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themurphyzone · 3 years ago

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Nova Ch 11

AN: This is gonna be the last of the set-up chapters. The story will start snowballing (see what I did there? Heehee) from the next chapter on.

This chapter includes an art piece I requested from the talented @plutonis, and I’m so glad I can finally show this off because it contains some very gorgeous colors.

AO3 Link

Ch 11: Spectrum

Terran Date 2015.4.28

Yesterday, Pinky showed me one of his favorite pieces of media to thank me for the story of Heikro var Silda, even though he cried for fifteen minutes because of the tragic ending. While indeed sad, I’m proud to say I remained steadfast and controlled my emotions upon revisiting the story. And while I told him it wasn’t necessary, he insisted and I acquiesced to his demands.

That’s how Pinky introduced me to The Lion King. Once again, I remained strong even when the emotional distress threatened to override my logical mind. It was...rather difficult, I’ll admit. We watched the sequel afterward, and though I’ve created five different charts that list the plot points in order, I cannot come up with a satisfactory sequence of events that connects both movies into a cohesive narrative.

Moving onto real life matters...Pinky seems to be under the impression that I will be a permanent resident of the lab.

Celestial bodies above, what use is my intelligence if I’m trapped among heathen, dimwitted fools who can’t tell the difference between left and right! I refuse to be a lab rat, made to do the so-called dominant species’ bidding. Snowball and I shall be taking over this planet and progressing their backwards society far beyond their wildest dreams! That’s what we came here for, and I will not be sidetracked again.

As for Pinky...well, his imagination can make up some personalities for his inanimate object friends once I leave. He doesn’t have any shortage of those. The newest addition to the crew is an eraser nub with the moniker of ‘Gummy’.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

Brain saved the new transmission to an encrypted, password-protected file. None of the scientists were technical experts, so the odds of discovery were miniscule or nonexistent. He only had five audio files in total, a meager amount compared to the hundreds of transmissions he’d made back on New Selene. The pointer hovered over the Delete All button. He didn’t have a reason to keep making transmissions when he was leaving the lab behind in just a few days.

Still, he hesitated.

Maybe he could leave it as a memento for Pinky. But even a basic level of encryption and case-sensitive password would remain far beyond Pinky’s capabilities.

Perhaps it was best to leave the issue for another night.

He logged off the computer and joined Pinky, who’d surrounded himself with Gummy and the rest of his inanimate object friends as he played a board game called Monopoly. Though Brain had looked up the rules and goals of the game during his online session out of curiosity, he didn’t really understand the appeal or mass marketability of such an unbalanced game.

Although, given the number of different versions of Monopoly out there, creating and selling his own version of the game with the title of Brainopoly could prove to be a viable plan.

Pinky was playing as if there were four players and not just a free-for-all against a nickel, button, and eraser. It became disturbingly obvious that Pinky was either overly generous or just woefully terrible at mental math, because he continually doled out the wrong amount of money from the bank or his own meager cash pile.

And Pinky was far better off if Brain cut in now, because there was no chance that anyone else was catching up to Gummy, who owned the most lucrative properties and had the largest amount of money.

He had to stop anthropomorphizing these objects. He was starting to think like Pinky, and that was an extremely distressing thought.

“You’re losing to an eraser,” Brain said. Pinky only had a few fives in currency, and the three properties he owned were all flipped over and mortgaged.

“Yeah, Gummy’s just very good at this game! Narf!” Pinky said as he rolled the dice for Mr. Button. “It’s so nice of him to let us sleep in his Marvin Garden Apartments though. Otherwise we’d be homeless!”

“Nice indeed,” Brain replied. For his peace of mind, he didn’t dare press for more details.

Pinky threw the dice, then moved the bucket token seven spaces, landing on the Luxury Tax space. “That’ll be seventy-five dollars, Mr. Button,” Pinky said as he gathered the money, which only totaled sixty. And Mr. Button’s four properties were all mortgaged. Pinky realized this too. “Oh...you don’t have enough. Poit.”

Any normal player would’ve tossed in the towel right there, but Pinky wasn’t a conventional player by any means. He frowned, scratched his head, then picked up his own pile of fives and tossed them onto the sixty, bringing the amount to seventy-five, with two leftover fives for Mr. Button.

“You can have that, Mr. Button!” Pinky chirped as he dumped the luxury tax money in the middle of the board. “With a little more for the bus!”

Pinky had completely knocked himself out of the game.

This was supposed to be an extremely competitive game for families and seasoned professionals, right? Though the rules of Monopoly appeared confusing and controversial to most players, he was certain that nobody would willingly lose with such a reckless method.

Well...maybe it was just a fluke. Pinky was only playing against himself, so if he wanted to give up the money to something he was making the decisions for, that was his choice.

Besides, he couldn’t watch this game much longer.

“I’ll be your next opponent,” Brain announced. He’d never played before, but the basics seemed simple enough. And the math involved was basic arithmetic he could do in his sleep. “Reset the board at once, Pinky.”

Pinky’s tail wagged as he gathered up the houses and hotels and tossed them back into the box, then settled down as he skillfully shuffled the Community Chest and Chance cards. From the way he hummed and twirled around, an outsider could easily mistake Brain for a playmate instead of an opponent.

Brain quickly read over the instruction sheet, then divided the game currency into a starting amount for himself, Pinky, and the bank.

“Can I be in charge of the property cards, Brain?” Pinky asked as he organized them by color.

“Yes, but I shall handle all other banker duties,” Brain said. “Listen closely, Pinky. I’ve looked up stories about Monopoly games going on for a long time with no definitive winner, so we’ll stop the game when one of us runs out of money, or if chance has favored you or I enough that we can place a hotel on the board.”

“Chance always has a problem with favoritism,” Pinky said as he moved the horse token to the Go space. Indeed, chance hasn’t always favored members of either of their species, but it could stand to be more merciful during a board game. He hugged the horse token to his chest. “Anyways, Pharfigtwoton is always my choice! What’s yours?”

Brain didn’t understand how anyone in their right mind would want to play as a wheelbarrow or bucket, and the only pieces that interested him at all were the ones that resembled modes of Terran transportation. In the end, he chose the battleship.

He was tempted to call it the Conquistador Two, but he didn’t want to follow the trend of naming random objects.

“Good one!” Pinky said as he pushed the ship over to the horse token. “A gorgeous ship like this needs a name...so I hereby dub thee Battley McBattleface!”

“We’re calling it the Conquistador Two, and that’s final,” Brain snapped.

“The Conquesodor Two,” Pinky agreed.

They tossed the dice to decide turn order, and Pinky won that battle easily since Brain had the misfortune to roll double ones.

On his first turn, Pinky managed to land on St. Charles Place with a high roll. He happily shelled out the money required to buy the property. “I’m putting a nice dog park here!” he declared, placing the unused dog token in the magenta space above the property. “Now Pharfigtwoton can give rides to all the puppies!”

Brain didn’t know if Monopoly required players to create their own storyline, but it certainly made the game more interesting and baffling at the same time. He rolled the dice, sighing when he could only advance to Reading Railroad.

He hoped it wouldn’t be a trend for Pinky to receive high rolls while he was stuck in the first half of the board.

But he quickly changed his mind once he paid up for Reading Railroad and read through the card information. Just like any real life war or corporate strategy, the key to his victory would lie in controlling the flow of transportation and goods!

Pinky landed on New York on his next turn, rambling about taking all the puppies to New York for a double decker bus tour of the city as he slid a stack of bills to Brain. Brain sighed and tossed an extra twenty bill back at Pinky. He wished Pinky would pay more attention to adding properly than the make-believe puppies.

Brain rolled the dice and moved his battleship to Virginia, claiming the property so Pinky couldn’t control one-fourth of the board this early in the game.

“Brain, can I have a house?” Pinky asked as he drew a Community Chest card. He read through the card and grinned. “Awww, I got second in a beauty pageant! Thank you, everyone! It’s such an honor! Oh, and it says I also won ten dollars.”

“You don’t meet the conditions required for a house, Pinky,” Brain said, giving Pinky a ten. He didn’t care about the fake beauty pageant, just that money was either gained or lost depending on luck of the draw.

