#jazzhands posts

[knaiive]

suzie grew up with completely overbearing parents, suzie’s entire life was planned out for her before she was even born, and the bar of being good enough was something that they always held just out of her reach, whatever she did, whatever she did accomplish, high grades, 4.0 gpa, honor roll, perfect attendance, was another ‘okay, i guess. but,–’ and  ’oh, the neighbor’s kid did better! why can’t you be more like them?’.

suzie felt suffocated, trapped, looking for any release from the stress of her current life, especially as the years crawled by towards graduation.

near the end of her freshman year she tagged along to her first high school party with a classmate/childhood friend of hers, julie. that’s when she was introduced to joey, who would come to be a close friend. eventually, some time down the line, frank as well. her grades fell from straight A’s to C’s and occasionally B-’s, perfect attendance no more, and spotless student record no longer so spotless.

this was only the start of her descend into her life of ‘teenaged rebellion’, and she soon found who she thought of as a family within what they came to call ‘the legion’. and with them, for the first time in a long time, suzie was happy. she found the mask she and the others bore a comfort, an escape, breaking out from her shell, wild and bright underneath. it was a time to pretend to be someone else. someone who didn’t have a constant stress pulling her down, who didn’t have to care about ‘this’ and ‘that’ all the time.

the incident that lead the legion to be taken by the fog isn’t exactly something suzie looks back on with fond memories. the opposite, really. she was so honestly deeply truly terrified, so sure that she was going to wake up any second and it’d all be a bad dream. frozen in place due to the overwhelming sense of dread, shaking and teary eyed as frank took her hands in his, plunging the knife into that… creeps throat, since she unable to do it herself.

but even then, even in that moment, even when scared out of her mind, she wouldn’t of even dreamed about leaving them behind, because they were her best friends, and she loved them. so really, following them to the end wasn’t even a choice in her mind. she had told them she’d be there for them no matter what, it wasn’t something she planned to go back on.

even if she cried the whole drive up to the mountain, even with the anger and fear that boiled inside her… they were in this together, they always have been.

[meistoshim]

shiny new pinned be upon ye!!!

[callmearcturus]

Regarding the reception of Ilsa's death, what personally upsets me about it is that by refusing to interact with it on a story level (ie blaming McQ's misogyny, saying that it's just fridging), people completely miss out on the thematic richness of the movie, and how much that death influences that.

It's a pity that people aren't giving them any credit for the story because they focus on that part of it, so thank you for talking about it!

(Sorry, not really a question!)

(heads up this is gonna be a bitchy post!)

Yeah I am to a point that I'm becoming actively annoyed at the discussion around DR1 because I walked out of that movie both times like "I cannot BELIEVE what they're doing here with the IMF, with the ethos of the movies, I can't wait for ppl to get over their shock over Ilsa's death and actually think about the point"

and that has just not happened and it's so boring. To watch DR1 and go "i hate this movie bc Ilsa's death was pointless" and to keep thinking that even after you've cooled off is imo a media literacy failure. like, DID WE FUCKING WATCH THE SAME MOVIE?

did anyone else see Ethan's introduction to the movie, where he gets to play an elder member of this organization basically inducting and welcoming someone into the fold with a distant kindness?

did anyone else see how the Entity affects the entire western intelligence community and cements them as the villain while the IMF are fighting to maintain basic free will?

did anyone notice the purposeful contrasts, how everyone swayed by the Entity's potential power exist in flashy ultra modern sets while Ethan's team live in the warm shadows of old abandoned buildings?

how about the return of Kittridge, the spectre of history and obligation cast over everyone?

HOW ABOUT REFASHIONING THE MYTHOS OF THE IMF INTO A "CHOICE" EXPLICITLY MAKING ALL OF THESE PEOPLE SELF-SELECTING AGENTS OF OUTRAGEOUS ALTRUISM. I'm sorry but how the fuck are people not losing their fucking minds over the fact Christopher fucking McQuarrie has been building on this IDEA since Ghost Protocol, that Ethan Hunt doesn't believe in the trolley problem, that if you present him with a trolley problem he will try to kill himself pushing the trolley off the tracks, there are no acceptable losses even in the face of nuclear armageddon, and they made it fucking CANON

and then they made Luther and Benji go "well yeah that's the IMF, we all chose to be this kind of batshit fanatical to the preservation of life"

