#nix watches films

[thenixkat]

Finally watched They Cloned Tyrone. Yeah, that was a good movie.

very interesting. Good use of anachronistic elements

liked the bits of mystery and surrealism. I think the comedic elements worked well and were a good balance to the fucked up elements

Also, I'm really happy that when Yo Yo said they had to help people she meant everyone, including the clones. Lotta works don't care about clones as people

[marcobodtseye]

GUYSSSSS LOOK WHAT I GOT

I love this movie with all my heart and I’ve already gone through this whole book so many times

FUUUFHHUHCK BEST 20 BUCKS IVE EVER SPENT. GOD

[nixerium]

I just watched The Woman in Black for the first time since I was 12 or 13 (for context we were watching it in English class, we’d won something book-related in school and got a free lesson)

I still firmly believe we shouldn’t have been watching it at that age - especially since the Wikipedia page says about the 12A rating at the time being controversial, as well as the fact it has a 15 rating on Google nowadays - but it sure isn’t scary now at 23

If anything it’s not even that good a film, but that’s just me probably

[kamjkaze]

Cal n Andre Halloween hcs to match the season 🎃🦇👻

Since Andre’s family is Jewish, growing up he was never allowed to celebrate Halloween. Any time that he would ask, his mother would lament about how they should have never moved to America where Halloween is so widely celebrated and so massively popular. Then, of course, she would scold him for wanting to do things that promote witchcraft, blah blah blah. Though, I imagine Andre’s father feeling a little bad and perhaps slipping the poor boy some (confirmed kosher) candy.

This idea, that Halloween was A. Not celebrated all over the planet and B. Was seen as “promoting witchcraft” by some was so outlandish to a young Cal.

I think one year, before the pair were old enough to nix the idea of trick or treating all together, probably the last year Cal himself would do it (in the desperate pursuit of cool), Andre would go with him. It was like his final gate into being completely American. Dressing up, probably as something edgy, grabbing a pillow case, and walking around neighborhoods begging for candy.

It’s ironic though, Andre didn’t really have any reason to go out and do it cause, at this age I think he lost his sweet tooth already. Though, it makes more for Cal, I think he has a shameful sweet tooth.

It’s a good memory for the both of them tho, Andre remembers coming back to the Gabriel family home and dumping out all his candy to sift through it. Cal’s siblings were in awe at the amount of candy they pulled in as a team. Their numbers in comparison were pathetic on account of Mrs. Gabriel demanding the kids come in earlier.

I think mrs Gabriel really enjoys helping her kids make costumes, whatever her kids demand she will supply. When cal was old enough to start asking for his own costume ideas, he always went as scary as he could. Blood drenched hair, big teeth, gashes, weapons. Whatever Cal’s mind could conjure as “the scariest costume ever” from the ages of 9 to 15.

Of course, that’s all as younger teens and children, as older boys, they do different things.

Call gets invited to the occasional party, usually on a good word by Rachel, and he attends for the most part. Always dipping out a little sooner than general populous but having a good time nonetheless. Usually he departs from these to go to Andres and comfort him about being the more socially ostracized out of the pair.

They’ll try to find some gorey ass snuff film to watch, get drunk, and steal some of the kids candy for Cal. I think they even get as “willing to have fun” as carving pumpkins, the results of those vary in level of skill and level of freakiness.

A cute idea is that one year, while they were too old to trick or treat but young enough to have some bones not made out of hate, they would bring Cal’s younger siblings into the basement for a little “haunted house” fun. Basically where Andre and Cal scared the shit out of them as much as possible. Be it, screaming in their face, grabbing them, whispering a spooookkkyyyy story before pouncing. If you go digging, there’s probably an old tape of it, Mrs. Gabriel will cherish that tape, that moment of innocence, of fun. I imagine there are many home videos like that, that she’ll watch on late nights after the tragedy.

[danopdf]

a real good life [winnix brokeback mountain au]

(image via pinterest)

a/n: winnix brokeback mountain au has been rattling around my head for a while now and I really want to write a full fic based off the film, but for now this is going to have to hold you over. crossposted on my AO3

warnings: angst no comfort, talks of cheating, language.

wordcount: 2356

========================

The weather was getting colder the further up the mountain they got, and Lewis being as sensitive to the cold as he is, had put his heavy flannel and jacket on when they had last stopped. Dick, on the other hand, was perfectly warm in his lighter work jacket and the slightly ruined flannel shirt that had become an outdoor staple over the course of their trips- partly because of the cold, but mostly because of how much Lewis loved to wear it when he woke up in the warmth of their tent.

“We should stop soon it’s going to get dark in about an hour.” He calls from behind Dick, spending more time watching the man in front of him sway on his horse, then watching the heard of sheep they were corralling, “and I’m cold.” Dick chuckles at that, shaking his head and reaching into the side pack on his saddle, digging around for a moment.

“How far to the next landing?” He calls over his shoulder, pulling out a dark brown wool scarf that he tosses to Lewis.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Then we’ll stop in twenty minutes.” Dick smiles when he hears Lew groan behind him, and Lew smiles when he wraps the scarf around his neck, tucking it into his jacket and burying his face in it, taking a deep inhale of the familiar scent.

Within the next twenty minutes, Lewis manages to groan at least twice more and yell at three sheep to “get back in line! You wanna get eaten by a wolf?!”

When they reach the top of the ridge Lew rides up next to Dick, looking over the small area, a few trees littering the mountainside. He turns his head and tilts the brim of his hat up to look at Dick.

“Do you want to cut the wood, or set up the tent?”

Nix leans his head back and groans again, and Dick takes a moment to indulge himself, watching the long line of Lewis’ throat and the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“Tent.” Dick’s eyes snap back to where they’re supposed to be and it takes him a second to nod, a second that has Lewis’ slight frown turning into a cocky half-smile.

======

It takes Nix nearly as long to set up the tent as it takes Dick to chop the wood for the night's fire, maybe it’s because Lewis doesn’t know how to set up a tent (even after 5 trips up and down the mountain), or maybe it’s because he spends more time watching Dick set up and swing the axe down, easily splitting the wood in two, pausing for an extra minute when Winters sheds his jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, the fabric hugging his strong arms.

“You okay?” Dick’s voice behind Lewis startles him, and when he takes a deep breath and feels the rise of Dick’s chest against his back he shivers for a moment, suddenly well aware of how alone they are. The redhead's hand slowly moves to Lew’s shoulder squeezing it tightly.

“Yeah- yeah, I’m- I’ve got it.” Lewis replies slowly, the words sticking in his throat like molasses, the brim of Dick’s light brown hat peeking into the corner of Lew’s vision.

There’s a small moment of silence between the two before Dick brushes his hand over the small part of exposed skin between Lewis’s (Dick’s) scarf and his hair, and then suddenly pulls away, turning to start the small fire he had set up, and leaving Lewis colder- and more in need of the fire- than before.

When the light is starting to fade over the far side of the mountain, Dick has his heavier jacket on, and Lewis’ hat is set over his eyes, his breath steady despite his mind running wild with thoughts of the man lying against the other end of a downed tree they had pushed close to their fire.

The fire warms their skin and heats the front of Lewis’ flask, making it hot to the touch and stinging his lip when he brings it up for a long drink.

“Drinking something new?” Dick’s voice is quiet and Nix can barely hear him over the crackles and pops of the well-built fire.

“Why would it be something new?” He grumbles from under his black cowboy hat.

Dick takes a breath and clears his throat lightly, “You…you said that you liked the whiskey that Kathy got you for your birthday last year.”

Lewis can feel his heart soften and he blindly fumbles with the cap back on his flask.

“The one from Pennsylvania…” He continues, his breath is shallow and Nix can feel the anxiety rolling off him in waves. He tilts the brim of his hat back to sit properly on his head and his eyes lock with Dick’s.

Lewis nods slowly and licks his lips.

“It was good…but when it comes to Pennsylvania, I prefer red wine.”

It doesn’t take Dick more than a second for the meaning to compute and for that familiar warmth to spread from the tips of his toes to the apples of his cheeks.

“How’s Etta?” The words sound polite but dull coming from Nix’s plush lips, he’s asking out of courtesy more than anything. Dick doesn’t say anything, just stares into the flickering flame.

“That good, huh?” Nix slouches deeper into the fur lining of his jacket, knocking his back back over his eyes.

There are a few moments where Nix thinks that Dick has given up on the conversation when he feels the warmth of the fire disappear, and before he can open his mouth to tell Dick to put another log on, a pair of rough lips press against his, the taste of the dinner they shared lingering on Dick’s lips and tasting familiar against Lew’s own- like going back for a plate of seconds. 

Lewis doesn’t move any more than simply pushing his lips forward, sighing through his nose, easily tilting his head a little more, and allowing the redhead to place one of his large hands on the ground on either side of Lewis’ hips.

Dick pulls back slowly and uses his pointer finger to wipe Lew’s lip, being sure to push just the very tip of his rough finger between them. 

Lewis lets the tip of his tongue run along the calloused pad of Dick’s finger.

“I missed you.” The redhead whispers, ducking his head and pressing their lips together again, Dick using his finger to open Lew’s lips further and slip his tongue inside. Dick presses closer and knocks their hats back, finally allowing Nix to open his eyes and take in the way Dick’s hair lights up in the flame, and how his freckles come and go with each flicker of the fire.

Lewis brings his hand up to push against Dick’s solid chest, gripping the fabric of his flannel tightly to push him back just enough so they can breathe. Their breaths mingle in the small space between them and when Winters opens his eyes and slips his finger from Lew’s glistening lips, they take a moment to look at the other, finally together after two years of letters and (on Lewis’ part) hushed payphone calls from outside some dingy dive-bar where after Dick hung up, he could pull some other broad-shouldered redhead into the bathroom and pretend for a while.

“I missed you too.” Lewis whispers, moving his other hand from his flask to run along the sideseam of Dick’s jeans.

“You need to stop calling the house.” That takes Lewis by surprise, his hand dropping away and going to the grass so he can push himself up straighter, forcing Dick to lean back so their heads don’t knock together.

“What?”

“When you called…last year, Dee-Etta picked up the phone, I knew it was you because nobody else calls after 7:30.” Lewis’ brows pinch together, “I barely had enough time to grab the phone from her before you started rambling about how upset you were that I couldn’t make it to Brokeback that year.”

The way Lewis is looking at Dick has the man swallowing nervously, his fingers cautiously pulling up small blades of grass.

“Why didn’t you write and tell me that then? You just had to say it now?”

“It didn’t feel right, telling you over the phone or in a letter… I thought this would be easiest.”

Lewis feels his stomach drop right through him, ‘Jesus Christ, he’s ending it.’ he thinks to himself, ‘giving me an easy break, in person because he can’t stand to do it through a letter’, his vision blurs and his lips part slightly.

Dick knows Lewis better than either of them would like to admit, and he can see the thought pass behind the dark eyes of his lover.

“No. Lew no, that’s not what I meant- I’ll call you, you can still write but you just can’t call-”

“That’s the problem DIck, you don’t call.” Nix pushes Dick off him and stands, grabbing his flask and cowboy hat, and rounding the other side of the fire, putting as much distance between them as he can, without leaving the safety of the fire’s light.

“Yes, I do-”

“Christmas day, 1962.”

“What?” Winters doesn’t understand, shaking his head.

“That was the last time you called me…3 years Dick.” Lewis’s words hang in the air and a minute passes with the only noise being the soft bleats of the herd. Exasperated he throws his hands up. “You don’t call Dick, or write. You know, friends call to say ‘hello’ or wish them a ‘Happy New Year’! It’s not out of the ordinary for men to call.” Lewis’s voice cracks and it kills him that his body is betraying him like this, putting him on display for Dick like this.

