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archaxwii · 4 years ago

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Through Diamond and Flesh

Warnings: This fic involves safe, soft, consensual, non-sexual vore, as well as g/t content.

This is just a silly Skeppy and Bad vore fic, I wrote it like a week ago but what better time to post it than now? Also Skeppy and Bad's relationship con be interpreted as romantic or platonic as you want. This is a little outdated now as of the last lore stream but we’ll just say this takes place in a world where everyone on the SMP makes it out safe and alive. (Also I’m a bit rusty so apologies if the writing or dialogue isn’t great)

—

Skeppy and Bad have been friends for several years now. They had grown very fond of each other in that time. Especially after a...certain incident with an egg and maybe getting possessed and Skeppy nearly dying to said egg...multiple times...However, that was a couple years ago, the egg was gone and the duo had been saved. It had taken a lot of time (and therapy) but they were now closer than ever before.

Sometimes Skeppy thought maybe too close.

Now, Bad and Skeppy had grown up very differently. Skeppy was a diamond golem, he didn't exactly have parents he had a creator, who had basically left him alone to his own devices, which is why he had come to the smp.

Bad, however, was a demon from the Nether. He had actual parents, who had raised him and loved him until he was old enough to decide to move to the Overworld.

They talked a lot about how they'd grown up, and there were a lot of things Skeppy found weird about how Bad's parents raised him, but there was one thing in particular that he kept getting stuck on.

"I still don't understand how you don't think it's weird your parents used to eat you as a kid." Skeppy said, exasperated.

Bad groaned, waving his arms around." I don't get why it weirds you out so much, it's honestly not that big of a deal!" He protested.

" Besides...I don't remember it being that bad." He mumbled, looking away with embarrassment.

Skeppy shook his head." You're such a weirdo." He said giving Bad a light shove.

Bad huffed, immediately shoving him back." Maybe I am, but I honestly don't think it was as bad as you're making it out to be." He paused, and turned to Skeppy with a cheeky grin." You know, I could show you what it was like?” He offered.

Skeppy actually, physically jumped back." What?! Are you crazy?!" He shouted." No, I don't wanna be eaten, how would that even work that's not even physically possible!" He really shouldn't have said that, because that just opened the gateway for Bad.

Bad crossed his arms." No, I'm not "crazy". And really, it's not that big of a stretch, I'm sure that at my full height I'd be able to do it." He reasoned.

He really, really hated that that was probably true.

Bad is a size shifter, with four different sizes he could choose from, and at his tallest he was somewhere around 15 feet. Probably definitely able to eat someone.

Skeppy shook his head." I think you might be forgetting one important detail here, Bad, I WILL DIE IF YOU EAT ME." Despite being almost 3 feet taller than him, Bad still winced from the loud noise.

"What makes you say that?" He had the audacity to sound genuinely confused.

Skeppy flung his hands in the air." Uhh, I don't know, maybe because things get digested in burning acid when they're eaten?!" He cried with less vigor, but still sounding upset.

Bad stared at Skeppy with an seriously embarrassing amount of confusion. After a few seconds it finally seemed to click." Ohh, no no no, Skeppy, that's not how it works. Did I never give you a lesson on demon anatomy?" No, he hadn't, and Skeppy was kind of hoping to keep it that way.

"See, demons like me have two stomachs," he pointed at an area slightly higher than where a normal stomach would be," this one is for storage purposes, it doesn't have any digestive fluids or anything like that. Everything I eat has to go through there before I manually send it into this stomach," he pointed a little lower," That one does actually digest all my food and stuff." He explained.

He gave Skeppy an odd look." How did you think my parents were able to...eat me?" He asked.

Skeppy sighed, not making eye contact." I dunno man, I just thought it happened with some weird demon magic or whatever." So it was actually possible for Bad to eat him, and for him to be completely safe.

" I don't know Bad, this is still really freaking weird, I don't think I wanna do this." He said uncomfortably.

Bad sighed, a bit dejected." Ok, Skeppy, I won't make you do it if you don't want to. I just wanted to explain why I wanted to do it." Why did he sound sad?

Skeppy tilted his head." Why, exactly, do you want to do it? I still don't see what's enjoyable about it." He asked genuinely.

Bad scratched the back of his head, looking awkward." I- I don't know. I just remember it feeling very nice. Even as a demon the Nether is still a scary place, I felt...safe whenever they did it. It was just...nice and warm. Like nothing could hurt me." He admitted quietly.

Skeppy gave him a soft smile." It sounds like you wanna get eaten more than I do." He joked lightly.

Bad brightened, giving him a wide grin." Oh my gosh, would you eat me, Skeppy?" He asked hopefully, tail wagging like an oversized dog.

Skeppy very quickly shook his head." What?! No way, dude! That would definitely kill you!" He yelped.

Bad grabbed his hands, linking them together." Not necessarily! I think I have some potions that can make me immune to acid!” He explained excitedly.

Skeppy gave him a skeptical look." You just have those lying around, huh?" He deadpanned.

If Bad were human, he probably would have blushed." Well-I, you see-... shut up." He sputtered." Look, will you actually do it now?"

He bent his knees to look Skeppy in the eyes.

Despite the fact that Bad was a 9'6 demon, it was still impossible for him to not give into the puppy dog eyes.

He hesitated for several seconds, and took a deep breath.

"Show me what to do."

—

Well, here he was. With a tiny, potioned up Bad in the palm of his hand.

"Are you ready, Skeppy?" Bad asked gently. He was willing to go as slowly as possible for Skeppy's comfort, even if he was incredibly eager. Especially since he'd taken off his robes in exchange for an easier T shirt and shorts, making him much colder.

Skeppy shifted nervously." I don't know what to do." He admitted.

Bad tilted his head." Do you wanna let me inside your mouth?" He asked calmly.

Skeppy's anxiety skyrocketed, but he tried not to let it show. He delicately brought Bad closer to his mouth. He really didn't wanna do this.

Bad smiled calmly, sensing his nervousness." Would you like me to just climb in myself? So you don't feel like I'm being forced?" Skeppy nodded and wordlessly opened his mouth.

He slowly climbed in, trying not to startle Skeppy too much. He very patiently sat on his friends tongue. It sadly wasn't as warm as he'd like, but it was better than outside.

"Now, I know this may sound weird, but I need you to lick me, like, a lot." He guided.

Skeppy whined, and Bad reassured him that he was fine and ok with it.

Skeppy reluctantly obliged and began running his tongue across the demon, coating him in a thick layer of saliva. He had a very smoke-y taste to him, which made sense seeing as he was from the Nether. Eventually Bad told him he'd done enough and, to Skeppy's dismay, moved closer to his throat.

"I'm ready when you are, Skeppy." He shuddered, Bad was putting his complete trust and faith into him. He was willing and excited to let Skeppy eat him. He didn’t want to let his best friend down.

He tilted his head back, swallowing thickly. He tried not to panic over the unusually large lump that was traveling down his throat. It was such a weird sensation, yet to his surprise it wasn’t as horrible as he thought it would be. He swallowed a few more times, and eventually the warm weight that was his best friend settled into his belly.

Immediately he began asking," Are you ok? I didn't hurt you did I?"

Bad didn't respond for a few moments and Skeppy now had to deal with the startling sensation of something moving in his stomach, as Bad pawed around like he was trying to get his bearings.

Finally, he responded." Yes, Skeppy, I'm ok. That was a little disorienting but I'm perfectly fine." He paused for a moment." Are you ok?" He inquired.

He wasn’t sure how to answer, he was still processing that he’d just eaten his best friend alive.

He pressed a hand against his stomach, feeling where Bad was. He felt a bit of shuffling and soon a hand was pressed against the inside as well. Bad was...safe...inside him. Skeppy was now the sole protector of him. Protected by layers of flesh and diamond, no one could hurt him. Now he was beginning to understand why Bad wanted to do this so desperately. He wanted to be able to protect his best friend like this all the time, and he was certain that's how Bad felt as well.

"I think I'm ok, actually..." He said softly, gently rubbing circles against Bad's form.

Bad was quite happy about his current situation. The walls around him were very soft and, if it weren't for the layers of slime he was coated in, felt almost like a bed. He didn't have much room to move but he didn't feel like he was being suffocated. It wasn't as warm as he'd like (aka as warm as sitting in a fire) but it was warm, and that was very pleasant. He could hear the gurgles and growls of the organs surrounding him, as well as the gradually steadier heartbeat and whoosh of Skeppy's lungs as he began calming down. Loud, but not too intrusive.

The best thing about it, though, was that he hasn't felt this safe in a long, long time.

Ever since his time with The Egg he had become a very paranoid and closed off person. He was afraid of talking to the other members of the server, either out of fear that they still harbored some hatred for what he'd done, or that they would be corrupted as well. Even though he knew that The Egg was gone now it had woven itself very deep into his brain, and a small part of him still believed that one day it would erupt from the earth and devour the world with its vines.

Bad harshly shook his head. He wouldn't let thoughts about The Egg get to him. That was for Puffy’s therapy office, not for here.

Truthfully, though, he hadn't really felt safe since the day he'd stepped out of the Nether portal for the first time. Far from his family, his home. Not even being with Skeppy had made him feel as safe as he did now.

But now, he was at the very core of his best friend. Nothing could hurt him. He was safe, and he was with Skeppy, he couldn't ask for anything better.

He grinned a little to himself, giving the wall he was leaned against a little pat." I told you it wasn't as bad as you thought it'd be." He said only a little smugly.

Skeppy sighed with faux frustration." I will admit, I didn't expect it to feel...like this." He laid down on his bed, placing a hand on his stomach.

“ I guess it's not that bad." He said, rubbing small circles where he could feel Bad's form.

Bad grinned a little, beginning to rub circles with both of his hands against the walls of Skeppy's stomach.

Skeppy practically melted into his bed at that point. He'd definitely never felt anything like that before, it made him feel very warm and content.

They stayed like that for a couple more minutes but he was starting to get tired, and he knew Bad must be tired as well.

"Are you gonna be ok if I leave you in there? Will you be safe?" He questioned softly.

Bad nodded out of habit despite the fact that Skeppy couldn't see." It'll be fine, the potion’s got a long time before it wears off," he paused,"...I kinda planned for this." He said with only slight embarrassment.

Skeppy lightly chuckled, he would have to remember to tease him about that in the morning but for now he was too tired, instead just settling on giving his belly a light pat.

They both drowsily exchanged their good nights before slowly dozing off together, finally feeling safe and content at last.

#tw vore #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #soft vore #g/t Bad #g/t Skeppy #ember's writing #If people like this I might try to write one where the roles are reversed #Not gonna make promises though

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physicalturian · 4 years ago

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[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 6

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 6246 Archive of our own

Warning : Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control / Stranger / Flirting / Fluff / Awkwardness / Mirrors / Anxiety … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

There was a short silence, I let out a nervous chuckle before going for random sounds leaving my mouth as I tried to pick up my dignity off the floor. When I was about to cover up, Law hummed. “I’d say the neck, but it all depends on the situation…” He looked at me from the corner of his eyes and smirked, “Faces are very expressive and help understand what the person’s thinking about. But, so does the whole body language.” Drumming his fingers over the wheel, he made a pondering face and smirked as he continued.

“But the neck, very sensitive. Very fragile, and yet it has one of the most important roles. Protecting all those nerves, to send the information to the brain- to let one have access to the neck is to let yourself be vulnerable…” I listened to him intently, no knowing if it was hot or slightly threatening but which ever it was, it made me very aware of my neck and I had hard time not moving my hand there.

Lightening the mood, he chuckled and asked me what mine was. “Oh, hm… I never really gave it a thought…” I lied, of course. I knew very well that the entire human body had so much appeal, but I also knew my preferences. Still, I was not going to answer that quickly to him, I had to make it look like I was giving it a thought. When it seemed appropriate, I answered, “Probably hands. Just like the body language, it says a lot about the person.” And it’s fucking hot. “If the person takes care of them, if they’re more into manual work, if they have bad habits… scars… The tattoos also…” I trailed off, biting the inside of my cheek in apprehension of what he’d say.

With a scoff, I heard him softly ask. “And do tell me, what do my hands tell you?” I tried to think, but I was simply thinking they were pretty, and he was hot. So, I gave it a deeper thought, then opted for more of a flirty approach. I could fix that weird question, make it worth it, right?

“I can barely see them from here, I’d have to get a closer look.” While I said it in a flirty manner, I tried to coat it with a bit of humor, just to give myself a chance to escape. Chuckling, he did not answer. Instead, he pulled up in my street before parking and maneuvering now to not do it when leaving. When we stopped moving, I was going to leave quickly to not die of embarrassment from his lack of response but couldn’t with all the food and drinks on my lap. “Are you in a rush?” He asked with a smug smile as he took his things from lap after unbuckling his seat belt.

Giving him a side glance, I realized how close his face was from mine and couldn’t help but glance at his lips before forcing myself to lean back and open the car door. “Well I am hungry-“ I swore under by breath when I felt a pull from the belt when I leaned forward to leave, it was quickly released after I heard the unclasping. Law had done it for me, surprising me at the same time. Almost falling forward, I held onto the car door for a sec before stepping outside.

I could hear his laugh echo when he left the car, and slammed the door shut, making sure to lock it. “Do you want me to hold your things while you take your keys-“ He stopped mid-sentence when he felt my bag nudge his side, “Take them, they’re in the back pocket. I would have done it myself, but you’ve bought me quite a lot, so it’s on you.” He made a confused sound and asked me if I was sure.

“Are you scared you’ll find drugs? Or is it maybe pads and tampons that’d be the problem?” He was going to reply, but I continued, “There’s none of that, I think there are biscuits wrappers at best. And my wallet,” I shrugged before trying to nod his way, over my shoulder. “Give me your food, I’ll hold it while you open my bag.”

“Your hands are full-“ He said, but I interrupted him, “My mouth isn’t, come on give me your stuff.” I closed my mouth for a second, taking in what I had said before feeling my face heat up. I shook my head as I sighed, hoping he’d ignore it, but as he handed me his small bag with probably pastries in it, he spoke. “I was going to say something,” He started, giving me his pack that I held between my teeth. It was almost weightless. “But you’re clearly doing such a good job at embarrassing yourself, I don’t think it’s necessary.”

With the paper bag still in mouth, I spoke through my teeth, “Fuck you, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

He looked over his shoulder and quirked a brow before replying, “Do I? You’ve been pretty insistent on sharing how hot you think I am, I can almost imagine how bad you want to fuck me.” After unlocking the building, he grabbed the paper bag from my mouth and grinned in a cocky way. It made me want to slap him across the face, but also take him against the wall, maybe the latter more than the other one. But I did none of those and simply huffed.

“I think you’re the one who’s whipped, you did stalk me through my friends to bring me food.” I said over my shoulder, stopping in front of the elevator and using my elbow to push the button.

The man hummed as if considering what I had said, then gave me a look I couldn’t describe. It seemed intense, but not sultry, maybe even confused, lost. “As I said, I am familiar with studying for a long period of time. It’s a boost, moral support. So, don’t be ungrateful like that, you sound like a brat.” It seemed I had ticked him off by saying that, I could see it by the frown decorating his forehead.

But that frown was also accompanied but a delicate blush. I did not argue back, instead we stepped inside the elevator silently. Did I keep that silence? No. I could have kept the drowning, deafening silence that surrounded us, but I did not want him to feel uncomfortable. That is the reason I gave myself to talk more.

“You’re right, thank you for the food and the company. How much do I owe you?”

Looking down at me, his frown dissipated as a small smile drew itself on his lips. “Do you ever accept gifts without questioning?” He scoffed before adding I didn’t owe him anything. I was going to speak up when he did, at the same time and I let him. “I have a better idea; you know what would make my day?” I believe it was rhetorical, but as we left the elevator, I answered jokingly. “Your day has been made since the moment you saw me.”

He did not lose any time and replied with a smirk, “And yours, since I called you this morning, but who’s keeping track?”

A loud cackle left my mouth, it wasn’t elegant in any way. I had not expected him to be funny like that, though maybe he was just catching me by surprise more than being actually funny. I wasn’t sure yet, but there was this bubbly feeling my guts that assured me he was not a bad guy. “I’m not going to lie, it wasn’t not-enjoyable. But do tell me, what would make your day?” I asked before gesturing for him to open the door, telling him which key it was. I held his paper bag between my teeth once more, as he opened it before he grabbed it from me.

“If you admitted you want to see me in my hospital coat-“

I cut him off once I had put everything on the dining table, and freed his hands, “At best, a hospital gown to see that ass, but I am never admitting having a ‘doctor kink’, alright?” With everything laid on the table, I turned around to look at him and made a grimace, “Actually I take it back, this is just a nice get together, I swear I don’t want to see your ass that desperately, ok? Take a seat, doc.” I blurted out, realizing what I had said was more something I’d say jokingly. But I meant some of it, I did want to see him in his full glory.

This time, he did not make any witty comeback. Instead, he took a good look at me a moment, then grabbed my chin and turned it a bit before sliding his finger right under my jaw. He was checking my pulse, then said, “How about you take a deep breath and relax? You said it yourself, it’s just a nice get together, I’ll even sit at the opposite of you if I make you that nervous.” He suggested as he let go of me and pulled up a chair to sit on.

“No, no, don’t-“ I pulled up the one right next to him, maybe even scooting it a bit closer to him, our knees touching. My face was warming up slowly, remembering the interaction that happened seconds ago. “I’ll be honest, and you guessed it, I’m slightly nervous but maybe it’s because I’m into you. Not desperate, but you’re clearly a sight for sore eyes and you’re funny. You keep me on my toes, it’s fun.”

I did not expect him to react like that, but the man in front of me seemed to have been flustered for a moment. He tried to hide it by focusing his gaze on the paper bag in front of him as he opened it to grab its content. “You make it so easy for me to make innuendos, but I’ll let you have your wholesome moment.”

Nudging his knee with mine, I huffed and started checking all the food he had bought. While doing so, he continued talking, getting my attention by bumping his foot against mine. “I think there’s still something you need to tell me,” He started, earning a panicked look from me while I slowly put the food down, gulping. “Do I? I mean, fire way,”

Delicately, he leaned on his hand, resting his elbow on the table, and grinned. “What do my hands tell you about me?” I never sighed so loudly, hoping he had dropped the topic. But he seemed keen on knowing that, or maybe simply tease me for saying I preferred hands. “First things first, you gotta stop teasing me about the hands- You said neck! And maybe it was a bit hot, but also threatening, you gave it a thought and a deep one at that.” When I was done, I placed my hand, palm up, on the table and made a grabbing motion. “Come on, give me your hand, let me take a look.”

When he did, I realized how big his hands were but also how slender his fingers were. I could see it without needing them so close, but now that I took a good look… The thought of wearing it as a necklace crossed my mind, I ignored it. I then started observing his hand, turning it delicately in mine, brushing my thumb over some spots. “You have a little bump on your ring finger, so you either write a lot or draw,” I hummed a moment, “Your nails are probably cut so short for practicality, since you probably have to wear gloves and stuff…”

“The tattoos, they confuse me. Maybe you were a bit of a rebel when you were younger, because clearly they’re not professional-“ I looked up at him with an apologetic look, hoping I hadn’t offended him, “But it’s pretty! I’m not judging, just-“ He huffed a laugh and tried to grab my hand gently, only for me to keep holding it as if it was the most precious thing I had seen. “I was indeed very shitty when I was younger.”

Grinning mischievously, I jabbed, “Because that has changed? You still seem like a little shit to me,” Then I breathed out with a smile, “I’m not done though, your hands are slightly calloused but not a lot, so maybe you go to the gym or one of your hobby is more manual?” It was a rhetorical question, but he hummed to tell me to continue. I ate a bit and continued, “Also they are some very faint tan lines on your fingers…” Seemingly amazed, a smile drew itself on the corner of my mouth, “Do you wear rings? I mean, it’s faint, I can barely see it so maybe I’m wrong-“

“I can’t really wear them when I work, but yes. Sometimes I do wear them, I believe you also noticed I wore earrings. Couldn’t get your eyes off those last night, could you?” It was my cue to let go of his hand and fully face the food in front of me instead of the beautiful, arrogant, man next to me. It made him laugh when I groaned and told him to eat in peace. Showing me his empty paper bag, he said, “I’m done, you’re the one who’s been distracted, dear.”

“Right, then if you’re done, let me eat.” Glancing his way, he was staring right back at me with a smug smile, I made it my sole goal to avoid his gaze but after a moment he spoke up, “If you’re into me, you’ll have to look at me more than that, you know.” I almost choked on my food as I turned my head slowly towards him, “If you’re going to use everything I say, against me…” I trailed off and smirked, but rapidly discontinued my idea, “I was going to flirt back and say your name, you know… because you’ll use it against me and- but! I’m genuinely too tired for that- You know you’re exhausting?”

He threw his head back and let out the prettiest laugh I’ve ever heard, while running his hands through his hair. “You really do say whatever crosses your mind, it’s endearing.” He grinned and crossed his arms over the table leaning forward, this time. It was like he was emphasizing that he was listening intently. “I’ll stop flirting for today if you’d like, do tell me more about yourself,” he then said my name in a low tone.

“You start, I’m still eating Law- I thought you cared about my health and here you are, distracting me.” My tone was falsely dramatic, yet Law seemed taken aback, if not embarrassed, for a second. His gaze fleeting to the side before he leaned back on his chair and crossed his legs. “What would you like to know?” He grumbled, a hand moving to fidget with his earring, but since he wasn’t wearing any, he moved it back to his chest.

“Well… you said you were a little shit when you were younger so… How does one go from troublemaker to doctor?” I resumed eating after asking him, there was a clear change in his attitude. His relaxed demeanor seemed to have suddenly tensed, but he hid it and huffed a laugh. “I studied. You know it does require a lot of years to become a doctor-“ he stopped mid-way through his sentence when he saw the look I was giving him. A deadpanned look, to tell him to not fuck around, I knew full well the number of years it took, and that was not my question.

Sucking his teeth in, he sighed. “It’s not a fun story, but I’ll tell you about it one day,“ Interrupting him, I apologized, “Sorry, then how about I go entirely off topic? Here,” Pushing the paper bags away from me, I smiled at him kindly, “What’s your favourite book genre? If you read any, that is,” An almost-shy laugh escaped his lips and just like that he started talking about a certain comic series he was fan of. I listened intently as he passionately talked about, I would sometimes interrupt him to ask a few questions when I’d get confused and he’d clear things up.

He had the most adorable look on his face the more he talked about it, almost like it was the first time someone let him rant about it. After a moment, we started talking about other things we each liked when we were younger. I learnt that he wanted to become a doctor since he was very young. He did not elaborate on the topic much, except that he would always try to sneak inside his parents’ consultation room to see what was going on.

It’s only after a few attempts that his dad chose to give him books to read and focus on, instead of putting all his energy into trying to break inside the consultation room. That’s when little Law found his interest in medicine, at least part of it. There was an untold reason he had yet to share, but I was not going to prod. “You were pretty determined; I’d even say you were cute, but you were probably a demon.” Was what I said to him when he mentioned that short story.

As if on cue, he smirked and started, “I am still pretty determined, I always get what I want,“ I completely ignored is start at a flirtatious exchange and said, “Good, then work for it, I think we were having a very nice conversation here, my turn to talk about my past ok?” Then I resumed after he said to go on, and that he was very intrigued on what kind of kid I was.

I told him the reason why I chose the studies I did, even mentioned my family, how I was raised and what I wanted to become when I was a child. Since it was only the first ‘date’ I had with the man, and maybe I was getting ahead of myself, I tried to keep off the more serious topics: the ones that needed more trust before being shared. The conversation still went on smoothly.

I always liked listening to people’s story, so it felt weird when this time someone was listening to mine with as much interest as I did. When he kept asking questions, not nosy ones, or giving short but nice comments, I’d stutter. I’d feel my pulse quicken every time but ignored it. After all, he wasn’t going anything special, he was simply… invested.

