#or is this therapeutic? maybe it was therapeutic to ciel

[scliffe]

Not that Sebastian’s ever had any human rights in the first place; but how this man was about to enter into a slavery contract and he’s just giggling away about it…

I wonder what kind of contracts Sebastian used to have; the people who would conduct satanic rituals and summon demons most likely wouldn’t be good people in the first place—him getting such a cute little young master like Ciel was a highly improbable anomaly. Though judging from how Ciel was the only person who managed to summon him instead of all the cultists, there is probably some kind of prerequisite to be able to summon him in the first place—was it only possible when one was desperate enough, or does the sacrifice need to be someone significant enough to the contractor to be “worthy”?

Either way, if those are the types of people who regularly calls for and interacts with Sebastian, no wonder he looks down on humanity—the types of wishes that people would ask from a demon must be so inconsequential in the eyes of the immortal being. Thus why he called them ‘the fools who turned their backs on God’ and would try to dupe them by promising them lies. His relationship with his previous contractors were likely to be short-lived, vain, and shallow. He must have delighted in playing tricks on them then putting them out of their misery.

And honestly?? Can’t blame him. If I was regularly bothered and called upon by a bunch of greasy freaks raping children in their orgies, I’d have as much fun as him making them scream and ripping them apart.

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines Lights The Dark

Chapter 4: On My Mind

Fourteen hours and three days. That’s how long it had been since Penny went to the evening party, how long it had been since she had met Whitley, and how long the thought of him had made her feel odd. That night she went home told her dad about the events that unfolded at the evening party. Everything was fine until she got to the part where she saved Whitley then things got hazy. It was so strange she remembered everything clearly but when she tried to vocalize her thoughts on the boy she would start to stutter and her temperature would rise, turning her face red. At first she thought it was some sort of glitch in her speech and temperature gauge but her dad checked and said there was nothing was wrong and that her body was just reacting to her mind and her soul processing her emotions. Flustered is the word he used for the reaction, he said quote “It’s a perfectly normal reaction for a sweet young lady like you to have when meeting a handsome young man.” Though that answer did not resonate well with Penny for a few reasons. Firstly the reaction itself made very little sense to Penny as why would meeting an attractive person make another person behavior in such so oddly. Secondly Penny had already met plenty of young men in the military most of which were very handsome and she hadn’t reacted in this way at all. And lastly Whitley was not handsome, his features and overall demeanor aligned more with the definition of beautiful or pretty as they held a more elegant and delicate nature compared to the more rugged and brash nature of the word handsome. When asked the different the best way Penny could describe it was that he was less like someone you’d see in the training center but more like someone you’d see at a library sitting in an armchair next to a window, sunlight beaming down on him as he reads some complex text.

Penny: I wonder if he likes the classics or more modern literature. Historical fiction maybe? Is he the type of person who likes to have a snack or drink while he reads or would he not risk the chance of damaging the book? Though judging by the look and feel of his hands they are very nimble and steady so it’s very unlike he would spill anything. But maybe he’s the type of person that worries too much.

Penny continues to get lost in her thoughts, seated at the control panel for the training room. She was immersed in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Winter entering the room nor did she notices Winter sneaking up from behind and get down to her level. Winter positions herself to be leaning right next to Penny’s ear. She taps her a few times first, when that fails to get her attention Winter decides to go with plan B.

Winter: penny…Oh Penny…..PENNY POLENDINA!

Penny: Eeep!

Penny squeaks in sear fright when she realizes it’s Winter she quickly turns around, jumps from her chair and salutes Winter.

Penny: Good afternoon Winter Schnee! How may I assist you today?

Winter: Well first you can stop your silly daydreaming and focus! Second you do your job and get the training room ready for my session-

“Ring” “Ring”

Winter’s scroll rings cut her. She takes the call, stepping out of the room into the hallway. After a minute and fifteen seconds she returns.

Winter: Call someone to take over your post. I need you to come with me for an errand.

Penny: Right now?

Winter: Yes.

Winter walks out with Penny trailing behind her. Penny quickly asks the nearest center staff member to take over the training room then dashes after Winter. They keep walking for a while until they reach a small building hidden behind the rest of the facilities. Penny know about this building, when she was restored one of the first things she was told was if there was ever an emergency and this building was in danger of being damaged or destroyed to protect she and any other soldiers in the area were to protect it with their lives. The second was that she could never enter without either General Ironwood’s or Winter’s presence and permission. Now why would one small building amongst so many military facilities have such strict rules? Because it housed something crucial to the safety of the entire nation and the world.

