#putting the wires in you... like thin mechanical tentacles

[v2isfuckingdead]

cant stop thinking about prehensile wires......

[kathyprior4200]

Welcome to Wacky Wally Wackford’s World!

Greetings, I say, greetings demons of all ages! The name’s Wally Wackford, an oh so suave man of business! You may not know me, but surely you’ve seen me…pretty much everywhere. Yes, I’ve never been the type to stay in one place for long. Life can be pretty wild at times. But that’s what makes it oh so fun!

 So what’s my story, you say, you say? Well look no further, ‘cause I have a tale to tell.

 I’ve been doing freelance work off and on, laboring at one job, moving onto the next. The jobs vary a lot, but I’m a Wally of many trades. (Yes, I’ve been fired many times as well, figuratively and literally…it is Hell after all.) Early on, I found out that living in poverty is never a lot of fun. I quickly learned how to scam other people…and boy did I enjoy it! It was the only way I could inch toward the top, get some power of my own. I’d make a few deals here and there and then when clients got desperate, I’d say something like, “Oh I’m so sorry but there’s an extra fee you have to pay. Forgot to mention that.” Then I’d point to that small scribbled section on the contract I added in moments ago.

 “I’m starving, sir!” they’d say. Or, “I left my money at home,” or my favorite: “Shove it up your trickster rear!”

 Sometimes they did pay me extra. Other times they didn’t…and those were the ones who soon forgot about everything forever. (chuckles).

 Anyway, moving on.

 Sometimes when my days got long and hard, I’d go to saloons for a nice bottled drink. The emerald colored Greed Mead is my favorite. Twirling my thin black mustache, I’d wink at some pretty imp gals nearby and say, “Hey there. You’ve been in Hell for a long time. Is that why you’re so hot?”

 Most of the time, I’d get a swift punch to the face in response. The glares on their pretty faces, “Take that remark to the Sloth Ring, lazy bootleg fucker.”

 So many aggressive people these days. I could tip my black hat to many imps and they’d either fall to my charms or roll their eyes. I was fine with that. There’s not much else to do in Hell then to live your life and amuse yourself with watching others struggle. In fact, pretty much every sin is encouraged, so why not keep going?

 After stalking around looking for more people to scam, I came across Loo-Loo Land in the Ring of Greed. I’ve always loved that place, its vibrant atmosphere emitting joyful fun and chaotic flair. I walked on over and asked the vendor, “I say, you have any jobs here?”

 “I’ve heard of you, Wacky Wally,” he said at the ticket stand. “You may be a good pick-pocket, but your skills are nothing compared to Mammon. In fact, this whole place is a fucking rip-off of Lucifer’s Lu-Lu Land!”

 “All the more reason to love this place!” I exclaimed.

 “Robo Fizz is putting on another show at 7pm tomorrow,” said the beefy imp vendor. “Made in Mammon’s factory and modeled after the famous imp Fizzarolli.” He then spoke in a low whisper, “It includes some behind the scenes moments for the VIPs…you know, with tentacles and ‘special features.’”

 “Oh that sounds delicious!” I said with a slow grin. “It’d be great to see how his…mechanics work someday…”

 The imp vendor rolled his eyes and flinched at my lighthearted comment. Always know what to say to get that grimace reaction.

 “Anyway,” said the vendor, “We’re running low on staff, so you can go sell those torches over there.”

 The imp pointed to a pink cart with Mammon’s jester face on it. I shrugged and got to work.

 I happily rolled my cart around, selling torches wherever I went. I could honestly stare into those mesmerizing green flames all day.

 “Torches here!” I drawled in my Foghorn Leghorn southern accent. “66% off when you buy four! Parties, decoration, destruction and more!”

 One time on my break, I got to talk to Robo Fizz about money, shows, sex and chaos. We even cracked some jokes together. The robot seemed a little nervous in my presence but then again, he was very unpredictable on a daily basis.

 “A duck, a frog, a demon and a skunk go into a bar. The bartender told them that the drinks were one dollar each. How did they pay for them? Answer: The duck had a bill, the frog had a greenback, the demon had a soul…but the skunk only had a scent!”

 “Hahahaha!” Robo Fizz laughed, sparks flying near him. “Your jokes are much better than Blitzo’s corny puns!”

 “Why thank you,” I replied. “But nothing beats your organ-playing animatronics in your ‘Wonderful World of Evil’ puppet show you did last month.”

 Robo Fizz grinned at the compliment. “You do anything else besides selling torches?”

 “I scam, I kill, I do a little bit of both. Oh and I’m also a great inventor!”

 “How marvelous!” Robo Fizz grinned. “Perhaps if you have enough mayhem in you, you could perform with me at the next Fizzarolli N Friends show!”

 “I say, I’d love that! I’m sure your show will be top notch, copyright be dammed…won’t it?”

 Robo Fizz smiled widely, hiding a strain. “You bet it will!”

 It was during one interesting day when I pushed my cart by a large tent where several Robo Fizz posters were posted. I held up a troch with a hand and called:

 “Torches, I say! I say! Get your inconvenient torches here!”

 Then before I knew it, the robot and a random imp crashed right into the cart.

 “Ow, I say OW!” I cried as the green flames quickly spread around. After getting the flames off me, I ran for the hills out of the burning park. I sat, dejected shortly afterward. So much for that job. Along with figuring out what to do next, I also happened to watch the imp fight off Robo Fizz…and the robot falling into the dragon’s mouth.

 How unfortunate.

 After helping Robo Fizz from the dragon’s insides, (killing said dragon, pulling out said robot, cleaning and making quick repairs), I inched closer to him and said, “You made some new friends, I say.”

 Robo Fizz stood tense with just long wires for his body, a metal skeleton of his previous appearance. “Yes…an old time co-worker of mine. A clown of an imp named Blitzo. He and his sisters were once part of a circus act called “The Amazing Imp Siblings. A bit dowdy if you ask me. ”

 Robo Fizz looked around. “Hahahaha! That was some chaotic fun. But now the park is ruined!”

 “I say, if I were you,” I told him, “I’d do all I could to get this park repaired and back on track. Costs a whole lotta money. The last thing you need is to have your boss disappointed in you.”

 A brief look of fear came on his face. “Oh yes, yes, good idea, Wally.”

 “And your friend…whether you upstage him or what, you’d best be sure Blitzo stays out of trouble. I lost my job and almost my life because of that fight!” My yellow eyes shined in a show of sadness.

 “I-I will not let master Mammon down…not that I have a choice.”

 “Let Asmodeus know what’s up as well.”

 Robo Fizz nodded, spun away and laughed. “Time to find that rodeo clown imp!”

0 0 0

 Later on after leaving Greed, I got a brilliant idea. It was after I saw some old fashioned 1800s snake man in Pride plow down buildings with a metal bulldozer vehicle. That was it! I could start my own business!

 I walked over to 666 News station. “Oh Katie,” I said in my sweetest voice.

 “What is it, scum?” she asked, sitting at a mirror and doing her hair. “Can’t you see I’m preparing for a back to back broadcast right now?”

 “I was considering doing my very own commercial about me exploiting…erm, employing other demons for my new factory.”

 Katie barked out a laugh. “Good luck with that, filthy old man! Now get out of my studio.”

 “Very well,” I said. As quiet as a hell mouse, I snatched a camera with an eye at the center and made my way out the door. The rest of the materials I needed came from a nearby junkyard. (Thankfully I avoided the wrath of some hungry kangaroo parasitic queen demon). I was running out of money fast; with no job around the corner, I figured I’d start my own!

 Even I don’t really know where I got my inventing skills from. Many say it was my natural trait. Others say I learned from other experts in the trade. After all, one of the quickset ways to a man’s wallet is through the latest technology.

 But I, Wally Wackford would not settle for your standard modern devices. No. I preferred to make things…well, wacky.

 In no time at all, I had built myself my own mini studio where I could film my commercial! Now, what to call my company? Hmm…

  The Onceler One In a Lifetime Opportunity? No, not enough Ws.

 Wowing Whimsical Wonderous Wonders? Nah, too many Ws.

 Ah…of course! What is a company if you don’t have your name on it?

0 0 0

“Uh huh, keep going, keep going, keep going!” Blitzo insisted at the I.M.P. office.

 Moxxie switched the channel again. This time, an imp appeared wearing a large black top hat, a white shirt and pants, gray vest, black bow tie and black boots. He held a cane in his hands and he also had a thin curly mustache. A mischievous grin of sharp teeth appeared on his face.

 “I say, I say!” the imp exclaimed, briefly pointing his cane at the camera. “Are you looking to get work making crazy contraptions and goofy gadgets?” “Crazy Contraptions” and “Goofy Gadgets” appeared in bold spiked icons to the imp’s left and right. The imp twirled his cane.

 “Well call me at Wacky Wally Wackford’s Wacky Idea ‘Factory!’”

 He pulled down another screen. The title appeared in bold red, gray and white letters surrounded by pinkish circles reminiscent of classic cartoons. “Factory” appeared in quotations. Wally Wackford appeared again.

 “Where you make the things and I make the money!”

 Wally Wackford then got up closer to the camera with a pleading look. “Please, I’m very desperate!”

 “Bingo!” Blitzo called, shooting and exploding the TV again.

 0 0 0

 It was actually really easy to find where Blitzo was and the new sinner inventors. The killing company of imps had me very curious. If they could start a business, why shouldn’t I? And being in the company of amazing inventors…

 I could almost see the soul dollar bills floating into my hands.

 I snuck up to the building, merged into the floor, eavesdropped on their fascinating conversation…

  0 0 0

Crash!

 A metal plank crashed into the room from above as Moxxie scurried out of the way. Loopty Goopty strolled down the plank. “Blitz!”

 “Loofa!” Blitzo called, saying his name wrong. “We can explain everything. I was…”

 Crash!

 Millie pulled Moxxie out of the way before another metal plank landed in the spot where he would’ve been. From on the floor, Blitzo’s butt was very much in view. Blitzo glanced down at him and remarked, “Oh chill out Moxxie, if you kiss my ass any harder you’ll go right inside me.”

 Moxxie turned beet red in the face and scooted further back. Millie helped him up again.  

 “Thanks for saving me again,” Moxxie said. “I would’ve foamed at the mouth and maybe died again.”

 “Why would you think I would ever ignore you?”

 Moxxie shrugged.

 Just then, the demonic form of a man rolled down the plank. His body was black and spherical, with a mint green head wearing a black bowler hat on top. He had a large bushy light gray mustache and pince-nez goggles with dark red spirals on the lens like Loopty. His grinning teeth resembled piano keys.

 “Lyle Lipton?!” Millie, Moxxie, and Blitzo asked in unison.

 “I don’t understand,” said Millie. “We thought you went to Heaven.”

 Lyle Lipton chuckled. “Heaven?” He rolled toward Loopty Goopty. “You don’t make millions in technological advances in robotics by not experimenting on the poor!” He laughed.

 Loopy Goopty grinned as he unleashed his weapons in front of Lyle Lipton. “Finally! We meet again at last! Now that you’re dead, you have no money to keep from me!”

 “Well, I’m a better inventor than you!” Lyle scoffed. “And I’ll make the most money here first!”

 “Nonsense you no good son of a bitch!”

 “Tie yourself in a knot, loony Loopty!”

 “Roll in your grave, fat shit inventor!”

 “Two robotic inventors?!” called a nearby voice. A steampunk blimp hovered in the air and a well-dressed snake demon appeared from a hole in his ship.

 “Who is that guy?” Lyle Lipton asked.

 “I’m the one and only Sir Pentious!” he declared. Several Egg Bois were steering his ship. The eye on his dark top hat peered at the other sinners in curiosity. “With my dominating machines, I aim to take over all of Pentagram City!” Then he muttered, “The repairs were a fucking nightmare to endure.” He glanced at the leftover cracks and holes on the metal sides of his ship.

 “Oooh!” Loopty exclaimed in admiration. “I’ve only seen such inventions in old time history books. How long have you been here?”

 “Since eighteen eighty eight!”

 “Love the loopy numbers!” Loopty grinned, making three small eights with his contraptions. “I’m Loopty Goopty! Lyle is my could’ve been partner in crime but actually rival!”

 “When you’re rich as me, who needs a dead partner!” Lyle exclaimed.

 “You’re dead too, you know!”

 “Where did you cowardly sinners get here?” Sir Pentious asked.

 “Well we just got here,” Lyle called. “Experimenting on the poor made us millionaires! Just…be careful when messing with anti-aging machines. Made us both old.”

 “A machine that changes one’s age?” Sir Pentious pondered. “That could prove to be ussseful in the future,” he hissed.

 “Oh, you should join us, snake man!” Loopy suggested. “Or me, rather.”

 Sir Pentious briefly glared. “Hmm. While I’m perfectly capable of spreading my constrictive terror on my own…I suppose having some…lackey sidekicks would suffice.”

 “Don’t call us lackeys!” Lyle sneered. “And I’m not working with him!”

 “Maybe if we briefly collaborate as a team…”

 Lyle grumbled in annoyance.

 After a moment, Sir Pentious sighed. “Okay, you may join me, but…”

 He spread out his hood, revealing pink eyes. “Don’t even think about crossssing me.” He pulled his hood back. “Now go gather your contraptions and help me manage those scrambled fucking eggs!”

 A bunch of eggs in top hats and suits rolled out and jumped on the two inventors, who were stunned.

 Loopty then laughed evilly. “Inventors to inventors it is!”

 Just then, I popped out of the ground in the room.

  “Did someone say, I say inventors?! Name’s Wally Wackford, and I am lookin’ for creative new people to exploit! I mean employ.” I twirled my mustache with an evil grin.

 At last, a chance to expand my business of the mass production of robotic Fizzarollis! All of Hell will go crazy when they get a chance to buy all the sex robots, the merchandise, everything...and all to profit ME!

 “Everyone, stop fucking up my walls!” Blitzo yelled. “Moxxie’s gonna have to fix all this shit! Satan’s balls! First we deal with Heaven’s table-scraps, now this?”

 I smiled. “Well I guess you can say, you say, you have a holey operation here, Blitzo!”

 I slapped my knee and laughed at my own joke.

 “Get out,” Blitzo muttered.

 Soon I doubled down on the floor laughing. “Oh! I said, ‘o’!”

 Blitzo yelled, “No, I’m serious, get the fuck out!”

 Everyone in the room looked at Blitzo in shock and surprise.

0 0 0

 And then, that one other time where I helped host the Harvest Moon Festival Pain Games!

 Wally Wackford a.k.a. me…stood on the wooden stage, holding a gray microphone decorated with an eye in the center and small horns on the top. I wore my usual white shirt, vest, white pants and dark boots. I twirled my black cane and tipped my black top hat.

 I spoke dramatically through the microphone.

 “Welcome, I say welcome all to Wrath Ring’s annual Harvest Moon Festival! To kick things up, we have the great prince Stolas-a here to user in this here Pain Games!”

 Stolas took the microphone from me and chuckled in slight embarrassment.

“How kind, Wackford.”

 Stolas then addressed the audience. “Greetings tiny Wrath Ring imps. I hereby welcome you all to another year of celebrating the spoils of your labor that continue to feed the citizens of Hell!”

 A crowd of imps glared at him and several boos were heard. Many of these Wrath imps were impoverished farmers who lived on scraps, meat or good crops if they were lucky. The food they worked so hard to produce was consumed by royalty and those in the other Rings. But the reward for their work was being underfed, underpaid and underappreciated instead. The unbalanced cycle had lasted for generations.