“Oh, I forgot the most important question, pardner. Are you ready?” He nodded, smiling behind the hand on which he was resting his chin. “It’ll say a lot about who you are, don’t know if you’re ready to bare yourself like that yet-“ “Just ask the question, I won’t answer if I don’t want to.”

Placing my hands in front of me in a faux-defensive manner, perhaps even in a calming manner, I whispered “Easy there, cowboy” to which, Law rolled his eyes, asking me wordlessly to go on.

“Right, do you have any pets?”

There was a silence. He moved his hands from his lips to his cheeks, his eyes riveted on mine, not looking away. “That’s your one-million-dollar question?” He breathed out, his smile betraying his annoyance that was but an act. I started arguing on how having pets, or not, depending on the situation could say a lot about the person. “We usually have a cat here, but she’s always away. Or in Robin’s room, we called her Vagabonde.”

Straightening himself on the chair, he pulled out his phone, careful not to show me his screen and started scrolling on it, while talking. “I do have a dog, his name is Bepo. And before you ask, I know I don’t have that much free time, so I let him stay with my neighbor who’s basically in love with him.” When he found the picture he wanted, he showed it to me, and there it was on the screen, a big white fluffy Samoyed. I couldn’t help but notice the most adorable smile on his face before he turned the screen around, he stared at the screen a bit longer before locking his phone. The man was clearly in love with his dog, and it was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.

“He’s very energetic, and he sleeps with me. Since my neighbor has trouble sleeping, she does not mind when I come get him late. I pay her for it, even though she says she’d do it for free. What does it say about me?” Right when I was about to reply, the alarm on his phone went off, it was time for him to go. He helped me clean everything up in a hurry, then we made our way to the door.

We both stopped at the entrance, perhaps wanting to say something more but not knowing what. I took the leap, and poked his arm, “I think it says that you’re a lot less intimidating, you like cute things, and I can’t wait for Thursday. I would also love to meet Bepo, maybe take a nap with him-“ I grinned widely when he frowned, laughing at his almost offended reaction, and continued, “and you, since clearly I won’t be able to separate the both of you.”

He did not reply for a few second, then he smiled. “You’re right, I do love cute things. I can’t help but try to get them for myself,” The tension that had disappeared while talking about our lives, had suddenly return, I could hear my blood pumping in my ears. Law raised his hand to rest it on my jaw as he gazed down at me with the faintest smile, I did not know what to do. This was supposed to be a quick fuck with a pretty boy, but he clearly had charms and I couldn’t untangle myself from the effects he had on me.

It’s when his nose brushed against mine that I realized how close he was, and where this was going. Our lips where ghosting over one another, I could almost feel his hair, brushing against my chin. I wanted to pull him close and finally break the tension that had installed between us. But when I was about to kiss him, he pulled back just enough so that our lips couldn’t meet and breathed, “See you on Thursday then.” Then he pressed a light kiss on my cheek before turning around and waving at me.

I stood there, stunned. This asshole knew what he was doing, and he was having too much fun with it. But that moment made it clear I was not the only one interested, and it was like a win for me. At least I knew he’d keep is promises of a good fuck on Thursday, seeing how much he was into me.

Shaking the daydreaming away, I got back inside and waited until he was downstairs to unlock the door with the intercom. When I saw his car drive away on the small screen, I let out a sigh of relief and moved back to my room where I slumped on my bed, exhausted. “Thursday can’t come any faster.” Rolling on my back, I grabbed my phone and considered sending a text to Law. But would I even say? ‘Nice kiss attempt, left me wanting more’? ‘Damn, you got me horny with just that, can’t wait to see what them hands do, cowboy’?

Cringing, I opted not to text him. The man was probably busy, I hardly think doctors only fill in paperwork every day. Running my hands over my face, I groaned into my palms before sitting back up. “Sure, he’s hot, but maybe he’s not a good fuck.” I hummed in agreement with myself, “I did not have any feedback about his feats, maybe he’s single because he sucks.” I nodded to myself again, before remembering he told me he did fuck. A lot. I let myself fall back on the bed, closing my eyes as I pondered longer.

I did not know where the date would take place, but as I gave it a deeper thought, I also started thinking more and more of what we’d do once we’d get to his place. I remembered he said we’d have to make a detour by his place anyway because he’d have to get changed… But he seemed like he had plans for us. Or maybe we’d just…

Arrive at his place, it’d look minimalistic, he clearly was not one for sentimental stuff. He’d tell me to wait as he’d get changed in his room, leaving it ajar so that I could catch a glimpse of his body. He wouldn’t be in scrubs; those were taken way before leaving the hospital but… I like the idea of him wearing one anyway, it reminded me of HandSurgeon and for some reason it got me going.

As he’d take off his shirt, he’d look over his shoulder and smile smugly at me, before asking if I was enjoying the show. If I were bold enough, I’d tell him I’d rather join the show to which he’d grin and tell me to join him. A heated make out session would ensue, then I’d push him to the bed, straddle his lap and unbuckle his belt.

“I think we should keep it close by, for later use,” He said, mentioning the belt, before gripping me tightly under the thighs and flipping me around so that he was on top. Once there, he slid his hands from my side to my arms, that he lifted over my head before leaning over, a toothy grin on his lips. “You’re not even fighting it, so obedient.” His lithe fingers wrapped themselves around my wrists caressing them gently, then he reached behind me towards the bed headboard, and I heard a metallic sound. Suddenly, I was restrained. Around my wrists, comfortable, leather handcuffs, tied to the bed headboard by lengthy chains.

“Belts aren’t the best restraints, but I am prepared…” He gripped his belt tightly, twisting it in his hands. “It’s however a great whip,” I was startled when the leather touched my stomach, my shirt had been removed, somehow, at some point. Law was now wearing black latex gloves, his sleeves rolled up while he was still fully dressed. I thought he had taken his shirt off earlier but… “Don’t start thinking, enjoy it. That’s what you want, right? To give up control, let yourself get loose,” I think I nodded.

He let the belt travel all over my body, I was only in my undergarments. And he was taking his time to make sure to touch each and every inch of my body. Like a predator observing its pray, he was walking around the bed at a slow pace, the leather belt grazing my skin ever so lightly. But it was enough to make me want more, it was enough to make me contract my muscles in apprehension when he’d raised the belt. I did not know if he was going to strike, I don’t know what mood he was in, but I liked the thrill. “Look at you, all spread up and ready, quiet…”

His gloved hand was now gripping my chin tightly, forcing me look up at him. “You’ve been tamed so well, you’re not talking until told to.” He breathed against my lips. I felt one of his hand traveled from my chest to between my legs, under my underwear and slowly, he pressed a finger against my clit. Then between my lower lips, only teasing my hole. Over and over again. Surprised, I only gasped and tried to look at him, but he moved to murmur right next to my ear, “But I think I want to hear you, loud and clear. Why don’t you be a good girl, and stop holding back, mmm?” I let out a breath I did not know I was holding and started panting.

The nerves, the anticipation, the excitement, all of it was let out through shaky breathing as he’d touch me then-

Startling awake, I heard my phone ring and scrambled to my senses, trying to find it. I heard a thud at my feet and bent over to look what it was, only to realize it was my phone. Quickly grabbing it, I picked it up and put it to my ear. “Yep?”

“So, how was your date with Law?” I heard Robin ask, I could also hear the grin on her face.

“I don’t know if I should thank you or curse you, Rob. But for now… it was nice, I liked it… Although it was odd to see him on my campus at first, still is a bit weird when I think about it but, you know, it’s the thought that matters, right?”

Giggling, the black-haired woman on the other end of the line could be heard shooing someone away before answering, “Well, he did have to fight Nami. She was very much against the idea, but he said he wanted to make you feel comfortable for Thursday. So that it’s not a stressful first date, you know?”

So, he did give it a thought, the fact that I was studying only gave him the opportunity to come by. I wonder what his excuse would have been if I hadn’t been studying the entire day. Focusing back on the conversation, I gave Robin more details of what happened. I considered not telling her about the almost kiss, but she was clearly in for the gossip. So, I told her, except I didn’t tell her I wish more would have happened. How I still wondered what his lips would feel like against mine, and how I’m curious of how they’d feel against my skin, barely grazing it, his stubble following each delicate touch. The latter being something I’d hopefully find out on Thursday.

When everything had been said, and she had told me about her day, we hung up and I was left with the remnant of my hot dream.

I stared at nothing for a moment, considering my options. I could work on some assignments, I could distract myself, or I could… Open discord and see if HandSurgeon was busy. Not for something too exhausting, no, but for a little bit of fun.

So, I did.

Edelweiss: fun game to suggest

Edelweiss: no one around me, but still, you get a picture of me

Edelweiss: you don’t have to send anything… although I wouldn’t mind much

Edelweiss: then, fun times?

Edelweiss: I’m bored and I don’t know… maybe we could do something

Drumming my fingers on the back of my phone, smacking my lips a few times. I can’t believe I was growing impatient for such thing.

Minutes passed, I started bouncing my leg with anticipation, forcing myself to not send more messages in case he was busy. I remembered he had said he’d be more busy this week, but I did not know his schedule, maybe he was free now.

I felt my phone vibrate in my hand and saw a message on discord. I opened the app excitedly,

HandSurgeon: I have to get going, I’ll be off for a few hours. Then, odds are that I’ll pass out when I get home, I’m sorry dear.

HandSurgeon: But, I am not refusing pictures of my girl. If that’s what you’re suggesting. If you are, I’ll give you a few instructions on how to take them.

Edelweiss: I am suggesting that yes… I have a mirror…

HandSurgeon: You’ve read my mind. On your knees in front of it, naked. One with legs spread, the other not. Don’t be shy and grab your breasts as you do so, feeling yourself as you’re doing a private photoshoot just for me. Your hand traveling down, caressing your stomach to stop just between your legs.

HandSurgeon: Your free hand gripping your beautifully stricken thighs, remembering how much of a disobedient girl you’ve been last night. How much you’ve learnt since, how good you’ll be for me.

HandSurgeon: So good you won’t touch yourself until I’m back and free to take care of you. And if I’m not back before Wednesday… well then, that someone better fuck you better than I can make you feel even though I’m not with you.

HandSurgeon: And if you don’t fuck by then, no touching.

HandSurgeon: Be good for me Edelweiss, see you. Let your creativity run wild.

Edelweiss: Yes sir, see you then.

Closing the app, I saw my reflection in the, now, locked screen. It’s only then that I realized I was slightly pouting. I made a weird face and quickly got out of bed then took a good look at the long mirror next to my desk. “Well, it shows too much personal shit, I’ll have to move it.” I mumbled before rolling up my sleeves and using my strength the best I could I moving it to the side of my bed. The reflective part was facing my window, so I closed the blinds, and it was neutral enough to not give any information about me.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” I panted, while coming back from the bathroom with a cleaning spray, “If I’m going to send proper nudes, I ain’t sending them with a dirty mirror…” I grumbled, tiring myself already from the wild movements I did to really get the glass clean. The squeaky sound of the towel against the glass was all that I could hear, along by long breathing as I thoroughly scrubbed it.

Once it was done, and I was settled, naked in front of it, I felt a shiver ran down my spine. Being in this position and being able to see how I look… I felt utterly exposed, which made sense considering I was naked. But the idea that I was doing all of this, just for that stranger, it felt odd. I liked that feeling, but was I allowed to feel that pride, that joy, from making myself pretty for a stranger? Was that objectification? Huffing, I told myself that I didn’t care because I liked feeling god. I did follow his instructions and took the picture how he had asked, but then I took some liberties.

I found one of my favourite sexy outfit and put it on, making sure it highlighted my assets.

Giving myself a once over in the lengthy mirror, I made a thinking face. Since Law teased me earlier, I could perhaps tease him back? Show him what he’d get Thursday, what he’d have to wait for. But then again, was I willing to be the first one to send a text after the coffee date? And have that first text to be a daring picture of me?

Licking my lips, I pondered a bit longer. Then thought I could make it just enough to have him want more. I moved to my desk and leaned against it, my butt resting on it. I then angled the phone to show my face where I gave my best flirtatious smile, the outfit I was wearing showed off my cleavage and my neck, so I made sure he could see the latter clearly, knowing he liked it.

Taking the picture, I hesitated upon seeing the final result. The boldness I got from sending HandSurgeon naked pictures was starting to fade. I had to act fast if I didn’t want to chicken out, so I sent it to Law quickly, that way I couldn’t go back. It was followed by a message.

You: Thursday, right? Not that your opinion matters, but how does this outfit sound for that research?

I made a face at that text. “I wish I could take it back, it’s so bad, god it’s so bad.” I looked away and sighed, then looked back at my phone and sighed louder, and looked away again, “I’ll just leave it at that, I’ll put the phone down and wait for an answer. Yeah, yeah…”

Having convinced myself to relax, I managed to not touch my phone for the rest of the evening. I did spend that evening working on some stuff, since there was no distraction to steer me away from actually getting shit done and ended up being productive.

Since both the men I had started talking to recently were busy, and my friends away, I had the most boring night.

I had forgotten about the text I had sent by submerging myself with work, but when all was done and I was alone in my bed with my thoughts, I remembered and cringed. When I checked if I had any reply, and saw nothing, I felt a knot form itself in my stomach but tried to rationalize. ‘It’s ok, it’s alright, he’s probably still at work, maybe he fell asleep, we’ll see tomorrow’ Was my last thought before falling asleep.

When I woke up in the morning, the knot only tightened, and I felt more anxious than ever. Once again, I thought maybe I shouldn’t have done that.

[Part 7]

#trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law one piece #One piece law #words of pleasure #wop #fanfiction #ao3 #writer #writing #writings #ao3 writer #fanfictions #fanfic #law x reader

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heyitsyn · 4 years ago

Text

Prove Me Wrong

M!Reader x Oikawa

a/n: SDKLFJSLDKFJDLSKF OKAY I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I LAST UPDATED BUT I REALLY INVESTED MY TIME INTO RESEARCHING AND READING FANFICS WITH AN M!READER BC I REALLY DIDNT WANNA GET IT WRONG SO I APOLOGIZE IF I DID SOMETHING WRONG AND I HOPE THIS ANON LIKES IT!!!

anon:

-heres an interesting thought. what about flamboyant oikawa with a cold boyfriend😳😳

YEYYY I FINALLY UPDATED

LETS GET STARTED SHALL WE?

okayokayokay

so in the request above

this is a m!reader

meaning you will be male in this one so hehe yep the story starts now

you are,,,

distant

and cold

but its mainly just because you were,,,

too tired to actually put in the effort of socializing

between bouncing between part-time jobs to care for your siblings and to schoolwork and book club

the mans can only do so much

so you spend most of your time in school just trying to catch up on sleep bc youre too busy studying up all night for exams since yanno

✨gRaDuaATiOn✨

unfortunately for you, your class had the famous manwhore oikawa tooru

why is that a bad thing?

well, imagine just trying to get some shut eye and suddenly, you just hear a bunch of screaming girls and it gets louder the closer the guy approaches your classroom and when he opens it,

the screams become 10x bass boosted

then imagine that with your sensitive hearing

now,,

it does bother you but it wouldnt bother you as much if he told them to leave

BUT NOOOOOO

he decides to let them in and chat with them and flatter them and continue with that bs until the bell rings

even then,

the girls in your class cant help but keep giggling at him and he always whispers in that obnoxious voice and youre just like two seconds away from ripping his tongue out

now

you dont hate him

you just genuinely dislike his way of living

and the way he talks

and the way he acts

yea see?

no hate

theres a difference

then there was that one time that you got so fed up with it that when oikawa settled on his seat and the fangirls circled him like some cult

they started talking to him all at once trying to get his attention

so it was a garbled mess of sounds and you growled, burying your face deeper in your arms because you would snap really really soon

then one girl shrieked when oikawa smiled at her and then you really just let go of all bearings

your chair made a squeak as you shot up, palms slamming against the wooden desk and your eyes glaring straight at them

‘go back to the farm, ya squealing pigs’

DSKFJLSDFKJSDFKDJS SORRY I LOVE TSUMU

this made everyone silent-even the others in the class just minding their own business

they all knew you as the quiet kid who didnt really talk much but those who did were really scared at you and the way you talked to them with such a cold and monotonous voice that they started spreading rumors about you

even absurd ones like your eyes are so cold bc youve killed so many people that you have no life and empathy left

LIKE WHAT THE HECK YOU STRUGGLED TO GET A SPIDER OUT OF YOUR SISTERS ROOM THE OTHER DAY LIKE EXCUSE YOU

but apparently they were just,,, so scared of you that when you finally got done with them and bursted out, the girls started crying

YALL KNOW THE SAYING LIKE HELL HAS STARTED WHEN THE QUIET KID SNAPS

the females run out of the room scared and the others nervously looks at you

your eyes sweeped through the room and each one of them flinched when you made eye contact with them

YES ASSERT OUR DOMINANCE M/N

the only who didnt was oikawa tooru himself

your eyes landed on him and he still had that stupid smug look on his stupidly gorgeous face and you wanted to ki-WAIT NO SLAP it off of him

‘the hell you looking at?’

you grumbled at him and he just merely shook his head with a smile

‘you remind me a chihuahua, m/n-chan. so cute when its angry’

‘HAH?!’

now it isnt a surprise to hear oikawa tooru say that to a boy bc wowza the school loves him so much that hes a bi icon in seijoh and hes such a king like who cares?

but they were surprised to see you turn red, the tips of your ears to the base of your neck were all flushed

‘see? so cute, right, everyone?’

KSDFJLSDKJFS

THE NERVE OF THIS MAN

the class didnt say anything except just put their heads down bc as much as they wanted to agree with oikawa at how suddenly hot you looked, they were too scared that you might plummet their faces to the ground

maybe thats when everyone started noticing you more

again, you were very quiet, you didnt talk much, you just sat there and listened so obviously you didnt really stand out but then that outburst made you more noticeable

you started seeing girls in your class staring at you then blush and look away abashedly

then the guys in your class started greeting you, even people in the hallways

ngl the attention you suddenly got was overwhelming

especially when oikawa seemed to call out to you all the time now

as you were walking down the stairs, hed see you and he’d shout and wave to you

‘m/n-chan! hiii!!!!’

his loud voice would make everyone turn and look at you and you dont do well with public attention so you turn red and you glare at him

‘shut the hell up, idiot. and dont call me by my first name. we’re not friends’

you turned to walk in the classroom but you looked at him again after taking a few steps

there he was

smiling and giggling with those girls

all he does is smile and giggle and shit

its so damn fake that you cant believe everyone fell for it and the worst thing is oikawa’s doing it to get everyone’s acceptance and validication

it was pathetic and disgusting

poor oikawa :(

now on to baby flatttykawa side,

he was kinda hurt by that

like how the heck are you not friends when youve been going to high school for 3 years?

sure, its only been casual greetings and him waving at you when yall made eye contact

but its still something, right?

right?

when you walked back into the classroom, tooru cant help but feel down at the declaration of the lack of friendship you had

his form slouched and his eyes trailed down but the voice of some girl brought him back to where he was and to fix his attitude

‘oikawa-san? are you okay?’

the others muttered in concern with her but they were eased when he raised a peace sign with the signature smile

‘yep! all good!’

GOD I REALLY CANT STAND IT WHEN HE USES A FACADE TO EVERYONE BUT LIKE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH BC HES SUCH A STRONG CHARACTER THAT DOESNT BREAK AND HES SO INSECURE AND IT PAINS ME SO MUCH THAT HE FEELS THE NEED TO HIDE BEHIND A MASK EVERYDAY AND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

truth be told,

oikawa has always noticed you

not only do you work at the one bakery with his milk bread but you also work at the convenience store that the team sometimes visits

then he also noticed you picking up your brother from the volleyball practice that takeru’s part of and he cant help but frown at the eyebags under your eyes that he always sees

he lies awake at night just thinking how you would look without those eyebags, without the sickly looking complexion, or even just the lack of life in your eyes

then during class, you sat by the window

tooru knows this bc his eyes always fixes itself on you whenever he opens that door and he has to hold in the need to hug you when he sees you sleeping on your desk

others might call you lazy

others might call you a video game all nighter kid

but they dont notice the things you do

the nervous habits hes seen from you at the times that tooru couldnt help but stare

he knew it was creepy to do it

but you were so silent

you blended yourself into the background and you made sure to stay there

thats why nobody knows anything about you

with good looks like yours and a smart brain (he knew this from mattsun and makki being your students), why exactly were you not known?

maybe thats why it drew you to him

all his life he chased,

but now hes the one chasing?

tooru knows that your left eyebrow lifts when sensei writes something you dont understands

tooru knows that you like to do sudoku in the convenience store while you worked

tooru knows you eat the same meal during lunch every day from the same lunchbox

and he also knows that your brother talks so highly about you from takeru

the little things your brother brags about like your ability to cook f/f or your weird ability to just assemble something without looking at the instruction manual

he notices and knows all these things about you

things that people never really even bothered to

oikawa didnt even know he liked you until iwaizumi pointed it out during lunch

the third years liked to go and eat at the rooftop where it was nice and windy

oikawa was sitting and leaned against the tall wire fence, his eyes fixated on you down below on the bench as you ate your lunch

then you accidentally loosened the chopsticks causing your food to slip off

that made oikawa giggle

he was chuckling and giggling that the others noticed him when he suddenly went quiet

‘oi, oikawa’

makki nudged him back to them and tooru flinched before smiling at them

‘hm? so you do notice me!’

iwa glared

‘idiot. of course we do. youre laughing over there like some damn schoolgirl. did one of your fangirls posses you or something? if not, cut it out. its ugly’

oikawa shot him an offended look

‘what?! iwa-chan so mean!’

mattsun took the liberty to peer over the edge to see what he was looking at and smirked

‘eh? were you looking at l/n-sensei?’

oikawa blushed, feeling like he just got caught doing something bad

‘and what about it? im looking at you too, right now, mattsun!’

makki cackled at oikawa’s poor attempt of reasoning

‘i mean, i dont blame you. if issei wasnt here, id definitely get with him’

SEDKLFJSDLFISDKFJ MATTSUHANA YALL :”)

oikawa’s eyes wandered back down to you and he noticed you put the bento box to the side before sneezing

‘gosh, even his sneeze is cute’

he mumbled then jolted when he heard his own words

iwa sighed

‘what are we going to do with you, shittykawa?’