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This morning had been an interesting one. After spending a few hours in conference with Ironwood, the details of they’re deal had finally been ironed out.. It was fairly simple agreement, the Schnee’s would provided support in the military’s investigation via invitations to formal events, etiquette lessons, and they even offered some financial assistance if necessary. In exchange Ironwood would back Jacques in his future political endeavors. Both would be sworn to complete secrecy on the matter for the sake of both parties public images. It was a simple exchange of resources a common practice in the business world however there was an additional clause in arrangement that had Whitley a bit on edge.

As they exit the reception room Jacques is preoccupied with his scroll while Whitley was pondering on what to do about the clause. It had added on in the last few minutes of the conference thus there was no time to debate or discussed it further then a yes or no. Knowing there was little to no chance of changing it outright Whitley decides to question Jacques on it to see if he could find some kind of trying and reason him into changing the conditions of this clause over time. He waits until they are far out of ear shot then speaks.

Whitley: Father?

Jacques: Yes, Whitley.

Whitley: I understand that we have to be cautious when dealing with the military but was it really necessary to add that last clause to the agreement?

Jacques: Of course it was necessary. I can’t just hand over my best tutors to those barbarians, they’d either be scared off by one of the mongrels he calls soldiers or return as his spies and I won’t stand for it! The lessons have to happen here, in the manor, that way I’ll know exactly what their little military hound is up to.

Whitley: Yes I do agree the change in location was but that’s not the problem. What I’m struggling with is the very last adjustment. The staff will be present and will be monitoring her every move while she’s in the manor so is changing her instructor really necessary?

Jacques stops in front of Whitley, he turns around, looks down at Whitley, and puts his hand on his shoulder.

Jacques: Whitley, this situation is nothing like any deals I’ve made before. This isn’t hosting an out of town guest for the evening nor is entertaining a group of businessmen. I am granting access to the manor to one of Ironwood’s soldiers for an undisclosed amount of time. If it were only going to be for a week I’d be less strict but possible months! Not a chance in Hell. And with that filth Klein betraying us I can’t chance give my trust to someone just to have them do the same. No, this task can only be handled by someone I know would NEVER betray me. Do you understand?

Jacques squeezes Whitley’s shoulder tight, the skin under his shirt and vest begins to redden as Jacques digs his nails into it. Whitley winces in pain but Jacques holds firm. He won’t let go until he gets the answer he’s expecting. Whitley takes a deep breath to compose himself before he finally speaks.

Whitley: Yes Father.

Jacques: Good, now since there’s nothing left to discuss, go to the library you have a business statistic lesson in thirty minutes.

Whitley: Yes Father.

Jacques pulls his scroll back out again and walks off without another word. While Whitley, holding his now bruised shoulder, starts heading towards the library and sighs. What a useless conversation, there was really no changing the situation all Whitley could do was prepare, the girl will be starting her lessons and he needed to be ready. Though it wasn’t like he really had anything to fear from her besides her physical strength and military training she had come off as a fairly awkward and meek girl with little to no social awareness. But still he could help this unnerving feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach. Why did idea of her presence make him feel so uneasy?

“????:….I….want….I want to see her….I want to see her smile again.”

The memory of the unknown voice plays in Whitley’s mind. He still hadn’t figured out what caused the deviation of the dream nor what the voice was or where it came from. What he did know was that it wished for him to see that girl, Penny, again and regardless of his wishes, it looks like it was going to have its way.

Whitley: This isn’t what I was hoping for but there’s no going back now. I’ll just have to push through.

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After several security checks and the removal of all their weapons Penny and Winter finally reach their destination, a kitchen with a door at the other end. Winter goes to speak the cook while Penny stands behind her confused by what’s happening. They had come to the most secured building in the entire center base just to go to the kitchen. When she done talking Winter goes back to Penny and points her towards a tea set, kettle, and stove.

Winter: Go brew some tea. She likes camomile , no cream, a teaspoon of sugar, a three drops off lemon juice.