“Oh, I’ll keep them off the board,” Pinky promised. “I just want a house for Terry to live in.”

He held up the dog token, who was now apparently called Terry.

“Fine, but don’t mix your ridiculous fantasies with the board,” Brain sighed and tossed a green house at Pinky, which smacked him in the head when he didn’t catch it in time. Pinky laughed it off and coaxed Terry to stand next to the house.

Houses and hotels. His Internet searches on the Clarkes led to tons of websites on the Terran real estate market and hotel industry.

Which reminded Brain that he hadn’t shared his research into the Clarkes with Pinky yet. There hadn’t been enough time during the day, where the incompetent scientists poked and prodded them. And in Brain’s case, tried to figure out where the antennae came from.

Their hypotheses, and he was being exceedingly generous when he described their speculation and conspiracy theories as hypotheses, amounted to claiming a Terran mouse and insect had reproduced together.

“I’ve brushed up on the Clarkes so we can properly impersonate them at the party. According to-scrik!” Brain hissed under his breath when he landed on New York and had to pay Pinky.

“Sixteen please!” Pinky chirped. “All proceeds will go to buying toys and treats for good dogs in need!”

Brain grudgingly gave up the sixteen. Probability was not on his side tonight. “As I was saying before cruel fate reared its ugly head, the man I shall impersonate, Anthony Clarke, is an esteemed real estate and luxury hotel mogul, with a net worth in the billions. His success is rooted in savvy, ruthless business against competitors. It appears that he and Lamont are old college acquaintances, which we can spin to our advantage. And...yes! B&O Railroad!”

He claimed the B&O Railroad for himself, and Pinky wrinkled his nose. “I wouldn’t ride on the Body Odor Railroad even if you pay me in cheese,” he said.

Brain rolled his eyes. “The temptation for cheese is too powerful for your empty mind and bottomless stomach.”

“You’re right, Brain. It’s too yummy.” Pinky licked his lips. “So does that make me Mrs. Zoey Clarke then? Unless he divorced her already. I haven’t kept up with them in a while.” The butler on the phone had made a similar comment, thoroughly expecting ‘Mr. Clarke’ to divorce his spouse by the end of the week.

“So you’re aware of the Clarkes,” Brain said. He rolled the dice, and chance immediately sentenced him to jail. He had to push his battleship all the way to the jail space.

But all of this divorcing nonsense was trivial to his goals. Hardly worth a footnote.

The objective was to infiltrate the party, mingle with the guests to throw off suspicion, then steal the military weapon and take over the world, not involve himself in a Terran’s relationship drama.

“Ooh, tough.” Pinky clicked his tongue in sympathy as he bought Waterworks. “But everyone knows who the Clarkes are. Didn’t you see anything about all those divorces when you looked them up?”

“I’m more interested in his business ventures than his messy personal life,” Brain replied. “All this talk about divorce is simply incidental. But now I digress. Escaping jail so I may continue my conquering campaign is of utmost priority.”

“Doubles! Doubles!” Pinky chanted as Brain threw the dice. A two and three faced up, but no doubles. Pinky deflated, but only for a moment. Then he picked up a fifty. “Here, Brain. I’ll bail you out.”

From Brain’s brief skim over the rules, he didn’t recall a single one that allowed players to bail each other out of jail. He wanted to refuse and tell Pinky to focus on winning for himself, but obtaining Pennsylvania Railroad, which he’d missed the first time he’d passed through this section of the board, was just too tempting.

Brain took the fifty from Pinky, put it in the bank, then moved his battleship out of jail and used his draining resources to buy Pennsylvania Railroad. Only afterward did he realize that he’d been steadily losing money every turn and hadn’t gained anything since the beginning of the game.

Contrast to Pinky, who rolled a twelve and skipped over the last fourth of the board, placing him squarely on the Go space and guaranteeing himself a free two hundred. Then he rolled a low number and bought Mediterranean.

A poor investment, given that it was hardly worth anything. But Pinky didn’t think so.

And he wouldn’t stop cooking up new fantasies either. “Now we can host a beach jubilee for your welcome home from jail party! With hot dogs and beach balls and those big umbrellas and-”

Brain lobbed the dice at Pinky so he’d quiet down and allow Brain to formulate a strategy in peace.

Perhaps a pass around the board without purchasing anything would be necessary. He had to rebuild his financial resources again. The downside was that Pinky could potentially take the spaces for himself, but it was entirely possible that he’d miss some of the open spaces too.

So he did just that, finally lucking out when a Community Chest card sent Pinky to Reading Railroad.

But Pinky was incapable of keeping his mouth shut, and soon he was back on the topic of the infamous Clarke divorces.

“-so I think Zoey is number eleven, and I know they all blend together, so when I confuse them I just remember divorce, beheaded, died, divorce, beheaded, survived!”

Brain stared at Pinky, praying to all the ancient Selenian gods nobody believed in anymore that Snowball didn’t have him take the identity of a murderer.

“Oh wait no, no...that’s King Henry, not Clarke. Must’ve mixed them up, poit. Sorry.”

Brain threw another green house at Pinky, nailing him in the shoulder. Pinky yelped, but once he realized he had another house he immediately thanked Brain because that meant Terry’s friend could move next door.

Since there was little point to dissuading Pinky entirely, Brain focused on his game strategy instead.

It was mostly repetition anyway. Roll dice, move piece, board event, repeat. Perhaps it would be considered tedious and monotonous, but the storylines Pinky improvised were what truly made it fascinating, even though Brain could only follow about half of it since Pinky created plotholes within the fantastical yet mundane place named Monopoly City faster than the speed of light.

According to Pinky, he and his sister co-ran an enormous pet supply shop attached to a humane animal shelter next door to the dog park. Meanwhile, Brain was conductor of a magical train and seeking the mayorship because the corrupt mayor was involved with an evil cigarette corporation who wanted to diabolically sell their products to innocent children.

And while Pinky certainly had a knack for improvisation, the matter at hand was that Brain couldn’t resist buying Boardwalk, but he’d used up a third of his money and Pinky wasn’t landing there to make up for the deficit. But Brain also had Baltic, the least valuable property, and Pinky had Park Place, which Brain desperately needed since neither of them had houses on the board yet.

This wasn’t going to be a fair trade for Pinky, but it was the best chance Brain had to etch out a victory. He was going for it.

“Park for Baltic so we can finally build some residences,” Brain said, sliding the card over to Pinky.

And to his surprise, Pinky jumped at the opportunity. “Sure, Brain! If you’ll trade me Oriental for Marvin Gardens. We’re gonna open a Chinatown district!”

He’d be giving Pinky control of the first quarter of the board, but the allure of the most expensive properties was far too tempting to pass up.

They swapped properties, then paused the game to set up their houses. Brain didn’t have enough money to buy houses for all his properties, so he set two houses on Boardwalk and hoped he could deal a staggering blow to Pinky’s finances. And even this decision was costly, for he only had $180 left.

Pinky set four houses on Baltic and clapped his hands together. “They’re beach houses,” he explained, and didn’t bother putting houses on the rest of his properties even though he could afford it.

Brain kept his mouth shut. Best not to give Pinky ideas. So he rolled the dice and got doubles.

Luxury Tax.

Scrik.

Now he was down to $105. But he’d pass Go on his next turn, so he could obtain an extra two hundred and hopefully skip this portion of the board.

Then he landed on Baltic.

He slowly looked at Pinky, and Brain couldn’t tell if Pinky was being perfectly innocent or just very, very good at pretending to be perfectly innocent. “That’ll be $320 please,” Pinky said.

Including the two hundred from passing Go, he’d only have a grand total of $305.

And according to the conditions he’d set, he’d lost the game through losing all his money.

“Can’t pay it,” Brain sighed. “Congratulations, Pinky. You’ve bested me.”

Pinky giggled and threw his play money in the air in celebration. “Aw, thanks for playing with me! I’ve never played Monopoly with anyone before. Never been able to get the board to Pharfignewton’s stable without the play money flying all over the street. It took me a long time to pick it all up. We should definitely do this again, Brain! Troz!”

But there wouldn’t be a next time. No matter how much he wanted to be victorious in another match against Pinky.

“Yes, we should,” Brain forced out, willing his racing heart to calm down so he wasn’t caught in his lie.

