#he's MY shitty old man and I get to analyze the fuck outta him

[cgspirl]

Regarding Antlers (Spoilers for NOPE [2022])

Working on a video essay for 'Nope' and I ended up ranting on Discord about Antlers, so I'm gonna post it here, unedited for the Full Effect™️ of the brain damage Mr. Jordan Peele has inflicted on my churning little brain:

ALSO. antlers. antlers is such an interesting character because he comes off as like. the apathetic, jaded remains of someone who is a hollywood legend, who never wanted to be a hollywood legend, who just. now has to live with that because that's just how it is.

and on the surface? yeah! that's antlers holst. but frankly there's more to him than just. grizzled jaded cinematographer who was going to fuck everything up for everyone because he's a selfish artistic prick.

to make a long comparison short he's like o.j. down to earth (heh), no-nonsense, straightfoward type of guy who knows what to do within his field of expertise and only wants to do his job and be left alone to do that job

unfortunately, because he is someone that can be commodified by hollywood (cinematographer), unlike o.j. who can't (animal-wrangler), he's stuck in the claws of the fame machine even though he doesn't want to be.

a big thing i noticed on my rewatch was the purple people eater scene. at first, it comes off as threatening and ominous, like a warning; and then you put it in perspective of who the fuck he's actually talking to. these 'kids' (grown adults but antlers is old n therefore probably refers to anyone younger than him as 'kids') have already been through the worst of it. all that's left to do it pull it off. think about it in perspective of the lyrics, specifically the verse he chose to recite:

'tree' of course. not being an obvious tree but rather being a reference to the mountains jj resides in; but the specific one is the "i wouldn't eat you / 'cause you're too tough" because. because they're quite literally the protagonists. they are too tough to eat because of plot armor. this was quite literally antlers' strange artistic way of saying how much he believes in them because he sees them as 'too tough' for jean jacket to eat. they'll outsmart it. they'll outpace it. n by god they'll get the impossible shot.

also extremely important to me that antlers a) predicts his own death and b) always stands away from the group, which can symbolize both him being an outsider AND his foreshadowed death. i also think it's very important to mention (because so many people have been so quick to write it off as 'selfish' or 'stupid') how antlers dies.

if you watch the scene before the run, antlers takes. some sort of cocktail of medication while angel watches both vaguely concerned and confused but ultimately chooses not to say anything because frankly. well frankly it's none of his business whatever they've got shit to do.

now they get the shot! they get the shot, everyone's celebrating, overjoyed they got it! except antlers. antlers comments on the light, how it's going to be magic soon.

remember he joined this operation late; to him, he hadn't done enough to fully like. constitute his contribution (despite bringing the equipment that actually allowed this come to fruition but to him that isn't enough. it's not enough. he has to get the impossible shot. the shot that will finally, finally prove to himself that he is, in fact, the artistic genius hollywood claims he is. but instead of getting it right there, with angel and the equipment near by, he chooses to walk away, to distance himself from angel, the equipment, and essentially the rest of the group. why? he didn't want to put them in danger.

what he was about to do was essentially suicide! fuck he even leaves angel with a warning before he goes: "Don't worry Angel, it's gonna be alright. We don't deserve the impossible."

|now a lot of people have imposed this 'we' as antlers referring to the group, but frankly? i 100% he was talking about himself and hollywood as a whole. they don't deserve the impossible; they'd just squander it. these kids? these kids do. these kids have put their asses on the line far more than any big wig hollywood anybody has in his lifetime; they deserve the impossible.

granted, if he'd been less cryptic, angel's stupid ass probably wouldn't have followed him up and nearly gotten himself killed by that's neither here nor there at this point tbh THE POINT IS. antlers knew exactly what he was doing (give or take on account of The Meds:tm:) and wasn't going to let those kids get hurt for him to do so because, at the end of the day, it wasn't them who had anything to prove to hollywood; it was him.

tl;dr antlers is a weird cryptic old man who might've been on a lot of drugs but his heart was (kinda) in the right place

[nanbaka-82]

No one asked and no one will probably read but here’s songs that remind me of some of my most beloved hypmic boyos (Yes I wrote this at five am and I was being biased) Alert this is very long and shitty don’t read if ya don’t wanna get a brain rot and I advise you not to break your mind before 2nd drb.

Bonus up top:

All Stars + Kotonohoto:

- This Is The Moment - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis

CLASSIC LOVE IT KEEP GETTING DRB VIBES

- I’m Ready - AJR

THIS IS LIKE DIVISION ALL STARS VS KOTONOHOTO

Yotsutsuji:

- Three Thirty - AJR

IM NOT SURE ABOUT THIS ONE AT ALL but since he’s a character that we never really got to understand and analyze, or maybe the fact that he was put falsely into his comatose state pains me.

“You start thinking about the clock ticks, you get nervous, you start stressing, so how am I supposed to fit this, in three minutes, and thirty seconds?”

“Listen to my aching heart. Quick before you skip the song. We are human after all. And we. Don’t. Stay. For. Long”

Naughty Dialogue/MCD +:

- Bang - AJR 

JUST LOVE THE VIBE 

“I’m way too young to lie here forever (IchiKuko) I’m way too old to try so whatever (SamaSasa) so come hang! We’ll go out with a bang!”

- Partners in crime - ft. Ash Costello

The vibe too! Idk I really like it!

- A Bud Like You - AJR

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH IT FITS THEM EVEN MORE HELL YES

Naughty Busters: 

- Rope - Kulick

“I keep slipping on down but I can’t let go yet”

Pain 

- Kids In The Dark - All Time Low 

 “They left us alone, the kids in the dark, to burn out forever or light up a spark, we come together, state of the art, we’ll never surrender, so let the the world sing”

More pain but cute 

Mad Comic Dialogue:

- I’m Not Ok - Weathers 

HHHHH THIS SONG IS ONE OF MY FAVES

“IM JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE FUCKED UP LIKE EVERYONE ELSE”

- Weak - AJR 

“But I’m weak, and what’s wrong with that? Boy oh boy I love it when I fall for that” (fall for each other those Lil gay boiz)

- Broken -lovelytheband 

“I like that you’re broken broken like me, maybe that makes me a fool?” (sasa)

“I like that you’re lonely lonely like me, I could be lonely with you” (sama)

“There’s something tragic, but almost pure, think I could love you, but I’m not sure” (sama)

“It’s something wholesome, it’s something sweet, tucked in your eyes that I’d love to meet” (sasa)”

- Rose Colored Boy - Paramore 

Y e s 

- Sober Up- AJR

“Hello hello, I’m not where I’m supposed to be, I hope that you’re missing me, cuz it makes me feel young”

*Cries in SamaSasa*

“Won’t you help me sober up? Growing up had made me numb, and I wanna feel something again. Won’t you help me sober up? All the big kids say I’m drunk and I wanna feel something again. Won’t you help me feel something again... how’s it go again?”

“And I wanna feel something again. I just wanna feel something again. (My favorite color is you)”

“Can I finally feel something again?”

*Cries in SamaSasa again*

Otome (I’m so in it for her):

Dollhouse - Melanie Martinez 

Just. Her backstory. Shit. 