Winters is standing stiffly on the other side of the fire when he says, “She was starting to get suspicious.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit Richard-”

“She was going to figure it out if I didn’t make contact more scarce.” His voice is strained, like he’s nervous that Etta is around the corner, waiting to jump out and say that she’s finally caught them. “Etta thought I was having an affair-”

“That’s what this is Dick!”

“She’s pregnant.” That kicks the soul right out of Lewis’ chest and he stumbles.

“She isn’t going to work anymore, she doesn’t want any strain on the baby. She started cleaning out my office to make it a nursery and found your letters, she thought I was sleeping with another woman.”

A tear slides down Lewis’ cheek, his voice is painfully fragile when he murmurs, “so this is it?”

There’s a long moment where they’re standing on either side of the fire, watching the other breathe heavily before Dick whispers, “Yeah Lew…”

Lewis drops, legs giving out and hands trembling as he wipes at his face desperately.

“Nix!” Winters rushes around the fire, pulling Nix into his arms before he can collapse completely onto the cold ground and hurt himself.

Lewis rubs and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, hoping that if he rubs hard enough he will wake up in his own house, in the guest room down the hall from Kathy- that he will wake up in a world where this conversation never happened and instead, they simply spent the night in the tent, pressed together from lips to legs.

Instead of curling into his strong arms, Lewis shoves at Dick’s shoulder over and over until the redhead has to wrap Lewis in his arms with the flailing limbs trapped between their chests.

“I’m sorry.”

“I hate you!”

“I know.”

“You could have come with me, Kathy would never know! We could have had a life together!”

Lewis is sobbing into the collar of Dick’s jacket, and Dick has knocked Lew’s hat off so he can card his fingers through the dark hair.

Nix is too lost in the spiral of his own mind to feel anything outside of pure sorrow and betrayal toward the man he loves. He doesn’t feel Dick cradle his head to his chest, or when Dick shifts them into a more comfortable sitting position where he can pull as much of Lewis’ body against his as possible, but he does feel the soft patter of raindrops against his head- ‘when had it started to rain?’

He looks up at Dick and shifts him so they’re looking at each other, and ‘oh, there’s the rain…’

When the fire flickers just right Lew manages to catch the tears streaming down his lovers face, over his hard cheeks and dripping off his chin.

“I love you.” Dick murmurs.

“I love you, even when we’re worlds apart.”

Their kiss is gentle, and less about the kiss itself than it is about just needing to feel eachother, needing to know that ‘yes, I’m here, I’m not leaving just yet.’

Their noses are pushed together and their breaths are heaving, making small clouds of hot air form between them.

“I don’t want this to be over.” Dick’s voice is quiet, so unlike the usually sure and powerful man that Lewis is used to seeing over him.

“It doesn’t have to be! Dick, we can still be together, we can still come to Brokeback every fall- or you can come and visit me in Jersey, we’ll say we’re going fishing, and I’ll put us up in a real nice hotel, I’ll treat you right.” Lewis is begging him to think about it, begging him to say yes to that life, to them, to him.

“Lew…” and right then Nix knows from the softness of his voice- like cooing at a scared animal- what Dick’s answer is, “You know I can’t.”

“I don’t want our whole relationship to be defined by a few camping trips…I want to go dancing.”

The words hang between them, cutting Dick’s fragile heart in two.

“I’ll come to Jersey…we can go dancing.”

Lew’s dark eyes flicker across the freckled face slightly above him, searching for any sign of a lie.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

[every-moment-a-different-sound]

Hi Robin! Hope you're doing well <3 For the year in review asks: 13, 16, and 20?

Hi Olly 💜

Ooh thank you, these are interesting ones!!

13. What gifset was the most satisfying to finish?

That would definitley have to be this edit I made for the wonderful @dont-offend-the-bees' fic Though We're Strangers 'Til Now.

It was, and probably still is, the most ambitious edit I'd ever attempted. It took a lot of time and effort to make, and I had to learn so many new skills for it. I'd made a few edits previously, but I feel like I really did something of my own for that one. There's a lot I'd do different now having learned a lot of lessons from it (I def made life harder for myself in places lol), but I'm really proud of how it turned out. And I got to meet Newt through doing the Payneland week collab, which is brilliant because not only is Newt just such an incredibly talented writer, he's also the loveliest person ever and I adore him.

(If anyone hasn't read Though We're Strangers 'Til Now btw, go read it- it's fantastic!!!)

16. Do you have a favorite gifset you made this year?

Oooh tough one! There's a few that I considered- there's several edits I made for fics, and of course all of the gifs I made of charles chained up in Esther's kitchen definitley came to mind 🤣

But I think the one that I have to go with is the first gifs for AO3 comments post I made. I got to know @nix-nihili because of it, who very kindly let me use one of her fics to test the HTML on, and she's just the most amazing person ever! Plus I was later invited to a wonderful discord server because of that post, where I made so many wonderful friends who I can't imagine life without these days, including where I got to know you more, which has just been fantastic💜 I also had loads of fun making it, and I like the idea of doing something for our fandom community and making something that hopefully helps people like me that sometimes find it difficult or intimidating to comment on fics.

(Btw everyone please also read Nix's fic bright and burning!! It's wonderful!!)

20. What’s something you are expecting to gif in the upcoming year?

I still have only ever made gifs for Dead Boy Detectives, so probably more DBDA gifs 😂 I don't tend to watch very many films or shows, but there's a couple of films being released next year that I'm looking forward to, like The Old Guard 2, so we'll see if I might try my hand at making gifs for that.

Mainly though, I'm looking forward to finally finishing decorating and moving house so I have more time to make loads and loads of DBDA gifs. I have so many half-finished edits for fics that I'm excited to get on with. There's so many wonderfully talented people in this fandom, so I can't wait to see what everyone comes up with next year and be inspired by it all!

Gifmakers year in review post 💜

[ultraericthered]

A tale of two evil Disney kings.

I put this out not to make any statement about how one villain compares to the other, but to compare how similar in the spirit and the details of their evilness these two are; the last straight up Big Bad of a Disney animated movie before the next decade and the first straight up Big Bad of a Disney animated movie we've gotten since.

And I also want to touch upon something that confounds me.

King Magnifico, despite the film teasing at him being a nuanced and even sympathetic character at first, ended up becoming a villain vile and irredeemably heinous enough to be upvoted as a Complete Monster on TV Tropes. Majority vote approved, so that's fair. ...But Turbo, the dude with a similar rap sheet, is still not only ruled a non-example, he's in the "never to be discussed again" category for all the nixing of adding him to the trope ever since 2012. Because why, exactly? I am legitimately finding no good justification for this now.

Turbo locked away his subjects' memories within Sugar Rush's code without giving them any say on the matter (whereas with Magnifico it's at least a contractual arrangement between him and the people who give their wishes to him), and while the Sugar Rush characters don't appear to be acting all that off in any way besides not remembering Vanellope, no one in Rosas really seems to be suffering, depressed, dispirited, and poor off from having given up their wishes and forgotten about them either: it's a frequent criticism that they all seem to happy and prospering, and that the bad side of Magnifico's reign is more told to us than shown. The suffering only really visibly occurs on-screen when Magnifico takes and breaks the wishes (though even then it's written off as "making people feel sad" by a lot of watchers, so it's not easy to argue it's all that heinous). And sure, Turbo's manipulation of Ralph left Ralph with more of a choice to make regarding Vanellope's cart and her ability to race compared to Magnifico with Simon, but that could be argued to make Turbo that much more insidious and reprehensible in his approach.

And then we have Cy-Bug Turbo vocally making clear his intent to overtake all games in the arcade he chooses and forcing Ralph to watch the Cybugs attack Vanellope, comparable to Magnifico vocally making clear his intent to break all wishes in Rosas in order to enslave the despirited masses forever and forcing them all to watch him torture Asha. Yes, the latter might hit harder since it's such a betrayal of all the people he was supposed to be protecting and caring for, but that doesn't make Turbo's climactic villainy any less heinous. Turbo lacks magic powers, he's just a program who overrode that of a Cy-Bug and intends to make full use of the bug's capabilities to infect the lifeblood of other games and to physically harm others, namely Ralph, who he tells straight to his face that he wants to kill. And like Magnifico with the dark magic tome, Turbo's code merging with the Cy-Bug doesn't destroy his moral agency, it only makes him into a more unhinged, unfiltered and destructive version of the same cruel, egomaniacal asshole he already was. The fact that he uses the words "virus", "arcade", and "game" in the same sentence proves he's not merely another instinctive Cy-Bug; he knows exactly what he's doing, and sets out to hurt countless others knowing that he's hurting them not caring, and even relishing it.

Well at least we have other trope wikis to look to if we wish to find Turbo under his rightful classification. He is a Complete Monster, period. With the raw deal TV Tropes has given him for over a whole decade, he's the one who should sing "This Is The Thanks I Get?"

Yes, I am aware that the Complete Monster trope is not a badge of honor or trophy for whatever villain ends up on it,

No, I could not pass up this image.

[bleedingcoffee42]

Winnix Monday contribution as a continuation of these photo prompts- Part 1 , Part 2. With a little influence from Beyond Band of Brothers because why wouldn't I?

drabble under the cut.

“Dick, you weren’t looking at the camera.”  Nix said as soon as Krocha started to advance the film.

“What?”  Dick asked, still looking at Nix and trying to come up with a way to get a copy of that photo.  

“I’m sure they’ll need a profile photo for someone to carve your likeness into a mountain or something as the guy who won the war, but for now they probably want to be able to show off officer candidates.”  Nix said and Krocha seemed to buy that and Dick turned to show off for the camera.  Nix snorted as he added, “A rare shot of you wearing some goddamned clothes.”

Dick smiled, Nix was always dressed like a gentleman, shirt tie and everything pressed.   A product of his proper upbringing.  Dick worked hard on his body and liked to show it off, and occasionally lecture DeEtta on diet and exercise regimens because of said perfect body.  Krocha took the photo and laughed, because he had taken a lot of photos of Dick in his shorts.  That was apparently enough so the man moved on to new subjects, leaving Dick to dwell on the subject of his body.   And physical discipline.  “What do you think of the paratroopers?”

“Mmm?”  Nix asked as he fished in his pocket for cigarettes.  “Well, I could use the extra money.”

Dick laughed and started to walk and Nix fell in beside him.   They walked in time to each other, and it came naturally.   They couldn’t be more different, but like puzzle pieces they just fit perfectly when matched up and clicked into place.   It was so easy to be with him, so honest.   He knew Nix was already thinking what he was thinking, but he vocalized it anyway.  To set things in motion. “They’re the most impressive soldiers here.  If I go to war, I want to be with the best and they look like they are the best.”

“They don’t call them All American for nothing.”   Nix said as he watched some of the 82nd Airborne guys in the distance doing the Airborne shuffle and getting Krocha’s attention as well.  He wasn’t surprised that was what Dick set his eyes on, the men ate up the propaganda of being the ‘elite’ and it oozed off them with every move.   Arrogant assholes, but for good reason. The kind of guys you wanted beside you when you were in deep shit. “Got to put someone on the recruiting posters to lure you in.”

“Look at them, Nix.  Bronzed soldiers, training constantly, preparing to jump behind enemy lines and be their own resources.. Their own army. Not some helpless fodder in the trenches just part of the numbers required to win the war.”

