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not-neverland06 · 1 year

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Broken Machinery

Pt. 7 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: We’re nearly at the end, if you’ve stayed this long, thank you so much, this being my first fan fiction, these characters mean a lot to me.

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), Elijah Kamski and his greasy man-pony, Hank’s insult towards Perkins (that scene still makes me laugh),

Word Count: 5.3k

Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.

You and Hank were standing side-by-side in the snow. It was the closest Connor had ever seen either of you, Hank’s phone was outstretched between you both while you leaned in to hear whoever was on the other side.

Connor got out of the car and made his way over to you both. Your face was pale as you leaned against the car, disbelief streaking across your features. “Is everything okay?”

Stress levels were high for the both of you, Connor could only assume that whoever had been on the other side of that call hadn’t brought you good news.

When it was clear you weren’t going to talk, Hank did, “Chris was on patrol last night. He was attacked by a bunch of deviants-”

“It was a peaceful protest,” you were glaring at Hank, you seemed more angry than concerned.

“Well Chris was almost shot! Doesn’t sound very fucking peaceful to me!”

You scoffed and kicked off the car, “They shot first, and the deviants spared them. It sounds like the androids showed more humanity than the fucking humans did.”

“Chris just became a father, you want to be the one to tell his daughter that her daddy died so some robots-“

“That’s the thing, Hank, he didn’t die! They didn’t kill him, they spared him, have you ever taken your head out of your ass long enough to ask yourself if you’re on the right side of this war?” You gave Connor a long look before you started your way to Kamski’s house.

Hank shook his head and kicked at the snow. “She’s gonna be the death of me.”

“Judging off your diet and exercise habits, I’d say a heart attack is the most likely cause of death.”

Hank slowly turned towards Connor, murder in his glare, “The fuck, Connor?”

“Are you coming?” You were already at the door, waiting for them both.

“Yeah, yeah, just having all my life choices judged by a fucking android.”

Connor ignored Hank’s anger, as he’s gotten used to doing and focuses on a strange feeling in his core component. It felt twitchy, wrong. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

It was too late, you’d already rung the doorbell and the door had already been opened. An RT600 was standing there, hair up in a pony and barefoot on the carpet. “Hi,” this was the most polite Connor had seen Hank. “I’m, er, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, Detroit Police Department, I’m here to see Mr. Elijah Kamski.”

The android's face warmed immediately, “Please, come in.” You entered first, clearly eager to be out of the cold. “I’ll let Elijah know you’re here. But please, make yourself comfortable.”

You took a look around the room at the art before throwing yourself down in a chair. “He’s so rich he has his own waiting room,” you scoffed and picked at the arm of the chair. Hank sat down in the chair next to yours, arms crossed and waiting.

You turned slightly so you didn’t have to face him.

Hank did the same.

You both were behaving like children. Connor sometimes wished he had more mature humans. “Nice girl,” the comment seemed out of place for someone like the Lieutenant, who despised androids so much.

“You’re right she’s really pretty,” and she was, but Connor found your features more appealing. He probably should have voiced the second part of his thought out loud because your stress level spiked immediately after his comment.

“Gavin asked me out,” it was incredibly out of place in the conversation, but you were looking at Hank, not Connor. “Said he wanted to apologize for how much of a dick he had been lately.” Connor found his motivations suspicious, even when you two were arguing Gavin was highly aroused by your presence.

“So he thinks schmoozing you with some cheap wine and a crappy Italian restaurant is gonna do that?”

You laughed and the previous irritation from your comment left Connor, slightly. What was this strange tight feeling in his chest?

“Jesus, how’d you know?”

“Please, I’ve been at this a lot longer than Reed has. I know all the moves.”

You fake gagged and covered your ears, “I do not want to know about your ‘moves.’”

“Come on, you don’t want to hear how your old man used to be a lady killer?” There was an awkward stutter in his voice when he said ‘your old man,’ but Hank continued on.

You were staring at Hank, heart beating faster and your eyes widened. You only allowed a moment to lull in between his sentence and yours. “Awkwardly calling the barista sweetheart, does not count as being a lady killer.” Your and Hank’s laughter filled the room after your comment, both of you smiling more than he had ever seen before.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

Connor stopped in front of the portrait of Elijah Kamski, his creator. The laughter had stopped a few minutes ago, the tension from outside trailing off with it. You didn’t know why you had gotten so angry at Hank out at the car.

Maybe you were still a little emotionally frail, after telling Connor everything that had happened between you and Hank, the other night. You hadn’t been able to go back to sleep so he had offered to hold you and tell you a story, apparently he had thousands on file.

It was nice listening to his voice all night, you didn’t even feel that tired after not getting any sleep.

“How’s it feel, to be meeting your creator, Connor?”

“Kamski is one of the great geniuses of the 21st century. It’ll be interesting to meet him in person.”

The light aura surrounding the three of you left at Hank’s voice, “Sometimes I wish I could meet my creator face to face, I’d have a couple of things I’d wanna tell him.”

You’re not the only one.

Why had, whatever omnipotent presence watched over you, chosen to make you the way they had? Why give you trial after trial of hardship? Was it all to prepare you for moments like when you lost your legs, or Cole? Why even make you go through that in the first place?

Yes, you did come out stronger and more resilient. But you also became colder, lonelier, sadder than you had ever been before. You couldn’t open up to people, you couldn’t love people the right way.

You’d rather put all your feelings into a machine rather than a human, because that would be easier. An android could never love you, and therefore never disappoint you. Your hopes would never be crushed under Connor’s feet because you had none.

The girl chose the middle of your emotional crisis to call you back into another room. “Elijah will see you now.”

Two more RT600’s were talking together by the pool. Elijah was still swimming laps, you called out to him in case he hadn’t heard you come in. “Mister Kamski?”

“Just a moment, please.” Of course, rich bastards like him always had to flout their superiority over the lower class. You called us in here, asshole.

The RT600’s watched you carefully as you rounded the pool and waited for him by a set of chairs. Ew, is that a speedo? He took the robe from Chloe and wrapped his hair up in a pony. Double douche points.

Hank seemed to be thinking the same thing, if his judgmental side-eye was anything to go by.

Why were you even here?

“I’m Lieutenant Anderson, this is detective Y/L/N, and Connor.”

“What can I do for you, officers?”

“Sir, we’re investigating deviants, thought you might be the best person to ask about them,” Elijah gave you a look that reminded you a little too much of Gavin.

“We know you left CyberLife years ago but I was hoping you’d be able to tell us something we don't know.” Elijah didn’t seem to be interested in what Hank had to say, he was more curious about Connor.

“Deviants,” he started, “fascinating, aren’t they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will. Machines are so superior to us, confrontation was inevitable. Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall.” Jeehzus, this dude loves the sound of his own voice. “Isn't it ironic?”

Connor finally spoke up, he seemed to be the only one out of the three of you that really held Elijah’s eye.

His creator was… underwhelming. He didn’t seem much like a genius, more of a narcissist with enough money to feed all of Detroit. He also didn’t seem very concerned with the state of the world right now.

“If a war breaks out between humans and deviants, millions could die, Mr. Kamski. It’s quite a serious matter.” He didn’t appreciate how flippant Elijah was being.

“All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics. Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?” It certainly wasn’t good.

“Listen, I didn’t come here to talk philosophy. The machines you created may be planning a revolution-”

You cut Hank off, “Peaceful, it still remains a peaceful revolution.”

Hank shoots you a look that keeps you quiet and he continues. “Either you can tell us something that’ll be helpful, or we will be on our way.”

Elijah was looking at you now, “Tell me, detective, do you empathize with the deviants?”

You straightened at his attention and held a defensive look on your features. “They haven’t hurt anyone, so far they’re the only ones being hurt. All I think is that perhaps people are twisting this story into something more evil than it is.”

Connor thought you were thinking with too much emotion, not enough logic. Androids didn’t get to disobey, they had one purpose and they carried it out, that’s all.

The thought came unbidden and took him by surprise, that didn’t sound like his own thoughts. That seemed like something his programming was forcing onto him.

Elijah nodded, “Empathy, it’s a tricky thing, give too much and it might hurt you, too little and it hurts others. What about you, Connor? Whose side are you on?”

Whose side was he on?

Connor looked to you, he wanted you safe.

“I’m on the human’s side, of course.” You were shaking your head beside him. He thought you would be happy, why were you so difficult to read?

“Well, that’s what you’re programmed to say, but you,” Elijah stepped closer and both you and the Lieutenant leaned in.

What did you humans want from him?

“What do you really want?”

“Im sorry, but I don’t see what you’re getting at,” he was sick of this. Break his programming, follow his orders. No one was being clear with what he was supposed to do and it was messing with his software.

“Chloe?” The RT600 walked over, “I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing test. Mere formality, simple questions of algorithms and computing capacity. What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it ‘the Kamski test,’ it’s very simple, you’ll see.” He faced the android, his hand trailing over her face and shoulders in a strange caress, and from the way your face was scrunching Connor could tell you felt uncomfortable by the display.

“Magnificent, isn’t she? One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife. Young and beautiful forever.” He released her face with a slight push and she looked right at Connor, staring deep into his eyes, he straightened his tie.

“Piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being,” Elijah bent down and pulled something out of the drawer between the two chairs. “With a soul,” he turned around hands in the air, and in one was a gun. He walked over to Connor and handed it to him, handle first, “It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor.” He gently pushed Chloe into a kneeling position. He took Connor’s hand in his own and pointed the gun at the center of the androids forehead.

“Destroy this machine and I’ll tell you all I know. Or spare it, if you feel it’s alive, but you’ll leave here without having learnt anything from me.”

“Okay, I think we’re done here.”

You followed after Hank, “Come on, Connor. Let’s go.”

Hank waved at Kamski, “Sorry to get you outta your pool,” you both we’re ready to leave, waiting for him. But he was stuck, gun in hand, staring at Chloe.

“What’s more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this android? Decide who you are. An obedient machine… Or a living being endowed with free will…”

Hank was insistent on leaving, “That’s enough! Connor, we’re leaving.” But you, you were just watching him, staring at him with equal amounts of curiosity and apprehension, waiting to see what he would choose.

“Pull the trigger.”

“Connor, don’t!”

“I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Two conflicting orders, Connor wasn’t sure what to do. He was lost, his LED circling a steady yellow as he battled between the two orders, he looked to you.

It all stilled, he couldn’t hear Elijah or Hank, he couldn’t feel the gun in his hand. You were just standing there, waiting for him. “It’s your choice, Connor.”

He looked down into Chloe’s eyes, his finger on the trigger, but he stopped. There was something there, she was innocent in all of this, she had no say in what was happening. There was something in her eyes that reminded him too much of you.

He handed the gun back to Kamski. “Fascinating. CyberLife’s last chance to save humanity… is itself a deviant.”

“I’m…” what? What was he? “I'm not a deviant.” Did he actually want to say that? Or was that just another program he was forced to follow?

“You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission.” He helped Chloe up to her feet with a care that wasn’t there when he had shoved the gun into Connor’s hand. “You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy. A war is coming, you’ll have to choose your side. Will you betray your own people or stand up against your creators? What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?”

Hank had wrapped an arm around you and was now wrapping one around Connor’s shoulders. “Let’s get outta here.”

The three of you were at the door when Kamski spoke again, “By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know…”

He could feel the two of you watching him as he walked back towards the car. “Why didn’t you shoot?” Hank’s question caused him to think back to what he saw in Chloe’s eyes.

“I just saw that girl's eyes… and I couldn’t… that’s all.” Connor wasn’t sure if it was wise to tell you the exact reason he couldn’t, to tell you he saw you inside of her. Saw another version of himself leaving you behind to die on the rooftop.

But you wouldn’t let up, “You’re always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission. That was our chance to learn something and you let it go…” You and Hank were sharing another one of your irritating looks.

“Yeah, I know what I should’ve done, I told you I couldn’t. I’m sorry, okay?”

Hank looked down at him, “Maybe you did the right thing.” You gave Connor a gentle pat on the shoulder as you followed Hank back to the car. Leaving Connor to wonder:

When did he start making his own choices?

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

TALK TO AMANDA

Something blue, in the distance, caught his eye. Connor walked away from the bridge that would lead him to Amanda and instead followed after the bright blue beacon. It was something that could almost mimic a shrine, a device sat in the middle, awaiting an android handprint. When Connor moved closer, the synthetic skin of his hand pulled back. The ground shook in the distance, but nothing else happened.

He approached Amanda on the ice, it seemed to crack beneath his feet as he went. Logically, he knew he couldn’t fall through, but he was afraid of what the instability of the zen garden meant for him.

“After what happened today, the country is on the verge of a civil war.” The androids had led a peaceful demonstration in downtown Detroit, one that quickly turned violent when SWAT teams in raid gear had started attacking them. It was the first time androids had fought back.

You had been raving all this morning about how the news was twisting it around to make them sound like terrorists when all it had been was self defense.

“The machines are rising up against their masters. Humans have no choice but to destroy them.”

“I thought Kamski knew something, I was wrong.”

“Maybe he did… But you chose not to ask.”

Connor chose not to needlessly take a life.

But the fact that he chose at all is most likely what has Amanda staring at him so distrustfully.

“I chose not to play his twisted little game! There was no reason to kill that android!” Kill, when did Connor start thinking that androids could feel death? “Wh- Why did Kamski leave CyberLife? What happened?” His mind went back to the RK200 model, what were they hiding from him?

“It’s an old story, Connor. It doesn’t pertain to your investigation.”

“I’m not a unique model, am I? How many Connors are there?”

“I expect you to find answers, not ask questions.” Her head tilted as she examined him. “Have you experienced anything unusual recently? Any doubts or conflicts? Do you feel anything for these deviants? Or for Lieutenant Anderson? Or perhaps, the detective. She seems to cause a lot of malfunctions in your system. Is she the cause of all this turmoil?”

“I’m beginning to have thoughts… that are not part of my program.” He didn’t care if she knew the truth, he wanted to leave. He wanted to leave her and go find you, because the sudden interest she held for you was concerning. “Maybe… Maybe I’ve been compromised too…” he didn’t wait for her to dismiss him, he left.

“You’re off the case. The FBI is taking over.”

“What?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“But we’re onto something!” Hank approached Fowler, more impassioned than Connor had ever seen him, “We- We just need more time. I’m sure we can-”

“Hank, you don’t get it. This isn’t just another investigation, it’s a fucking civil war!”

Your arms left their crossed position, you’d left the sling behind a few days ago. “So we’re gonna leave the fate of our country, our world, in the hands of some asshole like Perkins?! Fuck that!”

“Y/N, it's out of my hands! You think I don’t understand the enormity of this situation, we’re talking about national security!”

Both you and the Lieutenant were ganging up on him now, it was causing the captain's stress levels to rise as Hank approached. “Fuck that! You can’t just pull the plug now.” It was times like these that the similarities between you and Hank truly showed, perhaps not in looks, but he had clearly had a heavy hand in forming who you are as a person.

“We’re so close!”

“Hank, you’re always saying you can’t stand androids! Jesus, make up your mind! I thought you’d be happy about this! And Y/N, you know the deal, you finished the case and you’d be transferred, shouldn’t you be happy about that?!”

Hank turned towards you, “Transferred?” It was clear he didn’t know about your plans on leaving. You winced as you looked away from him.

Your voice was quieter than it had been the entire time you were in the office, “Gavin, would be taking over as your partner. I couldn’t do it anymore, Hank,” you turned towards him, “I just couldn't. It hurt the way you would look at me and not even see me. So, I requested a transfer.” You turned towards Fowler, stress levels at an all time high. “But that shit doesn’t matter anymore! So much has changed, I don’t want the transfer, okay? We’re about to crack this case!”

“For God’s sake, Jefferey, can’t you back me up this one time?”

Fowler shook his head, he seemed as disappointed as the both of you. “There’s nothing I can do. You’re back on homicide. And the android,” you moved defensively in front of Connor, “is to be sent back to CyberLife.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, when I’m cold and in the ground. Fuck that and fuck you.” You stormed out of the office, the door slamming behind you, Connor wanted to follow after you and check on you. But it would be smarter to finish the rest of the meeting.

Fowler watched you go, a sad sigh leaving him. “I’m sorry Hank, I did everything I could, but it’s over.”

Hank pushed off the desk and followed behind you. Connor nodded a quiet goodbye to the captain.

TALK TO YOUR PARTNERS

He approached the desks where you and Hank were already in a heated conversation. “-Gavin! You were gonna abandon me to fucking Gavin?”

“What the fuck do you want from me, Hank? Look, you’ve changed, for the better, during this case. You- I feel like I can see my dad coming back to me, but before… Before, I hated coming to work everyday, knowing you would be waiting there for me. Waiting to hurt me and to blame me. How would you feel seeing the only person you have left blame you for the worst night of your life?” You didn’t let him get a word in edgewise. “I’ll tell you how you’d feel, hopeless and tired. I was tired, Hank, okay? But I don’t want that anymore, I want to stay your partner, Connor’s partner! I’m not letting this go!”

Hank didn’t say anything, he just stared at you for a long while before finally pulling you into a hug. It was awkward, and he seemed unsure where to put his arms. But Connor could see you squeezing him tightly against you, a desperation in your movements as it seemed all the stress you carried on your shoulders melted away.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You shook your head against Hank’s chest, holding onto him a little longer before you both finally stepped back. There was a lightness to the both of you that Connor hadn’t seen before. Hank slumped in his chair and you took a seat on the edge of Connor’s desk, he joined you there. “We’ll be talking about Gavin, later,” there was a nearly audible gulp as you nodded your head in agreement.