Fling Posse:

- TMD (Talk Me Down) - R & R 

This song just reminds me of the overall relationship between fling posse! I’d make an edit but I’m lazy and sad 

- It’s On Us - AJR

(Honestly AJR is my emotional anchor and it’s obvious)

“It’s not your fault you don’t feel safe it’s not your fault so don’t take blame (no it’s on us)”

“We can try together, make it right together, we can fight together, it’s on us, though your trust is stolen, though your heart is broken, you are never broken, it’s on us” 

“We know what we need to do we’ll be there it’s not on you”

Now da main course:

Samatoki Aohitsugi:

- Karma - AJR : 

THAT PART WHERE ITS LIKE “Where the hell is the karma?” HNGGG

- Can I Get a Witness - Sonreal :

OKAY hear me out:

“I fell in love with you cuz you made me feel, I fell in love with you cuz you kept it real, but you changed up on me, you changed your flow, and now I’ve been hating on you every where I go”

BASICALLY YEAH AND THE REST OF THE SONG TOO

- Honest - Nico Collins 

No comment... 

- Middle Finger - BOHNES 

Oh god I love this song 

“But I refuse to let you make me feel like I can’t fly, not only will I soar again, I’ll own the fucking sky” 

“Livin like a riot, setting off the sirens, fists are clenched I’m fighting, soul has been ignited, ain’t got time for dying, I’m too busy thriving, more than just surviving, heart is beating violent”

And just so much more, this song reminds of his spirit that no matter how many times it’s been broke down just won’t give up, and I love it

- Little Poor Me - Layto 

“I tried hard you know I care, I care, I care, just a little poor me, just a little poor me”

The way he protected what he loved with all his heart, Sasara and Nemu, yet, he still lost them at the end. 

Jyuto Iruma:

The Car - Nightly 

Idk why it fits him—the feel of it I guess 

Ramuda Amemura (maNy but I chose):

- Rabbit Hole - AViVA 

Gives me the feel where he drags people down with him but wants to escape 

- Hypnotized - AViVA

I DONT EVEN GOTTA FUCKIN SAY IT

“Can’t you see you’re hypnotized? Locked inside those eyes. Now don’t you go out at night, you’ll end up hypnotized”

“Look into my eyes find it so appealing look into my eyes send your body reeling, now you’re hypnotized, drag you down down down”

Gentaro Yumeno:

- The Way - Layto

Not so sure about this one—but 

“New Speak, show and tell, this will be my hardest sell, wise men, always say, sadness raps in golden plate” 

Reminds me of how he was bullied and unsocial in school, also how his care takers were elders and made him happy 

- 100 Bad Days - AJR

“A 100 days made a hundred good stories, a 100 good stories make me interesting in parties” 

NSJSBSJJSISS LISTEN IT F I T S

Dice Arisugawa:

- Disaster Party - MAGIC GIANT

FUCKIN-THIS SONG IS SO DICE STFU AND

“You’re a brave heart, but you’re broken, and an Angel, but you’re choking”

THIS REMINDS ME OF HOW DICE SILENTLY ACKNOWLEDGES GENTARO AND RAMUDA BUT DOESNT PUSH INTO THEIR BUSINESS! WHAT A GOOD BOY WE HAVE oh and

“Throw away all your money” hhhhh

- I’m Not Famous - AJR 

Reminds me oh how he could have been literal royalty but decided to say fuck it

Hifumi Izanami:

- Echo - Crusher-P

We don’t talk about why I link this to fumi 

- Oh oh and there’s this part in Parents - Yungblud, “Hi nice to meetcha! Got nothing to believe in! So tell me when my breathing, stops-“ idk it reminds me of his phobia and past 

- Make you Mine - Public The Band

HHHH HES SOFT BBY OKAY 

Doppo Kannonzaka:

- Isolate - SubUrban

“Segregated, situated, hanging on, sophisticated, liberated, nauseated, I just want my medication, individuality and blue lights give me headaches, I’m not changing for the better, I’m just changing clothes on weekends”

Need I say more?

- Come Hang Out - AJR

I personally love this one 

“Come hang out cuz you’re outta your mind, you’re working so damn hard, you forgot what you like, come hang out, don’t you leave us behind. But, I’ll be there next time”

“Come hang out cuz you’re missing your life”

“Should I go for more clicks this year? Or should I follow the click in my ear?”

I feel like this song is from everyone who cares about him which is also me—

Jyushi Aimono/Hitoya Amaguni:

- Crybaby - Melanie Martinez

ABSOLUTELY NOT SHIPPING but the part where it’s like 

“I look at you and I see myself”

Makes me cry because I remember how Hitoya lost his brother to bullying then you have Jyushi so he wants to help the little boy live his life and achieve his goals, unlike his brother, sadly

Sasara Nurude:

- My Play - AJR 

Fucking. Just watch the official vid. That’s all. It’s about parent divorce and slaps.

“When I show you my play, will you pretend you didn’t know, if I make a mistake? It’s gonna get really really really really bad, before it’s okay. But maybe you’ll forget it all, while you’re watching my play” 

- Rose Colored Boy - Paramore 

OHH BOY I WROTE A WHOLE FIC ABOUT THIS ON WATTPAD 

- Istanbul (Not Constantinople) 

FUNNY FUNNY SONG CLOWN LIKE FUNNY FUNNY 

Rei:

- Hushh - AViVA 

Fucker got one. 

“Hush Hush, keep your pretty mouth shut, hush hush, lose your inhibitions”

- This Ain’t A Scene It’s An Arms Race - Fallout boy

Like HeLL.

“Fitting you with Weapons in the form of words, and don’t really care which side wins, as long as the room keeps singing that’s just the business I’m in”

“I’m not a shoulder to cry on, I digress, I’m a leading man, and the lies I weave are so intricate, oh so intricate” 

If you read this then congratulations why the fuck did you waste your time

[god-hunter]

My Major Turnaround

Hey folks,

Things have really turned around for me in the past 2 weeks - a month.  Honestly I could have and should have written earlier, because there was a lot of build up and toss up between 3 jobs that I could’ve taken at one point.  It would’ve been interesting to analyze how I felt in that moment before I made a decision, and relive that in future readings.  I also have to tell you about my recent luck in the Dating Scene!

On the job front, things finally worked out for me.  It was a lot of back-and-forth with a Recruiter, then a phone interview, followed by an in-person interview 2 weeks later, where it was basically a done deal already.   Only, it really wasn’t that simple at all.  I was applying left and right daily and 2 other things hit too.  I had this interview at a bottle/can sleeving company that was so different and interesting and very high pay.  It was honestly a why not apply, but they actually bit and were interested in me!!  [It’s clear that these guys were my first choice, but it didn’t work out.]. Still, that interview was SUPER positive and I wouldn't have some sort of answer until 3 weeks.  [The fuck!?] That was not unlike the job I ended up with.  Long waiting period.

Then, there were 2 other places that bit too, but they were an easy 3rd and 4th place.  I won’t give names, but both were Warehouse jobs.  The 1st one was just so disorganized and the place looked dirty.. and when it came time to talk about pay, it was kind of up in the air, but I’d either get $14 as a Warehouse Associate or $16 as a Lead.  Get the fuck outta here.  I was upfront and let her know that I needed time to get back to her because I was waiting to hear back from other places.

The other Warehouse opportunity was way more promising, but the bottom dollar was $15.72 at start.  As I’ve never worked in a Warehouse before, there wasn’t much room for negotiation, but I really tried very hard.  This was a Hiring Event that I was at, so things moved quick.  Before I knew it, I was filling out an app on one of their laptops and then received an offer e-mail.  But when I saw that low number, there was no way I could sign the dotted line.  After any of that negotiating at the first interview!?  What the Hell, man?

The only thing that would've made me consider taking that risk was the Game this guy talked.  He was promising me that this was a lasting career.  People moved up there.  Great benefits.  There’s nothing wrong with starting at the bottom.  In 6 months, things open up, you apply within and see what happens.  etc. etc.  He told me that people on his team moved up to Corporate or other high paying departments, and he trained everyone on everything if he saw that they were willing to go that extra mile.  All this good stuff.