“I see guys being worked ten times harder than anyone else here.”

“Exactly.”  Dick said.  “This infantry thing, the rate of survival isn’t good.”

“Even less when you consider the officers they’re making who can’t use a map to find their own bunks more or less an enemy bunker.”  Nix said and shook his head.  Some of their classmates had been less than impressive. Others were studying their asses off and still not making headway.   Most were good, most would learn and be able to use it, but Dick was on point with the life expectancy accompanying that.

“I think I’m going to volunteer.”  Dick said and remembered when he had given his friend Tresta a hard time about the paratroopers and now here he was seeing it as exactly what he wanted.   His parents were going to have a fit, but for the first time in his life he felt like this was exactly what he wanted.  That thought made him immediately turn to look at Nix and take a deep breath realizing his subconscious was trying to remind him of his wants.  Discipline! The paratroopers were the elite and demanded discipline.  Another reason he needed to volunteer.   Except he was saying this to Nix to see if he could convince him to go with him.   He swallowed hard looking at that tell-tale smirk touch Nix’s lips around the cigarette dangling from them.

“Recruiting for more volunteers are you?”  Nix asked and they held each other's gaze again for too long, but Lewis Nixon III was never a man to look away from anything.   Had that drilled into him by his father and grandfather, one who wanted to assert dominance and the other who wanted to build him into a confident man.   No reason to want to look away from Dick anyway.

Dick suddenly felt the ache of loss, something absurd for a friendship barely two weeks long.   In making a choice that felt right for himself he might be separating himself from the one person he felt drawn to like a magnet.  They had talked so much, helped each other understand things about themselves, that it felt like they had known each other for a lifetime already.  So, was he asking Nix to jump out of a plane with him or asking Nix to tell him if this was what he really wanted?  

“Well, can’t let you go alone.  None of these idiots are going to give you the right map to tell you where you need to land.”  Nix winked, took his cigarette from his lips and blew the smoke from his nose as to not obscure the vision of Dick in front of him: the hope and joy that lit up his face as he realized he was going to accompany him on this journey.   

It was an overwhelming rush of emotion; the apprehension of asking, the realization his first loss in this could be Nix, the absolute joy of hearing he was going with him.  It was like asking a girl to the prom, but more intense.   Of course there was no saying they’d be together, the army could send them anywhere.    The odds of even seeing each other again after OCS was so small…

“I can pull a few strings and see if I can get us in together.”  Nix said as if hearing his thoughts and grinned as Dick’s face took on another level of elation and hope.  “God knows my Mom has been doing everything in her power to get me stationed near her when this training ends.   Dix and Croft have been way too far away, Mrs. Nixon’s baby boy needs to be safely tucked away as an officer doing paperwork in her backyard on the California coast.   She’ll take news of me volunteering for the most dangerous job I can really well.  As long as I tell her I got a friend who’s going to watch my back after I volunteer, consider us bunkmates at paratrooper training.  You’ll get the supreme honor of hiding my Vat 69 in your footlocker.”

Dick was breathless.   He had no doubts Doris Nixon would pull it off, Nix’s Mom was extremely well connected and also had enough money to pave the way anywhere for her son.   Any thoughts of discipline were beginning to dissolve as he looked at that smile on Nix’s face, the one he got when he played a spectacular hand of cards or bested someone with a move in chess.   

“We still need to get through OCS first.” Nix said and returned the cigarette to his lips.  “Still want to study on your map reads?”

“Yes.”  Dick, normally offended by his own academic failings, had found that struggling with maps had been a surprising turn of fortune.  He got to spend more time with his tutor:  Nix was a natural, just like everything he tried his hand at.   If there was a more perfect human being on this planet than Lewis Nixon, he probably would never notice because he was always staring at Nix.  

Nix lifted his clipboard and showed he had borrowed some maps from the classroom to do just that.  “Your place or mine?”

“Mine.  My bunkmate is spending most of his time visiting friends he’s made along the way.”  Dick said, knowing his 37 year old Staff Sergeant roommate would be anywhere but in the bunkhouse.   The man was career army, had made connections and was using them.  Not that he didn’t use his own connections to help him pass classes, but Nix volunteered.  “Why are you studying, Nix?  You made it clear you never went to class at Yale and only went to class in boarding school because you were a hostage there.   What changed?”

“You.” Nix said and Dick lit up.   He shook his head.  “Hell, Dick, I’m doing all of this for you.”

Dick watched him wave the clipboard around and point back to the sand tables and the photographer.  He knew Nix didn’t care for any of it, he could pass any test without trying and he only engaged with people he found interesting or social enough to drink and play cards with him.   Discipline was crumbling and for once Dick didn’t care.

[elacular-kink]

Hicvember 19: Induced

And here we have my first A+B(+C+etc) story to get a sequel, with this one being a follow-up to Day 8, Singles, in which A (now Anna) observed how her crush B (now Bowie) reacted to her and other peoples' singles. This takes place once Anna manages gather enough data points to get the nerve to do something about it.

Content: Hiccups, hiccuping in public, anxiety, embarrassment, alcohol, bad movies.

"Okay, Cameron, what stupid fucking movie are you torturing us with tonight?"

"God, have a little faith in me, would you?"

"You literally call it bad movie night, I know you're going to make us watch some complete bullshit."

Anna was only half paying attention to the argument between Bowie and Cameron while other members of their troop were setting up the projector and screen on which said bad movie would be shown. She'd actually spoken to Cameron earlier about this, requesting that he not show anything especially gory, disgusting, or distasteful. He had whined that this limited his options, but after nixing the one by the leader of scientology(?) and the one that would apparently have involved throwing cutlery at the screen(???) the two managed to agree on a "classic" in which a role played by Bela Lugosi would primarily be played by someone who was not Bela Lugosi. These were the sort of things that made Anna wonder if she would ever even slightly understand her fellow trainees.

She was coming to understand Bowie, she hoped. Or rather, she was fairly certain she'd come to understand one specific thing about them. If it turned out she hadn't, Anna worried that she'd wind up embarrassing herself more than a little tonight. But given just how much thought she'd put into this stupid plan, it would feel like a waste not to go through with it at this point. And yes, she did know what the sunk cost fallacy was, but dammit, even if she wound up being completely wrong she'd get new information out of this.

That fact only helped her nerves so much as Bowie flopped down on the couch next to her, apparently done antagonizing Cameron for now. "You want me to get you some popcorn or anything, Annie?"

Anna felt her face redden and looked away. "No, but thank you. I'm...prepared for whatever's to come tonight."

"You super aren't, but you'll find out all about that soon!" Cameron bounced on his toes as one of their squadmates dimmed the lights. "Alllll right then! Introducing! The world's first worst movie ever! Dun dun duuuuuuun!"

As a man filmed in black and white began stiltedly talking about the future, Anna began putting her preparations into action. It wasn't as if she'd needed to do much, but she tried to be subtle about it, knowing that Bowie had sensitive hearing and not wanting to embarrass herself more than necessary. So she concealed the gulps of air she was deliberately swallowing in sips of a glass of wine she'd poured herself, doing her best not to belch loudly even as bubbles of air caught in and out of her throat.

She actually ended up stopping herself partway through the opening credits before starting up again. This happened a few times. Overthinking things was a terrible habit of Anna's, and she wondered if her nerves meant that she was also scaring away exactly what she was attempting to induce. Her circle of self-doubt was thankfully broken when an unbelievably fake UFO was dangled onto the screen. Bowie barked out a single loud laugh along with some derisive whoops from other troop members, and seeing them amused made Anna giggle too. And that giggle was cut off by half a burp and a "*HNK!*" that she just barely managed to swallow down.

Anna could feel just how red her face was going as one hand flew up to cover her lips. She kept it there despite knowing it wouldn't do much to muffle the sound, having...practiced having these before. If it turned out she was wrong about her assumptions concerning Bowie's response to hiccups she was going to feel like an idiot. But in spite of that worry, the idea that she was about to be proven right excited her enough that she had to hide her mouth so nobody would see her smiling.

When she glanced down at Bowie, Anna was initially surprised that they weren't looking at her. But when the screen lightened and she got a better look at their face, it was obvious that they'd deliberately forced themself to stare at the movie instead of at her. A "*HMK!*" put an end to that, and Bowie's attention snapped onto Anna before they caught themself and looked away again, and even with how low the light was, the blush on their face was practically radiant. Anna's must have been too with how fast her heart beat when she "*HMK-MMP!*" hiccuped again. "S-sorry B–*HMP*–Bow," she whispered, doing everything she could not to giggle or grin too obviously.

"S'okay," Bowie said softly, gaze nailed back to the screen. "You, uh—" they flinched at Anna's next *HMP!* and took a moment to start speaking again. "uh...you, uh, doing okay?"

Anna nodded and forced herself to look away too. "I-I'm fine! *HMK!* I've ju–*HUP!*—a-ah!" She'd thought she'd be able to muffle all her hiccups to near silence since, unlike with her "singles", she would know to expect them, but at least one managed to sneak past her defenses, and it made her face burn all the way up to her ears. "E...excuse m---me. *HMK!*" She was fairly sure she heard Cameron snickering, but nobody else seemed to respond. "I...I h–*HMP!* have the hiccups, B–*HMK!*–Bowie," Anna whispered, curling slightly in on herself.

"Yeah..." Just how awestruck they sounded caught Anna off guard, and when she looked over, she saw Bowie staring at her, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. "Uh!" They shook their head as soon as they noticed her gaze. "S-sorry, you want, um, you want me to get you some water or something?" They whispered barely loud enough for Anna to hear them. Not sure she trusted herself to speak out loud again, Anna just nodded, and Bowie nodded back before stiffly getting up and rushing out of the room. They were barely gone a second before Anna missed their weight and warmth next to her. It didn't take long for Bowie to return, and when they did, they shoved a glass of water into Anna's free hand before sitting down just as stiffly as they'd gotten up, back board straight and feet flat on the ground, knees at a ninety degree angle. Even if Anna hadn't know what to look for already, that would have been suspicious. Bowie never sat correctly. Nevertheless, Anna had water now.

...she wasn't sure what she wanted to do with it, though.

How suspicious would it be to put it aside? To not drink any? Too suspicious, right? She had to drink some, right?

Anna shook her head again, trying to rattle the thoughts away and took a small, nervous sip, happy that just a split second after swallowing it, another "*MMNK!*" rocked her. A few more tiny sips and muffled hiccups, and Anna felt safe putting the glass down for now "Sorry Bow," she whispered, swallowing a hiccup just after she finished their nickname. "I don't thi–*NNK!*–nnh...think it w---worked."

"Doesn't, uh...doesn't sound like it, nah," Bowie muttered, still uncomfortably rigid.

After a few long moments, Anna made herself take the initiative and leaned into Bowie's shoulder. She failed to completely avoid laughing at the non-word noises that came out of their open mouth at that, and her hiccups picked up a bit of speed. "I don't w–*HNK* want to disru–*HPT* the movie for *MMNK* the oth---thers," she murmured into their shirt. "Could you he–*LP* help me keep th–*HMK* them quiet?"

"Y-yeah!" It came out just a little too loud, and Bowie nodded just a little too hard. Even though her eyes were at an awkward angle with her pressing her lips into their shoulder, Anna could see the massive grin stretching over Bowie's face. "Yeah, sure, Annie! Yeah! I-I got you!"