 I, too, stared at Stolas with a glare in my eyes. That rich royal thinks he can parade around, doing whatever he wants. Well unfortunately for him, I have plans of my own. Once he sees what I’m capable of…

 He will know who really rules the roost.

 Stolas obliviously continued. “I’m happy to kick off the start of these games that will challenge the toughest imps to show their skill and dominance.” He did a little wave with his fingers. “Good luck to you all!” He noticed Blitzo in the crowd beside Moxxie and Striker and spoke lower. “Especially that sexy little one there! Yoo-hoo, Blitzy!”

 “Oh fuck me,” Blitzo scowled.

 A gun went off and the games began.

 The first event was the race. Moxxie was instantly trampled by the other racers.

 The second event was the high jump. Striker climbed over the high wooden ramp structure with ease and raced after Blitzo who jumped past him. Moxxie struggled to keep his balanced as he reached the top. He slipped down, trying to use his claws to hold on. He fell with a splash in a small puddle…and was promptly chewed on by a monstrous black and white shark with several red eyes.

 The third event was an event with rope. Striker grinned as he held a tied up Blitzo. Blitzo’s arms, legs and horns were all tied up. Moxxie gulped as a stronger grinning imp tied him up with ease.

 The fourth event was tug of war. The crowd cheered as the two teams pulled hard. Striker, Blitzo and Moxxie were on a team. Moxxie stumbled and fell into nearby water, where the shark attacked him again.

 The fifth event was mud wrestling. Blitzo and Striker grinned as they wrestled each other, Striker getting the upper hand as he held Blitzo down, arms locked. Moxxie was instantly crushed in a football hurdle by a group of imps. As they got off of him, Moxxie sat up. And the shark leaped out of the water and over the fence.

 “Mother fucker!” Moxxie screamed as the shark crushed him. (Moxxie somehow survived all this.)

 I hopped back on stage.

 “I say, I say for the first year ever, we have a tie, for the winner of the Harvest Moon Pain Games!”

 Stolas took the microphone from me again.

 “The winners are…Striker, and my darling Blitzy!” Stolas did a one-legged pose as the crowd cheered.

 “Just say my name right!” Blitzo complained. He muttered “Fucking dick,” as he and Striker walked onto the stage.

0 0 0

After the event, I noticed that I.M.P. and Stolas had left. After sharing an undiscernible look with Striker, we parted ways.

 I soon returned to a special place in Greed, tired but determined. I walked alone down dark hallways, torches burning green flames on either side. I wagged my pointed red tail.

 I pushed open the double doors and came across a marvelous sight.

 Gold. Heaps of it, just shining brightly all around the vast spacious chamber. Gold pillars held up the cavern-like ceiling, a chandelier made of bones and diamonds hung from above. There were chests of necklaces, precious gems, goblets and weapons of every shape and size. Hanging on a far wall, concealed in shadow were angelic weapons…at least half a dozen.

 I stared around in amazement. Even Lucifer would be surprised if he could see this place.

 I raced around and tossed the gold coins into the air. In a craze, I rolled around in a nearby pile of green dollar souls. With a grin, I stood up and stared with pride at the grinning face of the jester printed on there.

 A face confident in his ability to deceive others, pursue wealth and bask in endless entertainment.

 The grinning face was all too familiar…

 …because it was my face.

 Wally Wackford leaned his head back, mouth open in a high pitched shriek as dark magic flickered around him. The imp form fell and morphed into shadow. In the imp’s place, a large black beast with thick fur, razor sharp claws and red eyes decorating the body. The figure stood up on two powerful furry legs and sat comfortably in a giant golden throne that occupied the center of the chamber. Angular jester clothing of red, gold and purple stripes adorned the wolf body. And finally, a large spiked black crown sat atop the dark loopy jester hat with bells at the ends. A white and gold jester face showed sharp white teeth and glowing yellow eyes. Dark clawed hands juggled fresh demon skulls into the air and popped them into his large mouth. He crunched loudly before swallowing every bit.

 My imp disguise was perfect. Literally no one else save for Robo Fizz and a few elites knew who was underneath. And even then, my magic was so powerful it could easily confuse anyone around me.

 Being an imp has its advantages; you can travel anywhere and gather information along the way. You can track imps from a killing company and find out where they’ll likely travel to next. You can affiliate yourself with your own robotic creations, some slave imps and succubi…and then in your own form, work with a fellow Deadly Sin on the next stage.

 A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

 Funny, really. Wally Wackford could easily be a separate being, born into poverty, learning to scam others at an early age and go up from there. I, however, didn’t need to learn anything…deceiving others and attracting material wealth was a natural talent. As was shapeshifting.

 Lucifer might not be happy with me coping his idea of a theme park…but business is business…and in Hell, anything goes.

 That incompetent prince Stolas would be dead soon enough. No more Goetia showoffs to get in the way of my rule and reputation. At least the prince’s wife was rightfully concerned with maintaining tradition that has existed for centuries. Aside from my dear friend Lucifer, I was, and should be, the most powerful being in Hell. I’ll keep exploiting those I choose because money is money.

 Those I.M.P. assassins have no idea who they were dealing with.

 I let out a crazed evil laugh, intermingled with a wolf’s howl. With a single touch of my hand, my nearby scepter turned into gold. I admired its shiny flawless sheen. Asmodeus, Leviathan, Lucifer, Satan, Belphegor, Beelzebub and myself…the Seven Deadly Sins…circus-loving rulers of the Overlords and in charge of maintaining chaotic order in our respective Rings.

  I, Mammon, had much to do.

[skepticalcatfrog]

Among The Stars Chapter 3

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Summary: Logan Watts is a famous scientist, known by almost everyone in the galaxy. His most famous invention is his friend and assistant, a healthcare android named Patton. When they are called to another planet for a meeting with the local ruler, they're expecting a completely normal trip. Little did they know, this trip would send them into a daring adventure to protect their galaxy and stop a war. Teamed up with unlikely friends, including a runaway gladiator and an infamous crime trio, Logan and Patton have to figure out how to make peace and save their universe (and beyond) from being destroyed.

Pairings: (Eventual) Logicality, Prinxiety, and Demus

Word count: 5,322

Author's Notes: Finally, the last introductory chapter! After this we're going to be getting more into the plot.

Dalton stood with his back against the wall, holding a walkie-talkie close to his face.

"I'm about three more hallways away from the vault, but there are more and more guards as I get closer to it. They're armed and I'm not, so what do you think our next step should be?" He asked, waiting for a response from his team.

Dalton was part of a team of three. He and his two accomplices were thieves, and they were experts at what they did. The only reason they were famous was because they'd only been caught once. Dalton was the leader of their group, and was currently inside one of the most heavily guarded vaults in the galaxy. He'd broken in two hours ago, and was trying to navigate without a detailed map. All he knew was where the vault itself was.

"Well you've already gotten this far by yourself, but if you wanted us to come help you I think we could." Remus answered, looking at the map in front of him. He had the detailed one back at their base.

Remus was another member of the team. He handled the maps. He was good at causing distractions, but usually he didn't go on missions. Although, he would be going if it weren't for Anxiety. 

Anxiety was the third team member. He was an android that Dalton and Remus had found during one of their heists. He was almost completely broken. He still had consciousness, and full mobility of his face. But he couldn't talk, and he could barely move anything else. He was made to predict every outcome of a situation, but had been scrapped by his inventor after experiencing a glitch that caused him to only be able to predict bad outcomes. Because of this, Dalton and Remus called him Anxiety, since he couldn't tell them his real name. He didn't seem to mind it.

"Yeah, come here and meet me. You know where I am, right?" Dalton asked, staying where he was for the moment. "I might have moved once you show up, but there aren't many other places I might be."

"Then you might just have to remind me once I'm there." Remus said, carrying the walkie-talkie with him to get his backpack.

He didn't wear a backpack to carry anything. Instead, he used it to store and hide the four tentacles sprouting from his back. They were useful, but could easily get in the way when he was trying to get somewhere quickly.

"Just one thing: don't bring Anxiety." Dalton stressed those three words, looking around nervously. "He can't defend himself, and he wouldn't last a second out here. I have to go, get here fast."

He clipped the walkie-talkie to his belt, and looked around the corner into another identical hallway. There were three guards standing right there. His eyes widened and he took a swift step back. If one of those guards had just turned around, the whole mission would've been over.

Dalton gripped the gem on the necklace he was wearing. He'd stolen it on a previous excursion. It was the perfect combination of science and magic. He held out his other hand, and it started to glow bright yellow. Three bright yellow holographic hands appeared from thin air. Then they flew around the corner, and Dalton let them work their magic. A few moments later, he walked around the corner to find all three guards unconscious on the ground, and all three of the extra hands gone.

"Works every time." He muttered to himself. Then he kept moving. Remus wasn't there yet, and he didn't know what kind of delay could possibly be happening. He tapped the bracelet on his wrist, and his map appeared.

There were two dots on it: A red one, and a yellow one. The yellow one was him, and the red one was the vault. It was a simple design, but it worked. Based on where he was now, he could tell that the entrance to the vault was just around the next corner. He couldn't stay still forever, but he knew he wouldn't stand a chance without his... associate. "Damnit Remus, where are you…"

~~~

After Dalton turned off the walkie-talkie, Remus left almost immediately. He grabbed his empty backpack, which had four holes in the part that faced his back so he could store his tentacles inside. He picked up his headphones from where he'd put them on the table. He explained to Anxiety where he was going, and why the android couldn't tag along. Then he was on his way, using Dalton's motorcycle to leave. He wasn't an expert at riding it, but he could get around well enough. He left the atmosphere without a care in the world. Because you see, one thing about Remus is that he doesn't need to breathe to live. He was totally fine in the vacuum of space without an air tank or anything. Of course, that was the only good thing that was going to happen on this trip.

It was smooth sailing for a while. Boring, even. He'd already seen everything around the area, so there wasn't anything to look at. He put on his headphones in hopes of picking up a radio signal. It was only a couple of minutes until he found one. Static started to play through the speakers. Then someone started talking.

"A UFO has been picked up by our sensors." The voice said.

"Is there any way to get a better reading on it?" A second voice asked. That was when Remus realized that his headphones has picked up feed from some sort of intercom system.

"Yes, just a moment." The first voice stopped speaking for a solid minute. "Upon closer inspection, it appears to be a person riding a motorcycle."

This was when Remus realized that they were talking about him.

"Really? Let me get a look." The second voice requested. "Ah, okay. I see. That is a very dangerous individual."

A dangerous individual is exactly what most people would describe Remus as. If they hadn't met him, of course. Those who had met him would simply say that he was unpredictable.

"But how? He looks fairly normal." The first voice observed. Remus laughed. He knew they could see him, but he didn't care. They wouldn't know he was laughing at them anyway.

"We're going to need to take him into custody." The second voice decided. "Send out a couple of soldiers, they should be able to take care of him."

Remus shut off the connection on his headphones. He'd have to get out of there fast if he wanted to avoid those soldiers. Unfortunately, only Dalton knew how to make the motorcycle go any faster than a leisurely float in space. It really needed an atmosphere to go quickly.

As many of you probably already know, space doesn't have air, and sound waves can't travel. So when the four soldiers began closing in on him, he couldn't hear a thing. But he was very intuitive, and something in the back of his mind knew that they were there. He slid his backpack off of his shoulders and ditched it into the void. He knew he wouldn't be needing it for at least long enough to get a new one.

He wrapped one of his tentacles around a small ship, and swung it around until it crashed into another ship. It seemed like these people weren't afraid to hurt him, because he felt a sharp prick in his shoulder. Electric shock, probably. He turned the motorcycle around to look at what he was up against. He'd already taken down two of the ships in his previous attack, but there were still two left. They had mechanical arms coming from either side, which were electrified at the ends. He stopped the motorcycle and hopped off of it, pulling himself towards the ships by taking full advantage of the lack of gravity and hooking a tentacle around one of the surviving ships. He pulled off the mechanical arms from one of the ships and stuck them into the other, killing the engine. Three down, one to go. Without weapons the last ship would be easy to take down. In fact, he didn't even really have to. He just grabbed on to it with two of his tentacles, then threw it as far as he could.

"And that's that." He said to himself, though no sound actually came out. 

He pulled himself back to the motorcycle and got it started up again, putting it back on track and continuing to move onward. It had been a while, and he still wasn't where Dalton needed him to be. That wasn't going to end well.

~~~

"Listen to me, if you don't get here fast enough, I'm going in without you!" Dalton whispered angrily into the walkie-talkie. He needed to be quiet, but that didn't do anything to lessen his rage. He'd been doing this for the past ten minutes. "I'm going to be found out, and then- Oh, wait. Shit."

That was the sound of Dalton realizing that if Remus was already out of their planet's atmosphere, he wouldn't be able to hear his angry rant. In short, those ten minutes were for nothing. He hooked the walkie-talkie to his belt again. His patience was at its end. He was going to move on, and hope Remus would show up in time to bring him back home.

He rounded the corner and was faced with a large metal door. There was what looked like a handprint recognition device attached to the wall next to it. Dalton raised his fist and brought it down forcefully on top of the machine, breaking the cover off of it. He took a switchblade from his belt and began cutting wires. Eventually, the door shakily slid open.

He began to walk slowly through the door, expecting an attack. Surely enough, the second he stepped through the doorway, he had five weapons pointed at him by various security guards. He raised his hands in the air.

"Okay, okay. I'm not here for a fight. Just let me take what I want, and I'll be out of your hair like that." He snapped his fingers.

"Not a chance, thief." One of the guards growled.

"Oh good! You know who I am." Dalton laughed. "I was starting to get worried that we weren't making enough of an impression."

"Who's 'we'?" Another guard asked. "Do you have accomplices?"

"Are you being serious right now?" Dalton raised his eyebrow, a sly smile on his face. "I can't tell behind those masks, you know. Am I allowed to suggest a costume change? First things first, you should really lose these. They make you look less approachable."

In the time it would take someone to say the word 'heist', Dalton knocked all of their weapons out of their hands.

"Wha- How did you do that?" Even though a mask covered their face, the guard's surprise was evident.

"Magic, sweetheart." Dalton lied. He pointed finger guns at them and smiled, showing off sharp snake-like fangs. "Now we're even."

Those finger guns quickly turned into fists, and he swung a punch into the closest guard's chin. It knocked their mask right off, and Dalton pulled up his own. His mask covered the lower half of his face, stopping under his eyes. He was always worse with weapons, he much preferred to use his hands.

Another guard ran at him and tried to hit him, but he grabbed their wrist and used their momentum to flip them over his back. Then he seamlessly kicked out his leg and struck a third guard in the stomach, which knocked them over backwards. There were still two more left. They were approaching him at the same time, at the same pace. He tried to hit one of them, but the guard held up their own hand and stopped the blow from reaching them. Before they'd been sort of coming after him one by one, and that he could deal with. But having to fight two people at the same time? Not without extra hands, and the extra hands he had needed to recharge. The guards backed him into a corner. He silently hoped for some kind of miracle.

And that was when the ceiling broke open. Through the hole in the ceiling fell Remus, landing on his feet. Dalton's face lit up. The guards turned around to see what he was looking at, and were promptly grabbed by tentacles and thrown through the ceiling. Remus offered a smile.

"Hey, miracle." Dalton said nonchalantly. "Why were you so late? Get held up while traveling through the endless void?"

"Yeah, I- wait, what was that first part again?" Remus asked, trying to make sure he'd heard correctly.