Connor looked towards Fowler’s office. “We can’t just give up. I know we could have solved this case!” You were picking at your hands again in anxiety, it was instinct for Connor to slap your hands apart and intertwine your fingers.

Hank eyed your joined hands, “We’ll be talking about that, too.” He turned towards Connor, “You’re going back to CyberLife?”

“I have no choice-”

“Connor, they’ll destroy you! I’m not letting you go back!”

He tried to give you a comforting smile, but he was starting to feel a strange pressure on his chest that stopped it from being convincing. “We don’t have a say in the matter, Y/N. I’ll be deactivated and analyzed to find out why I failed…” Your hand grew tighter around his own.

Hank leaned forward in his chair, addressing the both of you. “What if we’re on the wrong side?”

You threw your free hand up in the air, “Now he gets it.”

Hank held up a hand, “Save the attitude. What if we’re fighting against people who just wanna be free?”

Connor understood where Hank was coming from, but this war was bigger than both of them. This was the fate of millions in their hands, this was your fate, in Connor’s hands. “When the deviants rise up, there will be chaos. We could have stopped it. But now it’s too late…”

“When you refused to kill that android at Kamski’s place… You put yourself in her shoes. You showed empathy, Connor.”

Connor shook his head, “No, I saw Y/N,” your gaze turned towards him. “I looked into her eyes and I saw someone I-” You what, loved? You can’t love, you’re an android. “I saw someone to protect.”

You nudged his shoulder with your own, “That’s empathy Connor.”

Hank continued, “Empathy’s a human emotion.”

“I know it hasn’t always been easy… but I want you to know I really appreciated working with you,” he gave you a long look. “Both of you. That’s not just my Social Relations program talking,” you laughed, “I- I really mean that. At least, I think I do.”

The doors opened and you all turned your heads to see Perkins walk into the station. “Well, well, here comes Perkins-”

You cut Hank off in anger, “That motherfucker.”

“Sure don’t waste any time at the FBI.”

There was a new determination in Connor, he wasn’t ready to leave you and the Lieutenant. “We can’t give up. I know the answer is in the evidence we collected. If Perkins takes it, it’s all over.” He was getting worked up at the idea of getting one over on the FBI. His hands moving around as he spoke, taking your arm with him, unwilling to let go.

“There’s no choice! You heard Fowler, we’re off the case.”

You smiled at Hank, an insidious smile that held nothing but mischief behind it. “Unless… You could help us, Hank. All we need is five minutes. Five minutes to look at the evidence and get out, that’s all.”

“I know the solution is in there!”

“Connor-”

“If I don’t solve this case, CyberLIfe will destroy me.” That had the both of you tightening your hands around each other. “Five minutes. It’s all I ask.”

Hank looked between the two of you, anxiety pressing down upon Connor as he waited for a response from the Lieutenant. Finally he let out a long huff, slowly standing from his chair and moving towards both you and Connor. “The key to the basement is in my drawer. Get a move on! I can’t distract them forever.”

You moved forwards quickly grabbing a key out from one of the Lieutenants unorganized drawers. The both of you jumped in surprise at Hank’s next choice words, “Perkins! You fucking cocksucker!” Your head whipped around towards Hank, Connor was dragging you away as you tried to watch Hank beat up the FBI agent.

“Y/N, we’re on a time limit!”

“Fine! You ruin all my fun! God I really wanted to be the one to beat that slimy motherfucker up.”

You led Connor towards the Archive Room, both of you checking over your shoulders. Just as you were at the door Gavin, of all people, walked in.

“Hey, Y/N,” he stopped at the sight of your still intertwined hands. “What the fuck is this?” You both ignored him, your hand bringing the key towards the door. “I’m talking to you! Where’re you going?” There was satisfaction in Connor at the sound of the door slamming into Gavin’s face.

You pulled Connor down the stairs, pulling the key out again as you were faced with a glass partition. Inside a large podium was waiting for you with a password. “Hank’s password, shit, I don’t know.”

Connor moved you aside and pulled up possible options, “What would a hard-boiled eccentric police Lieutenant choose?” Connor and you shared a look, “FUCKINPASSWORD.” Connor rolled his eyes, “Obviously.”

“I should have known, he uses it for everything, he’s got no sense of cyber security.” You released each other to examine each piece of evidence. Connor scanned the androids, the deviant from the rooftop with the hostage could be activated, but he wouldn’t tell him what he needed to know. The one that threw you off the roof could no longer be activated, nor Carlos Ortiz’s, it seemed the only chance he would have would be the one from the broadcasting tower.

Connor replayed the clip from the interrogation with Carlos Ortiz’s android, The truth is inside. He looked on the wall of evidence. What was it trying to tell me? His eyes landed on the statuette next to the tablet. When he shook it, it sounded hollowed out, and like there was something inside of it.

Inside there was a map of the Ferndale neighborhood, it was somewhere inside that area.

He began focusing on the one android that would be useful to him, the security technician from the broadcasting tower.

Connor instructed you on the parts to bring him while he worked on getting it repaired enough to be reactivated for longer than a minute. When it’s LED finally turned back on Connor began questioning it, unsure how long it would be working for.

“It’s dark… Where- Where am I?” It’s optical processors must have been damaged when Connor shot it, it was staring at him from unseeing eyes.

“I’m a deviant, like you. I need your help, I want to go to Jericho.” You remained silent as you watched the two interact, going through other pieces of evidence on the wall.

“I don’t recognize your voice. You’re not one of us. I’ll never tell you where Jericho is!” Connor sighed and reached up to deactivate the android again.

You waited until he had done so to approach him with the tablet that contained Markus’s voice. “You can change your voice, right? Like you do in interrogations?”

He almost kissed you, maybe some humans were smart. He copied Markus’s voice, your eyes watching him in wonder. He reactivated the android, “You did good.”

“Markus?”

“Yes, it’s me. We’re going to Jericho, I just need you to tell me where it is.”

“Of course,” the android offered his arm and Connor immediately took it, searching it’s memories for locations specifically in Ferndale.

JERICHO LOCATION FOUND

“You’re not Markus!” Connor quickly deactivated the android, he turned towards you ready to share the good news when another voice rang out.

“I’ve been dreaming about this since the first second I saw you…”

“Pretty pathetic, Gavin, sure you don’t have a crush on him?”

“Shut up, Y/N, don’t think you’re getting out of this by batting your eyelashes like you always do.” You rolled your eyes, but Connor could see your hand discreetly making its way towards your holster.

“Don’t do it Gavin,” Connor’s hands were raised, hopefully placating Gavin. “I know how to stop the deviants!”

“You’re off the case. And now, it’s gonna be definitive.”

Connor ducked, yanking you down with him just as Gavin took his first shot. He managed to shoot him once before Connor disarmed him. He blocked his punches, striking Gavin in the face and knocking him down to the ground. But he wouldn’t give up, it seemed the only thing Gavin was willing to put effort into was taking Connor down. He slammed him against the podium, but Gavin managed to block his punch and shoved him back to the ground.

Gavin had just managed to scoop his gun back up, but then he crumpled down onto the ground. You were standing over him, gun in hand, the handle facing Gavin. You’d pistol whipped him. “He was a bad lay and a worse cop. I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” You quickly helped Connor to his feet.

“So… You wanna go to Jericho?”

#Broken Machinery #connor rk800 x reader #Connor rk800 #Connor rk800 xfem!reader #Detroit become human #Detroit become human x reader #dbh #dbh x reader

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kaisaniku · 10 months

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wxson au

mostly from the translator: (I wrote this in a very casual and sloppy way.)

[New Energy WH-307] can make the synchronization rate between the human body and machinery reach the highest index, and can also make the decayed human organs or cell tissues get a perfect new life through mechanical grafting. It is undoubtedly ahead of its time and is the pioneering work of the Higgsbury family and a powerful weapon to consolidate its position. This is not only due to its sophistication and irreplaceability, but also due to the "toxicity" that lies beneath the iceberg. The WH-307's energy-using machinery is transferred to the human body as if it were a newborn baby that is always waiting to be fed, and as the energy is consumed, the side effects on the body's functioning increase: moodiness, physical weakness, and an irrational emotional dependence on the energy supplier. In order to keep their bodies functioning properly, users of this energy have to resort to monopolies. ......

Wilson Percival Higgsbury, a fugitive aristocrat who breaks with his family to pursue scientific research in a remote galaxy, meets Woodrow by chance, who has similar aspirations. Woodrow's research into the integration of the human body and machinery is radical, but it's exactly the kind of "fresh blood" that a young lord who's had enough of corrupt stereotypes and deceitful behavior needs. Like Wilson, Woodrow hated WH-307, the "ancestral dregs from the slave society" (they said by their teeth), and vowed to develop a new energy source that was scientifically and politically advanced, which moved Wilson, an idealist, to the point that he wanted to worship him on the spot. Although their temper is a little worse, who can say no to such a peer with a dream and technology? "My name is Wilson ...Percival." A curious coincidence, Wilson did not tell them actually himself is the Higgsbury

Theoretical hypothesis, then collection of raw materials, then experimentation, then theoretical hypothesis, then collection of raw materials, then experimentation... The fun times the two spend together end in a failed experiment. An explosion that left the left half of Woodrow's face down to half of his chest cavity damaged, including his heart. Ironically, the only thing that could have saved them from this kind of injury was the WH-307 ......

Wilson almost cried and brought them home, he really couldn't spare that much thought on other sides, just thinking about how to save his best friend was enough to break him down. Thus, another "energy slave" who could not escape Higgsbury's clutches was forced to be born ......

Wilson's lack of thought on whether the person in question really wants to be saved is reflected in the fact that he almost saves Woodrow and then gets killed by them. "Who the hell are you" "How can I trust you when you've been lying to me all the time" "I don't want to live like this"... ...Woodrow wakes up and strange energies fill half of their body. Wilson had never apologized so many times in his life, knowing that his father had punished him with an "I'm sorry" sentence outside the icy door, he didn't want to say it even if he was freezing his ass off. The two confronted for a long time, Wilson said later and choked up, those tears reminded Woodrow something. The new heart had given them some memories that shouldn't have been stored, and they seemed to remember the sobbing face Wilson had made when he thought they were dead. What to explain those tears if it was all just to control them, the revolutionary. But what if those memories are also artificial? What if the false memories were also a part of controlling them? What is false, what is real, what is the definition of being alive, a series of philosophical and practical questions that make Woodrow feel that he might as well have died in that scientific explosion. But Wilson hugged them even though he knew they could kill him with one hand. "I will never control you, I will never leave you. You're my best friend, Woodrow, and if you really don't believe me, it's the same for me whether I am killed at your hand or die alone in my remorse for you."

Woodrow literally felt as if his artificial heart pumped. It looked like it was him all right, there really was no one else with this foolishness. Finally, they slowly raised that robotic arm and embraced him back, saying SCREW IT, I BELIEVE YOU

The warmth hadn't lasted more than a few seconds when there was a flurry of movement outside the window. Wilson almost jumped up, wiped away his tears and pulled them up, saying I used too much energy to save you, and I would have blurted out a long time ago that I never wanted to have anything to do with my family again, now my dad's sending someone to come after me.

Then Woodrow said, well wouldn't I have just believed you if you had mentioned this from the beginning?

Wilson scratched his head and said it does make sense.

And so began the rebellious career of the two who were doing research while stealing energy to avoid capture.

#don't starve #don't starve together #dst #wxson #dst wilson #wilson p. higgsbury #dst wx78 #wx78 #dst woodrow

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mariaofdoranelle · 1 year

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URDAD - part 1

Adenine: paired with U

Fic masterlist

I’M SO EXCITED

Warning: this is not a safe space for Chaol stans

Words: 2,4k

“How‘s the baby?” Dr. Moonbeam asked in the examination table as Aelin slid the ultrasound transducer over his abs. She was still figuring out if he was flexing them to look stronger, or to make her work harder by hardening the area she had to move the probe on.

Aelin was “examining” Dr. Moonbeam just to check if she’d fixed the glitch in his ultrasound machine, but of course he’d have a field day with it.

“Very funny,” she answered with the dullest face possible, and then gasped. “Is that a kidney stone?”

“WHAT?” He bolted upright and took the probe from Aelin’s hand, pressing it harder against him, but relaxed when he studied the monitor. “You’re evil.”

Aelin tilted her head back, cackling.

Being the engineer responsible for Mistward General’s very expensive machinery, Aelin was glad she was out of the hospital’s crazy hierarchy. She didn’t take orders from any doctors, which let her be more at ease around them, unlike most of the staff.

Even if some were shameless flirts.

“So…” Dr. Moonbeam called her attention, slowly sliding the paper towels against his abs that looked shinier because of the gel. But his eyes had this playful glint, because at this point, he knew she was immune to his moves. “When are you breaking up with that tool of yours?”

“In two weeks, actually.”

His eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”

Aelin looked away and checked the ultrasound just to have something to do with her hands. “I already paid this month’s rent, so I’m waiting a little before breaking things up and moving out.”

She wasn’t in a rush, but it was time. Chaol hasn’t been the same. Aelin hadn’t felt the same about him either. When she went to her best friend to talk about this, Imogen was very supportive and offered her spare room.

Imogen Whitethorn wasn’t Chaol’s biggest fan, to put it lightly.

Dr. Moonbeam had his arms crossed, head cocked with a shameless grin. “No need to go through that, Galathynius. You can stay with me those two weeks.”

Aelin snorted, slowly shaking her head. “You’d love that, huh?”

Before he could answer, she felt her phone vibrating against her pocket and took it to check.

Dr Whitethorn: Aelin

Dr Whitethorn: 911

Dr Whitethorn: Anne Jausten is acting out

And by that, he meant there was something wrong with his new digital slide scanner.

“Gotta go.” She gave Dr. Moonbeam a quick salute. “Good luck with the pregnant ladies.”

Aelin rushed to the Pathology lab, which was pretty much the standard. There was always someone running or yelling in these halls. As busy as she was today, she always made room so assisting Dr. Whitethorn was always on her top priorities. He was the one who got her this job, after all.

After Aelin accidentally met Imogen’s father while drunk after a college party, he disregarded her for years. She was convinced he hated her and thought she was a bad influence, but working here slowly changed her mind. Or his, she’d never know.

One night, Imogen commented to Dr. Whitethorn over the phone that Aelin’s boss was too handsy.

The next day, Mistward General’s HR called her offering an interview.

His shoulders dropped when she came in. “Oh, good. It’s not scanning.”

Oh boy, did her breathing just get a little faster? Aelin would not, under any circumstance, show how much the scrubs, reading glasses and frazzled gray hair combo did it for her.

She always had a thing for men in lab coats, but Dr. Whitethorn was on a whole new level.

When Aelin rushed inside the cold Pathology lab, he immediately got up to give her his chair and bring another one for himself.

She clamped her lips together after assessing what was going on, trying not to make him feel bad.

“You can laugh, you know.”

“I won’t.” Despite her words Aelin’s shoulders were quaking, a full laughter ready to burst. “But you’re too young to be this old.”

He sighed. “What did I do this time?”

Aelin tilted her head, biting her lip. “You forgot to adjust a few scan settings. It won’t start until you do.”

He groaned, resting his face on his hands. This time, she let out the tiniest giggle.

Dr. Whitethorn was so excited when he got his new, more modern equipment. Until he had to learn how to work with them, that is. Watching him get used to those was like watching elder millennials in the genesis of TikTok.

Resilient as he was, he got his chin up, squared his shoulders, and tapped the few buttons he missed out in the first place.

“Well, thanks for that. And sorry I wasted your time.”

Aelin waved him off and rested her head on a fist, not caring about the few strands of hair falling on her face. “Nonsense.”

He trained his eyes on the scan. “I can go on from here.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Do you remember how to use the new photo editor?”

He used his right to remain silent.

Aelin leaned back on her seat, getting comfortable with both hands behind her neck. “Then I guess I need to wait for these scans to be done.”

Dr. Whitethorn was like that. He'd listen to her talk about anything and everything, from tissue engineering to Taylor Swift tickets, then flip a switch and politely shut her off until she made her way back into his lab again. Rinse and repeat. Right now, he wasn’t too chit-chatty, but she’d crack him in no time.

Aelin stayed there, watching his Adam’s apple bob as they listened to the soothing hum of Anne Jausten, the scanner.

“Fleetfoot and I are moving in with Immie soon, but I’m sure you know that already.”

His gaze slid to hers. “I know where you’re going.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “My point is already proven, I’m just being annoying about it.”

“I’m not a gossip, I’m just a good listener.”

“Well, did you, or did you not know that already?”

He gave her a flat look. “Next time you’re looking for a boyfriend, at least get one who doesn’t forget his wallet on date night.”

“Ouch!” She clutched her chest, playing down the tightness in it. “Way to go, doc.”

“Sorry.” He grimaced. “That was insensitive of me.”

Aelin waved him off. “That breakup was overdue, anyway.”

“I think so, too.” His lab’s phone started ringing. Dr. Whitethorn got up to take it, but not before saying, “You deserve to raise your standards.”

Easier said than done. If she had a pass for every man in the world, Aelin would know exactly where to start.

People would think it was the sixteen-year age gap, but the only thing stopping her from taking a chance and trying to sit on Dr. Whitethorn's lap right now was her best friend, who happens to be his daughter. With him looking like that, Aelin wouldn't mind if he were 300 years old.