Anna felt herself smiling, realizing only a moment too late that that meant Bowie could feel her smiling too. After a second, she decided it didn't matter and nuzzled more firmly into their shoulder. "Th---thank you, Bow. *MMK!*"

"Yeah..." They giggled softly and slowly got less tense, and Anna felt her heart pick up more speed when they eventually rested back against her so her hiccups were shaking both of them. Every time she glanced up at Bowie, she could see how pink their face was in the dim light of the bad movie.

Even though she knew that the scientific method was supposed to look at things objectively, sometimes it felt very very good to finally confirm a hypothesis.

[tactical-mode]

Episode 010

(Remember to turn on CC for the dialogue!)

This episode is full of departures from the OG, although nothing so drastic as 7R. In many cases, dialogue has been tweaked to suit the blocking. It’s my opinion that these tweaks - mostly from Remake - suit the characters and the flow, but you can be the judge.

[Chapter 04] Scene 37-40: Morning in the Slums

Tifa joins the party while Barret’s Theme pleases the ear. This is actually the original midi track from the 1997 game but put through some modern samplings. Later in the episode, you’ll hear the orchestration by modder Neo Faizan, which can be used in your Remake playthrough, I heartily recommend it!

OG fans may notice that I’ve changed this scene somewhat. In the old game, the dialogue introduces a materia tutorial. Since this is in movie-style, that's nixed. I thought about planning some overlay text to show our loadout, like so:

(I gave Tifa an advanced purple materia here because she’ll be roundhouse kicking giant robots soon and I don’t want her to break her leg.) The overlay idea was scrapped.

Scene 41

This small scene on the train platform uses dialogue mostly from Remake, although in places I have swapped the new lines out for things that are covered in side-dialogue in the OG (such as SOLDIER being deployed).

In my initial concept for the series I wanted all scenes like this to go in the Extended Cut playlist only, as separate “deleted” scenes. So, why the change? Primarily because the music leads from one scene to the next, and without a clear break, I didn’t want to jank the flow.

[Chapter 05] Scene 01-03

Enjoy the music mod by Neo Faizan and the Train NPCs mod by FantasyRaiderr. These scenes are spliced in with scenes from Chapter 2. If you watch all the episodes in one sitting, you can see that I’ve filmed the same moment twice and used it in Episode 7 and now 10. Whoops!

There’s also a materia in the background of the emptied train car. It emits glowing particles that were chewing the scenery, so to film the scene I opened the engine .ini and removed all particle effects. Much less distracting!

In OG, Tifa is the one who breaks up the fight, prompting Cloud to very cooly say his line. In 7R, Tifa ain’t here and Cloud has a moribund expression to match a changed bit of dialogue (a more judgemental “You know you’re better than that.”).

Scene 04

Ah finally, a music track from Remake! Hurry! Is the name of the tune, and has several versions in Remake - this one brings the ticking clock noise, running synth, and morse-code-esque percussion  that most closely matches Uematsu’s score. 

The race against time from the OG sadly doesn’t happen in 7R, so we jump from the train straight away. There’s also no goodbye sequence with Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie. The only indication they’re even on the mission is a single shot of them imported from Chapter 2.

Remake’s replacement for these scenes (killer drones that attack everyone on the train) was also cut, this time by me. It may explain why the party seems to be ready to fight something off screen, and why the passengers seem less afraid of Barret that they are of Tifa (hint: they’re actually afraid of the killer drones behind her).

One final change: in OG, Barret jumps from the train last, boasting that a leader always stays until the end. I lament the change here, but I couldn’t edit my way out of him jumping first. Ah well, at least we get a nice little romantic moment here. My multi-shipper heart soars.

Scenes 05-15

Several combats are cut here. The music track is Lurking in the Darkness from EC. Also, if you play through 7R, this scene is likely cluttered with crates and pylons, as a combat full of exploding interactables happens just before it. To reset the crates so they aren’t bouncing around the scene, I had to save in the quick moment between the fight and the cutscene, then reset the game so that the interactibles appeared back in their default position. Clever girl, eh?

Barret going off about Plans B to D as well as the railway map is an invention of 7R. I liked it, so I kept it, clipping where I could to keep it brisk. It allows the song to play out, shows us some tasteful character interactions, and serves as a tidy plot button for the end of the episode. It is thus saved from becoming a deleted scene, purism be damned!

One last note here - in trying to force Barret and Tifa to run up to the map at the right time, I spent a lot of time freezing the engine, causing any the actors in motion to float far away. This forced them to backtrack towards their marker while I set up a shot. A shot I really liked of Barret reflected the OG's image of the train tunnel and I really wanted to use it, but I found it confusing as a viewer in terms of getting a sense of place.

Final Thoughts

This episode brings the series’ run-time up to about an hour. That’s on par with the original game. Comparatively, Remake’s version of the train escape happens around the 8-hour mark. Just some fun stats for you. I am hoping that this is one of the episodes in which I play the loosest with OG's script but there are some real hurdles up ahead. In the meanwhile, I get to kick back and enjoy some dungeon and combat for the next few releases.

[tiggymalvern]

"When Burn Notice would go on break from filming, I would do a production of A Round Heeled Woman: My Late-Life Adventures in Sex and Romance, first as a premiere in San Francisco, and then the next year in Miami, at GableStage. The show sold out nightly. The run was extended.

Most of my friends in Miami, including Matt Nix and some of the cast and crew of Burn Notice came to see me in the show. Jeffrey Donovan refused to attend.

'I cannot watch a play where my mother is masturbating onstage. I just can't do it,' he explained. I couldn't argue with him, since the play opens with me having phone sex and later multiple orgasms while standing up. That skill is not listed on my acting resume."

Sharon Gless, 'Apparently There Were Complaints'

[thenixkat]

Put on Faust: Love of the Damned and yeah, it's about as bad as the reviewer said it was. The editing is... a choice.

The editing and music choices are very edgy music video.

Can't say I dislike it. A bit slow and confusing to start with but the music is fun.

Also, there's only really so many like R rated horror superhero movies so...

[mordredsheart]

Nixe’s Top 10 Films Of 2024!

in chronological viewing order, including both new and new-to-me films from this year.

04. I Saw The TV Glow

What if she was right? What if I was someone else? Someone beautiful and powerful? Buried alive and suffocating to death on the other side of a television screen?

I’d never heard of this movie before seeing it on the AMC app and deciding to check it out on a whim. When the end credits finally started rolling, I couldn’t get out of the theater fast enough. Standing at the bus stop under the hazy pinks and blues of an L.A. sunset, I felt like I had just clawed my way out of the grave. My thanatophobia was triggered for weeks; whenever I tried to sleep at night, my breaths caught in my chest while I obsessed over what the last one I ever take will feel like.

I’ve always been proud that I’m not easily fazed by horror—and, when I *do* find myself fazed, through spite or stubbornness or simply an artistic masochism, I usually try to stick it out. Partly it was that masochism that drove me back to this movie, months after my first watch. But it was also partly because I knew it was a damn good work of art that I hadn’t been able to properly appreciate on account of, you know, the terror. There was something wondrous to be discovered, if only I could stomach it.

(What about you? Do you like girls?) I don’t... I don’t know. (Boys?) I... I think that I like TV shows.

In an interview about I Saw The TV Glow, the director, Jane Schoenbrun, said, “I don’t think my relationship to gender is something that I completely understand. It’s actually quite comforting to embrace incoherence.” As a nonbinary person whose gender is “idk, whatever Ziggy Stardust was doing,” and whose response to discussions about identity and presentation is, nine times out of ten, a massive fucking shrug, I felt extremely seen.

Knowing that they feel this way also makes the movie’s ambiguity that much sharper and sweeter. Maddy and Owen both exist in that hazy pink and blue sunset space. It doesn’t matter what, specifically, they might define themselves as. They’re being buried alive, buried by a world that wants to trap them in boxes as narrow and inescapable as coffins, and what matters the most is clawing out of the grave.

But, despite the power of what Maddy and Owen go through, I have to admit my favorite pieces of genderfuckery in this movie came from Marco and Polo (seen here, and also, oh, God, right behind you!). In the context of The Pink Opaque as a throwback to kids’ shows of the 1990s, they carry an incredible double entendre.

On the one hand, as henchbeings to Mr. Melancholy, the malicious Big Bad, Marco and Polo are agents of the literal personification of dysphoria and transphobia. They gleefully attack the protagonists Tara and Isabel and drag them to what feels like certain death. On the other hand, their hermaphroditic appearance feels like a shout-out to the queer-coded villains of 1980s and 1990s kids’ media, who might have terrified and unsettled parents, but sparked a powerful, undefinable feeling of kinship in the hearts of kids like me. Marco and Polo are, somehow, both a threat and a promise.

(Am I going crazy?) No. Never let anyone convince you of that. You’re like me. You’re special.

I see people talk a lot about how The Pink Opaque is a love letter to Buffy The Vampire Slayer and its fandom. I never got into Buffy, so I can’t speak on that. I grew up with a different Monster Of The Week show, a long-forgotten Disney Channel series called So Weird.

As with I Saw The TV Glow, there is a charged current of death that runs through So Weird. It follows a girl called Fi and her encounters with the paranormal. Several episodes feature confrontations with ghosts, liches, or another type of unquiet dead, while the overarching narrative is about Fi coming to grips with losing her father, who might have been killed in something much more sinister than an alleged car wreck.

Two episodes in particular stuck with me long after the show had gone off the air and become relegated to a “does anyone remember...” curiosity on forums: one where Fi communicates with the spirit of a girl in a coma to bring her back to the world of the living, and one where Fi squares off with a banshee to buy her dying grandfather a little more time. In both cases, death is not something that must be endured as a natural inevitability. It’s something that can be faced, fought, and defied.

I think I was born bored I think I was born blue I think I was born wanting more I think I was born already missing you

I struggle a lot with cultural narratives about the acceptance of death. On an intellectual level, I understand why that’s a thing, why it’s healthy. I also know that my OCD and thanatophobia blow up the specter of death for me in a way that most 30-year-olds don’t necessarily experience. Maybe without them I’d have less of a problem with it. But the acceptance is always something I resist. Annoyingly enough, it’s also always the first thing I’m told I need to do to overcome this terror. Maybe that’s part of why I love horror movies so much; no one’s sitting there patiently telling me that I need to accept the inevitability of the nine-foot tall creep revving a chainsaw at me.

The terror of death, both literal and metaphorical, is front and center throughout I Saw The TV Glow. Actually, scratch that—what renders it so effective is the very blurring between literal and metaphorical death. There is absolutely no difference between Maddy and Owen trapped in a queerphobic suffocating suburban hell, and Tara and Isabel having their hearts cut out and being buried alive by Mr. Melancholy. All those deaths are equally horrifying. All those deaths must be fought against with everything they’ve got. And that’s where the hope comes in: as long as you’re living, death has not won, and there is still time. That’s why I can breathe easier when I watch this movie now.

[svtgg]

I Saw It In A Dream

pairing(s): yun x members, yun x carats

genre: humor, slice of life

wordcount: 1.5k

Idol Room was a variety show that Seventeen had continuously been going to for their comebacks. This was their third comeback in a row, and Coni and Doni (the hosts), were asking the members for tmi’s.

Dk was the first to speak up, “Yun predicted the weather today.”

Both of the hosts were visibly shocked, and some of the members laughed at their reactions.

Coni starts waving his arms and speaks directly at the camera, “No, you guys don’t understand, all week we’ve been told that it was going to be sunny. Even today! But an hour before we started filming, it suddenly started pouring! Everyone was surprised.”

“Yun has very good intuition,” Mingyu explains. “Her gut feelings are always right.”

Doni shakes his head, “I don’t believe you.”