Ilsa died OPTING INTO THAT. she was never IMF, she was a loner who occasionally fell into the orbit of Ethan and co, and rather than leaving it up to Ethan to make a choice, she walks open-eyed to save a woman she doesn't even know because why would that matter do you get it yet, we're talking about themes here

I'm just. I get it. Or I got it. For the first few weeks after DR1 came out, ppl were sad that Ilsa died

but now that we are this far out from it and people are still saying "her death was pointless", my patience is done. you failed to read the movie. which pisses me off because i am super into what this movie, this franchise, is trying to say!

anyway yeah my name is arcturus, i love ilsa faust, and i love that she died because her death fucking meant something /jazzhands

[mossypidder]

(I apologize to anyone who already saw and voted on this last night, the post broke on my end so I’m reuploading it)

The poll is too split, so. Here's the compromise. *jazzhands*

However. I was wondering. Would you pay slightly extra for him to come with a little ‘Care and Raising Manual’ zine and/or adoption certificate?

[imtheiliad]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Tagged by @911onabc and @elvensorceress 💕💕💕

I made a silly post, @usercowboy made me emotional about stickers….*jazzhands*

The stickers flutter out of the bag, the rainbow standing out against the black backgrounds and white text. And once he’s done with the task at hand he grabs his waterbottle from the dishwasher. He easily places the two stickers he bought somewhere on the bottle, one perfectly sized to cover the logo. But he finds himself fussing over the placement of the little rainbow. Which feels stupid. It means nothing. It’s a little rainbow. It’s cute. Could mean anything. But he decides to put it on the bottom anyway. Just for him.

Tagging @buckleysbee @speaknowdiaz @destielbuddiepipeline @honestlydarkprincess @enchantedbuckley @usercowboy

[bloodgulchblog]

Seeing posts that make me think about stuff! (This is not in a negative sense! I enjoy thinking and think it's good for me to re-evaluate my biases.)

I do think the most hardcore canon-text answer re: shipping the Chief is not shipping him with anyone. I also think this does not bother him, and that read-as-written he probably does not have some kind of inner secret forgotten yearning for romance.

And this matters to me a little bit because *jazzhands* local real human being making this post also does not feel those things or have that need.

But also, it's fun to figure him out with people. It's easy to figure out why other characters might be into John, and even though I'm mostly joking re: canon (Arbiter's Giant Warrior Crush is one of these jokes) I think it's possible to read multiple characters as having very strong feelings about him, even if you have to do a little work to make it romance. He has a lot of very good qualities and is a very impressive dude.

It's a lot harder to work out a situation where he himself feels like reciprocating anything is in any way a good idea or something he would want to do, both because of how he views himself and because of how I see him having concerns about his impact on others. Even if something feels personally good for John, which... John is bad at emotions and especially his own in the first place? I think he doesn't value his own feelings and considers them not worth jeopardizing anything else he values more (the mission, the safety and wellbeing of others) with any stupid fumbling on his end for reasons he thinks would be selfish.

(Also this is not even getting into how I feel like what a romantic emotion could be for John, if he had one, is maybe not very typical. But I would have to really dig in to talk about that topic and I don't want this post to get even longer.)

And because it's hard, it's like a puzzle and that's fun for me. Sometimes I can't even make it work when I am my most honest, but I am still compelled by the effort.

....Anyway everyone can do whatever they want forever re: shipping or not shipping the fictional character in any way they want and I wish everyone good fortune on their endeavors even if we diverge from one another.

[incognitobird]

So I Got 5 Notes on the Maze Map

that means y'all get the other maps now that I am done with the alchemists!

These are my rough drafts and final drafts, once I finish exile on my switch I will be starting a new play through on my computer and start screen shots!

Devotees:

the first image is my two rough drafts, this entire project is starts and stops and redo but after this one I started streamlining it better!

Warriors:

this one features my notes from my first play through! I was MASSIVELY sleep deprived and fucked up my own written notes and just kept going circles in the warrior levels and got sick of getting lost, I used that to make the cleaner one.

Bards:

Bards! not much to say on this one kinda found my flow by the time I hit this point and the only thing really worth commenting on is thay fuckin sewer maze I spent hours mapping but that was covered in my previous post.