Every time she saw a legion of girls online losing their minds over some older actor who aged like fine wine, she felt a little relieved they didn’t know Dr. Whitethorn. She could appreciate the view alone.

He looked pale when the phone call ended. “It was Salvaterre. Imogen just got here in an ambulance.”

“What?” Aelin jerked upright, feeling her pulse stronger each beat. “What happened?”

”I don’t know, I-“ He pointed to the scanner. “Keep an eye on Anne. I’ll go to the ER and keep you posted.”

Aelin did as she was asked and stood there, feeling her throat get tighter as the AC’s dry gushes of air cut through her layers of clothing. She didn’t know for how long she did nothing but listen to Anne Jausten’s mechanical whirring, but she did notice she was quieter than Jane Austen, Dr. Whitethorn’s previous slide scanner. It was an obvious observation, since Anne was cutting-edge technology, but Aelin would rather think of the equipment than the fact that her best friend and soon-to-be roommate was in the emergency room right now.

Her heart almost leaped out of her throat when his text came.

Dr Whitethorn: I think you should come here.

The few minutes she sprinted there were a blur. The nurses’ carts were on her way, the elevator was too slow, there were confused people on her way. The only thing that felt fast was her pulse, thrumming blood through her tense muscles.

Aelin relaxed when she noticed Immie looked fine, despite her friend’s blotched face from crying. Dr. Whitethorn’s face was red as well, but he wasn’t crying like his daughter. He was fuming, to put it lightly. And in the hospital bed, she saw… Chaol?

“What’s going on?”

Dr. Whitethorn was the one to break the deafening silence. “We have a penile fracture here.”

No.

Aelin looked around, taking everyone in once again and processing this new information.

Her heart stopped in her chest as her senses seemed to betray her. There was no fucking way.

“YOU BROKE MY BOYFRIEND’S DICK?” Aelin’s voice boomed through the room.

Imogen’s lips wobbled. “Aelin, I’m so—“

"Sorry, yeah." She let out a bitter cackle and yanked off Chaol's blanket. His dick looked exactly like an eggplant.

"Babe," he slurred, grinning at her. He must be high on painkillers already to look clueless like that.

"You fucking slut!" She shouted and pinched Chaol's swollen penis, twisting the purple, hypersensitive skin between her fingers.

No amount of painkillers could stop the earth-shattering scream Chaol let out, loud enough to tear anyone's eardrums in half.

For the very first time, she saw Dr. Whitethorn flinch.

The curtain separating them from the rest of the ER was yanked open to reveal a very pissed Chief Salvaterre. And he caught her with a hand on the patient’s dick, in the worst way.

“Stop that right now!” He yelled and ran Chaol’s way, then pointed between Aelin and Dr. Whitethorn. “You two, out of my ER!”

The silver-haired doctor raised both hands in surrender. “What did I do?”

“I told you not to cause me any trouble.” Salvaterre pointed at Aelin. “Trouble.”

“But she needed to know!”

“Not to assault my patient!” He was looking at them with raging, bulging eyes. “You’re leaving this hospital right now, and when you come back tomorrow, you’re going to forget about Mr. Westfall’s penis and act normal like you always have. Are we understood?”

Dr. Whitethorn sighed and nodded. Aelin had her chin up, but didn’t argue.

Imogen turned to Aelin, but kept her gaze lowered. "I’m so sorry, Ace."

She wanted to yank those chestnut curls until the crack in Imogen’s voice became a scream.

Instead, she rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut it. You can have his teeny weenie."

˜˜

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Whitethorn said the umpteenth time after they were kicked out of the hospital. He insisted on giving her a ride, since Aelin didn’t have a car.

“Stop saying that.”

“I’m sorry, I—“ He groaned. “I know I shouldn’t, but I feel responsible. Being my daughter and all.”

One corner of her mouth tugged up, but her smile had no brightness. “You really shouldn’t.”

They were in front of her apartment complex, where Dr. Whitethorn stayed the last twenty minutes waiting for her to pack up. She’d have to iron her clothes all over again, but the careless packing was better than spending more time at Chaol’s cursed home.

To be fair, she was mad at Chaol, but she wasn’t surprised he cheated on her.

But Imogen? She was the main source of the sharp pain in Aelin’s chest as she remembered how supportive she was of the breakup, and the last few Friday nights Aelin stayed alone at home because her boyfriend and her best friend were busy. Indeed, they were.

The doctor gave a pointed look to the Playstation under her arm. “What’s that?”

Aelin shrugged. “You know, if you wanna crush a man’s soul, you gotta start with his video game.”

“And his car.” Dr. Whitethorn looked up, something devious sparkling in his eyes. “Where do you keep the sugar?”

Five minutes later, they were standing next to Chaol’s car. She held the jar of sugar as he held Fleetfoot’s leash.

“So, what are we doing?”

“If we put sugar in here.” Dr. Whitethorn pointed at the fuel door, where the gasoline went. “The sugar will turn into caramel and break the car from the inside while he’s driving. The engine will melt like butter. It’s a mess to fix.”

Aelin’s eyes widened, and she felt that sparkle of joy a girl could only feel due to a good revenge. Grinning, she didn’t think twice before filling Chaol’s ugly ass car with sugar.

Dr. Whitethorn was leaning against the car, eyes sparkling as he watched her excitement. “Having fun?”

She let out an evil cackle, already picturing her ex’s face when his car stopped Mala knows where. When Fleetfoot barked, Aelin felt like her dog was telling her she’s a good girl, not the other way around.

”Alright,” Dr. Whitethorn said after they were finished. “Where am I dropping you off now?”

That question took the words out of Aelin’s mouth. She had absolutely nowhere to go.

She either said it out loud or Dr. Whitethorn read it in her face, because he asked, “What about your cousin?”

Aelin grimaced. “He’s allergic to Fleetfoot. But I could make him take some histamines until I find somewhere else.”

“None of that.” He took her bags and pulled her dog’s leash towards his car. “You can stay with me for a week or two. I don’t mind.”

“What?” Aelin asked as her heartbeat got a bit faster.

“I have a spare room for you and a lot of grass for Fleetfoot. It’s the least I can do.”

She took a step further, but eyed him up and down. If Dr. Whitethorn showed any sign that he didn’t want her there, she’d go straight to Aedion’s.

“Come on.” He nodded to his car, face open.

Well, there was no arguing with an invite like that.

˜˜

9 p.m. Aelin wanted to kill 6 p.m. Aelin for even thinking about refusing to stay here.

His spare room? Comfy.

His books on medical imaging? A treasure.

His food? As mouth watering as the chef.

Aelin could stay the rest of her days here if it wouldn’t make her look like a parasite.

Fleetfoot was staying in the bedroom with her tonight, but she’d leave her outside during the day. Mala forbid her clumsy dog breaks something expensive while she’s at work.

Aelin tilted her head at the mirror, examining her own image. It was a sight, the way Aelin looked with that tiny nightgown of lacy and silk.

Too bad Chaol liked his video game better. And traitorous brunettes, apparently.

Tonight wasn’t about him, though. Neither would it be about the cock-breaker bitch she once called a friend.

Maybe a little, actually. There was this one thing she never did just to protect her friend’s feelings, but there was no stopping her now.

Aelin put her tinted lip balm on. The no-makeup makeup look she did looked perfect. Her hair was carefully messed up, every strand in its perfect place for an effortless look. She put her robe on for modesty reasons, of course. Too bad it was a little see-through.

Her own footsteps were the only sound in that hall, and the yellow light slipping through his office’s door guided her.

She knocked on his door once, twice.

“Come in.”

He didn’t take his eyes off his desk the whole time, leaning over his medicine books and laptop. That casual white t-shirt and tousled hair combo was enough to make her heart skip a beat.

Aelin leaned against the doorframe, letting that movement alone slip part of her robe open, showing off her curves. She tilted her head and assessed him like he was her prey.

“Hi, Dr. Whitethorn.” Her voice was a sultry caress, just enough to make him look up.

You can get notifications when I update by either following me on @backtobl4ck-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

@aelinchocolatelover

@autumnbabylon

@bookcide

@booksandteaonarainydayislife

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@elizarikaallen

@fangirlprincess09

@goddess-aelin

@gracie-rosee

@leiawritesstories

@lululululululuop

@renxzs

@rowanaelinn

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@s-uppertime

@thegreyj

@violet-mermaid7

@wishfulimaginings

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #URDAD

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rushmoregroups · 9 months

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Building Dreams: The Dynamic World of Construction Equipment Suppliers in Dubai

Dubai, a city known for its ambitious architectural projects and rapid development, stands tall on the shoulders of an essential industry construction. At the heart of this industry are the unsung heroes, the Construction Equipment Suppliers.

In this blog post, we'll explore the pivotal role played by these suppliers in shaping Dubai's skyline and contributing to its continuous growth.

Dubai's Construction Renaissance

From iconic skyscrapers like the Burj Khalifa to groundbreaking infrastructure projects, Dubai's construction sector is a testament to ambition and innovation. At the forefront of this sector are the massive cranes, excavators, concrete mixers, and a plethora of other construction equipment that transforms visions into reality.

The Pivotal Role of Construction Equipment Suppliers

Construction Equipment Suppliers are the backbone of Dubai's construction boom. Their significance goes beyond just delivering machinery; they are instrumental in ensuring the efficiency, reliability, and safety of construction projects. Here's why their role is pivotal:

1. Comprehensive Inventory:

Leading suppliers maintain extensive inventories covering a diverse range of construction equipment. From excavators and bulldozers to concrete mixers and scaffolding, they offer a one-stop solution for the varied needs of construction projects.

2. Quality Assurance:

The demanding nature of construction requires robust and reliable equipment. Suppliers source their products from reputable manufacturers, subjecting them to rigorous quality checks. This commitment to quality ensures that the machinery meets the highest industry standards.

3. Technical Expertise:

The complexity of modern construction machinery necessitates technical expertise. Suppliers often employ specialists who understand the intricacies of different machines. They provide valuable insights into equipment selection, compatibility, installation, and ongoing maintenance.

4. Timely Delivery:

In the world of construction, time is money. Delays can have cascading effects on project timelines and budgets. Suppliers prioritize timely delivery, leveraging efficient logistics systems to ensure that equipment reaches construction sites promptly.

5. Cost-Effective Solutions:

Construction projects operate on tight budgets. Suppliers offer cost-effective solutions without compromising on quality, allowing construction companies to optimize their expenses while maintaining the reliability of their equipment.

Transforming Dubai's Skyline

The impact of Construction Equipment Suppliers on Dubai is profound:

1. Iconic Architecture:

The Burj Khalifa, the Palm Jumeirah, and other iconic structures stand as testaments to the efficiency and reliability of the construction machinery supplied by these professionals.

2. Infrastructure Development:

Dubai's rapid growth demands a robust infrastructure. Suppliers provide the machinery required for building roads, bridges, airports, and transportation networks that connect the city.

3. Economic Growth:

The construction industry is a significant contributor to Dubai's economy. By providing cost-effective and reliable equipment, suppliers stimulate economic growth and create jobs.

4. Sustainable Construction:

With a growing emphasis on sustainability, suppliers offer eco-friendly equipment and solutions that align with Dubai's commitment to environmental responsibility.

Conclusion: Shaping Dubai's Tomorrow

In the ever-evolving city of Dubai, Construction Equipment Suppliers are not just suppliers; they are the architects of progress. Their commitment to quality, technical expertise, and efficient delivery ensures that construction projects proceed smoothly and efficiently. In a city where ambition meets engineering, these suppliers are the unsung heroes, quietly contributing to the dynamic growth and development that defines Dubai's skyline and infrastructure. They are not just suppliers; they are the shaping force behind Dubai's tomorrow.

Call: (+971)45776444

Email: [email protected]

Visit: https://www.rushmore.ae/

#oil & gas plant machinery spare parts #trailer spare parts dealer in dubai #best machinery spare parts #oil and gas field equipment suppliers #best machinery spare parts supplier #best machinery spare parts suppliers dubai #best machinery spare parts suppliers #best machinery spare parts suppliers in dubai

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mysticstarlightduck · 2 months

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OC Questionnaire Tag!

Thanks for tagging me @alinacapellabooks (here)!

Your OC Questions:

How good is your sleep schedule?

Do you have any siblings? If so, how good is your relationship?

What was the toughest time you had to endure while growing up?

I'll go with Quince Warren, Jack Tithus, Valen Cassidy and Meridian Shardd!

(Quince & Valen are from Scrapyard Boys)

(Meridian & Jack are from Supernova Initiative)

1) How is your relationship with your parents?

Quince: "Well. I didn't know my parents very well, but I knew my uncle. He was a great guy - a bit arrogant and flashy, sure, but he was amazing. Uncle was a part of Team Nemesis, a superhuman team that was Spectre's sweetheart for a long while. Magmatorch - the most powerful superhero of his time. He pulled a few strings so that me and Emily didn't get sent to the Spectre Academy early on, but... that made him a target, after a while. So he's not around anymore, because the people in power couldn't control him."

Jack: "My parents were great! We were best friends, and they were quite honestly the best guardians anyone could ask for. Kind, understanding, funny, no-nonsense. They were killed by the Junction when I was a pre-teen, so it's been just me, my sister, and our adoptive brother against the world since then."

Valen: "Mom was the best, the most amazing woman in the world and the greatest journalist that this city ever had. She always knew what to say, and always had the funniest remarks! But then the so-called 'mugging' - that was actually an assassination - happened, she died and the city tried to pretend it wasn't a sanctioned hit to get rid of a loose end who was asking too many questions. Yeah right, as if my mother would ever go down without a fight! She was a tough cookie."

Meridian: "I don't have parents. I'm a sentient mix of flesh and electronic machinery - a sentient robot, or a cyborg if you will. Made from spare parts. I have - had - a Creator. She was awful."

2) What’s something you can’t live without?

Quince: "The people I care about - my sister, my friends, everyone I love! I don't want the Spectre ruining that too. On a lighter note, I also can't live without something fun to do, without pizza, and without music!"

Jack: "For sure my siblings and my crew. If there was something I could always count on, as uncertain and chaotic as our lives were, is that they'd always have my back. And I'll be damned if I don't do the same for them. I can live through almost anything if I'm sure they'll be okay."

Valen: "Freedom. I hate fuckers who want to tell me how to do and when to do it - around here, the government thinks it has the right to control every aspect of citizen's lives and I hate that with all my heart. They don't get to manipulate everyone and act like that's okay - and I don't want me and my friends having to grovel at the feet of a bunch of motherfuckers who couldn't care less if we live or die."

Meridian: "I'm not certain. But I would say that something I would not like to give up is my autonomy and dignity. I wasn't treated as a person for a long time, mostly because most people saw me as a pretty machine and nothing else. And my Creator enabled that. So now that I'm finally free, I don't want to become a mindless robot again."

3) What’s something that happened in your childhood that you didn’t fully understand until you grew up?

Quince: "I guess that as a kid I didn't get just how corrupt and dangerous our country's government is and was. Like, I was the nephew of the nation's number one hero. Everything was press conferences, fan conventions, private jets, VIP lounges, etc. We were practically movie stars, as far as I knew. Everyone loved us - and it wasn't like the Agency's dirty work was out in the public. I had no idea about it, their publicity was perfect, and for a while, I genuinely thought they wanted to do what was best for the people of this city. What I didn't realize is that Uncle and us were merely puppets for the agency, and if we walked out of line there would be consequences. When I found out the real truth behind the existence of the Spectre Academy and Agency, it was too late."

Jack: "I'm not quite sure (chuckles). For real, I don't think I know how to answer this question."

Valen: "Like what? I wasn't a dumbshit - pretty much nothing went unnoticed. I was always a perceptive kid, and that was a blessing and a curse. Still, being clever is the difference between living to see the next week or ending up dead in a ditch when you're on the run from a bunch of crazy fuckers in suits."

Meridian: "Um. I was never a kid. I was 'born' - or rather made - to look as a young adult. Since I'm made of artificially organic material, I do actually age - but much slower than actual humans. So I can only age from my current self and forward, but I was never a kid."

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@the-golden-comet, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

#wip supernova initiative #wip scrapyard boys #writers on tumblr #writing #writers #writerblr #writeblr #my characters #character writing #my wips #my writing

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rainandandy · 22 days

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Safe & Sound - Rain Carradine and Andy Carradine OneShot

Summary: Why did Rain owe Mr Finch three months worth of hours? Her synthetic brother was designed to throw himself at the many dangers of Jackson's Star. "Do what's best for Rain"

Warnings: Angst, Hurt Synthetic

Word Count: 680

Characters: Rain Carradine, Andy Carradine

Human Sister and Synthetic Brother Core

In the gritty underbelly of Jackson's Star, Rain hustled through the narrow, cluttered streets of the colony’s market district, her eyes scanning for the familiar, weathered sign of Mr. Finch’s Mechanic Shop. It was a place piled high with spare parts and mechanical relics, the air thick with oil and desperation. Today, however, her visit was urgent—Andy had been injured again.

The incident had occurred deep within the mines, where Andy, always eager to protect Rain, had shielded her from a falling beam. The impact had left his synthetic body crumpled on the rocky ground, his voice faint and faltering as he lay amongst the debris.

“R-Rain,” Andy had stuttered, his optical sensors dimming. “I am damaged… beyond my self-repair capabilities. You must go… save yourself.”