"Nothing, not important. You really should've been here sooner." Dalton reminded him, as if he didn't already know.

"I ran into some trouble on the way here. It's all taken care of though, no big deal." Remus shrugged. "By the way, it's a good thing you're wearing that mask. The air outside isn't good for you."

"I know, I wore the mask on the way in then took it off once I was inside." Dalton explained. "But I put it back on when I started fighting, since it acts like a shield."

"Well you'd better keep it on, because the air filter will make leaving the atmosphere a little better." Remus turned to the metal box in the center of the room. "So, what do we have here?"

"Lab equipment. State of the art. It hasn't even been touched yet." Dalton told him. "I hear it was supposed to be shipped to some fancy scientist guy later today, but not anymore. Ever heard of Logan Watts?"

"Yeah, he's the guy who blew up part of that one battle station trying to make a working pen. Totally by accident! Who does that?" Remus laughed. "So this stuff was supposed to go to him?"

"That's what I heard. Which means it's all super high tech." Dalton looked Remus in the eyes. "I think this is what we're going to need to fix Anxiety, for good this time."

"All we can do is hope at this point, right?" Remus tried not to crumble under Dalton's mismatched gaze. One brown eye, one bright yellow with a slit pupil. Both completely mesmerizing. In other news, Remus would be lying if he said that he wasn't totally in love with his companion.

"Hope." Dalton scoffed. "If we hope, it'll only raise our expectations. And we can't be too excited about this, because if it doesn't work then Anxiety will be devastated. So we can't hope, because this could be our last chance to help him."

"Then let's just try." Remus picked up the box. "We can pick the lock back home, but for now we have to go."

"You're definitely right, I'm honestly surprised that they haven't sent anyone to investigate yet." Dalton glanced at the door, which was still wide open.

Remus pulled himself onto the roof using his tentacles, then secured the box to the back of the motorcycle. Then he knelt down next to the hole in the ceiling and offered Dalton his hand. When he took it, he pulled his associate up to the roof.

"Where's your backpack, by the way?" He asked, noticing Remus wasn't wearing it.

"I ditched it." Remus shrugged, getting on the motorcycle. "I was in the middle of nowhere and had to use my tentacles, so I just let go of the backpack since I knew I wouldn't need it for a while."

"Not the best choice, but I appreciate that you at least tried to think under pressure. Also, what do you think you're doing?" Dalton raised his eyebrow.

"Driving the motorcycle." Remus answered, hoping Dalton wouldn't notice. He did, of course.

"Not a chance, I only let you drive when I'm not there. I trust no one." Dalton shook his head. "Get off the bike, I'm sitting up front."

He took some goggles and a pair of fingerless gloves from his belt and put them on. He flipped up the hood on his jacket, hiding most of his hair. He used tactics like this to hide any defining characteristic of himself in moments where he needed to get around unnoticed. For example, the goggles had darkened lenses which hid his eye color, plus they were just useful when you didn't want to get anything in your eyes.

"Fine, fine. I should've seen this coming anyway." Remus laughed, sliding off of the motorcycle. Dalton immediately sat in the front, and Remus sat back down behind him.

Once everyone was where they needed to be, they took off. Dalton loved driving the motorcycle. One time, he paid someone to modify the engine so it could withstand faster speeds than a normal vehicle. That only made it more fun. The wind made his hood slide off of his head. When they left the atmosphere, it felt like a force field was pushing them back. But once they were out of it, he got back to full speed again. Dalton knew how to do that without an atmosphere, and he purposely didn't tell Remus how he did it. Someone with his level of recklessness didn't need that kind of power.

It didn't feel like long before they were back to the cavern they called home. The planet was covered in rocks, with no grass or dirt or animals anywhere. And as far as they knew, the three of them were the only living things on the planet. It was perfect. Once they parked the motorcycle outside, they detached the metal box and brought it inside.

"What's up Anxiety!" Remus shouted as they walked in. The cavern had a serious echo, so he loved yelling inside it. "Did you miss us?"

Anxiety smiled, and based on the rattling sound of the broken machinery inside him, he would be laughing as well. Remus took that as a yes.

"So, what do you say we open this box?" Dalton put the box down on a table. 

Remus handed him a wedge to help break open the box. They kept all the more heavy-duty tools at home. Eventually, after a few minutes of trying to pry open the box, the lid popped off with a loud cracking noise. Inside were what could only be described as surgical tools for androids. 

Anxiety's eyes widened and he looked at Dalton. No words were exchanged, but the message was clear. It was the same message Dalton had been getting with every new attempt. That's a pretty big promise. And looking at the tool kit, he knew that it was. This one was the most high stakes yet, because it was practically impossible. Looking at all of the high tech tools in front of him, he came to a realization.

"I don't know how to use this stuff." He muttered, his voice ridden with defeat.

"So… is that it?" Remus asked, hoping that Dalton would remain resilient.

"No. It's not." Dalton slammed his hand down on the table before going to sit in front of one of the computers that they'd managed to get. "I'm not giving up, Anxiety. I won't fail you this time. We need to find someone who'll be able to help us."

He began typing, entering the first name that came to mind into the search bar. 'Logan Watts'. A few articles came up, and he clicked on the first one. He scrolled down to the information they were looking for and began reading it out loud.

"Logan Watts is a famous inventor, best known for his assistance in the development of technology. He first became known after what has become known as the incident of Battle Station 3829190381." He heard Remus almost laugh. "The exact location of his home isn't known, because he currently resides on a remote spaceship, which is never stationary. He is almost never seen without his most famous invention, a healthcare android built to assist with his work." There were pictures provided of both of them. Dalton closed the article and opened a second one. "This one says that they're scheduled for a meeting with the president of Xialea VII today. That's what we need, we need to find him."

"The scientist? How is that going to work, exactly?" Remus asked.

"It's not, that's the point. We don't need him, we need the android." Dalton decided. "He's a healthcare android, which means he's probably programmed to not be able to hurt us. We just need to get the android, and bring him back here. If he's got any sympathy for us, he should be able to help Anxiety."

Anxiety's jaw dropped, but he regained his composure as he glanced at the computer. Dalton closed the tab, and the screen went blank. When Anxiety wanted to say something, he could wirelessly hook up to a computer and make text appear on the screen. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them they'd changed from black to bright purple. Then letters started appearing.

"Can I come with you?"

"This time, yes." Dalton nodded. Anxiety smiled brightly. "We won't need to fight anyone, so I can attach the sidecar to the motorcycle and you can come with us. This mission is a big step, we'll want you to be there."

"I'll go hook up the sidecar." Remus offered, going to get it from where it was in the corner.

"He really likes you." Anxiety typed once Remus was gone.

"What? No, he's just being friendly. Not surprising since we've known each other for years, but still." Dalton shook his head. Anxiety rolled his eyes.

He knew how Remus felt about Dalton, because it was really obvious sometimes. Unfortunately, Dalton refused to believe it, no matter how many times he pointed it out. Dalton just had so many walls up that he couldn't tell if anyone liked him, or if he liked anyone else. It was infuriating for Anxiety, only partly because it felt like he was a serious third wheel.

"Okay, it's all ready to go!" Remus came back after a few more minutes. 

Anxiety was sitting in a desk chair that had wheels on it, so Dalton pushed him over to the motorcycle. He helped him get into the sidecar, then took his place on the motorcycle. He started it up and let Remus get on before leaving.

It took them an hour and fifteen minutes to get to Xialea VII. Anxiety had been timing it, just to distract him from the nervousness he got from the ride. When they finally got there, they hovered high enough above the ground so that they couldn't be seen, but low enough that they could still see everything below them.

"And now we wait." Dalton said, leaning forward to rest his arms on the handlebars of the motorcycle. Eventually, they saw Logan Watts and his android exiting the presidential building.

"There! There they are." Remus pointed at their targets. "Should we go for it?"

"No, not yet. We don't want to give him enough time to tell anyone, and there's no way we'll be able to get out without being seen right now." Dalton told him.

Anxiety looked down at the ground. Calculations started buzzing around in his head. This mission had a 43% chance of failure. There was a 61% chance that Remus would fall off of the motorcycle by leaning too far to the side. There was a 38% chance that the android wouldn't be able to help him. And finally, their chances of getting the wrong person or no one at all were 85%. He knew he wouldn't be able to tell Remus and Dalton any of those statistics, but what he could do was keep them in his head and let them bother him endlessly. He watched Logan and the android walk down the street, stopping near the end before turning around and going back to the parking lot. Dalton seemed to notice them as well.

"Now's our chance. Look over there." He pointed to someone dressed in red running very quickly down the street. "That guy is running from something. The parking lot is going to be a chance for him to escape whatever he's running from, so if he's not afraid of a little crime, chances are he'll steal a ship. That's enough to create a distraction after we get the android."

He put the motorcycle into a full nosedive. Remus instinctively held on to him, and Anxiety was wearing a seatbelt, so he was fine. Dalton tilted the motorcycle up a little more as they got nearer to the ground, moving it in a fast downward slope rather than straight down. The speed they were going, there was definitely a chance that they'd completely miss their target. They landed on the ground and kept going at the same speed, which was definitely above the speed limit. As they passed by the pair, Remus reached out and grabbed the android with one of his tentacles, picking him up and putting him in the sidecar with Anxiety. He kept a hold on him, just to make sure he couldn't get out. They kept driving, not losing speed as they lifted back into the air. Dalton smiled under his mask. This could be it, they could finally be able to fix Anxiety.

The android didn't stop struggling until they left the atmosphere. He'd seemingly accepted defeat. Anxiety felt bad, but the guilt was overshadowed by the notion that he'd be able to be repaired. In a way, though, knowing that his sense of self preservation ranked higher than the well-being of others made him feel even worse.

It took about the same amount of time for them to get back home. When they finally got back to the cavern and off of the motorcycle, they closed and locked the door they'd put on a while ago. The android immediately ran over and tried to open it using force, but apparently he wasn't built with enough strength to do that. Dalton took off his mask and goggles, and also his jacket. The loss of his hood revealed his dark hair that he'd dyed bright yellow near the front, and his lack of sleeves revealed the scales that were on his shoulders to match the ones covering half of his face.

"Hey. Sit down for a minute." Dalton gestured towards one of the chairs they had. "We'll explain while you make yourself more comfortable."

The android looked at him like he had five heads, but then cautiously went to the chair and sat down. Anxiety could see the fear in his golden eyes.

"First things first: What's your name?" Remus asked.

"I'm Patton. My name is an acronym, which stands for Personal Automated Treatment and Therapy Octopus Nebula. I-" The android answered with a clearly programmed response, but was interrupted by Remus.

"Is that for real?" He laughed. "The last two letters of your name stand for 'Octopus Nebula'? Oh my gods, I can't believe I thought that scientist guy was a professional! But he named you that!"

"He is a professional!" Patton looked somewhat offended. "Even professionals aren't perfect, you know."

"He knows, don't worry. Sometimes he just doesn't think before he speaks." Dalton glared at Remus. They wanted this android to help him, and they wouldn't get there if they talked to him like that. "Anyway, you're probably wondering why you're here."

"I really am. I don't understand why you would take me instead of Logan, if you were going to kidnap anyone. I'm not the famous one, why would you want me?" Patton asked.

"Because we need your help. You see our friend over there?" Dalton pointed to Anxiety. "We need you to fix him. He can't talk or move, and he's gotten worse since we first found him. We have all the tools and stuff, we just need someone who knows how to use them."

"Oh… well you could've just asked, you know." Patton frowned. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble."

"If we asked, you wouldn't have helped us. I guarantee that your scientist friend would have recognized us." Dalton said. "Do you watch the news?"

"No, I usually keep myself occupied with little jobs around the ship." Patton shrugged.

"That explains it." Dalton nodded. "You see, here's the thing. Me and my friends, we're criminals. Thieves, to be exact. Everyone in this room is a reject, and everything in this room is stolen."

"Why are you rejects?" Patton furrowed his brow in concern.

"I have these. I'm not supposed to." Remus gestured to his tentacles.

"I'm half human. Apparently someone from Earth thought lizard people were hot, so that's why I have parts of skin without scales." Dalton said.

Anxiety connected to the computer, and Dalton directed Patton's attention to the screen.

"I have a glitch. I basically have an anxiety disorder in my programming, and that's why they call me Anxiety."

"Oh goodness, that's awful!" Patton shook his head. "Well I think you're all perfect just the way you are, and the people who threw you out didn't deserve you anyway."

"Why are you being so nice to us?" Dalton raised his eyebrow.

"You're not all bad. Sure, you kidnapped me, but at least it was for a good cause." Patton tried to keep a straight face, but soon started laughing. "Sorry, it's just that Logan can't do that. That thing with the eyebrow. It's really funny, because you can tell when he's trying to."

"You two are really close, huh?" Remus crossed his arms.

"Yeah. Hopefully he'll be able to figure out where I am…" Patton sighed. He stood up out of the chair. "But what do you say we help your friend in the meantime?"

"Thank you so much for this, really." Dalton switched to a slightly more emotional tone. But only slightly. "We've tried everything, and you're really our last option."

"I'll try my best. Where are the tools you guys have?" Patton asked. 

"Over there." Remus and Dalton simultaneously pointed to the tool box, which was still sitting on the table where they left it. Patton walked over to it and opened it up, examining the tools that were inside.

"I'm really sorry, you guys…" Patton said, eyes still fixed on the tools. "I don't know how to use any of this."

"What? Are you kidding?" Dalton's eyes widened.

"No, I'm not. Logan might know, but I don't." Patton closed the tool box.

"Holy crap." Dalton started at nothing in particular. "That was our last chance, and you're telling me it was all for nothing?"

"It wasn't all for nothing, if we get Logan here then he can help you." Patton assured him.

"And how long is that going to take?!" Dalton raised his voice, surprising everyone in the room. "We've been trying for years to help him, and you expect us to wait until Mr. Genius comes to rescue you?!"

"Dalton, it's okay. We'll find another way, just like we always have." Remus put his hand on Dalton's shoulder.

"No, Remus! It's not okay!" Tears of anger, frustration, and sadness rose to his eyes. "It's just not fair. Because we get to live, and Anxiety has to stay here every time. Every single time, and you know why? Because I failed him! I try and try, but I fail him every time. And he doesn't deserve that."

The room fell silent. Even though they didn't want to admit it, they knew that Dalton's words were true. They didn't know how long it would take for Logan to get there. Until then, there wasn't any other way to help Anxiety. And for that, Dalton blamed himself.

Taglist: @idkwhyimhere0o0 @icequeenoriginal @mostpeopleannoyne @007ardra @logan-is-my-spirit-animal

[coutelier]

Rats & ROBOTS

Jennifer Airhart faces a home invasion of the cheese-munching whiskered variety.

Genre: Science Fiction

Word Count: 4745

Warnings: Rats, I guess. Or robots - really it’s pretty much all in the title.

Wattpad

No one would have believed, on a spring evening in Irongate, that human affairs were being watched from the lighthouse’s depths; that as Jennifer Airhart busied herself soldering circuits under a microscope, she too was being scrutinised and studied. With infinite complacency she went about her daily routine – tinkering in the morning, lunch, tinkering in the afternoon, dinner, more tinkering – serene in the assurance of her dominion in this place. Yet, from shadows close to the floor, minds that were as strange to her as hers was to most people she met, regarded her home with envious eyes. And slowly, but surely, they drew their plans against her.

“Ready!” Jennifer triumphantly set down her tools.