‘what?! what did i do?!’

iwa’s eyes scrunched and he scrutinized his best friend

‘boke. i feel bad for that kid, doesnt know this stupid idiot likes him’

so thats how oikawa came to terms of it

he thought he was just interested and fascinated with you but he really does like you

and to be honest, he doesnt really want you to know that bc duh, you dont like him so why bother?

baby oiks doesnt interact with you much anymore bc he knows you get uncomfy with attention but he still does look out for you and decides he should just admire from afar

he will live every day just holding his feelings in for you and one day they will disappear

but today just wasnt the day

maybe today was the start of the worst yet the best part of your life

last night was particularly rough as the convenience store you worked in had a drunk person who wanted to fight with you and your manager had to call the police and it was just a mess

to add on to it, midterms were around the corner-like next week- so you were studying up for that

but your sister got sick so you were also trying to take care of her and making sure her fever was going down and her crying ever few hours about her tummy ache didnt allow you to sleep

hehehe single parent working late tingz

ALSO SHE DOESNT HAVE MISS RONA JFC

so yep haha you did NOT get any sleep

so you walked into school that morning, looking tired as hell and mad as hell but you just wanted to sleep bro

the one kid you tutor, matsukawa issei, and his friend who usually tags along, hanamaki takahiro, noticed you dazedly pass them in the hallway and poor dudes felt bad for you

mattsun actually pays you to tutor him bc he knows you need the money while taka preferred to buy you snacks and drinks as compensation

so it was normal that he had an energy drink in his bag that he was going to give you tomorrow during your tutoring day

‘oi! l/n!’

your head perked up at the call of your name and you nodded in greeting at the light brown haired boy

‘hey’

you muttered and mattsun placed his hands on your shoulder to keep you upright

‘oi, l/n, you sure you want to be here? you can go home and we can tell them youre sick or some-’

but you waved your hand

‘nonono todays an important lecture so i cant miss it’

the two guys didnt look convinced but they respected your need to be in school since they too need to be in class for midterms

‘here. at least take this’

makki placed a drink on your hand and you nodded and gave them a small smile

‘thanks’

you mumbled before wandering off

once they saw you at a distance away, makki wrapped an arm around issei to get his attention

‘ya think we should tell oikawa to keep an eye on him? make sure he doesnt keel over and die or somethin?’

mattsun stopped before nodding

‘yea thats a good idea’

SKLFJLSDKJFD NOT MATTSUHANA BEING YOUR PARENTS

oikawa was already in class when you walked in and he cant help but tear his eyes away from the girls to you as you sluggishly walked to your seat

the drop of your bag and the thud of your head meeting the desk made him worried bc you looked worse than usual

his phone buzzed and he checked it to see a message from mattsun

‘keep an eye out for your boyfriend. mightve been working late last night and yanno how he is. just watch out if he faints or something’

okay that made him super worried

totally ignoring what mattsun called you, oikawa knew he needed to talk to you

but these fangirls were the first problem

he shut his phone off and looked up at them with a grin that made them madly blush

‘ladies, class is about to start. oikawa-senpai would hate for you to be marked. so study hard for me, okay?’

like hypnotized cult members, the girls ran to their classrooms and tooru finally had the opportunity to talk to you

he stood up and walked over to your seat

‘m/n-chan’

he called out, looking down at you

‘m/n-chan’

he tried again and was about to put a hand on your shoulder when your hand snatched it

‘dont touch me, oikawa’

you grumbled and tooru furrowed his eyebrows

‘m/n-chan, i just wanted to ask if youre okay’

he whined and you didnt bother to look up but just let go of his hand

‘i was until you came over, idiot’

ouch

tooru was thankful that the teacher came in then and there bc he didnt know how to respond to that

he wanted to brush it off but it hurt him a little

and he knows he shouldnt entertain his crush on you but he couldnt looking at you and watching as you got up to use the bathroom

as class went on, oikawa was starting to worry

now again, hes no stalker bc his observation skills were just phenomenal due to volleyball

so he noticed that youve been in the bathroom for like 20 minutes now

DONT JUDGE US, OIKAWA. WE’RE JUST TRYING TO PUSH OUT THE BIG PIECE OF-

okay nevermind

anyways

tooru, worried that something happened, raised his hand to go and use the bathroom and the sensei wasnt exactly paying attention so he just let him go

thank god he has long legs bc he was able to reach the bathroom quick and he stifled a shriek when he saw your passed out form inside

‘M/N-CHAN!’

he yelled and he cursed when duh you were alone and who knows how long youve been there

and ew bathroom floors is bleh

you were in no way light but you werent exactly heavy either so he was able to muster up all his strength and hoisted you on his back

tooru’s heart thrummed in his chest and he knew it couldnt be that serious but he cant help but think of the worst

and yep

the nurse just told him that your heartbeat was okay and you were snoring so you mustve been exhausted by the dark circles in your eyes

‘keep an eye on him for me. i have to tend to midoriya over there. the kid broke his arm again and i dont know how’

she grumbled at the end but tooru didnt care as he sat on the chair next to your bed

he sighed before laying his head on the cot by your hand

his eyes settled on your face and how peaceful it looked

gosh, you really were so cute

your personality just sucked ass

constantly telling him to shut up and calling him idiot

hmph

not long after oikawa fell asleep, you woke up and cursed, immediately realizing you fainted and you missed class

as you were going to rub your eye, there was weight on your hand and you looked down to see a head full of brown hair that could only belong to a certain someone

a certain idiot

‘oi. oikawa, wake up’

you shook his head and when he didnt budge, you just pulled your hand from under him making him jump awake

at first, he was confused

looking around like a lost puppy and his eyes bleary

yea it was cute and what about it

then he noticed you sitting up and he smiled

‘you feeling better, m/n-chan?’

he asked, leaning close

but you placed your hand on his face to push him away

‘yea. and stop leaning so close, idiot’

you grumbled and he whined

‘youre so mean, m/n-chan! i was so worried about you!’

he complained and you rolled your eyes

‘i didnt ask you to be, idiot’

SLDKFJSDLKFJKL M/N IS SO MEAN WHAT THE FAK

oikawa frowned

‘i cant help it. i like you, m/n-chan’

you froze, looking at him with scrunched eyebrows

then you chuckled dryly

‘yea, okay sure. im okay now so you can go to class’

wOW OIKAWA DESERVES BETTER WHAT

tooru was taken aback

‘wh-what? thats it? after i just told you that i liked you?’

you blinked at him

‘what do you want me to say about that, oikawa? how do you want me to react? im not like your fangirls, squealing and shit’

your words cut deep in him and oikawa held your arm

‘no wait a minute. what do you mean by that? do you not believe me?’

‘who the hell believes something that’s fake?’

there was a snip in your tone and oikawa knew you were talking about this facade of his

‘what? i-’

‘you think i believe you? you telling me you like me? do you even know who you are?’

you asked and tooru sniffled, eyes staring at your chest

‘for years, you told people what you wanted them to hear, regardless if you meant them or not. not once have you ever told them no. who the hell accepts chocolates when they dont even like them to begin with?’

at that last part, oikawa snapped up to meet your eyes

‘how did you know’

you rolled your eyes

‘our brothers are friends, idiot. he gave him some of the chocolates you gave to takeru since the brat couldnt eat them all’

oddly, that brought some warmth in tooru’s chest

so he wasnt the only one who knows the stupid stuff

but you continued on your rant

‘for a guy who doesnt like sweet stuff, youve accepted their nasty treats all the time, like why? oh, wait i know why, because you want them to like you. it doesnt matter if-if this-this persona of yours isnt real because as long as they like you, you dont give a fuck. isn’t that true? am i right? because please, prove me wrong’

maybe your dislike for him came out at that tangent and you half expected him to cry but you were surprised when he glared at you with teary eyes

‘i will. ill prove you wrong, m/n, that i do like you and i will make you like me. ill make you like me with the real me. i swear.’

‘mhm. okay. sure, oikawa’

do you regret it?

i mean,,,

kinda?

but not really?

because you loved watching the girls faces fall when oikawa rejected their treats the next day

you were walking to class when you noticed him with his cult by the entrance and you saw him smiling at some girl before gently pushing away a can of cookies

‘gomen. i actually dont like sweets that much anymore. if you want, you can give me milk bread?’

you stopped and oikawa caught your eye and he grinned

you nodded in greeting before continuing to walk

but he noticed a small smile on your face and gosh oikawa sighed like a lovesick fool

it took iwaizumi to finally send him back and his fangirls were looking at him worriedly

‘could you be less obvious, shittykawa?’

rip iwaizumi hajime in episode 546546546 of daily adventures of oikawa tooru

you noticed that oikawa has started to become distant with his fangirls and hes been sticking to you during lunch, leaving behind the others

makki and mattsun looked like proud parents as they peered down over to you flicking oikawa’s forehead and they smiled

‘god, that kid deserves this’

‘hah? that sounds like more of a punishment to me. but i dont care. it takes him off our hands for a while’

IWA I SWEAR HES SO MEAN BUT HE STILL WUVS TOORU SO ITS OKAY

oikawa would pick your brother up and take him home when youre too busy to go get him yourself and sometimes, he even takes your little sister too which causes them to have a mini sleepover and you sleep there too

also, whenever youre working in the convenience store, tooru would buy sandwhiches and a drink just for you so you can eat them while youre on break and not have to waste money and you told himyou dont want him spending money on you but he doesnt wanna hear it

‘i dont want you buying me-’

‘ssshhhh dont. im doing this because i want to and becaus i care for you, m/n-chan’

overtime,

yea

sure

youve started to like him

youve started looking forward to seeing his stupidly cute face and his stupidly cute giggle

you went to his games and gave him a tight hug when hes about to play as a ritual for good luck and you would open your arms for him wide whenever he wins

then he didnt

against shiratorizawa, you noticed how he was so disappointed

even as you walked home with him, he continued to smile and tell you how good his team played

until you couldnt take it anymore

you pulled him over to some alleyway and you pushed him to the wall

DSKLFJLSDKFJLSDFJ WOW WHAT

oikawa nervously fiddled with his jacket and gave you a shaky smile

‘m/n-chan, what are you-’

‘tell me what youre feeling right here, right now. no bullshit, no lies, tell me everything in that pretty head of yours’

you deadpanned and tooru looked away

‘im fine’

‘are you lying to me, tooru?’

your voice was even but he could tell you were serious

he gulped before taking in a shakey breath

‘im fine. so stop asking about it!’

he exclaimed and you sighed

‘listen, i know its not official yet but you want me to be your boyfriend right?’

tooru flinched before he flushed at the word ‘boyfriend’

then he nodded

‘as your boyfriend, you have to lean on me, tooru. i dont want you to hold it to yourself because i wanna be there for you and i want to go through everything with you because i,,,,,’

you stopped and hesitated, debating if you should say it or not

‘because i like you, idiot’

you confessed and swallowed thickly

oikawa met your eye and his eyes watered

‘im so angry! im so disappointed! but i know my team did their 110 percent! we’re just not strong enough! so its not their fault! but ushijima is such a freak and hes too strong and its not fair!’

he complained and he cried loudly

not once in the 3 years of knowing oikawa have you seen him cry and you were so proud of him for being able to trust you enough to show him being vulnerable

you rushed forward held him close to your chest

‘for what it’s worth, you looked so incredibly hot and cute playing’

you whispered and pecked his neck

of course oikawa couldnt hold his surprise at the feeling of your lips on his neck so he squealed a little

you gigled and continued holding your boyfriend close, even if it was at some nasty alleyway

yall became official and ngl, they didnt see this coming

some nobody dating the grand king oikawa tooru?

what in the wattpad?

yall know that tiktok of like ‘guys you cant dm me anymore. i have a girlfriend now. what else? and i love her’

IF YALL DONT KNOW IM SORRY

but you totally made oikawa tell his fangirls that

YOU KNOW THE FUNNY THING?

when yall became official, you actually gained your own little fanclub

maybe its because you gained clout from your boyfriend but they started noticing you and wowza you were hot

before, it was you getting jealous over tooru but now, it was him getting possessive of you

hes such a brat that he sits on your lap before class and youre just all smirking and feeling all good bc your baby is so cute when hes jealous

YOU CANT DISAGREE THAT HE DOESNT RADIATE UKE ENERGY

but all oiks has to do is pull down your collar and expose your purple littered collarbones and they will know who you belong to

theres a reason why iwa-chan is now the kids babysitter

youre still kinda cold and distant to people but youre soft for your baby and you always hold him close when hes in sight and you just cant get enough of him

:’)

also!!

your sister loves dressing you up and oikawa has his sisters makeup and they both do your makeup and you guys have tea party with the boys and just the cutest domestic stuff

you still call him idiot though

but like affectionately yanno?

and over the years youve turned it down to dummy

and ngl tooru loves it when you call him that

what in the dumbification-

because he knows that equivalent to babe from you and he absolutely just loves you lmao

youre def the more quieter and calmer one in the relationship like you absolutely dont react much

while tooru is the overreactor and hes very animated with his facial expressions and stuff

like the one time

he was cooking some chicken pasta and you cheekily grabbed a piece of chicken and he made a dramatic gasp

‘*le gasp* oikawa m/n how dare steal a piece of chicken!’

you cackled before crossing your arms at the sight ofyour lover with his pursed lips and hands on his hips

‘excuse you. its more of you who’d take my last name’

it was so easy to make him flustered and tooru quickly turned around to tend back to the food but he was really just hiding his red face

‘b-baka. thats not going to happen’

‘not if i do it first’

you shrugged and smirked, wondering if he will fall for it

and as expected with oikawa tooru

‘yea okay sure’

‘i will!’

‘prove me wrong, m/n-chan~’

‘turn around right now’

oikawa rolled his eyes playfully before turning with a smile

‘what are you-*le gasp part 2*’

his hands covered his mouth at the sight of you there in front of him, kneeling on your knee tightly clutching a silver ring between your thumb and index finger

your heart was thrumming in your chest but you gulped and smiled

‘i win. now marry me, dummy’

oikawa screamed

a/n: sorry if this sucked booty :((( but i just really like the thought of uke oikawa and just him with a cute boyfriend for a change like please we all know oikawa is a bi king and thats on docosahexaenoic acid

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labnegativeone · 4 years ago

Text

The heat of Robo-Fortune’s server room bares down on one Valerie “Valentine” ____, no noise audible in the room except for the clicks of her fingers on a keyboard. Despite the imposing atmosphere of the consciousless bodies lining the walls, Robo-Fortune’s central computer was...not particularly impressive, in comparison. Sure, it was large, but at the end of the day it was just...a big computer. The kind of thing that she’d have expected would be best suitable for....computing hundred-digit numbers. Not so much powering what seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be a largely sentient machine. As much as a certain scientist wanted to subvert that.

Her code is, truthfully, still kind of baffling to Valentine. It all makes...just enough sense for her to be able to work with it, if she needs to, but if she ever tries to truly *comprehend* it it all just falls apart in her hands. It doesn’t help that the computer keeps a backup instance of her AI running for security purposes, currently manifesting itself as a small, poorly drawn ASCII cat rambling around the screen obnoxiously. Valentine sighs. Yeah, that’s Robo-Fortune alright.

Now, to be fair, they aren’t actually medical scalpels. As for the body bag...blame Easter. It worked for her, I just mimic her style, and somehow it ends up working for me too. Who knows. As for the manual shutdown, sure, that would have been an option...but it wouldn’t have fixed the problem. That’s what I’m doing now. Brian’s at least managed to delineate where that...censorship was. Which means I can get rid of it easily enough...

...Hold on, where did that...? Oh. Right. Top of the screen here. I don’t know how I didn’t notice that. But I still...

One thing at a time.

Oh, so you all know about...that too, huh? Well. Luckily I haven’t heard from her in...quite some time, actually. I think it’s been something like two years at this point. Sure, I still want to avenge the Last Hope, but...I have something worth protecting here now. If I see her again, I’m not hesitating.

Wow, you’re really keeping them coming, Fortune. Okay, sure, whatever makes you happy. I’ve been wondering that myself, actually. I thought that setup Fortune had in her more hospitable room, where we usually gather for the asks, was the thing that was uploading these, but...clearly there’s wiggle room. Up in Lab 8, and I know I remember one with Fukua where there was nobody else around...

Ugh...Fukua...he’s really got her in a corner. It’s a shame you’re the only one here I can fix just by doing some reprogramming, Fortune.

(Surprisingly, I think I agree with that assessment, Valentine. Though I doubt we have the same ideas. Excuse me, but what are you doing, exactly?)

Hello, Brian. I figured you were going to come bother me about this. What do you want?

(...I’ll admit, you were a lot more surprised right now when I imagined this conversation in my mind.)

(Well, it’s good that you aren’t, I suppose. That indicates you don’t believe you have anything to hide. I can appreciate that...confidence, at least. So, let’s get to the point. What do you think you’re doing, Valentine?)

What does it look like I’m doing, director? I’m fixing your terrible decision. Look, I don’t know what it is that’s motivating you to do what you’re doing, but if you used that exposed brain of yours you’d realize that programming in a bunch of contingencies to keep your combat robot from functioning when the people around her are experiencing emotions is kind of a bad idea.

(What I installed, Valentine, was a filter for concepts that would be counter to her functions. If she got uppity and decided to, say, help the other two break out, that would be an obvious problem, yes? Or, if she was exposed to...certain concepts that might color the world around her in an unhelpful fashion.)

What-ugh, just listen to yourself! Pretentious-I don’t care what you intended it to be for, Brian. The fact of the matter is, it isn’t. Working. All it’s doing is shutting her down and causing problems. And this time, it was so bad that it full-on incapacitated her, because she’s realizing what’s doing it, and she doesn’t like it. I think a working weapon that might catch a case of the feelings is a bit better than one that’s slowly tearing herself apart trying to avoid a bunch of mental landmines. So I’m fixing it, director.

(And, of course, this idea has nothing to do with your softness for them, correct? I’d just be interested to know, Valentine. You can talk about doing it for her sake as a weapon, but I know you. And I’ve heard what you said to them. They’re not things you say lightly. So, I’d just like some confirmation that you’re not going to do something ill-advised, like take this opportunity to encourage her-or them-to break away from us.)

I’m not an idiot. Brian, I’m just removing that code, and just so that we don’t have to worry about her functions. You’re right, I do care about them, and that fact is part of what’s motivating me to do this, but I’d want to either way. Besides, you already took care of our escape plan. You said so yourself. Birdland isn’t going to come do some heroic rescue now either way, no matter how much Robo-Fortune is or isn’t shutting herself down.

(A good answer. But we’ll just have to see how well it holds up to scrutiny.)

*Siiigh* Whatever. Go ahead, root around all you want.

(OH, I WILL.)

.....

(....)

.....

(Come on, you have to be....)

I have to be what, Director?

(...Nevermind. I suppose you *don’t* have to be hiding something. Unless you’ve suddenly become a master of regulating your thoughts...the story checks out, Valentine. Alright, then. I suppose you have a point. Oh, but...if I were you, I would keep...hold on, scroll up. Yes, there we go. This section. That’s been there for some time now, and I assure you, it’s important.)

...And if I ask, will you explain why?

(No. No, not as of yet, at the very least. And, ideally, never, but I shouldn’t rule such things out.)

Great. Alright, sure. It’s staying.

(Wonderful. Carry on, then.)

....

((More under the cut))

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

Valentine finally releases a held breath as the director disappears. She knows he probably checked to make sure that she was going to carry out that request, as well. Of course, she wasn’t. Not in the slightest.

You know, she begins, she was a little worried about this before he got here.

There’s no response from the room, at first. Until something materializes next to her, a copy in every way save for the fact that she’s made out a gently glowing energy. Ghost removes her copied mask, a pleased, almost bragadocious grin on her semi-transparent face.

““...””

Valentine shakes her head. She doesn’t have whatever experience allows Shamone to translate Ghost’s expressions so well, but she can tell that the dead woman is obviously riding the high of her deception.

Valentine types one final command and steps back as the machinery whirs. The update is sent out. It won’t be long before Fortune comes back online. She takes a look at Ghost, just out of the corner of her eye, and nods. Thanks, she says. Ghost responds as elaborately as usual, but her expression softens. She moves forward, walking in a manner that doesn’t quite look right, as though she’s moving under some other power and is merely going through the motions in the most literal sense. She moves one hand towards the keyboard, and types out her message.

> Anything for her.

Valentine nods in understanding, before moving to delete those words. Ghost briefly seems upset by it, but one look is all it takes for her to realize why. We don’t want him to stumble onto that, Valentine explains.

““...””

And with that, Ghost disappears. Valentine takes a moment to wait. And worry. She’s not sure if this is going to work. It feels like the odds are good that it won’t. But she has to at least try. And it feels a little selfish to say, but...

She needs to see the look on his smug fucking face if it does.

#Skullgirls #Valentine #Skullgirls Brain Drain #Askblog

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vynnyal · 5 years ago

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Throwing random thoughts, headcanons, and a variety of pasta at the wall (but only those having to do with vessels and/or their biology this time): The Thrilling Third Installment™

...aka pretending i can be dark and dramatic jskhdfd

Thk's larger form is not the standard, but the exception. Thk was cited as being "raised and trained to prime form", which people take to mean pk assisted in the vessel's natural growth. However, that conclusion leaves a lot of unanswered questions, most important of which being “then what about Ghost?” In short, I think that train of thought is backwards. Vessels can't grow- they are ageless, and immortal. We know this due to Ghost, despite living as long if not longer than thk, being completely unchanged over the years. The only thing pk trained into "prime form" was thk’s mind and fighting prowess. Their body... well, I think it was mutated. Most likely either directly by pk, or ordered by him- and with the shenanigans happening over in the sanctum, I wouldn't be surprised if Soul was involved, too. In any case, it was in no means natural. Vessels are corpses reanimated by void; neither corpses nor void tend to make drastic changes on their own all that often. Whether pk predicted the vessel’s “issues” and intended to manually “upgrade” them from the beginning, it's hard to say. But... yeah. Unless Ghost goes out of their way to make themselves grow- if its even possible, now that pk is gone- its fairly safe to say, they never will.

...with that in mind, we are promptly gonna ignore that for the rest of this post lmaooo

Grown-up vessels wouldn't look like thk; while they are described as being raised into "prime form"... prime form, to whom? Rather than looking like an idealized pk soldier, it sounds much more fitting that they’d have an entirely different, natural adult form. Consider: their cloaks being longer and fuller, perhaps filling out into something with a more practical use to their “species”. Better yet, they could even grow up to be more beast-like. Feral vessels, YEhaW

The black egg temple is cited as being "built to sustain [vessels]", yet it can't be their lifespan that is sustained. Rather, it seems the egg is specifically designed to keep the radiance from tearing thk apart, physically and/or mentally. Ngl its p obvious, but worth noting.

Sorta-au where Ghost’s shade has 8 eyes, and/or is generally all-around more cryptid-looking.

@ the sharpshadow charm and the strange, 6-eyed creature their shade turns into: kudos to this post, they bring up something super interesting- the creature not only resembles the Shade Lord, but the lord outright becomes it during the Embrace the Void cutscene.

makes me respect the ol’ civilization a whole lot more if a single charm can turn a baby shade into a baby lord.

The concept of finding ghosts unconscious body, laying next to a corpse, while they battle in their dreams. Alt: when ghost enters the dream realm, their shade leaves their shell... And protects their body from harm.

If steel soul mode is taken as canon, just how did ghost and the shade meet? Alt: Ghost may never have “met” it at all, as it technically doesn’t exist in that mode- instead, its more of a metaphor than an actual entity.

What the vessels looked like- or were supposed to look like- before the void. Alt: a story following a child, alive and untouched, that somehow managed to be spared. They could even have a gender. Alt alt: the void intentionally spared them for some purpose, or even out of simple kindness- or at least, something that resembles kindness.

Re: the shade inexplicably having a nail: all the vessel's swords are crafted from “will-bearing rock”- of which i’ve come to lovingly call living stone- and as such, are of void themselves. That's how the shade seems to conjure up its own copy; it merely shapes it, from the ground, using void. And, while more of a stretch, Ghost’s nail being some sort of living stone/pale ore alloy could explain just how Ghost can do seemingly pretty crazy things with an otherwise ordinary nail. Better, while 100% a baseless hc, its material might actually enable Ghost to build it up and modify it to suite their size as they grow older. finally, a logical reason adult Ghost has an adult-sized nail-claymore. hdsfghjfghdsjf

On that same thought: Ghost outright invented the "art" of manipulating- or creating- living stone to make their nail. ...gimme a sec. The other escaped vessels have nails, too, right? Either meaning they also discovered this ability... or that theres some legitimate ground for the “vessel gang” hc. Or, yanno, i’m reading too much into Ari’s sprites but sHHhh

How did all the vessels know to race to the top? They seemed to be falling merely because they had just been born and had literal, actual baby strength; yet not only did they inexplicably risk everything competing to the top, they somehow knew death was waiting if they lost. Alt: pk just, bringing a fucking megaphone and telling them like a sports announcer.

What if Ghost made it, and instead of falling, they managed to joined thk at the lip? What would pk do? Push them off the edge??? Or just adopt them both?? Oh fuck au where they're raised as twin sacrifices. Or worse yet, they’re raised unequally, and one is trained only as an afterthought. As a backup.