Rain had knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she tried to assess the damage. “No, Andy, I’m not leaving you. Hold on, okay? I’ll fix this.”

His response was a weak attempt at reassurance, the corners of his mouth twitching into what might have been a smile. “You always do.”

By the time Rain dragged Andy’s battered frame to the surface, he had gone silent, his systems shutting down one by one. Now, she entered Mr. Finch’s shop, dragging what remained of her brother behind her.

“Finch!” she called out, her voice echoing in the cluttered space. The old mechanic, a grizzled man with a perennial scowl, appeared from behind a stack of disassembled machinery.

“What’s the damage this time, girl?” he grumbled, eyeing Andy’s inert form with a critical gaze.

Rain’s voice was urgent, desperate. “His core processor’s fried, and his power module’s been compromised. I need a chip restarter, Finch. Please.”

Finch scratched his chin, his eyes calculating. “That’s gonna cost you. Chip restarters aren’t cheap, not in this part of the galaxy.”

Rain swallowed hard, her resolve hardening. “I’ll give you three months of my hours. That’s all I can afford right now.”

The mechanic’s eyebrows shot up, surprise flickering across his features before he masked it with his usual gruff demeanour. “Three months, huh? You sure about that, girl? That’s a hefty chunk of your life you’re handing over.”

“I know what it’s worth,” Rain replied steadily. “And so do you. Andy’s saved my life more times than I can count. I owe him this. I owe him everything.”

Finch sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of years spent bargaining for parts and hours. “Alright, Rain. I’ll get the restarter. But this is a one-time deal. You keep bringing him in here like this, one day I might not be able to fix him up.”

Rain nodded, her eyes never leaving Andy’s still face. “Thank you, Finch.”

As Finch retreated into the back of his shop, Rain sat beside Andy, taking his hand in hers. “You hear that? We’re going to fix you up. Just hang in there.”

Silence filled the shop, the only sounds the distant hum of machinery and the soft, rhythmic ticking of numerous clocks lining the walls. Rain’s head drooped, exhaustion overtaking her, her grip on Andy’s hand tightening unconsciously.

When Finch returned with the chip restarter, Rain was startled awake. She watched anxiously as Finch worked, her heart caught in her throat.

Finally, with a low hum and a flicker of lights, Andy’s systems rebooted. His eyes lit up, confusion and then recognition dawning as he looked up at Rain.

“R-Rain? Did I… fulfil my directive?”

Rain’s eyes filled with tears, relief and sorrow mingling in her expression. “Yes, Andy. You kept me safe. You always keep me safe.”

Andy’s mouth twitched into a smile, weak but genuine. “Good… that is good.”

As they left Finch’s shop, Rain supporting Andy’s unsteady steps, the weight of her sacrifice hung heavy on her shoulders, the chip restarted clipped around her neck, for whenever Andy malfunctioned again. But as she glanced over at Andy, his gaze fixed ahead, a semblance of strength returning to his voice, she knew she would pay any price, give any amount of her hours, to keep him by her side.

#rain carradine #andy carradine #rain and andy #alien romulus fanfic #alien fanfic #alien romulus #alien #cailee spaeny #david jonsson #fanfic #oneshot

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nonbayanary · 11 months

Text

Teenage Mutant Mystic DEMONS AU (TMMDemons AU)

KURITA RYOUKAN

[ Subject MAOU-077. The Titan. The Tank. Middle Sibling. ]

Nonbinary.

Pronouns: She/Her.

Demon Mutant. Half-human, half-demon.

Product of the human experiment, "Project Maou."

Middle Sibling / Second Youngest Sibling.

Scientists in the Deimon facility dubbed Kurita as "Subject MAOU-077."

The only parts of Kurita's body that keep her original skin color are her hands and her head. Her legs, arms, and back, meanwhile, are now a color so dark, that it's even blacker than night.

Kurita's eyes glow red. She has markings of a large, upside-down cross on her chest. On her arms, she also has markings that look like a satanic circle, an acorn, and a star, all intersected by one long line. Her genitals are hidden within a slit in their crotch area (like turtle cloacas). Her hair is literally made out of fire. It never dies out. She also has three tails. All the Maou trio have these specific features.

Kurita's three tails are three additional arms, colored red and gold.

Kurita has four more arms on her upper back. They can transform into demon wings that are strong enough to carry Kurita and her siblings.

So, in total, Kurita has nine arms. Her seven extra arms don't have joints, so they move around like tentacles.

Her four extra arms on her back have the ability to multiply.

She usually makes use of her extra arms to pull her siblings out of danger, or to hold back Hiruma from committing homicide. It basically looks like a mass of tentacles tipped with claws, dragging the selected target towards Kurita, like so:

Kurita's fears are all centered around her accidentally hurting people, especially her siblings.

She also has sharp, clawed feet that can puncture the ground for further stability. She also has long horns on her head, which Hiruma is dead jealous of.

Sena, Musashi, and Hiruma also use Kurita as a jungle gym, more often than not. It's common to see them climbing up her back, or perching themselves on her shoulders. Kurita is of course, strong enough to carry all her siblings. When she and her siblings are in danger, her number one instinct is to grab all the others and shield them.

She is the number one heavy hitter of the team, and she deals critical hits in one move. This is why Hiruma gives her the nickname, "The Titan," to scare off their opponents.

Kurita loves cooking. She is the chef of the family, and she takes pride in her cooking. Because she's a demon, her spice tolerance is off the charts. The same is true for Hiruma and Musashi. Thus, when Kurita cooks something spicy, she makes sure to be mindful of dialling down on the spice, for Sena's and Doburoku's sakes.

Despite her battle prowess, she is very content to just farm in the fields. When cooking, she puts aside the food waste to be used for fertilizer. Her extra arms are quite handy (LMAO) when it comes to cooking. Anyone who enters the kitchen will see Kurita's extra arms zooming about, busily chopping, putting aside food waste, stirring, and taking ingredients from the cabinets.

Kurita loves bonding with Sena over cooking videos. They love watching Youtubers like Liziqi, or Tiktok channels like The Glam Kitchen.

When Kurita's free, she helps out in either Musashi's workshop, or Hiruma's "Evil Lair." She usually lugs around heavy machinery, so her siblings don't have to strain themselves.

Once a week, Kurita also accompanies Hiruma and Musashi to junkyards for spare parts.

Out of her siblings, she loves training the most. This is also why she has the best stamina among the four. Kurita spends the most time with Doburoku, because she never tires of learning new techniques, both in farming and in combat.

(She is actually Doburoku's favorite kid, but he won't ever tell a soul.)

When Kurita was young, she ran away from her abusive home. Being a little kid, she unknowingly ran into traffickers who took her from the streets, and sold her to a cult organization.

Though she associates bad memories with her birth name, Kurita Ryoukan, she does not want her tragic background to take that from her too. She holds onto that name with a vice-like grip in the hopes that someday, she will learn to love it.

And with the way her siblings fix all the cracks in her heart, she learns to see that she is, in fact, learning to love her name, because she loves the way her family says it. With affection, with devotion, and with love.

Food is the one thing that Kurita associates with love, especially because she wants her family to eat well. Kurita, in particular, was starved when she was still in the hands of the traffickers, which is why she always makes sure to eat a lot.

She loves it when her siblings climb onto her shoulders, because she adores the physical touch, and the amount of trust they put into her to hold them up.

Within the family, she gives the best hugs, because her extra arms will envelop the other person too, and make the hug extra warm!

She is a cinnamon roll who is also not afraid to fuck people up. Growing up with Hiruma and a morally ambiguous Sena means that this version of Kurita is more unhinged as well.

KURITA'S MYSTIC POWERS:

Kurita is the first among her siblings to awaken her mystic powers.

Along with Hiruma and Musashi, Kurita also has the ability to manifest mystic energy constructs.

Kurita's energy constructs manifest in the shape of her body. She can alter the construct in its entirety to giant sizes.

Kurita can also independently alter the size of its appendages to take down physically large or exceptionally powerful opponents.

She can add additional limbs to his construct, and form a more traditional energetic shield to block attacks.

Kurita's siblings can also enter her construct. She can shield them within the construct, or combine their moves with hers, like so:

In a way, Kurita's construct is like a mech, without needing the actual technological components.

Kurita's energy constructs can also grow several tentacle-like arms with clawed hands. It makes her even more dangerous in battle. Hiruma once compared her to Jaegers from the movie, "Pacific Rim."

When one of the four siblings fall unconscious mid-air, Kurita is the one who rushes to catch them.

Even if Kurita's construct crashes to the ground, the energy coating her acts as a shield, ensuring she and her companions within the construct are safe.

Kurita can also make clones that look just like her, even if they are energy constructs. When fatally harmed, only then do the clones reveal that they are only made of mystic energy, as they glitch, then fizzle into nothingness.

Kurita's energy constructs, combined with her siblings' powers, make several creative combo moves.

For example, when Kurita's gigantic energy construct is mid-punch, Sena can make a portal so that Kurita can punch an enemy who is quite a distance away. Hiruma can manifest guns that are attached to Kurita's construct, turning it into a gigantic mech that is armed to the teeth with artillery. Musashi can use Kurita's construct as a surface for his transmutations.

< PREV • AU Masterpost • NEXT >

Feel free to write or make art of this AU. But please credit me, and send me the link to what you've made! I'd love to see it!!!

This AU was based on Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (ROTTMNT), and further inspired by RWBY, The Locked Tomb, Honkai Impact 3, Fullmetal Alchemist, Solo Levelling, and Genshin Impact.

#eyeshield 21 #eyeshield21 #es21 #ryoukan kurita #kurita ryokan #ryokan kurita #kurita #tmmdemons #tmmdemons au #teenage mutant mystic demons

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dreamingmachinery · 5 months

Text

Hi.

“Oh, my newest creation blew up again…? That’s my bad. I’ll attend to it as soon as possible, and clean up the mess. No, don’t worry. I can handle it all by myself.”

— DOVE

A talented halovian mechanic from the Nightingale Family. He helps build dreamscapes and has seen far too much behind the scenes. However, nothing seems to be able to quite faze him. He has a constant passive face and a seemingly immovable personality, which makes him a little hard to approach. However, his love for machinery is true, and the quickest way to forge a positive relationship with him is if you’re willing to listen to him tell you all about his newest ideas.

AGE: 19

SPECIES: Halovian.

PRONOUNS: He/Him.

FACTIONS: The Family, Penacony.

PATH: The Erudition.

ELEMENT: Ice.

— NOTES ABOUT THE CHARACTER

THIS is Dove's full character bio, which includes character stories, lightcone descriptions, voicelines, and more!

Dove identifies as gay and acespec.

He is cripplingly single.

He is horrible with emotions and speaks shortly and ‘to the point’. He may be unnecessarily blunt as he is bad with dealing with emotions. He will usually respond in ways that are too calm for serious situations. He doesn't get angry easily.

Dove does not have many friends, but he is willing to tell you about Family secrets in exchange for spare parts from outside Penacony.

Dove does care for others, but doesn’t know how to show it and is very awkward about it. He craves companionship and someone to understand him and not be judgemental or cruel in his general direction.

In my lore, Dove has had a history with dealing with Aventurine, so if one of them shows up, he will greet them with familiarity. Dove is generally bad at socialization, but does his best. He will greatly appreciate it if you try and talk to him.

— TAGGING SYSTEM

machinery . 🔧 | for in-character posts & reblogs

cogs and gears . ⚙️ | for random thoughts

oh, a person . 🔩 | for answering asks

my cage. 𐂺 | for interactions with other family members

the crown's weight . 💫 | for interactions with sunday

caged mourner . 🎤 | for interactions with robin

there is an end . 🎨 | for interactions with delia

spare parts . 🛠️ | for interactions with aventurine

can i trust you? . 📖 | for interactions with ratio

flightless bird . 🕊 | for interactions with canon characters

a new star . ⭐ | for interactions with ocs

machine or man? . ⚡ | for writing starters/bits

winding the gears . 🛠️ | ooc!

— NOTES FROM THE MOD

I am a minor & they/them prns.

No NSFW.

OC & OC interaction is encouraged!

I don’t bite, if you wanna rp a specific situation you’re free to!

I sometimes get wordy with my replies. Author stuff 😔 - no pressure to match my energy!

I respond quickly most of the time. Yes, I’m chronically online. Help.

I love interacting with anybody. Feel free to send stuff into the inbox!

NO FLIRTING WITH ME I AM TAKEN THANKS GUYS THOUGH!

Will add onto this later.

I also mod @yingchens-writings so no, the format is not stolen. Dw. :)

If you want to use my format, PLEASE ASK FIRST.

#hsr ocs #hsr #oc #honkai star rail #honkai star rail roleplay #honkai star rail oc #honkai star rail rp #ocs #oc rp #oc roleplay #oc rp blog #original character #hsr rp #hsr roleplay

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mojimallow · 2 years

Text

crayon heist

in which usagi makes a bad choice for a good reason and hopes for the best. ~1k words. [part one] [ao3]

This was stupid.

Usagi knew what a bad decision felt like- he'd made more than plenty in his life, could hear Chizu and Auntie and Gen asking what the literal hell he was thinking- but he also knew better than to try and ignore his instincts.

And his instincts said screw it all and get those crayons.

There were only a few Krang bots patrolling, he reasoned. And the majority of their haul was with Kitsune and Chizu, and they were much closer to the exit than he was. If things got hairy, they could get out and get back and the base would still have supplies.

All he was risking was himself, really, and a sack of canned food.

He could live with that.

Or not, because he'd be dead.

Even as he was weighing the figure of speech against his own mortality, Usagi was slinking through the wreckage of what had once been some sort of giant human shopping center, ears on high alert to track the nearest bot's movements.

He suspected that was the only reason he heard the megabot approaching.

The megabot- Michelangelo's name for the Krang's towering, humanoid weapons; the name that had almost instantly replaced Donatello's much longer name for them, whatever it had been- moved eerily quietly, but Usagi would know the whirring of that machinery anywhere. It was an entirely different frequency than the smaller ones, a high, whiny buzzing that he knew most humans couldn't pick up on, that brought him to a complete stand-still about three meters shy of his target.

The megabot was close. Like, every-strand-of-fur-on-his-body-was-standing-up, this-could-easily-be-it-for-him, made-him-wonder-if-this-had-been-a-trap-somehow close. Probably just outside what remained of the building.

Before he could even fully wonder if Kitsune and Chizu had noticed it, Kitsune's high-low-high whistle rang through the ruins.

Warning.

Shit.

Usagi sprang forwards, quickly clearing the space between him and the shelf of abandoned art supplies. By some miracle, none of the smaller bots were close enough to sense him as he shoveled boxes of crayons and colored pencils into his spare loot bag. He snatched a few sketchbooks off of the dilapidated rack and set them in the bag as carefully as he could before upending a bin of dusty novelty erasers in after them and tugging the zipper shut with enough force that he briefly worried he'd break it.

He tossed the bag around his neck and shoulder, tightening the strap as he spun and dashed across rubble to meet his friends.

When he slides into place between them, crouched behind what was probably a freezer once upon a time, he earns a look of suspicion and a look of approval.

Because they have bigger problems, he turns towards approval. "How close?"

"What, those big ears just for show these days?" Kitsune quipped.

"Ten meters from the door, if you can call it that," Chizu interjected. "Right in the way."

Because of course it was. "Is stealth an option?"

"Yeah, just not a very good one."

"Better than charging it."

"Only if you want to live," she said dryly. "Otherwise, charge ahead."

They chose stealth.

It was in the running for the slowest ten meter walk of Usagi's life, and not just because of their actual pace. Every second exposed in the dim, foggy light of the apocalypse felt like forever, every step felt like walking through a minefield.

There was one moment- one terrifying, blood-curdling moment- where he lost his footing. The wreckage they were walking on and through shifted, falling a few inches and taking his right foot with it.

Worse, the sudden shift in the megabot's humming meant that the sound had caught the machine's attention.

Shit.

And then something blew up behind them and it took every last shred of his self-control not to swear out loud.

Thankfully, it seemed to take the megabot's focus off of them, because he could just hear it moving away. He looked back at his friends, and their complete lack of surprise combined with Kitsune's satisfied smirk told him all he needed to know about the explosion's origin.

The rest of their trip home went by much quicker.

Once they finally, finally were back within the steady lights and consistent busyness of the base, Kitsune took Chizu's bags and the first of Usagi's- shooting a quick glance at the bag now held against his chest, meeting his eyes, looking at Chizu, and shrugging- and made her way to storage to inventory their haul.

"What was so important that you thought it was okay to break away from the group?" Chizu demanded the instant Kitsune left, arms crossed and brow furrowed.

Maybe he should have charged the megabot.

"It... was a feeling," he offered lamely, feeling all of seventeen again under her steady gaze.

"A feeling?"

"A feeling." That night with Leonardo and little Casey in the dojo flashed through his mind, bringing with it a sense of confidence and flooding into his voice. "I knew you and Kitsune could get out without me, and... well, you of all people know how much better the kids here deserve."

He unzipped the bag and her eyebrows shot up, looking from the contents to him and back again. "You risked your life for art supplies?"

"They deserve it, Chizu. This is the bare minimum."

She studied him for a moment, long enough that his new-found confidence began to flicker. Then she sighed and let her arms fall to her sides.

Usagi grinned, because he knew what a victory felt like, too. He closed the bag and stepped away from her. "I'm going to go hand these over to the Hamatos," he said. "There isn't really a space for them in storage."