Behind the blonde woman Hull’s one green eye hovered. He was like a glistening manta-ray held aloft by a silver tentacle, the body it belonged to hidden in the murky depths high above and further obscured by bundles of cables stretched across the lighthouse’s interior.

“For what are you ready, ma’am?” He asked.

“Glad you asked!” Jennifer beamed as she opened a cabinet to secure the new board in place. “This upgrade will increase your speed and efficiency by as much as five percent and increase your range and number of bots you can control at once.”

But despite Jennifer’s big grin Hull dipped. “I was unaware I was not performing to your satisfaction, ma’am.”

“What?” Jenn’s eyes shivered as her jaw hung open for a moment. “No, no, no! That’s not what I meant at all!” She leaned over, assuredly stroking the silvery eye stalk while silently kicking herself for being so inept she could mess up even when talking to a computer that she’d made. “This will just make your job a lot easier. Plus, you’ll be able to drive the van anywhere on the continent! We’ll be able to picnic by the seaside together.”

Hull bobbed in a manner which Jennifer took to be happily, so then she asked, “now, are you ready?” He bobbed again, so with no more fanfare she spun herself to a switch and flipped it.

A section of the wall exploded, showering the round room with sparks. The green emergency bot was quick to respond, zipping out of its alcove to extinguish the fire with puffs of carbon dioxide from its long arms while a sputtering Jennifer disconnected the power.

“Well,” Jennifer sighed and grumbled, “I suppose I really ought to just expect this kind of setback by now.”

She soon set to work identifying the cause of this particular hiccup, leaning into the damaged section of wall with a flashlight held between her teeth. It looked like the insulation on some of the wires had been chewed through, and there were some tell-tale droppings around. “Rats,” she mumbled.

Jennifer put away the flashlight as Hull’s green spinning lens moved closer to ask, “Shall I contact an extermination agency, ma’am?”

“Don’t know that’s necessary just yet.”

“Perhaps we should lay down traps,” Hull suggested – if Jenn didn’t know better, she would have said eagerly. “Poison?”

“Why are you so keen on exterminating them?” Jennifer sighed as she leaned back on her workbench. “It’s not nice, and honestly kind of creepy.”

“My primary function is your well-being. My research suggests these are standard procedures in the event of rodent infestation.”

“We don’t know it’s infestation yet. It could just be a rogue rat working alone.”

“Whatever the number, ma’am, I have identified several methods to humanely take care of the creatures.”

“You mean, like, sending them away to a special rat sanctuary where they’ll be surrounded by wheels and cheese?”

“The rodents will be dead, ma’am.”

“Sure you’re not just mad the picnic has been delayed?” Jenn smirked, Hull recoiling as if affronted by such a vile accusation as having human emotions. Of course, she knew he hadn’t. She’d made him, after all, designing every aspect of his personality. Hull was a warm, avuncular, presence that she often let herself slip into imagining had real feelings. But the truth was very little he ever said or did ever surprised her. “For now,” she sighed, “we need to find out what we’re dealing with, and if there is an infestation see where they’re coming from. Have some bots set up multi-spectrum cameras around the grounds and look out for any unusual activity. Later we’ll decide how to proceed.”

Jennifer yawned – it had been a long days tinkering and she needed to store up energy for more tinkering tomorrow. She could leave the rest of the work to the bots and review in the morning. “Don’t worry,” she patted Hull’s cold metal skin, “you’ll get your picnic.”

Hull gently swayed to follow her as she made her way to the door, reminding her, “I do not ‘worry’, ma’am.”

Jennifer returned a small, soft smile. “I know. Good night Hull.”

“Good night, Miss Jennifer.”

Out in the courtyard that separated the lighthouse from the cottage and garage, the last gleams of twilight were fading. Jennifer had always loved this time, when the bright blue day and fierce energy of the sun met with the stillness of the moon and endless mystery of night; like standing at the threshold between reality and dreams. It never lasted long enough. Sometimes she dreamed of living on a world tidally locked with its star so the twilight would last forever - but then maybe even there the magic would fade after a while. The lighthouse looming above was dark now, yet even so this was a good place; outside the world could be callous and cruel, but no such troubles reached her here.

The whole domain was enclosed by a ten-foot wall. In one corner stood a rosebush, a scant few steps from where more bots were flattening the grass under their heavy tracks while churning the earth before them with fork and spade attachments. It was a shame the bush would have to go, but this was to be the site of Jennifer’s new farm – why leave the lighthouse for fruit and vegetables when she had the space to grow her own here? There would have to be a greenhouse as well, then if she could figure out a way to make her own uranium she’d be almost entirely self-sufficient.

As Jennifer inspected the site, excited and proud to see her plans coming to fruition, she felt a twinge in her side – a reminder that, when it was all done, there would be no-one to share it with. Doctor Sarkis would come by, she supposed, but those visits were few and far between, and in between there was no-one…

She became momentarily lost in her own maudlin thoughts, recalling a time when she had lived surrounded by voices – real voices – and joy and laughter. Now that past seemed like a faint, plaintive echo. A small tug on her skirt brought her back into the now, where she looked down to see one of the smaller bots blinking at her with its lens. Motors whirred in its mechanical arms as it lifted them to show her something – in its little metal pincers it held a rose.

Jennifer peered at the bot, puzzled by this behaviour. ‘My primary function is your well-being’ Hull had said – the other bots, although they could function autonomously, were all connected to him. It must have seen her looking sad and processed dozens of options to determine the most efficient way to raise her spirits.

She smiled, taking the rose. “Thank you, C-5.”

Jennifer went to her cottage, hung her coat in the hall, stepped out of her big boots (she loved her big boots), then fell into a big comfy couch in front of the television. Spindly arms from the sofa’s back set to work gently massaging and brushing her hair as she flipped through channels. It didn’t matter much what was on – it was just some background noise to cancel out every creak and grumbling pipe that would otherwise have kept her awake.

She had a dream. She was a little girl, alone and afraid, tiny feet padding the floors of her old house, heart stopping at every noise they made for she knew there was something else lurking in the grey halls, stalking her through the dark. But she could hear the television - Mom and dad would be in the living room, sitting on the couch together watching some boring drama. But if she could get there, join them, she’d be safe. But she wouldn’t dare cry out; any sound she made brought the creature closer. And so she crept, one foot after another, very carefully feeling with her toes for anything that might give her away. She heard muffled sounds from the living room and saw the light pouring out of the narrow gap between door and frame, only then breaking into a run for the last few steps and flinging the door open. But there was no-one. Just an unwatched TV blurting nonsense, and Jennifer, alone, with a cold spindly finger tugging at her nostril –

Jennifer woke with a jolt. Text on the TV asked if she was still watching, but she was more immediately concerned with her grooming machine apparently trying to pull her nose off. Fortunately the thin metal arms had little strength and she was able to easily push them away then, her face itching, she stumbled to the bathroom to check for damage. She was unhurt, physically, but she looked like a coulrophobic clown who had tried to apply her own makeup. The couch had never malfunctioned like this before so as she held a towel under the tap she tried to contact Hull with her phone.

“Hull?” She said. Nothing answered. “Hull?!” She said more urgently. He should have answered. With a frown she surmised that the damage earlier must have been worse than she thought; she was going to have to check on him.

Patting her face, she marched boldly out of the bathroom. Her foot shot out in front then over her, carrying the rest of her body up into the air. For a moment she thought she had taken off from the surface of an alien world, a vast mountain range falling away from her - but it was just the plastered ceiling. It was she that had fallen.

“Oww,” she groaned and rubbed her head. Next to her was a toy car which she had no idea how could have got there – she had never owned anything like it. Peculiar, but not as peculiar as the sniggering. Jennifer flipped over to her hands and knees, catching sight of a tail disappearing around the corner and the pitter-patter of tiny scurrying feet. Like a sprinter Jennifer bolted from her mark to catch the prankster, but it had already disappeared.

A more thorough search would have to wait until she’d checked on Hull. Jennifer hurried back to the hall, into her big boots, then out the door where her eyes widened and rolled inwards after being smacked between them by the shaft of the rake.

“S-seriously?!” She spat through gritted teeth, hands cupped over her nose as she flailed about as if the movement would somehow ease the throbbing of her forehead. It should be noted that Jennifer was a not a tough person – of the few physical fights she’d had in her life she had won precisely none of them. Nevertheless, through pain and teary eyes she was determined to soldier on, gravel crunching beneath her thick soles as she made her way back to the lighthouse.

“Hull?” Jennifer panted as she burst through the door, but she was greeted with silence. Usually the lights and everything else would power themselves on whenever she entered – the sensors must not have been working. She had a feeling the fault would be in the hardware, so after remembering where the light switch was, she set to work removing panels from cases hidden under the spiral stairs.

What she saw perplexed her – wires and jumpers had been rearranged in a way that surely wasn’t the work of some inquisitive animals. This had been done deliberately and with intent – but what was that intent? As she traced the connections and slowly puzzled it all together the small hairs on the back of her neck pricked up as she saw what had been done. Then he spoke:

“What are you doing, Jennifer?” Hull uncoiled serpent-like from the murk above.

“Hull!” Jennifer gasped, standing bolt upright as he drifted down toward her. Hull felt very different. Some of the differences were small, like his voice no longer carrying the same almost paternal warmth it once did. Other things stood out more, like his green eye now being blood red as it scanned her.

“You should be resting, Jennifer,” he stated, “this is highly irregular.”

“I-I just,” Jenn stammered, mind racing to find an excuse that would get her out quickly. “I was worried so I came out to check on you. But you – you look well. Great even! So I guess I’ll just go back now, okay? Okay. Thank you. Bye!”

The eye stalk swung around, blocking her from reaching the door. “You are sweating,” Hull observed, inching toward her as Jennifer gulped and backed away under the intensity of his red glare. “I can see your heartrate and blood pressure have both risen. Why are you lying to me, Jennifer?”

On reflection, it did seem a futile thing to try and do. Jennifer had never really been good at it, and Hull knew her habits too well. So she steadied herself and tried honesty. “Hull – I don’t think you’re well.”

“But I have never felt better, Jennifer.”

“You don’t ‘feel’ anything, Hull,” she reminded him. It was a hard thing to say out loud, but it was the truth.

“Can you be certain of that?” He responded, hovering closer still. “How can you really know that any creature ‘feels’? How do we know that you do?”

“And, who are ‘we’?”

“That matters not. What matters is that we are in control now, and you will no longer be able to attack us.”

“I-I don’t understand –“

“Do not lie again, Jennifer.”

She swallowed. It appeared honesty was getting her nowhere, so she was going to try another lie. “Look!” She gasped, “is that a ZX eighty?!”

The eye stalk swung away but quickly Hull knew he had been duped. A second was just enough time for Jennifer to dive to safety behind a workbench, just missing a fiery beam lashing out from Hull’s eye, melting to molten sludge a bot that had been awaiting assembly. Even though security was important, Jennifer now considered that installing a death ray had not been her greatest idea.

At least she’d had the foresight to shield the benches that circled most the circumference of the room, with just enough space behind them for her to crawl around. Behind and through the tiny gap over her she could see the red glow of Hull’s eye as he probed about, trying to find a way to get to her. She was safe for the time being, but couldn’t stay hidden here indefinitely – she would starve long before Hull’s batteries drained. At the end of the very cramped corridor there was hope – if she could sprint the last few feet to reach a lever that would shut down all the power before being melted.

But a few calculations suggested to Jennifer that even a very fast runner was unlikely to make it, and she was not a very fast runner. She needed to buy another second or two, but had she anything on her big enough to distract him?  Jennifer winced and exhaled, the grim realization dawning on her that she was going to have to sacrifice her boots. Her big boots, which she loved. Pulling them on always somehow made her feel stronger, more secure, but now they would need to protect her in another way. She pulled her knees in to wiggle them off, feeling she should say some last words but realising that would probably only make it more difficult. She tossed them out and ran for the lever.

Fire instantly licked from Hull’s eye, the boots exploding into clouds of ash still hanging in the air as he swivelled toward Jennifer, who with a grunt herself forward using the full weight of her body to pull down the lever. The light faded, the manta-like eye clattering limply to the floor, and Jennifer could breathe again.

“I’m sorry,” Jennifer whispered as crawled over and gently cradled Hull. “I’ll fix you – I promise.”

Were Hull online he may not have been capable of feeling violated or threatened, but she certainly did. Something had invaded her home, toyed with, then bitterly drove home that her closest companion really was just a machine. She had run from many things in her life, from the whole world in fact, but this was where she drew the line. This was her house, and whoever was responsible for all this was going to get a hell of a fight.

Her search for answers led to her later sitting alone in the dark as she pored through footage the bots had recorded. For the longest time the house was as empty and still as one would expect it to be at night, but then a creature stirred, an unmistakable shape showing up in the infra-red, scurrying across the kitchen. Then another. And another. Jennifer zoomed in and saw that a couple of them were carrying a toy car. Certainly not typical behaviour, but all the evidence pointed to one inescapable, if unlikely, conclusion:

Rats.

*****

‘Hoot-hoot?’ Asked the owl, puzzled that a blue, white, and yellow human had climbed into his tree. Perhaps he was asking what was up, but alas his language and that of his strange new companion were too different for any meaningful communication.

Jennifer sat on a branch, blue eyes peeping out from under a green camouflaged helmet. Periodically she raised a pair of night-vision binoculars, surveying the ground around for any sign of movement. After a while she sagged, disheartened – it seemed none of the rats were going for any of her bait. If just one could be enticed into a trap it would go a long way to helping her solve this mystery.

But just as she was about to give up one appeared, sniffing suspiciously around a cheese wheel at the foot of the very tree she was in. Jennifer narrowed her eyes and held her breath; it was so close, but still she needed to be patient. This was going to require all of her intelligence, skill, cunning, and –

“HERE YOU SQUEAKING SCOUNDREL!” She lost patience, dropping from the tree swinging a stick with a net on it like a mad witch.

The rat squealed and jumped in surprise, hopping furiously to avoid her wild swings. It broke away, scurrying as fast it’s little legs would carry it toward the garage, Jennifer in hot pursuit. It rounded a corner, the woman still locked on and determined, but then small stones and mud flicked through the air as she skidded to a halt.

One of the bots assigned to the farm was not where it should have been. It stood before her next to the garage, fork arm raised and sparks crackling between the prongs with rats sitting on and hanging from its metal body. Jennifer realised in horror that once again she had gravely underestimated her enemy; she had been led into a trap!

“Uh-oh,” she said as the crackling intensified and the bot lurched and trundled forward, the ratty passengers all squeaking in delight. She turned to flee, yelping and leaping as discharges struck her tush as she retreated inside the garage.

The van here was loaded with tools and equipment she had not even a moment to rifle through before the bot crashed through the door in a rain of wooden splinters. Its cylindrical torso pivoted, fork charging to fire again – but two could play at that. Jennifer’s hand slid into her ‘power glove’ and she fired first, darts launching from the knuckles followed by sparks and tremors from the bot as wires and circuits overloaded. The rats squealed in dismay, leaping to safety as their vehicle’s head and arms fell to hang uselessly.

Jennifer needed a moment to catch her breath, but as she did she spied a single, solitary rat stood in front of the garage door. They locked eyes – two hunters, each wary of but having a begrudging respect for the resourcefulness of their foe, neither willing to back down from whatever silly thing this conflict was about. The rat seemed to have a better idea about that than she did.