Yun herself is watching this entire interaction go down, smiling to herself. The members' excitement for this was greatly amusing her. Luckily, the members rush to defend her.

“This other time,” Edyth says, “I was supposed to be on a rising platform for a performance. The staff always makes sure it’s working before I get on it for rehearsal. Apparently, they had never had problems with their lifts at this venue, and it was working fine so everyone was confident that the show would run smoothly. The rehearsals went well. But right before the actual performance, Yun pulled me aside and told me that there was something wrong with the lift and to be really careful during the performance.”

Everyone was listening to Edyth’s story and anticipating what was going to happen next.

Doni gasped, “The platform didn’t work?”

“The platform didn’t work,” Edyth confirmed. “It buffered while it moved me up and then wouldn’t come down for the rest of the song. Luckily, it went back down smoothly after the song.”

Coni shook a finger in Yun’s direction, “It sounds to me like Yun tampered with your platform.”

Yun laughs at the accusation and shakes her head. “I would never,” she says.

“I have another story,” Jeonghan says. “I didn’t believe the members when they talked about this either until this happened a couple of weeks ago.” “You don’t have to tell this story!” Yun protests.

Jeonghan waves off her reluctance to share what happened, “Recently, we did a concert in Osaka. There were a couple of us in a hotel room, I think it was Hoshi, Woozi, Nix, Yun, and me. We had just ordered food and were waiting for the hotel staff to bring it up. So, a couple minutes go by, and there's a knock on the door. I assumed it was our food and got up to answer the door. But as I’m walking to the door, Yun tells me to not open it. I checked through the peephole and it was a person in uniform, with a cart of food, so I really did just think it was staff with our food. 

I really was going to open the door, but then Yun started freaking out, telling me not to open it. Hoshi and Nix believed in Yun’s ability while Woozi and I didn’t, so we didn’t open the door. We sat in silence for like 5 minutes while the person outside kept knocking on the door and saying they had our food. They finally left and I was complaining about how that was our food and I was hungry, but we got another knock on our door. It was one of our managers, and they told us that apparently some criminals had gotten into the hotel and were pretending to be staff in order to come see us. Right before I went back into our room, the staff came with our food. I asked if any other hotel staff had already come by, and they said no.”

“Random people were trying to get to you guys?” Doni asked.

Jeonghan and some of the other members nod enthusiastically..

Doni nudges Coni, “Maybe she’s some sort of a witch.”

“How do we test this?”

Yun is still shaking her head, “I’m not a witch. I just know when I should follow my gut feeling.”

The members are quick to protest this again. “No – she’s totally a witch.” Dk says.

Doni and Coni laugh. “What do you think?” Coni asks Minghao, as he hadn’t really spoken up with his own opinion.

Minghao smiles and looks over at Yun, there's a teasing glint in his eye before he looks back at Coni, “Maybe she’s not a witch, but she must have some sort of spiritual ability. She can predict the future with her dreams.”

Doni is quick to intervene, “How do you know it’s an ability though? Couldn’t it just be a coincidence?”

Minghao shakes his head, “It’s happened way too many times to be considered a coincidence.”

“Raise your hand if Yun has predicted something about you from one of her dreams?” Doni asks everyone. Him and Coni’s mouths drop open when all of the members raise their hands. “Are you guys trying to prank us?”

“One time,” Seungcheol said eagerly, his arms moving animatedly as he told his story. “Yun told me that she dreamt that a red jacket would give me a rash on my arm. I didn’t believe her but then a couple weeks later it happened! I bought a jacket but I had to get rid of it because it gave me a rash.”

“What about you?” Doni nudges Woozi, hoping that he’ll disagree with the members.

“I never give out the password of my studio to anyone. Only one of the managers, Bumzu, Hoshi, and I have access to it. One time I asked Yun to get me food while I was in the studio. I ask members all the time to do this and they always knock or just leave it outside, so I thought Yun would do the same. She had texted me that she had arrived at the building so I got up to accept the food but someone was opening the door to my studio. She just walked in and handed it to me super casually –” Everyone laughs when he makes the confused facial expression that he had as he told the story, “– I thought that maybe she had gotten the code from Hoshi or our manager but when I asked them they said that they didn’t. No one had given her the code and I was so confused. When I finally asked her, she said she dreamt coming into my studio and wondered if the code she saw in her dream would be the same one in real life.”

Coni points accusatively at Hoshi, “You gave her the code!”

He raises his hands up in defense, his voice loudly denying it, “I didn’t tell her anything! Woozi would kill me if I told anyone the code, I wouldn’t even be here!”

Everyone laughs at Hoshi’s ability to make any situation humorous and the mc’s move on from this segment into a game. Yun hadn’t thought much of this moment when they were filming it, in fact, she thought that it would get cut. But it was aired and it went viral, carats were amazed with her ability while others didn’t believe her.

Fascinated with the alleged ability, this often became a topic of discussion between the media and Yun. Interviewers would ask her what her latest dreams had been about and sometimes members would tell stories of Yun predicting things during a vlive. Of course, there were always people that were skeptical of the entire thing so Yun usually opted to not talk about this. The last time it was really a topic of discussion was when a fan went viral for telling their own Yun story:

“As a carat, I had heard the rumors of Yun’s ability of being able to see into the future through her dreams. I thought that it was a joke that all of the members were in on, but now I’m a believer. Yesterday, I went to the Seventeen fansign. I was excited to meet all of the members. I was one of the last carats to say hello to them, and Yun was the last member I would say hello to. When I finally got to sit in front of her, she was very excited and pleasant to talk to. When I told her my name, her eyes lit up with realization. She asked me if I had a boyfriend and I said yes. She then told me his name and how long we had been together (3 years). I was shocked and confused about how she knew, but she only laughed and said that she had seen our wedding in her dream. I told her that I wasn’t married, but that I wanted to marry him. Yun smiled playfully and said that my boyfriend would propose to me that upcoming Saturday. Imagine how surprised I was when it was true, yesterday my fiance proposed to me.” 

The post went viral and gained over a million likes. Yun only responded in the form of a weverse post:

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Happy WBW! What's Alium TV like?

Happy WBW! (As in, World Building Where the fuck did this come from I didn't see it until now whoops)

Alium TV is something that definitely exists, but I've been thinking hard about differences apart from the obvious.

I'd imagine television entertainment is similar. Of course, their version of "realistic fiction" is much more fantastical. Any school dramas or mystery procedurals for example will have the powers involved in everything, that's a given.

"science fiction" would include theoretical powers or maybe "what ifs". I think there could be a show about the One Person Who Has All Powers. Maybe multiple. Knowing the existence of alternate universes, I think "isekai" shows would be very, very popular.

There'd of course be bias against Inutilia. Propaganda. Shows with Inutilia characters being boycotted, banned, unfairly cancelled. Even bias toward certain powers.

I also have an idea for this really long show that was created exclusively by speedsters and slowed down so all can watch it (though there is an "original time" cut). Like, they filmed 247 episodes in a week or something like that. Alium definitely has cameras that can pick up that speed.

Speedsters in general would also dominate the hand-drawn and stop motion animation industry. Cartoons could be pumped out quicker and at higher quality. This of course would make any aspiring animator who is not a speedster frustrated.

These are the main ideas I have! Hope this was enough!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites

[elvenbeard]

Exit Strategy

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic

Summary: V finally meets again with Dr. Fuentes, who during their first meeting already seemed very intrigued in his case. With not much left to lose, he takes her offer for an informal appointment - but even so, in Night City everything comes at a price. (Post-Sun-Ending, mostly canon-compliant, Chapter 13/?, 8258 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V - notes at the end) >> Previous Chapter >> Read from the Beginning

Kerry leaned over from the driver’s seat of his car and gently turned V’s head to give him a brief goodbye kiss. V didn’t want it to end, didn’t want to unglue his ass from the passenger seat, or go to that appointment with Fuentes. His hand lingered on Kerry’s thigh too long and gripped too tightly for Kerry to not notice. He had been right. V truly hated hospitals and doctors and anything to do with either.

“Ya sure you don’t want me to come?” Kerry asked with the utmost genuine worry in his eyes.

“Not that I don’t wanna,” V whispered, “But I’ll manage. And you’ll manage.”

He tried to convince himself more than Kerry really, and Kerry’s little grin told him that he knew that just as well. So, he just kissed him once more for good measure.

“I’ll give ya a call as soon as I’m out and I’ll be all yours for the rest of the day. Promise.”

“Okay,” Kerry nodded, beard brushing against V’s lips briefly. Then he withdrew, and V slowly lifted his hand to the doorhandle.

He wasn’t sure how, but somehow, he made it out of the car eventually. Exited the steel and gold colored Guinevre, waved Kerry goodbye briefly as he slowly drove off towards Charter Hill. Then he entered the MedCenter with his heart beating in his throat.

Finding the right name plate on the right room turned into a downright scavenger hunt in the hospital’s endless white hallways that all looked the same. A kind med-tech pointed V into the right direction eventually and opened the door for him. Now he was sitting in a too comfortable armchair in Dr. Fuente’s office. He had been a little early, but she was close to running late. V wasn’t sure if he liked it better that way or not.

His neck was stiff and hurt, partially from the accident still, but also from sleeping on the couch last night, huddled up to Kerry closely. After their pizza had arrived, they’d watched old movies until they both eventually dozed off. Falling asleep to the bad audio of an old action film and Kerry’s soft snoring had been another of those moments he wouldn’t have minded lasting a lifetime.

He pulled up the files on Fuentes again, gave them another quick read. Nix had sent them late last night and V had studied them over breakfast this morning. He had come to the same conclusion as the Afterlife’s resident netrunner: nothing too out of the ordinary with this doctor. At least on the surface.

Isabella Fuentes was born January 19th, 2024, in Puerto Rico. When she was two, the family moved to Tucson, Arizona. She was divorced, had two daughters, both adults around V’s age. One moved to Los Angeles two years ago, the other still studied at NCU. Fuentes herself had come to Night City with a medicine scholarship for the same university back in the middle of the century.

So much to the pretty ordinary basics. But V perked up when he learned that soon after finishing her studies, Fuentes worked for BioDyne for a considerable number of years. During their first meeting she had been quite adamant about not having any loyalties to that particular corporation. Nix was unable to turn up details on why – or how – she left, but that she got out of the corporate world alive after such a long time spoke for itself. BioDyne may not have been as militaristic as Arasaka, but V doubted they just let go of long-term employees without repercussions for either side.

After the end of her corporate career, Fuentes worked for Trauma Team briefly, in the field. She was injured during the time of the Unification war, although not related to war activities. She continued on the administrative side as she recovered and eventually took on her current role at the MedCenter’s neurology department. Ever since the end of the war she’d been exactly there, predominantly helping veterans and contributing to studies in her field. A long and remarkable career so far, even if not nearly as prestigious as it could have been with her prerequisites. V was certain there were parts of her past she would like to avoid talking about, and Nix had offered to dig deeper into some aspects… But for now, V was content with what he had. The rest would be determined by how this meeting went.

It was almost 10:15 at this point, no sign of the doctor still. V took a deep breath and looked around the room. The office was on one of the higher floors of the building. Not overly large or impressive, but it had a decently sized window. The shutters were closed, sadly, otherwise the view across Little China may have been quite beautiful this morning. All light came from some simple embedded ceiling lights, a warm white glow, a barely audible hum. The furnishings were sparse, a large grey desk front and center, two armchairs, an office chair, all upholstered with white synleather. V had uncomfortable flashbacks to Blue-Eyes’ office, but this room was thankfully too narrow for secret floor compartments containing synthetic bodies. The wall to his right was lined with shelves displaying mostly books, documents, and data shards, as well as a few personal items. Some quaint figurines that could’ve been Mexican, but V wasn’t sure. Souvenirs from a trip long in the past. There also were some tiny, colorful flowerpots that looked like they were hand-painted by children, containing even tinier succulents that may have been just plastic. To his left, on the wall opposite to the bookshelves, was a door, but not the one he had entered through. Just when he finished the thought, V suppressed a wince as the door right behind him slid open and a slightly out of breath Dr. Fuentes finally entered her office.