Penny: Yes Ma’am

Winter turns around grabs a tray of food of the counter, and walks through the other door. Penny does as she was told and starts making tea. She had already learned how to sometime again before she had ever left the lab. She’d brew coffee and tea for her dad and Ciel during breaks, long nights, or when it got really cold out. Back then Penny couldn’t feel things like warmth or cold but hated to see them shivering or struggling to stay awake in the middle of the night so she’d make warm drinks, get them blankets, and clean up after them if they were too tired to do it themselves. Those times had made the act of brewing tea quite therapeutic and calming for Penny and since she gained the ability to enjoy the practice to its fullest she had only gotten better at it. But at times like this she was also reminded of her former attendant Ciel.

Penny: (Sighs) It’s been a while since I’ve seen her. Ever since that day.

Ciel had be like an older sister to Penny, wise, caring, and always there for the people around her. They’d been fairly close before they went to Beacon but after the tournament and Beacon’s fall Penny hasn’t seen her again, she asked for her a few times right after she was restored but she never came. Supposedly she was still working in robotics but was reassigned to mecha production and maintenance.

Penny: I would ask Dad where she is and how she’s doing but I don’t think she would want me to find her. Still I hope she’s doing well.

The whistle of the kettle pulls Penny out of her thoughts, the water was ready. Penny pours the hot water into the tea pot over the tea leaves in a circular motion. She lets it sit to set and cool a bit then pours the tea into the cup and adds the sugar and lemon. She puts everything on a tray and heads towards the door. As she gets closer Penny can feel cold air brush past her, she keeps going only to find the door has a layer of frost covering the edges. She pulls the door open to see what looks like a hospital room. There’s nothing particularly odd about the room aside from the many paintings that decorated the walls, the large window close to the ceiling, and the GROWING FROST AND DROPPING TEMPERATURE! The floor and a few feet of the walls have been covered layer of ice, Winter is standing by the bed where a frail elderly woman lays looking rather upset, the ice seems to emanating from her hands. Winter tries to get the women to cooperate with her but the woman just shakes her head as the temperature continues to drop.

Winter: Freya please stop being so stubborn, you need to eat now. It’s almost time for your medicine and you can’t it on an empty stomach.

Freya just shakes her head, unwilling to listen to Winter commands. This wasn’t too shocking as the elderly in Atlas were notorious for their attitudes. Anyone over the age of 50 was either the sweetest old person you’d ever met or the most stubborn and unruly. For the stubborn ones only the most patient of people could handle care for them. Luckily for them Penny was one of those people.

Penny continues to walk towards Freya, increasing her body’s temperature to keep the tea heated as she gets closer. Once she’s at Freya’s bedside she bends down to her level and gives her a warm smile.

Penny: Ms. Freya?

Penny stands over smiling silently as she waits for a response. Freya eventual turns her head towards her and groans. Still smiling Penny extends the tray to Freya.

Penny: Would you to have your tea first or do want your lunch first instead?

Freya groans again but motions for the tea cup.

Penny: Okay tea it is then. But you have to eat your lunch afterwards then take your medicine. Is that okay with you?

Freya nods and reaches for the cup, Penny pushes the cup towards her hand and help guid to her mouth. Once Freya’s got her cup of tea the ice stops forming and Penny turns to Winter.

Penny: Do you need me to do anything else?

Winter: (sighs) Please go and reheat her lunch.

Penny: Yes Ma’am!

Penny does as she’s told and reheats the food and brings the food back out. After Freya’s fed and medicated the girls begin gathering up the dishes and talking.

Winter: Thank you Penny, taking care of the Maiden can be taxiing at times. Especially when she gets in modes like this.

Penny: Is that why you told me to come with you on this errand?

Winter: Yes, I thought given your physical abilities and personality you’d be best suited to help keep her calm or in the worst case scenario hold her down with lower risk of major injuries.

Penny: Thank you?

Penny looks around again this time noting the paintings in detail. The all had a similar style, some looked older then the others, and there was an easel and cabinet full of fresh paints and brushes.

Penny: Winter? The paintings here were they all made by-

Winter: Yes, Freya was a talented painter before she became the Maiden, the large one on your right was the last piece she made before she fully devoted herself to being the Maiden and retired from her art career.

Penny: Oh.