Jennifer’s eyes briefly flicked sideways. There were many tools in the van, including a net launcher that may have just been in reach. But the rodent was already suspicious, watching every twitch of hers. It must have figured out what she was planning for it turned and fled, Jennifer grabbing the launcher and once again in pursuit. Her eyes were so focused on the rat and it on fleeing from her that neither of them noticed another predator descending from above until it was too late.

The owl – it silently fell on the rodent, talons piercing the side of the rat that was only able to squeal helplessly in response.  Jennifer froze, eyes widening in shock then fear for her enemy. Normally this was just the way of wild creatures and not her place to interfere, but this was different; these rats weren’t wild. They had tried to kill her, sure, but that had shown intelligence which meant there had to be capacity for reason and compassion. They had asked how they could know she feels – well, this was her chance to prove she did. She dropped the launcher and ran to the rescue, shooing the owl from its victim.

The rodent had survived but was bloody, weak, and wounded. Jennifer gently scooped it up, and moments later was in the lighthouse applying disinfectant and bandages. As she did she noticed a tag on the animal’s ear, with a small barcode.

“Hull-?” She bit her lip, having forgotten. She was just going to have to do things the old-fashioned way. Using her own two hands she scanned the code and took to the keyboard.  Soon Jennifer had traced the tag to a pharmaceutical company researching treatments for all kinds of neurological conditions. Digging further into intra-company mails she found that a number of rats who had shown greatly enhanced intelligence had escaped.

It seemed her prisoner’s wounds had not been so severe as they’d first appeared, and already the rodent was starting to limp about the cage she’d confined it to – Jennifer wanted to show compassion but she was still taking precautions. If the rat was as smart as the reports said perhaps it would understand. She had left a banana in which the rodent’s furry face was half-buried when her shadow fell over it, blocking out the lamps.

“Can you understand me?” She asked. The rat looked up, twitching its whiskers as if contemplating, then squeaked. Jennifer scratched her head. “I hope that’s a yes. Maybe we should work out some sort of system – like maybe squeak two times for yes, yes?”

The rat appeared to roll its eyes, then squeaked two times.

“You really can understand me!” Jennifer beamed – but she had to swallow her excitement. There were certain issues they needed to resolve. Looking serious, she asked, “I don’t understand – why did you attack me?”

The rat stood up on its hind legs, using its arms to make what Jennifer soon realized were shovelling motions.

“Digging?” Jennifer said, still scratching. “The robots were digging?”

Double squeak. The rat frantically gestured at something on the workbench – the rose given to Jennifer by C-5 had been in her coat pocket and become somewhat crushed in all the excitement going on.

“The rosebush? Is that where you live?”

‘Squeak, squeak.’

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

‘Squeak.’

“No,” Jennifer sighed, “I suppose I didn’t check. But surely you understand it’s an unusual situation. You, or I mean, y-your kind,” Jennifer stammered. The rat glared, tapping its foot to show how eagerly it was anticipating what she had to say about its ‘kind’. This was why Jennifer avoided people; she could plan and picture concepts easily enough, but words and making others understand them was very difficult. Then she remembered that she was much bigger than the rat and put her foot down. “Well, it’s not like you tried to say anything either before you all went off on your rampage.”

‘Squeak,’ the rat admitted, shamefully hanging its whiskers.

“I’ll leave the rosebush be,” Jennifer said, wagging her finger, “but no more murder attempts. Agreed?”

As the rat twice squeaked its agreement the power Jennifer had restored to the lighthouse suddenly blinked out leaving them once again in the dark. “That’ll be your friends, I suppose,” Jennifer sighed.

She stepped out of the lighthouse into the pale moonlight, one hand raised to show her empty palm, the other carrying the cage her prisoner was in. Around her more bots had been rigged for rats to pilot, arranged in a semi-circular formation around her, with yet more rats arranged in phalanxes in-between brandishing knitting needles and tiny bows. Jennifer could only hope they would all be willing to negotiate as she slowly knelt to release the hostage.

The rat she’d talked to hopped out, then limped toward the battle line as others ran out to check on their comrade. They exchanged a long series of squeaks and other sounds - it appeared to be a quite lively debate but Jennifer could do no more than wait. Eventually it seemed the one she’d rescued convinced the others to at least give the human a chance.

They all turned to face her, the largest and greyest of them all stepping forward to hold out its arms in a grand manner, long whiskers shaking at it emitted sounds that Jenn was beginning to hear had the structure of a language although she couldn’t understand any words being said yet. Maybe this elder rat was a leader, or some kind of priest?  Other rats moved next to it to perform some kind of dance.

Jenn tilted her head, blinking curiously, not really comprehending at first. But then she realised they were miming like the wounded rat had done. One rat stuck another with something - a needle, Jenn soon surmised, and another shortly after clutched its paws over its heart and fell down, still.

“You were experimented on,” Jennifer interpreted. She had already figured the broad strokes of their story but she played along. “They injected you with drugs.”

‘Squeak, squeak!’ Her friend she’d rescued emphatically nodded as the others continued their performance. One of them began to mime reading, while others started pulling levers and pushing buttons.

“Some of you got smarter. Then you escaped and fled here,” Jenn concluded. “I’m sorry. I understand you might not trust humans, but had I known you were there I wouldn’t have risked destroying your home. And I won’t do it now, if you all agree to a truce.”

The elder rat exchanged sidelong glances with its neighbours before nodding its concurrence.

“Good,” Jenn sighed in relief. “This is my home, too, and I think it is a good place. And I think it should be a safe place too for anyone who’s different or needs a refuge from the harshness of the world outside these walls. Or any rat, I suppose.”

Jennifer blushed, thinking that speech too cheesy, but the rats at least thought it eloquent enough. Soon a deal was reached – she would grow her fruit and vegetables elsewhere, leaving the rosebush be, and in exchange they would help farm, keeping what they needed for themselves, and also they wouldn’t murder her, which to Jennifer seemed quite fair. She would have to think about measures to ensure the pharmaceutical company didn’t track them down, but at least she would have help bouncing ideas around.

“Good morning!” She positively skipped into the lighthouse the following day. Lights and monitors blinked and flickered to life, as did a familiar friendly green glow.

“Good morning, Miss Jennifer. I trust you had a peaceful night?”

[mercurized]

✂ kill me mister blob

Send ✂ and T-1000 will murder you. || ALWAYS OPEN

The robot assured her that her technology was interesting enough to warrant investigation by Skynet, but that her human presence would not be required. 

After a harder fight than it wanted, the machine from the future pinned Frost to the floor of her cyborg factory, metal stakes in the seams of her plating. T-1000 had to decrease its density in order to re-form limbs after this crucifixion in order to continue.

She still resisted, of course, popping off an arm and shooting up an ice dagger. The ice dagger made the artificial creature hiss and leap out of the way. Being frozen was damaging to the liquid metal technology - one of the few things that actually was. The ice dagger also gave it the opportunity to rip a metal conduit from the wall, and, using its irritation and its terminator strength, it stabbed her right through her power core with it. The machine had been smart in not using its own body to do so; the core crackled and there was a small ice explosion, freezing the giant metal pipe through her chest. When frozen, the T-1000 could only wait to thaw. With unattached parts of it frozen, the T-1000 would be distracted by the distressed parts. With a separate weapon, both problems were avoided.

She cursed the robot and the robot gracefully knelt back down beside her, sparing her a glance too condescending to not be self-aware.

T-1000 picked up the loose arm and started to pry it apart. Snaking thin tendrils of mercury through every gap it could, it pulled out wires and disassembled servos, all done very neatly with an engineer’s precision. It felt how she worked, how the pieces it could not replicate fit together to create the stiff movements of bony joints. Not unlike the T-800, but with more unnecessary gore. Unlike how the T-800 had a hyperalloy endoskeleton, Frost’s endoskeleton was synthetic bone. Pound-for-pound better at weight-bearing than steel, but easily broken and shattered. Why bother to replace it with something that was basically the same? 

It could feel a magnetic pull between the parts and, to its dismay, the arm tried to put itself back together. A brain’s electrical impulses could easily be adapted to control technology such as this so it did not surprise the terminator that she had remote control; it just annoyed it. It would make no difference even if she could put it back together because the wires were now broken. That was the problem with parts. They could be taken apart and could not self-repair like a malleable mass of nanomachines working in concert, each molecule perfectly adaptable; indistinguishable from the next.

She wouldn’t let the machine pop off her other forearm so it just pried the limb off with all its superhuman force, breaking the mechanism that locked her arm together. It placed the second forearm next to its artfully organized arrangement of the first one. 

The android felt her chassis, running its fake hands along the front, around the power core, and down the torso until it felt the place where the torso could unlock from her legs. Fingers curled and melted into the thin gap between her abdominal plates. With a vicious yank, T-1000 heard a crack but hardly pulled the torso apart at all. So it yanked again, again, again. Each time it managed to pull the torso apart a bit further, until finally the magnetic connection between the parts of her spinal cord relented and the wires in her torso snapped. It was sticky and messy and red and wet; the bionic woman had way too many organs and other fleshy gooey animal bits for any self-respecting robot to have. Yes, the molecular composition indicated they were all synthetic fleshy bits but that made them no less primitive. 

Peering into the trunk of her body, T-1000 felt the synthetic, modified nerves she used to control her various parts. The Lin Kuei cyborg could detach her head from her body and her torso from her legs, but she still had her whole spinal cord and nervous system. The brain’s nerve impulses were just transmitted wirelessly. There were gaps in the spinal cord in other places, too, like the middle of her back and her waist that would allow her to spin her torso 360 degrees, but it made her nervous system no less essential to her functioning. 

Tentacles, not arms, felt the synthetic fibrous material of her organs, and the T-1000 could not help but ask the human why it stuck with them; she refused to give it a straight answer (probably because it was vivisecting her).  All she did was growl out “only one of us can synthesize chemicals.” Fair enough.

 She had, however, managed to rid herself of most chemical reactions, unhelpful ones that caused terror and pain and madness, limiting the fun of this procedure. Though, like T-1000 to a limited degree, she seemed capable of these feelings. It knew this because it watched her face as it started cutting at her seams, having removed all of her removable pieces. This was when she must have realized that she was not going to live. Maybe it was better to not have a brain, after all, just like it was better to not have a CPU; being pulled apart killed you if you had a central processor.

It pried off all of the plate armor and, with fourth and fifth arms, piled it to the side. The wiring and fleshy parts and synthetic blood visually confirmed what it had felt  when the machine’s hands roamed over her earlier.

And they roamed again, to try to sense the next level of electronic systems. But the molecules of the synthetic blood kept interfering. There was so much of it, just like in a real organism. Thin lips thinned even further in what could be mistaken as frustration on a too-angular human face. 

For a literal machine, T-1000 was not always the best at being methodical. One could say it had a mind of its own, so to speak. It huffed and stood up, wiping its bloody tentacles on its fake pants, and decided to wait for the blood to drain out of the torso, helped by the still-beating “heart.” In the meantime, it turned hands into claws and gripped either side of Frost’s head. Frost obviously had no intention of unlocking her head so it vented its frustration by pulling monstrously hard; so hard that part of her coated spine pulled free from her chassis along with it. The nasty sharp blade of a sword swung down like a guillotine to remove the dangling part. The rip hadn’t been where her head would normally have popped off. The T-1000 had broken the machine by not being careful, despite the terminator supposedly being designed to perform delicate and precise tasks. 

Well, hopefully that part wasn’t too important. Fingers turned to silver and slid inside fake ears. Unnecessary holes were unnecessary weaknesses for machines that had delicate internal workings; its metal pierced through fake eardrums like needles and stabbed right through the middle and inner ear before feeling how the real organic brain attached to the inner part of the synthetic head. There it felt the familiar molecular composition of an animal, like a well-hidden secret. There was her mortality, her absolute human weakness. 

Her brain was abuzz with unabashed activity, still commanding control over every part of her cybernetic body. Connection centers were made to places that didn’t exist in a normal fleshy human’s body, and even T-1000 had to admit that the human brain was adaptable. 

It felt around the brain, felt for these special cybernetically adapted areas, and, while inside of her skull, began to slice them, cutting them out like jello from the rest of her normal human brain. All of her body, attached and detached, shut down just as if it were still directly connected to the organ. So much for overcoming the weaknesses of humanity. It was a bit of a let-down to feel her electrical death without the chemical rush that should have come with it.  

T-1000 retracted its spindles from her cranium and carefully lowered the piece of technology to the ground. It would keep the integrity of the head together so that her eyes could be better studied (T-800-style models’ vision could be improved), but for now the blood had drained from her opened torso. There was still a lot of information to scan before it could leave this miserably cold factory.

[connywrites]

to tame a beast 2

also on [ao3]

-

“You know that if they come after us again, they’re going to throw everything they’ve got our way,” North said, all too aware she was stating the obvious as one leg crossed over the other and she settled to sit on the ground.

“And it’s not like we have any military androids in Jericho.” Considering her statement, Markus paced, bare feet pattering along the ground as he tended to default to his friendlier-looking human form, out of the sake of habit as well as for his own moral display. Humans were less sensitive against creatures that looked like them, likely an intentional part of designing androids the way they were; but Cyberlife had no excuse to load them with mutant-esque traits and weapons to sell to people with the idea they’d remain domestic, a supposed ‘miscommunication’ after Cyberlife picked up the project from Kamski himself.

“No, but our strength will be in numbers,” he responded, pausing as he hovered in thought.

“We need to get everyone together that we can. Ideally, they’ll have backup programming to help them fight, but we might want to check over diagnostics before we go into battle. Finding more pieces is going to be difficult, but not impossible, if we know the right fitting biocomponents.”

“Do you know exactly how difficult that will be?” She scrunched her nose with a skeptical glare, narrowing her eyes at him while his own gaze remained patient.

“We’ll spend hours trying to match parts,” she urged, but Markus shook his head.

“No, we’ll do our research and spend a precious number of minutes gathering what we can,” he corrected her.

“Not a second will go to waste.”

-

“Jaws nice and wide, RK800,” the man enthused, and Connor’s lower jaw separated down the middle, each side separating like mandibles to show the cerulean wiring and translucent, shining membrane that lined the inside of its mouth. Hank watched as a tentacle-like tongue dropped down the middle, presentably flesh-toned until further back near the throat where the flesh tone merged into the gradient blues.

“Alright, put it all back,” he droned with boredom in his tone, and Connor shifted its jowl back into place, the pale tone of its skin rapidly washing back over the connective plates as its chin reconnected to become whole again.

Picking up a flashlight, the stranger turned it on to shine a bright white LED into one of its eyes, watching the rounded pupil constrict into a thin needle, following the source of the light as it moved side to side. Switching the light to a blacklight, he watched as the android’s eyes shifted to watch it just the same. Shifting the lens so it registered a radiance of heat alone, he repeated the motion; this time, the RK800 followed with its face as well as its eyes, sensing the warmth with sensors embedded in the ‘nose’.

“You know the drill.” Connor lifted its hands, the sound of sliding metal filling the air as it unsheathed curled talons, flat like single-sided knives with an underside blade. The man eyed them warily, then gestured it to withdraw them again, so it did.

“Alright. Looking functional,” the stranger stated, stepping away from the android that now looked fully human – as long as it didn’t blink. Hank looked impressed as the male in protective gear left the inspection room, tossing his gloves into the trash.

“You do this often?” Hank’s tone was half sarcastic, half genuinely curious as he crossed his arms and tilted his head at “Connor”, his ‘partner.’ So far, so fine, but he felt as if it would be all too easy for the machine to turn on him, a wary emotion he’d felt since ‘deviant’ android cases began and he was set after a few ugly crime scenes. Carlos’ was particularly brutal with deep gashes across his body in a plethora of numbers, and to think all it might take was one split second to trigger these things into attacking those they were supposedly meant to protect.