Pinky beamed, and Brain only wished it wasn’t so difficult to explain.

o-o-o-o-o

Terran Date 4.29.2015

Tonight, we shall seek appropriate outfits for the masquerade ball. I have been informed that my jumpsuit is not considered formal attire and that we will need to shop for proper clothing. However, I will be bringing my jumpsuit along since I will not return to the lab, and I require my conquering outfit to carry out our plans.

Pinky knows a place that may contain what we need. He’s spent the last two hours finishing his hat for the Kentucky Derby and has proudly shown off the finished product to me. Though I’ll admit that the result can only be considered a hat if one is generous with their definition.

I have not been able to contact Snowball. I can only assume he’s making the necessary preparations on his end.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

They stood in front of an enormous building with bright neon letters, impossible to miss even with his direction-challenged companion. Thankfully, it was only a few blocks from the lab. After the scientists strapped him to a machine that tested centrifugal force, he didn’t have the energy to walk much further.

“Welcome to Toyz ‘B’ We, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed, and Brain cringed at the horrendous grammar of that name. “It's the most wonderfulest toy shop ever!”

Wonderfulest wasn’t a word, but Brain was given no time to inform Pinky of that fact before Pinky dragged him to the entrance, where a large, cartoonish statue of a Terran bee stood off to the side, greeting customers with a cheerful wave of her magic wand.

“So that’s the mascot, Becky Bee,...let’s see, those are the shopping carts and the baskets and those machines that give you washable tattoos-”

“Focus on the clothing, Pinky. Not all the extraneous material,” Brain reminded him as they entered the store. Unlike their disastrous mall trip, Brain had brought along a source of money, an ACME credit card one of the scientists had carelessly left at their desk after purchasing a chair online.

They had a right to use the card as ACME employees who never got paid for their hard labor in experiments. And he promised Pinky he’d give it back once they were through purchasing the necessary items, so it didn’t catch on that pesky ‘no stealing’ radar.

Based on Pinky’s descriptions of the store, he expected an interior full of wonder, excitement, and interesting objects designed for enjoyment for young Terrans.

Instead, everything was a sterile white, yellow, or black. Rectangular kits of building blocks of all shapes and sizes sat neatly in a row, their price tags dusty as if they hadn’t been moved or cleaned in some time.

Dozens of bee models hung from the ceiling rafters, all of them sharing the exact same dead stare and pose. The whole setup was rather unnerving, and Brain averted his eyes.

He spotted two workers at the registers. They scrolled through their phones, not noticing Pinky’s cheerful greeting as he skipped past them. A third worker called out in alarm to them, and they suddenly dropped their phones and picked up rags, repetitively wiping their counters in circles in a poor attempt to appear busy.

The only one who acted like they were in a store meant for entertainment was Pinky, who oohed and ahhed and zigzagged all over the place to get a look at all the toys.

“Brain, look at this Barbie convertible! It’s so sparkly!” Pinky exclaimed before darting off to admire the box art on five-hundred piece jigsaw puzzles, then crawled onto the lowest shelf to hug a life-sized chihuahua plushie. “Narf! This one’s a cutie! And I also like the polka-dotted lizard, that green unicorn, and that rainbow koala looks really soft too-”

Brain grabbed Pinky’s tail, yanking him out of the shelf and onto the floor.

“This store’s already eroding whatever’s left of your mind,” Brain said, dragging Pinky away from the stuffed animals.

Pinky propped himself up on his elbows, humming as they passed aisle upon aisle of action figures, balls, and building blocks.

It was strange how they seemed to be the only customers here. Shouldn’t there be more snot-nosed brats running amok or haggard parents corralling them so they didn’t destroy everything with their grubby hands?

Still, perhaps he shouldn’t complain.

It was a relief that he didn’t have to worry about people trampling him underfoot for now.

But the peace didn’t last long, since Pinky suddenly peeled away in a completely different direction, forgetting that Brain was hanging onto his tail. Though he tried to dig his heels in, Pinky was too fast and the floor too slippery for Brain to bring them to a halt.

Then Pinky stopped on his own, and Brain only caught a glimpse of a metallic table leg before he crashed face-first into it, his nose smarting from the impact.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky said sheepishly, and there were five upside-down images of him. Brain swatted at the one in the middle, but his hand hit empty air instead. He shook his head to clear his vision, and all but the Pinky on the far left vanished.

Pinky didn’t stay put for long, darting past Brain. He hauled himself up the table leg and onto a light blue tablecloth. “You have to come up and see this, Brain!” Pinky squealed, peering over the edge of the table, his tail wagging beside him. “There’s an entire fence made of Legos here!”

Brain sighed, wondering if it was an exercise in futility to get Pinky to focus on the task at hand. “This is the last time I’ll repeat myself!” Brain shouted as he climbed up to retrieve Pinky. “We’re here for the clothes and-”

Though Brain only took fifteen seconds to ascend, Pinky managed to don a cropped, checkered top that showed off his slender stomach and a very short blue skirt in that short timeframe.

“Well, what do you think?” Pinky giggled and twirled in circles, the skirt flying in a graceful arc around his waist. “I could go square dancin’ in this, pardner! Yee-narf!”

Realizing he’d been staring at Pinky’s exposed stomach rather than making proper eye contact, Brain quickly turned away and pretended to find a row of small toy cars interesting. Next to the toy cars, there was a menagerie of small, plastic animals penned in by a colorful fence.

Part of a garden themed jigsaw puzzle served as a lawn under his feet, the pieces leading up to an enormous pink dollhouse.

Pinky took off the clothes he’d tried on, neatly threading a bent wire through the crop top and skirt and hanging them on a piece of string that served as a makeshift clothesline. There were five different clotheslines, each stocked to the brim with a variety of colorful articles.

Brain thumbed through the selection, though he didn’t feel an attachment to any of these pieces. While these clothes were designed for toys, most of them were still too big for him.

Finding something that would fit would be more difficult than he realized.

There was a large empty space past all the clotheslines, but it seemed it would be filled in soon enough. The display had all the signs of being a work in progress, and Brain couldn’t help but wonder who had the patience to put all this together. Certainly not the bored workers at the registers.

It was a welcome splash of creativity from the rest of the dull store.

“Poit. This is exactly how I imagined my dream home to be,” Pinky said in awe. He walked up to the front door and popped it open, revealing a spacious interior. Brain followed Pinky inside and they explored the first floor together, which contained a kitchen, living room, and a playroom.

“I really like the coloring on those kitchen cabinets, and the fireplace is a great touch! Very retro. And the kiddies will have a grand ol’ time in the playroom,” Pinky said as they climbed the staircase to the second floor and walked through two bedrooms and a bathroom.

“Marble countertops would make the kitchen and bathroom more refined,” Brain argued. Really, did Pinky want any visitors to think uncivilized brutes owned the house? “But the fireplace is a welcome touch.”

Pinky shrugged as they entered the master bedroom. “It’s fine as is. Now if the backyard was bigger with a dolphin-shaped swimming pool, that would be really, really amazing!”

And Brain preferred marble countertops, but since he wouldn’t be getting everything he wanted, neither would Pinky.

Brain sat on the large bed that took up half the room, the fluffy covers soft and welcoming. But they were on a mission, and future world rulers didn’t roll around on beds in an undignified manner, no matter how tempting it was.

Pinky threw open the closet doors, revealing more clothing inside. “Oh, these pajamas are lovely!” he said, pressing a yellow nightgown close to his body.

“Anything that would suit our purposes?” Brain asked. In hindsight, doing some research into what people wore for masquerade balls would’ve been helpful. He didn’t know why it slipped his mind. Perhaps Pinky’s scatterbrained traits were contagious.

“Hmmm, it’s all pajamas and casual wear,” Pinky said, flicking through the different articles. He closed the doors and reopened them, as if the formal wear would magically appear if they were out of sight. “No suits for you or the porpoises, Brain.” And he’d been so hopeful too.

“Maybe we can find something in the aisles,” Pinky said.

A sensible suggestion, for once.

Brain tried not to appear reluctant to leave the bed, but necessity demanded it. As he stood up, the fur on his neck pricked, his ears twitching towards the large window in the bedroom.