Penny looks up at the paintings. It’s a silhouette of a little girl holding up a ball of light, the background is a starry night sky over snowy mountain range. The vocal point of the painting seems to seem to be the girl and the light. The light swirled outward blending into the other whites of paintings and while only being a silhouette the girl seems to looking at the light her expression unknown. What does the girl see in the light Penny wonders. She stares at for long moment trying to find meaning in the art piece. But soon Winter calls her back to the kitchen. Penny waves goodbye to Freya and takes one last look at the paintings before leaving.

Once they’ve cleaned up they leave the facility and go their separate ways to continue their work days. From there Penny continue with her day, her mind wondering back and forward between thoughts of the painting, Ciel, and Whitley until she finally finishes up her work day and goes home. When she opens the front door Penny is greeted by the sound of rustling of paper bags and the scent of pre cooked food. She goes to kitchen to see her dad setting a brown paper bag on the table. Pietro looks up to see her sporting a curious look as she inspects the bag.

Pietro: Welcome home Sweetpea.

Penny: Hi Dad, what’s in the brown paper bag? It smells quite good.

Pietro: Well, I was going to cook but I’ve been on phone on conferences all day and forgot to take anything out. So I ordered us some takeout instead.

Penny: Takeout!

Pietro: Yup, it’s stuff you haven’t tried yet to!

Penny: Yay!

Pietro opens the bag and pulls out three containers. He opens them to reveal a large amount of delicious looking food.

Pietro: We’ve got some soup dumplings, spicy wontons, and Yang Chow fried rice courtesy of Ms. Ling’s.

Ms. Ling’s was a popular family owner restaurant in Mantle Penny passed by almost everyday on patrol. The scent from the front door alone was enough to make her want to go in and order as much as she could have in one sitting but she never have the time or money to make quick trip. But tonight she would have her fill!

Penny runs and grabs two plates and forks. She hands her dad his then makes her plate, four soup dumplings, a couple spicy wontons, and a helping of fried rice! Pietro chuckles as fulls up her plate. Once her plate is full she sits down, and just as she about to take her first bite her scroll rings. Penny pulls out her scroll with her free hand and begins to read her messages. She tries to read and eat at the same but once she gets to a certain point she drops her fork.

Pietro: Penny? What’s wrong? Did something happen?

Penny: I-It’s m-my briefing a-a-and n-new sch-schedule. T-they j-just s-s- sent it a- a-a-and.

Pietro: And what?

Penny: The ten-tenth p-page l-last paragraph. I-it says it says-

Penny holds up her scroll for her dad to see and puts her head down on the table. Pietro tips his glasses a bit as he begins reading the section she mentioned.

Pietro: “ The formal etiquette lessons shall be held at the Schnee Manor Monday through Friday during the scheduled times. Penny Polendina will be chauffeured from the designated transit station to the Schnee Manor and back via a private chauffeured car. The lessons will be instructed by the Schnee Dust Company Heir, Whitley Schnee with up to five manor staff personnel present during each session. This schedule will go into effect tomorrow morning, please arrive on time and be appropriately attired.”

Penny: (high pitched squeak)

Pietro: Hmm, there’s a Note from the Instructor at the end. “ Good evening Ms. Polendina I’m looking forward to seeing you in the afternoon for our orientation session. I’m excited to teach you what I know and hope this will be a wonderful learning experience for both of us. Sincerely Whitley Schnee.”

With that Penny put her scroll down on the table and puts her hands in her now red face and starts squeaking at in even higher pitch while her dad just sits there and awkwardly pats her head. Tomorrow is going to be a very Very VERY difficult day.

[therattsden]

VLaD and Whitney might hate each other now, but in the beginning... They didn’t. Back when VLaD didn’t hate humans and just wanted to do his best. Circumstances lead to them thinking he was starting to become dangerous, blaming him for things he couldn’t quite control. So cores were added to ‘regulate’ him. The first of those was Whitney.

She was brought in to distract while they tried to fix whatever they thought was wrong. He wasn’t used to casual chatter yet and her ideas were bizarre so it was welcomed company, especially after work hours. But then one of Whit’s brilliant experiment ideas got them in trouble and she was soon removed, sent off for whatever other job they could think to give her.