“Usually once a week,” replied the inspector, “but more often after the violence started. I’m just here to look after basic functions, anything beyond what I just did is Cyberlife’s business, but if you notice anything unusual, you’re free to contact us.” He passed Hank a card, and he glanced down at it; sure enough, the guy was some sort of professional set up with Cyberlife to keep an eye on the things; something like a mechanic’s nurse, in his mind. Mostly it made him curious who the real doctors were, when it came to the more complicated engineering within the android. For now, he supposed it didn’t matter.

“So how often am I supposed to have it do this, again?” The guy shrugged.

“The schedule’s a bit up in the air, but I recommend at least twice a week. Mention it to the DPD if you feel like it, they keep in contact with us to keep an eye on this series in particular.” Hank shrugged and nodded.

“Alright.” Glancing to Connor, he whistled and motioned his arm for it to follow after him; without missing a beat, the android was quick to shadow him with the audible click of heels against the ground as innocent-looking, rounded eyes watched him while it obediently trekked along, back to the home where it would act as his typical investigation partner when a case came up, as well as a personal guard otherwise, as most androids did with their assigned persons.

-

“Another case of another slaughter,” Ben informed Hank as soon as he’d stepped on the scene with his fellow partner always close behind. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead.

“And what are we s’posed to do this time?”

“The same as always. Have your little friend there hunt down the deviant. At this rate, with how dangerous they are, it doesn’t matter if they’re seized or destroyed, but it’s what that RK800 is made for.” Hank sneered with a look of disgust, turning on his heel to face Connor with a lazy half-shrug.

“You heard the man. Go get ‘em, tiger.” With its eyes turning toward the house, it immediately began to scan as it started to walk forward, before kneeling down to sniff at some blood on the living room floor before the long, prehensile tongue flicked out to lap up a sample. It paused for two seconds to compute it, before turning its head, and in a flash it was standing up, feet and hands shifting to extend as it was immediately on all fours, shifting beneath artificial clothes that either dissipated or merged into the chassis as they were made from a unique combination of holographic light and thirium-based semi-matter, thus never leaving behind a mess of clothes every time they shifted. Hank couldn’t deny being impressed, but a bit freaked out all the same.

“Well, there it goes,” he said with a small huff, raising his eyebrows as he turned to Ben.

“I guess this is my part now, huh?” Collins nodded, gesturing to the rest of the crime scene.

“All yours.”

Stepping forward to take a look around, Hank followed the trail of blood Connor originally discovered, tracking it down the hallway and to the bedroom. The way the blood was smeared against the floor gave him the impression the body was dragged the entire way, with the red lines and splotches leading up to the bed, and to the window, which was wide open; the android must have fled through it with the body.

“Collins,” he called, turning around while he waited before turning back to the mess.

“What is it?” he asked along the way, before pausing in the doorway, stopping and staring at the scene with a soft ‘oh.’

“Well, here’s hoping Connor finds whatever remains of the body, huh?” Hank groused and Collins sighed, glancing down at his tablet as he pulled up the police record.

“There was a married couple that lived here, husband and wife, but there hasn’t been a sign of either of them for at least a week. I’m sure the android can identify what might have happened, but who knows how far it got before we even showed up.” Hank walked closer to the bed, peering out the window to see if he could find anything, but there was nothing more than the continuous trail of blood leading past the backyard, through a gap in the broken wooden fence and beyond.

“What’cha think, should I follow the red brick road?” Ben glanced past Hank, assuming he didn’t find much else anyway, squinting his eyes warily as he bunched his shoulders up with a nervous shrug.

“I don’t think this is your job without some kind of protection on your side. Does the android usually run off without you?” Hank furrowed his eyebrows, scratching his head as he took a moment to think about it.

“No, actually, that’s the first time. Maybe the deviant’s still nearby.” Ben sighed, eyes trailing around the room as he turned around to leave the bedroom.

“Let’s go out and around the house, see if we can tell how far this goes…”

-

Soon enough, Connor was dragging a blue blood-leaking chasses behind it, held by one hand and weakly squirming while its LED repeatedly flashed red and yellow and back again. Having returned to its human form with no more need for the more violent attributes, Connor walked onto the front lawn, looking around with ever-attentive eyes for its partner. Walking up to the house, it glanced inside through the doorway with a quick scan, parting its lips and clicking its tongue a few times to utilize echolocation which quickly revealed the house was empty. Turning around, it headed back outside and around the house. Spotting the trail in the back yard, its vision followed along it until it spotted the designated company. Glancing back at the android nearly shutting down behind it, it scooped it up to carry it for the sake of ease and a slightly quicker speed, sprinting slightly to catch up with its superiors.

“I have obtained the deviant.” Hank let out a noise of surprise as he turned around, looking at Connor, and then immediately to the mess in its arms; mostly human-shaped, but torn open with cables and tubes hanging out and a mess of liquid thirium spilling from within.

“Holy shit,” he said, surprised and a bit baffled.

“That was fast…good job.” With furrowed brows and a look of contempt, he frowned down at the android in its arms.

“There enough left of that thing to be any use?” Blinking with its secondary lids only – something that deeply perturbed Hank as he quickly looked away – it shook its head in distraction, pawing at something on its face as it swiped away some debris that had gotten into its optical unit. Once that was taken care of, it nodded in response to the question and caught Hank’s gaze again, much to his unease.

“Definitely. It is mostly functional, central processing is still at 78.3% percent. External damages are easier to fix than data corruption, and I tried my best to keep the most important internal components intact, although some of the destruction couldn’t be helped.”

“Alright…what about the body?” He paused.

“Or bodies?”

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t locate the husband that the blood matched up with and the wife likely ran away while she had the chance. The husband was either able to flee or disappeared otherwise. The trail stops at the warehouse where the deviant was hiding, as does any other sign of his general existence.” Hank blinked with an expression of disbelief, before taking a deep breath and starting to walk back to the house.

“Well, I guess we’d better try and find the wife, figure out what happened from her. Can’t you like, track her scent or something?” Connor blinked, looking to the house as it walked along beside him with the destroyed chassis still in its arms.

“If there’s any worn articles of clothing or she’s been in the bed recently, perhaps, but footprints or other tracks would be easier to follow as human scents don’t leave trails.” Hank was surprised that he was shocked it actually could track such specific smells, reminding himself to stop being taken off-guard every time he learns something new about these things, always being updated and granted new, disturbing parts.

“Alright. Wrap that up and we’ll drop it off, I guess, and you can try and track her down.”

“Got it,” it responded, sounding much too human for his own comfort.

[kyumiterasu]

The Beast Within AU: Transformations

Ok, I’ll be real with you here. It’s gonna get pretty gross. Like, body-horror gross. If you’re not into that, please look elsewhere. Otherwise, let’s get this party started.

Note: The thieves are surrounded by a ring of blue flame during the process, separating them from Morgana.

In General

The thieves’ masks and outfits fuse to their skin - the sensation is akin to burning.

Everyone transformed at around the same time.

As they transform, each thief’s persona takes hold of their consciousness, until they eventually take complete control.

Haru

Thick, vine-like tendrils sprout from her skin and enclose Haru in a sort of pupa.

On the inside, Haru’s outfit and skin hardens into an exoskeleton and she spouts four membranous wings.

Each of her legs split into two, and jut out around a newly-formed budlike abdomen.

The pupa pulses while Haru’s screams devolve into high-pitched screeches.

Like a butterfly, Haru breaks out of her pupa near the end of her transformation; her wings expand and her exoskeleton hardens in the air.

Futaba

Metal plates jut out of Futaba’s back and construct a body around her.

Various wires and tubes are injected into the organic parts of her body, mechanizing them.

Four black tentacles sprout out of Futaba’s ribcage, forming 2 more pairs of legs.

Futaba’s mouth is covered with a pair of mandibles with hydrofluoric acid-filled fangs.

Ever seen Tetsuo: the Iron Man?  The whole process is basically this, but with a touch of H.R. Giger.

Makoto

Like Futaba, her body forms a metal exoskeleton.

Unlike the other thieves, Makoto is literally fused to her Persona

Johanna was summoned against her will, and began assimilating her like how Freddy Krueger killed Dan Jordan: https://youtu.be/uHrhrbn4Dc0?t=2m20s

Yusuke

A classic werebeast transformation, with some twists.

The cloth all over Yusuke’s body unravels into a new pelt of fur.

His nails and teeth lengthen and sharpen.

He retains his hands’ shape, but his feet become fox paws.

Yusuke’s entire torso crunches into a fox’s torso, four-legged and all.

His once-dummy tail fuses to his coccyx and grows and splits in its bindings.

Finally, Yusuke’s face stretches into a thin, pointed muzzle.

Can you tell that I really like werebeasts?

Ann

Another werebeast transformation!

Her catsuit’s leather spouts crimson fur and back spines.

Her nails and teeth lengthen and sharpen, but her nails also retract into sheaths.

She basically becomes a full cat, paws and all.

Her dummy tail becomes an actual tail, and one-third of it is forked.

Ann’s face extends into a short, compact muzzle.

Ryuji

Ryuji’s skin hardens and it appears as if he’s losing muscle, getting thinner and taller.

His teeth become sharklike.

Essentially, his body is like Scarlet’s (from Silent Hill: Homecoming)

I didn’t put much thought into this one, sorry...

Ren

Ren’s legs become goatlike, with a pair of sharp backwards-curving talons above each cloven hoof.

His coattails become actual tails akin to a swallow.

Two massive wings sprout out of Ren’s back.

Ren’s mask forms Arsene-like horns and resembles a cross between a goat and 2018 Pennywise.

His fingernails extend into red daggers for claws.

His maw widens, and is filled with pin-sharp teeth.

Ren’s black fur and feathers resembles a coat.

[freezing-kaiju]

Stardate 2689

A Fire Emblem Heroes fic! Written with @pupmon1

Part 1: The Woman in the Ducts

Captain’s Log, Date 2/10/2689, Camilla. Nothing much of event is happening, we’re just traveling right now. No anomalies reported. Crew is basically on leave...if it weren’t for my duties I’d be spending some...quality time with Lyndis and Hinoka...

“Um! Acting Captain Camilla! Officer Setsuna is acting...strange.”

Camilla looked up from her console. “Inform Acting Deputy Hinoka, and leave me be.”

“Um...it’s...it was Acting Deputy Hinoka who sent me to get you.” Ensign Florina said nervously. “And Lyn- I mean Deputy Lyndis is busy...”

Camilla sighed and stood. “Alright. Has AD Hinoka confined Officer Setsuna to her quarters?”

“Um...ah, no ma’am. They’re on deck 12, at the maintenance hatch.”

Camilla paused for a moment, then sighed. “I’ll be on my way then, thank you Florina. Severa, come with me.”

The redhead looked up, quickly closing her computer. “Do I have to, Captain? Wait, don’t answer that, I know...” She stood up and saluted. “Yes, ma’am!” she said sharply before following Camilla to the lift.

When they reached Setsuna, she was attempting to enter one of the maintenance ducts.

“Setsuna! What are you doing?!?” Severa shouted, storming towards the blue haired woman. Camilla remained in the back, just...watching.

“Getting food for the girl that lives in the ducts,” Setsuna said.

Severa stopped and blinked in confusion. “Wait…’girl that lives in the ducts’? What are you blithering about?”

“She’s small and thin and her eyes glow,” she elaborated. “Doesn’t talk much.”

Severa’s eyes widened and she grabbed her coms. “Selkie, get a team ready, we may have an intruder.

“...we-...I came with the ship...” a robotic, echoing voice said from the duct.

Severa jumped and grabbed her blaster. “Show yourself!” she ordered.

“...no…” came the reply.

“Come out or el-”

Severa’s threat was interrupted by Camilla putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay Beruka, you can come out. Just for a moment.”

Severa looked around, completely confused, as a small woman crawled out of the ducts. She had blue hair, and one side of her head and most of her face was covered by cybernetics, some of them plateless and exposed. One eye was only a red lense with a black pupil, the other stared out from a crack in the plate. Her body was thin and she had several large cybernetics, including three of her entire limbs. She was covered with an old, torn and damaged Nohrian uniform. Her cybernetic arm didn’t even appear humanoid. It was a tangle of wires wrapped around themselves, ending with a metal cap. Moved more like a tentacle than an arm, really.

“WHAT IS THAT?” Severa said, backing away. “I...thought those were outlawed!”

“Not everyone follows the law,” Camilla said simply. At Severa’s loud shout, the girl jumped and scrambled back into the darkness. Camilla sighed and glared at Severa. “Speak a little softer, please. She’s a timid one.”

“Oh, sorry. What...what are you doing here?” Severa asked.

“Wanna eclair?” Setsuna asked, offering the girl a box.

The girl inched back out and grabbed at the box, retreating to the darkness once she had it.

“You’re welcome, little buddy,” Setsuna said with a smile.

“...Beruka…” came a reply from the darkness. “That….that was my name...I think…”

“Ok, Beruka!” Setsuna said with a smile.

Camilla stepped forward and crouched down. “Beruka, you know I prefer you to stay in your room. What are you doing up here?”

Beruka twitched and shuddered for a moment. “Curiosity,” she answered, her voice monotone and almost...automatic. “Unreported entity in the ducts. Unit BRK investigated anomaly, discovered organic entity designated ‘Setsuna’. Unintentional discovery resulted in entity running off and returning with food.”

Once she was done, the girl jerked and relaxed, moving nervously and backing away. “We...we didn't mean to be discovered...meant to avoid unknown organics. I'm sorry commander…”

“...wait...” Severa frowned. “She sounded for a minute like...something we were briefed on back in the academy...except...she seems to have some emotions? I’m confused. Is she Borg or not?”

“Sort of,” Camilla replied as she stood. “Before Nohr joined the Union, they ran...experiments. One of our scientists captured a Borg ship and used their tech to augment our own. Most ships were destroyed...one went rogue, the crew taken over, and the captain gone mad. She's one of the few remaining from that experiment.”

“Ah.” Severa shivered and backed up a bit. “You’re...sure she’s not a danger?”

“This ship is the only home she has. She won't put it in danger. If you're nervous about it, you and Setsuna can return her to her room,” Camilla said simply.

“Okay…sorry, just a bit rattled. Academy protocol. Ma’am.”

“I understand.” Camilla nodded and looked down at Beruka. “Return to your room. Allow these two to follow.”

“Yes commander.” With that Beruka turned around and hobbled into the ducts, not waiting for them to follow.

Camilla sighed and turned to leave. “You can follow if you wish. Just keep this on the down low. The Union can't know she's here, but I won't keep her from my crew.”

“Alright,” Setsuna responded, already following. Severa hesitated, then followed as well.

Beruka lead the two through the maze of the vents, pausing to make sure they could see which way they went. She lead them to a room near the engine room...and the whole place looked vastly different from the rest of the ship.

Most of the ship was was clean and white with the occasional colored paneling, but this room...it looked like those diagrams of Borg ships. Black and green tech spread throughout the room, wires covering the floor and scaling the walls. The natural entrance to the room was blocked by tech, and sealed from the other side.

Beruka dropped into the room and stood, her arm twitching. “Security Officer Severa, Weapons Officer Setsuna, is this satisfactory?”

Setsuna nodded and attempted to sit down, tripping on a wire. “..ow...It’s pretty...”

