#but the thought of it getting infected or having to change it is HHHH

[tuituipupu]

i’m thinking of a belly button piercing hmm hmmm

[monster-noises]

Now, nowadays I'm not usually one to go on about like.. headcannons and stuff, particularly not publicly (Fandom isn't really my scene anymore, I'm like an old grandpa man)

but I was having some Thots about trans Heisenberg in the shower just a moment ago so I'm just gunna let loose under the cut, just this once, as a treat.

please don't be a fool idiot on my post, save your time and mine, you'll be blocked immediately regardless <3

I was just thinking about how like.. being trans would add such a compelling and fascinating layer to his whole like.. Narrative

like.. imagine Miranda - looking to bring her daughter back; kidnaps this young 'girl' who turns out to be a nearly perfect specimen through her experiments.

Except nearly perfect isn't perfect and so Miranda's search goes on and this kid just... has to live like this now...

infected, mutated, irrevocably changed and being indoctrinated into this Family.

Loosing any semblance of self-determination and identity (and as he says; his Dignity) but one day this kid realizes Who He Is (read: Trans) and it's just like... the Floodgates open

Suddenly there's a path of control, a way to reclaim himself. He cannot change what Miranda has done to him, but he can take some degree of the powerlessness he feels over his being and wrestle it back into his own hands.

(Now does he figure out how to do a Transition on his own because he clearly knows a thing or two about anatomy? or does he confide in The Duke and our old boy helps him out? who knows, that's not what I'm here to determine. but g o d the idea of the duke as this consistent semi-friendly figure in his life makes me Feel Things)

And it starts this explosive chain reaction in him where this boiling, pointed, but action-less anger coalesces into goals, and he realizes he Can reclaim power over himself, even if just a bit at a time.. and just AHHHH

AHHH HH HH HHHHH H

IT'S ABOUT THE POWER OF SELF-DETERMINATION BAYBEE

IT'S ABOUT KNOWING YOURSELF AND NOT LETTING ANYONE GET IN THE WAY AND LETTING THAT FUEL YOU

IT'S ABOUT BECO M I N G

But Then Like...........

the absolute added T r a g e d y of that initial, almost euphoric, realization and transformation twisting and turning and continuing to boil in hate and rage over time, as he is still entrenched in this Evil place, infected with Cadou/megamycete; primed to become a monster just like everyone around him (This whole post in No Way is supposed to be Woobifying this terrible terrible Nasty man, he's horrible, nasty, evil, and vile, but also fucking tragic and it's all complicated and great and evil and beautiful and I love him explicitly as a villan and no the game itself is not that deep, at least not on purpose, but I do so love to explore a puddle as though it were an ocean every now and again)

The way that twiiiiists into him becoming not unlike the very person he seeks to destroy in so many ways!! How he both maintains that original idea but never grows past it and only rots around it!!

Die sort-of-not-really-ever a Hero or live long enough to see yourself become a Villan!!!

The way he reflects the other characters in this story in so many fascinating ways!!! AHHH!!! I LOVE THIS EVIL OLD MAN!!!! This parts kinda true whether or not he's Trans though and is perhaps a Talk for another large text post later when I'm feeling Brash again!!!!

but him being trans and that being the catalyst for him beginning to really fight back just makes it e x t r a Sad!

This concludes my thought vomit allocations for this week, thank you very much for your time.

I know most of what people see on my blog particularly is just me being unequivocally horny about this man, but I do genuinely love, and am compelled by, him as a character on a lotta levels....

he's also just hot as all get out

[waldos-writing]

The Dig Initiative: Chapter 27

Mustard Alice

Sleep was a great tool when you had to waste time. It wasn’t perfect, of course, nor was it really a helpful coping tool, but it was all Alice had. And she used it. Even when she was brought to an examination room and was poked, stared at, examined by a team of doctors, her only concern was getting back to her cell so she could close her eyes and disappear into that sweet soundless nothingness.