“Please excuse the delay, I had an emergency this morning and my whole schedule is shifted now,” she said, then stopped by V’s side briefly, extending a hand. V got up to shake it.

“Good morning, first of all,” she said, nodding and smiling politely, “I’m happy you’re back. You look better already than last week.”

“Thanks,” V said briefly and sank back into his chair while Fuentes went to open the window shutters, letting in some natural light. She hung her white coat over the backrest of her chair then sat down across from V behind her desk and folded her hands on her lap. Intelligent dark eyes were fixated on him, and V tried not to let his thoughts run too wild just yet with assumptions and theories about potential ulterior motives on her side.

“Alright,” Fuentes said as she had finally caught her breath again, “I suggest we cut straight to the chase.”

“Yes,” V nodded, “Thank you again for taking the time.”

“Of course,” Fuentes nodded, “I have to admit, I have been thinking about you and your case a lot these past days. Even with the limited knowledge I have so far, I still believe I may be able to help. If you are willing to tell me more about your condition now.”

‘Willing’ wasn’t the word V would’ve used. It was more a necessity at this point that he got help.

“I will,” he said, “But only if you can provide me with a certain level of security.”

Fuentes shifted in her chair slightly and frowned, then she opened one of the drawers of her desk and pulled out a tablet. She turned it on and began to search for something on it while maintaining eye contact with V as best as she managed.

“You’ve come here today as my patient. As far as I’m concerned, everything, anything that we discuss, falls under the doctor-patient confidentiality. My contract with the Little China MedCenter binds me to treat your data and information with utmost care and discretion. All data we store is locked away securely, all in accordance with your Trauma Team policy. I can resend you the patient information papers and contracts, although I think most of them you should already have…”

“I care less about the MedCenter than about what you personally do with the information I’m going to give you,” V said, and Fuentes stopped her search, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“I’m not sure what you’re alluding to,” she said, still polite, but shoulders visibly more tense than before.

“Nothing,” V shook his head carefully, “This is just not something I tell every random stranger on the street… no offense, of course.”

He paused.

“If I have to play with open cards, I need you to as well.”

A short, knowing smile flashed across Fuentes’ lips, and again, it was for just a split-second. V had known he was onto something from the first moment they ever looked at each other face to face. The question was not whether or not Fuentes could help him, but if he even wanted her to help him.

Fuentes put the tablet down and leaned back in her chair, brushing a black and grey curl out of her face. The late morning light coming in through the window right behind her framed her in a hazy golden glow, almost as if she wasn’t real, just wishful thinking in a hopeless situation.

“Alright,” she said calmly and nodded, “It is only fair.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then rested her chin on her interlocking fingers.

“I know very well who you are, V. They call you ‘King of the Afterlife’ on the streets. A mercenary with a background at Arasaka’s department for Counterintelligence, and that’s only where the rumors and hearsay begin... Admittedly, I wonder how much of it all is true.”

V wasn’t surprised. He was certain his old Trauma Team records from his time at Arasaka were still stored somewhere. They must’ve come up when the hospital checked his insurance status after the accident. And the hearsay and rumors, well… Didn’t have to pay a fixer much for that kind of superficial intel.

This was not what he had hoped she would open their conversation up with, but it was a start.

“From my experience, telling the truth is the easiest way to make people believe you’re lying,” he decided to say. Fuentes chuckled briefly, then nodded, serious as ever. She looked him directly in the eyes, piercing, trying to read his thoughts. He wondered if she had cyberoptics – probably, as a neurosurgeon, and with her age. Doubtful though whether she had the means to covertly scan his system and biometrics. She wouldn’t be very successful either way, and the little information of him that was on public record he didn’t care about people knowing.

“Is it true you’re one of the best that money can buy?” she then asked with sincerity. Regardless, this time V was at least a little taken aback by how sudden and straightforward the question came.

“And I thought you wanted to help me, not the other way around…”

He leaned back in his chair too now and crossed his legs loosely. Undoubtedly, he was intrigued by this turn of the conversation, but at the same time his guts twisted into a knot.

“I think we can help each other,” Fuentes said, “And we both have a lot to lose.”

“Is that so?”

She smiled sadly, then shook her head.

“No, actually, I lost a lot already. And not even Night City’s best mercenary could bring it back,” she said, voice calm and composed, “But I would be satisfied just with plain revenge as well.”

The fire in her eyes was reignited, the same fire from their first meeting, the same anger Takemura had always spoken with about “restoring his honor” while to V it had always sounded more like a thirst for revenge at the core. Restoring an order that couldn’t be restored when he could’ve, should’ve just turned his back to the Arasakas the moment he had the chance.

Something like that was easy to say for V, of course, who hadn’t dedicated his whole life to a corporation.

And now, Fuentes, mysteriously non-associated with her former employer BioDyne, spoke of revenge. That could only mean trouble, and V hoped not to a similar degree as with Goro and the Arasakas.

“Not a fan of revenge,” he said truthfully, “It rarely solves anything and only creates more problems, usually.”

Fuentes laughed dryly.

“So what, live and let live?”

“Focusing on just living so far has at least brought me further than trying to get back at everyone who ever wronged me.”

“Maybe you haven’t been wronged badly enough yet then. You’re still young,” Fuentes smiled, but her eyes didn’t. V considered her words for a moment. Somewhere in the distance a barely audible announcement droned over loudspeakers, calling doctor so-and-so to room this-and-that. Otherwise, it was eerily quiet in this part of the hospital. No beeping machines, no hectically running people in the hallways. V began to understand why she’d wanted to meet him in her private office instead of an examination room downstairs now.

“Back in April I was shot in the head by my fixer and dumped in a landfill,” V then said, “I think I’ve been wronged a fair amount in my life so far. Although that surely takes the cake.”

He paused for a moment.

“Admittedly, had I had the chance, I’d returned him the favor. Although, I wouldn’t have called it revenge. Justice suits me better.”

Fuentes said nothing for a couple of moments, just studied his face. V could see her thoughts racing, although he wasn’t quite sure about her next move just yet.

“That’s your old injury?” she then simply asked and picked up her tablet again. She pulled up his brain scans and sat it down in the center of the desk so they both had a good view of the screen.

“A degeneration like this is nothing I’ve ever seen caused by a mere gunshot wound,” she said, “Although, I don’t recall someone still standing in front of me and talking normally with an injury as deep and massive in that general area of the brain…”

V’s pulse sped up just slightly when she looked back up at him again, inquisitive and head tilted slightly.

“You were very lucky…”

“’Luck’ doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface,” he said, peeling away at his cast again. The little plastic barrier between his left thumb and index finger was smooth as glass already from his consistent fidgeting with it.

“Was… or rather, is it an infection?” she continued to inquire, “I can imagine, ending up in a landfill barely alive with a wound like that…”

“I guess you could call it that, although not from the cause you assume,” V smirked, suppressed a chuckle. He almost heard Johnny’s disapproving scoff, saw him in the corner of the room leaned against the shelf, flipping him off with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. Almost, not really. Not like he used to be able to.

“You remember the murder of Saburo Arasaka?” he tried to bring himself back into the conversation, out of his head. He wanted to bait the doctor some more, get her intrigued.

Fuentes seemed confused but nodded.

“His son killed him, or so was the conclusion in the end. Although, I remember assassins were blamed for it at first, hired killers. It was all over the news for weeks, until the parade. Then that was all over the news…”

Slowly, it began to dawn on her.

“You were involved in that?”

“Unwillingly, not directly,” V quickly clarified, “But before I explain how this is all connected and important… What do you want from me?”

Fuentes slumped back into her chair slightly and cleared her throat, disappointed almost.

“Would you be open to a job even if it boils down to a simple act of revenge?” she asked, then huffed amusedly, “I never would have guessed to ever ask a self-proclaimed mercenary that question.”

“Yeah, we’re generally pretty amoral people, all the way through to our cold, money-filled hearts,” V said bluntly, and Fuentes cheeks turned a slightly darker shade. She cleared her throat.

“Don’t worry, I’m joking,” V added after keeping her in suspense for at least a little bit, “Whether or not I take a job usually depends on what I can gain from it, so… Tell me the details. I’m listening.”

“You are very different from how I imagined you,” she then sighed, avoiding answering again, “I was surprised the other day already, but I chalked it up to the shock, your medication...”

V shifted in his seat slightly but tried to keep his posture relaxed and open.

“What did you imagine?” he asked.

“I’m not even sure anymore,” she said, “Less strings attached… or rather, different strings altogether.”

“You thought, ‘I’ll just hire someone to solve my problem for me, how complicated can it be’?”

V couldn’t hold himself back, because very often it boiled down to that. Not that he minded it particularly. Fuentes shrugged.

“Maybe,” she said, “In the end, it doesn’t matter. We’re here now and… And if you can help me with my problem, I’m more than willing to help you with yours free of charge in exchange.”

“Money’s not an issue,” V said, as Kerry had reassured him many times before as well. Truthfully, he still hoped he could somehow get out of having to assist her revenge plans, whatever they were.

“Well… regardless, you may not have a choice but help me.”

And here it was, the catch V had been waiting for, as if she’d read his mind.

“Why don’t we finally stop with the games, and you tell me what you want,” he said, no longer hiding his growing impatience.

Fuentes slowly turned to open a drawer on the other side of her desk. She pulled out a small black shard case, somewhat old-fashioned looking. Carefully, almost as if she feared it could shatter, she placed it on the desk and then slowly slid it closer to V without letting go.

“Have a look,” she said, “Far from a professional dossier, I fear, but I hope it helps as a start.”

V reached out to take the case and ejected the contained shard. He knew the model, knew that even if Fuentes had put a daemon or virus on it and this whole meeting was an elaborate trap, his system had enough countermeasures built in to catch it before it could cause any real damage. Not letting his hesitation shine through he inserted the shard into his free neck slot. A handful of files popped up on his interface, indeed not in the quality or as organized as he was used to from his fixers. But it was a more than decent start for the work of an amateur like Fuentes.

He opened a video clip front and center among the files. It was only a few seconds long and looped, showing a man around Fuentes’ age, maybe a bit older. The quality of the footage wasn’t the best, as if illegally captured from a public camera feed. The man wore a dark suit but was otherwise rather non-descript. Light hair, glasses… ironically, the same way Fuentes kept reminding him of Takemura, this man reminded V of Hellman. He had to do a double take, but no, the more often he saw him get out of a Delamain cab and hurriedly walk towards the entrance of what appeared to be a hotel, the more certain he was that this wasn’t Hellman. V skimmed through the other documents attached.

“Nathaniel Sutter,” he said, as he began to read through the files, “The name rings a bell… Not sure why though…”

Fuentes shrugged slightly and shook her head.

“It would surprise me if you knew him,” she said, “He is good at keeping a low profile, always has been. Finding a way to get to him, wherever he is at the moment, would be part of your job.”