Alchemists:

this rough draft is the *worst* but in my defense the Alchemists like to ruin my brain. (in my first play through I had been playing the game for 9 hours, it was 3 am, I had missed an entire room at the start and I hold grudges)

no exiles map just yet because I'm not ready to experience the Horror Game stage yet. (I love this game so much and it manages to touch on the type of horror that ACTUALLY fucks with me) but JAZZHANDS base maps!!

once I finish exile it will be on to screenshots and driving myself to insanity with screenshots scaling and piecing things together!

[tealin]

Hi, I'm not sure if anyone's already told you (and feel free to delete this!) but the tumblr version of your blog update has no images - the blog post seems fine, though, and your drawings are great!

Yeah, I know; it's some sort of fault with how it crossposts from Squarespace. The code is all fine; literally all I have to do to fix it is hit the 'edit' button and then 'save' and the images show up. <jazzhands> Technology! </jazzhands> I just have to remember I have a post queued up and jump on that edit button as soon as it hits Tumblr.

Anyway the pictures work now.

[merlinemrys]

This post of yours very violently inspired the everliving shit out of me (specifically that whole supernova business) and while I do not yet have an entire **thing** (jazzhands) yet I wanted to share (very) few (only partially finished) lines that my brain just speed-processed and ejected like explosive diarrhoea

In shadows smth smth, A star's destiny foretold with mystical might, A kingdom of light born in demise, In destruction's wake, a masterpiece shall rise.

smth smth...

For stars, like kings, must embrace their fate, In the brilliance of destruction, a legacy awaits.

As I said it isn't much atm but I will tag you when I am done bc you flipped some fucking switch in my brain and its going zoom zoom rn so I most humbly wanted to offer my gratitude

OMG. SCREAM .

SCREAM

i'm obsessed w this thank u i WILL be sitting here waiting patiently (i am frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog) <3

[unearthlycat]

(my own prev tags for clarity: #also this post spawned multiple side paragraphs in the headcanon doc about slugcat kinship terminology so *jazzhands* yippee)

it is not, although i have posted snippets from it occasionally! (the names post on my other/main blog is partly from there, in fact.)

it's this monster:

I can share the relevant snippet though! (Spruced up with some fancier formatting than a block of plain text and handwritten html tags...) (Also I realize there's some slugcat gender stuff that's indirectly referenced/mentioned but not explained in here but that would have been like another ten paragraphs from elsewhere in the doc to cover so i'll leave it out for now lol)

In Surv and Monk's colony, especially, colonymates are like extended family, with certain familial terms used to address others of equivalent ages to those roles (similar to many human cultures):

Adults to other potentially-related colony adults that aren't their mates tend to refer to one another as "cousin"

Adolescent and young adult slugcats will typically address any pup as "little one"/"little sibling" until they have had pups of their own (or are about that age). Even after that, "little one" is still a common way to address pups, and "little sibling" for juveniles/young scugs that aren't one's own child

Similarly, most pups will address older juveniles as "big sibling" honorarily. Survivor and Monk would generally not address one another by name -- younger siblings would address elder as "big sibling", and older sibling would typically address younger/pups as "little sibling".

Gourmand (and as an adult, Monk) would be addressed by an honorific for their role/gender -- something like "aunt/uncle" and "teacher"

A form of "mother" is used as a respectful honorific for any Mother slugcat, regardless of personal relation.

"Stranger"/"guest" are used to politely address non-members. The former is sort of the default non-rude way to address a non-colony-member, while the latter is nicer and suggests honorary membership or long-term presence in the colony.

Rivulet's colony uses the equivalent of "aunt"/"uncle" pretty freely as the typical way to address any familiar slugcat who is around your parents' age/notably older than you but not ancient, and similarly with "grandparent" for much older slugcats and "little sibling" for immediate juniors. "Cousin" is a polite term of address for any slugcat one wishes to suggest social kinship with, but is only occasionally extended to other sapients like Scavengers (in which case there is an intentional implication of inclusion/welcoming.) "Stranger" is normal for "other" sapients like scavengers and sometimes iterators, but a bit rude to use for another slugcat and often suggests an *outsider* outsider, potentially hostile.

Artificer's colony was less strongly organized/social and used fewer specific honorifics, but did have a similar usage of "Mother" as respectful address of any Mother slugcat (by their colony's definition of the role), and used "aunt/uncle" as a sort of generic address for a respected usually-older slugcat, sort of like Riv's colony's use of "aunt/uncle" and "grandparent" combined, and used "cousin" for any slugcat related closely enough to acknowledge but not either aunt/uncle/grandparent, parent, or immediate sibling.