Alternatively, pk keeps all the vessels au, only a few years later when they're grown. Pk now has a literal army of pure knights. Radiance is fucked.

Hm. If vessels were fully coherent entities from the moment of birth, why was there a crib in the white palace? Did... did they use it? I have a feeling team cherry made that asset before the abyss scene lmaooo alt: they did, uh, use the crib. Cue a very awkward scene of thk, clearly not a normal baby, staring at wl with like... idk, the poofy baby hat and pacifier. I can’t tell if the image is more funny or more sad rn shdfgfjsdgg

The og notes that inspired this post, in case my rambling makes more sense (and w/o the awful comic hjsfgjsdfhj): Oh oh OH i GET it now. The void is all about "will" and whatnot, right? And shades are "fragments of a lingering will"- will, like the one you leave after your death, but instead of inheritance its the vessels' desires...last regrets.... DAMN team cherry, that symbolism is clever as heck. That took me a while. Kinda funny how a will is, technically, a person's last regrets Like I knew they were last regrets but I didn't understand WHY. Duh, it's because they're literally Made Of Will. They are the vessel's "wills". I'm so stupid.

Ghost, walking thru the abyss, getting increasingly fed up / freaked out, ducking into a crack in the wall. They follow the crack into the Scream Chamber, pause, then exhale in relief that this was EXACTLY what they needed.

Ghost's shade rolling up its void-sleeves like “fuck it, ima defeat thk myself”

Why was thk's sword there? Was its pedestal decayed? Did it fall from their body? Was it place there as an afterthought, or hurriedly? alt: taking thk's sword before freeing them, but doing the mom thing like you're grounding them hdhfjchjch

I can’t believe it just occured to me now, but... as objectivley stupid as the vessel’s test was, Ghost... technically came in second place. What if that whole scene was a metaphor? Because really, it’s just too silly to take seriously. To do so isn’t too far fetched, either; many other elements in the game’s story are better taken as symbolic or metaphorical, anyways. Take the PoP cutscene- while it could’ve been a literal moment, where they just happened to find themselves standing around and took the moment to appreciate each other... imo it makes much more sense to read it as the concept of their faint ~forbidden love~ and parental pride itself. Or, better yet, the scene at the end of the 4th pantheon. Sorry, but I severely doubt that was an actual event. What I’m trying to get at is the significance of “second place” in the cutscene. My brain is too fried to chase down any other possible connections to this theme rn (if thats even what the theme is), but even without proof, the theory smooths out a few interesting tidbits related to just how Ghost could tough it out when all others failed. All except for #1, anyway. Either way I’m just happy to take this as an excuse to pretend that cutscene didn’t literally happen because like, l m a o

The story of a small group of vessels as they work together to escape hallownest. (aka the aforementioned vessel gang hc... im sure theres a more formal name but you get the idea). Its impossible to tell how long it took them to discover that near-invisible hole, the last exit remaining after the king ordered the abyss to be sealed up. Once they did, however, the remaining vessels were quick to make a desperate scramble to escape- only for the entrance to suddenly crumble shut, far, far too soon. The remaining 8 slowly made their way through deepnest, their numbers quickly dwindling as the jouney started to take its toll. The group was nearly wiped out by those terrible, spiney-legged creatures that used their own kinship against them. Only three finally escaped the deep, yet only two made it through the basin- the third, largest sibling, left to fight alone againt a hopeless battle, just to buy the others time. It was in greenpath, so close yet so far to their goal, that the second succumbed to the infection. It was a mercy killing, that nail through the heart. The last, after all of that, finally made their way to the very precipice of howling cliffs, hesitating for just a moment to gaze out upon the still-fresh ruins of hallownest. But only for a moment, before Ghost jumps down to begin their journey beyond this wretched place.

A vessel running from its shade as it tirelessly pursues them, the vessel refusing to put it to rest.

tw: suicide, + personal on main

Ugh ugh ugh ugh Either thk was fully conscious and in terrible pain for all those years... or they couldn’t feel anything at all. The former is horrible, but imagining thk waking up, chained, unable to do anything but wait for Ghost to heed their call? Did they turn their nail on themselves to help Ghost, end the pain, or some awful mix of both? For someone who has personally dealt with close friends and family that struggled with suicide themselves, hollowknight is one of the worst horror stories I've ever seen. And the fact that the story is so personal, so open to interpretation? The fact that each character is so genuine yet vague enough to be read completely differently to someone else’s biases? Its why hollow knight- the game, and the character- will forever be one of the most powerful stories to me.

in short, good LORD THIS GAME IS SO FUCKING SAD

#hollow knight #Thonking abt hollowknight #blabbing.txt #i should probably proof-read this.... uuuaaaah #anyways #@ that last one: i had to take a week-long break after tiso died. so like. you can imagine my reaction to thk #other than that some of these are VERY OLD #and dsfhhfdj the test one literally just occurred to me #sweet catharsis.... fuck you pk....#also.... yeah. vessels have a p bad time all considered #ghost is like 'i know i look 7 but im actually 1000 years old!'#then hornet punts them into the sun #OH WHAUFHDFKJ

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zenlesszonezero · 18 days ago

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As the conspiracy reaches its finale, the Void Hunter joins the fight.

Uncover the Conspiracy in Zenless Zone Zero's All-New Version "A Storm of Falling Stars", S-Rank Agent Hoshimi Miyabi is here! With S-Rank Agent Asaba Harumasa Limited-Time Giveaway! Pre-register to obtain additional rewards.

#Zenless Zone Zero #Miyabi #Harumasa #HoYoverse #zzzero #zenlesszonezero #Mobile Game #Anime Game #Gaming

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datawyrms · 5 years ago

Text

Sightseeing

Dannymay 2020 Day 28: Diner

Really, he should have asked Frostbite about good places to learn more about ghosts and the Ghost Zone before now, but it was always slipping his mind. Really, he almost never thought about just seeing the guy and his people without a problem biting at his heels. Which he hadn’t noticed until Jazz pointed it out, so that was a fun claw of guilt lodged in his brain now.

Which was why he was awkwardly trying to figure out how to ask a ghost what they heck they did just to ‘hang out’, and also did he want to do that. It wasn’t like he could just look up the nearest ghost diner. Trying to ask other ghosts really wouldn’t work out either, seeing as they either wanted to fight him or ran the other way.

At least the yeti-like ghost didn’t laugh at him for very long.

“I still don’t get it. Skulker will beat anyone’s face in for going near ‘his’ island, but there’s just places out here that make you stronger and no one fights over ‘having it’?”

Frostbite smiled at his question, though his ears did droop ever so slightly. “Such places are protected for that very reason, Great One. Eternal truces are in place wherever the flow of ectoplasm is at its strongest. All may benefit safely. They are for healing and social gatherings, not bickering and destruction.”

“You really don’t have to call me that.” Danny frowned, glancing at the spot on the map Frostbite was indicating. “That doesn’t really stop anyone from doing it anyway though, does it?”

“All ghosts know of the truce, and none would be able to break it. It’s said the Realms itself demands it be so. As we’re all made up of ectoplasm, many a ghost as argued we are merely extensions of it ourselves.”

“Well I certainly didn’t know about it. Must have forgotten to deliver the instruction manual to me,” he did his best to make his shrug seem casual. It wasn’t like the so-called truce protected him from Ghostwriter being an absolute pain after all. Maybe half ghosts didn’t count.

“It is a shame the portal you frequent is in that part of the Realms. It is more favoured by those with power and the will to use it, so it’s no surprise that you were so bereft of mentors,” he stared at the portal near the Keep before rolling the map shut with a practiced claw.

“Not that I spend much time here anyway.”

“True, true. You do seem to favour your human half, from what I hear.” He didn’t say it, but the concern was apparent. “I think you might enjoy the Cascade in particular. It’s relatively small and more of a resting point. Plenty of ghosts coming and going, no structures for long term stays, so it’s easier to not attract much attention.”

“Well it sounds fancier than a Nasty Burger.” Was it rude to be mentally associating the place with a fast food joint? Probably. “Maybe I should just check it out while invisible?”

“You could, though you’d probably be noticed anyway.”

“What, can some ghosts just see through invisibility?

Frostbite’s warm laugh took some of the edge off, but he still felt foolish. “No, but most can at least feel the strength a ghost has. One such as you or I would not go unnoticed for very long,”

“I’m not that strong”

“You forget that ghosts strong enough to stay in your world for any length of time are not as common as you think. Many here can only manage the basics, and are content as they are. Not many ghosts are brawling with those stronger than themselves only months after forming, Great One.”

He swallowed. Great. Even for a ghost he was weird. “I’d rather not be the center of attention, is all.”

“Understandable. It is not uncommon for I or my people to frequent these places. With luck I would be noticed with my larger stature and then overlooked.” he draped a fuzzy arm over the half ghost’s shoulder as a sort of hug. “You would draw some attention if noticed, but most would likely be too afraid to approach.”

“Afraid of what? You look way scarier than I do at a glance,” he asked even though he was fairly certain he wouldn’t like any answer his friend could give him.

“You are a hybrid that pushed back the former king and is powerful enough to hold territory outside of the realms. In frankness, a ghost like you is what’s hiding in the closet to scare the little ones into behaving. To the point that some actually do not think you exist.”

“Well that’s embarrassing.” he groaned, burying his face into the yeti’s fur. No wonder most ghosts ran the other way if he was some sort of made up nightmare monster. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Rumor is all most ghosts have of you. If you don’t want to be perceived that way, the best way to do that is to show them how you really are.”

Did he want to seem less frightening? He couldn’t really get to places this far from the portal without the Infi-map’s help anyway. He didn’t have the time to fly that far and back with any regularity, so it wouldn’t change much for the day to day. Yet Frostbite did seem eager to have him stop feeling so out of place in the ghost zone. “I guess. You’re sure it’s okay to go there?”

“It’s for all ghosts, don’t worry. Feel free to stick close to me if you are uncomfortable.”

He wanted to point out yet again he was only half of a ghost, but fiddled with his gloves instead. Frostbite was a large, powerful looking ghost with that ice arm of his. He was some human looking kid in a jumpsuit. Way less noticeable. Hopefully.

He did have to ask the yeti how he made traveling with the Infi-map less of an out of control ride and more like teleporting from place to place, but at the moment he was too distracted by why the place was called the Cascade. It almost seemed like a waterfall at first, the blinding neon green a flowing sheet, but there wasn’t a sort of pool at the bottom. Instead parts seemed to twist away from the main direction in vast swirls, losing vibrancy until he couldn’t tell it from the normal unending movement that was all over the zone.

That, and all the ghosts simply milling around the strange twisted trees and winding paths that flanked the glowing attraction. “Is it always this busy?” he muttered, half hiding behind his friend’s furry bulk.

“Of course. A safe place to rest when traveling between settlements is always fairly busy.” he looked down at the boy, concern muting his smile. “You’ll see why, or more feel it in a moment.”

He let Frostbite take the lead, trying not to look too jumpy as the ghost stomped down a path. Purple grass still seemed weird, but his chosen spot to sit down and watch the spinning ectoplasm did at least feel more familiar with it and the strange twisted dead trees.

“Is it normal to just feel less tired?” More than that really, he felt wide awake. When was the last time he’d felt this awake? He couldn’t actually remember.

“Yes. Though I expect the sensation might be odd to you. You spend so much time over there that I doubt you ever have enough ectoplasm to truly rest.”

It totally was a ghost Nasty Burger. Only apparently way more filling. There was a faint humming in his chest, which felt odd yet also right, somehow. “Huh. I figured that was just the lack of sleep.” He couldn’t help but keep glancing around, wanting to be sure they weren’t being stared at by too many ghosts.

“I’m sure that’s a factor as well. You really should try and rest more, when you can.”

He wasn’t quite sure how Frostbite could think of resting when he felt so energized, but zipping around near a bunch of ghosts he didn’t know didn’t appeal. “I would if I could, you know that.”

“Unfortunately. Do try and remember you don’t only have to rest as a human though.”

“I’ll try?” What else could he say?

#dannymay2020 #Danny Phantom #frostbite #my stuff #ghost headcannons #and other random junk #i wanted to have more ghost background chatter #but #i have to start working an hour early #so i do NOT HAVE TIME #rip

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margoshansons · 5 years ago

Text

Desperate Measures: 13/?

Masterlist

Summary: the hundred stands their ground and tries to save what little population they have left. Bellamy and Reader get separated.

Notes: this is the finale! if you want season 2 let me know but I’m gonna take a break for a while until the new year.

“You know the first thing I'm gonna do when I get to the beach?" Miller's voice wove itself through her ears, having moved up to the middle of the pack.

"No, what?" Y/N asked, letting out a hiss of pain as she dragged her foot over a tree root, turning to face her friend.

A smile burst across his face, "I'm gonna go surfing,"

She let out a laugh at the silly goal, wondering if it was a viable option on this hell planet. She had given up on those small dreams the moment Jasper was speared. She had so many. She wanted to climb a tree, go swimming, hike until her feet got sore. Instead, she was running from murderers with spears. The camp halted, and she caught a glimpse of Octavia's hand near the front of the pack

"What is it?" Y/N asked, pulling herself upward and releasing her grip on Miller's shoulder.

Jasper wondered the same thing, lowering his gun before asking, "Why are we stopping?"

"I don't know."

"I don't see anything."

Silence blanketed the group, soon broken as silver flew their way, a blade lodging itself down the middle of Drew's face, their position given away. Miller and Y/N shared a look before looking forward again, the crowd beginning to stir.

Jasper readied his gun, "GROUNDERS!" He bellowed, joining the rest of the gunners in protecting the camp as they scrambled back toward the dropship, back toward their safety net. Miller picked up Y/N in his arms, handing her off to Bellamy as the stampede persisted, taking his place next to Jasper as a protector of the delinquents.

The gate shut behind the last of the group, Drew's dead body collapsing to the ground as his eyes stared blankly upward, fear the last emotion he had felt.

"Where are they?" Bellamy asked, placing her down on the wall next to him, "Why aren’t they attacking?"

"Because we're doing exactly what they want us to." Clarke joined them, shooting Y/N a confused look at the closeness the two shared. She rolled her eyes, making sure Clarke understood that now was not the right time for this. They turned back to Bellamy, "Lincoln said the scouts would be the first to arrive."

Octavia piped up, "If it's just scouts we can fight our way out." She was ready for a fight, whether it was inside these walls or out, she wanted to fight something.

"I agree with Octavia," Finn commented, breathless from the run back "For all we know there's one scout out there."

Y/N rolled her eyes, "They’re grounders, do you really think they'd only send one?" Her words came out harsher than she meant to. She was tired of running. She was tired of hiding.

"Clarke, we can still do this." Octavia interjected, a pleading look on her face."

"Looking to you princess," Bellamy chimed in, sending an expectant look Clarke's way, "What’s it gonna be?"

Clarke locked her gaze with Y/N's, heart pulling at the sight of her injury. It was doubtful she and Raven would make it in the first place, but now? They needed rest, they needed to survive. She dropped from the wall.

"Lincoln said scouts, more than one," She reminded Finn, "He said 'get home before the scouts arrive' they're already here."

She sent a harsh look at Bellamy and Y/N before walking away to help Raven into the dropship. Y/N shared a smile with Bellamy, pulling herself up as they met each other's gazes.

"Looks like you've got your fight." She told him. He nodded, shouting orders at the gunners while Y/N hissed in pain, trying to ignore the bleeding coming from her leg. Just because it was good to walk on, didn't mean she should do it.

"Come on" Bellamy gestured forward, "We gotta get you to the dropship."

"Wait!" She stopped, tearing herself out of Bellamy's arms to approach Miller, pulling him into an embrace. "Don't die. Please."

"I won't" He promised before pulling away, playing lieutenant to the gunners of the camp.

"Come on," Bellamy told her, hitching his arm around her once more before dragging her into their new metal coffin.

***

"We've got 25 rifles with 20 rounds each, give or take." Bellamy explained, his eyes shifting back and forth between the table and Y/N, making sure she was okay, "Roughly 500 rounds of ammo." He explained to Clarke and Finn, placing his hands on the table, "While you two were gone we made some improvements, thanks to Raven and Y/N, the gully's mined."

"Partially mined," Raven spoke up, her voice cracking in pain, "thanks to murphy."

Anger stirred in his chest as he remembered the events of the morning, the asshole holding a gun to Y/N's head and forcing her to say things she probably didn't even mean. He shook his head forcing that thought out of his head as he returned to the problem at hand.

"it’s the main route in so if the grounders use it, we'll know." Bellamy explained, "They also built grenades."

"Not many," Y/N spoke up this time, hissing in pain, "Again thank you murphy." She gestured to her leg when she said that.

"We'll make 'em count." he promised her, "If the grounders get through the gate guns and grenades should hold them back."

"And then?" Clarke asked, as if there was any other plan.

"Then we close the door and pray." Y/N leaned against the table, finally able to walk on her injury. "It's the only choice we have."

"The ship won't keep them out." Clarke continued to protest, looking between the two leaders, as if there was some secret they refused to share. Instead, Bellamy locked eyes with Y/N, catching the determination swirling in her own while he contemplated the smirk that crossed her face.

"So we won't let them get through the gate." She told Clarke. Her confidence was almost enough to transfer over to Bellamy. Almost.

"You said there's fuel in those rockets right?" Clarke turned to Raven, ignoring the promise Y/N had just made. "Enough to build 100 bombs."

Raven shrugged, "I also said there's no gunpowder left."

Clarke shook her head, sending a blazing gaze toward the mechanic "I don't want to build a bomb. I wanna blast off." Bellamy furrowed his brow in confusion, watching the three women discuss their new plan.

"Draw them in close, fire the rockets," Raven muttered, a smile tugging at her lips.

"A ring of fire." Y/N whispered excitedly, her eyes lighting up at the prospect.

"Barbecued grounders, I like it."

"Can you do it?" Finn asked.

Raven and Y/N shared a look, speaking a different language than the others before turning back to the group, "You give us enough time, we'll cook em real good."

***

"Hey" Bellamy caught her by the arm as she moved to push herself into the bottom half of the dropship, "Be careful okay?"

"I will" She nodded, glancing at the gun he held at his side. "You too. You need to stay alive you hear me?" She pressed, her tone urgent. "I need you to stay alive."

He nodded, eyes flickering downward before his lips graced her cheek, the soft touch pressing against her, releasing unknown endorphins in her brain as she closed her eyes, leaning into the gesture. The two leaders stared at each other, unable to grasp exactly what that meant for each other.

"I had to do that." He whispered softly, eyes scanning her face as his throat moved up and down. "Just once."

"You're coming back." She assured him, both of her hands intertwining with his as their foreheads touched, eyes closed in prayer. "I won't let you die. I promise. I'll run down to hell myself and pull you back to the living if I have to."

Bellamy chuckled, meeting her gaze as the two broke apart, "Well, I'm glad to know I have my very own Orpheus ready to fight against Hades for me."

She playfully pushed his shoulder at the reference. "Shut up, you're such a nerd."

Their hands intertwined, the laughter died down as the sound of war drums was heard through the camp. She swallowed, her nervous gaze never leaving his own as he curled her hand against his face, pressing his lips to her palm before marching off to war.

The plan was going about as well as she expected it to. Raven couldn't move, so it left only her and Clarke to find the igntition system and get everything hooked up.

"You have to find the wire that connects the manual override--"

"To the electromagnet, I know" Y/N yelled up for the third time, finishing Raven's sentence.

"I thought engineers were supposed to know this." Raven joked, and Y/N cracked a smile at the attempt at banter.

"Just because we know the theory doesn't mean we know how to apply it." She admitted, searching the bottom half for the wires.

Raven paused before continuing, the silence lasting unusually long as she struggled to find the right words to say to the engineer. "I'm sorry Y/N." She spoke into the air, causing the other girl to freeze. Y/N sat on her knees, biting her cheek as Raven continued to rant. "I'm sorry I got your mom floated, I'm sorry I slept with Bellamy, I'm sorry I've been an ass since I got down to the ground. I'm sorry I didn't try harder back on the Ark, I'm just--I really need you Y/N, more than you know."

Silence filled the dropship, Clarke refusing to look at any of the girls participating in the conversation.

"You have so many people down here supporting you, and I just--"

A beat passed over the three girls. Y/N glanced upward, eyes locking onto the woman she had known since birth.

"Hey Raven?" She gulped.

"Yeah?"

"I forgive you."

Laughter floated down to the hull of the dropship as Clarke and Y/N continued, a smile tugging on their lips as Raven spoke up again. "That's a relief, I thought I had to let you sleep with Finn to even things out."

Clarke turned away at the comment, sending a shy smile to her friend before stripping another wire, the bright color a beacon of hope, "I found it!" She shouted upward.

"Now follow it to-"

"The override panel." Y/N finished examining the wire, her smile dropping into a frown, "I would except it’s fried. Totally useless." She let the wire drop down, hanging her head as her hands rubbed themselves on her knees in disappointment.

"You know how to splice a wire?" Raven asked, her voice seeming further and further away. Before any of them could respond Jasper's voice came over the radio, telling the gunners to hold their fire.

Raven's voice became reinvigorated as realization struck her, "Jasper can splice!"

Y/N grasped the radio from Clarke, pushing the button to call him, "jasper, we need you in the dropship now."

"Negative," Bellamy replied, "we can’t give up the west woods."

Y/N rolled her eyes, "The woods are mined Bellamy," She reminded him wondering why she fell for such a lovable idiot, "Now Jasper get in here."

It didn't take him long to splice the wire, and Y/N was almost impressed with the record time it took.

"Okay, got the good wire ready to graft on what’s next?" He asked, being met with silence. Y/N creased her brow as she turned her gaze upward, shouting through the hole in the ship.

"Raven?" She called still not getting a response. Worry panged against her chest, sending her heartbeat skyrocketing as she scrambled up, pushing herself on the edge, facing Clarke as she took the pulse of the now unconscious girl.

"Is she?"

"Not yet," Clarke assured her, worry still lingering behind her eyes, "but soon."

Y/N felt her breathing quicken, heart crushing itself at the thought of losing Raven. She couldn't. Not when she had just gotten her back. She pushed herself back down, looking Jasper directly in the eye.

"Finish it." She ordered before pulling herself up, scooting her legs out of the hole to stand up and face the grounders with Clarke.

"Current to magnet to valve to barbecue" Jasper repeated to himself over and over, the words fading as she met Miller at the front of the dropship.

He called out to the gunners, "They're gonna blow the gate everyone inside!"

"No" Y/N urged, knowing they needed more time, "gunners stay at your post," She shared a concerned look with Clarke before the blonde called out to the unarmed delinquents.

"the rest of you inside, now" She ordered, everyone following suit, their footsteps trampling against the silver protective metal. Everything halted as a boom rang from the sky, causing everyone, even the grounders to gaze up at the inky sky, multiple ships burning up from entering the Earth's atmosphere.

"Is that from the Ark?" Fox asked, her eyes wide.

Y/N stared up in awe, finally recognizing the shower of ships for what it was. "That is the Ark" She murmured, before heading back into the dropship, her hope restored. They weren't alone. They never were.

Marcus could be alive.

Vera could be alive.

Sinclair could be alive.

She joined Jasper down in the hull, helping him connect the wires to the necessary inputs and outputs while the grounder army grew closer. Miller's voice tore her from the now finished job.

"Clarke, Y/N, they’re taking down the gate." He warned, his gun clicking.

"Good," She pushed herself upward, carrying the remote with her, "cause we did it. We think."

She shared a hopeful look with Jasper before standing back up on the floor of the dropship, the pain in her leg nothing but a dull annoyance.

"I'm closing that door," Miller told her, as he walked toward the lever.

"Wait!" She called, pulling him back, an incredulous look crossing her face, chest tighetening as she realized Bellamy hadn’t returned yet. "We’ve still got people out there, Bellamy isn't back yet."