But I crunched those numbers, and they just didn’t make sense at all.  I’d barely be making grocery money, let alone bills.

So...  in my mind I had my 1st Place spot - the canning/sleeving company, this 2nd place spot from the Recruiter, the 3rd place spot, which was the $15.72 Warehouse job and 4th place, which was a last resort $14 or possible $16.

My in-person interview at the 2nd place area was the next day, and I didn’t know what I was gonna get.  He could’ve trapped me with more in-depth questions about things I didn’t know.  He could’ve completely caught me off guard.  But instead, just like the phone interview, he was very impressed.  He told me he needed a week, before he had his answer. That night the Recruiter called me, asked how it went and then told me, I got the offer.

!!!  I was shocked.  It was 2nd place, but it’d been so long since that 1st Place job saw me, that I had to consider putting it out of my mind.  4th place, also wasn’t an option.  So really, it was down to this place, which gave me an offer, which met me at my number, or a Warehouse job that was offering $15.72 an hour.

It should be a no brainer, but again - gotta think long term.  The Warehouse would've hired me directly, and despite starting at bottom, I’d be one of them, and climb the ranks within.. Maybe.

Meanwhile this job offered my number, they wanted me, but its Temp-Perm for 6 months.  No promises at continuity.

I had to weigh this option and I decided that it was a risk worth taking.  As I said to my family the night of the first phone interview.  It’s low risk.  On their end, if this doesn’t work out, they could just let me go.  And on my end, even if this doesn’t last past half a year, I’m going to learn more skills and really hike up my resume in experience.  Also the work is very comparable to what I’ve done for the past 2 years.  It’s Customer Service for an Aerospace company.  It just makes sense.

But again, at this interview, I really impressed it upon him that I was interested in working full-time in the long-term.  I asked how often it was that they’d hire a Temp, but things were going well and smooth, so they ended up hiring them full-time after the contract was up.

His answer was pretty positive.  He projects that the company is only going to keep needing people, and kind of let me know that this is how they do it.  [They just want to save a buck.]

But I’m not just gonna sit back and think I’ve got this in the bag.  I’m going to work hard and prove myself and earn my keep.

And all of that starts Tomorrow! I honestly can’t wait to get back to work and feel a sense of normalcy again.

But wait, there’s more.

In the Dating Realm things are heating up again!!

Last time I mentioned that Teacher person on Tinder.  She’s out. I don’t remember the time table, but there was another girl on Tinder that matched me, and for a literal 2 days that was exciting, until she peetered out as well.  Let’s call her TinderCat for lack of a better name. There’s no reason to really get into it about her, but our first conversation was a lot to do with cats, but then we just found that we didn’t have a lot in common.  It certainly wasn’t personal.  But when I gauged the whole Social Distancing and eventually meeting, she ghosted completely.  So.. ::farts::

Then came this week when a pretty hot girl swiped on me.  She was blonde and  looked a little tougher, but I said, “Cool!” and matched.  Conversation was fine, but not really groundbreaking.  Then, when I showed her off to my Dad, he thought she looked like a Whore, because she didn’t smile in any of her pictures...  I was so pissed at him, but that nickname has certainly stuck.  The Whore and I talked a little more the next day, and we put out a tentative plan to hang out at a bar near me that Friday or Saturday.

That night, while in a band meeting conference call, this other girl swiped on me out of nowhere, and I was blown away!  She’s a brunette, has a beautiful smile, she kind of looks like Allyson Hannigan and already, she just seemed so sweet!  I don’t have a name for her yet, but we’ve been talking, getting along and are starting to bond a little, so we actually have a date already!!  It’s tonight, so I’ve been referring to her as Sunday Girl, lol.  She’s really sweet and I can't wait to meet her.  That’s practically what we’ve been saying all week.  ::fingers crossed::  We’ve both been keeping it cool.

But that’s not all.  I hit a touch of deja vu when that Old Flame with a kid wanted to go on another trail date.  I know better now though.  She’s seeing someone and it’s getting very serious.  This was just a friend thing.  But I’m bringing it up, because on that day she posted some pics of us walking on the trail, and suddenly the Whore unmatched and unfriended me on FB.  I didn’t notice until that night.

Honestly, I’m head over heels for Sunday girl, but I didn’t forget about the Whore.  I let a healthy 2 days of space go by, but that was too much for her.  We already set a plan for later that week.  I was gonna check back on Thursday or something to talk about hanging on Friday or Saturday.  We never clarified the day.  But now that she fucking deaded me, I had a choice to make.

Let her Ghost and just let her win, thinking I wasn’t interested at all, or be a dick about it and show her that she fucked up.  I chose to be a dick.. I was careful, because I honestly didn’t want this date anymore.  I didn’t want to fuck up any potential for Sunday, however I needed to know if it was those Trail Pics.  It turns out it wasn’t.  It turns out that after 2 days of space, she thought I ghosted her.  She said it wouldn’t work out because she needed attention.

What the fuck ever.  I was busy.  I actually have hobbies.  And it’s really funny, because I’m Never the ghoster.  But apparently this time it was.  So there was real role reversal here.

I’m still a nice guy though and told her that if she ever changed her mind, I’d still be down to hang out.  But no.  This is done.

Then came a new contender!  This one matched me on Tinder and calls herself the Real-Life Daria, so we’ve got that nickname covered.  We spoke just a little bit on Friday and everything was positive, but then she just disappeared.  And I’m absolutely fine with that.

This is why they tell people to multi-task and gear up in the dating scene.  Everyone is different, but most people have the attention span of a gnat.  So they’ll either gravitate toward you, or they’ll completely focus on themselves and forget to respond altogether.

It’s a dangerous balancing act though, because things are still going well with Gal Pal.  Needy Girl is also still in the picture.  I haven’t mentioned them at all yet, because by shitty coincidence both of them had Covid scares and quarantined just in case.  In Gal Pal’s situation, she’s also been recovering from having her tonsils removed.

I honestly don’t remember the last time I physically saw her.  We made up since that weird date, and things have absolutely normalized again.  We don’t text every day, and since getting all excited about Sunday Girl, I’ve been pretty quiet.  But Gal Pal has been making the extra effort and she’s been feeling better.  She’s well enough to talk on the phone and wants to start hanging again, which is nice.

We had 2 really good conversations this week, and she continues to surprise me.  We really do get along and have more in common than I think.  So things are really getting interesting now.

But we’re gonna see what happens.

In general, to sum up the crazy dating life, the newest developments were:

* getting ghosted by TinderCat * getting deaded by the Whore  * setting up a date with SundayGirl * randomly talking to RL Daria * Needy Girl quarantining for my safety * Gal Pal recovering/quarantining herself, but texting/calling again.

You might have noticed that I haven’t said too much about my Date tonight. Honestly, it’s because I don’t want to jinx anything.  I don’t want to gush too much, just to tear it all down if things don’t work out tonight.  

But again, what attracted me was certainly her Allyson Hannigan look, she’s into metal, hiking, good beer...  2 of those are kind of common, but the Metal aspect is a specialty.  She’s definitely my kind of person in that regard. But then it turns out she has a cat and we bonded pretty hard about certain things in pet ownership.

She just seems fun and sweet and really likes my attention.  She’s also a hard workin’ woman, which is good, because I’m about to be quite busy myself.

So we’re gonna see!  I’m really excited to meet her.  We’ve been saying that to each other literally all week.  So here’s to tonight.

And the Future, as I start a new job!!