Other notes:

Rivulet addresses Moon as "auntie" because they feel like "grandparent" would be a bit rude -- like, technically she's older than any slugcat alive, but iterators are different, y'know?

If they ever meet, Rivulet would also call Arti "auntie" and it would be really weird.

Also, assuming this is in-timeline and Monk would be much older at the time of meeting, Monk would probably call Riv "little one" half-jokingly and Riv would be like ??!? do i LOOK like a baby to you??? (actually wait don't answer that--)

thinking about Spearmaster and Gourmand friendship…

Gourmand trying to figure out if this Weird Purple Spiky Creature is a threat to the colony or not, eventually realizing it is just a very weird and awkward slugcat and then wanting to sort of welcome them but Spearmaster is very poorly socialized and skittish and clearly unsure how to approach things…

Spearmaster who has no idea how to socialize with other slugcats and feels intimidated but wants so badly to reach out, bringing Gourm's colony gifts in hopes of winning them over like Scavengers, and Gourmand caaaarefully trying to coax them into sticking around like "we're fine, you should join in and have some of this too, there's enough to go around"…

(Spearmaster being self-conscious about their way of eating freaking out other slugcats and carefully restricting themself to only eating a tiny bit, and only baby centipede or eggbug or other foods that they see other slugcats casually eating, or not eating at all, because they're afraid of appearing too scary/creepy and being rejected…)

but just like. imagine please:

Spearmaster, laying out a pile of like 5 unused spears, two badly skewered bluefruits and a live eggbug: [please dont kill me please dont kill me please dont kill me please dont kill me]

Gourmand, grateful but increasingly concerned and bewildered: ... Do you want to join us to eat before the rain, stranger? I am sure there will be enough to share!

Spearmaster, stuck behind a language barrier, sweating nervously, continuing to produce more spears: [FUCK]

[vloggerliam]

Liam: sings brilliantly on stage Y'all: he is so extra

Liam: releases a chill but effective bop as his solo single Y'all: OKAY but why doesn’t he do songs that show off his vocals

Liam and Zedd: release a spectacular single where Liam hits those falsettos that are his forte Y'all: is that Zayn

LMAO ARE YOU ALL LISTENING TO YOURSELVES?

[notyetbulletproof]

Jesper and Inej talking about Kaz is so beautiful. That whole exchange tells us so much about their dynamic and their pull to Kaz.

I know it ultimately changes (cause spoilers (that are already starting to take shape!)) for Jesper and that Kaz doesn’t regard him in the same way (but sees him as family!) but it’s wonderful insight regarding his motivations for staying beyond the repayment of debts. The idea that these two people feel drawn to Kaz and for that are “the same kind of stupid”.

That whole scene is written so well. Even Jesper’s acknowledged envy but no hatred or unnecessary drama towards his friend, Inej. Just a mutual understanding that, wow what is this life huh? And this dude, we both clearly love. What are we doing?

And knowing Kaz’s internal monologues, you know how much he values, (loves) and needs them even if he’s not yet ready to address it.

👏🏽

[ultprincess-a]

* && MAINS/EXCLUSIVES .

uhhh, y’know what? like this post to be mains/exclusives! 

my only real caveats are that we have to have interacted at least a couple times either ic/ooc (more so with exclusives bc. duh), and that the mains/exclusives status is mutual!

so. yeah, hmu! pls remember to specify for which muse if you’re a multi, (unless u just want. all of them added) and whether u want to be mains or exclusives, thank u!

[patchdotexe]

from this post:

og palanauts logo: Government Agent crossing limbo: ...okay i actually can't find this one. FOUND IT it's BlamBlam (edited) palanAUts: Government Agent, Orange Fizz louder and prouder: Orange Fizz, Damn Noisy Kids, Armor Piercing chasing velocity: Umberto, Vipnagorgialla (the SA2 font) leontids: Mondo Beyondo rescue v1: Damn Noisy Kids, Umberto, FireFight, Protest Paint rescue v2: Gameboy Gamegirl, bigup (edited), Protest Paint sol: Unicode 0024, Danube TK: Damn Noisy Kids, Midnight Snack, Vipnagorgialla zyd: bigup, Milky Well

most of these are from BlamBot except for the SA2 font (which i think i got off DaFont), Gameboy Gamegirl, bigup, Unicode 0024, Danube, and Milky Well (which i got from sites linked here)

also now you can see what i meant by having fonts i fall back on a lot lmao. this does not get across just how much i use Umberto. i also used to use FireFight a lot but ive moved away from it

jazzhands. fonts!