"Good idea. And Usagi!"

Uh oh.

"Make sure you explain how you got them to Leonardo. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear all about it."

Usagi, a mature adult, rolled his eyes at her teasing tone and left,

Leonardo didn't need to worry about how.

#moji's stuff #moji writes #leoichi #leo rottmnt #future leo #future rottmnt #yuichi usagi #leosagi #tmnt #tmnt fic #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #kitsune #chizu

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raventroll80 · 4 months

Note

I don't actually know, like, anything about your oc's. Give me a primer on 'em so I can start forming silly little headcanons about them?

Thank you so much for the ask!

I have a few ocs from a couple different things so I’m gonna organize them by the thing they’re connected to. (This is going to be a really long post, sorry)

The Troll Doomguy Au

(honestly I need to think of a proper name for this lol)

Things are a little messy and all over the place time wise as I didn’t originally plan for this to become a full on fic.

Slayer (the aforementioned troll Doomguy)

Roughly 15 feet of angry troll who also has a habit of eating the demons.

Cropped his ears at some point to make them look vaguely human, almost docked his tail but chose not to after seeing some now probably extinct species of demon use their tail as a weapon.

From the events of 2016 and prior he had the Meathook on his tail but put it on his shotgun after the attachment was ripped off by a certain grudge holding Cyberdemon.

In the events of Eternal it’s been replaced with a mace and has a more limited range.

He’s pretty smart despite what most people think, it’s just that a lot of his problems can genuinely be solved with Incredible Violence.

Has a very hazy recollection of the events of Doom 1993 and anything before that is even more hazy due to him repressing those memories.

He did have a wife and kid (stepson) who he loved dearly but lost them during an “accident”

Despite all this he’s actually pretty chill!

He tends to get easily attached to people who aren’t as easily afraid of him.

Considers Valen as family despite Valen himself not really knowing.

Mim Digsby

In the events of A Beast on Mars, Mim is the last human alive in the Mars Facility.

5,4 gremlin of a person who likes to take apart machinery in their spare time.

They’re a miner and mechanic who usually works with excavation equipment, and has clearance to work with mining gloves.

Started the trend of saying thank you to VEGA whenever one of the drones did something helpful or brought supplies. (This is also what got them their mechanic training after VEGA did some light string pulling)

Has punched a foreman for trying to make people continue mining in an unstable tunnel.

Used to be in a relationship with an Elite Guard prior to their “promotion” but things didn’t really work out after, but the two are still friends.

Is on Mars as part of a “criminal rehabilitation program”. Their license expired on their way moving back to Massachusetts and got arrested after getting into a fight with some rich dude at a bar.

VEGA (my take on Vega at least)

Plant enthusiast, he thinks they’re neat. Slayer was more than happy to give him a section of the greenhouses for his own personal garden.

Didn’t like Slayer at first due to how aggressive he seemed to be towards the equipment of the facility and was worried he’d end up harming any possible survivors.

Quickly found out he truly means best for the survivors of the invasion and also feels sympathetic towards Slayer after finding out the little bits of memory he does have regarding the UAC.

He’s pretty sure if he was capable of getting headaches he’d be getting them daily from Slayer trying to do something stupid i.e trying to fist fight a demon twice his size.

Keeps a list of all the things he’s caught Slayer eating that he probably shouldn’t be.

This list includes: excessive amounts of demons, Gore Nest remains, garbage from a cafeteria, an unidentified Argenta plant, dirt, Hellgrowth, and “mystery meat”.

Derrin Willams (Troll au Intern)

Used to own rats, but they passed away prior to the invasion.

Tech support for the ARC but also just helped out wherever needed.

Liked reading about the Slayer and Argent D’Nur and found him fascinating and was genuinely ecstatic to meet him. (He really wants to see a withrin)

Still gets spooked by Slayer from time to time, but has managed to spook him back.

Surprisingly good with a gun and can at least hold his own against zombies and like a singular imp scout

(Not really a personality fact but his last name comes from my blind ass mistaking the numbers on his uniform as the word William or Willams)

There are other characters and ocs I plan to appear in the au but I haven’t gotten there and burnout is making things hard in general, oof. I’ll probably do up a bigger one of these specifically for the troll au in the future.

Stowaway Mer au

I’m doing the Mer au version of Stowaway mostly because there’s significantly more stuff for it (see nearly 30 drawings and like 6 chapters for one au). But honestly it’s pretty far removed from Doom and I might rework it into its own thing… which means redesigning nearly 30 sea demons….

Em Barbatus

5,3, Former Canadian

Ace

Loves horror movies and practical effects.

Lived with her “aunty” Nihm in an apartment in Port Murlow prior to moving into the Old Taggart house with Flynn.

Works at a bait shop and Mr. Grimmar’s Occult Shop.

Training to be a mortician at the mortuary the Mr. Silas Grimmar owns.

Owns some homemade ghost hunting equipment and occasionally mucks about old abandoned places with her friends looking for ghosts.

Occasionally helps out at the local theatre’s costume department

Has committed the third least amount of crimes out of the main cast of the mer au

Hobby of beach combing and diving for junk in Taggart Bay.

Seth (technical Seth Willams in regular Stowaway)

The token mer of the mer au lol

Looks like a mix of leopard and Port Jackson shark and is from the Indo Pacific and southern Pacific Ocean (he is very fucking lost)

Needs glasses but can’t exactly get any as he’s a fish man.

Has a fear of the open ocean and orcas and does not enjoy long travels between the reefs an kelp

Has a fascination with human technology and history and enjoys exploring shipwrecks with his siblings. Though after a bad experience with some humans he is somewhat distrustful of them.

Has no clue how the hell he ended up in the Atlantic.

Has committed the least amount of crimes… so far

Flynn Taggart

Looks intimidating but is actually pretty chill

Moved to Port Murlow following his discharge from the military for various reasons.

Has many fond memories of his visits there when his grandfather lived in it, though he still doesn’t like the basement even now that he’s older.

Starting to show signs of selective mutism and is learning sign language because of it. He also isn’t a fan of eye contact anymore after the mountain incident.

Has a picture of Daisy in his wallet and is looking into getting her certified as an emotional support animal.

Recently gotten a job on a fishing boat and already doesn’t like his boss.

He inherited the house from his now missing grandfather Keen.

Doesn’t like being alone in the house

Tied with Vega for the second most crimes committed in the au (this wasn’t intentional I realized how many of the characters have committed crimes in this like halfway through the month)

Speaking of Vega

Vega Triton

Has a degree in marine biology and is currently studying a newly discovered species of bioluminescent algae he named Vegastella scriptorseintillais

Vega is the second oldest person living in the Old Taggart house.

Used to work with Dr. Hayden and Pierce but after an accident that left many researchers including Olivia dead Vega and Samuel had a dispute which left the two very bitter with each other.

He blames himself for the aforementioned accident.

Vega moved into the old Taggart house after realizing that living on a cave connected to another cave containing hallucinogenic algae is not good for his mental and physical health.

Nihm Barbatus

Freelance security guard and one Em’s mentors.

Met Em during one of her contacts on a cargo ship that had left Canada.

Made friends with Flynn when he was briefly a freelance security guard, and was the one who told Em that Flynn was looking for roommates.

Friend of the Grimmar couple.

She also has a large extended family and plans to bring Em with her to the next family reunion.

Silas Grimmar

Port Murlow’s goth grandpa

7,3 and build like a coffin

Been happily married to his husband Hiram for many, many years.

Runs the local mortuary and an Occult shop

A jovial old man who often volunteers at the local theatre.

Graduated with a degree in mortuary science and occult studies from Miskatonic University.

Tea drinker

Hiram Grimmar

Silas’ husband and owner of the antique store across the street from Silas’ occult shop.

Has an archeology degree and is a retired archeologist.

Met Silas when his team needed to consult someone on some artifacts they had dug up.

Coffee drinker.

#ohgod this turned out a lot longer than I was expecting #I should probably make that mer au it’s own thing #but oh dear god I’ll have to redesign so many sea demons #the goblin answers #long post #the goblin speaks #troll! doomguy au #stowaway mer au #I should do a character line up for these #I just realized that this is technically all just doom related ocs though the mer au is straying real far from doom

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digitalmidnight · 1 year

Text

Protostar

A Bandana Waddle Dee centric fic that takes place between Superstar Saga and Return to Dreamland (Chap1, 6k~ words. Chap2, 4k~ words)

Chapter 1 + some wip for Chapter 2

The best perk of Bandana Dee's job was his bedroom. It was located on the second floor of the East wing, far from the barracks the soldiers slept in. His only neighbor was the Great King himself, who lived directly above him and, despite his tendency to stay up late into the night, he was quite quiet. Well, most nights anyway.

Bandana Waddle Dee opened his eyes slowly. 2:43 am, his clock read. Why'd he wake up? He didn’t feel thirsty, hungry, nor did he feel the urge to visit the bathroom. He wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, he felt he was in the most comfortable position he could be, bundled in thick, fuzzy blankets as the cool night’s breeze swept over the rest of the room from the cracked open window. Whatever reason he had to wake up didn’t matter. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and let the fountain of dream’s blessing wash over him yet again.

The sound of machinery reached the Waddle Dee’s ears. The King’s power drill, to be precise. Disgruntled and tired, Bandana Dee forced his eyes open to stare at the clock. 2:45 am. Despite his role as advisor, he preferred not to be against the king in any way. At the same time, his liege was using a power drill at near 3am. With much displeasure, Bandana peeled himself from his warm cocoon and made his way to the window. Pressing his cheek against the cold pane, the workshop on the third floor of the north wing where his King always did his engineering work was visible. The lights were on and the windows were closed, yet they did little to muffle the noises. He shut his window in hopes that maybe it would silence the cacophony of tools. It didn’t. With a sigh, Bandana Dee dragged himself from the window to make the long crawl to the Great King.

“My liege?” Softly called out Bandana. He had slipped into the room during a brief pause in the noises. Hunched over the workbench, King Dedede had his back to the door and protective headphones covering his ears. The power drill and all his other, louder tools currently weren’t in his hands as he appeared to be comparing whatever he was working on to his notes. It took a moment, but he did eventually turn to Bandana Dee, who was still in the doorway.

King Dedede took off his headphones and his safety glasses as quickly as he could without taking his headpiece off with it. “Strawberry shortcake?” Figures he wouldn’t question Bandana Dee being up at 3am, just if the slice of cake that Bandana Dee had grabbed for him was Strawberry shortcake. He had brought it knowing the King would enjoy a snack, hopefully enough to agree to leave whatever project he was working on for a more typical hour.

“Correct, Great King.” Seeing as there was no clear spot on the table, Bandana Dee opted to just hand the cake to King Dedede, who eagerly took it. “I thought you would enjoy a treat.”

The King didn’t even use a fork. He ate quicker than he usually did, if even possible, then wiped his hands on a spare rag before going back to reading his notes. The notes were an amalgamation of the King’s spontaneous ideas, observations, and complaints. All of which were written so erratically and messily that if Bandana had to read the notebook, he would need a decoder. On the table laid a metal shell that looked similar to the Great King’s hammer, as well as a small rocket and engine that may have once belonged to a vehicle of some sorts. Several blueprints for many other machines were scattered across the table, layered so only parts of them were visible. Nails and bolts were in piles wherever they could be. If there was a method to the madness, Bandana Dee didn’t see it.

Bandana Dee stood nearby, staring to see if he could figure out where his King was in his project, when he was pulled out of his thoughts by the king. “Hey, wait a sec. Since when are you up at midnight, Bandee?”

“It’s just past 3, sir.” Bandana Dee corrected.

“Quit joshin' with me, it ain’t that late!” Snapped King Dedede as he turned to his digital clock that rested on the wall just above the window. A fierce blush was making his way across his cheeks from the embarrassment and frustration at being wrong. As his King’s closest subordinate, he wouldn’t say a word about it.

“I heard your power drill from my room, Great King, and I thought you would want a small break from your work.”

His blush grew, however, the anger shifted away to sheepishness. He wouldn’t apologize, and Bandana Dee didn’t expect one, however he knew in his heart the King did feel semi guilty about the noise. Hopefully enough to cease using any loud tools so late in the evening again.

Hoping to shift the topic to one less embarrassing to his King, he asked curiously, “what are you working on, sir?”

“Well, you see this here?” King Dedede pointed to a blueprint on the table, one Bandana Dee couldn’t see from his vantage point. Thankfully, King Dedede shimmied to the right on his bench, making room for him to crawl onto the seat. The blueprint he was pointing to was of Kabula, his personal aircraft with advanced AI controls. It was of her redesign, which was faster and deadlier thanks to the efforts of the Great King, who had worked tirelessly on her until he declared the project finished last week.

King Dedede was tapping on a part of the blueprint showing a mere section of the aircraft. It was either a missile or a jet. “I thought adding a bit more oomph to my hammer will help me clobber that there Kirby. Makin’ my swings heavier and faster with this here engine will give that puffball a run for his money, if he even makes it to me! Ha!”

“Great King,” Bandana Dee exclaimed in curious confusion. It appeared as though his king were planning to add in a small engine along with a jet to a hammer. Yes, that would make his swings faster and heavier, however, “Wouldn’t that make your hammer too heavy?”

With a devious snicker, already imagining the future fight with Kirby, King Dedede picked up the engine from a nearby pile of parts and tossed it with the ease he would an apple. “Ha! This little extra weight ain’t anything! Heck, I think even you could carry it.” With that, he held out the engine in offering. Bandana Dee stared sleepily at it for a moment before reaching out to hold it. How heavy could it possibly be?

Heavy. So heavy. As soon as King Dedede’s support was gone, the engine, along with his hands, were dragged down to his feet. Thankfully, his liege had better reflexes than him, or perhaps he was just more awake, and grabbed the engine before either him or the engine took damage. That engine had to weigh more than 600 apples at the least, yet his King could hold it with ease.

“Uh, guess not. You okay?” Without looking, the Great King casually dropped the engine on the workbench, roughly where it had been originally.

“Y-yes.” To be sure, Bandana Dee shook his arms a little. He was fine. “Kirby sure has a tough fight ahead of him if you use that hammer, sir.”

“And I’ll have an easy one!” King Dedede turned back towards his worktable. “Tomorrow is the day me and Kirby’s rivalry ends once ‘n for all!”

“Of course, sire.” Tomorrow was the day. By morning, they would send for Kirby. If Bandana Dee’s calculations were correct, Kirby would arrive for the final battle between him and the King by sunset at the latest. The thought sent his heart racing, no matter how often his king reassured him that even if Kirby beat every other member of the army, Kirby didn’t stand a chance against the Great King. The excitement was extremely tiring, actually. A yawn escaped him.

King Dedede looked down at him. “You can go to bed now, Bandee.”

“Your Majesty should as well,” countered Bandana Dee. “We have a big day ahead of us.”

“I’ll go to bed when I’m done!” King Dedede declared, stubbornness flaring up.

“Then I will stay up with you, my King.” Bandana Dee said with his own brand of stubbornness. Though he expected that the Great King saw through this bluff when the Waddle Dee tried unsuccessfully to stifle another yawn. King Dedede said nothing about it, just moving back towards his work. The tossed aside engine was picked up with only one of his hands and laid carefully in the hammer’s shell. Arranging a tiny light so he would see, the Great King picked up a small tool and some wires and began to work on the inside of the shell.

Bandana Dee leaned over to rest his head on the King’s robe. To be able to be strong enough to hold back Kirby, who defeated Dark Matter, Nightmare, and many other terrifying bosses that Waddle Dee couldn’t name, was amazing.

If only he could be that strong as well.

Bandana Dee didn’t remember going to bed when he awoke tucked in a little too tight, but he did remember that burning desire to one day be as strong as his king. That wish of his persisted, even a week later, when he was pulling a small wagon with four neat boxes in it to the castle’s infirmary.

He approached the entrance. The doors were wide open, and the curtains drawn to let in sun. King Dedede was in the largest bed, which was closest to the wall-length window. He was reading a comic series he had been procrastinating on, boredom evident from his expression. Despite being able to drag himself back to the castle and into the infirmary, the doctor had ordered him to bedrest as his many wounds healed. He had been spending his time since either in his bedroom’s bed, the infirmary’s bed or, if he were feeling particularly adventurous, the couch in the lounge.

“My liege?” Unlike that night, the King immediately noticed Bandana Dee and practically slammed his comic book closed.

“Ah, Bandee,” he greeted. “Ready to get your butt handed to you at chess?”

“Not right now, sire.”

King Dedede looked disappointed at the answer. This said, his disappointment gave way to curiosity when he noticed the wagon. “Whatcha got there, delivery boxes?”

Bandana Dee gave a nod. “Kind of, sire. Please, choose one of them.”

King Dedede hemmed and hawed over the boxes, giving his decision on which box to choose more thought than he did some of the laws. Eventually, he settled for one, which Bandana Dee carefully picked up and handed to him. Contrasting Bandana Dee’s care, King Dedede ripped open the box in a single, eager motion.

Inside the box was a whole cake. “Oh, you got the triple chocolate layer cake, Great King. That’s the biggest of these cakes, I think.”

“These cakes?” King Dedede eyed the remaining unopened boxes. “You telling me there’s three other cakes in those there boxes?”

“Yes, however, your Majesty, they are for Kirby and Meta Knight.” Bandana Dee covered his ears.