An odd sense that he was being watched came over him, and when he turned to look at the window, he saw a Terran’s eye peering into the balcony.

They stared at each other.

Then the eye blinked.

And Brain was suddenly very, very glad Snowball wasn’t here to bear witness, or he’d never hear the end of how he’d leapt onto Pinky’s back in his moment of panic.

Pinky yelped, and so did the Terran outside the window. There were several loud thuds, followed by a frantic apology.

Brain released Pinky, rubbing his face to get rid of the blush as he ran down the staircase and out the front door.

“S-sorry!” a young woman stammered as she bent down to pick up several packages of toys, only to lose her large glasses on the floor in the process. She wore the standard uniform of the store. “I didn’t think anyone would be inside! I thought one of the furniture pieces fell over, that’s all!”

Pinky hopped down from the table, picking up the woman’s glasses and pressing them into her hand. “It’s okay!” he chirped. “You scared us good, but now we can laugh about it! Oh, your name tag says Sharon! What a lovely name! I’m Pinky, that chubby alien up there is Brain, and we’re going to a party this weekend where we’ll raise awareness for the plight of frosted animal crackers!”

“That’s not the event’s objective,” Brain corrected, and he had no choice but to let Pinky come to his own conclusions. Stealing the secret weapon on Lamont property would remain classified information as promised. “And if you call me chubby again, I shall have to hurt you.”

Sharon took her glasses from Pinky with a tentative smile, then let him climb up her arm and onto her shoulder. “Zort! You have very good taste in Polly Pocket dolls!” Pinky said, peering down at the packages in her hands. “Do you collect?”

Sharon blushed. “I, um, have a lot of Beanie Babies at home. I’m not really interested in Polly Pockets, but they’d fit much better in this display than a standard Barbie.” She glanced at Brain. “I’m sorry, could you please move? I’m putting a few things in that area.”

Brain moved out of the way as Sharon carefully opened the packages. Then she placed several small tables and chairs in the empty space next to the clotheslines, bending the dolls’ legs into sitting positions and placing them on the chairs. She worked slowly and diligently, taking great caution to not knock anything over or break the items.

“Did you make all this?” Pinky asked. “It’s amazing!”

“Y-yeah, I did. The display, I mean. Not the toys.” Sharon didn’t look at Pinky as she straightened one of the Lego fences. “Store’s been on the decline, and because there’s not really much to do, I’m trying to create a few displays to generate some interest. The toys in this one were supposed to be thrown away since nobody’s buying them, even on clearance, but it just seemed so wasteful.”

She was resourceful. It was a valuable trait, but she seemed more embarrassed than anything.

“Take pride, Sharon. It’s an excellent use of parts,” Brain advised.

Pinky nodded eagerly. “And you’re saving the toys from the evil furnace! I’m sure they’re very grateful to you when you’re not looking!”

“You...you really like it?” Sharon lifted her glasses and wiped a tear from her eye. “Nobody’s ever really noticed my efforts around here.”

“Well, they should!” Pinky declared. “I’ll tell them so myself!”

Sharon smiled as Pinky hugged her face, then rejoined Brain on the table. “Thanks, but I don’t think you came to this store just to invade a toy home.”

“No, we didn’t,” Brain said, seeing his opportunity and seizing it. “We require formal clothes for a masquerade ball, and unfortunately, we haven’t seen anything of interest yet.”

“There’s plenty of interesting things in here, Brain,” Pinky said. “Like the busybody bees up on the ceiling!”

Apparently they had two very different definitions of interesting.

“Well, I can bring out some items from the back,” Sharon offered. “We had to pull the entire line of formal Zuma Ben accessories last week. Some parents found the outfits a little scandalous for their kids, so now the accessories are just going in the trash. But maybe you’ll find something to wear from the pile. Be right back, guys!” She walked away, her steps growing slightly more confident.

“Real Zuma Ben accessories?” Pinky clasped his hands to his cheek. “I’ve never worn anything like that before!”

“It’s just a name,” Brain said. He didn’t see why Pinky was treating Zuma Ben’s name like a sacred object. “As long as we’re dressed to impress, the name doesn’t matter.”

“I just think they’re pretty,” Pinky replied. “And I like looking at them, even if I can’t buy anything. Still, I’m really happy with the clothes I have now.”

But Pinky had a sizable wardrobe. Those clothes had to come from somewhere.

“So how did you obtain your clothes if you never bought them?” Brain asked.

Pinky smiled. “The scientists. They’ll drop clothes into my cage, which is really nice of them! One time, I put on this pretty sundress they gave me and I started itching really bad. I was jumping around like a tiny monkey and I managed to make them all laugh! I must’ve been quite the sight!”

Pinky laughed at the memory, but Brain was more disturbed at how the blatant act of humiliation didn’t affect him in the slightest. Then the laugh faltered and restarted at a higher pitch.

No, that initial assessment was wrong. True, Pinky could withstand many things, but not even the most resilient being could tolerate the sound of mockery for long.

Should he say something? Was an ‘I’m sorry’ sufficient? Was there any act of comfort that didn’t involve unnecessary physical contact?

Brain wanted to be decisive, but dozens of scenarios played out in his head, and none of them led to a satisfactory outcome. Tell Pinky to cease his laughter, embrace him, talk about the weather. He didn’t know.

Emotions led to nothing but trouble.

“Quit staring,” Brain snapped when Pinky wouldn’t stop watching him like he wanted something.

Pinky’s ears fell, but Sharon came back before the pang of guilt could fully settle in Brain’s stomach.

“Thanks for waiting, guys,” Sharon said as she dumped the accessory packages onto the table. “See anything you like?”

“All of them!” Pinky declared, happily tossing a three-pack of formal dresses into the air. He tried tearing it open, but the packaging wouldn’t give. Sharon helpfully tore it open for him, and Pinky made a happy, grateful sound before pulling a sparkly purple dress over his body. He twirled around. “So how do I look?”

“Lovely,” Sharon giggled as she pulled out her phone. She set it against the Lego fence, allowing Pinky to see himself in the camera app.

“I’ll put this as a maybe,” Pinky said. “But I have to give all the dresses a chance too!”

He tried four other dresses on in quick succession, and all of them went into the maybe pile.

Meanwhile, Brain searched through his choices of men’s formal wear. He wanted the best possible option for successful infiltration, but he didn’t know much about Terran fashion. His nose wrinkled at a powdered blue suit with far too many ruffles. He was fairly certain that wouldn’t garner respect on any planet, so he pushed the offending pack away from his other options.

The pure white suit would get stained too easily. He needed something darker. That one was out.

“Hey Brain, what about this one?” Pinky asked. He now wore a long sleeved lime green dress, which Brain found extremely tacky and unappealing to the eyes. Not even Pinky could salvage that monstrosity. Yet in Pinky’s hands, there was a black suit with a white shirt underneath. Not extravagant by any means, but since the coloration was similar to his conquering attire, it was the most probable choice by far.

But while Pinky was comfortable with changing in front of others, Brain wasn’t so keen on the idea.

“I require privacy,” Brain said. He took the suit from Pinky and went inside the house, shutting the door behind him and ensuring the shutters were closed.

Then he removed his gloves and jumpsuit, shivering from the cold air as he laid the items over a chair. He put on the new set of pants first, then the white collared shirt, and finally buttoned the jacket over his abdomen.

Well, it was comfortable. And it hid most of his stomach too, which was also a positive. But he needed to see how it looked in the light before making a judgment call, so he rejoined Pinky and Sharon, who were playing with different filters on her phone while Pinky wore a magnificent feathery pink dress.

“Now you really look like a flamingo,” Sharon laughed as Pinky changed the filter to sepia, the image now different shades of tan. Pinky blew a kiss to the camera. “This one’s my favorite so far,” Pinky declared with a graceful curtsey.

And the sleeveless feathery dress did seem to match his personality much better than all the other dresses. Flamboyant and quirky, but inviting and friendly as well. A darker pink feather boa was draped over his shoulders, and purple feathers fanned out from the back of his neck. A light green choker was wrapped around his neck. Then Pinky added a matching headband with a light pink tuft to complete the ensemble.

“That will certainly make an excellent first impression on the partygoers,” Brain said.