2020 is going to feel very different from here on in.  What’s left of it.

[chibinightowl]

Down the Rabbit Hole, Chapter Seven

Almost done! A big thanks to @myfavrobin because without you, this chapter wouldn’t have been whipped into shape! 

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six

~*~*~

And as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, came whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came!

Well, that’s one thing the poem definitely has wrong. This version of the Jabberwocky doesn’t burble. It cackles, the sound of which makes nails on a chalkboard seem like the finest symphony orchestra.

Jason comes up with a new name for the creature, one that will probably fit better than he cares to think about once he has a chance to see it.

The Jokerwocky.

Abruptly, he stands and heads to the top of the stairs, his long strides eating up the short distance.

“Are you crazy?” Tim-Cat hisses. He follows and manages to snag his claws in the back of Jason’s jacket before he descends. “The Red Knight could be anywhere.”

“Thought you could sense him?” Jason tries to shrug off the Cat, but he doesn’t let go.

“I can’t. Not him. The Red Queen has done something to his aura. He’s like that dark spot you see if you look at the sun for too long. There’s nothing until he’s right on top of you.”

“That has to suck for you.”

Tim-Cat scoffs. “I have no idea who he is, so yes, it does. Anyway, will you just slow down? This is a trap, in case you’d forgotten.”

He hasn’t. But he’s sick and tired of these goddamned games. “Yeah, it is. But is it for me or for you? The Red Queen doesn’t have a fucking clue who I am, so everything that’s happened since I got here has to be directed toward the White Queen, and by extension, you. Or do the Tweedles get kidnapped on a regular basis?” Dick still can’t quite live down his old nickname of Boy Hostage, no matter how old he’s gotten. No one comes even close to the number of times he’s been taken captive, on purpose or not.

The Cheshire Cat’s grip tightens. “What you’re speaking of is an act of war. There hasn’t been one since the Court of Cards toppled and the Red and White factions took power.”

Yet again, Jason marvels over the depth and richness of the world he’s dreamed up. When this is over (it has to be over soon, it has to be), he might just have to write this shit down, if only for his own amusement.

“I’m surprised your Knight’s death didn’t start a new one.”

“The White Queen wouldn’t let me.” Tim-Cat’s tone says exactly what he still thinks about that and Jason can’t blame him. If the roles were reversed and something happened to his Tim… well, it’s not gonna be pretty.

“I’ll lead then,” Jason replies. “No one here expects me. Just watch my back and take any opportunity you see to grab the sword.”

Tim-Cat growls low in his throat and presses his lips to Jason’s in a brief yet fierce kiss, nipping at his bottom lip with those sharp fangs. “I know better than to warn you about not doing anything dangerous, so don’t do anything stupid.”

Jason grins. “Where’s the fun in that?”

~*~*~

There’s something missing when Jason saunters into the parlor like he owns it the place. All the hideously rich furniture and presumptuous paintings are there and exactly as he remembers. Even the curtains match his memories. A surprisingly cheerful fire is laid in the fireplace, glowing warmly against the gloom.

No, what has him stopping short is the annoying lack of anyone in the room besides him.

What the hell is going on?

“I thought for sure she’d be in here,” Tim-Cat mutters behind him. “Why else have a fire when the rest of the house is dark?”

“This is Harley Quinn or your world’s version of her,” Jason replies, cautiously stepping further into the room to look around. “I never pretend to understand what’s going on in that head.”

The Cheshire Cat slinks his way around him and stops, planting hands on hips as he frowns. “What are we missing?”

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

It still echoes from everywhere and nowhere, a disembodied voice that, in an odd way, really does burble. If you called sending shivers down your spine and icepicks into your brain a proper burble. Jason would much rather hear a burbling brook in some idyllic countryside than this shit.

He’s had enough. “Shut the fuck up!” he shouts into the void that is the empty house. “No one wants to hear your shitty laugh!”

The silence is even more disturbing than before.

Tim-Cat wheels around and smacks him. “I swear, you must be mad. That’s the Jabberwocky!”

“Who can die just like anyone else with the right piece of equipment,” Jason retorts. They need to find that sword so they can get the fuck out of this nightmare. “I’m sick of this little game. Besides, I think know where they are.”

The Cat pales. “Where?”

“In the cave beneath the house.”

“The what?”

Jason jerks his head toward the door. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

“How do you even know…?”

He places a hand on the door frame and looks back at the disgruntled cat. Tim’s tail lashes wild from side to side, the only sign of his agitation. “Because I know the inside of this place like the back of my own goddamned hand.”

To prove it, Jason marches out of the room, across the foyer, and heads deeper into the house, his steps unerringly heading toward a room that in the waking world is Bruce’s study.

It’s almost annoying that it still is when he opens the door. Doubts he had about this being something other than a dream start to dissipate, leaving behind questions over just how fucked up his head really is.

The study is almost pitch black, the only light coming from a freshly cracked glowstick and the occasional lightning from the storm still churning overhead. But all the furniture is as it should be, and Jason is tempted to take a closer look at the pictures hanging on the wall. Is there one of him, locked in stasis as the world moves on around him? Or are portraits here like in Harry Potter and the images come to life?

He’s crossing enough genres that it’s entirely plausible.

Tim-Cat is cautious as he peers around him, eyes luminous in the eerie blue glow. “What is this place?”

A number of answers come to mind, but Jason picks the most honest one. “A place where, for the first time in my life, I was given magic.”

“You’re a magician?”

“Not literal magic,” he explains. “But at the time, it sure felt like it.”

Call him a sap, but Tim makes him feel the same way and not just because of what he can do with his tongue.

Jason digs through his jacket and finds his actual flashlight. No point in hiding their presence anymore, not that they were doing that stellar of a job anymore. “Here, it’ll probably be pitch black down there.”

Tim-Cat holds it up curiously. “What is this?”

“A light that won’t go out.” It’s got the Batman seal of approval on it, it sure as fuck better not go out because of a cheap-ass battery or shitty bulb. “Click that little switch.”

“Oh wow,” the Cheshire Cat breathes as he complies, the strong beam of light illuminating the far side of the study where an old grandfather clock rests tall and proud against the wall.

“Hold it right there,” Jason instructs, crossing the study in a few swift strides to stand in front of the oh-so-familiar clock and adjust the time.

For some reason, his heart starts pounding, the beat loud in his ears. Maybe it’s the atmosphere, maybe it’s the anticipation of finally getting to punch something. Hell, maybe it’s the fact that this dream quest/hallucination will be over soon. Whatever it is, the adrenaline rush is welcome.

Especially since the Red Knight lunges out of the clock entrance as soon as Jason opens it, sword in hand and ready to make his life fucking hurt.

“Goddammit!”

He ducks under the initial strike, hearing Tim-Cat’s surprised shout and not being able to do a damn thing about it as he focuses on not getting sliced with a sword that’s making a very strange noise every time the Red Knight swings.

Almost like…

Jason dances out of the way again, doing his best to stay out of range of the blade that’s going snicker-snack.

“He’s got the vorpal sword!” Tim-Cat cries out, voice laced with indignation and rage. “He’s using my Knight’s sword!”

The outburst draws the attention of the Red Knight. He pauses, gaze shifting from Jason to the Cheshire Cat. A low growl is heard from under his helmet and he lunges to the right to try and get around Jason.

He’s not fast enough.

“Nice try, buddy.” Jason slams into him, trying to force the man off balance enough to trip him, but it doesn’t work. The Knight recovers his footing but tries again to move past him toward Tim-Cat.