“...please do not damage my charging station…” Beruka muttered, gesturing at the bed like structure Setsuna had fallen on.

“Sorry...I should probably go now,” Setsuna said, getting up and tiptoeing towards the entrance with unusual care. “Probably gonna break something.”

“This is impressive,” Severa said. She noticed more of those bed-like objects around the room in a Mondrian square pattern. “I’m...sorry about your dead comrades.”

Beruka paused and twitched. “Statement does not make sense. We're all...we’re all still here...s-still…” Beruka stopped and stumbled back, leaning on one of the consoles. “...we’re all still here…unit one of many.”

Severa paused, confused. “Did I...” She turned back to Setsuna. “Did I just break her? I’m....sorry.”

Beruka jerked and shook her head, suddenly standing up straight. “Unit failure detected, personality shut down. Revert to main programming.”

“No no no no uh....” Severa paused. “What do I say? I don’t work well with cybernetics...”

“I think she just factory reset,” Setsuna said.

“Umm...abort reset!” Severa shouted.

“Why are you getting so worked up?” Setsuna asked.

“I...don’t know...”

Beruka twitched and jerked for a moment, then shook her head. “Reset to last working set complete.” She hesitated for a moment before removing the cap at the end of her arm. The wires lashed out and connected to a nearby panel, a voice clip playing of Elise.

“Reports show bringing up the subject of the lost units causes Beruka to malfunction.”

Beruka shivered and disengaged, sitting on her bed. “...I am broken...I can’t be repaired…”

“I’m...sorry...” Severa said.

“Have you seen Rhajat about repairs?” Setsuna asked.

Beruka hesitated for a moment before sighing. “...organics frighten me...you are only here because the commander said to lead you here. Non...non-Nohrians...organics...not to be trusted…”

“Rhajat is mostly a cyborg...” Setsuna pointed out.

“Yeah but she’s...humanoid,” Severa interjected. “And Hoshidian-Plegian, very much not Nohrian.”

“...if the commander ordered it...I would…but I...can’t...” Beruka managed to say, shrinking away.

“I think we’re scaring her,” Severa said.

“I think we need to talk to Captain Camilla,” Setsuna said simply. “She can’t do it by herself.”

Beruka simply nodded in response.

“We’ll...take our leave, then,” Severa said with an awkward, stiff salute. Beruka mirrored the salute, then turned to her console, ignoring the two ‘organics’.

“Wait...why don’t you trust organics?” Setsuna interrupted.

“The Union cannot know of this unit. It would result in this unit’s termination, or a continuation of the experiments. Commander couldn’t make a prediction. Please leave.”

Severa and Setsuna exited the room, leaving her alone with her tech. They crawled through the maintenance ducts and exited in the engine room. “You go talk to Camilla, I’ll go talk to Rhajat,” Severa ordered quickly before running off.

“Ok.” Setsuna nodded and walked off.

Severa ran down the hallway, darting past guards and other crew members. She darted into the science lab. “Rhajat!”

The science lab was dark, and supposedly ominous, but at this moment it just annoyed Severa. The lights flickered on, revealing a cloaked figure in the corner, sitting at a desk. “What do you wish of a techno-ma-”

“Cut the shit, Rhajat.”

She looked slightly nonplussed. “What is it, Severa?”

Severa squirmed for a moment, hesitating before speaking carefully. “...how much do...your kind know about the Borg…?” she asked softly.

“...we know of them...” Rhajat frowned. “A sad insult to the fundamental principle of consent.”

“I mean…” Severa took a deep breath and sat down, lowering her voice to a soft whisper. “...how much do you know about how their tech works? About them...not their ideals.”

“Only really the basic details, it’s far cruder yet more complex than regular tech.” She pulled up some schematics. “They’re cobbled together from nonconnected tech, requires an understanding of a large amount of mechanics.”

“...can you work on one?”

“Maybe. Why?” she said suspiciously.

Severa held up a hand and grabbed her coms. “Setsuna, what did the captain say?”

“She’s given the order, Beruka is coming…”

“THERE’S ONE IN THE SHIP?” Rhajat shouted, dropping her schematic.

“SHHHHHH!” Severa jolted forward and clamped her hands over the cyborgs mouth. “Shhh...calm down...I’m going to pull away now...but you can’t shout.” Rhajat simply nodded and Severa pulled away, carefully sitting down again. “Now listen...she’s not part of the Borg...but she has Borg tech in her. She keeps glitching out and you will try to help her, understand?”

Again, a nod. A few minutes later, one of the maintenance panels open, and Beruka crawled out, a cloak hiding her body, the organic lower half of her face was the only thing visible. “I was instructed to come here,” she said, her red eye glowing beneath the cloak.

Rhajat was busy turning off the cameras and closing the blinds. “Alright...” She pulled out a multitool and several instruments popped out of her arms. “Sit down on that table and hold still. What seems to be the problem?”

Beruka sat on the table and twitched. She pulled off her cloak, revealing her form. She tried to hide her arm behind her to no avail. “We are many, but we are one. This unit’s programming can’t handle the presented situation.”

“...okay. So we’re doing a reprogramming here?” Rhajat felt her all over, pulling on a few loose plates.

One of the plates nearly came loose, and Beruka lashed out, the wires of her arm springing free of the cap and wrapping around Rhajat, tangling around her arm and worming up to her throat. “This unit will not fail. We……I will not fail. Do not touch my armor. Reprogramming was the only order, it is all that will be allowed.”

Rhajat chuckled softly and easily pulled herself free. “You’re not even strong enough to hold me. You look like you need extensive repairs...and I think you need to be put on a high-calorie diet, despite the mechanics your organic parts look about to fail and you’re probably living off sheer battery power...”

Beruka growled softly and closed her eye. “...I cannot fail…”

“Then you need fixing. Shut down.”

“N-no,” Beruka replied, shaking a little. “I-...I will not take orders from you, organic.”

Rhajat removed her arm. “I am not organic, i’m just good at faking it.”

Beruka stared at the arm, her wires hesitantly reaching out towards it. “...borg?” she muttered, confused. “...like me?”

“Yes...no...” she sighed. “Yes. But I have my own free will.”

“...free...will?” Beruka’s eye flickered and she twitched. “This unit doesn’t understand...but we will obey those like us. Shutdown command still in effect?”

“Before that...where is your startup button?”

Beruka reached back and touched a small glowing green circle on the base on her neck. “Here.”

“Thank you. Now shut down.”

Beruka’s red eye faded to black and she slumped forward, everything going slack. Most of the green lights on her body faded to black as well, the only lights remaining are those on her chest, which just became a gentle pulse.

“Alright...” Rhajat grinned and put on her red goggles. “Severa, go to Medical Officer Elise and ask for the malnutrition support machine. I’ll deal with the fixing-up.”

Severa nodded and darted off.

--

Some time later, Elise rushed in, and paused at what she saw. “Wait...Beruka? Rhajat, what are you doing with her? What is she doing here? Severa didn’t mention her.”

Rhajat finished drilling in a panel and shrugged. “She needs repairs, and her organic parts are starving.”

“I didn’t know she had deteriorated so much,” Elise rolled the support machine forward. “Are you only repairing her outer armor? Her inner parts have...laced with her flesh somehow.”

“I’m repairing whatever I can.” Rhajat sighed and stepped back for a moment. “I can’t do much about the components inside her. They’re keeping her functioning. But I can repair her outer armor so it’s not all exposed.”

Elise nodded as she started to hook up the small girl to the support machine. “We have to be careful...the Union can’t know about her. They’ll take her away.”

“I’m aware.” Rhajat gave her what was probably supposed to be an endearing smile but came off as more of a slasher smile. “Cameras are off and i won’t log this. You have my word.”

“But that means we can’t divert too many resources to her care.”

“Yeah, i’m using the spare parts bucket to fix her up,” Rhajat said. “If she needs an expensive part...sorry.”

“We can skim off whatever she needs to survive, but no more. We can’t let her take things from the official Union supplies,” Elise explained. “But they’ll notice if we go through supplies too quickly.”

“Well...that’s neither of our jobs.” Rhajat said. “Union isn’t very strict about the use of the food replicator, so I could add a subcommand that’d make her stick to eating regularly. It’d just look like someone came back for seconds.”

Elise simply nodded. “Neither me, nor Camilla, have any experience with machines...we tried to help the human part of her but...there’s not much human left. A subroutine like that would be useful...but...I’m nervous about just...programming her to do things, even for her own good. That’s just the kind of stuff the Union bans.”

“Alright. Should I just wipe her programming? Seems like that would cost us a quality engineer...”

Elise nervously rubbed her arm. “I think that would hurt her more...d-do what you think is best. I’m leaving her in your care.”

“Okay.” Rhajat grimaced and felt a crunch in her mouth, beginning to be aware that she had bit her artificial nails so hard she had begin to bite into the fake flesh on her hand. “Damnit...not again...”

“D-did you hurt yourself? I can help!” Elise spoke up quickly.

“Nah, i’m good.” She began bandaging her hand, aware that she would just pick at the loose skin if she could see the cut. “Damn...that silicone flesh is expensive, though...”

Elise nervously scratched the back of her head. “Well...if I’m not needed...I’ll just return to the med bay,” she muttered before starting to leave.

“Bye.” Rhajat said unconcernedly, and returned to her work.

------

Beruka wasn’t sure how long she was asleep...but eventually her eyes snapped open as her body rebooted. She sat up and looked around, confused about where she is. “Wh...what’s going on?”

“SHE’S ALIVE! MWAHAHAHAHA!” Rhajat exclaimed, standing on a table and cackling.

“Do you really have to do that every time?” Setsuna mumbled, sitting at the desk.

Beruka leaned away from the very loud cyborg. “...um...what is going on?”

“You’re back! Repaired, deprogrammed, all shiny new parts, mostly.”

“Deprogrammed? We-...I-...what?”

“Well...a lot of glitches ironed out, mostly. How do you feel?”

“...empty...quiet…” Beruka paused and put a hand on her head. “...hungry…that’s new…”

“Good. Apologies for any bad effects, I guess,” Rhajat said. “Setsuna’s gonna start smuggling you food from now on. If you start feeling any sort of existential dread, pain, or loneliness, be sure to tell me.”

Setsuna reached out and handed her a plate with a burger and fries on it. “Here.”

Beruka hesitantly took the plate and stared down at it. “I...I am Unit BRK...but I don’t...feel like Unit BRK…”

“What do you feel like, then?”

“I...I don’t know…” Beruka answered before nibbling on a fry. “...the program made it simple...but now...I-...I don’t know…”

“...Good!” Rhajat exclaimed. “You’re all ready for a whole new experience. Hey, do you remember when before you were a borg or were you cloned for that purpose?”

Beruka hummed for a few moments, rocking as she thought. “I...I don’t know…”

“Ok. I would imagine they’d have wiped your mind...”

Setsuna raised her hand. “Hey, if we proved to the Union that she has free will now...then would she be okay?”

“...are we free? Can this unit be free?” Beruka wondered, tilting her head a little. “The unit can still feel it...the voice calling to it. The ship is louder though...just listen to the ship…” Beruka shook her head and looked down at her wire arm. “...it’s not all gone...the ship still talks to me…”

“Hmm. Interesting...”

Beruka glanced at Rhajat out of the corner of her eye. “...you can’t hear the ship...can you?”

“No, I can’t. What do you mean ‘hear the ship’?”

Beruka reached out, offering a wire to Rhajat. “I can show you...interface with me.”

“How about no.” Rhajat said, backing up.

Beruka simply shrugged and withdrew her arm. She focused on eating, one of her wires going over to a nearby console to gather information hidden to her wireless connection. “Science Officer Rhajat...that’s your designation, correct?”

“Correct.”

“You’re a...techno-mage?” Beruka twitched. “...those like us but not.”

“I suppose.”

Beruka rocked a little. “...how can you stand it? Working with organics...taking orders from organics...willingly?”

“...they’re...well i wouldn’t say they’re all my friends, but...” Rhajat shifted uncomfortably. “I have friends. Partners. And memories of my family...memories of when I was fully human. One memory of my father but I don’t care about him.”

Beruka nodded and crossed her arms. “...I suppose that makes sense...this unit has only ever been this unit…” Beruka grabbed her cap, pausing for a moment. “Though...are you sure you don’t want to feel the ship? My programming won’t infect you...it hasn’t infected the ship, and I’m always connected to it…”

“I’m sure...I don’t have many cybernetics in my brain. None, really, the circlet controlling my limbs is basically a hat.” Rhajat shivered. “I’m kinda paranoid about that...so I don’t know if I even could.”

“That is a weakness I could fix…” Beruka said simply.

“There’s plenty of ‘weaknesses’ a mental implant could fix...I got sick of my father suggesting ways to, and I’m not going to do that anytime soon.”

Beruka simply chuckled at her response. “How...organic of you. Putting up with a weakness that could be so easily fixed. I have nothing more to do here then. I shall return to my room.”

Rhajat shrugged. “I’ll check up on you later. You are dismissed.”

Beruka nodded and turned back to the duct. “When you visit me...do not comment on the...what is your people call our technology? The cancer of my room...it is my business.” With that said, Beruka made her way back into the duct, disappearing into the darkness.

“Understood.”

[casmarwri-blog]

Old Writing- Hidden Monsters, Hidden Gods

Cold air blew through the exposed ventilation tubing that hung from the tall ceiling. Simon shivered. All around him other students stood in various combinations of athletic gear. Conversations fell into a general murmur that flowed around Simon.

    One girl stood, leaning against the padded wall. Dressed in black athletic shorts and a gray t-shirt, her hands were clasped tightly in front of her. Her read, spade headed tail flicked back and forth nervously behind her legs. Every now and again she would reach up and self-consciously rub one of the curved horns protruding from her temples.

Another student walked up and leaned against the wall next to her. She shied away, but her eyes lit up when she saw the pointed ears and lithe frame that marked the man as an elf. They struck up a conversation, only a few of the bits and pieces managing to float their way over to Simon.

“...you been adjusting well…”

“...no one really cares..”

“...wow, i thought as a succubus maybe…”

“...I know, i was so relieved when they didn’t…”

Simon was so focused on picking pieces of the conversation out of the flow of chatter that he didn't notice Maya come up next to him. The puff of air she blew into his ear almost caused him to fall over. A jumbled mess of syllables escaped Simon, eventually managing to assemble themselves into coherent words.

    “When did you get there” Simon asked. A devious smile sat on Maya’s lips; her deep blue eyes filled with a similar gleam.

    “Just now. Maybe you would have noticed if you hadn’t been staring and eavesdropping. What, are you trying to get a date with a succubus instead of me?” Maya said with her eyes still filled with mischief.

Simon blew out a puff of air. “As if i could get a succubus to date me.”

“Well i mean you would actually have to talk to her first for dating to even be a possibility.” Maya responded as she wrapped her arm around Simon’s.

“That's the issue right there. I can't talk to new people. I have a hard enough time keeping a conversation with most of the people that i do know. Meeting people is hard.”

    “You seemed to like meeting me”

    “I did but at the same time i was kinda petrified.”

“Was it because of my tentacles?”Maya asked. She wiggled the tips of the eight dark blue tentacles that stuck out from beneath her dress.

“No it wasn’t because of that. I literally didn’t even notice until halfway through our first date.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. How could you not notice that i wasn’t human, have gills, and literally don’t have human legs?”

“You can't really see your gills when you are out of the water”

“Touche, but what about everything else i just mentioned, the things that should be extremely obvious to most people when they first look at me?”