Pinky changed the phone filter back to normal with one hand, playing with the feather boa in his other. “Egad, you really think so?” he exclaimed. “Hold on a sec, Brain. Where’s the rest of your outfit?”

“Rest of?” Brain echoed. “This doesn’t require anything else.”

Pinky shook his head and dug a red bow and matching sash out of the clothes pile. “You need a few splashes of color, Brain! Or you’ll just end up a sad wilty wallflower!”

“They’d really match your circles,” Sharon added.

Well, he’d always looked good in red. It was a bold, attention-grabbing color.

Brain draped the sash over his shoulder and fastened the bow around his ear, checking himself over in Sharon’s phone. Then Pinky and Sharon started giggling for some odd reason.

“What?” Brain asked. He was presentable at a formal event now, wasn’t he?

“You’re kinda wearing it wrong,” Sharon admitted.

His ears flattened from embarrassment. Selenians typically wore practical jumpsuits with minimal accessories, and none of their databanks ever mentioned Terran outfits. They must’ve found it unimportant.

“Don’t worry, Brain. It’s an easy fix! May I?” Pinky exclaimed.

Brain nodded his permission, and Pinky removed the bow from Brain’s ear and carefully fastened it underneath his collar, taking great care to not pull the bow too tightly around his neck.

“So this isn’t a sash. It’s a cummerbund and you wear it around your stomach,” Pinky explained as he demonstrated the proper way to wear it. It was relieving to know Terrans made accessories that would hide the slight bulge, and Brain donned the cummerbund correctly.

The accessories really did match his orbs. For the first time, he was dressed to the nines and it was a glorious feeling indeed.

“Aw, you’re both so spiffy!” Sharon exclaimed. “Mind if I put a photo of this on the Twitter page to boost some interest?”

“We’ll return the favor,” Brain said. She deserved some reward for helping them out anyway.

Sharon turned her phone around, ready to snap the picture when Pinky suddenly darted out of frame. “Hold on! Narf!” he cried, shoving a small blue butterfly-themed mask into Brain’s hands and flipping a pink feathery mask over his face. “It’s a masquerade ball, you know!”

While Brain’s mask only covered the area around his eyes, Pinky’s face was mostly hidden by his birdlike mask, leaving only his bright blue eyes exposed.

“Doesn’t that tickle?” Brain inquired as Pinky stretched his boa out for a picture.

Pinky shrugged. “A little. But I don’t mind!”

“Smile for the camera, you guys!” Sharon grinned.

Brain didn’t smile, but he stood in front of the toy house while Sharon snapped pictures and Pinky struck a different pose with every shot.

Pinky’s laughter rang joyously in Brain’s ears.

He would leave that sound behind in just a few days. But it was a small price to pay for the world.

End AN: Maybe this chapter is a little disjointed, but oh well. Sharon is based off the toy store worker who helps the mice in Brain’s Night Off.

I tried to do the math for the Monopoly game and even pulled out my Monopoly property cards so I could get the amounts correct, but if anything is inaccurate I am hereby excused from responsibility because I am a writer and not a mathematician. Yes i use that excuse every time but it’s true.

Brain's outfit comes from the tuxedo he wore in the reboot's Future Brain episode. Pluto designed Pinky's outfit herself (somehow we both were thinking lots of pink feathers for Pinky) and deserves all the credit for it cause it's so beautiful. I chose a butterfly mask for Brain and a flamingo theme for Pinky.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #patb nova

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masterjedilenawrites · 4 years ago

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The Sniper and The Medic: Chapter 2

Starring: Crosshair, Original Character “Joan Vo,” probably the rest of the Bad Batch at some point

Summary: Crosshair doesn't exactly like medical personnel. In fact, he hates them. They're always poking and prodding, calling him skinny, telling him he's not good enough. But then he meets the new medical examiner, the smart and kind and oh-so-pretty Joan Vo. And suddenly, he's not only looking forward to his medical check-ups, but he's also starting to question whether he wants to go to war after all....

Rating & Warnings: T/PG-13. Eventual fluff. Light angst. Who knows what else will pop up, but I’ll leave warnings when needed.

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be tagged for this fic.

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

Chapter 2: Doctor’s Orders

She wasn't the first human girl he'd ever seen.

But she sure was the prettiest.

There'd been some contractors and other hired help on the planet, especially in recent years as the demand on the warfront left few bodies to fill the more ancillary tasks. A few had been female. Each time one came in, there was endless chatter among the clones about them. Crosshair had never understood the fascination, nor had his brother Tech. They often wondered if that was just another one of their defects.

Now he got it.

She didn't wear the traditional medical garb, or even the sterile robes the Kaminoans usually gave visitors. Instead, she was in what looked like the clone's standard issue under-armor, "blacks." Slightly different material and stitching, but same concept. It stretched around her figure, highlighting both her obvious female-ness as well as some muscles. Her pinkish-blonde hair was pulled back from her face, which was young, but also weathered. She wasn't another posh politician or edgy mercenary. She was something else entirely.

But her arrival did nothing to help his nerves; in fact, he felt even worse now. This pretty girl would be the one inspecting him. Frowning at all his subpar test results. Reprimanding him for not eating or exercising enough. Judging him.

He watched her with wary eyes as she entered and gave him a small but endearing smile.

"Good morning," she said, her voice a bit raspy, but calm. Soft. "I'm Joan."

She looked at him expectantly. He knew he should give his official designation, but he decided to say the name he'd given himself, in a rebellious attempt to show himself as human.

"Crosshair."

She held her smile, unperturbed by his lack of protocol. In fact, she seemed pleased by it.

"Crosshair," Joan repeated, sending a shiver through him. She had been holding a datapad, undoubtedly containing all the sad details of his medical history. He braced himself for the uncomfortable silence that would happen as she flicked through it. But instead she placed it on a table along the back wall and rolled out a chair to face him.

"Well, Crosshair, tell me about yourself."

He blinked a few times. "Um," he nodded to the back table. "My file should have everything about me."

"Everything?" she asked with an amused smirk. "Like your favorite color? What you think about before falling asleep?"

Her eyes narrowed at him, a challenge, but a playful one. He had no clue how to respond.

Before he could come up with something to say, her face relaxed and she pushed her chair back as she stood, returning to the back table. She grabbed a pad of paper and an exam scope. The datapad remained neglected.

"Crosshair..." she said his name again, causing him to fight to control another pleasant fluttering in his chest. "Does that mean you're really into guns?"

She came in front of him again, resting the primitive writing materials on the table beside his leg as she fiddled with the settings on the scope.

"I'm a sharpshooter," he said. That was something he had an answer for.

"Sharpshooter." She quickly scribbled the word down on the paper. "There's something about you. What else?"

He was silent again, back to being utterly confused. Why didn't she just look in his chart? Was this some sort of test?

A pale light came on the scope and she brought it up to his right eye. She didn't let him sit in confusion for long. "Have you thought about getting a tattoo yet? You could do something really cool with a reticule, or a target. Maybe a bullet?"

She moved the scope across his other eye. He tried to stay still for her, even though he really wanted to furrow his eyebrows at the random change in topic.

"I... haven't thought about it," he muttered.

She set the scope down and held up the pen, holding it slightly behind his head.

"Look straight ahead, let me know when you see it," she said, bringing it slowly forward. He grunted as soon as the pen entered his periphery; he couldn't say anything as Joan was already talking again.

"What do you think is the furthest distance you could make a shot from?" The pen was moved to the other side and the exercise repeated, though she didn't seem too interested in it. "Like an accurate one. A bullseye, dead on."

She sounded like the young clones they'd sometimes bring around to the training rooms on field trips. Wide eyes, reverent voices, in awe of the cadets they'd one day become themselves.

Crosshair allowed himself to frown as he answered her, quite frankly, silly question. "It's not just a matter of my ability, but the capacity of the rifle and range of the blast, as well as a whole list of environmental factors."

Joan brought the scope up to one of his ears, now, peering through it. He could feel her breath against his neck as she spoke. "Okay, so you have the best long-distance rifle in the entire galaxy. Perfect wind and lighting conditions. Nothing else in your way. How far?"

He thought about for a few seconds, and then confidently stated, "Thirty-five hundred meters. Easy."