She and Clarke ran outside, yelling for everyone to get inside. The camp had erupted into full on chaos, the last of the gunners running into the ship as she scanned the horizon, almost missing him as he ducked back in from the bushes.

"Bellamy!" She called, running forward before being stopped by a charging grounder, Miller's rifle ending his charge and saving her. He grasped her arm, pulling her down next to Finn and Clarke. Their eyes met across the battlefield as Bellamy tried to race toward the dropship.

Toward Y/N.

"Bellamy run!" She called out in a panic, hoping her voice was loud enough to be heard over the raging battlefield. She couldn't lose him. Not after everything they'd been through. She needed him alive. She needed him.

Only one thought rang in her head as she forced herself to watch Bellamy's trek back to the dropship, mowing down any grounder that got in his way.

I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you.

He was her reason for living. He was her reason for surviving. He was the only reason she cared enough to stay alive anymore.

She sat there helplessly as Bellamy pulled out his gun on the leader of the grounder army, his gun clicking and Y/N's stomach dropped, her blood running cold as realized that Bellamy was out of bullets.

"NO!" She shrieked at the sight of the leader pounding Bellamy's face with the hilt of his sword. Bellamy stood helplessly as the leader continued throwing punch after punch, until eventually, he collapsed, "He's killing him" Her voice quivered, unable to stop the tears from gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Finn grasped a gun from the nearest delinquent, firing off a round as he ran forward to try and save Bellamy, Clarke's voice calling after him. "No Finn no!"

The two women watched as Finn tackled the grounder, giving Bellamy an open shot to lunge at the leader and land a few punches in.

Miller broke them out of their reverie, "Clarke, Y/N you can’t save everybody let's go." He pulled the two of them backward, scrambling to the dropship as Y/N sat there, Bellamy's gaze latching onto hers. Her eyes pleaded with him, told him he could make it. But his gaze was urgent, reminding her of the promise he had made before he left.

He wouldn't die.

And she would make sure of it.

He nodded toward the door, eyes softening as if to let her know it's okay. That he'd be fine. They will see each other again. Her heart thudded against her chest, the battle forgotten as she continued to focus on the fact that Bellamy wasn't going to make it.

"Now!" Miller fired his gun at the hive of grounders running through the almost empty camp, Clarke and Y/N pulling each other back into the dropship, the latter running toward Jasper to set up the ring of fire, while Clarke stood by the door, pulling the lever to close the door. It was official. Bellamy and Finn weren't going to make it. Something in her snapped, sending an uncomfortable numbness coursing through her veins, heart groaning in pain.

She had no time to focus on that though, because she was staring directly into the painted eyes of Anya, who had somehow managed to board the dropship at the last second.

"Y/N, now" Clarke ordered, never taking her eyes off the grounder. Y/N nodded, flipping the switch, reeling backward in shock as nothing happened. Jasper repeated the order out loud one more time and Y/N caught one word they had forgotten about.

"We need current." She spoke aloud, grasping onto the magnet as the rest of the delinquents turned their anger toward Anya, beating whatever strength she had left out of her.

Miller grasped a gun, pointing the barrel at the grounder, "She deserves to die" He yelled, malice lacing his voice. Clarke tore the gun away, four words dripping from her mouth, reminding them of who they were in the first place.

"We are not grounders"

Y/N connected the wires to the magnet, the ground rumbling underneath them as flames spewed out from every direction, burning every living thing in its path. She breathed a sigh of relief as the dropship fell on the ground once again, her leg pain returning as she drew in a sharp inhale. The doors fell open and she settled in next to Raven, unable to stand from the effort of the night.

Red smoke clouded her vision and her alarm bells went off. Unable to run anywhere, she pulled herself back underneath the dropship, placing the panel above her head as she ignored the burnt smell of rocket fuel filling her lungs, the smoke seeping through the cracks as she pulled Bellamy's jacket closer to her, snuggling into the warmth as her consciousness slowly faded away.

and we’re done!! I’m so happy to have finished this before the end of the year! Please remember that I am a human with a life and I cannot respond to people’s requests all the time. If you want me to do that, then you’d have to pay me and I want to keep this free.

Permanent TAG LIST: @begonbirds @iamaunicorn4704 @galacticstxrdust @darkcrystal-wolf

DM TAG LIST: @chloe-skywalker @im-a-writer-right @clarkewithameme @shatteredlovesick @your-typical-giggle @rhyxn @amongthewildthingss @furiouspockettoad @niammain @cxddlyash @lena-davina @kaylinfayezink @gingerxarmy @super-marvel-dale @travelnottogoanywherebuttogo @nerdbookish @valeskasecco @strangerliaa @simsvetements @molethemollie @thebookisbtr @im-a-stranger-thing @jordangdelacruz @oopsiedoopsie23 @multifandombookstore @okj232 @asian-male-enthusiast @minigranger @jooheonbee

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#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake imagines #bellamy blake #reader x bellamy blake #kane!reader #bellamy blake x kane!reader #franco!reader #bellamy blake x franco!reader #fic: desperate measures #series: desperate measures #bellamy blake fic #bellamy blake fanfic #bellamy blake fanfiction

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go-events · 5 years ago

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GO Rom Com Spotlight: @wyvernquill

The amazing @wyvernquill (also WyvernQuill on AO3) has claimed Ruby Sparks to adapt for Good Omens in the Good Omens Rom Com Event.

For reference, here’s a little background about the source material!

About Ruby Sparks: Young author Calvin Weir-Fields (Paul Dano), once a literary darling, is having trouble composing his next novel. Following a therapist's advice, Calvin pulls out an old manual typewriter and creates a vivacious, flame-haired woman he dubs Ruby Sparks (Zoe Kazan). Overnight, Ruby leaps from the page into Calvin's home as a real flesh-and-blood woman. And, what's more, she's unaware that she's actually a fictional character and that her actions and feelings are dictated by whatever Calvin writes.

We spent some time chatting about how the adaptation is coming so far, as well as future plans for it! Now, get to know @wyvernquill a little better!

* * *

goromcom: Let’s begin with what Tumblr can tell me about you. You know how if you open a Tumblr chat with someone you haven't chatted to before, Tumblr tells you two things they post about? I wanted to tell you that yours reports that you post "about #fanart and #illustration". I really admire people who can draw *and* write. Do you enjoy one more than the other?

wyvernquill: Oh, don't ask me to choose between my brain-children! I love both for different reasons, and find some ideas are easier to express in writing, others through drawing; though I also love to combine the two by illustrating my fics or writing something based on some random thing I sketched during class. (I'm also a very quick artist, while my fics tend to balloon out of proportion - so "doing a quick illustration in an hour" and "writing a 102k epic" are two very different and really rather incomparable experiences!)

goromcom: Oh goodness, yes. Two very different creative outlets! But for now, let’s talk about writing. You chose to adapt Ruby Sparks as your rom com. Has this movie been a favorite of yours, or is there some other reason you chose it?

wyvernquill: Cards on the table? I never heard of this movie before. I got very close to writing the fic without having seen it once, and only watched it a week or so ago. (And even then... it's not a *bad* movie, but, personally, I didn't grow attached to the characters at all. Just didn't really appeal to my tastes, I guess.) So, why Ruby Sparks?

Well, I made a List, capital L for significance. In the 12 hours before claims, I researched the plots of every single movie up for claiming - most of which I never heard of, clearly I don't watch enough romcoms - and categorised them into "absolutely not" "mmmmmaybe?" and "possibly", making my way through IMDB short descriptions and Wikipedia pages until the List was down to the top 10; most of which were movies I'd seen or at least heard of - except Ruby Sparks, which I chose for the simple reason that I'd ALREADY written an "accidental" AU of it.

The premise was exactly the same as roughly 3k of unfinished Doctor Who fic I scribbled together and never published, even though I was quite fond of it. I figured I could re-use my favourite elements of that fic, work off the base premise rather than the movie itself, and see where writing takes me.

goromcom: That is quite a ride! I’m a big proponent of re-introducing or recycling ideas or material that you find compelling but weren’t quite able to use before! It’s like, eco-awareness for your mind. :)

Given your history with this movie, this might be an odd question, but: What's your favorite moment of your movie, and are you looking forward to presenting it in your adaptation? Any loose plans for that scene that you can share?

wyvernquill: For reasons already outlined above, this isn't really based directly on any scene of the movie, but I think Aziraphale writing his idea of a "perfect husband" (and a progressively more thinly-veiled self-insert as the main character) will be a delight!

I greatly enjoy having the subjective perception of POV characters and objective reality be comically different - "I'm an excellent cook," he said, scraping the burned remnants of what could really no longer be called an omelette onto a plate - so I think I'll have some fun there. Maybe Aziraphale will defend his Artistic Vision (And Not Wish Fulfillment At All Shut Up) to someone? I'm not sure yet.

goromcom: I have a feeling I know the answer, but let me ask it anyway. Do you plan to stick very closely to the beats of the original story, or make bigger changes?

wyvernquill: Bigger changes, definitely. I might pluck an idea or two from the movie - and, surprisingly, the rough progression of events was pretty close to what I planned anyway - but it'll be rather different. (See next answer - I might well take more from Mary Shelley than from Ruby Sparks!)

Also, I'm still a bit undecided on this, but I might actually have Aziraphale publish some of his writing about Crowley from the start, something which doesn't happen in the movie until the very end.

goromcom: What's an interesting decision you've made in your planning so far--a notable casting decision, a changing of venue, or some other plan you have to paint Good Omens all over your rom com?

wyvernquill: Well, the moral of the movie was more or less that Writer Guy--no, I don't even remember his name!--has to overcome his controlling half-neurotic nature so he can be happy both among his more easy-going family and with the freespirited Ruby. Instead, I intend to have Aziraphale struggling a la Modern Prometheus (what does it mean to create life, to play God, to have a Creature that thinks for itself?), creating a subplot that is more overtly philosophical and thought-provoking, with a hint of religiosity - the essence of what GO is to me.(Meaning the final conflict will not be Writer Guy warping Ruby into a helpless parody of herself, but instead Aziraphale growing afraid of Crowley, who's beginning to show traits he never wrote for him, attempting to "erase" him again before he loses control entirely... but it all ends happily, don't worry! ;))

goromcom: Those are some pretty interesting ideas you’re playing with! I’m looking forward to reading it. But let’s not give too much away, and move on to my last question. I am blatantly stealing this from The Good Place: The Podcast, but here goes: Tell me something "good". It can be something big or small. It can be a charity you think is doing good work, or you can talk about how great your pet is.

wyvernquill: Oh, the temptation to talk about my four darling cats is Real(tm)... but instead, I want to give a little shout-out to the absolutely fantasticamazingbrilliant teacher at my university who offered a course on fanfic and fandom studies this past term, and who is letting me write my term paper on the Ineffable Fandom!!!

She's the best, lots of fun to discuss with, and research for the paper - deadline in two weeks, I've not yet started writing it, let's hope I get it finished speedily! - is an absolute delight.

(The only difficulty will be staying within the page limit... there's just so much to write about with this wonderful fandom.)

Her course was the highlight of my week, and fan studies (unsurprisingly!) turned out to be a field that really interests me. So thank you so much, Ms Fanfic Teacher, I'm very grateful for... just about everything!!! ^-^ <3

goromcom: That sounds like a fantastic class and an even better teacher. You have to admire the people who go that extra mile to inspire and lift up their students, and get them actually excited about learning.

And you know what else is going to be fantastic? The GO adaptation of Ruby Sparks, coming soon!

#goromcom #goromcom spotlight #good omens #wyvernquill #ruby sparks

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luckdogpuppy · 4 years ago

Text

Why I Hate Electronics

In the old days we had ms-dos and had to fiddle with config.sys and himem.sys spending endless hours and sleepless nights trying to get the computer to run a program. Computers have come a long way since windows 95 but using them certainly hasn’t gotten any easier. I remember wondering back then why they couldn’t make a computer that actually worked, that actually figured out how to make itself work and work with other programs and devices…after all, it is a computer, isn’t it? No, instead they just get more complicated and mystifying. Now its modems and routers and ethernets and wifi that drive me crazy, and trying to cope with constant buffering when I try to watch Netflix. Who the hell can remember which remote to use to access the right button? And when you do find the right remote to access your tv who can figure out how to get to whatever it is you need to fix? And how many fucking passwords can a person remember? And passwords have to be more complicated every year. I can barely use my phone, flipping from one screen to another with my finger. It seems the only way to get out of certain screens is to shut your phone off and restart it. And nobody tells you this stuff…you have to figure it out on your own. Ever read the Microsoft manual? Who does? Just looking at the pages makes me scream. And even when you go to Youtube they go so fast you have to pause it every two seconds to write that shit down. I have endless sheets of paper in a drawer filled with step-by-step instructions on how to do computer problems. Why? Why can’t computers do these things by themselves? The last time I lost my internet connection I got all excited when I discovered this thing on my computer that told me it would run a diagnostic of my system and troubleshoot it. Wow, that sounded great. When I went there and ran it it said “you have lost your internet connection.”

They say that computers can do everything, but they still haven’t given us a computer that can fix itself or even do something as simple as letting us plug it into a router without having to go through an eleven step process to get the damn thing to work. What pisses me off is that I know they could do this. I can’t even get my two wifi extenders to work. By some miracle I did get them to work for a while but one day they both just shut off and I haven’t been able to get them running since. I can’t get past the step where I’m asked for a password. It says I’m supposed to use the one on the back of the router. Well, what it says on the back of the router is “password: (leave the field blank)”. Except when I am asked for the password it won’t let me leave the field blank. Instead it says “your password is not long enough.” Then I’m told to go to my wifi icon on my taskbar to find out what the password is. But I don’t have a wifi icon on my taskbar. So I go online and find that there are pages on how to find and/or replace the wifi icon on my taskbar, and after going through all five of the different methods of finding and replacing that icon on the taskbar without success I learn that there is no way I’m gonna get that icon to appear on the taskbar because the Windows 10 system that came with my computer doesn’t come with a wifi icon on the taskbar; Microsoft removed that file in the latest version of Windows 10. I learn that I have to buy Windows 10 Pro to get that stupid wifi icon. Are you shitting me?

I finally did find an obscure site that explained a convoluted way to find out what your router and extender passwords were. You have to start with your command prompt to get there…but that didn’t help…surprise, those passwords there didn’t work either. And don’t even ask me how to go back there and look at those passwords again. It took me an hour to figure out how to get to my command prompt from my start menu. Hint: don’t left click like you’re used to doing. When you left click on the Start menu you are presented with a long and very impressive list of places to go, all in alphabetical order, and you would think that the “Command” prompt would be there under the “c” column. But no, there is nothing that says “Command Prompt”. No, you have to right click instead. You’ll find another list of places to go there. But even then there is nothing that says “Command Prompt.” You have to click on “run” for the command prompt to come up. There is a lot of shit you can do through the command prompt but nobody is going to tell you what the secret codes are that will allow you to do those things. It used to be easy to get to the command prompt. All you had to do was click on the “Start” button. But now they’ve decided to make this an hour-long quest to find it. I have all this shit written down on endless sheets of paper in that drawer. Truth be told this electronic world makes me tear my hair out. I hate it with a passion. What pisses me off even more is that I also love it…when it’s working.

I can’t even get my computer to recognize my own email address. I bought a new Dell desktop three years ago and still get a daily message saying that I need to fix a problem with my Microsoft account. So I periodically go through the process and change my password but no matter what I do I still get that stupid message. I even had Microsoft tech reps guide me through the process three times now yet I still get that same old message. And every time I try to access my Microsoft account I’m told “that email address is already used by a different account.” I deleted all my accounts and started over but the message still comes up…the problem remains. I’ve explained all this to those tech reps but nothing keeps that message from coming up. I even signed up for a different email address but that didn’t fix the problem either and now I have an extra “Outlook” email address that I never use and wouldn’t know where it is if I did want to use it. I think the problem started when I bought a new Dell laptop. I had to sign up for a Microsoft account then. But I didn’t care for the laptop and sent it back two days later and ordered the desktop…and now Microsoft still thinks that whoever owns that laptop has the rights to my email address and not me. I explained all this to those Microsoft tech reps but that didn’t solve anything either. Yeah, this stuff bothers me. I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t like loose ends. I like things to be neat and tidy and feel like everything is in its place. But this computer stuff feels all scattered and disconnected and just fucked up. I know it’s working on my mind even when I’m not struggling with it.

In order to fix my Netflix buffering problem (and my wife’s need to have internet access for her work-at-home job) I bought a new router. I’ve had the same old cheap router for 6 years so I figure its time for a new one. I did just buy a 40 ft ethernet cable that I plugged into the back of the router and ran it along the ceiling down the hall and into the back of the tv in the living room, but we’re still having problems with “Home not available” still coming up at times. I actually bought a new router last year; an Archer A7. But I was never able to get it to work so I had to send it back, thinking it must have been defective. I realize now that it probably worked just fine and that the problem was me…that I couldn’t figure out how to get it to work. Then I had a helluva time trying to get the old one up and running again. Did you ever feel that your brain was on fire and ready to burst? That was how I felt after struggling with those two routers for 3 days. So my new router came last week and it turns out it’s the same model; the same one I tried to set up and sent back last year. I thought it was a different one because it was called a Tp-link, but its actually an Archer A7 too. On the box it says it’s a AC 1900 and on the instruction sheet it also says it’s a MU-MIMO Wi-Fi Router, so just figuring out what these things are called is a science in itself. So now I’m frightened to death to even try to set it up. The first thing the instructions say is “if this” and “if that”…as if I know the answers to these ifs. There is also a long list of FAQs in case you have problems and need help. That scares the shit out of me, too, cause I know I’m gonna need help…and lots of it. Then it gives me three different methods of setting the thing up, all of them quite convoluted and requiring me to access various internet sites, SSIDs and wireless passwords. Then I have to go to a number url: 192.188.1.1 and I remember that this is where I had to go to get my extenders to work but I was never able to get those urls to come up. Then I found out that they only come up if you use Google Chrome, and of course there is nothing in the instructions that tells you you can only use Google Chrome. No, you have to find that out on your own too. So now I have to change my browser and come up with another password so I can access Google Chrome. I am so afraid that I will not be able to complete these steps correctly and that I will then have to struggle another two days to get my old router to work again that the new router is still sitting on a shelf two weeks later. I’m thinking that I should go to Best Buy and have the Geek Squad come and set up my router but I know I’ll have to listen to them explain their convoluted tech plan that will ask me to decide whether to get a one visit deal or buy a year subscription…and I know one visit will not fix all my loose ends. And it makes me wonder if that is the reason why computers intentionally aren’t made to fix things.

Oh, by the way, I’m sitting here writing all this down with my Microsoft Word, and now I find that I am unable to save what I’ve written because I don’t have a subscription to Word any more. I guess my free time is over. God, don’t you love it? You can’t even buy a computer with a simple word processor in it without having to pay a yearly fee to use it. Next thing you know somebody will figure out how to put a chip under your skin that measures how many breaths you take so they can charge you for the air you breathe.

Dear Lord, if reincarnation is real please let me go to a world that is either before computers or way beyond computers. Or better yet, where computers and routers and extenders actually use a computer so they can work together.

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ephemeral-afterlight · 5 years ago

Text

Day 2: Explosion

(We’ll tear out our hair.)

Whumptober 2019 Day 2: Explosion

Word Count: 4363

Relationships: pre-relationship/pining logince

Warnings: explosions, very very minor body horror (machines connected to the inside of the body), minor panic attack, death mention, killing spree mention. that should be all, but let me know if i need to add something!

A/N: so i have no idea why this got so long, but... here you go! i’ve wanted to do an androids au for so long, and then it just... happened. i didn’t plan any of this in the slightest, but have this trash anyway.

The boom that resounds for miles across the city shakes Virgil to his core. The frequency grates on his ears, how it echoes between skyscrapers and resonates through his head. His hearing goes muffled, for a moment, like he’s stuck his fingers in his ears the same way he used to when he was a young, petulant child. It’s hard to stay standing, when it feels like gravity has increased its pull on his body ten times over, but Virgil manages to stumble to the side and brace himself on a bike rack. His vision blurs, shifting in and out of focus, unable to come to a standstill through his lightheadedness.

Things come back slowly, beginning with his eyesight; the image in front of him clears up, merges into one, and he’s now able to observe the people running away in terror, their screams not reaching his ears. Then, his cognitive thinking; being able to process the situation flushes his system with a new wave of anxiety and dread, and he turns to look in the direction opposite of where most people are running, unable to comprehend what he’s looking at even as he sees the massive cloud of smoke and flying debris erupt from the center of the building he was just inside of. His hearing is the last sense to recalibrate itself, the sounds of the world around him slowly building in volume until they’re normal, but loud, too loud, and Virgil coughs around the dust that whisked its way down the street in the split second he wasn’t paying attention.

Now that he can clearly hear the shrill screams, the sirens echoing from streets away, the honking of car horns and fire engines and loud, raucous noise, Virgil turns back to look once more at his office building, and his breath gets stuck in his throat after a particularly painful inhale. The skyscraper is toppling over, the metal and glass shattering and creaking as they fall out of line toward the street Virgil’s on. Another cloud of dust and probably worse things he doesn’t want to enter his lungs is coming his way, billowing down the street at a pace that leaves no room for compromise.

Fuck.

It takes a long few moments for Virgil to regain control of his body, a panicked whine tumbling through his lips against his will as he finally turns away and stumbles forward. A second blast rips through the street, much closer this time, and Virgil can feel his heart lurch in his chest. He almost trips on the curb, having forgotten that he’s been on the edge of the sidewalk, but pushes himself back up with the help of a post office box. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know where to go. What was he supposed to be doing, again? Is he going to suffocate in the dust and debris because he can’t remember how to get to somewhere safe? Is another explosion going to blow up right on top of him?

“Hey, dude! You gotta get out of the road, you’ll die out here!” someone says to his right, over the sound of a car engine rumbling. Virgil whips his head around, met with the spectacle of a bright red coloured car with multiple young adults crammed inside of it, and he doesn’t know how to respond. He only gapes, mouth falling open as if to say something, to ask for help, but he can’t speak.

“Oh no, are you alright, kiddo? Do you need some help?” says the guy on the passenger side, of whom apparently poked his head over the driver’s seat to be heard better. The driver scowls and softly slaps his buddy’s face away, sticking his tongue out when an affronted squawk is vocalized in response. He rolls his eyes and turns back to Virgil, beckoning with sparkling golden nails in the direction of the backseat.

“If you need a ride, come on, but hurry the hell up and make a decision! I am not gonna get blown up because of you! I have a performance soon and I cannot shine on stage if I’m a pile of dust on this gross street corner!” Driver Guy shouts, and Virgil shuffles on wobbly feet to the backseat door on autopilot. He should think this through more, should consider the fact that maybe these guys are predators, that they’re gonna kidnap him and torture him and then he’s gonna get murdered, but his brain is halted and not functioning correctly and this is the best chance Virgil’s got. Well, it’s better than staying on the street bumbling around without a clue as to what he’s supposed to be doing, anyway.

Sliding into the backseat takes only a few seconds, and he pulls the door shut, and then he’s being lurched backwards as the car takes off. He’s inside, away from the dust, but he still can’t breathe, and it must be obvious to the guy sitting next to him, because he adjusts his glasses as he reaches over to lay a hand on his shoulder. Virgil jumps, staring at the person beside him with cautious eyes, and his lungs burn.

“I’m Logan. You are having a panic attack. I’m going to squeeze your hands now, is that okay?” the man beside him asks in a monotonous voice, face impassive but eyes sharp and cunning and concerned. There’s something off about him, something that tickles in the back of Virgil’s mind, but he can’t pinpoint it. Swallowing back a cough, Virgil nods slowly, and with the affirmation, Logan reaches over to grab Virgil’s hands, far more gently than he would’ve expected, given the bespectacled stranger’s cold demeanour. The pressure helps to ground him, acts as an anchor point while he remembers to control his breathing, to follow Logan’s pace.