gimme a bit and i can list off all the fonts in that scuffed tutorial bc i still have all of em

[conjury]

“edda gave into madness” is frankly some wow-style writing (no offence) so i think it’s important to note that she has been horribly emotionally, financially and physically abused by everyone she’s ever come into contact with, (barring avere and the warrior).

she didn’t go crazy or snap, i think she just decided to reorganize her priorities. why try to heal people who can’t wait to hurt her and laugh at her again? why put effort into something when all it’s done is ensure that the only person who mattered to her doesn’t get to see another sunrise? in her mind, she killed avere because she couldn’t heal him fast enough.

edda knows what she’s doing is wrong. she knows that it’s bad and evil but being good gave her scars and tears. being good meant she had to bury her brother, her mother and the love of her incredibly short life in silence while people still laughed at her.

avere would hate her for what she did in tam-tara deepcroft. he would hate the lengths she went to bring back a monster that didn’t even bear passing resemblance to him any more--- and she doesn’t care.

in her mind, he’s worth ruining her own soul over. some people need to be alive, even if she destroys herself in the process and becomes someone he wouldn’t want to marry any more. she needed to try, for him. because she doesn’t deserve anything, but he deserved everything.

[laur-rants]

Transfiguration -- Ch 1: Awake

Fandom: Doom Rating: Mature, because violence against demons Pairing: Sam/Slayer [eventually] Summary: The Slayer has beaten the Icon of Sin, but the work is far from over. There is still much, MUCH to be done. Notes: Yeah. I said I’d write Doom fanfic. Why? Because it’s gay to travel between dimensions and realms just to meet back up with the demigod you helped create, and are determined to save humanity because of him. Anyway enjoy I don’t know what I’m even doing with this. *throws it into the void* AO3 Link Next Chapter

---------- "There is a common saying among the peoples of humanity; 'history is written by the victors.' It is one of their species's constants, a phrase found across the divides. Thus, it can be gleaned that regardless of realms, of region, that history is full of lies. Only those who lost their respective battles yet still managed to survive those considered to be the holders of the more accurate accounts of events. But how many survivors never tell the truth? How many live in fear, unable to share the knowledge they have born witness to?

"I refute being a fearful survivor. Though the 'victors' may say otherwise, I was advised to disappear by the Father himself, to run from my own species in order to save it. The words of prophecy have been set into motion; there are coming events even he cannot stop. I have seen the future, infallible now. The battle is lost, but not the war.

I am Samur. I am the holder of the witnessed truth. I will profess it to you as long as I am alive, and as long as I am able.

Father, if you are listening, please have mercy on my consciousness."

-- Book of the Maykr Samur, pt 1

When he wakes up, it is not in the bed he fell asleep in. He stares up at the bright white of a too-clean ceiling, hears the steady beep of machinery and -- voices, there were voices nearby. Too many for him to still be in the lonely fortress he calls home, a fact that is enough to clear any fog clouding his mind. In one swift movement he's sitting up, his body aching and protesting this sudden change in verticality but he ignores the pain entirely, legs swinging over the side of the bed in an effort to move.

One of the earlier voices shouts, clearer and sharper now-- definitely real and not like the fabrications he's used to. He ignores them for now nonetheless; more urgent is the machinery yelling at him from the bedside. He frowns, pulling off cords and sensors, highly disapproving of the medical gown he's found himself in. Damnit, where the fuck is my suit, he thinks, even as a doctor with black hair and green eyes behind jeweled glasses rushes over to put a hand on his chest and try and push him back down to a prone position.

"Ah, sorry, mister Slayer, sir," the doctor fumbles, trying and failing to even budge the man, the wall of muscle staying stubbornly in place. The aforementioned Slayer watches her take a step back, purse her lips, then push against him, a little more insistently. "I really need you to lay back down. You're already starting to bleed through your bandages."