She was looking in his other ear, but he could still see her smiling, impressed, out of the corner of his eye. It made his cheeks feel warm.

"What would be a hard shot to make, then?" she asked, coming back around to face him. She motioned to hold his hands out in front of him. As he thought about the new question, she instructed him to fold his thumbs inward and then curl his other fingers into a fist. Her own hands wrapped gently over his; they were cold but soft, and he almost lost track of his thoughts as he watched her guide his wrists to bend up and down.

"Any pain?" she asked, bringing him back. He shook his head.

"Well..." he said thoughtfully, "I suppose it'd have to be shooting blind. You can still get a lay of the land, use your other senses to aim. But if you can't see what you're shooting at...."

Joan hummed in acknowledgement, moving his palms to face upward, and tapping along his wrists. "Any pain?" And he shook his head again.

"I knew a sniper once," she said in a lower voice. "You know what he said were the hardest shots he ever had to make?"

She moved his hands into another formation, where his knuckles touched each other in the middle of his chest with elbows sticking out. He shook his head, answering both questions, the one she'd just asked, and the one he expected would come with this test.

"He said it's the ones you don't want to make." Her light-heartedness was gone and her face now looked old and tired. "He didn't explain further, but I knew he'd been on the Umbara mission."

Crosshair didn't need her to explain further, either. They'd been told about Umbara.

"I would've known," he couldn't help but say. It had been the first thing he thought of when they were debriefed on the tragic mission. He hadn't told anyone, knowing it wouldn't be taken well, but he still believed it. There was no way he wouldn't have been able to tell it was his brothers at the other end of his gun.

She regarded him with a cocked head, and for a moment, the judgement he'd feared receiving in this room flashed across her features. But then it was gone, and her usual squinted eyes and quirked lips fell back into place.

"And what if you hadn't?"

"I would have. I know I would have."

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant. You have to think about the what-if sometimes. Even if they're far-fetched. Just to know what your response would be. Hope for the best, and prepare for the worst."

He didn't know what to say to that.

But Joan didn't wait for him to respond, either. She picked up the pad of paper, which he just now noticed had a lot more scribbles on it. He hadn't realized she'd been taking notes the whole time.

She handed the pad to him.

"Your homework. Write down some things about yourself for next time, okay?"

She took a step back, as if to make room for him to get up and leave.

He frowned at her. "That's it?"

She smiled at him. "For today. I think you're next on the schedule for Thursday. Same time."

He looked between the paper and her. She laughed a little.

"Try starting with your favorite color," she said with a wink, and then turned to clean up the remaining things.

He slowly got off the bed and shuffled out into the hallway, holding the pad of paper like it was a strange object he'd never seen before. He wasn't really reading any of the things she'd put on there, just staring at it to give himself something to focus on. That visit was, by far, the most bizarre medical check-up of his life.

And it was the first that he didn't want to leave.

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #crosshair #crosshair x OC #eventual fluff #angst #crosshair needs a hug #medical things #soldier things #more tags to follow

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the-shadow-of-atlantis · 4 years ago

Text

All The Stars (Part 5)

Summary: Nova is trying to get use to Hogwarts

Tagging: @melyaliz @coffee-randomness @thespacebuns

Read Earlier Parts Here

Nova's first week at Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. On her first day Nova got to meet Adelines brother, Henry, who was starting his first year at Hogwarts. Nova herself never had any siblings so it was fun seeing them interact.

Henry was a giant ball of energy, curious of everything and ready for his first day. Adeline was a quiet thing, she seemed a bit nervous and always tried to keep a close eye on her brother. They always dropped him off at his classes first before they took off to their own. Nova couldn't help but notice though that Adelina seemed to take paths that were almost empty, and that Pam seemed to follow them from a distance. Curiousity got the better of Nova and after two days she decided to ask.

"Adeline would you mind showing me where the library is?" Nova asked as she grabbed one of her notebooks.

They hadn't really been assigned anything yet that required a trip to the library but Nova was itching to explore the castle. But she needed to test the waters first. Adeline seemed to share a glance with Pam from a distance but still she got up and joined Nova.

"Of course." She said as they made their way out.

Nova began drawing in her notebook as they walked slowly looking up so see what details she could scribble down for later.

"What are you drawing?" Adelina asked, trying to make sense of all the lines in the notebook.

"I'm trying to get a better layout of the castle. I hear Hogwarts is full of secrets and I want to try to find as many as I can." Nova said never looking up from her book.

"You're going to want to watch out for Filch then." Adeline said, shuddering. "He's mean and Mrs. Norris is unlike any cat I've ever seen."

Nova nodded she had heard about that pair and was waiting for her surprise to come in to see if she could get around them. Just then Nova frowned as she looked at her notes carefully, now was the time to ask.

"Adeline is there a reason you tend to take the passages least used?"

Adelina seemed stunned but she quickly shook her head and continued on her way.

"It's faster to get to certain places." Adeline casually said though Nova stared at her in disbelief.

"Even when there's hardly anyone roaming the halls after school hours?" Nova pressed.

Adeline seemed to contemplate her next words. Every now and again she would glance behind them. Finally she stopped and sat down near a statue. Nova decided to sit down on the floor, her legs crossed and her notebook closed so she could focus more on Adeline.

"I'm guessing that even though you grew up in the muggle world your father still taught you about the wizarding world." Adeline scoffed at her own comment. "Of course he did, you were homeschooled right."

Nova waited as Adeline took a deep breath.

"I didn't know anything about magic until they came to my house and delivered my letter. Suddenly all the weird things that would happen around my brother and I made sense. Suddenly I was in a world that wouldn't look at me as if I was a freak…" Adeline paused, her eyes focused on the ground.

"I was excited when I came to Hogwarts. The ministry person did a fantastic job on focusing on all the good things about this world, they failed to mention the bad. It wasn't till I got sorted into Slytherin and started my classes that I found out. All the other classes hate Slytherin because it's the house that produces the most dark wizards. Many Slytherins apparently joined Voldemort during the first war. So anyone who wasn't a slytherin avoided me or called me names. But then some of the slytherins specifically the pureblood slytherins started calling me a mudblood."

Nova's hand clenched at the word and tried her best to stay calm.

"So everyone either hates me for being a slytherin or for being a muggle. The bullying got so bad I decided to avoid people as much as possible. Pam figured it out however, she's tougher than I am. She fights back but she decided to put her focus on protecting me instead. Any other muggle born slytherins tend to stay to themselves not knowing who to trust."

Nova nodded taking in what she just learned. She herself had noticed that certain people tended to avoid her in the two days she had been here, particularly a certain hufflepuff.

"Is that why Pam is following us right now?" Nova asked a loud thud rang out in the hall and Pam peaked out rubbing her head.

"How did you know I was here?" She demanded.

"Like Adeline said, you follow her everywhere. It wasn't that hard to guess. How's your head?"

"Fine." Pam grumbled as she approached the two girls.

"I never understood the rivalry of the houses." Nova admitted. "Especially the hostility towards Slytherin. My father was a slytherin and he fought with the order, left his family too. You should be proud to be a slytherin and a muggle. Honestly purebloods should be the ones looked down on, I don't see what's so special about being inbreds."

Adeline let out a horrified gasp but Pam snickered and nodded her head in approval.

"Okay you seem good." Pam said through snickers.

Nova smiled at her new friends and together they began navigating the castle with Nova and Pam keeping an eye out for anyone who would dare mess with them. They also attempted to get close to any other muggle borns, but as Adeline had pointed out many had trust issues. Still Nova always made it clear was there for anyone though it seemed like it was just going to be her and the two girls.

Trying to get her professors to let her use muggle supplies ended up less of a hassle than she thought it would be. Professor Magonagall had been a little hesitant at first however she did like how Nova tended to color code her charts. But other than that almost every other teacher didn’t seem to mind and soon Nova noticed other muggle students using their own muggle supplies. However one teacher that seemed to keep putting up the most resistance was Professor Snape.

“I thought I said to take out parchment and quills not whatever this is.” Snape said looking over Novas supplies.

“Its the same principle.” Nova said showing him the tip of her fountain pen. She knew this one was going to be a tough one she had asked around about all the teachers.