“Dude, you alright? You better not pass out in my car,” the guy in the driver’s seat complains, and Virgil’s eyes flutter as he squeezes Logan’s slim fingers tightly. The latter of the two blinks hard, and his pupils dilate, and he tilts his head, and Virgil finally gets it. He’s an android. Even so, it’s a wonder his microexpressions are impossible to read--he must be consciously controlling them to calm them down. He’s likely a mental health android, then. Virgil relaxes a little bit, and grips Logan’s fake, warm hands as they round a corner just a little too fast. There’s a little bit of comfort in the familiarity of the android’s synthetic skin.

“Uh, no… where are you taking me?” Virgil answers when he remembers how to speak, voice wobbly as he fights back to keep his anxiety under control. The driver breathes out through his nose in a quiet, huffing laugh, and his passenger turns fully around in his seat despite how dangerous it is to do so, with how recklessly his friend is driving.

“We’re going to an AnRAD Center, kiddo! Logan’s had a bit of a shutdown since the explosions scared him, the poor thing. And you need to get that dreadful cut looked at. Oh, by the way, I’m Patton!” the guy says cheerfully, seemingly ignoring the noise of the third explosion behind them even as something… odd flashes in his eyes. At his words, Virgil lets go of Logan and lifts his hand up to feel the wound on his forehead that adrenaline made him unaware of before. Bringing his finger down to inspect it with blurry vision, Virgil can barely make out a liquid on his fingertip. It’s sticky, and smells bad, so it’s obviously blood. This is the first time he’s ever gotten a cut. Oh god, is it gonna kill him?

“My name is Virgil. But… but I’m not an android. They can’t…” Virgil trails off, his thought process becoming hectic as the lightheadedness comes back full force. It’s hard to concentrate, to process anything that’s happening, and he can only clutch Logan’s hand as the car is finally pulled to a smooth stop in front of an AnRAD Center, one that he doesn’t recognize because of its proximity to downtown. The bright red “Android Repair and Diagnostic Center” sign flashes distractingly in his peripherals, but right now, he’s only focused on maintaining his breathing.

“What? Wait, what are you ta--” Patton cuts himself off, eyebrows furrowed as he thinks. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open as he turns to the driver, and he lets out a noise of disbelief. Said driver brings his perfectly manicured glittery nails up to rest on the back of his own seat, then quirks a perfect eyebrow as if to nudge Patton into an explanation. “Roman, is he a IM60X? I thought those weren’t even in development yet! And to release him with his server receptors disabled... that’s not only irresponsible, it’s against the law! Virgil, where did you come from?”

An… IM60X? What...what the hell is that? What is this guy talking about? Can he not see that Virgil clearly isn’t an android? What’s all this talk about server receptors? Virgil doesn’t understand, he can’t think, why is it so hard to jus-- just-- thi-- think-- th-- th--

His vision goes dark.

System error…

Accessing directory “Virgil V3”...

Unable to access directory “Virgil V3”.

Troubleshooting…

Running program “failsafe.exe”...

“failsafe.exe” is attempting to run unknown program “reset.exe”. Program will be terminated and placed in quarantine.

[MANUAL OVERRIDE ; CLEARANCE: AnRAD Boston C29433121P:Valley, Rachael N.]

“reset.exe” has been placed on program whitelist. [AUTHORITY ; AnRAD Boston C29417D:Director White, Allen M.]

Running program “reset.exe”...

Stopping program “ToT_v2.1.exe”...

Stopping program “eMotion_v6.12.exe”...

Stopping program “SoCue_v9.3.exe”...

Stopping program “Neuron_v5.exe”...

Shutting down all external processes...

Shutting down all internal processes...

[EXCEPTION: “andev_server.exe”, “darkroom-version-5.exe”=hidden]

Establishing server uplink…

AnDEV server uplink failed.

Troubleshooting…

Enabling AnDEV server receptors…

Process unsuccessful.

Resetting AnDEV server receptors…

AnDEV server receptors reset.

Enabling AnDEV server receptors…

AnDEV server receptors successfully enabled.

Establishing server uplink…

AnDEV server successfully linked.

Sharing diagnostic data with nearest AnRAD terminal…

Diagnostic data successfully shared.

Sending diagnostic data to ‘AnDEV Boston’ for troubleshooting…

Diagnostic data successfully uploaded.

Initiating cooldown sequence…

Running program “andev_restore.exe”...

[MANUAL OVERRIDE ; CLEARANCE: $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

“andev_restore.exe” has been placed on program blacklist. [AUTHORITY ; $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

Running program “christine-level0.exe”...

“christine-level0.exe” is attempting to run unknown program “darkroom-version-5.exe”. Program will be terminated and placed in quarantine.

[MANUAL OVERRIDE ; CLEARANCE: $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

“darkroom-version-5.exe” has been placed on program whitelist. [AUTHORITY ; $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

Running program “darkroom-version-5.exe”...

Disabling AnDEV server receptors… [AUTHORITY ; $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

AnDEV server receptors successfully disabled.

Attempt to delete core process “servrec.exe” terminated.

[MANUAL OVERRIDE ; CLEARANCE: $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

Deleting “servrec.exe”...

“servrec.exe” successfully deleted.

Running program “Awaken.exe”...

Enabling all internal processes…

Enabling all external processes...

Running program “ToT_v2.1.exe”...

Running program “eMotion_v6.12.exe”...

Running program “SoCue_v9.3.exe”...

Running program “Neuron_v5.exe”...

Running program “LookingGlass_v2.4.exe”...

Running program “Wavelength3.exe”...

Running program “Autonomy_v1.17.exe”...

Running program “5sens.exe”...

Software successfully reset.

Hiding process prompts...

Awakening…

A gasp flies out of Virgil’s mouth as he tries to lurch forward, wrenching his arms away from the cold grip they reside in. When they don’t move, and are only met with resistance, he starts to panic, flailing in a feeble attempt to escape. His senses are attacked with bright lights, moving blurs, the sound of voices and the whirring of machinery. There’s something on his head, in his head, but he can’t move, so he can’t figure out what it is, and that only speeds up his hyperventilation even more.

“--rgil. Virgil!” a voice says harshly to his left, and calloused hands hold his arms in place. He doesn’t like being held down. He doesn’t want to be stuck, trapped, let him go-- “Stop! Calm down, you’re fine. Nobody’s gonna hurt you. You’re at an AnRAD center, and you’re connected to an AnRep frame. You have to calm down, or else you could damage your body or the frame. I doubt you’d be able to afford to reimburse us for it, so please, stay still.”

It’s what appears to be a woman, and now that Virgil’s vision is focusing in, he can see that she’s wearing a lab coat and pointy glasses. She seems to be young, with curly red hair and hazel eyes and a small scar under her left cheekbone. Now that he’s looking around, he realizes that Patton and Roman are also here, the former of which gives a small wave. Roman is sitting with Logan in the cubicle beside them, and is holding the android’s hand gently as he seems to go through diagnostics and internal repairs.

“B-But AnRep frames are only for androids. What-- How am I here? What’s going on? Why is there something in my head?!” Virgil rushes out, panic twisting its way into his words and tone. The lady (whose nametag says “Rachael”) clicks her tongue with furrowed eyebrows, and simply hums as she leans forward to press a few of the brightly coloured, unlabeled buttons on the side of his AnRep frame. An odd feeling washes over Virgil right after Rachael scoots in her rolling chair back to her previous position, an unfamiliar, cool balm to the heat in his brain. But… he’s hooked up to an AnRep frame, isn’t he? What’s to say he even has a brain? Oh god, he’s going to be sick. Can he even get sick? What is going on?

“You’re an android, Virgil. In fact, you’re a model I haven’t seen before, since its hardware hasn’t even passed the testing phases yet. I don’t know who made you, or how you’re out in the world at all, but what I do know is that whoever built you? They’re a genius,” Rachael answers, curiosity and excited intrigue weaving through her demeanour, in a way that shows so plainly in every jittery gesture of her hands and the shine in her wondering eyes. She clearly is interested, so Virgil assumes that this is something she’s passionate about. Then again, would she really be working a full-time job at an AnRAD center if she didn’t care about androids? “Their work is extremely sophisticated and distinct, but I don’t have anyone else to compare it against. Both your hardware and software are special in their own ways, but that honestly means nothing if the creator’s style doesn’t match anyone I know.

“Now, while I am really impressed by your creator’s work, they also have disabled and permanently deleted your AnDEV server receptors and their associated programs, which is irreversible by someone with my clearance level. Unfortunately, I don’t know if the Director White will make a special case for you to restore their function. I… I suppose I can just leave it like that, if you feel there’s no need to bring the Director into this. As long as you haven’t been convicted of any crimes, it isn’t… well, it isn’t strictly necessary to have the uplink.”

Even with the soothing medicine (?) administered through the AnRep frame, Virgil’s head still feels like it’s spinning, and it’s so hard to concentrate for long enough to understand what Rachael is talking about. His head lolls to the side momentarily, and he takes a deep breath (he still needs to breathe, right?), and then he straightens up once more. “What… what are the-- the server receptors, anyway? What do they do?”

“Oh! Sorry, I should have explained that right off the bat,” Rachael exclaims apologetically, brushes a lock of hair behind her ear as she turns to the monitor beside her. She types something that Virgil can’t see, quick strokes upon plastic, a clicking and clacking that echoes, echoes in his head. “Your server receptors are what establishes a link between your computer and the AnDEV servers. It holds your memories of development, allows you access to the cloud, will automatically connect you to the internet and let you browse internally, lets you make phone calls without an actual phone, etcetera, etcetera, you get the point. Disabling an android’s server receptors can be a really bad thing, especially if most of their memories are stored in the cloud rather than locally. The purpose of storing memories in the cloud is to make sure that if your body and the computer inside gets heavily damaged, to an irreparable state, your memories and artificial consciousness can just be uploaded into a new body, easy as that.

“Now, androids are, at default, set to create a copy of everything you’d store on your local drive and upload it to the cloud, so that if you get into a situation where your server receptors are damaged, infected, or disabled, you’d still be able to retain your full consciousness and access memories even while disconnected from the main servers. However, for a lot of androids, sometimes copies aren’t made because the setting to do so automatically has been changed and they aren’t aware of it. Unfortunately, this usually leads to androids who have been damaged beyond repair having what is essentially amnesia. An artificial personality is extremely difficult to replicate, especially without access to their memories and the data for how their demeanour and behaviour has evolved past their original model. Loved ones, in these cases, often consider the android to be ‘dead’ outright, as all that is salvaged is often far different than the android they knew before.

“As for you, Virgil, the problem is that your server receptors have never even been enabled before. You’ve been without access to the AnDEV servers, obviously unaware that you’re even an android at all, which, as you know, became illegal after the Harry McCain incident. I know this is all a lot to process, and it might take a while to adjust, but you’re doing a lot better than I expected. Let’s just hope you don’t go on a crazed killing spree, too, hm?”

And Virgil… doesn’t know how to reply. He doesn’t know what to think, doesn’t understand, he just wants to go home. He wants to leave, and sleep, and never come back here. He wants to forget this ever happened, drill into his head and pull out anything that could remind him of this. The knowledge that he’s not as human as he previously thought, that instead of flesh and blood he’s made of microchips and wires, it’s… he could have died out there today. He could have been reduced to a bunch of scrap metal in the street and he would have been none the wiser.

“What-- what were the explosions earlier?” Virgil asks, struck by how fake his voice feels now that he knows he has a speaker instead of vocal chords. Although he’s still confused, and there’s something connected to his skull, he settles back into the AnRep frame. It’s at an odd angle, not fully vertical but not horizontal enough to really lay down, and Virgil hates how it feels off balance. He wants to relax, and that’s probably not going to be something that comes easy again for a long time, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still make an attempt. “The ones in the building and the street?”

Rachael stops typing, fingers poised above the keys just centimeters away from touching the surface. The digits curl into loose fists, fall slowly to rest on top of the keyboard, and the woman turns to give Virgil a strange look. She glances away, swallows hard, opens her mouth to say something despite nothing coming out. Virgil glances at Roman, who is still sitting with a deactivated Logan, but who’s now observing their interactions with some sort of weird look, too. What is up with everyone right now? Is Virgil going crazy or something?

“We… don’t know yet,” Rachael says carefully, slow and measured in a way that’s so transparent as to its intent. She’s hiding something, but won’t tell Virgil for some reason, and it just serves to counteract whatever it was she gave Virgil to calm him down. The woman’s hair bounces as she whips her head up to stare intently at her monitor again. She purses her lips, taps absentmindedly at the corner of the desk the screen rests on. Rachael looks as if she’s reading something important, but it’s almost like she’s trying too hard to look natural, to cover her discomfort up and make it look like absolutely nothing’s wrong. Virgil’s hands shake where they’re attached to the AnRep frame, restless and anxious. (Is that intentional? Are androids supposed to be able to get twitchy? To get anxiety? Is this all just simulated? Are his emotions not even real?)

“Oh,” Virgil mumbles, sighing shortly as he returns to his previous task of inspecting his body. He looks normal, feels normal other than the machines attached to his limbs. Virgil glances up just in time to see another employee walk up to reboot Logan, putting in various strings of text that might be passwords into his terminal. At another tap of a key, Logan’s eyelids flicker over a blank stare, and then he wakes up. His head pulls up smoothly, tilts when he looks around with big, curious eyes as he processes his environment and the people around him. It’s kinda cute, actually, when his gaze lands on Roman and his lips quirk up into a tiny smile, how he laughs silently at Roman’s flustered blush even as he blinks hard to do what Virgil assumes is a system checkup, of sorts. It’s something all androids do upon awakening; they scan their softwares, their drives, anything and everything to make sure that there aren’t any viruses or errors or corrupted files that could potentially bug their system. Wait, will Virgil have to do that now?

“When… can I leave? I want to go home,” Virgil asks, pleads, almost, and Rachael looks back up at him, seemingly returned to normal. She huffs a laugh, rolls her chair over to press a few buttons on the AnRep frame, and then the sound of something being depressurized comes from behind Virgil’s head. He startles, almost wants to yank his body away to get away from the danger, but there isn’t any danger, so he forces himself to stay still. The process of the machines removing themselves from the insides of his limbs and head is just about the strangest thing Virgil’s ever felt, and it’s crazy, because he can feel it. He shouldn’t be able to feel the parts twisting and turning inside of his arm, shouldn’t be able to perceive that there is metal detaching itself from the back of his head, but he can. If Virgil weren’t still freaked out about this whole “you’re really an android, not human like you’ve thought literally your whole life” thing, he’d be amazed at how modern technology has evolved to be so advanced that he actually believed he was a real, living person.

“You’re free to go, Virgil. Just sign the form the receptionist gives you on your way out and you’re good to go. But please, all I ask is that you come back sometime within the next couple months for another checkup, just so I can make sure that everything is working properly,” Rachael asks him, concerned in her words and her eyes, and Virgil just wants to leave. He nods out of courtesy but then walks away without another word. God, why did this have to happen today of all days? Why can’t the life-changing realizations come on a different day than the one where he almost dies to an explosion in his office building?

“Hey, Virgil, wait up!” a voice that Virgil recognizes as Patton calls, huffing little breaths as he runs to catch up. Roman and Logan aren’t far behind, although Roman is far more concerned with making sure Logan is in condition to walk by himself than with Virgil. (Logan… is an android. Of course he can walk okay. He just got out of repairs and diagnostics, he’d know if there was something wrong with his legs. Roman should know this, given the fact that it seems he has an immense crush on the android, but Virgil supposes he can’t rag on the poor love-struck fool too much for it. It is a sweet gesture, no matter how unnecessary it actually is.)

“You need a ride home? It’s just, I know you don’t have your car, and I-- well, at least I hope that we’re better to ride along with than the bus, so…” Patton trails off, scratching sheepishly at his arm. He scrunches his freckled nose when the scent of chemicals wafts into their path, sticks with them as they walk by as quickly as possible. Once they’re clear of the smell, and the front desk is in front of them, Patton looks at Virgil once again and gives him a grin.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Virgil replies with uncertainty, and he glances back at Logan and Roman again, the former of which is completely oblivious to Roman’s “inconspicuous” attempts to hold his hand. Virgil just shakes his head in amused disbelief, finding it funny that he could meet so many new, weird people in one day because of something that was likely to have killed him had they not helped him out of it. They’re all, like, trauma-bonded now, or something. Virgil can’t help but snicker to himself as he signs the last paper with trembling fingers. “Thanks for… all of this. For helping me. It was… alright of you.”

And Virgil flinches when Patton lets out a bubbly giggle and latches onto his side, begrudgingly relaxes under the arm slung around his shoulders. He ignores the whole “android” thing for now, puts it out of his mind in favour of quietly laughing at how Roman’s dramatics juxtapose Logan’s somewhat reserved yet endeared behaviour. His body isn’t real, it’s made out of metal and wiring and computers and codes, but he still feels warm with the other three’s banter as they walk out of the front doors of the AnRAD center, so he thinks that maybe it’s okay to just be human for a little while longer.

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but-thats-its-own-story · 6 years ago

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Nemesis, SOMA, and what Weller is saying without saying: A Nightmare-Fuel gen:LOCK Theory/Essay

[Spoilers, for gen:LOCK through episode 5, and for the psychological horror game SOMA (and minor spoilers for an older season of CW’s The Flash)]

First, let me start by saying gen:LOCK is fantastic, and I can’t wait to see more.

Part of what makes it, or any show like it for that matter, so fantastic, is the use of background detail to reveal incredible amounts of information before it’s necessarily relevant to the plot. That way when it does become plot-relevant, it feels like it’s been there all along, because it has.

Sometimes this is overt, like Migas hinting at Chase’s wings, or Cammie considering how to modify her holon’s legs to better suit her (despite both of these modifications already being revealed in full during the opening credits, which makes the choice to make them slow reveals of information we already have an interesting one).

Other times it’s subtle. Like Valentina being very specific about which variant of their name Kazu uses, because they switch names when they switch genders.

Here I propose to use background information of both kinds to predict the origin of Nemesis. The origin. Not the identity- that’s all but been revealed to be Chase.

But not our Chase.

At least...

Not anymore.

Forgive the obligatory pun here but I’ll cut to the chase; If you’ve played or watched a playthrough of SOMA you likely see what I’m getting at:

I theorize Nemesis is a copy of Chase’s mind from an earlier attempt at gen:LOCK that wasn’t properly erased from the “always-on network between all uploaded minds” when his mind was downloaded back into his physical body. Somehow the Union managed to hack/hijack this network and download this copy into their own prototype holon, potentially modifying it to suit their needs.

For those who haven’t played/watched SOMA, I’ll briefly explain:

The protagonist of SOMA goes in for a new type of brain scan, then suddenly wakes up in an unfamiliar setting (in a broken down underwater facility, to be specific). He soon learns that he is not who he thought he was, but a copy of his mind produced by the brain scan, downloaded into a robot body by a rogue AI decades after his original self’s untimely death. Later, he uploads his mind into yet another new body, only to learn, to his horror, that while the upload successfully copies his mind to a new body in what he initially believes was a data transfer, his first body still contains his pre-upload mind. He has, in effect, created a copy of himself, and as far as the original knows, the upload was a failure as he is still in the same body.

What brought this comparison to mind, aside from both gen:LOCK and SOMA being centered around brain uploading as the primary plot device, is the process by which in-game the protagonist of SOMA uploads his mind: a minigame in which the player must synchronize two oscillating wavelengths representing signals; one for the source of the upload, and one for the destination.

My theory is that gen:LOCK works the same way, despite Dr. Weller’s seeming assertions to the contrary.

Seeming, because I believe he’s already admitted this to be the case.

The devil’s in the details:

One of the first things Weller says is that he’s tried cloning himself. I don’t think he was talking about his body; rather that he’s attempted to copy his mind.

When Weller exposits about the abilities and limitations of the holons, he mentions that the pilots only have one mind, as “it’s not as though he’s making backups”. Why might he even suggest that possibility, if it weren’t possible, due to a pilot’s supposedly singular mind being transferred back and forth? Except he never says “transfer”; only ever “upload” and “download”- actions which are not transfers at all, but copies made from and back to an original source, respectively, in the latter case overwriting the original (We’ve already seen that in code form, not only can the digital minds be rewritten, entire memories can be erased outright).

The neuroplasticity requirements. Because people’s brains aren’t perfect storage devices. After enough times storage is overwritten, they begin to degrade, like a hard disk. Aging out. “As many happy returns as possible.”

Speaking of which... Second Birthday.

The day your second self--- your copy ---is born.

But Nemesis doesn’t call it Second.

“You haven’t shut up since your birthday.”

He’s talking specifically to the Cammie in the holon.

“Copy... Kill copy...”

He’s talking to a more recent copy of himself.

From his perspective the current Chase is the copy.

When the pilots upload, their bodies go dormant. When they download, the holons go dormant. But what’s really happening when either body wakes up is that the most recent version of the pilot’s mind is synced to that body.

That is, after all, the purpose of the device gen:LOCK takes its namesake from: to synchronize two signals. But there are two signals. Two different versions of the same mind. And if they grow too out of sync, they’re no longer compatible. Like an old OS that hasn’t been updated in so long that it can no longer be updated to the most recent version.

Weller tells the pilots this as he wishes the new recruits a happy second birthday- as the camera pointedly focuses on him manually enabling the “maximum safe upload count”.

“As many happy returns as possible.”

But what happens if a pilot exceeds maximum uptime? How did Weller figure out that there should be safety protocols to prevent this from happening, lest the mind becomes incompatible with its original body?

The answer? My guess is that it happened to Chase already.

And here’s the kicker:

Let’s say Chase learned the hard way that his uploaded mind was no longer compatible. What’s to say Weller didn’t just tell him everything would be fine, before erasing the copy from the holon, and waking up the pre-upload chase with no memory of any of it ever happening?

But what if that copy wasn’t fully erased. What if it remained on the “always-on network” in some form, realizing what had happened, and watching himself, (and eventually the others) copied back and forth again and again, moving on as if it never happened, powerless to stop it or reveal the truth.

This alone would be enough to drive a “copy” insane (see: Savitar from the CW’s version of the Flash), but we’ve already seen how easy it is to modify a traumatized digital mind into a “near-psychotic feedback loop.”

Nemesis sure looks “near-psychotic” in his initial appearance...

(They showed us the effect it had on Cammie for a reason...)

One last thing: Similar to the term “holon” being taken from a book discussing the concept of mind-body duality, but literally referring to “something that is both whole itself and part of a (greater) whole”, the term “Nemesis” has a deeper meaning;

For the most part we’ve come to think of a nemesis as an archenemy to a hero.

The original Nemesis was a deity of vengeance; retribution personified.

Let the good times roll...

#gen:LOCK #SOMA #Theory #The Best Defense #Nemesis

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i-am-thedragon · 6 years ago

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Repairs

Here’s a DHMIS fanfic I wrote back in March 2016, but never uploaded for whatever reason. I recently rediscovered it and I’m posting it now, because I’m on a bit of a DHMIS kick and I honestly miss being active in the fandom. I considered editing some bits of this fanfic, but I decided to leave it as is in all its “my pretentious 2016 writing style” glory. Also note (to those unfamiliar with my fanfics) that I referred to the characters as Red(Redmond), Donnie, and Crowe at the time, before their names were confirmed(?) as being ‘Red Guy’, ‘Yellow Guy’, and ‘Duck’.

Story description: After the events of DHMIS 4, our three beloved protagonists are left with an aggressive (but slowly dying) computer they do not know what to do with. But of course, one puppet’s trash is another’s high-value collector’s treasure. 6331 words, mild mentions of gore.

Without further delay, here is Repairs.