It was the new sedative patch. They’d switched her over to the strong stuff, so she didn’t have the strength to pick at it with her freshly trimmed fingernails. DIdn’t have the energy to do other stuff either. Pull hair. Claw face. Throw herself hard on the ground. She was out cold when the door opened, vaguely aware of the bed jostling. It didn’t matter, wherever she was going. She’d sleep her way through that too.

“Hold on.”

Flashes of white flew overhead, long dizzy streaks through the cloud of the sedative. It was so hard to open her eyes. Maybe she should care. Put in an effort. The pillow under her head was firm and covered in a papery mesh. Not comfortable. Alice rolled her cheek into it.

They were moving. They were rolling fast, past doors and then past walls and then past windows. Alice tried to crane her neck to see who the “they” was, but her neck was all loose and wiggly. The lights kept flashing, becoming more solid. She barely felt a little tug on her shoulder, little teeth being pulled out of her skin.

And then the lights stopped flashing.

“Here we go.”

Elevator doors scraped open. The bed floated through and suddenly they were in a steel box. Maybe this was safe? The lights were low and the walls were bare. There was that musty smell, maybe construction dust, maybe the old mattress, maybe just Alice herself. Been a while since she showered. Couple of splashes in a sink wasn’t body wash and shampoo for sure. As her nose woke up, it all started coming at her. Made her sick. Made her morning sick. Oh god, yep, it was coming back, coming clear, there was a baby. Fucking baby. She’d been told at Sanctuary she was sterile, gave her a discount on the visit because of it. Those damn dirty liars. If she ever saw herself out of these walls, she’d march back there and give them a piece. Drag Devon with her and just shout and point and grab his face and kiss him hard cause he was just there oh god, where was he? Alice started crying instantly.

“Hold on.”

They put their hand on her shoulder, gentle. She couldn’t see it, if they were slender or thick or hairy knuckles or not. She just felt the light touch, the physical link to whoever was pushing the gurney.

“Hhhh,” Alice answered. Big, ugly crying, shaking crying, snot nose crying. The hand rubbed her shoulder like Ma would do when she was sick. Didn’t help. Just made it come out faster.

“We’re getting out.”

Something was wrong. Couldn’t see yet, face all sloppy with tears, but something was wrong. It was that bright electric ping in the air. A crackle. The doors slid open. Not just opened, exploded, forced back as something came thundering at them shouting “Get out now!” Alice wanted to, of course she did, she’d stand up with her arms raised above her head and promise it wasn’t her idea, that she complied, but she couldn’t.

The surgeon grabbed her hand and gave it a tight steady squeeze. A heat rose, like they’d opened the doors to a furnace, and Alice wondered if she was going to melt into the bed. So many people were yelling then. Alice felt the surgeon, whoever, jerk the gurney back against the elevator wall. Nowhere to run. Adrenaline started to shake her limbs, got everything turning, highly aware that she was in a thin medical gown without anything to protect her.

Oh my god, Alice chanted, eyes shut. Oh my god oh my god oh my god. We’re gonna die. Devon, babe, wherever you are, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

“Hold on!”

The surgeon threw their body across Alice, shielding her as something zinged overhead. They were firing at them?! Another zipped by, closer than the first. Oh god, it was all going to shit. Alice managed to get one hand up and hook it around the surgeon. She was probably screaming.

“Jesus, Tommy, hurry up,” the surgeon whispered right into Alice’s ear, like a prayer. She recognized the voice. She did. Alice made a fist into the doctor’s back, the woman who had come to her cell. This was a disaster of an escape plan. Despite everything, though, she was terribly grateful that the doctor had tried. Failed, but at least tried.

Before anybody rushed them, the guards stopped shouting. A harsh blue light blinked overhead in stark contrast. The doctor stood up to see. Alice summoned some bit of strength to lift her head, straining her sight around the bridge of her nose.