Snape was also her head of house though she hardly ever saw him, he was rumored to always favor their house. Currently that didn't seem to be the case.

“The supply list calls for parchment and quills.” Snape said as if making this final.

“The notebook is a form of parchment and I am still using the correct ink in my pen.” Nova countered, a pair of red headed twins that were sitting across from her looked at them in amusement.

“Miss Vinci while you are in this class I suggest you follow all the rules and that applies to the adequate supplies for this school.” Snape said sternly.

Nova glared at Snape as she pulled out her wand, his eyes raised in disbelief but instead she tapped her pen and muttered a spell making the pen turn into a quill.

“Better?” Nova asked, finally Pam and the twins burst into laughter.

“5 points from Gryffindor.” Snape said through clenched teeth, making Nova look at him with wide eyes.

“You can't do that.” She protested, if anything he should be taking points away from their house.

“10 points then.” Snape hissed, oh so that’s how this was going to be, fine.

Nova stayed quiet as she tried to focus on her work. They had started working on a potion and Nova decided it was best to wear her safety gear. She slipped on her gloves and snapped her goggles into place. She knew people were staring at her but still she pressed on adding to her potion as instructed.

“What is all this?” Snape asked completely unamused by what she was wearing.

“Its called safety gear.” Nova said looking over her cauldron to make sure it was turning the right shade.

“And why are you wearing it?”

“The name clearly states its purpose.” Nova said looking up at him.

“Did I ask you to put anything on?” Snape asked and Nova could tell she was definitely testing his patience.

“Given the type of potion you are making us do I’m surprised you didn't.” Nova continued.

“Are you that far behind from being homeschooled that you fear your well being from your own work.” Snape remarked, oh so this is how he was going to be.

“On the contrary.” Nova said her eyes narrowing. “I know what to do, still accidents can happen. If anything I just doubt your healing abilities and though I can be taken to the hospital wing I would like to avoid excruciating pain in my eyes and hands.”

Snapes nostrils flared and again Pam and the twins snickered while Adeline stared at her horrified.

“Detention Weasley.” Snape snapped, making Nova's jaw drop.

She wanted to protest but she knew it was futile, she’d figure out a way around all this.

“Hey Vinci right?” One of the twins asked as they caught up to her.

“Yes?” Nova asked, noticing Pam tense, she put a hand on her arm to calm her.

“We were wondering.” The other continued.

“Our father he loves all this muggle stuff you think you could give us some things to send to him?” The first said, Nova tried to remember where she had heard the name Weasley before.

“Your father works for the ministry right?” Nova asked as she remembered her father speak of an Arthur Weasley would he be their father.

“Yes.” They both said, making Nova nod.

“I could tell my father to give him some of my old things. He works for the ministry too, and would probably be faster.” Nova said smiling politely at the two boys.

“Sounds great, Fred and George Weasley by the way.” Fred said, holding his hand out.

“Fred and George got it.” Nova said looking between the two as she shook his hand. “Sorry about the dentition.”

“Eh dont worry about it.” George said.

“Hasn’t been the first time.”

“Definitely won't be the last.”

“Still its not fair he’s just a bitter old git.” Nova mumbled. “He cant get away with it.”

“Sounds like you have an idea brewing.” George said smiling.

“Possibly.” Nova smiled back. “I’ll definitely let you know what I come up with.”

The twins were a fun lot, Nova began to notice them more when she would roam the halls with Pam and Adeline. Helping keep an eye out for each other whenever Filch was close. The twins were impressed that Nova was able to evade Mrs. Norris so easily until they realized she just dropped off cat treats in order to keep her busy. Nova gave them half of her supply after that.

However as the week continued and they began entering their weekend Nova kept noticing that a certain Hufflepuff was still ignoring her. The Slytherins shared a couple classes with the Hufflepuffs yet Cedric always seemed to sit as far away from her as possible. In the end the only other friend the girls had managed to make besides the Weasleys was Jaime, the Hufflepuff girl that rode in the train with Nova on her way to Hogwarts. Jaime a Hufflepuff through and through never spoke as to why Cedric avoided her so much but Nova had a pretty good idea.

She was finally able to confront him during the weekend. Adeline had insisted Pam needed to work on her homework since apparently Pam had a track record of always holding off till the last second to do her work. Nova had been caught up and figured it be easier to explore the castle if she was alone, as much as she enjoyed the two girls company she needed some time to herself.

Nova's map of the castle was far from complete and she took her time going down the halls as she sketched into her notebook. She looked up to double check where she was going when she saw him. He froze as he saw her and he seemed to be contemplating which way he should take off. Nova however shut her notebook shut rather harshly and approached him quickly.

"Cedric." She said fiercely as she stopped in front of him. "Is there a reason you are avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you." He said though his expression said differently.

"Oh really?" Nova narrowed her eyes at him. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and finally broke.

“You’re a slytherin.” He said simply

“And you're a Hufflepuff so what?” Nova asked, crossing her arms.

“Do you have any idea how many dark wizards have come from slytherin house?” Cedric asked as if that would clear everything up.

“And what about the slytherins that aren’t dark wizards?” Nova countered. “What about the Slytherins that are muggle borns? The slytherins that grew up knowing noting about the Wizarding world until they came here? The slytherins that were suddenly turned down by those who were suppose to be accepting of them? And what about the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and Gryffindors who maybe weren’t as bad as death eaters but are still not good? I doubt all of you are saints too. And for the record your house doesn’t matter in the real world, you really think your job applications will ask what house you attended in Hogwarts? I really doubt my NASA one will.”

“You’re what?” Cedric suddenly asked, very confused cause he was sure he had never heard of that department before.

“National Aeronautics and Space Administration, it's the American muggle space program but that’s beside the point. The point is slytherin isn’t a bad house and not everyone is automatically a death eater or evil, hell not all of us are even bloody pure bloods. I thought Hufflepuff would be more accepting, guess that means you aren’t what your house says you are.” Nova huffed and turned away however she didn't feel as good as she though she would have after having that conversation.

“You know the more you stare at food the longer its going to stay there.” Pam said, breaking through Novas thoughts.

“Guess I’m not that hungry.” Nova grumbled still having been in a bad mood when she woke up the next day.

She had told the girls what had happened and though they had been a nice comfort Nova couldn’t here’ll but be a little homesick. Maybe she could ask her mother to send some cookies. She felt Pam stiffen beside her and looked up to see Cedric standing next to her.

“I figured maybe we need a restart. Hi I’m Cedric.” He said smiling softly at her and holding his hand out.

“I’m Nova.” She said, hesitantly shaking his hand. “These are my friend Pam and Adeline.”

Cedric smiled a little brighter and Nova felt her resolve slowly melt away, curse this Hufflepuff.

#harry potter oc #oc x cedric #oc x cedric diggory #slytherin oc

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vexedtonightmares · 6 years ago

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La Fin Des Temps - Chapter 1

Mercredi 12:47

Started writing an elu Hogwarts au because I couldn’t help myself 😶 hope you like it 🦁🦅

(This will be cross posted on ao3 when I have time ❤️❤️)

Normally Lucas paid attention during potions, as it was his favorite class, but that day he kept getting distracted by a new student in the class. They were in sixth year, taking NEWT level classes, surely there shouldn’t be new students? Yet there he was, edges of his robes trimmed in blue, indicating that he was a Ravenclaw.

In years past he’d only ever had potions with his fellow Gryffindors and the Slytherins, but he’d had other classes with Ravenclaws and surely would have noticed this boy before then. He was half convinced the new kid was a figment of his imagination when Imane, his partner, nudged his side.

“Lucas? You in there? Come on, we need to focus. If you make us get anything less than full marks, I will hex you into next year. Got it?” Imane was intense sometimes, but she was the best potions partner he’d had. Yann, his best friend and fellow Gryffindor, had opted out of potions this year, as he wouldn’t need them for whatever career he was hoping to pursue after school. Yann was great at most everything, but the two of them somehow always managed to make a mess of their potions assignments.

“Yeah, sorry,” he apologized, looking down at his book for the instructions on what to do next. They were working on concocting the Draught of Living Death, an insanely complex potion. He didn’t think they should have been doing something so difficult after only a month of NEWT level classes. Thankfully for him, Imane had executed the potion so far to near perfection.