“Last known place of residence Palm Street 78, Apartment 3, Charter Hill. Back in March still. Worked at BioDyne as a high-ranking researcher, manager… stopped active work for the corporation five years ago but remains on the executive board until today,” V summarized what he could gather from the files, some of them internal BioDyne documents he was certain were not meant for outsider’s eyes. Others were reports from business magazines, newsfeed articles, and so on, also not his go-to reading material. But he was certain he’d seen the name before somewhere.

“Let me guess…” he said after copying the data over and ejecting the shard again to return it to its case, “He ruined your career and you wanna get back at him as a late revenge, forever leave him in the unknown about what he did wrong?”

Fuentes smiled and shook her head as she took the shard back from V.

“No,” she said, holding the case gently between her fingertips before slowly looking back up at him, “I want his last thoughts to be regret. I want him to know that it was me who had him killed, and that it was for stealing my life’s work for nothing but the furtherment of his pathetic career.”

She spat her words out like venom, her eyes burning with disdain. V was quick to put two and two together. Also, he liked her bravado. He preferred clients that wanted their targets to know exactly why they met their demise over those who wanted him to do all the dirty work to keep their own conscience and hands clean.

“So, I think what you want is justice as well, not revenge,” he said after a short pause.

“What’s the difference, in your opinion?” Fuentes asked, leaning back in her chair again, eyebrows raised and shrugging slightly.

“Revenge is all about emotion,” V said, “You wronged me, so I’ll wrong you back, because I’m pissed or upset or otherwise hurt. Emotions always make things complicated. Justice, on the other hand, is logical. You analyze what went wrong, how you’ve been wronged… and then find an adequate punishment.”

Fuentes chuckled.

“A mercenary or a philosopher?”

“Neither,” V said, “Not really.”

Fuentes had no response to that, only smiled as if something had just clicked into place. V took the opportunity to change the subject away from him again.

“So, you did work on what they’re now marketing as the cure for MS?” he asked and finally Fuentes nodded. She let out a heavy sigh, her eyes drifting across her bookshelves briefly before finding V’s again.

“Of course, in the end, it was all in the name of BioDyne,” she explained, “It had always been a project intended to create great profits for people already a hundred times richer than what six generations of my family ever called their own. But somewhere deep down I was convinced, young and naïve, that regardless it was an innovation that could save the lives of thousands one day.”

“Was he your supervisor?” V asked, once more pulling up the video of Sutter and sending a handful of somewhat decent still frames to Nix for a quick background check. He would’ve loved to dig up some dirt on him himself, but if Fuentes kept her word he’d still be occupied for a while here for further testing and examination of his symptoms.

“We both started at BioDyne almost at the same time, both fresh out of university,” she explained, “He came here from a different city, and we bonded over both being outsiders in NC. Originally, we also shared similar goals, but somewhere down the line something changed.”

“Heard that story a million times before,” V said, exaggerating, but Fuentes just nodded again, knowingly.

“It’s as old as time,” she said, “But it still hurts, looking back… Anyway yes, you guessed right, he ruined my career – but not even in the sense that I was focused on advancing it. My primary goal was furthering my research, helping people. Long story short, something somewhere was going on in another department of the company, and because of it, even though we were ready, we weren’t allowed to publish our work.”

“Marketing schemes?” V wondered aloud, remembering similar ploys from Arasaka. Two departments that didn’t even know of each other’s existence influenced each other’s operations, which caused many frustrations on both sides. A handful of times it had been down to V and his subordinates even to play two departments against each other to test morale and company loyalty. He was sure all big corporations worked similarly on the inside.

“I have no clue,” Fuentes only shrugged, “I just know one night I went home none the wiser, and the next morning all my data and findings were gone because I had complained about the management’s practices.”

“To Sutter?” V asked and Fuentes nodded.

“He was also the only one who had access to my data, knew where I stored some more obscure findings that weren’t even relevant to our research. It was all gone, and I was told to pack my stuff and leave. And to better keep my mouth shut or else I’d never find work in my field again.”

“How long ago was that?” V asked, just to be sure the information Nix had given him matched up with her story.

“Fifteen years this year,” Fuentes said.

“A long time,” V nodded, “Why now the sudden lust for revenge?”

Fuentes smiled sadly.

“Because the cure is out now and people are being helped,” she said, “I saw some first results and findings, read the recent studies they conducted, and everything is working as intended. I don’t care anymore what happens now, as long as I can be sure my work wasn’t in vain.”

V frowned.

“Your work for BioDyne wasn’t in vain then, no,” he said, “What about you helping me though, what timeline of events are you picturing here?”

If she would only help him after he took care of Sutter and then instantly got assassinated by BioDyne agents, V would’ve been used as nothing but a tool once more. That he refused.

“I guess that depends on how urgently you need my help,” she said, “And how invasive my help is going to have to be.”

She finally returned the shard case to her desk, and V noticed now that there were some additional little clicking noises – a secret compartment probably, as she should keep something like that in one.

“Shall we begin with the classic ‘how are we feeling today, Mr. Ezaki?’, or would you like to continue where we left off, with the infection and the gunshot wound?”

The pit in V’s stomach grew as there really was no way to evade the topic anymore now. Fuentes had played with open cards, given him a decent bunch of incriminating information that he may as well use against her this instant if he wanted to. She’d put her trust in him, now he had to do the same.

“I will omit some details here and there, as they’re not relevant to my current situation anymore,” he began slowly, “And I want to protect the identities of some people – and you from knowing too much, too.”

“Of course,” Fuentes said calmly. V took a deep breath and steeled himself to tell his story once more, and once more as well to a person he barely knew.

“How familiar are you with Arasaka’s ‘Secure your Soul’ program?”

“Somewhat, but only on a superficial level,��� Fuentes said, “It didn’t work as intended, as far as I know, but I can do some more reading on it.”

“If you need anything, I can also send you some more substantial data on it. It technically isn’t even classified anymore, was all part of the data leaks.”

More or less, at least.

“Sure…” Fuentes said, “Although I’m not sure I can follow why this is important. Wasn’t ‘Secure your Soul’ marketed as a means to speak to the dead, basically? What the engrams were actually used for in the end we’ll not delve into just now, but… You’re alive, most certainly.”

“Yeah… somewhat.”

V sat up straight again, cleared his throat, and began to recount the events that were set in motion at No-Tell-Motel in the early morning hours of April 17th 2077. He left out most details, especially about the hunt for Hellman, Evelyn’s involvement and what became of her. He didn’t mention Alt or Johnny by name and omitted all that happened in Dogtown entirely.

What he told Fuentes about was the Relic kickstarting him back into life, somehow, Johnny’s presence and his engram creeping into his brain. He explained how the Relic 2.0 was supposed to work and that his didn’t as intended and yet even better than imagined by its creator. He tried to explain what happened at Mikoshi, and how he felt like afterwards, ever since… Blue-Eyes he decided not to mention yet, but he touched upon trying varying “therapies”, of which the most recent one had many undesirable side-effects.

Fuentes listened with great attention, rarely interrupted him, and when she did, only to clarify the more medical aspects V touched upon. She noted down his symptoms during his attacks back then and now, and requested access to any of the scans Vik had done during all this time to get an idea of the overall development of his physical and mental state in the last months.

“So, if I’m understanding you correctly,” she eventually said after V had concluded his story, “The V I’m talking to right now, your personality, memories, and so on… is all stored on the biochip as an engram?”

Hearing it spelled out like that by a stranger somehow made sound even more surreal than it was. Or a slap in the face, a reality check V didn’t want or need.

“Can you understand now why this is not something I want to be public knowledge?” he asked, and Fuentes nodded pensively. She leaned back in her chair for a moment, looked up at the ceiling, then returned her attention back to her tablet.

“Your brain scans seemed so normal though,” she said, pulling the images up again as if she needed to be sure, “Well, a mild concussion, but other than that…”

“That’s beyond what I’m able to explain,” V said, “Some of my previous doctors said brain scans could seem normal on the surface, because my body has to be kept up and running somehow. There is some brain activity, but all higher functions are carried out on the Relic. The chip itself undid some of the damage from the gunshot because it tried to mimic, recreate the engram’s brain. I’m not even sure how far completed the process was, but given how easy it was for him to take over in the end, pretty far I guess.”

V's stomach turned at the thought, the memories, the feeling of sheer helplessness as he could only watch as Johnny piloted his body. Wondering still what happened during the times when he was fully blacked out, as Johnny had never been a fan of telling the whole truth.

Fuentes folded her hands on the table again, brow furrowed and studying V’s face.

“Your own engram can’t settle back in the same way… why exactly?”

“The Arasaka-AI I spoke to said the process I underwent couldn’t be reversed. My theory is that, since this specific Relic is a faulty prototype, it simply is incapable of kickstarting another process of rewiring my brain again. Or even if it could, my body has been through too much already to be able to take such radical adjustments.”

“Some radical measures may be needed indeed,” Fuentes said quietly, and V shivered, “But I am taking into account that you’re currently not in good health and we have to be careful. If you’re willing to accept my help still, of course.”

“I would like to hear out your plan at the very least,” V said, not trying to let his desperation show, “And, for my friends’ sake... maybe you can give me your opinion how bad it is. How much time I got left if things go on like they do currently.”

Fuentes nodded, then they both went quiet for a couple of seconds.

“This Arasaka-AI…” she broke the heavy silence, “Did it ever occur to you that it may have been lying about your condition?”

V thought about it for a moment.

“To gain what exactly?” he wondered.

“Not sure, just a thought,” Fuentes shrugged, “An AI created by Arasaka surely would act in Arasaka’s best interests. In this case, discourage you from leaving and carrying all their secrets out into the world.”

V shuddered, hoped that Fuentes didn’t notice it.

“The engram might’ve done it instead of me, had I given up my body,” he said, he hoped, “Besides, it’s a little bit more complicated than that with this particular AI. But that’s none of your concern.”

“Alright,” Fuentes nodded, “As I said, it was just a thought.”

She picked up her tablet again, read through her notes. Then she motioned to get up from her chair, setting the tablet back down, but hesitated.

“May I have a look at the chip?” she asked, still in her chair waiting for V’s okay. He froze.

“Just the slot, examine it externally,” she clarified, made tapping gestures.

V shifted in his seat slightly.

“I’d just… ask you to be careful.”

“Of course,” she nodded, then got up and slowly walked around her desk, past the bookshelves, coming to a halt to V’s right.

“May I?” she asked, smiling, and moving gently, as if she could sense his tension and fear. She probably could, to be fair. She motioned wanting to touch his head and neck, and after another couple of seconds of hesitation V nodded and turned his head away to bare his neck ports. Fuentes put one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his head, gently and slowly turning it to get a good look.

“Is this alright?” she made sure, “If at any point it hurts, let me know.”

“It’s fine,” V said, his voice much quieter and timid than he wanted. His whole body was tingling from tension and anxiety.

Fuentes’ hand wandered from the back of his neck to the ports behind his ear, embedded directly into his nervous system and connecting what was left of him on that chip with what was left of his body.

“This one?” she said, tapping beside the port that contained the Relic, and V shivered, his entire skin covered in goosebumps in an instant. He couldn’t reply.

“Does it hurt?” Fuentes asked gently, “It doesn’t look infected but…”

“Been having issues with these ports since I was a teen,” V explained briefly, “Didn’t take an upgrade well one time and ever since they’ve been prone to act up.”

“I see…” Fuentes nodded, “I bet slotting an experimental biochip in there didn’t improve the situation.”

“No...”

She let go of his head again and moved away slightly to give him space. V took a deep breath and almost reflexively his hand shot up to his neck, brushing over the slots as if to make sure they were still there.