He blinks and looks down through the smock; most if not all of his upper body was bandaged and wrapped. A particular wrapping on his left arm was indeed bleeding, the pain barely registering even as the splotch of red grows, spreading fast through the fabric. He lets out a small noncommittal noise (causing the doctor to jerk back suddenly in surprise) as he starts to unwrap the bandages himself. A group of nurses and medical staff immediately crowd into the room, urging the Slayer to please stop, to let them handle such work.

Sure enough, as the medical staff peel away the sticky fabric, a nasty gash is revealed, running from the top of his bicep to the underside of his arm all the way to the armpit. It had been sutured shut but as the Slayer had stood up it had easily popped open and was now bleeding freely. He looks to the rolls of soaked bandages, looks to his seeping arm, and appears... apologetic, of all things. The doctor sighs, gives the man known only as the Doom Slayer a quick look over, then fetches new bandages and sutures.

"You're probably wondering why you're here, and have a lot of questions." She looks over to him, expecting some sort of response-- but when he says nothing or doesn't refute her words, she clears her throat, pushing a lock of hair behind an ear. "Or perhaps not. Either way, we received a distress signal, and found your ship. You were in a rough state, possibly connected to the recent fight with the Icon of... Sin…"

She trails off as she sees the Slayer's face harden like stone. She coughs lightly a second time, the color rising to her cheeks. "Apologies. The original transmission was sent by Dr. Hayden himself, so ARC forces immediately responded -- but we did not expect to find you in an alien ship bleeding out on the floor, nor did we expect to see it powered by the Crucible, or to hear Hayden communicating from--" The doctor continued on, but the Slayer was far past the point of listening. Instead, his brow furrows, trying to recall what had happened post attack.

The fight itself had been a blur. The demons had fallen before his wrath and Dr. Samuel Hayden had been in his ear, egging him on until the end, when finally the Icon was there, the only obstacle still standing. It was only so long before the huge titan of Hell itself was falling to his might. He had stood tall, victorious, fueled by rage and adrenaline. And then Hayden had portaled him back... but from there, his memory begins to blur. How had he been injured, exactly? Surely he had at least made it back to his room before--

"Slayer? Sir?"

His eyes flick to the doctor and again his gaze is enough to make her flinch. His fist clenches before relaxing again. He sighs. He closes his eyes, steadying himself, before tilting his head at her in question.

Her throat clears. "You zoned out, my apologies. I wanted to let you know that your stitches are fixed and you're rebandaged. We recommend a few days bed rest -- you may not feel the pain and you will not die from the wounds but--" her eyebrows go up, shaking her head in mild disbelief, "--regardless of your perceived immortality... you are human and you need rest. Now. Do you have any questions?"

The Slayer scowls at her, and the longer she waits for an answer the deeper the scowl grows. Eventually he rolls his eyes, then gestures to his body. She seems to get the hint.

"Oh, your suit?" He nods. "It is in the other room, currently being cleaned. We can bring it in here if you'd like?" The Slayer nods, then crosses his arms --carefully, so the doctor didn't have to re-stitch his arm a third time. "I can also assure you that your ship is secure; Hayden made sure of that, and he is also currently working with ARC scientists to repair the parts of his body that were broken."

As the woman talked, her face grew more flushed, and she continued to avert her eyes. It was at this point that the Slayer realized her voice was familiar. He scrutinizes her, unblinking, head tilted, arms still crossed, before he finally clears his throat, prompting her to stop any rambling she was currently involved in. She squeaks and her cheeks go a bright red, but it is enough to stop her momentarily.

"Oh! Do you need water? Can you speak?"

Not to you, lady, is what he would've said, but instead he simply thinks it to himself while managing to shake his head in response to both. He sighs, sitting back. When even was the last time he was in a hospital? It was more than a lifetime ago, on a different Earth, in a different realm, with different doctors with similar agendas looking him over, wondering his secrets when he argued that he had none to give.

Now he had too many secrets and a vow of silence keeping him from spilling any of them. Not that he'd want to, anyway. And definitely not to this doctor in over her head.

"Of course, of course. Well, ah, if you need anything, my name is Dr. Elena Richardson. Feel free to call if anything, anything at all, is needed." She pats his arm awkwardly and it clicks in his memory; the audio logs. Good Lord, it was her. He gives her a brief nod and smile before looking away and she backs off, blessedly leaving him alone.

He sits there.

Then, less than a minute later, Slayer decides he's been sitting long enough.