He risked another glance towards the mysterious boy as he went to add another ingredient, spilling it all when he realized the boy was looking back at him.

“Lucas! Fuck!” Imane hissed, clearing away the mess with a flick of her wand. They had only barely begun to work on nonverbal spells and yet it seemed Imane had mastered those as well.

“I’m sorry,” he tried, but she just waved a hand in his face.

“I’ll finish on my own. I don’t know where your head is at today, but you owe me,” she sighed. He smiled softly. As much as Imane complained, he could tell she enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed hers.

The rest of the period flew by too fast, especially since Lucas had done nothing but sneak stares at the new boy for the last part of the lesson. As soon as the professor cleared them to leave, Lucas caught up with one of his other good friends, Arthur, who had been paired with Imane’s friend Alexia during the class.

“How’d your potion turn out? Ours was shit. Might’ve turned out ok if Alexia hadn’t been ogling that new kid the whole time,” Arthur said, falling into step beside Lucas.

“You don’t know who he is either?” Lucas asked, confused. Arthur was a Ravenclaw as well, so it seemed fitting that he would know who he was.

Arthur shook his head. “I’ve never seen him before today. All I know is that I have a new roommate. Moved in his things this morning, but left before I had a chance to introduce myself.”

None of that made sense. How could there be a new sixth year student? He was pretty sure Hogwarts was very thorough in their admissions, so there was no way they could have forgotten about this boy for over five years. He mulled over these thoughts while Arthur continued to ramble on about his and Alexia’s failed potion on their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

They met Yann at the entryway and Arthur left them with a mock salute to take a seat at the Ravenclaw table. “This is where we part. See you in Transfiguration.”

Yann and Lucas sat beside one another on the bench at the Gryffindor table, the former digging into his food immediately. “Dude,” Lucas laughed, “Take it easy.”

Yann shrugged, mouth full of food, “I have to leave lunch early, got that essay to finish for Muggle Studies.”

“I still can’t believe that, of all classes to take at a NEWT level, you chose Muggle Studies,” Lucas said incredulously. Yann scoffed, “What do you have against muggles?”

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just one of the most boring subjects, right up there with History of Magic,” Lucas explained.

“Maybe you just don’t have good taste.” Another voice joined them and Lucas turned his head to see Manon, his adoptive sister, sliding into the seat beside him. “I find History of Magic and Muggle Studies very fascinating.”

“Thank you,” Yann emphasized, raising his eyebrows at Lucas. “All right, I’m off, meet you, Basile, and Arthur before Transfiguration, yeah?”

Lucas nodded as Yann slipped away, robes trailing behind him as he booked it up the steps and out of sight. Manon leaned in to whisper to him as soon as Yann was gone. “Have you heard about the new kid?”

“Yeah, he’s in my potions class,” Lucas said, “Why, do you know anything about him?”

Manon shook her head. “Not really. Emma heard from someone that he transferred here from Beauxbatons.”

That made sense, Lucas thought. Much more sense than just appearing out of nowhere. “But why?” he asked, not entirely expecting an answer. Manon shrugged, looking just as lost as he did. The two of them continued to eat their food in comfortable silence, making idle conversation about their classes so far every now and then. Someone sat beside Lucas and cleared their throat, causing Lucas to startle, looking over at whoever it was. He nearly choked on his food when his eyes met those of the new kid, bright blue gray and lit up in excitement.

“Hey,” was all the boy said, as if he sat beside Lucas every day. Manon shot Lucas a confused glance. Lucas returned it with a widening of his eyes and a shrug.

“Hey?” he responded at last, trying not to notice the way the boy’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled in response.

“I didn’t know anyone, but I recognized you from my potions class,” the boy said by way of explanation, “I’m Eliott by the way. Eliott Demaury.”

He had a slight Parisian accent, much like Lucas and Manon, who had lived in the city before choosing to attend Hogwarts over Beauxbatons. It sounded like home, and Lucas had to fight the warmth spreading through his body.

“Lucas. Lallement,” Lucas greeted, “And this is my sister Manon Demissy.”

Eliott’s brows creased slightly, but he gave Manon a smile of greeting. Lucas explained, “We’re both adopted, but we were adopted together by the same family. Technically, we’re Lucas and Manon Roux, but our parents let us keep the last names we’d had before we were adopted.”

Eliott nodded in understanding. “Crazy that you both ended up being wizards.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agreed, looking at Manon, “It is a bit weird.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes before standing abruptly. “I’ll see you later Lulu, I just remembered I told Charles I’d meet him before my next class.”

“Oh, Charles, how could I forget. More important than eating lunch with your brother, huh?” he teased. She didn’t take the bait, leaning down to give him a kiss on either cheek.

“Yes, Charles. Don’t worry, I’m leaving you in good company. It was nice to meet you, Eliott,” she said over her shoulder, blowing another kiss as she left to meet her boyfriend.

Eliott’s eyes followed Manon as she left, something that made Lucas prickle unintentionally. “She seems nice,” Eliott said finally, turning his attention back to Lucas.

“Yeah, she’s the best. But Charles is her boyfriend, so I don’t think you’ll have much luck there,” Lucas said. Eliott’s eyes narrowed in confusion, then realization. He laughed, “Oh-- I’m not-- she really does seem nice. I’m not trying to date your sister, don’t worry.”

“Oh,” Lucas said, warming considerably. He looked back down at Eliott’s blue trimmed robes and turned his gaze to the rest of the Great Hall, where many people were staring at the two of them in shock and interest. It wasn’t very common to sit at a different house table, even if you were dating someone from a different house. Not that he and Eliott were dating, or ever going to date. He felt his cheeks reddening and sensed Eliott’s gaze on him.

“You alright?” Eliott asked.

“Yeah, it’s just, people are looking at us. Well, at you. People don’t normally sit at the wrong house table,” he explained, “It’s kind of weird, I guess.”

“That’s weird too?” Eliott said with a grin. “I’m sorry, then. At my old school we just sat wherever we wanted. I’m still getting used to these houses and everything. I can leave if you want.”

“No!” Lucas said a little to quickly. He tried to regain his composure. “No need now, lunch is almost over. Where did you go to school before?”

“Beauxbatons.” It seemed Manon and Emma’s information had been fairly accurate, then. It also explained the accent.

Lucas nodded in acknowledgement. “Why did you come here?” He tried not to sound too curious, but he was. What turn of events had brought Eliott Demaury into Lucas’ universe?

Eliott cast his eyes downward, face darkening slightly. “I was expelled.”

“Oh,” Lucas said, not quite sure how to respond. He really wanted to push for more details, but the look on Eliott’s face told him that maybe wasn’t a very good idea. In an instant, that look was gone, and Eliott’s face was bright once again.

“Let me guess,” he said, “You find that weird too?”

The slight tension that had filled the air released. Lucas breathed out a short laugh. “A little weird,” he agreed.

“I must be weird too, then,” Eliott shrugged. Lucas brought his eyes back up to meet Eliott’s. He backtracked, “That’s not what I meant.”

Eliott laughed, humor dancing in his eyes. “It’s ok, we’re all a little weird. Are you weird?”

“Oh, off the charts.” Lucas laughed along with Eliott, finding that he never wanted this conversation to end.

“I like weird, I think,” Eliott said, face more serious than it had been a moment before. Lucas was caught in his gaze, but didn’t want to leave it anytime soon. He liked weird too, he thought.

Eliott stood up quickly, causing Lucas to jump at the abruptness. “I should head out, this place is a maze. I’ll never find my next class if I don’t leave now.”

Lucas blinked away his disappointment. “Yeah, sure is.”

Eliott still hesitated beside him, looking like he was trying to find words. Lucas raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll see you later then,” Eliott said at last, walking away backwards, keeping his gaze trained on Lucas. Lucas waved in response, trying not to feel too let down. “Weirdo,” Eliott mouthed as he reached the doors to the Great Hall, finally turning away.

Lucas felt a blush rise to his cheeks and smiled. He didn’t totally know where Eliott Demaury had come from, but found that he didn’t really care as long as Eliott existed in the same place he did.

#elu hogwarts au #elu fic #elu #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #skam france #eliott x lucas #hogwarts #hogwarts au #la fin des temps

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