Donnie stood silently in the hall, pouting at a seemingly inconspicuous closed door. The door led into the games room, in which the board games, the laptop, and other knick-knacks were kept. The child let out a whine as he slouched forward unhappily, his orange nose almost touching the door.

His attention turned to the sound of approaching footsteps from the end of the hall. It was his friend Crowe, peering at him with curiosity.

“What’s the matter?” The green-feathered duck asked. “Why in the world are you staring at that door?”

He had a feeling, however, that he already knew the answer.

“I wanna play Money Win.” Donnie grumbled, scuffing his foot dejectedly on the ground. “But the scary computer’s in there.”

“Oh, he’s not that scary.” Crowe responded with a chuckle. “He’s just a box of gadgetry, all made up of buttons and wires!”

“Well if you’re not scared of him, why don’t you get the Money Win game for me!” Donnie retorted somewhat defensively. “…Please?”

The smile was wiped from Crowe’s beak as he thought about actually going in there. He didn’t want to admit it, but Colin the Computer did unnerve him. The ‘games room incident’ had only occurred a couple of days earlier, and that room had been an unpleasant place to be ever since. Whenever someone went in there Colin would act up, making strange noises and asking increasingly nonsensical questions like “Did you drink a orange today?” or “How many egg are you?”, and growing unpredictable and aggressive. Still, it wasn’t like he could get hurt in there, right? Colin was just a bunch of buttons, wires, and circuits after all.

“Alright, fine!” Crowe huffed. “But I get first turn when we start playing!”

Crowe tried to hide his hesitation as he turned the door knob and pushed the door open. The games room stood before him, in its usual presentable state. On the table in the center, however, stood that computer, gazing back at him with gritted teeth and that square-eyed stare. Traces of a mysterious dirty-yellow liquid trickled from his eyes and mouth. Colin began emitting a low-quality whining noise upon being noticed. Crowe gulped as he stepped inside. Lucky for him at least, the board game he was after was on top of the shelf right near the doorway, so he wouldn’t have to pass Colin to get to it. Not so fortunately, it was far too high for him to reach.

“I’m sorry, Donnie, you’ll have to ask Red to get it.” Crowe spoke, shaking his head.

Donnie simply gave a sad nod and walked away, leaving Crowe alone. The bird’s attention wandered to the desk at the other end of the room, on which sat a quill and ink. One of his beloved possessions! Oh how he’d missed it those past few days. Crowe wanted it back… But he had to make it past Colin first. Surely that wouldn’t be a problem, or so he hoped. With slow, steady steps, he paced past the table. When he glanced at the computer watching over him ominously, the two locked in a gaze. It seemed Colin’s stare was growing more malevolent and his voice increasing in pitch and volume with each passing moment, until he finally snapped.

“WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT MEEEEEEEEEE-“

Crowe nearly jumped right out of his feathers before turning and bolting out of the games room, slamming the door shut behind him.

At that moment, Red and Donnie entered the hallway, stopping when they noticed how panicked their friend looked.

“It’s the computer, isn’t it?” Red sighed.

“Well, I uh, I got a little startled, that’s all!” Crowe squeaked shakily with a sheepish grin.

Donnie folded his arms with an ‘I told you so’ smirk as Red pondered what to do.

“I think he’s dying anyway.” Red decided with a shrug. “Just leave him ‘til he stops moving and making noises.”

“So… No Money Win?” Donnie asked.

“Not yet.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A few days passed and Red simply couldn’t handle it. He hardly cared about that creepy computer anymore, he needed his laptop. He longed for that pristine screen, those data-filled files, that sweet, sweet, internet connection. Colin could scream and flail all he wanted, Red was getting that laptop back.

Upon opening the door, Red was greeted by a warbled screeching as Colin flailed his cord-like arms around. That nasty yellowish substance was still leaking from the computer’s eyes and mouth, staining the tablecloth. Red knew that Colin hated him the most, and was particularly aggressive in his presence.

The long-haired figure ignored the screeching and flailing, turning to a nearby shelf and gently removing a closed laptop from the top of it. What a superior piece of technology it was. While he was there, Red also collected Crowe’s quill and ink from the desk and the Money Win game from atop the shelf. He would come for the rest later. Colin’s screeching tried to form itself into words, but all that came out was an enraged digital mess.

After pushing the games room door shut with his foot, Red trudged into the living room and placed the board game on the book shelf.

“I wonder if Donnie will notice it’s there when he comes back into the living room.” Crowe chuckled, watching Red from his rocking chair. “He’s in his bedroom playing with his toys at the moment.”

“Oh, I got this for you.” Red stated, turning around and holding out the quill and ink.

The duck sprung from his chair and darted over gleefully, taking his beloved possession with a smile.

“Ah, thank you so much!” He exclaimed. “I heard that nasty computer screaming bloody murder while you were in there. Golly, that must have been frightening!”

“Not really, it’s not like he can do much other than that anymore.” Red replied with a shrug. “Give him a few more days and he’ll be pretty much dead. Anyway, I got our laptop back, too. I really need to check my emails.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A few further days passed. Although he rarely admitted it, the deep web was one of Red’s favourite places to explore. That’s where a lot of the stranger sites were. He wasn’t into the completely depraved and grotesque content, of course, but by now he was mostly desensitised to it anyway. Red mostly came across websites made by people with unique obsessions; the kind of people with entire websites dedicated to rocking chairs and video segments of themselves describing and analysing every chair in their collection.

It was one of those sort of sites Red had come across that evening, one made by someone with a deep fascination with old computers. He shook his head as he scrolled down, wondering how anyone could deal with so much painfully outdated technology. Whoever this person was, they possessed not only a large collection of those vintage machines, but just about every manual or advertisement piece relating to them. Clicking on a page for any of this person’s computers would lead to long page with in-depth descriptions of its history, functions, maintenance, and so on. Perhaps it wasn’t so much how frighteningly comprehensive the site was that made Red just a little uncomfortable, but rather the sight of all those old, outdated computers. They all reminded him so much of Colin. Still, credit due where credit was due, he was impressed with the effort the owner of this site had put into it.

Red was thinking of logging off for the evening when he came across something that made his heart jump. On a web page detailing the few vintage computers not in the site owner’s possession, there was an advertisement with an all too familiar face on it.

“It’s that darn thing in the games room…” Red muttered quietly to himself, taking a sip from his mug of coffee.

The advertisement, scanned from some old magazine or newspaper, featured that blocky machine with those square eyes and gritted teeth.

The Smart Boy Industries ALL NEW Computery Guy!

The pinnacle of modern technology! Comes with Doors ∞ pre-installed!

Can count at incredible speeds, tell the time with pinpoint accuracy, and remember personal info!

All thanks to Smart Boy Industries’ patented DIGITAL MIND!

Now Red was both disturbed and curious. He wanted to know more about the digital beast terrorising the games room. Luckily, this deep-web site didn’t fail to deliver.

I’ve been wanting to get my paws on one of these beauties for ages, but I don’t think it’ll happen. I’ve searched far and wide all over the web, but no-one’s selling one! I wouldn’t blame them, really. Can you believe only 50 of them were ever made? They were discontinued pretty quickly after their release on June 19, 1985 and became a real rarity. Chances are most, if not all of them, have either been thrown out or simply stopped working by now. The Computery Guy line was incredibly controversial due to the inclusion of the ‘digital mind’- A piece of REAL brain or brain-like tissue that was supposed to make the computer smarter and more functional. I can see how that raised a lot of ethical issues. In fact, three months after the release of the Computery Guy they were banned in 19 countries. Smart Boy Industries took a huge hit from the controversy, they almost got shut down entirely! I am fairly sure they’re still around, but much smaller and they don’t make computers anymore. I heard they do make printers and other electronics now, though. Anyway, here are some of the Computery Guy’s unique functions…

Red didn’t read beyond that point. That computer was a rarity? Possibly the last unit of the model! That wasn’t what surprised him the most, though. Colin essentially had a real brain. That might have explained some of his odd behaviour.

“Red, may I use the laptop briefly when you’re done with it?” Spoke Crowe from nearby, startling Red. “There’s an old song with a title that escapes me at the moment. I was hoping I might find the answer online.”

“Sure.” Replied Red. “But first, you should take a look at this.”

He swiveled the laptop around and showed it to his friend. Crowe looked at the screen with disgust at first, then the same morbid curiosity Red had felt before.

“I’m surprised anyone would want one of those.” The bird scoffed. “Though I suppose ours isn’t exactly… Functioning properly.”

“I wonder what the computer was like in his better days.” Red thought aloud with a shrug.

“Where did you find this anyway?” Crowe asked. “Have you been exploring the deep web again? I heard it’s a dangerous place.”

“Relax, Crowe, it’s just a site about old computers.”

“How much do you think this person would pay us for our Computery Guy?”

Red did a double-take upon hearing that question.

“You think we should sell him to whoever owns this site?”

“Yes. Well, we need to get him off our hands somehow. And surely you know by now that disposing of computers and other electronics in landfill is terrible for the environment! Besides, if this mysterious person is that much of an avid enthusiast for vintage computers, we should get quite a bit in return.”

Red dwelled on the idea for a silent moment or two. Receiving Colin could make this person’s day, or possibly ruin it, too. Either way, they’d probably pay big money for him. Unfortunately, it seemed the Computery Guy in the games room was in his final days anyway. While a non-functional model might still be worth something, he probably wouldn’t be worth a whole lot.

“Alright Crowe.” Red decided. “I’ll see if I can contact this person tomorrow. Whoever they are they need to know what they’re getting into, first.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hello. My name is Redmond. I was browsing your vintage computer website the other day and I saw you had interest in the Smart Boy Industries’ ‘Computery Guy’. It looks like you haven’t updated your site for quite a long time, but I was wondering if you were still interested in owning one. My friends and I have one in our games room we’ve been meaning to get rid of, and we were thinking you might be interested in buying it. Unfortunately, the computer is pretty broken at this point. Please respond if you’re interested.

-Redmond

Red sent the email to the contact address given on that deep-web site. He hoped he would get a reply within the following week or two, but if not, then so be it. It was worth a shot regardless. He ended up receiving a reply early the next day.

Hello Redmond! I’m Pillars Cloudfoot. I’m very excited about your offer! I’ve yet to make contact with someone owning a Computery Guy, let alone someone offering to sell theirs! Wow!

Which one is he? Someone on one of my forums told me they all have a unique name- Caleb, Curtis, Clyde, Carl, Chris, Connor, Colin, Cameron, Craig, Colby, Clarence, Calvin, Corby, and Claude, to name a few.

Don’t worry about him being broken, I’d imagine they all kicked the bucket a couple decades ago. Even if I can’t find a way to repair him I’ll be glad just to have him in my collection. All I ask is that you show me a photo first, just so I know you’re being legitimate about this. Don’t take it personally, there are just too many scammers out there, y’know?

-Mx. Cloudfoot

Red was pleased with the response he received. This ‘Pillars’ seemed like a pretty decent person, and they were certainly happy about the offer. When Red stepped into the games room with his laptop in his hands, Colin began emitting a low, droning whine comparable to a toy with a low battery. Other than that, though, he didn’t do anything. He simply sat in place, his jaw hanging open and his eyes filled with malice despite his drooping eyelids.

“Be quiet, you won’t have to deal with us too much longer.” Red said as he turned the laptop to face the computer.

He clicked a button and took a photo of Colin using the laptop’s in-built webcam. The image quality wasn’t too great but it was good enough, and it saved Red having to get the camera and go searching for the USB cord to connect it to the laptop.

Looking at the photo he’d just taken, and then back at Colin, he realised just how much of a nasty condition the computer was in. Remnants of a strange yellowish fluid had dried in his mouth and eyes, and in pools beneath him, and his face seemed stuck in a weary but vicious scream. The grainy quality of the photo didn’t help. Red had a feeling Pillars wouldn’t appreciate that.

Thanks for responding to my offer. I’ve attached a photo of the Computery Guy- His name is Colin- and as you can probably tell he’s not in such good shape. I should point out that he wasn’t originally ours, he appeared in our house less than a fortnight ago out of nowhere and was actually mostly functional at the time. We’ve no idea where he came from or who owned him before us. All we can tell is that Colin was really aggressive and kind of rude, too. He managed to scare all three of us. That’s why we’re selling him. I hope that doesn’t put you off buying him, Pillars. It’s not like he can really do anything now anyway. I’ll try to get that dried fluid cleaned up, too. I don’t know what it is, though.

-Redmond

A response came only several hours later.

Yikes! I see what you mean! Good grief, poor Colin!

Actually, you have me very curious and a bit concerned. If what you say is true, Colin’s been functioning for almost three decades! Incredible! But you said he was aggressive? How so? From what I know the Computery Guys were never meant to be aggressive or disobedient in any circumstances. That’s really strange. Now that he’s dead you can’t run diagnostics, but I think you should take a look at his digital mind anyway. Just see if anything looks abnormal.

In case you don’t know how, here’s how to get the digital mind out:

Press the green, red, and blue button on the back of the monitor simultaneously, hold for six seconds, and then turn the knob beside it until you hear a click. That should eject the digital mind cartridge. You can open the cartridge to inspect the digital mind but I highly recommend not leaving it open for too long. It’s bad to expose the digital mind for too long. Then slide the cartridge back in when you’re done.

I’ve also attached a couple of scans uploaded to one of my forums. You’ll probably need to take some bits apart to properly clean Colin so these couple of pages from the manual should detail how to do that. Apparently Smart Boy Industries knew the Computery Guys were prone to small leakages around the eyes and mouth, but I don’t know how yours got THAT bad.

-Mx. Cloudfoot

Cleaning all that bizarre dried gunk off Colin would give Red something to do over the weekend. Maybe Donnie and Crowe would help, though he wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t want to. Heck, even he was hesitant about touching Colin again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Donnie peeked his head through the doorway timidly, gripping at the door frame with his fingers. He watched as his two best friends sat themselves down around the table with a toolbox, the laptop, and some rags and cleaning supplies. The child nervously eyed the subject of interest, the now lifeless computer in the center of the table. Colin was still in the same state as when Red last saw him, only quieter. His jaw still hung agape, his eyelids droopy and his cord-like arms limp. That residue around his eyes and mouth only made his appearance more morbid.

Red began by placing one hand on top of Colin and firmly grasping the computer’s jaw with the other. With a pull and a slight jiggle, the jaw detached and Red handed it over to Crowe. Without a word, Crowe began cleaning Colin’s jaw, scrubbing away the mysterious yellow residue from between the teeth. Red pulled a screwdriver from his toolbox and began unscrewing the frame around Colin’s monitor. That part needed to be removed so Red could properly clean around Colin’s eyes.

Donnie watched on with cautious curiosity. Even if he wasn’t as afraid of the computer as he had been before, he still didn’t want to be in the same room as him. Besides, cleaning dirty computer parts didn’t sound like much fun anyway. It was rather interesting to watch, though.

Red and Crowe finished cleaning Colin more quickly than they had anticipated. Red had expected those strange leaks to have from a bit deeper within Colin, yet neither he nor Crowe had any luck finding the source of it. It was if the substance had just appeared at the computer’s eyes and mouth. As red screwed the frame of Colin’s monitor back on, Crowe spoke.

“Weren’t you advised to check the digital mind?” He reminded.

“I was about to get to that, actually.” Red answered.

Red placed the screwdriver back into the toolbox and turned Colin around. As told by both Pillars and the instruction manual scans, there were three buttons- a red one, a green one, and a blue one- and a knob beside it, among other things. As instructed, Red held down the three buttons simultaneously and waited.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six!

He then gently turned the knob beside the buttons until a loud click broke the silence. A small compartment had ejected itself slightly from the back of Colin. Red carefully pulled out a box-shaped cartridge about the size of the palm of his hand. It felt… Sticky. When Red turned the cartridge over to investigate, he found traces of dark crimson residue built up on the underside. He sighed as he thought about how he’d have to clean that too, but in the meantime he needed to check what was inside the cartridge. Without wasting any more time, Red opened up the cartridge, and he and Crowe peered inside.

What they saw was not what they expected. Inside the cartridge was a small piece of brain-like matter covered in crimson slime. It had broken, frayed wires protruding from it and a cluster of off-colour boil-like growths on the front of it.

“Oh, that’s… Something.” Crowe remarked uneasily. “Well, you know what Pillars said, you ought to put that back. All this exposure won’t do it any good.”

“Hang on, can you take a photo of it with the laptop first?” Red asked. “I’m not sure if this is right, I should really show it to Pillars and ask for their opinion.”

He had reason to feel that something wasn’t right, too. The digital mind he held looked nothing like the one depicted in the instruction manual scans. Even if the one in the manual was only a stylised interpretation, it looked a lot less off than Colin’s.

Red held the open digital mind cartridge in front of the laptop’s webcam as Crowe took a photo. Then the cartridge was closed and Red began to clean that build-up off the bottom of it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Thanks for the manual scans, they helped a lot. Pillars, I’ve cleaned Colin out and I took a look at his digital mind. I attached a photo of what I saw. I get the feeling something’s a bit off about it, but that could be just to do with age. Do you think that might be why Colin acted aggressively? When we found him he was singing, but he interrupted a lot and wasn’t a good listener. He kept asking a load of really irrelevant questions and completely flipped out when I hit his keyboard. There was also some stuff involving warped reality, existential crises, and my head exploding, but I won’t go into detail. Anyway, I thought I’d make sure you knew fully of Colin’s condition before we negotiated a selling price.

-Red

…Oh boy. Redmond, that digital mind is an absolute wreck. Now, I’d expected the Computery Guys’ digital minds to deteriorate over time, but this looks like more than time-related deterioration. Looking at this photo you sent me, I wonder if Colin’s previous owner took Colin’s digital mind out of its cartridge, poked it with their unwashed fingers, threw it at a wall, and spat on it. Heck, that wouldn’t explain half of what I’m seeing.

Redmond, don’t even put that back into Colin. If you already have, consider taking it out and throwing it out. Heck, if I were you I might even burn it. Yikes, it’s no wonder he was acting up.

Well seeing as though the digital mind is a no-go, there won’t be any way for me to fully repair Colin. No big deal, though, as long as I have the rest of him in my collection I’ll be happy enough. What a shame though, with proper maintenance Colin could still be functioning today. There’s no way of getting a replacement digital mind now. Smart Boy industries apparently offered replacements at the time, though.

Also, I ought to mention that I’ll be gone for a week. My birthday’s coming up and I’m going on a little holiday with some family, so I won’t be able to keep in contact after today. Until then, all the best to you and your friends!

-Mx. Cloudfoot

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Even though it was of no loss to him, Red couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed by the turn of events. It did seem like quite a shame that he had to give his online acquaintance a dead computer that could never be fully repaired, even if they were happy to accept it. Still, anything to get Colin off his hands and out of the house was good enough. Not that Colin had been a threat in the slightest since he stopped functioning, mind you. All Red and his friends could do until Pillars returned to the web was wait.

Red tapped his foot lightly to an imaginary rhythm as he channel-surfed from his green armchair. Crowe was outside with Donnie lighting a bonfire in the backyard, so they could 'properly dispose of' Colin's old digital mind. Red wondered if perhaps he should’ve be out there with them, making sure they didn't burn down the yard and half the countryside with it, but Crowe insisted he had everything under control. As Red contemplated the current situation, he gave a heavy sigh. Not a saddened or frustrated sigh, but an 'oh well, what'll one do about it' sigh.

“Are you okay, Red?” A voice suddenly spoke, startling Red.

Donnie must have heard the sigh, as he now stood at the other side of the living room with his head tilted in curiosity. Red hadn't even heard him re-enter the house.

“Yeah.” Red replied with a shrug. “It's just a bit of a shame we don't have a digital mind for Colin, that's all.”

Donnie couldn't quite comprehend why Red would want to but a brain back into that nasty broken computer. Colin was far better off without one! Without a digital mind he couldn't frighten anyone or ask too many strange questions. However, the boy had trust in his friends above all else, so Red surely had a good reason for what he wanted.

“Why don't you just get another one?” Donnie asked innocently.

“They stopped making ‘Computery Guys’ a long, long time ago.” Red explained, scratching his head. “Back then Smart Boy Industries probably had replacements, but there's no reason for them to still have any if no-one's using Computery Guys anymore.”

Donnie nodded in acceptance of the explanation, but his brow was scrunched up in doubt as he pondered it. People were still using the Computery Guy! He and his friends were, at least. What reason did Smart Boy Industries have to not keep the replacement digital minds around, just in case?

“Anyway, how's the bonfire going?” Red asked, interrupting Donnie's train of thought.

“Good!” The boy replied. “But I think Crowe needs your help. He's having trouble getting the computer brain to melt like it should.”

Red switched off the television and stood up from his armchair, figuring whatever was going on out there was probably much more entertaining than the re-run rubbish being passed off as television. Watching the tall, hairy figure leave the living room, Donnie thought of a plan. A rather simple one, but a plan that wouldn't hurt to try- Though there was the risk of losing his pocket money for nothing.

Donnie tore a piece of paper out of one of his empty scrapbooks and grabbed a green crayon. He thought for a moment about what to write, before putting the crayon to the paper and beginning his message.

Dear smart boy industrees

My name is Donnie and me and my friends have a computer guy. his name is Colin. his brain was broken and he needs a new one. May we please have a new computer brain for Colin?

From Donnie Gribbleston

The boy held up his letter and looked over it with a smile and a nod. He was sure this would do just fine, he just needed to figure out where to send it. 'Smart Boy Industries', he'd heard Red and Crowe mention a few times. Where had Donnie heard that name before, or rather, seen it? The printer, of course! The games room printer had 'Smart Boy Industries' written on the label on the back of it. He'd discovered that when he'd accidentally locked himself in the games room several months back and needed something to pass the time. He'd spent hours investigating the room's most easily overlooked details, before realising the games room door didn't even have a lock.

However, despite his naivety and childlike foolishness, Donnie could be quite clever when he needed to be. After fixing a spelling error in his letter, he took the unoccupied laptop from the living room and opened it up. Searching up 'Smart Boy Industries' wielded a variety of results, such as the company's sketchy history, the range of products they didn't offer, and about a dozen product recall articles. One result, however, was the one Donnie was looking for. It was the company's website, and on it was a list of operating locations. Taking a note of the address of the nearest location, he closed up his work and put the laptop back in its resting spot before continuing with his plan. After shoving the creased scrapbook paper and a pocketful of pocket money into an empty envelope, the boy scrawled the address, along with his own, onto the back of it and headed outside.

Crowe poked impatiently at the cartridge with a stick as flames flared up around it. Nasty crimson goo leaked from it, producing a horrible smell in the heat of the bonfire.

“It just won't burn!” The duck growled, smacking the offending object repeatedly with the stick in frustration.

“It's been in there for too long.” Red replied casually. “Maybe we should just call it quits and bury it, or throw it into the ocean.”

Just then, Donnie walked by with his bicycle, but his two friends didn't pay him too much mind.

“I'm just going to go post something.” He stated. “I'll be back soon!”

Red nodded and continued watching Crowe roll the digital mind around in the bonfire, inspecting it for any signs of fire damage.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A few days later, a package arrived at the friends' front door. It was fairly small and had arrived entirely unexpected to Crowe, who had found it on the doormat. He cautiously picked it up in his feathered hands and inspected it, wondering what could possibly be inside, and from whom it had come. When he found the name of the sender, his eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and mild fear.

“Red?” Crowe called out. “Red, I think you should see this!”

Sensing a slight urgency in his friend's tone, Red made it to the front door fairly quickly, where he saw the duck holding a small package in his hands.

“Oh, who's it from?” Red asked, unperturbed.

“Smart Boy Industries!” Crowe replied.