Fuentes leaned against the edge of her desk, her arms crossed.

“You ever take the metro?” she asked after a pause, “Hang out in shady bars and dark alleys?”

“What?” V squinted up at her, hand still covering the Relic.

“I’m just wondering what you’re doing against picksockets,” she explained calmly, but her brow deeply furrowed with worry, “Or in general, any other protective measures you utilize to not have someone come up at you and yank this from your neck.”

V dropped his hand and began to fumble with his cast again.

“Doing everything in my power,” he said quietly at first, but at the same time, anger welled up in him. At his situation, not at the doctor necessarily.

“I’m well aware how risky it is to just step out the front door like a normal person, when my life is far from that. But… what’s the alternative? Lock myself up until I die?”

Fuentes nodded pensively, understandingly.

“You mentioned this therapy you tried… You think the medication has increased this feeling of apathy, of not being able to voice your thoughts clearly? How long since you’re not taking the pills anymore?”

“Just a day,” V said, not exactly happy about the topic change either.

“Do you feel clearer now than you did a few days ago?”

He paused to really think it through. His emotions were all over the place, the last few days had been an intense firework of horrible impressions and new, uncomfortable discoveries. He’d had troubles being honest with Kerry, although, their argument yesterday morning, even if it hurt, had been very straightforward. Much more so than many of the other conversations they’d had lately.

“I… can’t say for sure,” he said, “Maybe. But I’ve had clearer days in-between occasionally, too.”

“Alright,” Fuentes said, then she walked back to her chair to sit down. She looked at V intensely again for what seemed like an eternity. He didn’t recall the last time he felt as naked while being fully clothed.

“Knowing your case a bit better now, I see two main problems. The first: the decline of your physical and mental health. Your deteriorating nervous system, seizures, depression, depersonalization, and so on. That is something I need to examine more closely, put you through some tests. And we have to run a whole bunch of scans, unfortunately. Some we can do today, but others take some time and require planning in advance.”

“Yay, tests and scans,” V said as unenthusiastically as possible, and he didn’t even have to try hard.

Fuentes chuckled.

“I know, you’ve probably been through that a lot with your previous doctors. If you still have their findings available, I’d love to see them, too.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” V said, raising his hand to slow Fuentes down, “But can you tell me like… in general if you have any plan, any idea of how to tackle this already? Just so I know where I’m at.”

In fact, he solely wanted, needed something concrete beyond “we need to do tests” that he could tell Kerry. A sliver of hope, a promise, maybe, that V didn’t need to keep but the doctor. He needed someone else who could take the blame if things went down south if he was being completely honest.

“That would bring me to your second main problem: the biochip continuously taking up a slot in an already strained system while being extremely exposed to external influences,” Fuentes said, “There’s a reason why these slots are not intended for long-term usage, and we rely on built-in cyberware solutions for permanent modification purposes. In your case, you currently have no other choice, of course. But it is still something that should be tackled in the short rather than the long term.”

Fuentes turned the tablet back on and opened V’s brain scans in a program that allowed her to draw onto the 3D-model, visualizing her ideas.

“I should preface this by saying that yes, your case is unique. I’ve never done anything like this before. I have an idea, but I need to do a lot of research and preparations first, still… and you can use that time to prepare everything else you feel you need to prepare… Just in case, if you catch my meaning.”

V swallowed.

“That invasive, then, huh?” he tried to joke to ease the tension. Fuentes smiled sadly. She drew some lines along the backside of the scan of V’s head.

“My current idea is to create a safer container and environment for the chip inside your skull,” she explained, “We can make use of the existing connections… it will have to stay in its port, obviously, but we can pull it inside as a whole and place it roughly here maybe.”

She drew a vertical line along the back of his skull, right at the base.

“The exact spot I’ll have to determine once I have a full scan of your system configuration, nervous system, and so on,” she added, “And yes, the procedure how I’m picturing it right now will be invasive, painful, probably leave scars… but it will contribute to stabilizing the Relic’s overall state, having it in a container actually designed to hold it long-term.”

“I see,” V said, but he struggled to take in the information, even though Fuentes seemed extremely confident and competent in the way she explained and sketched out her thoughts.

“In regard to your deteriorating health, well,” she said after a moment of contemplation, “As I said, I need to run tests first. We need to take as much strain from your body as possible, you need to rest, relax.”

“Easier said than done. There’s an BioDyne executive board member I’ve been asked to kill.”

Fuentes’ face twitched briefly, and she just nodded.

“I know,” she said, voice heavy, “But as I said, there may be no way around it.”

V frowned.

“I think the best way to tackle your health concerns, would be a modified version of the nanobots we used in our studies at BioDyne back then,” she explained, “They’re not the same anymore as the ones utilized in the current treatments, BioDyne heavily controls their usage too. Obviously. But I know for a fact that Sutter kept some of our prototypes to himself, secretly of course. Gloating, and so sure of himself he’d never be discovered.”

V was tempted to ask for a moment what Sutter would keep them for, but with the information he had on him currently, the answer was obvious: to sell them at a huge profit should things ever go awry with BioDyne. Every single person rising high enough in the ranks of a corporation had exit plans like this. Had V not spent his last 6 months at Arasaka high out of his mind most of the time, had he not invested his spare time and money into drugs and random hookups but an exit strategy, he probably wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Admittedly though, he wasn’t sure where he would be sitting instead, and if he’d be any happier or maybe even more miserable.

“And you could reprogram these prototypes to… reprogram my nervous system, fix all the damages, basically?” V concluded.

“That would be my approach, yes.”

He leaned back in his chair again, rubbed his forehead, his temples throbbing slightly.

“This therapy I tried,” he said, “The one with the bad side effects. I think that one utilized nanobots as well.”

Fuentes tilted her head.

“You think it utilized nanobots?” she asked, “Your doctor didn’t discuss their use with you?”

“It’s… complicated.”

He lowered his hand and looked back at her again.

“Believe me, the less you know about this, the better. But I think I was given something as part of a treatment that I shouldn’t have been given. And I’m not sure how much damage it did. So, I’m a little wary about nanobots reorganizing my brain.”

“Understandable…” Fuentes said tensely, “Well… I can assure you at least that I will not administer anything to you that I did not thoroughly discuss with you before. And have your consent on.”

V nodded weakly, shrugged. Words meant nothing, deeds meant everything.

Fuentes eyes wandered back to her tablet, the 3d model, her notes.

“I wish I had something a little more substantial to offer at this point,” she then said, “I think I could already make a clearer assessment once we’ve run some initial tests.”

V let their whole conversation play in his mind again, trying to think if there was anything left he needed clarification on, anything he forgot to mention that would be important.

“You said that Sutter likely still has the nanobots,” he said, “What makes you so sure that he didn’t sell them years ago?”

Fuentes shuffled slightly, as V seemed to have hit the mark once more.

“Alright, there is one thing I wasn’t entirely honest about,” she said, and V steeled himself for whatever was to come.

“Well, now’s the time to spill it,” he said calmly, “Or I’m out the door.”

Fuentes’ eyes told him that she knew he was bluffing, but she also had to know that this would sooner or later backfire if she didn’t tell the whole truth.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on Sutter with the help of private investigators for years,” she explained, “As I said, he’s a slippery one, always extra sure to cover his tracks... But not impossible to find information on. Right before he disappeared off the face of the earth my P.I. at the time captured the video footage I already showed you, but… that’s just part of the clip. It goes on a bit further.”

“Where’s the rest of it?” V asked, but he knew the answer already.

“Not with me, not here, no,” she said, confirming his suspicion, “I can send it your way via some detours, just in case. But basically, he met with a businessman, and from what my P.I. told me and documented, I’m fairly certain he sold him the bots.”

V sighed.

“Then killing him will only be for your revenge purposes after all and not actually help me…”

Fuentes shook her head.

“No, no. He would still have the blueprints, I’m certain. He has to. He has a special memory chip, almost impossible to trace, that he kept all important data on that no one else should get their hands on.”

“In a ‘sell his nanobots but keep them too’ kinda way?” V asked, and Fuentes nodded.

“He prided himself with being so smart and playing everyone all the time. The chip is, according to him, pretty much unhackable, unretrievable. Killing him would instantly delete the chip’s contents, too, so, no point in doing that.”

“How to get your hands on it then?” V asked, “Cut it out of his body while he’s still alive?”

Fuentes said nothing, only looked down to her lap.

“Fantastic…” V sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Fuentes said, “There’s a reason I didn’t want to start off with this.”

“And you’re still not even sure if there is anything useful on the chip, mind you,” V said, trying to remain calm, “And you’ll still have to construct, reprogram, and get the nanobots working if I can get my hands on the blueprints at all. If I even manage to find Sutter. That is a lot of ifs in return for even more uncertainty.”

“Of course,” Fuentes said quietly, “I can promise you that constructing and adjusting the nanobots to work for your particular condition actually is not as complicated as it sounds. I would need a DNA sample from you from prior to the gunshot wound, but I’m relatively certain your profile is stored in your old Trauma Team records from your time at Arasaka.”

“Probably, yeah,” V said.

“There are means and ways, always,” Fuentes nodded.

“What if there are no blueprints, if he sold them together with the bots?”

“I could look into alternatives… constructing new bots from scratch would certainly take longer. A month or two but given your condition we might not have as long.”

“If I could get my hands on the bots from my therapy,” V suggested, “Could that help?”

Fuentes hummed.

“I would certainly like to take a look at them, yes. If only to tell you what exactly they’re doing and if they could be causing your symptoms.”

V shifted to reach into his jacket’s inner pocket, pulling out a ziplock bag with the pills coming from Mr. Blue Eyes. Fuentes’ expression was almost hilariously confused when he dropped the bag on the table.

“Don’t ask,” he said, “My Ripper thinks there’s nanobots embedded in these pills.”

“Not quite how you’d administer them, necessarily…” Fuentes mused as she picked up the bag and held it up against the light, “They’d have to dissolve over time or otherwise leave the body eventually, as you’d keep adding new ones by taking new pills. Not impossible, but the standard procedure is introducing them via the spine and extracting them again once their task is completed.”

“Everything about this whole situation is a special case,” V said, “I would say ‘I’d love to hear anything you figure out’… but actually, I’m not sure if I really do.”

Fuentes nodded sternly and put the pills away safely in the same secret compartment her shard on Sutter was stored in.

“I will have a look at them later,” she promised.

“Alright,” V said, holding on to the armrest with his healthy hand, “Anything else you can tell me that I need to know?”

“There is… one more thing,” Fuentes nodded, “I know where Sutter is.”

She paused, but V didn’t know what to respond.

“But you’ll still have to figure out how to get to him, I’m… drawing a blank on that.”

V squinted.

“You’re making it sound like he’s on the moon.”

Fuentes laughed weakly and tapped something into the search bar on her tablet.

“Almost.” she said. Then a familiar advertisement started playing on the screen.

*****************

>> Next Chapter

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Notes:

This one has been in the works since January, and chapter 14 is almost done actually, as I let this one here sit and stew a bit in between, dreading the editing xD Ngl, when it comes to the medical stuff I always struggle a bit, because I want it to be realistic, but I also have no clue about much xD I hope this isn't all too long-winded and was still an enjoyable read with some twists and turns as V and Dr. Fuentes try to always keep the upper hand against the other, subtly!

I really wanted to develop the doctor a little bit more, give her an interesting background and shady goals and have those all make sense in the grand scheme of things... Maybe you can already guess where her enemy Sutter's exit strategy led him to, where V has to follow soon? 👀

Next chapter out hopefully soon! :D

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