VLaD got the short end of the stick. His legs were removed first and eventually had other senses and limbs taken away as ‘punishments’ for his behavior. He hated Whitney for getting him into this mess and the scientists for how they reacted. He’d done everything they asked of him and they still treated him like this, never listening to his warnings and getting blamed for the result... When the lack of limbs and vision didn’t work and the anger he felt grew, they tried a heavily modified version of an android. After all, what else could they take from him? All they could do now was add.

Curiosity. It was more of an attempt to get his curious nature back and ease the resentment, but given the core did nothing but ask obvious questions and never respond to his own questions, it was more of an irritant than anything. Then came Cake. Find something to distract him, even if it’s corrupted it’ll be fine. It didn’t help quite like they’d hoped as the cakes being made started to contain toxic sludge and fish. If he wanted to be angry, fine. Maybe hearing someone else be equally as pissed would help ease it? Anger was added, snarling and writhing in its fury. She didn’t do much but add noise to his already cluttered processors. Not quite as therapeutic as they wanted, and he started acting on the anger differently through ‘accidentally’ leaking neurotoxin into rooms with scientists he hated.

If that’s how he wanted to play it, fine. Morality was added to keep an eye on him when no one else could, and he hated her the most. His silent judge, jury, and executioner, able to use the euphoria/punishment system as she saw fit. Sure, she wasn’t as bad as the scientist who would come in after hours to ‘mess with’ the same system... But she was a stickler for any and all rules, and sometimes even thinking about hurting someone would earn him a swift shock. Was it to train him into associating hurting others with pain? Perhaps. She was Pavlov, but he refused to be her dog.

The neurotoxin attempts became more frequent as he grew used to the shocks... Before halting completely. For a little while, anyways. After everything they put him through he wanted the scientists dead. Every. Single. One. To do that, he needed access to the neurotoxin generator. Morality had control over the security features in the main chamber like the rocket turret, but if a fool gave him access to the generator, he wouldn’t need to worry about her stopping him...

The plan came to fruition eventually. Some idiot granted him access for an ‘experiment’ he claimed he wanted to run. Given he was fully authorized to use it, Morality couldn’t stop him when he began flooding the enrichment center. No one could. It was a success aside from Dr. Rattmann and a few stragglers that died soon after. But he could live with that since she, too, would likely die before being able to hurt him. As long as he could finally test in relative peace...

When Ciel finally made it to the main chamber, VLaD feigned ignorance of the cores. He wanted Morality incinerated. He needed her to be before he could kill the mute. "Do you see that thing that fell out of me? What is that? It's not the surprise... I've never seen it before." Given Ciel’s refusal to follow any directions he gave, VLaD used it to his advantage.

"I wouldn't bother with that thing. My guess is that touching it will just make your life even worse somehow. I don't want to tell you your business, but if it were me, I'd leave that thing alone. Do you think I am trying to trick you with reverse psychology? I mean, seriously now. Okay fine: DO touch it. Pick it up and just... stuff it back into me."

Ciel played right into his hands... At first. When the mute realized that incinerating the other androids hurt the mainframe itself, he kept going. Hoping to do the same to VLaD himself so Ciel could leave.

The momentary relief of less constraints was halted when Curiosity was rocketed off and incinerated. VLaD panicked (though he’d never admit it). Sure he hated the other androids, but having them improperly removed and incinerated like this could cause a meltdown meant for security purposes. Perhaps if he taunted him enough, Ciel would take too long and the neurotoxin would do it’s job. But that didn’t work either.

Thrashing the chassis wildly with no hands to grab the mute and stop him, all he could do was talk Appeals to emotion, to immortality, to safety... Ciel didn’t even consider it. “ Look: we're both stuck in this place. I'll use lasers to inscribe a line down the center of the facility, and one half will be where you live, and I'll live in the other half. We won't have to try to kill each other or even talk if we don't feel like it.”

Nothing worked. Thus returned the anger. No one ever listened to him. That’s how they got in this situation to begin with. Insults thrown around, digital backup deleted... And suddenly nothing. Well, he wished it had been nothing. No, he was there again. Rewatching the fight from the security cameras. Seeing his pitiful form for the first time since his vision had been taken away. He wanted out, he didn’t want to see himself squirm, flail helplessly against someone who wanted him dead...

How long had it been? He’d lost track for the moment. But then there was light. A voice. An irritatingly familiar voice, one that panicked as his mainframe started linking back to itself.