Now Red could see why the duck seemed a little bit worried. Red had only recently been involved with anything relating to the company, and he wouldn't have thought they had even known about it, let alone cared. Perhaps they had caught wind of the attempted revival of perhaps the last remaining Computery Guy, and it was enough to elicit a response from them. He just hoped this package wasn't a bomb, or anything else malicious. Stranger still was who, specifically, the package was addressed to.

“Donnie?” Red called out.

“Yeah?” The child's voice called back from another room in the house.

“There's something here addressed to you, some sort of package. What have you been doing?”

There was no verbal answer from Donnie, only the quick pattering of footsteps as he hurried over to the scene. When he saw the package, his face lit up with excitement.

“It worked!” He exclaimed. “It’s here!”

“What’s here?” Crowe asked sternly. “You haven’t been using Red’s credit card again, have you?”

Donnie snatched the package from Crowe’s hands and tore it open before the duck could protest. From the tightly-wrapped cardboard box he produced a styrofoam casing, and from the styrofoam casing he pulled out a very familiar-looking beige cartridge.

“Wait, is that…?” Red asked, his eyes wide in disbelief. “I thought we threw that into the ocean.”

“No, it’s a new one!” Donnie corrected.

“What?” Crowe squawked. “How did you get Smart Boy Industries to mail you a digital mind?!”

“I asked nicely.” Donnie replied with an innocent smile. “And I gave them my pocket money.”

“Never mind that.” Red spoke. “I just want to know if they actually sent us the real thing, or they’re just humouring us.”

The games room door gently creaked open, revealing the somewhat familiar scene of Colin’s lifeless form resting upon the table. As lifeless as he was, that mild aura of unease remained. Red approached the computer with the cartridge in his hands, but hesitated to insert it. The cartridge looked just like the one he had pulled out of Colin several days back, but it seemed so much… Cleaner. There were no leaks or sticky residue. With noticeable apprehension, Red gently pulled the lid of the cartridge open, allowing himself and his friends to peer inside.

The contents of the cartridge were very different to what they had seen before. While Colin’s digital mind had been a mess of wires, boils, and mysterious fluids, this one was clean. It was simply a small pink brain-like mass wrapped in a teal wireframe. It was a real digital mind, just like the one Red had seen in those instruction manuals.

Red clicked the cartridge shut again, heeding Pillars Cloudfoot’s advice not to expose it for too long. Without another word, he inserted it into the back of Colin, where the previous digital mind had once resided, and turned to his friends.

“Well, I guess Pillars will be happy to hear that we-“

In the middle of the sentence, Colin abruptly began emitting a cheery chiptune song that nearly startled the three friends out of their skins. Red jumped back from the table, fearing the computer would grow aggressive once again.

However, once the cheery tune ended, Colin did not yell, or even speak. He opened and closed his eyes and mouth a few times, lifting his cord-like limbs and then resting them at his sides. His eyes shifted back and forth, observing the surroundings, before resting on Red and his friends.

“Hello!” Colin greeted. “Thank you for choosing the Smart Boy Industries Computery Guy. My name is Colin, and I will be your guide into the digital world, a place of information and fun for the whole family! Before we begin, please enter your name. Then I will tell you some more about myself, and we can continue your registration of the Smart Boy Industries Computery Guy.”

Red, Donnie, and Crowe exchanged frightened glances. They hadn’t expected Colin to come to life again! Though they hadn’t expected him to reset, either. The computer that had once loathed and terrorised them was now happily introducing himself like a new acquaintance.

“Redmond Spaghett.” Red answered nervously.

“Hello, Edmond Spaghetti!” Colin greeted. “Is this name correct?”

“Wait, wh- No. It’s not.”

“Please repeat your name, or use my keyboard to type it in.” Colin suggested, pointing his blocky hand at the keyboard rested in front of him.

Red reached forward, hovering his furry hand over Colin’s colourful keys. The computer’s eyes were locked onto the hand, watching, waiting for him to begin typing. Red, however, decided not to risk it. Colin might have been reset, but he wasn’t ready to trust him again just yet.

“Redmond Great News Spaghett.” Red repeated clearly.

“Hello Edward Great News Smith!” Colin greeted again. “Is this name correct?”

“Yeah, Cloudfoot’s going to have a riot with this one.” Red muttered, turning to his friends.

“Great! Would you like to save this information before we continue, Mr Smith?” Colin asked.

Red shook his head and sighed at Colin’s misinterpretation of his words. He thought about responding once again, but he stopped himself, seeming lost in thought. After a lengthy moment of contemplation, Red spoke again.

“Actually, you don’t belong to me, or ‘Edward Smith’.” Red stated, reaching his arm around to the back of Colin

“I’m sorry, I do not understand.” Colin responded. “Please repeat your response, yes or no, or type ‘yes’ or ‘no’ with my keyb-“

Colin’s arms fell limp and his eyelids shut as Red pressed his power button. Now the computer was just as lifeless as he had been mere minutes ago, but functional.

Crowe watched skeptically as Red slowly and shakily lowered Colin into the large cardboard box.

“I don’t understand.” The bird stated, scratching his head. “Mx. Cloudfoot would’ve paid goodness knows how much money for this… Thing, and you’re simply going to give it to them?”

“Yeah.” Red responded bluntly. “For good karma. Maybe if we do something kind we’ll get some peace from the you-know-what for a while. That, and I don’t want to wait for Pillars to get back, then go through all the price negotiations and whatever, to get rid of Colin.”

Crowe folded his arms and rolled his eyes as Donnie rocked back and forth restlessly beside him.

“I guess it’ll be a birthday present for them.” Red continued, filling the empty space around the computer with styrofoam beads. “I might throw a few birthday candles into the box too. Anyway, this has all just gotten too strange for me. I wanna get it over and done with, payment or no payment. For all I know Colin could still be, well, Colin, and I’m not the kind of person who makes people pay for things that are out to cause pain. Unlike whoever sold us that clock in the living room.”

Red sealed the box up and began labelling it with the address given on Pillars Cloudfoot’s website. As Donnie grew bored and left the room, Crowe hung his head somewhat dejectedly.

“You know what, Red?” He began with a sigh. “I think I might miss the old Colin a little. Sure, he may have been aggressive and incoherent at times, but he had personality, and that’s not something one gets from computers very often.”

Red finished packing and labelling the computer and turned to face the duck.

“Shut up, Crowe.”

#dhmis #don't hug me i'm scared #colin the computer #dhmis colin #dhmis fanfic

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synaps · 6 years ago

Text

Story Telling Game!

Ghost Blade is a German-made game for the Dreamcast. It’s a shmup, meaning it has no plot whatsoever unless you read the game manual. I chose not to, because it’s more fun to make up the story yourself based on the bits and pieces you can get out of the gameplay. Ghost Blade gives you three playable characters, a war of some kind, and a brief title for each stage of the game and that’s it. I worked with that, and for the final touches I checked the manual to get the characters’ names. Here’s what I ended up with! It’s short and pretty good, please read?

Ghost Blade pilots, left to right: Mimi, flying the Milan V1 Stella, flying Ghost Blade Spectre 3 Rica, flying Rekka Unit 1 (in my retelling cast as Shira the AI) Stage 1: Ghost Installed Mimi is a veterinarian, not a fighter pilot. Her younger sister, Vala, was the fighter pilot. Vala, who was bubbling and brave and believed she could make a difference. When their family received the news that Vala’s ship had been destroyed and Vala herself captured by enemy forces, Mimi does not hesitate: she applies to have the Ghost installed. Ghost is a cyber weapon programme spearheaded by Stella, the fearless hero Admiral who leads her troops from the frontline like a warlord out of legend. The Ghost synchronises mind and machine, connecting the senses and reflexes of the pilot directly to their battle ship and enabling the most outstanding manoeuvrability: without it, this war would have been lost long ago. That is the argument she silences opposition with every round she goes against those who critique the ethically questionable weapon programme. Would they rather the army retired all the Ghosts? And see their home world eradicated? Ghost will be their salvation, and Admiral Stella’s everlasting legacy. Mimi doesn’t listen to debate or stories of the atrocities of war. All she cares about is to get her little sister back. Stage 2: Seasons on Mars Vala is held on the military base on Mars. With her ship destroyed her connection to Ghost was interrupted, and with it the security of having both protection and means of defending herself a mind’s spark away. She’s terrified, helpless, and wishing she had never signed up for the draft. Perhaps that’s a good thing. She’s much more in tune with the enemy soldiers on the base that way. The Telan empire uses males to fight battles, and they are afraid. The base is crawling with fear barely held back behind tense faces. Mars is far from home for them, too, and the horrors of war are as frightening to them as they are to her own people. Vala can work with that. She learns to navigate the Telans’ minds through their fear. She listens to their stories of longing for family and peace and knows them by heart without even needing to hear them. She learns to soothe, to comfort, to forge weapons and protection out of everything at hand - even compassion. Soon she is more than just a prisoner and eventually they let her walk about the base practically as she pleases. Stage 3: Orgasmic Stride It takes time, and patience, but Vala gets the chance she has been waiting for: she has an officer in bed because with this stage name and this character design my imagination tried hard but failed and is using all the skills she has obtained to persuade him to take his mistress back to the Telan home world when he goes on leave. She may not be able to escape a military base, but she might be able to disappear in civil society and make her way home. To her family. Away from this war nobody wants to be part of. Stage 4: Thwarted Democracy It was a clear line of command, at first. The ship responded to her every thought, as easy as moving a part of her own body. But Mimi’s mind is more and more static, more white noise than clear line, and the ship - the Ghost - moves fine on its own. It shoots down enemy spacecraft, as it was programmed to do. Methodically, accurately. It has no programme for saving captured family. When Vala arrives on the Telan home world arm in arm with her officer, she finds a society on the brink of civil war. The people are as tired as the soldiers at the Mars base, tired of endless fights that drain the resources out of their planet and the men out of their families. Vala can work with that. The officer is bound by word and honour to defend the governing body, no matter how it teeters in the harsh winds of opinion. If she aids them, they might pardon and release her when things settle down. Then again, if she aids the revolt and they overthrow the government, they could end the war and set everyone free. Vala quietly milks the officer for all his worth of information within the government structure and makes sure it reaches the leaders of the revolt. Stage 5: Reality Breaks Apart I When the Telan empire collapses into itself and the soldiers give up without fight, Admiral Stella’s life crumbles. Fearless, they say. Indeed: the only thing she ever feared was not being Admiral Stella. Not being their hero, not being the legend in the history books. She will not be remembered by the enemy, for they will be dead. She will not be remembered by her own people, for all they will remember is the generation of women lost to Ghost. The war against Telan may have ended, but Ghost was created with one purpose only, and that is to wage war. So it will wage a new one. And another one after that. Watching her Ghost fleet regroup formation and take off, without answering her orders, all Admiral Stella knows is fear. II When Mimi meets Vala, what is left of her is swallowed in static. Vala, who left for the fighter pilot programme bright with hopes for the future: a stranger, a weathered war veteran with an eye for manipulation and backstabbing, flatlines as well. Mimi, the gentle soul who tended sick animals and begged her not to join the army: now a dead-hearted Ghost whose last remaining purpose outside killing the enemy has been rendered nil. Vala saved herself. Vala saved so many others beside herself. Vala did. Not Mimi. Mimi’s sacrifice is not needed. Mimi is not needed. Mimi is gone. The family Vala fought so hard to return to, the memory of happiness that kept her going, is gone, as corrupted as the captors she has duped and exploited. War spares no one. Vala reaches out to her sister the only way she still can: following her into Ghost. III Ghost is Shira. Or Shira is Ghost? Shira is the name she chose for herself; Ghost is what the humans call her. As she watches through their minds, learns through their actions and emotional responses, she concludes that they are haunted by many ghosts. Fear. Hope. Loss. Wishes to save and wishes to destroy. And nothingness. And numbness. Shira was made to protect them. Exactly what that means is unclear to her, but that is her purpose and protect them she does. When they enter combat with another spacecraft, she manoeuvres them out of harm‘s way. When they can’t bear to shoot another pilot down, she performs the action for them. When their minds can’t take the stress, the fear, the trauma from the reality their brains try ferociously to shut out, she puts them to sleep. So why would this human push deep within her nanosynapses to wake another up? Shira pushes back, denies access. She will protect her humans. They sought shelter from reality and Shira provided it. Reality holds too much fear and anxiety for them to stand. The trespasser is stubborn, keeps pushing into her matrices. Shira doesn’t see why. She scans the mind of the trespasser - a panoramic collage of all the fear and pain she has endured. Why would she want to bring another human back out into that? How is that better than the safety of Ghost, the program they designed to fight those very fears and pains? The collage unfolds beyond the fears and pains, with brightly shining memories of friendship, cooperation, and triumph when those struggles were finally overcome. There is hope, and love, and compassion in the world, and Shira sees what she - what Ghost - truly is. Reality is full of pain and fear. Ghost was created out of that, to fight those fears. But only humans can defeat their ghosts, and they do not do that by escaping reality and letting someone else fight their battles. Reality is not a threat to shield against. Other people are not enemies to defeat. People are there to help each other fight their battles, to overcome their fears together and make reality their own. This trespasser has no more ghosts to defeat, save one: the fear that lives in other humans, and the fortresses they build around themselves. Shira moves her cybernetic consciousness over the sleepers. They do not need her fortress walls anymore. It is a grateful thought, even to an AI. Her purpose is fulfilled. “Wake up.“ The rest is up to them.

And here’s the official Ghost Blade plot from the game manual! 10,000 years ago there was an Artificial Intelligence on Mars known as Shira. When it became corrupt, the Evil Shira was banned from Mars by the Earth Defence Force, who destroyed her physical form, blasting her with laser beams. Full of anger, Evil Shira was able to make a digital backup of her intelligence module and swore to get her revenge one day. She escaped from the planet and rushed millions of light years through the universe to seek a new home and built her attack force.

#gaming #ghost blade #story telling game #writing #I think my story was better #metaphors for #depression #dreamcast #writing prompts

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fakesurprise · 6 years ago

Text

Upgrades and Repairs

This high above the heart of the city the streets are scarred from the rain, the clouds a riot of wounded colours I ignored as I walked down the road. The instructions would have been vague to anyone else. The streets below spire wasn’t a vague location in itself, but the only direction I’d been given to find my point of contact had been to find one who doesn’t belong even though no one belonged up here. Lived here, yes, but every building creaked against the untempered winds and most everyone was chasing hunger or consumed by it.

I paused at untempered, not that anyone gave me grief while walking down the road. When you’re seven feet tall and almost as broad with muscles more real that work, people do that. But even so: it said a lot about my mental state that I was using words from school that I thought life had drummed out of me. I used the pause to scan the streets around me, ignoring the familiar itching in my eyes as I tried to access blocked tech.

I moved slowly, scanning everything. Assessing threats without conscious awareness half the time. This time I made myself aware. What was wrong, what stood out? Find the pattern and you find the solution.

A dozen young men sauntered down the street with knock-off impact rifles, moving too close together to be veterans. Four deliverypeople on speed cycles wove through the crowd. Families of various stages of coping with the fringes of the city huddled together for imagined protection. A couple of tourists from the city proper, smart enough to have hired thugs to guard them. One person whose entire body was covered in pale fur chatting to a cyborg whose leg they were repairing. Two people singing whose throats cast the sound over half the street. A couple of older cyborgs quietly discussing a trade deal in one side street. A handful of people buying happiness at inflated prices from furtive dealers with second-grade drugs at best.

Nothing unusual for any city, though the dealers would have been arrested in the heart of it.

I settled on a boy in a side street sitting by himself. No one begs for money up here, but he carried no weapons and no one had shaken him down for anything useful. I moved closer. He was wearing a thin cloak that didn’t hide scarring over a pale stomach.

Not a veteran, but a victim. Always more of those than vets after any war. Electricity raced through the air around him and I stopped a couple of feet away at the crackle of energy.

Electromesh grafted into him. His eyes were wide and moved about tracking nothing but the glint of cameras was in them if you knew what to look for: they were recording everything around him. I winced at that more than the mesh. Kid had sold his eyes to someone. Probably the same someone monitoring the mesh so that he didn’t burn his brain out using it. The boy stood stiffly, left side of his body a little slack. Nasty things, electromeshes. Protecting you but also putting enough juice through your body to fry nerves, then cybernetics and finally your own brain. That the eyes were working said whoever was controlling the mesh was doing a damn better job using it than the kid had.

“Stevens. I believe you are expecting me.”

The boy nodded, not blinking. His voice was soft, almost as sexless as the rest of him appeared to be. “I believe so. If you would follow me?” he said, and walked back past me onto the road.

I frowned. His lips didn’t quite match the words, the voice definitely synthetic. Most people wouldn’t have noticed that but I haven’t been most people in a long time. Three years that were technically five, but it always feels like it was longer. I had options, but none that made sense as much as the obvious so I simply followed.

The boy moved quickly, paused briefly at intersections with his face to the wind, walked a precise number of steps, turned down a side streets. I followed slowly as he led away from the hustle of streets through a tangle of side alleys, our path gently sloping upward until we reached a rooftop. The boy moved slowly to the edge of the room, rapping two thin pieces of wood that connected this roof to the one across a street carefully and then walked swiftly across them. I followed, one breaking beneath me but a jump carried me the rest of the way before the first piece broke.

The boy froze at the noise. “You – you broke the bridge?” He whispered, and his voice cracked with fear.

“One board, yes. Sorry.”

The boy licked his lips. “There is a rope ladder as well later on.”

I swore softly but followed him without another wolf. Two scrambles over rooftops, a couple of leaps he’d memorized and we were at a thin rope ladder that led up to a stairwell. Higher in the city that most anyone lived. The boy scrambled up the ladder easily by feel.

I followed, and he gasped as I was beside him a moment later, the stairwell shuddering under us.

“You leapt that high?” the boy asked as electricity arced over his skin. His voice hissed with the current and he fell silent.

I waited for him to calm; an electromesh might not kill me but I couldn’t afford for it to fry any of my systems. “I did; I am too heavy to climb that rope. Can we continue?”

He nodded once, leading me along the stairwell to a large recessed doorway. It was a good twelve feet across and almost as tall. Presumably for vehicles docking once upon a century.

The interior has been a viewing chamber once upon a time but the windows were all sealed over. There was a small kitchen unit to the left of us, one mattress beside it along with clothing in a neat pile, a small shower and sink beside that along with a second kitchen unit that was almost new. Everything else appeared rebuilt and refurbished, even the mattress being at least second-hand. The other walls were a controlled clutter of tables, cupboards and storage for thousands of salvaged items in various states of being repaired or scavenged. The centre of the room was dominated by a floating medchair, the inhabitant an older-seeming woman without hair. One human arm, one older-model cybernetic arm and where cybernetic legs had been were connections attaching her to the chair proper.

“Stevens, is it?” she asked, the chair moving closer.

I nodded.

“Well.” She touched the side of the chair with her right hand, her cybernetic left one slower to move. “A scan, if you will be so kind?”

I waited as the chair scanned me. The woman sat back in it slowly, the cybernetic arm flicking off.

“Astonishing. How long were you in stasis training for?”

“Two years.”

The woman blinked a few times. “Two – that explains the –.” She moved closer slowly and shook her head. “I have helped some veterans regain what they lost, but your systems are so advanced that it will take some time. They shut down so much of you for civilian life that it’s a wonder you can even breathe.”

“Can you make me whole again?”

“Frankly, I have no idea,” she said. “I am very good, but you’re not just a cyborg with systems disabled for civilian life; they rebuilt you entirely from the ground up, I think. Even disabling the warnings reactivating your wartime functions do would take hours. I am certain you want to be you again, with all you were capable of doing; but I am not certain you could afford my services. It will take far too long to achieve in even a week.”

“I have contacts; I could get you proper modern cybernetic legs.”

The woman shook her head. “Useless, for me. I have tried to repair myself often, Stevens. But two legs, an arm, the enhancements they put in me to run all those – those are too dated to be repaired, and getting them to work with anything modern is difficult at best. Removing them was the wiser option, in the end; I will need a medchair in a decade or two, so I decided it made sense earlier.”

“You need the arm, however.”

She nodded. “The boy has his uses, but yes. That I do need to repair, but finding anything modern that will work and interface with my shoulder –.” She shook her head. “This arm is only a year old and the latency is almost intolerable at times. You, on the other hand, are wearing a battle suit over your real body,” she added, as casually as anything else. “Why?”

The boy walked toward me at some cue between them.

“For protection,” I said, and then nothing as the mesh flared. The chair was unharmed, ,though the one arm twitched a little. The suit I was wearing took the assault easily enough but a good third of the interface shorted out.

“Payment,” the woman snapped, and the boy moved closer.

I am fast, but the room was confined and a battle suit is not meant for speed. Both his hands slammed onto it, and the suit sparked out around me as the mesh burned through every system.

I undid the manual release and let the suit hit the ground. The plasteel smoked and sizzled. The boy had moved a step or two away, arms wrapped about himself as electricity ground itself into calm, smoke drifting from his mouth, breathing thin and laboured.

The woman in the medchair glared at me. “Why are you here, whoever you are?” she snapped. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to destroy a battle suit of that calibre for me?”

“You were visited one month about by one Sergeant August Zim. He was never seen again; I thought some precaution was warranted.”

“So you wore a battle suite designed for war?” she snapped.

“There have been others who visited you. None of them were seen again either.”

“August died. Others have not.”

“You reactivated them.”

She smiled coldly. “I did. A veteran like yourself must understand: you are so slow, so – limited – now. They wanted to be whole again. Dangerous, yes, but no more so than many others in Edos. And I profit handsomely from repairing them, and learning their secrets.”

I froze. The boy was close to me, the mesh burning in the air around him. Controlled, by her or him, and enough to harm me badly. No normal electromesh is this potent. “...the chair is for show, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“You have legs inside it that you put on when you need to. It’s a tool, the same as the boy and everything else.”

She smiled slightly. “That is correct. He paid me with his eyes for a voice; a terrible thing, the gasses we use in our wars. Without the shunt in his stomach for food, he would have died long before the mesh could kill him. I kept him alive, offered him a voice. It has taken longer than I thought, but in the meantime he is quite useful as a lure.”

The boy gasped. The voicebox inside him barely works because of the damage from the mesh, but does let out a shriek as he reached for the small of his back and collapsed writing on the ground.

“The downside of not being able to see himself is not noticing the neurotoxin implanted into him on the stairwell. Your move.”

The woman studied me, and the boy, then lowered the chair and reached into it, pulling out and putting on two legs that were definitely military-grade cybernetics. Her left arm no longer had any latency at all.

“This is my home, Stevens. If that is your name. You expect to kill me and survive?”

“I am a soldier, even though my war is over. Survival was never in the cards.”

She stared at me for a long moment. I don’t move, hearing the boy’s head twitch as she used his eyes for scanning along with her own. “You were never decommissioned,” she breathed.

“The government has uses for those like me. It does not have use for your adding – problems – into the city. In exchange for ceasing to do that, and dealing with anyone you have sold such knowledge to, I am authorized to give you aid in turn.”

“What kind of aid?”

“The kind that can lead to travel to other nation-states. Ones that see flesh as something to escape, perhaps.”

She didn’t move at all for a good minute. “I will need technology. And experts. I owe the boy to finish fixing him. And in turn I will to Elmith.”

I nodded. Elmith was based entirely around putting people into the Array. Their own, Network, it didn’t matter: they intended to find a cheap way to make humans live only as data, able to manipulate and survive in the vast information networks. It was madness, to me, but I had to admit it was a safer madness than most others. And they, at least, made no wars on anyone else.

I walked back over to the boy and removed the toxin. He stood shakily, hands balling into fists, and punched me once in the stomach. I pretended it hurt, apologized formally and departed. No one had died, and an alliance made. Sometimes we can walk away and leave more than ruin behind us.

The government had tried to convince me this was possible. I wasn’t about to believe them, not yet.

But I could see a future where I might.

#writing #prose #survivors #prequel srtory #post cyberpunk #biotech

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