Jason feels rather smug that he called it earlier, that all of this is a trap of some sort for the Cheshire Cat, emissary or whatever he is, of the White Queen. “He’s after you, Cat! Get outta here!”

“Like hell I will!” Tim-Cat shadows his footsteps, keeping the light aimed at the Red Knight as he bounces around the room, as much at ease on the furniture as he is on the floor.

Once again, Jason wishes he had his own hood with him. The protection it provides would even the odds as the vorpal sword gives the Red Knight a much longer reach. He’s at a disadvantage unless he can get in close. Faster than conscious thought, he analyzes the Knight’s movements, his armor, looking for a weakness. He’s good, Jason will grant him that. Very good. What he needs is a distraction, something to make his opponent sloppy.

That gives him an idea. “What the fuck’s got you riled up, huh? Pissed off about your pet kitty?”

Behind him, Tim-Cat makes a strangled sound. “What are you doing?”

“What I do best.” Jason avoids another swing and instantly ducks low, trying for a leg swipe that fails as the blade follows after him. He rolls away and bounces back to his feet. “That was me, fucker. What kind of owner are you, leaving a poor, defenseless Bandersnatch out in the rain?”

The Red Knight doesn’t say a word, but his breathing grows more ragged and his swings more and more erratic the longer Jason runs his mouth. Despite that, he doesn’t provide an opening, his offense seamlessly blending into defense the few times Jason attempts an attack.

And then it's there.

But the opening isn’t there for him. It’s for the Cheshire Cat.

Tim-Cat leaps from his perch on the desk, claws extended, leaving the flashlight behind. He lands on the Red Knight’s back with a feral howl, slashing at the material comprising the Knight’s armor. “Give it back! Give it back!” he growls, sending shreds of metal and fabric everywhere.

Jason is momentarily startled because those very same claws were digging into his shoulders this morning, but then he’s moving, taking that step into the reach of the sword and grabbing hold of the Knight’s wrist, wrenching it wide and away from him.

They struggle for control, the Knight not completely out of the game yet even with the Cheshire Cat still wreaking havoc from behind. The Knight tries to redirect them, crowding closer to the still open doorway leading down into the cave, but Jason plants his feet, adjusts his grip, and sends the helmeted man head over heels.

Tim-Cat jumps gracefully from his back to land on his feet, pivoting smoothly to kick the vorpal sword out of the Knight’s hand. “If this sword belongs to anyone, it’s me,” he hisses, picking it up while staying well out of reach.

Jason can’t fault that logic, but he’s got other things to deal with. He’s quick to follow the Red Knight to the floor, pinning him and making a point to drive his knee into the shredded remains of what looks like a flak jacket. There’s no time to question the material, out of place as it is in this dreamscape, as the Knight finally makes a sound, a harsh grunt that turns into a growl.

The cowled helm turns toward the Cheshire Cat. “Mine,” a deep voice rasps out.

“Nice try, asshat,” Jason replies, digging his knee in harder to force another pained grunt. “But that sword belongs to the White Knight.”

Technically, it probably belongs to the White Queen, but he has no plans to get between Tim-Cat and Babs when they try and figure that out.

“Mine,” the Red Knight says again, this time trying to inch his way along the floor toward the Cheshire Cat despite being immobilized.

“Single-minded, aren’t cha?” Jason comments. He has his hands full trying to keep the Knight still. The big man twists and squirms just like he does whenever Dick or Bruce manages to pin him on the training mats. Dick, the annoying fucker, likes to sit on him.

“He sure is,” Tim-Cat replies. He carefully tucks the sword into his belt and picks up the flashlight, shining it in the Knight's face. “This is the first time any of us have managed to get this close to the Red Knight. The White Queen will be generous in her reward if we find out who's under that helmet.”

“Whatever, just make it fast. I can't secure him without your help.”

“Mine,” the Knight growls, sounding more frustrated than before.

“That shiny piece of metal doesn't belong to you, big guy,” Jason replies, adjusting his grip while contending with a wild buck from the man beneath him. Looks like he's not the only one on an adrenaline fueled high. “This’ll be a lot easier if we tie him up. I got cuffs and zip-ties in my outer pocket. Grab ‘em for me, will ya?”

“I have no idea what a zip-tie is,” Tim-Cat states, but he gamely digs through Jason’s pockets anyway.

“You’re doin’ just fine.” Jason guides his partner through how to use the sturdy, Bat-approved, pieces of plastic. Once the Red Knight’s absolutely wicked gauntlets are removed, his hands are easily secured. However, when the Cheshire Cat tackles his legs, the bound man doesn’t make easy for him.

“We could just kill him,” Tim-Cat snarls after a near miss with a heavily booted foot. “For all we know, he’s the one who killed my Knight in the first place.”

The callousness takes Jason aback as he finally releases the Red Knight and kicks him solidly in the ribs to keep him from moving. The knees of his uniform are wet and tacky with blood. “You mean you don’t know who killed him?”

“The White Queen never told me who it was.” Tim-Cat’s voice takes on a sorrowful tone before firming once again. “Maybe she’ll let me have this one’s head.”

Jason rests a hand on the Cat’s shoulder, forcing him to look up. “Hey. Far be it for me to tell you not to take your revenge, but I just gotta point out a little something.”

“What?” Tim-Cat asks warily.

“Revenge won’t bring back the mome-raths.”

The Cheshire Cat chokes back a sob, brushing away tears that suddenly glisten in his bright blue eyes. “You’re right,” he says after a moment. “You’re completely right.”

“It happens sometimes.” Jason shrugs, then nods toward the Red Knight who has finally stopped squirming. “Let’s unmask him.”

He straddles the broad back and feels around for the hidden catches in the helmet while Tim-Cat holds the light steady. Oddly enough, they’re in the same place he has them on his own hood.

Jason’s guts suddenly feel like lead and his hands tremble faintly as he draws off the Red Knight’s helm. It can’t be. Even his brain won’t do that to him.

Right?

Tim-Cat gasps and drops the flashlight, falling to his knees as his already pale skin loses what little color it had.

The Knight coughs and raises his head, glaring balefully as he tries to buck Jason off him again. “Mine,” he growls, eyes locked on the Cheshire Cat. “My Cat.”

Jason knows without even looking who the Red Knight is, who he’s been fighting since he leapt out from the clock. The irony isn’t lost on him.

He’s been battling himself.

Okay, so his subconscious really is that jacked up because what the fuck? This is so much deeper than Jason wants to explore, not right now when he’s so close to the end.

Tears are streaming down Tim-Cat’s face as he falls to his knees before the bound Red Knight. “What happened to you? I can’t... I can’t sense you!”

Jason shoves his own feeling about everything to the side to deal with later. He’s got an idea thanks to another Wonderland-themed villain back home. “Even without the helmet?”

The Cheshire Cat doesn’t even spare him a glance. “No,” he replies after a moment.

“Hmm...” Jason removes a glove and runs a hand through the Knight’s matted hair. Just above his left ear, he finds a small lump that shouldn’t be there. “Gimme that light, would ya?”

Tim-Cat numbly complies.

The Knight doesn’t like any of this and continues to struggle toward his cat.  

“Hold still, would ya? If I’m right, I know why you’re not in your right mind anymore.” Jason angles the light over the bump and pushes away the hair as best he can.

Sure enough, there’s a scar, about an inch long and as thick as Tim’s pinky.  

“What is it?” Tim-Cat asks, rousing himself from his grief. Considering what he said just before they unmasked the Knight, he’s probably feeling like a complete and utter ass.  

“Something was done to his head. I’ve seen this in my world before, but always with hats.” Jason frowns and runs the pad of his finger lightly over the spot. There’s no give. “I can feel something under his skin.”