They were just standing there. Every guard had their hands on their guns, pointed at the elevator, but they were frozen. Just like statues. Well, except for their eyes, freewheeling around in their skulls as they tried to see what was happening. There was that stink of terror. The guards strained against their stiff muscles, necks popping with veins, all in complete silence.

“Enough.”

A stranger stood at the end of the hallway. His voice was low and weak, but it travelled well. It carried across to each guard, like a little whisper that made them groan. The stranger lifted his hands, pulling thick invisible chords of rope. A pause. They all held their breath. The doctor held her breath. Alice held her breath. They waited for those hands in the air, waited frozen in the air, waited. And then they dropped.

It was like a light went out. Each guard fell to the ground in a thump of meat and broken bones. Just dropped, smack, empty. Whatever tension that held them snapped and even Alice felt herself relaxing against the gurney bed. One of the guards near them corkscrewed his back and it looked almost like a pile of clothes, like a fleshy suit that had been tossed there. Someone else smashed face first into the ground, teeth shattering. The closest guard opened his jaw until it snapped and vanished from Alice’s line of sight.

“Thomas!”

The doctor pushed the gurney out of the elevator, right into the wall of sewage smell. She was racing over to the man at the end of the hall. Alice could just see him as he grabbed the side of his head and stumbled over one of the dead guards. He was so tall, so tall. He could almost be double the doctor, which was impossible, but damn if it didn’t seem that way. He hunched down and dropped his head against her shoulder.

“Thomas, what did you do?”

“Go,” he whispered. He looked up, pointing a shaky hand. “She’s changing.”

“No. Not yet. She hasn’t had the treatment in a while, it shouldn’t—”

“She has,” he said, and repeated, “Changing.”

There was a ring of blood around the iris of his eye, big red splashes that trickled down from his tear ducts. He stumbled towards the gurney. Nobody cared that dead heaps surrounded them. Nobody cared that the blue light was still going on overhead. Thomas got closer and when he put his finger on her naked ankle, Alice felt the fever shimmering at the edge of her conscious. She sighed as Thomas went limp.

The doctor did not waste time. She was quick, snap, caught him before his head banged against anything. Tall bastard went limp, so she laid him flat on the floor. Her fingers went to his neck and she counted while chewing her lip.

“He okay?” Alice croaked.

“Alive, at least,” the doctor answered. “We have to go. I just don’t know how we’ll be able to take him.”

It was a small sacrifice, really. She was a tough broad, even in her worst moments. It was all she had. Alice pushed herself up, arms shaky, god damnit everything shaky, but she got up. It was all starting to clear and she even she thought her stomach didn’t hurt as much. She could actually focus. She hopped off the gurney, ignoring the doctor who demanded in curt hissing orders to stop, get back into bed, just think for a second.

“Help me,” Alice said instead. She hooked one of Thomas’s elbows with her arms. Maybe she was up, but she wasn’t strong enough to hoist him into the bed alone. Even in the peak of physical health, Alice probably wouldn’t have been able to do it. It was selfish of the doctor to think she could. Alice jerked her head back towards the gurney. “Help me.”

It wasn’t easy. He was big; skinny, but big. The doctor put the brakes on the gurney wheels and they struggled with his dead weight. When they finally flopped him up onto the mattress, they unlocked the wheels and started towards the end of the hall. Alice swooned. So much. Everything was so much. She wiped her head, but refused to stop.

And then, nagging like mad at the back of her head, it hit her as they run.

Is Devon still back there somewhere?

She was brought in alone, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. If she left him, was it forever? The exit was coming up fast and she had to decide if she’d go. But she had to. Fucking pregnant? Infected? The doctor and the crazy tall bastard on the gurney had risked their lives. It was wrong. It was wrong and selfish. All wrong. They had to go. They had to. Thomas knocked all those men out like blowing out candles. If she was lucky, Beard guy and Glasses were among them. Maybe even Neck Tattoo. She had to go. Thomas gave them the opportunity and she hated the idea of wasting it. Alice swore to herself that she’d find Devon and make it right. But, until then, she was going to escape. So they did.

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