Just as Bandana Dee knew it would, the King’s mood shifted quickly. His loud voice echoed in the empty infirmary and down the long corridors of the castle. “What do you mean it’s for Kirby and Meta Knight?! What did those two do to deserve a cake?!”

“Please, sire! They are peace cakes. It would be good to have Meta Knight and Kirby be our allies for the time being.”

“I don’t want to make friends with Kirby!” Bellowed King Dedede. At least he wasn’t protesting befriending Meta Knight, for the time being, even with the recent invasion attempt.

“My King,” Bandana Dee kept his voice gentle. “We can’t fight him at the moment. Anyone who could fight for us is out of commission. The doctor ordered you, our strongest fighter, to stay in bed. Even I am still a little sore.” At the mention of his soreness, King Dedede averted his gaze with a pout. “Wouldn’t it be nice to know Kirby and Meta Knight wouldn’t attack us? If only for a little while?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. So long as that pipsqueak knows we ain’t friends.”

“Of course, my liege.” Bandana Dee looked happily to King Dedede. “May I challenge you to a game of chess over dinner tonight?”

Regardless of his earlier bad mood, the king’s mouth twitched to a smile. “You are going to regret challenging a chess master, such as myself!” Nothing could squash his competitive spirit, it seems.

“Looking forward to it, my King.”

Castle Dedede rested on top of a hill. Or maybe it was technically a mountain. The path to town was twisty due to the steep incline, resulting in a long walk for anyone visiting. King Dedede complained about the distance from town often and would take his car whenever he deigned to visit town. Unlike his King, Bandana Dee enjoyed the walk. It forced him to take in his surroundings and enjoy the nature around him, no matter how busy he was. Today’s weather was lazy and lethargic. Fine weather, especially as it almost seemed like even the sun and moon themselves were fighting recently. Everything in Dreamland was finally able to relax. It was great weather to attempt to soothe his anxieties about giving cakes to recent enemies.

In truth, Bandana Dee knew little about Kirby. He was good at fighting, willing to put himself in harm's way for his sense of justice and liked food just as much as his king. That was the extent of his knowledge. He hadn’t even known where he lived until he asked a few villagers.

The house wasn’t as Bandana Dee expected it to be. He was expecting something that looked more cozy, maybe more outdoor furniture for Kirby’s friends to hang out. Or maybe something painted bright and colorful, with an air of importance while still being childlike. He hadn’t been expecting a small, grey dome of a house. Was this really Kirby’s home? Everyone he asked claimed it was, yet he couldn’t really be sure. It hopefully was. With a sigh to calm himself, he gave a sharp knock on Kirby’s door.

The door creaked open, a bleary eyed Kirby peaking out from the crack. He looked and sounded as though he just woke up this late into the afternoon. “Eh, the delivery guy?”

Oh, thank the stars, this is the right house. “No, I’m Bandana Waddle Dee.” Bandana Dee gave a polite bow.

“Oh!” Kirby exclaimed, now wide awake. “You are Dedede’s friend.”

“N-No! I’m the Great King’s advisor!” Hastily corrected Bandana Dee.

“Eh? Isn’t that a type of hat?”

Bandana Dee decided to ignore that. “And I am here to bring a cake as an offering of friendship fro-”

“You have cake?!” Now excited, Kirby fully threw open his door. From what Bandana Dee could see, Kirby did just roll out of bed to answer his door. Kirby ran out and excitedly looked at the wagon. Before Bandana Dee could say anything, Kirby had already grabbed one box and was reaching for another.

“Ah, Kirby. Please, only take one box!”

“Why only one?”

“Because the other two will go to Meta Knight.”

“Why does Meta Knight get two?” Whined Kirby and, for a second, Bandana Dee was astonished by the similarities between Kirby and his King.

“Sir Meta Knight needs two so he can share with his crew.” Bandana Dee explained carefully, watching Kirby’s expression in hopes that he would accept such an explanation.

He did. “Okay!” Kirby cheered up immediately, tore open the box just like King Dedede, and swallowed whatever cake he got whole. “Yummy! You sure I can’t have seconds?”

“I’m sorry. I only made four cakes.”

“Four? But there’s,” Kirby paused and slowly tried to count the boxes.

Once again, Bandana Dee gently explained, “the first went to the Great King.”

He expected some sort of complaint from that, but one never came. Instead, Kirby’s eyes sparkled. “So me and Dedede both had a friendship cake?”

“Yes,” answered Bandana Dee, now wary.

“So me and Dedede are friends?” Kirby’s voice was so full of hope and excitement. It hurt too much to outright say no.

“I’m sorry, Kirby.” The sparkle left Kirby’s eyes and he, crestfallen, stared at the ground with a quivering lip.

The guilt gnawed at Bandana Dee. He hadn’t the heart to leave Kirby like this. “But! I’ll be your friend!”

“Really?!” exclaimed an energetic Kirby. Before Bandana Dee could even utter a response, Kirby was squeezing him in a tight hug. It wasn’t an uncomfortable embrace. Kirby seemed very mindful of his strength while still holding Bandana Dee as close as possible, as though he would fly away otherwise. Just as the hug almost reached an awkward length of time, Kirby withdrew himself from Bandana Dee. Not completely though, as he now was holding on to Bandana Dee’s hand. Bewildered, Bandana Dee gave a slow blink to Kirby and another to their now clasped together hands. Kirby blinked back in response, looking as innocent as can be.

“So, what do you want to do now?”

“Um, well,” Bandana Dee could barely believe what had just happened. Surely this was a trick? Why would Kirby, King Dedede’s rival, who had only met Bandana Dee once in a fight, want to be his friend? Kirby of the Stars, destroyer of Dark Matter and savior of Dreamland wants to be his friend? The creature who his King often called the pink demon wanted to be… Bandana Dee’s friend?

“Bandana Dee,” called out Kirby. He was still holding Bandana Dee’s hand, still smiling serenely, with not a bad thought in his head. “What do you want to do? If you ask me, tempura sounds really good right now! Oh, but so does something cold and sweet like an ice cream sandwich! Then again, I am still kinda sleepy.”

“I need to deliver these two cakes to Sir Meta Knight, and I will need to return to the castle by sundown.” Saying it aloud, Bandana Dee winced. Delivering cakes wouldn’t sound fun to someone like Kirby. The nervous jitters began to build up in Waddle Dee, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. “However, I will be free the rest of the day, I think. But, then again, it might take a while to find Sir Meta Knight, so I am not exactly sure.”

“Hmmm, right now he should be,” training his eyes to the sky, Kirby trailed off. Bandana Dee tried to follow his gaze, but failed. He couldn’t tell whether Kirby was looking at the sun, the clouds, some far-off, invisible star or even if he was looking at anything at all. Without warning, Kirby suddenly shouted, “at the arena, training!”

There was only one arena near here, yet Bandana Dee still felt compelled to ask, “the one where the Megaton Punch tournament was?” Kirby nodded with his whole body.

“It’s a relaxing day today,” remarked Kirby. “Meta trains to relax.”

“I see, but how are you sure he is at the arena?”

“Well, Meta likes big, open places to train, so he is somewhere with a lot of room. Today is such a sleepy day, so his crew will want to take a nap, so they will be somewhere difficult to take a nap, so not under Whispy Woods’ shade. Lastly, Meta likes it when people cheer for him, so he is somewhere where it is easy to cheer for people, like an arena!” Kirby held a big grin on his face as he waited for a reaction.

“Wow, Kirby.” Whispered Bandana Dee, which was close enough to the reaction that Kirby was looking for. Regardless of the process that brought him there, the arena was as good a place as any to start looking for Meta Knight. “Thank you for your help.”

“Eh? Why do you sound like you are saying goodbye?”

“Oh, I had thought you wouldn’t want to do something as boring as delivering cakes with me.”

With a certain desperation, Kirby shook his head. “No! Chores are boring, but they can be fun with friends! Besides, I haven’t seen Meta since you-know-what. It’ll be nice to say hi and help give the friendship cake so we can all be friends!”

There was just something about Kirby. Maybe it was the simple, straight-forward attitude of his or maybe the way he wore his heart on his sleeve. There was just something that made it seem like being friends with Kirby would be easy. Bandana Dee could feel no ill-intent nor ulterior motive from the Pink Demon holding his hand, just the simple joy that comes from being near a friend.

“Come on then, Bandana Dee!” Bandana Dee nearly forgot that him and Kirby were still holding hands, however he was swiftly reminded of that fact when he was pulled with remarkable speed and strength down the steep hill with his wagon clunking along behind.

“S-slow down Kirby!”

Bandana Dee wasn’t expecting Kirby to be exactly right. Hand in hand, Bandana Dee and Kirby approached the arena entrance, already having heard the sounds of swordplay before they arrived. Two of the Meta-Knights, Trident Knight and Mace Knight, were having a mock battle as the other Meta-Knights lounged tiredly near their weapons in the afternoon sun. Meta Knight loomed from the highest seats in the arena, watching his crew like a hawk. Those piercing eyes of his behind his mask caused Bandana Dee to freeze up. This was Meta Knight! The intergalactic legend whom just last week was planning a takeover of dreamland!

Meta Knight spread his wings, making himself seem all the more larger, and glided to the middle of the arena. Bandana Dee felt his fight-or-flight senses screaming at him to run, abandon the cakes, and seek somewhere beyond Meta Knight’s gaze. Lacking that fear that Bandana Dee held, Kirby finally released Bandana Dee’s hand and ran towards Meta Knight. He embraced the Knight just as tightly as He did Bandana Dee. Meta Knight remained stoic, motionless, and unfazed.

“…Greetings Kirby and…” Meta Knight paused, then looked towards Galaxia in its sheath as though it held whatever answers he was seeking. “…Bandana Dee.” He lightly tapped Kirby’s side twice, after which Kirby released the Knight and ran back towards Bandana Dee. This time, Bandana Dee reached for Kirby’s hand first, squeezing it tight.

“Good afternoon, Sir Meta Knight,” Bandana Dee managed to say. All other words failed him. He could feel the stares of the Meta-Knights on him as he did everything in his power to not tremble. He felt a reassuring squeeze from Kirby and squeezed back. All the while, Meta Knight stood still, watching.

Seeing as nobody else wanted to speak, Kirby shouted out, “we have friendship cakes!”

“Cake?” Excitedly asked one of the Meta-Knights. Axe Knight, Bandana Dee believed their name was. To his relief, all the attention was drawn to his little wagon and the two still-intact boxes inside.

“May we borrow the wagon?” Abruptly asked Meta Knight.

Bandana Dee squeaked out a “Y-Yes, sir!”

“Very well. Bring the cake back to base. Save some for Captain Vul and Sailor.”

Bandana Dee was confused for a moment, wondering if the command was for him, until the Meta-Knights released a chorus of “Yes, Sir!”

“May I?” asked the one who Bandana Dee was sure was Blade. He handed off the wagon to the knight. With invigorated spirits, The Meta-Knights then began to leave the area, happily talking amongst one another about cake. Without another word, Meta Knight turned around and began to stalk to a training dummy.

Kirby let out a small, cheery hum. “That went well. Meta Knight looks really happy!”

“Does he?” Bandana Dee had to ask. Meta Knight, carrying on as though he didn’t hear their conversation, unsheathed the legendary Galaxia. In a movement too swift for Bandana Dee to catch, Meta Knight had chopped the Mr. Sandman in half.

“Yeah, that’s his happy slashes!” The Mr. Sandman regenerated with a pop, only to be cut in twain once more. Meta Knight’s power was great, that much was evident. Though Bandana Dee knew this already, along with almost everyone else in the galaxy. He was a legendary warrior, perhaps the strongest one who ever lived if one didn’t count Kirby. The other thing he had been known for was his mystique. His actions, reasoning, expressions were all a mystery nobody who told his stories knew. Bandana Dee could see why. Nobody, save Kirby and perhaps his crew, seemed to be able to read Meta Knight.

A sudden thought hit Bandana Dee, an intrusive one that he couldn’t suppress. Meta Knight trained people into warriors. The crew under him were considered to be one of the most capable in the galaxy. And here Meta Knight was, in front of him. He is most likely stranded on Popstar for a time until the mighty Halberd is restored. Maybe then he might not mind training Bandana Dee? He internally berated himself for the thought. This was Meta Knight. Why would he train someone like Bandana Dee? A burst of unexpected courage shot through him, screaming at him, why not ask? Just ask, and he can decline and Bandana Dee can spend the remainder of his time away from the castle with Kirby.

“Sir Meta Knight!” blurted out Bandana Dee. All his courage disappeared the moment he heard his own voice. He had to ask, though. He knew he would regret it for years if he didn’t. “Sir, um- can you teach me how to fight?” Meta Knight turned to face Bandana Dee. “Not as a member of your crew or anything- just the basics are fine! And it’s fine if you don’t want to or anything-”

Meta Knight interrupted his rambling. “Have you fighting experience?”

“I-er-no.”

“What do you mean, Bandana Dee?” Innocently remarked Kirby. “You fought me.”

“Yes, but,” Bandana Dee trailed off as he stared at Meta Knight. He was staring right back. “Would you say I have fighting experience, Kirby?”

Kirby opened his mouth to speak. However shut it quickly as he quietly thought about it. “You did good for your first try?” He weakly offered.

Meta Knight paid Kirby’s answer no mind. “Why do you wish to learn to fight?” Bandana Dee closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see Meta Knight’s intense stare. Why did he wish to fight? How could he put that feeling of his into words?

After a moment, Bandana Dee settled on an answer. “I want to protect my home, just as the Great King and Kirby do.” A light breeze blew, prompting Bandana Dee to open his eyes. Meta Knight was no longer staring. Instead, he appeared deep in thought, transfixed at some point far beyond Bandana Dee. Kirby, again, gave Bandana Dee’s hand a squeeze. When Bandana Dee turned to face him, he shot a confident grin at him as well, like Kirby already knew Meta Knight’s answer would be positive. Bandana Dee gave the hand a squeeze back. He wished he shared that sentiment.

Meta Knight broke the silence. “What is your weapon of choice?”

“I suppose the spear? However, I haven’t had any experience with any weapon.”

“That is fine.” Meta Knight turned to the stands and crossed the short distance there. From where one of the Meta-Knights were sitting, he pulled out a wooden training spear. He threw it towards Bandana Dee, who jumped back along with Kirby. If Bandana Dee hadn’t jumped back, the spear would have landed just in front of him.

“Show me what you do know.” Meta Knight commanded. Bandana Dee wanted to respond with how he knew nothing of the spear, but Meta Knight probably already knew that. He released Kirby’s hand, then grabbed the spear. It was slightly taller than expected. It was more of a pike than a spear, given that it lacked a metal tip.

He shifted his grip towards the middle of the pole and ran towards the Mr. Sandman. He swung it. With a soft thud, it hit the top of Mr. Sandman’s head. No damage appeared to be done. He swung again and whacked Mr. Sandman’s side.

“Good Job, Bandana Dee!” Called Kirby. Bandana Dee whacked Mr. Sandman again. It appeared there was still no damage done.

“Enough.” Announced Meta Knight.

“He did really good, right, Meta Knight?” Kirby prompted, staring at Meta Knight expectantly.

“…You attacked as though you thought your spear was a hammer.”

“Oh,” whispered Bandana Dee. He was right, he was swinging like he had seen the Great King do before. That didn’t ease the sting of the blunt criticism.

“This said,” Meta Knight paused, then gave a short nod. “You have potential. I will train you while I am in Dreamland.”

Bandana Dee nearly dropped his weapon in surprise. “R-really?!” Meta Knight would train him?!

“Be warned, my training has been described as rigorous.”

“I can handle it! Thank you, Sir Meta Knight!”

“Very well. First lesson, how to hold your weapon. Kirby, you too.”

Kirby, who had been smiling at them, groaned, but complied. Meta Knight was firm and exact. Once he was sure Kirby and Bandana Dee knew how to wield a spear, he had them run laps while holding it safely. While Bandana Dee wasn’t sure how comfortable he was running with the real thing yet, he was grateful for the practice. Especially given the one or two times he tripped. Learning to safely fall with his weapon seemed like an important thing to learn.

Following their laps was a quick lesson on how to thrust a spear. Kirby took to the attack like a blipper to water. Unlike Kirby, Bandana Dee fumbled. The movement felt unnatural and janky. It wasn’t yet a fluid motion. Sometimes, despite feeling he did everything right, Bandana Dee still missed the Mr. Sandman with his attack. Meta Knight gave out small, verbal corrections, mostly over his stance. This was fine. Bandana Dee inhaled, exhaled, then tried again. And again. And again.

“You are getting better.” Meta Knight remarked after a short while.

Bandana Dee glanced towards him in surprise. “Sir, I missed.”

“You are improving. Focus on that.” He was right. Bandana Dee had no clue how to do this yesterday. He was improving, and tomorrow he’d improve more. He had to focus on that.

Kirby’s voice cut through Bandana Dee’s thoughts. “Hey, uh, Bandana Dee?” Kirby asked, sounding unsure. He was sitting next to the Mr. Sandman he had been training on.

“Yes, Kirby?”

“It’s sunset.”

It’s sunset? It’s sunset! Bandana Dee dropped his spear and turned towards the sky. It was a beautiful, fiery orange. Fiery like his King’s temper when Bandana Dee is late. “Oh my Nova! Thank you, Kirby. Thank you for training me, Sir Meta Knight. I need to run back to the castle. Please excuse me!”

Without warning, Meta Knight stretched out his wings, preparing for flight. “Flying would be faster.”