“Get it out,” Tim hisses.  

“I’m not exactly prepared to do brain surgery, Cat. This could be right under the skin or have wires all over his brain. I don’t about you, but do you really want him to have permanent brain damage if I’m wrong?”  He quietly shudders at the memory of Mad Hatter Brucie. The last thing he wants is to turn any version of himself into that.  

“Then we need to get out of here and return to the White Queen.” Tim-Cat rise smoothly to his feet. “We have what we came for. Help me carry him.”

The thought of lugging the Red Knight all the way across the garden isn’t appealing in the slightest, but Jason can’t see another alternative. “I don’t want him fighting us the whole way,” he says instead. “Think you can calm him down? He’s reacting to you instead of the sword. I think...”

It’s vaguely reassuring that the Knight won’t take his eyes off his Cat. Even out of his mind, he knows the one he loves most. Do he and his Tim have this kind of bond? That’s actually kind of terrifying now that he thinks about it, but also rather reassuring.  

“That’s easy enough to test.” Tim-Cat hands him the vorpal sword. “Now give me some space.”

Jason juggles the sword and the flashlight momentarily and stands, leaving the Knight to squirm around on the floor.  

Sure enough, the Knight completely ignores Jason and the sword. “Mine,” he says again and tries to inch his way toward the Cheshire Cat.  

“Was his vocabulary more extensive before all this?” Jason asks, trying not to be a complete and utter dick.

“It was.” Sadness etches itself across Tim-Cat’s face as he kneels again and brushes a claw over his Knight’s cheek. The large man presses against the touch as best he can. “He was the finest poet in the White Queen’s court.”  

There’s a quiet dig there, but Jason pointedly ignores it. His Tim has no problem with how he speaks, fuck you very much. “Okay, let’s find something we can bind his back with and get the hell outta here.”  

He glances toward the still-open clock and the dark abyss beyond. It’s like a gaping maw of nothingness, waiting to swallow anything that gets trapped in its grasping claws. A chill breeze moves the stagnant air in the study, damp and with a metallic tang that he knows all too well.  

Blood.  

Closing the door seems like a good idea. A really good idea. Keeping the light aimed away from it, Jason lays a hand on the grandfather clock and pushes with exactly the right amount of force learned through night after night of racing Bruce down to the cave after dinner so they could get ready for patrol.

It doesn’t move.

Frowning, Jason shoves harder.

Still nothing.

Tim-Cat looks up from his Knight. “This is the Red Queen’s castle. She can do whatever she wants in here.”

That much is obvious. Jason abandons the door and crosses the room to the window, his strides long and hurried. He’s starting to feel trapped. Trapped in this house, in this world, betrayed by his own mind.

He needs to get out of here. He needs to wake the fuck up.

One of the curtains is ripped from the window, heavy and dusty, but Jason doesn’t think the linen closet off the laundry will be any better and he doesn’t dare venture back upstairs to see if the house morphs back into Arkham Asylum or remains Wayne Manor. The Knight isn’t cooperative unless Tim-Cat is where he can see him, whispering soothing words and lightly caressing his cheek as Jason tends to his back.  

There’s an almost childlike quality about the man. Innocent in a way, at least when he has what he wants.  

Jason is self-aware enough to recognize he’s seeing a certain aspect of his personality here, one that never has a chance to appear these days. Or does it? He spares a moment to think about their quiet afternoons when they first wake up, where both of their guards are down, still muddled by sleep. Their video games and movie nights. Hell, even the occasional food fight when they both are feeling particularly sassy and are making dinner together.  

What’s interesting to see is that each memory has Tim associated with it. Is he the key that fits into the lock that shields and protects that part of himself that had so few instances to reveal itself as a child?

When he wakes up, he’s got a hell of a lot to think about. Maybe he’ll even take the time to do it.  

Jason sighs and finishes the quick dressing for the jagged slashes ripped into the Knight’s back by his lover’s claws. Those are going to hurt later and he’s sure the Cheshire Cat already feels guilty as hell. He rips another curtain from the window for the makeshift sling they’ll need to haul his dream-self around in. Considering the distance, they’ll need it, especially since the Cat insists they can take turns once they’re out of here.

“Assuming we get out of here in one piece,” Jason says in a low tone, glancing at the grandfather clock. It’s been deathly quiet since the Red Knight emerged from the stairwell leading down to the cave and he doesn’t like it one bit.

Tim-Cat follows his gaze. “I would sooner die than lose my Knight again,” he states evenly, almost as though he’s making a vow.

Jason frowns, but doesn’t poke. For all that this is just a dream, it’s sure as hell masquerading quite nicely as reality.

The Knight doesn’t like being so close to Jason once they get him into the sling but settles once Tim-Cat shushes him. “Mine,” he repeats, glaring at Jason.  

“I know, buddy. I know. Don’t worry, I got my own Tim.”

It’s slow going as they make their way out of the room, even after stripping the Knight of most of his armor and weapons to lighten the load. Apparently even dream versions of himself are heavy as fuck. The vorpal sword is now sheathed and strapped at Jason’s waist. The argument that Tim-Cat should just teleport and take it directly to the White Queen fell on deaf ears.  

“She tasked you with returning it, not me.”  

Damn logic.  

When they reach the foyer, it’s completely dark, the fire from the sitting room no longer burning cheerfully against the gloom. The darkness feels more oppressive than before. There’s a weight to it, one that drags and bites at his ankles with each step he takes. Jason swallows hard and gamely continues on toward the front door, the flashlight illuminating the way.

Something is watching them, waiting. Biding its time. He’s been in the game long enough to know.

Tim-Cat senses it too but doesn’t move from his spot at Jason’s side and keeps the light aimed on the door. His ears are upright, alert and twitching from side to side trying to pick out where the attack will come from.

They’re just a few steps from the door when the house itself groans, loud and low as the very foundations shake around them. Jason staggers, almost falling to his knees as the black and white tile cracks around them.

A voice speaks up, echoing around them so that it appears to come from everywhere.

“Ja-son. Jaaaa-son. Come out, come out wherever you are. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”

Jesus Christ, he’d know that voice anywhere, even without the insane laughter at the end.

“Move.” Jason all but shoves his way forward and grabs hold of the doorknob.

“He’s been released!” Tim-Cat sounds frantic, eyes are wide and wild, neck craning as he tries to look around everywhere at once. “Oh, White Queen, the Jabberwocky is free.”

A second voice joins the cacophony, higher pitched, and no less mad.

“HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE! Puddin’ wants to play!”

Jesus fucking Christ on a goddamned crutch. He’d almost forgotten about Harley. This dream has definitely reached nightmare-level proportions. He tries to open the door.

It’s locked and won’t budge.

“Fuck.” Jason yanks out one of his guns, ready to shoot the damned lock when the Knight speaks up.

“Sword.”

“Huh?” He looks over his shoulder at the Knight. They really could be twins, mirror images of each other.

“Sword,” the Knight repeats, gaze intent and oddly lucid compared to earlier.

What the hell does he have to lose? Jason holsters the gun and draws the vorpal sword instead. “Here goes nothing,” he mutters, silently praying he doesn’t break the sword on the lock. Swords aren’t exactly designed to break down doors.

Another chilling round of laughter echoes through the house and it shudders again. “Jason. Jaaaa-son. Why are you running away? You’re so much fun to plaaaaay with.”

Fuck. No.

Jason swings the sword, the downward stroke cutting right through the door with an audible snicker-snack.

“Again!” Tim-Cat and the Knight both cry out.