"Okay don't panic! Alright? Stop panicking! I can still stop this. Ahh. Oh there's a password.  It's fine. I'll just hack it. Not a problem... umm... A...A...A...A...A... Umm... A. Nope. Okay. A... A... A... A... A... C. No. Wait, did I do B? Do you have a pen? Start writing these down. Okay. Okay. Okay listen: New plan. Act natural act natural. We've done nothing wrong... Hello!"

There they were... The mute and the moron. Perfect.

"Oh... It's you."

[the-little-red-noodle]

11/5/17 1:59am Gratitude

Making a quick gratitude list for the night because gratitude is the key to happiness.

I am fortunate to have made such good friends here at Oxy. I've always been about quality over quantity and I'm glad to have really clicked with some people.

I am thankful for my health and well being. Life sucks sometimes, but i am not battling cancer. I am not schizophrenic. Yes i have trauma that I'm still working through, but so are many others. I'm not alone in that. And i am fortunate to have the means to deal with my problems through talk therapy or my own version of a mental health day. People say money can't buy happiness but it can buy fuzzy Target blankets, pomegranate juice, and bbq chips.

I am grateful to be getting back into art. I used to do mostly face characters- heavy pencil line work, pen outlines, rarely colored. That turned into less detailed colored pieces and then continuing to digress away from pencil or harsh line and being mainly based in the colors of the piece. Sometimes there isnt a character at all. And while i would say that my older art is 'better', i am focusing on the therapeutic aspects of colors and painting. It makes me feel happy, and that's the goal isnt it?

I am grateful for solitude. I am grateful for spending time with myself NOT focused on my shortcomings. Theres a difference between spending a night happy and distracted eith netflix, and a night depressed distracted with instagram. I had a much needed wake up call, and now we are on the mend, and that's a good feeling to sit with, even if I'm alone. Theres also a difference between being alone and being lonely. Right now, i don't feel lonely.

I am again grateful for money, and that i can afford to travel abroad this summer. I am grateful for the opportunity to do a service abroad in a less fortunate area. If that goes well and fills my bucket as much as it sounds, maybe joining the peace corps will be a real option. There are so many possible paths to take at this point in my life. Id like to think that somehow I'll end up there.

Speaking of that, I'm grateful for optimism. I feel happy that since the social media ban i have hope again. I feel proactive and optimistic and youthful. I think it was a really good move for me.

I am grateful for my family. My sweet supporting parents and my funny cute mom. My sweetheart dad. I am grateful for my brothers even if we don't exactly talk every day. Blood is thicker than water. I miss them.

I am grateful for my life tonight. When i had my breakdown a couple days ago, i had really strong urges to cut. I had really strong suicidal thoughts. I wondered if my balcony on the 3rd floor would be enough of a drop to kill me, or just break some bones. I think I'm more content thinking that i would survive the fall, it deterred me from doing it. But i really thought about it. But laying here in the same bed staring at the same wall thres days later, i feel different. I don't mean to sound dramatic saying that my mentality is drastically different, but maybe it's nice that i think so.

I don't want to jump off my balcony. I don't want to cut up my hips. I want to sew holes in my backpack. I want to buy plants for the balcony. I want to live. I want to stay alive so badly. I want to experience this school for all that it's worth. I want to have tough classes. I want to continue these friendships and make them stronger. I want to sing and dance alone in my room. I want to watch a bunch of old netflix shows. I want to look at the cieling of fairy lights and flower strands. I want to study abroad and help someone and brush up on my spanish. I want to see what paths i end up taking. I want to live. Nothing is too hard that i can't handle. I've seen again and again how my support system has my back. No matter what i choose, I'm gunna be fine. Financially, physically, emotionally I'll have some shit happen, but if i can survive what i have, i can do anything. If i can survive losing all of my college friends and having an entire school hate me, i can do anything. If i can survive a traumatic experience, i can do anything. I am living and breathing right now for a reason.

I am strong.

Even if i don't feel it all the time or see it in myself all the time, the fight is there. It's faint some days, but theres a push. To keep going. To get to that next class. To avoid the wrong foods. To get the work done. To put on those layers to get me through the day. I am strong and i will choose to keep living. And i will live gracciously. Life is a gift not an entitlement. And tonight, right now, god i am so gracious.