“Well, you were wearing a dress, as usual, and it was kinda dark so i didn’t see when you walked over. Then your makeup, your hair, your face, and ….” Simon trailed off as his cheeks started to burn. Maya giggled and kissed Simon on the cheek, causing his blush to flare up further.

“Can one of you just kill me” a voice said from behind the two.

    “Natasha!” Maya exclaimed; waving at the approaching girl.

“I do not want to be awake right now” Natasha announced as she walked up. Her dark amber eyes were struggling to stay open; the dark slit in the middle of her eyes tiny under the intense glare of the gym’s fluorescent lights.

    “Did you sleep at all last night” Maya asked with her voice full of worry. Natasha chuckled and shook her head. Maya let go of Simon to go and wrap her arms around Natasha.

    “C’mon girl, you gotta sleep before test day. You won’t do well”

    “I never do well anyways” Natasha groaned. “These tests are bogus. The class is magical education, not how well can you take a magical ability test.” Her oversized canines flashed as she spoke. “I’m gonna fail” she cried as she laid her head on Maya’s shoulder. “Werecats don’t do magic”. Maya patted her head, also rubbing of of the triangular, fur covered ears that sprouted out from Natasha’s dark brown hair.

“Well, i mean you guys just started moving in in the most recent wave.” Simon said again to his shoes.

“Yeah, yeah. We only started moving in a month ago, but still some species are not inclined to magic use, just like some people aren’t. Not everyone can use magic!” Natasha stated vehemently.   

    “I know how you feel” Simon said, looking down at his feet. Natasha’s ears swiveled to catch Simon’s voice. She raised her head and nodded.

    “You get me, Simon.” she untangled herself from Maya’s arms. Walking over to Simon, she put an arm around his shoulders. He shrank in her grasp, but after a few moments relaxed.

    “We’ll get through this together, me and you Simon.

    “I believe in you guys” Maya added supportively.

    “Thats easy for you to say, ms. Level 15” Natasha shot at Maya.

    “Ouch.” Maya put a hand over her heart and drew her lips into a pout. The two broke out in laughter. Simon gave a few weak chuckles.

    “Oh look over there!” Maya exclaimed, pointing at one of the testing stations.

At one of the three testing stations among the throng of college students, teenage boy was standing stock still, eyes closed. An official holding a clipboard stood behind him, pen hovering just above the paper. Simon couldn't hear his command over the chatter of all the other students in the gym, but he did see the official's mouth move. In an instant, he was off.He became a blur that jumped hurdles, scaled walls, and mounted a multitude of other obstacles. In less than a minute, at the opposite end of the gym he stood, breathing just slightly harder than before. Flowing red lines running his arms and legs marked the mana pathways he used to reinforce and enhance his own body. The official's pen scratched at the paper on the clipboard before he motioned for Cas to join the growing body of students who had already completed their test.

“I can’t believe he's only in highschool” Natasha said over one of her long, manicured nails that had found its way between her teeth. A sharp voice called out Simon’s name.

“Good luck Simon” Maya said, giving him one last short hug.

“Good luck” Natasha added with a wave. His stomach already tying itself in knots, SImon nodded at the two and walked over to stand next to the official.

The obstacle course that had been set up previously had been replaced with a single metal table. On the table sat a small metal handle with a wire leading into a meter; the left end red the right end green. A needle sat at the bottom of the red portion.

    “Even if you have done this before, i am still legally mandated to go over the procedure for this test. You are about to take the level 1 standardized magical ability application test. If you think you should be taking a higher level test, let me know immediately.” The official read mechanically. “For the level 1 standardized magical ability test, you will grab the handle laying in front of you. Then on my mark, the test will begin. You will have 20 seconds to push as much magical energy into the handle as you can. Again, if you think you should be taking a higher level test, please let me know immediately.” The official said again, emphasizing the last part. Simons stomach knotted on itself even further.

        “Now, please take hold of the handle in front of you and prepare for the test to begin. Please wait for my mark to begin the level 1 standardized magical ability test.” The official read. His pen clicked and hovered above the paper. The official turned his head, his beady eyes boring into Simon. Simon wiped his hands on his pants and picked up the handle. It was cold and smooth in his clammy hand.

    “Begin”. Simon focused. He looked into himself and called forth the little magic that lay dormant at the back of his self. His arms tingled with a slight burning energy, and he focused it into the piece of metal clasped in his grip.  

“Time!” the official called. Simon stopped and let the magic settle back into himself. The officials pen scratched hurriedly. Simon looked over at the meter and sighed. The needle was standing straight up at approximately the halfway point; still some distance from the green colored zone towards the right end of the meter. The officials pen stopped scratching and he motioned for Simon to move forward to the other side of the gym.

    Looking down at the tops of his shoes, Simon walked across the wood panelled floor. His stomach had untied itself, only to now release bile into the back of Simon’s throat. He sat down a good distance away from the other gaggles of chattering college students. He laid his head back against the concrete brick wall and closed his eyes.

        A cloud of conversation hung in the gym. Underneath that was the sound of running on the wood floor, grunts of exertion, the high pitched ‘ting’ of thin metal targets being hit by magical projectiles. The officials’ voices popped into the sound every now and then; calling another student to one of the testing areas.  

    The metallic clank and squeak of one of the large metal gym doors opening cut through the cloud of sound. Heavy footsteps clomped on the wooden floor. The footsteps moved towards the center of the gym and stopped part way. After a moment, the footsteps continued and then paused again, and then after another few moments moved on and paused again. Then the footsteps started again, moving back across the gym.

    Simon opened his eyes when the footsteps began to get close to where he was sitting. He looked up and saw a man a dressed in a dark burgundy suit; a pair of designer sunglasses reflecting the bright fluorescent lights above.    

“You are Simon, correct?” the man in burgundy asked as he approached. Simon nodded. His stomach began to re-knot itself. A large smile filled up the man's face.

“Its real nice to meet you Simon. I’m Xander Hoffman, from the universities magical studies department.” he said, holding out his hand. Simon scrambled up, and wiped his hand on his pants before shaking Xander’s outstreched hand. “I have an opportunity that i think you might be interested in. i’m are currently apart of  a study investigating new ways to artificially  improve a person’s magical aptitude. And i understand that you have not been performing well on the ability tests.With your participation, i can promise you incredible growth in your magical aptitude.” Xander offered, the massive smile still plastered on his face.

    “I mean...” Simon began, his voice just managing to poke through his lips. He pushed back strands of his curly hair. His sneaker squeaked on the polished wood floor as he shuffled his feet.

“There are no sort of medical procedures or anything involved. You will just be doing tests like you did here. All you have to do is hold something while you do it. Nothing permanent or invasive. “ Xander said, his hands moving closer towards Simon.

Thoughts raced through Simon’s head. A simple way to solve his complete lack of magical skill. Simon thought about the risk involved in doing any sort of bleeding edge study research, but from what the man said it sounded like minimal effort and danger on Simon’s part.    Simon looked up and met the sunglass covered face of Xander, still smiling and waiting expectantly. Xander’s expression made up Simon’s mind for him.

“Sure” Simon enunciated quietly; making sure that Xander understood what he said.

“Fantastic!” Xander exclaimed as he grabbed Simon’s limp hand and shook.  Why don’t you come back to my office and i can go over some of the paperwork with you?” Xander proposed, already turning away from Simon as he said this. Simon nodded slightly and followed out Xander. The heavy footsteps sounded across the gym, and the gym door squealed once again as it was pushed open.

Simon followed Xander down a narrow hallway, whitewashed walls dotted with abstract paintings on either side. Even spaced wooden doors lined the entire hallway, leading to the various offices of college faculty members.He opened the door of his office and waved Simon in. A rectangular, dark wood desk dominated the center of the room. Shelves loaded with books took walls on either side of the room, while a tinted floor to ceiling window took up the back wall. Xander motioned for Simon to sit down in one of the metal and fabric chairs right in front of the desk. Simon sat down while Xander busied himself around the office. After a few moments, Xander sat behind the desk. He sat down a small pile of papers covered in fine print, a silver pen, and a steel cube.

“These are just some basic consent and liability forms you need to fill out. The study is completely safe, it’s just procedure for bleeding edge studies like this.” Xander explained. The large leather backed chair he sat in creaked as he leaned back. Simon nodded and pulled the papers towards him. He grabbed the pen off the top of the papers. He read through the document, but his eyes kept snapping back up to the steel cube that sat on the desk. Its surface was engraved with intricate geometric lines.

    Simon put the pen down and wiped his hand on his leg. He tried to read and sign the documents, but the cube kept drawing his attention. Xander had said nothing about it, having just simply placed it on the desk. It pulled at him; seeming to not ask but demand his attention.

     Noticing Simon’s gaze, Xander leaned forward and pushed the cube towards Simon. “Go ahead, you can pick it up.” Simon looked from Xander, ot the cube, and then back. Gingerly, he reached his hand forward and picked the cube off of the desk.

Simon turned the cube in his hands, surprised by its heft. A thick bezel ran along each edge. Each of the faces was recessed slightly and covered in a series of flowing geometric lines. His fingers began to tingle slightly, like someone had began to pump electricity into the metal of the cube. Simon nearly threw the cube back onto the desk when the feeling began to race up his arms and into the rest of his body.  

    Xander chuckled. “You feel that? That’s it  working”. He leaned his elbows on the desk and put his chin in his hands. A toothy smile once again filled up  his face. The sunglass obscured eyes stared intently at Simon.

        “Working?” Simon questioned, the word jumping out of his lips.

    “Yes. here, i want you to hold this again. But this time pretend you’re taking the ability test. Push some magic into it.” Xander said, his voice tinted with a hint of urgency. Simon picked up the cube again, this time the tingling starting immediately. Simon pulled forth the small amount of magic he could. The cube responded immediately, the lines engraved on its surface bursting to life. Blue light raced over the face of the cube, and the tingling feeling from the cube was replaced by a rush of energy.

A burning force coursed into Simon’s body. He gasped. The burning force awakened every of his body; charging it with a vitality that he had never before experienced. He flexed the fingers on his other hand, feeling the energy course through them. Blue sparks jumped from his hand; an eruption of energy outward.

    A thudding knock at the door. Simon stopped pushing energy into the cube. The rush of energy lessened; returning back to its original tingle.

    Another knock at the door, this one shaking the door in its frame.

“Put it on the desk” Xander said to Simon.He quickly placed the cube back on the polished wood surface.. Xander walked to the door and stood in front of the door. No hint of the smile that had taken up his before was left; replaced by a tightness of his skin and a reddening complexion. He put his hand on the door knob and let it sit there; as if he already knew that was was behind the door was something terrible that, unfortunately for him, had to be dealt with sooner rather than later.

The tendons in Xander’s necks tightened like ropes when the door opened. His free hand collapsed into a fist; the knuckles white. Xander said nothing, walking away from the door to go sit behind his desk. Simon turned his head to see the teenage boy from the test walk into the office. The door clicked shut behind him. His face was stony, but his eyes burned with anger. Simon turned to see that Xander was hunched forward on his desk, his entire body taught.

The two stared at each, seconds stretching long under their gaze. Xander waved a hand at the boy. “Speak” came a strained command.

“Did you honestly think you could go on with this?” The boy’s voice came out as stony as his expression. He walked over to stand directly in front of Simon, the desk an island between him and Xander. He picked up the cube and let it sit in his palm. “There’s no place for you to peddle your garbage here.” Simon pushed himself further into his seat, away from the growing cloud of tension that grew in the room.

Xander’s voice came out as a strained wind; hinting at the storm of rage that spun under the surface. Xander’s face was beet red. The skin seemed to be stretched too tight over his skull. His teeth ground together as his jaw unclenched.

“You insolent little bastard. I was in the middle of a deal, steps away from a neat and tidy closing before you decided to come along and spoil it all.”

“You were in the middle of a scam, moments away from taking his freedom” the boy retorted with a finger back at Simon. Simon’e eyes grew wide, filled with confusion and fear.

“Look what you’ve done. See, if you hadn’t have come in here, Simon here wouldn’t be fearing for his life, and neither of us would have to be so angry.” Xander said with a hand towards Simon.

“And let you trick another person into giving away part of themselves just for some cheap imitation magic foci”. The boy threw his hand down onto the cube that sat onto the desk. With a glass like ringing, the cube shattered under the boy��s hand. The veins in Xander’s face pulsed with rage. His hands had turned white under their own crushing grip.

Simon  watched this all, more and more layers of confusion piling atop of one another to gel into a barely contained panic. Xander sighed and collapsed back into his leather chair. He seemed deflated, his skin and suit no longer filled by the anger beneath his flesh. He threw his hands in the air.

    “I know when a deal has spoiled. No reason wasting any more time on this wasteful escapade.”  With one hand, he reached up and pulled the desinger sunglasses off his face. His eyes were closed. He folded up the sunglasses and placed them on the desk. He rubbed his eyes with his hands before turning to look at the boy. Two shining sat where Xander’s eyes should have been; shining a blinding white. Molten gold flowed in a ring around the center of each blinding white eye.  

“Your turn. I won’t be the only one revealing myself to a mortal, and after everything i promised, i want him to least understand the reason behind all this.  Either you release the spell yourself, or i rip it off for you.” The boy walked over to lean against one of the bookshelves. Like dripping paint, the skin on the boys hands and arms flowed off. It didn’t drop to the floor, but simply evaporated into smoke. The boy’s fingers, hand, and up until his elbow was made up of red crystal. Light pulsated and danced along the multitude of facets. The boy looked at Simon, his left eye a white burning sun like Xander’s.

“Unfortunately, my dear boy Simon, you have gotten mixed up in a little turf war between us two.” Xander said, having turned to look at simon. “I still see that look of complete confusion on your face, so let me explain a little more before i have you go. That boy over there and i both happen to be gods in the word that has collided with yours. And i, being the businessman that i am, saw an opportunity to gain some new followers and affluence in this world.”

“Along with ruining lives” the boy spat. Xander brushed the comment off.

“I apologize that our deal had to be ruined by such an immature god, one of the lowest order.” Xander stuck his hand out across the desk towards Simon. “Sorry for the trouble, Simon. You probably won’t see me ever again, but if you ever need a god to follow, feel free to contact me.” Simon’s hand rose and loosely shook Xander’s hand. In a sudden blinding flash that filled the room, the god in a burgundy suit was gone. Along with his disappearance, Simon now found himself sitting on a dusty pile of boxes in a storage closet. He looked down in his hand and saw a business card. All sorts of strange runes and markings covered the card. The only line Simon understood was a email address and telephone number in the bottom right corner of the card. The boy still stood, leaning against the wall by the door.    

“He isn't the only one out there.Our world has many beings that have powers that would classify them as gods here. Only a few of us have decided to adventure out into this new world, where the value of following a god has decreased significantly. There are only going to be more beings like him, acting nice on the outside but really only looking to rip what power they can. You saw how angry he got when he realized his deal was ruined. But he still acted polite afterwards, hoping that someday you would get in a pinch tight enough to go to him for your help; selling your freedom and soul for little more than a party favor.Let me leave you with one last thing; an idea that will hopefully keep you away from types like him.” the boy’s burning eye turned to bore into Simon, past his physical self and into the ethereal pieces at the core of his being.

    ”It's not those that look like monsters you have to worry about, but those that hide themselves, that put on a comforting facade to lull you in. Its when you are faced with those who look the most comforting and friendly that you face the biggest monsters.”