Another swing and the vorpal sword cuts through the wood like silk, the snicker-snack growing louder and louder with each stroke.

Jason sheathes the sword and kicks at the warped wood. Thick panels fall outwards, and Tim-Cat rushes through the gap, turning to pry at the loose boards to widen hole for him and the Knight.

The Jokerwocky’s and the Red Queen’s cackles grow closer. Jason can just imagine the Joker prowling the halls of Wayne Manor, rictus grin wide and those yellow eyes sharp with intent. To him, this is when the Joker is at his worst, because there is a keen intelligence behind that gaze, one that knows exactly what he’s doing and doesn’t give two fucks about it.

It’s the expression he wears when all he wants to see is the world burn.

“I have a crowbar with your name on it, little birdie. Which do you prefer? Forehand? Or backhand?”

Fuck this shit.

Jason takes a couple of steps back, puts his head down, and charges toward the door. The Red Knight shouts with unbridled glee as they crash through and onto the wide portico beyond.

Full night is upon them and the storm has mostly passed, leaving nothing but a full moon and hazy starlight to see by. The cool dampness from the rain is welcome in his lungs after the dry stale air of the house. Everything is still, nature herself cowering in fear over the presence of utter evil.

From outside, it looks like Arkham Asylum again.

Jason breathes deep but doesn’t stop moving. “Come on. We’re sitting ducks out here.”

Tim-Cat lopes down the stairs with easy grace, the flashlight leading the way.

Behind them, the house groans and the Jockerwocky’s cackle turns into a howl of rage.

“You’re not playing fair, bird boy! If it’s a whoopin’ you’re awantin’…”

They’re almost to the hedge when the bolt of lightning comes out of nowhere to strike the overgrown path behind them, knocking them to the ground. Jason struggles to regain his feet, but the Knight is heavy and is fighting against his bonds once again, groaning incoherently in Jason’s ear.

Tim-Cat bounces back up and rests a hand on his Knight. “I’m okay,” he soothes. “We’re going to be okay.”

Jason is seriously starting to doubt that. “Was that the Red Queen or the Jabberwocky?”

“I’ve no idea but get up and keeping moving. If we can make the garden, we’ll have a better chance at escaping.”

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA  

It sounds even closer than before.

Jason crawls his way upright and glances over his shoulder.

Standing on the wide portico before the broken door is the Joker. At the same time, it’s not as he seems to morph into some demonic hell beast before settling back into the more familiar human form. If Jason were to hazard a guess, it’s almost as though he can’t make up his mind over what form to take. The one from his worst nightmares or the one he expects to see given the situation.

His breath seizes in his chest.

The Joker can’t decide on a form because his own mind can’t figure out which is more terrifying. This hallucination is clearly gearing up for some epic climax and has stalled because his own subconscious doesn’t know what it wants to be afraid of more.

He’s in complete control if he can just make a fucking decision.

Jason strips the shoulder rig carrying the Knight from his shoulders and lowers the man to the ground.

“What are you doing?” Tim-Cat asks as Jason cuts the bindings from the Knight’s feet. “We need to run. Now.”

“Yeah, you do. And as strong as you are, you can’t carry him alone.” Jason gives the Knight a firm look. “Listen to me, buddy. I know you’re in there. I know what it’s like to be trapped with no fucking way out. But there is always a way. Don’t stop fighting whatever it is that’s in your head. You have your Cat back and he’ll do his damnedest to help save you. Listen to him and you’ll soon be free.”

That odd clarity returns to the Red Knight’s, no, the White Knight’s eyes. “Mine,” he says, glancing at Tim-Cat.

“He’s all yours. I have my own waiting for me back home.” Jason helps the Knight stand and Tim-Cat takes his hand.

“You’re going to fight the Jabberwocky.” It’s not a question and they both know it.

“Yeah, I am. He’s been in my nightmares long enough.” Jason draws the vorpal sword and salutes the Cheshire Cat and the White Knight. “It’s been real, Cat. Now go and save your Knight.”

Tim-Cat nods solemnly. “Maybe you’re not quite the asshole you’d like everyone to believe.”

Jason smirks, knowing it’ll get under the Cat’s skin because it sure as hell does with his Tim. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The Cheshire Cat returns his smirk and rises up on his toes to kiss the corner of Jason’s mouth. “Don’t die.”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it.”

Nodding, the Cat takes a firmer hold of his Knight and together, they disappear through the tunnel in the hedge.

Jason takes a deep breath. He really hopes he’s right about this because if he’s not, then he’s just signed his fucking death warrant for the second time. There’s no waking up from this, not if it goes south, fast. Raising the vorpal sword, he walks back up the path toward the house and the still flickering Joker. Harley is nowhere to be seen, but that doesn't mean she isn't lurking around, waiting for her own chance to strike. No use worrying about it now.

“Okay, you piece of shit. You wanna dance? Let’s dance.”

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Falcon of Detroit (DBH Connor Fanfiction) Chapter Two

~Phoebe's POV~

"This is the fifth damn bar! He better be here!" I shout as I exit my car with Connor close behind.

"We will find him, Phoebe. Please, calm down," Connor said.

"I am calm!" I bellow. When I realized I was still shouting, I sigh and calm myself. "Sorry, you're right. Let's just check this bar quickly."

As I was about to open the door, I realized androids weren't welcomed. Connor exchanged a glance with me before I grabbed his hand and dragged him inside with me, ignoring the "No Androids Allowed" sign. Inside, I spotted Hank right away. "There you are!" I stomped over to him and snatched the glass of scotch from his hand.

"Hey, give me back my damn booze!" Hank tries to seize the glass back, but I pull it out of his reach.

"We've been bar-to-bar trying to find your drunken ass!"

"We were lucky enough to find you at the fifth bar," Connor adds.

Hank looks over at the android and points at him. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Connor is our new partner. Our duo has turned into a trio," I smile, smacking his hand down. "It's not nice to point, Hank."

"We don't need help from a shitty piece of plastic!" The man snarls. "We've been fine up to this point!"

I was aware what happened to Hank's son, Cole, and knew why he abhorred androids with every fiber of his being. But, it still doesn't give him the excuse to think all androids are bad. "He helped me save a man from a rogue today. If he wasn't there, I'd still be stuck at the crime scene."

"Speaking of that, did you catch the shitty rogue?"

"No, but we'll find his trail soon enough with help from Connor. Now, play nice and finish your drink. Our new friend received a homicide report in the car and Captain Fowler wants the three of us on the scene ASAP."

"Fine, just let me finish my drink," Hank sighs, chugging down the remainder of his scotch. I felt my own throat burn at the sight of him downing the glass in one gulp. The man placed the cup down and stood up. "Let's get this over with."

Leaving the bar, Connor decided to tag along with Hank to direct him to the address. I smirked as I could see agitation in the Lieutenant's eyes continuing to rise and rise as he got behind the wheel. I got in my car with a snicker and drove to the scene.

Arriving, I saw Hank get out of his car, but Connor didn't budge. "Ugh, Hank..." I grumble. I exit my car and walk over to the passenger's side of the old vehicle in front of me. I opened the door and let Connor out of the car. "Sorry 'bout him. Like I said: he's not fond of androids."

"Thank you, Phoebe."

I close the door and we follow after Hank. When I crossed the holographic tape, one of the officers refused to let Connor pass. "He's with me," I call out. Reluctantly, the officer listens and lets Connor through.

"You don't talk, you don't touch anything, and you stay outta our way, got it?" Hank asked, a scowl present on his face.

"Got it," Connor simply replied.