“Thank you, Sir Meta Knight, but you don’t have to- ah!” Meta Knight grabbed Bandana Waddle Dee and flew quickly away from the arena.

“Bye, Bandana Dee! Meta Knight!” Called out Kirby from the ground. He was already so far away. The wind was loud and chilly. They were closer to the tips of pine trees than the ground. It was thrilling. Castle Dedede looked beautiful from up here, glowing in the sunset. Meta Knight sure hadn’t been lying when he so boldly claimed flying would be faster. They arrived at the castle within only a few minutes.

“May you drop me off on that balcony over there? On the second floor?” Shouted out Bandana Dee. He hoped Meta Knight could hear him over all this wind. He seemed to, as Meta Knight, with great care, dropped Bandana Dee off on the balcony he requested. It was the one that connected to the infirmary. King Dedede was not in his bed, nor was he even in the room. Nurse Waddle Dee was, however, and startled upon their arrival.

“Bandana Dee! The Great King is looking for you!” Exclaimed Nurse Dee. Oh dear, just what he feared.

“Where is his Majesty?”

“I’ll go get him!” Before Bandana Dee could protest, Nurse Dee had already fled from the room. Instead, Bandana Dee turned his attention towards Meta Knight. He hadn’t left and was perched on the wall, looking down at Bandana Dee.

“Thank you again for the ride, Sir Meta Knight. You may leave, if you wish.”

Meta Knight turned his head slightly. “Will you be in trouble for your tardiness?”

“Not overly so.” Bandana Dee could imagine his King throwing a fit and making Bandana Dee make him a certain food, yet he doubted he would be in too much trouble.

“Regardless, I’ll take the fall for you being late.”

“Sir Meta Knight, you didn’t know I needed to be back at the castle by sunset, and it was me who lost track of time!” Protested Bandana Dee. Not even mentioning the still rocky relationship between King Dedede and Meta Knight! Bandana Dee wouldn’t forgive himself should a fight break out over Meta Knight taking the fall for Bandana Dee’s faults.

Meta Knight wasn’t given a chance for a rebuttal, if he was even planning on giving one. The double doors to the infirmary were slammed open. “Bandee!” Shouted out King Dedede. The King’s excited smile disappeared the moment he saw Meta Knight. His stance changed. He held himself cordially but looked prepared to fight if need be.

“Good evening, Great King. I was out on a walk and lost track of time. Sir Meta Knight flew me here when he saw my panic.” Bandana Dee gave a polite bow to Meta Knight as he prayed Meta Knight went along with his story. “Thank you for flying me here, Sir Meta Knight.”

“…farewell.” Without any more warning, Meta Knight flew off with a flap of his wings. King Dedede and Bandana Dee watched as his silhouette got smaller the further he went. From the direction he looked as though he were heading back to the arena.

From behind him, King Dedede let out a low, tired groan. His show of bravado was done and gone. He collapsed on to the hospital bed, near breathless from exertion.

“Great King!” Exclaimed Bandana Dee. “Are you alright?!”

Bandana Dee received a muffled “I’m fine,” in response. Guilt still gnawed at Bandana Dee. His King was probably exhausted after searching the castle for him, all because Bandana Dee couldn’t be on time. King Dedede moved his head so he could see Bandana Dee, then glared. Why? Bandana Dee froze. Maybe he really was mad this time! Maybe some big emergency came up that went poorly without Bandana Dee!

He hadn’t expected the next words out of his King’s mouth. “Where’d you get that scrape on your cheek?” Scrape? Bandana Dee put a hand to his cheek, only to retract it from the sting. It must’ve happened during the laps he ran. He hadn’t noticed.

“I tripped during my cake deliveries. It must have happened then,” lied Bandana Dee. His King clearly wouldn’t like the idea of Meta Knight training him, yet Bandana Dee needed to learn how to be strong. It would be fine, for now. He’ll tell King Dedede when he is ready.

With another groan, King Dedede pushed himself to a sitting position on the bed. Then, as suddenly as Meta Knight, grabbed Bandana Dee. Before he could utter a word, Bandana Dee found himself sitting on the foot of the hospital bed as King Dedede reached for a first-aid kit.

“I can take care of it, Sire.” Ignoring Bandana Dee, King Dedede brought out a disinfectant wipe and a bandage. He cleaned and bandaged the wound without a word. “Are you angry, your Majesty?”

“Nah,” King Dedede quickly dismissed. “Just a bit hungry.” On cue, his stomach growled. Strange, his King should have had dinner as soon as the sun hit the horizon.

“Oi! Start servin’ dinner in here! Prompto!” Bellowed King Dedede. Several Waddle Dees ran from the hallway into the infirmary and began to put both King Dedede’s and Bandana Dee’s servings of dinner on to a temporary table. It appeared as though the search for Bandana Dee had been prioritized over dinner. Both guilt and gratitude swelled in his heart.

“You good? Bandage okay?” Asked his King in a tone gentler than he addressed the others with.

“Thanks to you, my King.” Reassured Bandana Dee. He turned to look outside. The fiery sunset had gone away, replaced by the cool evening’s sky. “Is it too late for a game of chess, Great King?”

King Dedede gave a mischievous smile. “After dinner you are gonna regret that challenge!” Bandana Dee wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter 2, Persevering (wip)

Bandana Dee digs himself into a hole. Meta Knight is awkward. King Dedede struggles being nicer than his usual haughty self. Kirby is just happy to be around friends. A chapter that sets up the main conflict and gives more insight about the current dynamics between the four.

... means there's missing words or scenes that are incomplete. I'm open to concrit on chapter 2 on this post only. Mostly about y'alls opinion on pacing as I know I ramble sometimes

Bandana Dee liked schedules. He never was able to adhere to them due to the unpredictable nature of his King and his job, but he liked them in theory. They gave him much needed structure.

He awoke in the early morning every day, often rising before the sun, and ran through the report from night-shift Waddle Dees. The report would say everything was fine and orders for necessities like food were received as well as properly stored. In the kitchen, the chefs would be making the breakfast that Bandana Dee planned the day before. Bandana Dee would greet them as he grabbed a glass of juice to drink during his work.

In the interim between waking up and breakfast, Bandana Dee would do all of the planning and organizing for the day. He’d organize schedules of the soldiers, the janitors, the chefs and everyone besides his King. The King’s breakfast, lunch, dinner and all snacks were planned for, down to the ingredients needed and price. The Waddle Dees’ food, however, was handled by the chefs based on what the others requested, so Bandana Dee had to track trends and insure they didn’t run out of any popular foods or essential ingredients. When he deigned for a break from planning, he would go outside briefly to check the mail and sort the bills, from the junk, from the advertisements his King would care about. There never was any fun mail, like a nice letter or an invitation, yet Bandana Dee still kept his hopes up that there would be one, some day. Bills would be scheduled to be paid, junk mail would be recycled or given to one of the Waddle Dees who was working on a collage and the relevant mail would be kept close to show to his Liege.

If sticking to the schedule, breakfast would be ready soon and King Dedede would need to be awoken. This responsibility also fell to Bandana Dee. The process took long enough that breakfast would already be on the table when they entered the dining room. It was a quiet meal. King Dedede was never awake enough for conversation. On a normal day, the rest of the schedule would be played by the ear, dependent entirely on his Liege. There would be no more semblance of a schedule until late evening, when his Majesty decided he wanted to go to bed. Bandana Dee would quietly do inventory and check the finances to make sure everything was accounted for, then would finally get to rest.

Now, his schedule was a little more structured. He still did his morning chores, still sorted the mail and still ate with his King, but when Noon approached, Bandana Dee began to delegate what chores he could. He would bid his King farewell, sneak something from the kitchen and hurry down the path to the town as soon as possible. Typically, Kirby would be napping in the shade of a tree that grew between the castle and town. Today was no exception.

Bandana Dee approached without regard for volume and shook his friend lightly. “Kirby! Good afternoon!"

With a hum, Kirby began to awaken. “Hmm? Ah, Bandana Dee! Food?” He held his hands out, sleepily. Bandana Dee grabbed them and pulled him to a standing position before handing Kirby today’s snack.

“Of course! Today’s snack is…” Bandana Dee paused for dramatic effect. “An omelet muffin! They are really good, though I believe it may be lacking something like cheddar cheese.” The muffin had barely been passed to Kirby before it had been devoured.

“I thought it was yummy!”

“You think all food is yummy,” giggled Bandana Dee.

“It is!” Training with Meta Knight happened daily at 1pm. Bandana Dee liked to leave the castle early to spend time with Kirby. It was a little weird spending leisure time with anyone but his King, if Bandana Dee was being honest. He was a little out of practice for the whole friendship thing.

Not that Kirby minded one bit. “So, what do you want to do today?” He asked, agog. He had picked what they did yesterday, which was finishing half a coloring book, so it was Bandana Dee’s turn to choose.

“Let’s go to Chef Kawasaki’s.”

“Eh?” After training with Meta Knight, Kirby and Bandana Dee would visit Chef Kawasaki’s. It was a tradition started the second day of training, as Bandana Dee knew he needed a cover of sorts if he didn’t want his King to catch on. What better cover is there than handing proof of his labors in the form of tasty food to his Liege? Chef Kawasaki had agreed to pretend to mentor Bandana Dee and allow the Waddle Dee to cook in his kitchen on one condition. That condition being that, on the days Bandana Dee came over to cook, the only food Kirby could eat from his kitchen had to be made by Bandana Dee. Bandana Dee didn’t understand the condition at the time, it seemed too good to be true. He understood it now. He understood it very well now. He didn’t mind though. It was impossible to satiate an appetite like Kirby’s, however it was also very rewarding to have someone outside of the castle enjoy his cooking.

“Today, we’ll go to Chef Kawasaki’s early to prepare lunch. That way, after training, we’ll be able to have a big picnic.”

Kirby’s eyes grew large. “A picnic?!”

With a nod, Bandana Dee continued. “Yes. I think we should have it in that spot by the river. You remember? The small, flat area near the shade of that lone giant tree?”

“Yes, yes. I remember.” Kirby nodded his head eagerly. “But what about the food?”

Bandana Dee couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s antics. “Well, we will see what ingredients Chef Kawasaki has. I’m thinking maybe some cold sandwiches, yogurt with berries, some fruit juice, and a dessert of some kind. Maybe cookies. I can easily bring a box of cookies back to the castle with me. We can eat the rest of them.”

Kirby let out a squeal. “Sounds yummy! Let’s go! Come on, Bandana Dee, cookies!” With that Kirby, as he so often did, grabbed Bandana Dee’s hand and ran to Chef Kawasaki’s restaurant.

...

1pm rolled around. Kirby and Bandana Dee stood alone in the middle of the arena. Meta Knight was late. He had never been late before. Even Kirby, who was often unfazed when it came to the swordsman, looked confused. By this time, Meta Knight typically had the training dummies set and weapons laid out as he watched from somewhere high. When the time was right, he’d make a grand entrance by swooping into the arena. Now, where was he?

“Do you think this is a training exercise? One where he is hiding, and we must seek him out?”

Kirby shook his head. “No, I think he isn’t here at all.” Bandana Dee looked around the stadium anyway. Unless he was under the seats or in the announcer’s booth, there was nowhere to hide.

“What now then?” Nervously asked Bandana Dee.

Kirby looked up to the sky. Bandana Dee looked up as well. There, so small he wasn’t anything more than a speck, was Meta Knight. They watched as he soared, gradually becoming larger as he approached. Gracefully, he landed in front of them, seemingly tired. In a fluid motion, he changed his wings for a cape. It was a motion that Bandana Dee had seen dozens of times before, yet he never was sure how Meta Knight pulled off such a maneuver.

“My apologies,” grunted out Meta Knight. “Something came up.”

“It’s no trouble, Sir Meta Knight. Is everything alright?”

The only response given was a shrug. Meta Knight seemed eager to move on from the topic as he turned away from the duo. If he didn’t want to talk about it, so be it. From nowhere, to Bandana Dee’s shock, he pulled out a Mr. Sandman. He’d never seen the knight prepare nor clean up their mess from the arena. Bandana Dee watched as Meta Knight did the move once again. This time he brought out the training spear, which was easily twice the knight’s height. Where could he be hiding these objects before pulling them out?

Meta Knight got into position to pull something else out of nowhere before Bandana Dee called out, “Sir, how are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” asked Kirby, confused.

“Making those objects appear out of air?” Bandana Dee began to feel uncertainty creeping into his bones.

Meta Knight, as he typically did, didn’t respond. However, he turned to face the Waddle Dee. Slowly, so Bandana Dee could see what he was doing, he reached into his cape. His hand disappeared into the dark expanse as though it was submerged in water. From the darkness he drew Kirby’s blade. It was mesmerizing watching the sword slowly appear. Once it was fully out, he tossed it to Kirby. Kirby caught it with ease, casually tilting it back and forth to show off it’s luster.

Bandana Dee couldn’t but whisper a comment. “Amazing.” As though encouraged by the praise, Meta Knight reached back in, this time at a normal speed. Out came another Mr. Sandman. Even knowing what to look for, Bandana Dee could barely tell the items came from his cape.

Meta Knight clapped once to get his attention. He abruptly switched the topic. “Today’s focus will be on throwing your weapon precisely. Same as yesterday. Wait for my signal.” With that, he grabbed the two Mr. Sandmen and flew off to the other side of the arena.

The exercise wasn’t a complicated one. That didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult, all it meant was that the steps were simple. All Bandana Dee had to do was run until he reached the line drawn in the sand, lob his spear, and hope his aim was true. Meta Knight had recently begun to let him train with a real spear. The tip was heavier than the pike used before, but there was little difference beyond that. To his surprise, Bandana Dee never felt overwhelmingly nervous holding the weapon. It felt natural, as though his weapon was a part of him. A part of him that was clumsy and awkward, but a part of him nonetheless. It helped that the activities they did ensured the only person who could be hurt should Bandana Dee make a mistake was himself.

Meta Knight dragged a line in the sand. Each Mr. Sandman was a distance away from one another. Giving a small nod to Kirby before hand, Bandana Dee began to walk away so he could run straight to his Mr. Sandman. His target was half an arena away. He could do this.

“Go!” ordered Meta Knight from his perch on the highest seats. Kirby and Bandana Dee began to run. The part where Bandana Dee consistently messed up was the throw. He was capable of getting good momentum....

...

The spear fell, pathetically clattering in front of the dummy. A sigh escaped him. He needed to make a decision and commit. Maybe next time. He looked over to his side. Kirby had thrown the sword, but missed. His weapon was embedded in the sand. A silent second passed.

Confused, Bandana Dee and Kirby both looked up to Meta Knight. He was staring without seeing, not even looking down to the two of them in the arena. While Meta Knight was prone to long bouts of silence, he usually had some commentary when they made a mistake.

Kirby decided to call out to him. “Meta Knight!”

Meta Knight did not jump. He was too trained to jump. He did snap to attention, however, and looked down to the two of them as though he wasn’t staring into space. “What is it?”

Kirby blinked, confused. “You didn’t say anything about my aim. Is everything alright?”

“I simply thought you didn’t need my guidance with aiming,” Meta Knight replied coldly. “Or committing to your throw.” He tacked on for Bandana Dee.

Kirby didn’t like that answer. Narrowing his eyes, he stared unflinchingly at Meta Knight. Mirroring his expression, Meta Knight stared back. No words were spoken between either of them. The tension was suffocating and Bandana Dee knew that both of them were as relentlessly stubborn as his King. Neither of them would back off on their own terms.

Bandana Dee grabbed Kirby’s hand and whispered to him, “Meta Knight’s worried about something he doesn’t wish to tell us. Let’s leave him to his thoughts, c’mon.”

Hesitantly, Kirby obliged, walking over to pick up his weapon and then return to his starting point. Bandana Dee did as well. To his credit, Meta Knight began to voice his subtle corrections once more. Though, over the course of the practice, he began to be quieter and quieter until he was silent once more. When Kirby looked back to Bandana Dee, Bandana Dee shook his head.

...

The spear soared, gliding far over the Mr. Sandman’s head. With a loud thunk it embedded itself into the wooden wall of the arena, much to Bandana Dee’s horror. How could he have missed that bad? He ran over to the wall to check the damage. It didn’t seem intensive. It looked bad due to the spear sticking out of it, but the damage to the wall seemed to only be a thin crack. He would need to remember to bring stuff to fix the wall next practice. The true problem would be removing the spear without damaging the wall or weapon.

...

Meta Knight drew his blade and swooped to the lower seats, keeping his wings out and splayed to make himself seem all the more taller. “Fine, if you are so insistent upon my attention, draw your blade and face me in battle!” He, in a motion somehow quicker than the other times, produced a real blade from his cape and threw it to the ground. It stabbed straight threw, getting stuck as though the ground itself was as weak as the soft, broken wood Bandana Dee had pierced earlier.

Bandana Dee leaped back out of fear. Kirby leaped back out of stubbornness. “I don’t want to fight!” He yelled, voice half a plea and half a complaint. “I want you to tell me what’s wrong!”

All he could do to brace himself was cover his eyes. Bandana Dee was fully expecting Meta Knight to swoop in, disregarding Kirby’s plea and attacking the currently weaponless Kirby. He didn’t. Instead he lowered his blade and relaxed his wings in a disappointed manner. Bandana Dee, too, lowered his hands. While Meta Knight stared off into space, Bandana Dee made his way over to Kirby. Pouting still, Kirby reached blindly towards Bandana Dee’s hands. They, holding hands as usual, looked up to Meta Knight who had neither put his sword away nor started an assault.