Lost in thought, he swings his legs over the side of the bed, taking in the surroundings more fully. His room was isolated, a few monitors tracking not only his vitals, but a few other things, such as blood type, foreign bodies, a chart detailing his wounds. The room smells too clean, like when someone needs to disinfect every inch of every surface, but at least it wasn't tainted with the smell of blood and corruption. At least, not yet.

Or perhaps, not anymore.

Perhaps there was a reason for the burning scent of bleach in his nose, after all.

His fingers tap against the mattress, keeping time with an unheard beat, but then the tempo quickens to impatience. This was not going to be a place he wanted to stay, and certainly not for a few more days, let alone a few more hours. He looks around, glances at the ceiling and windows, checks his condition, and plans.

------

In a different room, in a different part of the complex, in a very different condition...the body of Dr. Samuel Hayden awakens.

Well. Perhaps awaken is not the right word. Waking up implies the lack of a consciousness, whereas Hayden has always been quite aware of his surroundings. For the past seven years or so he's been vaguely aware of scientists watching his body, was even roughly aware of the Doom Slayer as he pulled the remnants of his body away from ARC tech, tossing him unceremoniously through a portal onto the fortress ship the Slayer called home. Things became much clearer and sharper after connecting with the ship and drawing power from it; however, there was a difference between living within the confines of a ship's mainframe for the better part of a month, and being within a body that now fully functioned, with joints that bent when he willed them to. Having a robot chassis did make life complicated sometimes… but being able to return to functional legs years after they'd been ripped off, was definitely a bonus.

With the return of his fully-functioning cyborg body, the sleek black-and-white frame towering 3 feet over the next tallest person, he did feel conscious again for the first time in years-- so if that counted towards "awake", then the word was fitting for his current mental state after all.

"Thank you, Simon," Hayden says, refitting his right arm with his left, his blue LED blinking bright inside his skull. The bald doctor, overseeing the reattachment of the arm, just nods, fixing his glasses. "I think for now, that'll be all. Keep studying the ship while you can; if it can help rebuild me, it can help rebuild others."

His voice was deep, warbled, slightly digital; like it was still getting used to speaking from the chassis, and not from the ship's internal comm system. Nevertheless the scientist didn't seem to mind. He just responds with "of course, sir," and heads off in the direction of the door, passing many other scientists deep in their work as he does so. Hayden rubs a wrist and, --as a few ARC scientists flit around him, removing cables and wires full of man-made Argent-- he takes his first steps with his new pair of legs.

"We have much to do," Hayden states, with an air of authority and urgency. "With the Icon of Sin dead, we need to move towards eradicating any remaining demonic forces before those in space can return to Earth." He turns to the nearest scientist, a woman with bushy red hair and freckles. "How is our guest holding up?"

"Richardson has reported that he is awake and responsive, but we do not know how long he will tolerate being subject to more tests. He's already popped sutures simply by trying to get up."

Hayden tilts his head. "How long ago was this report?"

"An hour ago now." She checks her notes and then looks up at the towering cyborg. "Why?"

As if on cue, an alarm goes off. Hayden looks over, checking a nearby monitor: as suspected, it's from Medical Bay H. The redhead looks incredibly concerned, her eyes going wide.

"O-oh," she says, as a hulking form of muscle and sinew, dressed only in a medical gown, struts past a security camera. The subject looks around then walks up to a nearby doctor, tapping them on the shoulder before "borrowing" their key card lanyard. He uses it on a nearby door, tossing the lanyard back to doctor before entering the room and surveying the object of his desire: a powerful space-faring suit of alien make and design.

Hayden sighs. Of course. He turns away and walks towards the door.

"Sir?" Says the scientist manning the security camera. "Should we… can we… stop him?" There was a futility to his tone; everyone here had a right to be concerned. Even if the humans in ARC weren't corrupt or demonic, the collateral damage the Doom Slayer could cause was well-documented. The hole Mars now sported was evidence enough of what he was capable of.

"Invite him to see me in Complex Wing B, room 235. Don't try and stop him; I can guarantee you won't be able to." There's a dark chuckle there, a dry amusement, but Hayden shakes his head anyway. He continues his trajectory, leaving the room where had been reassembled, opening up a comm line with the Slayer directly.

"Long time no see, so to speak. How about we meet, face to face, one more time? There's much we need to discuss."