As Hank was greeted by another officer, I leaned over to the android and whispered to him. "Don't listen to crankypants over there. You already helped me tremendously earlier today. Just be yourself." I know he wasn't human, but I hope he understood my words. I patted him on the back gently and entered the rickety and molded house.

"The victim's name's Carlos Ortiz. He has a record for theft and aggravated assault," I heard the officer explain as soon as the foul odor slaughtered my nose. I winced at the stench and entered the living room. "Stayed inside most of the time, they hardly ever saw him."

"Well, that gives us a small list of possible suspects," I spoke up.

"Detective Falcon, I've heard you're the best detective in all of Detroit. Pleasure to meet the famous Falcon," the officer greets.

"The pleasure's all mine. What else do you know about the body?"

"I'd say he's been there for a good three weeks. We'll know more when the coroner gets here." He then turns and looks at something on the floor. "There's a kitchen knife over here. Probably the murder weapon."

"Any sign of a break-in?" Hank asked, accepting a light from the officer to examine the body closer.

"The landlord said the front door was locked from the inside, all the windows were boarded up. The killer must've gone out the back way."

"Or they're still here. It's possible Mr. Ortiz knew our suspect and let him in willingly. Either that, or the killer was already living here with him," I stated.

"You suggesting the killer is his android, Phee?" Hank asked.

"Exactly, but we won't know for sure until we find it. Let's get searching."

"I gotta get some air. Make yourself at home. I'll be outside if you need me," the officer said as he left. Connor stood next to me as I examined what was written over the dead body in blood.

I AM ALIVE

"The font is neat and constant. Definitely not human."

"The question we should be asking is where the suspect is," Connor said. He then walked over to the knife, kneeled down, and took a sample of the blood.

"Err, Jesus! What the hell are you doing?" Hank asked, disgust written all over his face.

"I'm analyzing the blood. I can check samples in real time," Connor answers with his usual stoic expression. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you."

I placed a hand over my mouth to keep myself from bursting out with laughter as I watched the exchange. Hank's scrunched up expression remained. "Okay, just... don't... put anymore evidence in your mouth, you got it?"

"Got it," the android responds.

"Fucking hell, I can't believe this shit..."

A snort slipped and I quickly pressed my hand tighter against my mouth. Hank and Connor turned to me and I sucked in my cheeks to keep the laughter at bay. "Sorry. It's kinda stuffy in here."

"Whatever you say, Phee," Hank chuckled lightly.

I cleared my throat and headed into the kitchen. A chair was tipped over and I saw where the knife once was. What caught my attention was the metal bat lying on the floor. Connor followed me and scanned the baseball equipment. "Fingerprints can be found on the handle."

"Which means Mr. Ortiz used it. But, was it for self-defense or to assault the suspect? It's highly possible our suspect was a victim of our rigor mortis pal in the living room. Knowing deviant behavior, I know abuse is a common trigger in androids to become deviant. This wouldn't be my first case on the matter."

"I believe you're right, Phoebe. There are traces of thirium on the bat, as well," Connor stated.

"I'm gonna check the backdoor. You check the bathroom down the hall." I headed to the backdoor where a couple of officers were standing. "Any clues?" I ask them.

"Nothing, Detective Falcon. If there were footprints, they've been washed away in the downpour," Officer Hans answered.

"That only means two things: either the trail has gone cold or the suspect never left. Keep searching the house."

"But we've searched the entire house, Detective. There's no basement, either," Officer Brown states.

"Is there an attic?" I question. The officers exchanged glances and I knew from the looks on their faces that they hadn't checked for one. I rolled my eyes and searched the house for any access points in the ceiling. When I returned to the kitchen, I saw Connor was carrying a chair with him. "Where are you going with that chair, Connor?"

"The attic. There's an access point near the bathroom." He sets the chair under the entrance to the attic and steps up onto the seat. He moves the piece of wood out of the way and climbs up.

"Be careful," I warn. "If the suspect is up there, they might be armed."

"I will be fine, Phoebe," Connor said, sending me a smile. I bit my bottom lip as I watched him disappear into the attic. Hank stood beside me as we waited in silence. The sound of scuffling could be heard and we knew something was wrong. I tried to go after the android, but Hank held me at bay. Then, we heard Connor shout. "It's here, Lieutenant! Detective!"

"Guess you were right, Phee, as always," Hank comments.

"I wasn't able to confirm anything without Connor," I honestly state.

Hank rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. You don't need that damn machine around."

"Be nice to him, Hank. He helped me name three faceless men today who, not to mention, had their fingerprints burned off with hydrochloric acid. We couldn't even get damn dental records because the rogue dumped acid in their mouths! Also, we were able to save someone who was the rogue's next target."

"Only known him for a day and already defending him?"

"Hey, you would, too, if he helped find a lead when the trail was completely cold! Ten victims and none have been served justice just because we couldn't find a connection between them because of their missing faces and fingerprints. He's helped me more in an hour than that walking piece-of-shit Gavin has in a year!"

"That, I agree on," Hank sighed.

Connor exited the attic during the midst of our conversation with the deviant in custody. Officer Hans shuffles over and handcuffs the android and escorts him to his cruiser. "Guess this case is wrapped up," Hank said.

"Not until we figure out why the deviant killed Mr. Ortiz. We've got some interrogating to do back at the station," I said.

"Whoa, hold on! You've been working since eight this morning. I think you should head home and get some rest. Leave the interrogating to us," Hank stated.

"The Lieutenant is correct, Phoebe. You are showing signs of exhaustion," Connor exclaims.

"Did you scan me?" I inquire. He nods and I still refused to head home. "I'm going back to the station and finding out what the motive was behind this murder. Neither one of you are stopping me."

As I walked out, I heard Hank sigh in frustration. "I swear..."

-Detroit Police Department-

Watching Gavin interrogate the deviant made me want to flip the table and chairs. He was the worst at this job and I was desperately trying to slay my frustration to keep it from surfacing. Connor and Hank arrived just as Gavin gave up and left the interrogation room. "Nice try, shit-for-brains. You suck at interrogating people AND androids."

"Shut the hell up, Phoebe. I'd like to see someone else try with this shitty machine," Gavin scoffs. That was when Connor decided to step in and take over the interrogation.

Hank, Gavin, and I watched from behind the glass as the deviant became stressed with Connor's questioning. As we heard every word, the deviant glanced at the glass and seemed to be directing his teary gaze towards me. He then pointed directly at me without hesitating. "Amadeus wants her. He told me himself."

Connor glanced towards the glass before directing his gaze back to the deviant. "Who is Amadeus and why does he want Detective Falcon?"

"I-I don't know! He didn't tell me why!"

I felt Hank's eyes on me as I swallowed hard. "Do you know why?"

"No. I have no idea. Is Amadeus a deviant or a rogue?" I ask. Hank then enters the interrogation room and stands next to Connor, asking the same question.

"A rogue. He's a rogue android. He visited me the day after I killed Carlos and wanted me to join his alliance. I refused and he left without another word," the deviant answered.

"So, a rogue is trying to recruit other androids," I stated. "The rogue cases are rising, but most people who encounter a rogue shoot before asking questions. Deviants, on the other hand, are handed over to the police for questioning. This 'Amadeus' is failing in recruiting rogues and has resulted to turning to deviants."

"What's the damn point? Deviants don't want bloodshed like rogues," Gavin groans.

"He's trying to convert them into rogues. Why else would he turn to them?"

Gavin fell silent as Hank and Connor left the interrogation room. "We've no leads on this 'Amadeus' android," Hank huffs.

"Or why Phoebe is a target," Connor adds.

I grin and clap my hands together. "Things just got a lot more interesting."