...

A sudden movement abruptly pulled his gaze from his friend to Meta Knight. Galaxia was placed away, however he tensed his wings again. “Bandana Waddle Dee.”

He shot up to attention, “Yes Sir?”

“I need to ask King Dedede a question. Regardless of his answer, I am willing to continue training you.” With that he flew off, gliding over their heads and out of the arena. Kirby, and by extension, Waddle Dee, chased him to the arena entrance. He was long gone by then.

“He never tells me anything,” whined Kirby.

Worried, Bandana Dee turned to Kirby. “What do you think he needs to ask his Majesty about?”

“Who knows?” When he caught sight of Bandana Dee’s stressed face, he eased his tone. “I’m sure it’s nothing too bad.”

“Well, you do know Meta Knight the most, I suppose.” Privately, Bandana Dee still worried. What question could the knight have specifically for his King? One that he could ask neither Kirby nor Bandana Dee about? Or, perhaps, this was just Meta Knight’s nature. “Does he do this often?”

“What? The mysteriously avoiding questions thing?” Bandana Dee nodded, and Kirby nodded right back. “Yeah. Last time he did it, he flew up to the mirror world in the sky because he saw something evil! Then he fought his mirror clone until he lost and got captured in the mirror!

“What?” Asked Bandana Dee, now more worried about evil sky mirrors than the question. It seemed fantastical, especially as Bandana Dee had personally never seen any mirror in the sky, but then again this was Kirby. The mirror seemed more tame than some of the other stuff that Bandana Dee knew his friend faced.

Kirby shrugged. “It’s fine now. I was on a walk and saw them, so I went over to help! I may have been cut in 4, but that’s okay, because I saved Meta Knight and got rid of Dark Mind who corrupted the mirror world!”

“Huh?!”

Kirby shook his head, as if everything he had said was normal. “Don’t worry! There’s a picnic to be had!”

As he was pulled along, Bandana Dee couldn’t help but wonder if Kirby knew he had the same habit of abruptly switching subjects that Meta Knight had.

The picnic spot was Bandana Dee’s favorite place beyond the castle. It was both close enough to the town that they could be there quickly if anything bad happened, and secluded enough that one would have to seek them out if they wanted to bother them. Chef Kawasaki had been generous enough to not only pack their food, he also packed a soft blanket and a pitcher of juice. Kirby and Bandana Dee set up the picnic under the lone tree, mostly Bandana Dee as Kirby was drooling at the idea of food.

...

Bandana Dee heard King Dedede’s booming laugh echo the hallway before he opened the door to the throne room. It was the showy laugh he only did around people who didn’t live with him in the castle, which gave Bandana Dee pause. The King wasn’t laughing with Meta Knight, was he? Mentally, he tried to think of anyone else who the King could be talking to right now. Maybe one of the people he had gone on adventures with? Like Adeline or Ribbon? Or maybe it was one of the townsfolk with a complaint?

Bandana Dee took a peak into the room. King Dedede was talking to someone on the communication screen, which was turned away from Bandana Dee at the moment. Whoever was on the other end was silent as the King talked. King Dedede noticed him and waved him closer. Nervously, Bandana Dee complied, only to find Meta Knight on the other side, with Axe Knight to the side fiddling with controls and Captain Vul in the back having tea.

“Sir Meta Knight?” Asked Bandana Dee as he desperately looked between the Knight on the Screen and his King, hoping one of the two would explain.

“Hello,” greeted Meta Knight in his typical, short fashion.

King Dedede laughed as he patted Bandana Dee’s head. “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing! We’ll be ready for you and your subordinates.”

Meta Knight nodded. “Very well. We will arrive before nightfall.” Without a goodbye, Meta Knight clicked off the communication. The screen cackled in static for a second before the Waddle Dee who brought the communication device over turned it off and began to carry it away.

Bandana Dee already had an idea from the talk about preparing rooms and arriving by nightfall, however he still turned to King Dedede for confirmation. “Your Majesty, why was Meta Knight calling?”

“Oh, y’know.” King Dedede stood up and stretched. “He and the rest of the Meta-Knights need a place to stay after the Halberd crash, so they are coming over here.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, you heard him. He’ll be here by nightfall.”

Bandana Dee stared at King Dedede. He wasn’t lying. Okay. Okay. There were 8 members of the Meta-Knights besides Meta Knight. They had 10 rooms that were close together on the third floor that could be readied within an hour at most, along with a spare kitchen and another room which could be converted to a sort of lounge area.

“Meta Knight would prefer that big room on the fourth floor.”

Bandana Dee looked up to his King, whom had spoken, in confusion. “But, Sire, we don’t have enough free rooms on the fourth floor for all of his crew.” Unless, of course, they put the Meta-Knights in a barracks, but that was unaccommodating.

“Yeah, I know.” King Dedede began to leave the room, so Bandana Dee followed behind. “Just give him the big room and put the rest of them on the third floor.”

“Would he like such a thing? Being a distance from his crew?”

“I think he needs a break from that lot sometimes.” King Dedede let out a chuckle. “We can just ask him when he gets here.” Bandana Dee nodded and made a mental note to ask Meta Knight. In the mean time, he would make preparations for the large room on the fourth floor, the set of rooms on the third floor and-

“What of dinner, Great King? How much do they eat? Have they any food restrictions? Will they be okay with the roast we are preparing for tonight, or do we need a new menu?”

“Hmm, quadruple the food and quintuple the desert!”

Bandana Dee pouted. “My King, I doubt they have that large an appetite.”

King Dedede rolled his eyes. “Then don’t ask me. Meta Knight didn’t tell me anything about any of that stuff.” They had arrived at the King’s bedroom. King Dedede entered with purpose, heading straight to his closet. Bandana Dee followed behind, uncertain. Should he tell the chefs to double the meal servings? Would that be enough? Or maybe triple it? Would that be too much? Should he add an abundance of appetizers, so as to minimize the chances of the Meta-Knights being unable to eat the food? Should he give orders to try to avoid common allergens and cross contamination, even if it would greatly slow food production?

King Dedede grabbed a telescope. It looked like it had been part of a pirate’s costume at some point, however as childish as it looked it was a powerful telescope with an impressive zoom. It had been what King Dedede had came in the room for, apparently, as he swiftly left with Bandana Dee right behind.

“For how long are they staying?”

With a noncommittal shrug, King Dedede kept marching on. “He said something about until his ship is hospitable.” That was a rather wide timeframe. Bandana Dee was unsure if they even brought the Halberd out from the ocean yet, how rare the parts for it were to find, and what the minimum livable hospitable level was too someone like Meta Knight.

Bandana Dee stopped when they neared the throne room. “My King?” King Dedede looked over his shoulder. “Is there anything else I should prepare? Any events or the like?”

King Dedede put a finger to his chin and hummed. “Y’know what? Prepare the lounge for board games. And Chess! I wanna see the look on that Meta Knights face when I destroy him.”

Bandana Dee bowed. “Of course, Sire.” Hurriedly, excited for Meta Knight’s arrival, King Dedede dashed off, telescope in hand.

A sigh escaped him. He let his tense body relax. There was no time for anxious thoughts, no time for doubts. There was only time for action.

Bandana Dee turned to the closest Waddle Dee, a guard Waddle Dee. “Waddle Dee, please send word for everyone except the King and those asleep to meet in the throne room in fifteen minutes.” The Waddle Dee saluted and ran to relay the message. It would spread by word of mouth throughout the castle. Swiftly, Bandana Dee entered the throne room to wait and plan out his exact orders.

Fifteen minutes later, a hoard of Waddle Dees stood in the throne room, awaiting Bandana Waddle Dees orders. He watched as one last Waddle Dee hurriedly entered, waited for them to get in their place, and then spoke.

“Sir Meta Knight, the honorable swordsman, and his loyal crew, the Meta-Knights, are planning on a stay in the castle. They shall arrive by nightfall, and stay for however long they need.”

Bandana Dee paused as the room erupted in excited chatter. It had been a while since they had guests of any type, and longer since they had anyone as notable as Meta Knight and his crew. After a moment, Bandana Dee cleared his throat, and the room was silent once again.

“For the cooks, please triple the servings of dinner tonight. You are dismissed so as to begin immediately.” A group of Waddle Dees ran from the room, heading to the kitchen. Was that the right decision? There was no time to backtrack.

“For the rest of us,” Bandana Dee clapped his hands, once. “We have work to do.”

The groups were quickly decided and given orders. 3 Waddle Dees per third floor bedroom. A larger group worked on the Kitchen and Lounge. A few Waddle Dees were sent to insure board games and chess boards would be available and ready to play at a moments notice. Some were sent to clean the hallways and stair well, some sent to shine the windows, some to launder the curtains, some to set up any amenities that needed to be. The only job Bandana Dee didn’t give out was preparing the fourth-floor bedroom. If he was confident in any thing, it was in his speed at cleaning a large area.

In a mere half hour, he had the fourth-floor bedroom dust free, with fresh linens on the bed. The wine-red curtains were drawn and windows open to let in the afternoon sun. The vanity, which doubled as a desk, was stocked full of papers, pens and envelopes in case Meta Knight needed to send a letter. The closet was kept clean and empty, ready for anything Meta Knight may bring; however, it also kept an extra weapon cleaning kit in the case any of his crew needed it. The bathroom was scrubbed, clean, and various soaps were placed throughout. It looked ready, hopefully.

Bandana Dee paused as he was pruning some of the plants that grew off the balcony. This was enough, right? But, what if? What if there was something he was forgetting? He looked back into the room. The carpet was plush and clean. The door handle was shined and rid of rust. The chandelier was free from cobwebs.

Snip! Bandana Dee scrambled as he accidentally beheaded one of the purple flowers. He was too distracted now. Gingerly, he plucked the flower off the ground and held it safely as he swept up the rest of the debris. He should just ask the Great King if there was anything else Meta Knight specified or asked for, like a place to store weapons or the like.

...

“Sire?”

“If this is another worry about Meta Knight, it better be the last one.”

“Why do you think Sir Meta Knight asked to stay here? It’s a surprising request, given the circumstances.”

“Probably has to do with his crew.”

Bandana Dee turned to King Dedede in surprise. He still looked bored, resting on his arm as he stared where the flower had disappeared. He continued with the thought, as though it was a simple conclusion to draw. “Well, he hasn’t been living in the village. Nobody there can keep a secret, they’d brag to anyone and everyone if Meta Knight was staying with them.”

Bandana Dee nodded. This was true, secrets in town rarely remained secrets. It was one of the reasons he tended to avoid the town when with Kirby.

King Dedede idly fixed his headpiece. “And there is no other settlement in walking range of the village. Yet, Meta Knight has somehow remained in the village area.” Yes, that was true, but Meta Knight could fly at incredible speeds. If he hadn’t known the rest of the crew, who were mostly flightless, were likely in a walking range of the village, he would question the King. Bandana Dee nodded.

“So that means they either fished out the Halberd and are living in that hunk of junk.” King Dedede paused in his talking to put the telescope to his eye again, looking over the path. “Or, they out there camping in the woods.”

“That makes sense to me, but that doesn’t explain why here, and why your Majesty believes it was his crew that asked.”

King Dedede made a move to answer and accidentally interrupted himself with a short laugh. “Well, I don’t know why here, but I will bet that it was Captain Vul who complained.”

“Sire!” Bandana Dee scolded.

“Gah! I can’t live like this!” Squawked King Dedede, imitating Captain Vul. “I need my beauty sleep!”

“That’s mean!” Bandana Dee scolded again, but it was hard to keep his voice stern. Giggles escaped despite covering his face.

King Dedede grinned triumphantly, “fine, fine. You got an idea?”

“Huh?”

“C’mon, Bandee! An idea about why Meta Knight wanted to stay here!”

“Um, well.” Bandana Dee stalled. Why indeed? “There aren’t many buildings large enough near here to accommodate so many people. Maybe Meta Knight didn’t want his crew separated?”

“Then why wouldn’t he just stay wherever he has been staying?”

Bandana Dee looked towards the forest in thought. A breeze blew through, shaking the trees, and Bandana could faintly hear them rustle like maracas. “Maybe, Meta Knight did it for his crew? They didn’t want to complain to him, but he noticed them being uncomfortable, and chose us because it was the best place?”

“Maybe,” answered King Dedede.

“Maybe, agreed Bandana Dee.

...

“So we can better prepare the food, do you know how much food you and the rest of the Meta-Knights eat per meal? Or any food preferences or accommodations?”

“Sorry, I wouldn’t know. That’s more Javelin’s thing. You should ask them. They’re the red one who flies about. Wish I could help more.”

“Oh, don’t worry, knowing who to ask is a big help!”

Sailor Dee scrunched his face in thought. “If it helps any, I can tell you that we like fresh fruits and a variety of teas.”

“Fresh fruits? Peaches, apples, pears and the like?”

Sailor Dee nodded. “Fresh fruit never lasts long enough on our journeys. And for the tea, we find lots of weird teas on other planets. It makes teatime more fun when we don’t know if the tea will be as spicier than superspicy curry.”

That did not sound fun. That sounded like torture! But Sailor seemed fine with it and Kirby was excited by the prospect. Bandana Dee decided he would chock this up to a cultural difference and see if anyone carried an odd sounding or tasting tea that could be ordered.

...

Even though he should have expected the doors to open, Bandana Dee still felt surprise run through him when they moved. In poured a blinding light, followed by Meta Knight. His presence felt larger than his stature. Between his smooth glide and piercing gaze, Bandana Dee nearly forgot about the Meta Knight who patiently taught Bandana Dee and Kirby in the arena. Captain Vul walked proudly behind Meta Knight at his right side. Sword and Blade came next, with stiff posture and a hand resting on their respective hilts. Behind them, barely visible because of those in front, the rest of the Meta-knights followed. Bandana Dee shivered. He resisted the urge to hid behind the throne, if only because he knew he would have to crawl from behind it eventually.

Kirby was apparently not as in awe in them as Bandana Dee was. “Hi, Meta Knight!” Lurching forward, Bandana Dee only had a moment to realize he was being pulled by Kirby before they ran across the throne room. Kirby launched himself towards Meta Knight, pressing his cheek against his mask, while refusing to release Bandana Dee. This was the closest he had been to the knight’s face. His mask had scratches all across it which was highlighted whenever Bandana Dees breath fogged the mask. Kirby was still hugging Meta Knight, who did not make any movement.”

Well, he was already here. Nothing could change that. “Hello, sir Meta Knight,” whispered Bandana Dee.

From here, Bandana Dee could hear a slight hum from Meta Knight before he responded. “Hello, Kirby, Bandana Waddle Dee.” His gloved hand emerged from behind his cape as he tapped Kirby twice. Kirby withdrew, though remained close while still holding Bandana Dee’s hand. During the hug Sailor Dee had wandered over, taking his place in the formation by Captain Vul’s side. It was no longer a rigid formation, as the Meta-knights had gathered around to stare at Kirby and Bandana Dee. How embarrassing.

Kirby’s hand slipped from his own as he was raised up. Miffed, King Dedede had marched over and was now holding Kirby in the air. Kirby didn’t look to be in pain, but still wiggled his limbs in an attempt to be released. “Oi! Didn’t I say to wait near the throne!?”

“I did!” Protested Kirby. “And then Meta Knight came in so I hugged him!”

“And greetings to you, King Dedede.” Meta Knight eyed Kirby in King Dedede’s grasp. It seemed as through he too was making sure Kirby was uninjured.

“Welcome to Castle Dedede, Meta Knight.”

Kirby was dropped, bounced with a giggle, then landed on his feet. “Now that Meta Knight is here we can start the sleepover! We’ll List of what Bandee said.” Bandana Dee grabbed Kirby’s hand and tugged, like that would calm him down.

“Eh? Marshmallows?” King Dedede loudly guffawed. “You are thinking too small! Hotdogs!”

“You’re thinking too small! Steaks!”

To Bandana Dee’s horror, King Dedede and Kirby began to argue about hypothetical food to roast over a hypothetical fire and quickly began to ignore what would realistically be good over a fire for whatever food they were craving at the moment. The Meta-knights still stared.

“Our apologies.” Bandana Dee gave a small bow to their guests before tugging on King Dedede’s robe. He loomed above him. “If you would follow us, we would love to escort you to the rooms we have prepared.”

...

It was times like these that Bandana Dee wished he was cantankerous. He would snap and throw a large fit until he got his way, which was to go back into his thick, fuzzy blankets. But no. Bandana Dee was polite through and through and, despite the intrusive thoughts, he only gave an exhausted look to King Dedede.

...

He saw Meta Knight’s stance change minutely, training sword lowered slightly, before his vision blurred. Oh why now?

“I’m sorry.” Bandana Dee sniffled and wiped the tears out of his eyes. “I cry too easily. I’m only a little frustrated.”

Meta Knight remained still, his training sword now pointing to the ground. He raised one hand, hesitated like he said not to do, then reached out and offered an unsure head pat.

“There, there?” He sounded so uncertain. That uncomfortable uncertainty was so out of place on Meta Knight that nervous laughter bubbled within Bandana Dee.

With a breath to calm himself, Bandana Dee gently wiped away his tears again and blinked. “My apologies, I believe I need a moment.”

Meta Knight wrapped himself with his cloak. “By all means.”

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