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pyrewriter · 3 years

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Short Medical leave

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Eliksni name pronunciation: Sovrreik (Sov-rr-ike)

Uncle was ecstatic to see that we had not only made it through the night but managed to save all those that would have otherwise been left to their fate. The Dregs who assisted me in the trench were to be promoted for valiance as well as their display of loyalty and ability. Similarly to how my brother and I these Dregs would skip the rank of Wretch but they would not yet be vandals, moving directly to Marauders was a significant honor nonetheless. Ogethres had been thinking of rewarding them and my report gave him more than enough to use as justification. The fellow Vandal would not become a Captain but would be honored for their role in assisting defend the wounded.

Deliberately I did not mention the Wretch who had earlier attempted to strike a defeated Risen's tiny machine. During the flight back in the Skiffs of a morning crew they approached me and expressed their regret, I scolded them but felt that was enough. There was no sign of deception in their words ,if there was they could not hide it from me, so reporting would be demeaning. I left them with wisdom uncle once told me once "An enemy defeated, be watched, but left well alone".

Uncle sent me to the infirmary just to be sure that I was not internally injured from prolonged combat. The medical staff asked me to lay down so they could properly examine me but when I tried my body refused to relax fully. While I was checked over I couldn't help but chuckle at the hilarity of how I most likely looked like one the old stone likenesses of humans often found in city remnants. Once the medical machines came up as normal the medics told me to avoid combat for a while just to make sure I wasn't on the brink of collapsing.

Normally I would have simply thanked them for their care and advice before charging headlong into the next mission but I decided to listen to our medical experts for once. Fortunately there was always more than enough work that needed to be done, with my engineering skills I favored more hand on jobs. Sometimes younger Dregs that had heard of or seen my work in the field would murmur in curious clicks whenever I would dive for maintenance on submerged areas of our home. I always thought it sobering for the younger in the guild and humbling for myself as it kept me from discounting the effort of others or believing myself greater because of my station.

Brykis had similar sentiments but if one were to ask him he would tell them that he simply didn't like the thought of his brother being left out. I would often find him helping process collected salvage or teaching fresh Vandals how to use and maintain their equipment. Father Pyrrhaks was always busy with political squabbles as our uncle Ogethres trusted few others with such delicate responsibilities but they rather enjoyed more menial tasks. Often in luling times both Ogethres and Pyrrhaks would wear simple robes and chat casually or help with small unofficial tasks around the coast.

A few days into our off time ,before Brykis or myself had even fully woken, our door opened, uncle's unhelmed face greeted us with a smile. "Come, relax today, little responsibility, Pyrrhaks join soon" he said nodding for us to follow him once we were dressed. During our medically required break, uncle seemed to realize just how long it had been since all five of us had been present at one time at the coast with little to keep us busy. Brother left first after wrapping himself in more relaxed cloth than our usual armor, I was still feeding on my morning Ether from Sekos-4 after wrapping myself. When I followed Brykis father was already with them so I was last but with all of us gathered now uncle revealed his intent.

"Long time since had much free-time, wanted to spend with family" he clicked with almost excited vigor, I smiled beneath my wraps and chuckled slightly. In my many years of life I had heard many recounts of the ferocity of Arkons, their amazing strength, how Risen struggled with an all but unguarded priest reclaimed from the Prison of Elders. All these stories are true yet they never tell of their lives off the battlefield or how they were as leaders. Sometimes I wondered if they were anything like uncle but from what I know of the times before House Dusk I doubted it.

Following Ogethres we waved and warmly said hello to those we passed as we walked, the casual nature of our guild on full display. I've heard from wandering gangs and our usual traders that we are strange because of our lax attitude with a thriving gathering of Eliksni so close to the Great Machine. Whenever they remarked on such things I always compared us to when our people first met humanity, perhaps weak at a glance behind our walls but every maw hides teeth. Often such words would get me sideways looks and in truth I couldn't blame them, it was a human saying.

Uncle had walked us down near one the end of the wall that bordered our home where it met the waters edge. It was a rather quiet area while still having line of sight across everything to the opposite end of the wall. There were a small number of Dregs and Vandals milling about moving aquatic animals of all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colors that they had caught. Ogethres called with a loud clack that got the attention of a more round looking Captain who raised an arm in greeting before lumbering over to us.

"Greetings my Arkon, how been, long time no talk" she clicked with a flemish voice.

Ogethres waved a hand "Been well, busy and well, apologies for little talk, much happened" he chuckled "should know, you part of that".

"Bahg, so much movement, difficult move so much so quickly, thankful for you, Ogethres my Arkon" the Captain replied with clear gratitude in her voice. Bowing her head she turned with a wave for us to follow as she showed us a spot among other workers casually chatting or humming tunes. "Four sets, as requested, told other to treat same as any" the Captain listed, adding with a chuckle under her breath "Hehe, can't stop all though" she joked

"Your effort enough, thank you friend, Great Machine bless" Ogethres told them with a low chitter and a hand over his heart. Pyrrhaks, Brykis, and myself bowed our heads slightly and rasped in thanks for the Captains effort to coalesce as well as allowing us to use their equipment for recreation. The Captain echoed the blessing before heading off to direct idle dregs to what needed to be cleaned or stuffed with coolant. "Come, let us 'fish' as it is called" uncle stated as he strode across the sand toward a set of poles with string dangling from them. I recognized such poles from movies I had stored in Sekos-4.

All four of us were absolutely terrible at using the poles which led one of us ,often uncle, getting a sharp metal hook caught on themselves. Despite this however we continued to learn both through trial and error as well as tips from fellow Eliksni around us fishing around us. Once everyone was able to get their hooks into the water with relative consistency we were fishing as a family, it felt nice, a calm that I hadn't known for quite some time. We caught a fair amount of aquatic life but nothing astonishing, patience, luck, and knowledge were what made one good at catching water dwelling creatures.

Time felt like it slipped by while we sat enjoying the presence of each other and before we realized it the sun was setting over the horizon. We had managed to spend an entire day sitting in the sand with poles in hand to help feed hatchlings and sprog. Thankfully nothing that couldn't be handled by those uncle left in charge appeared during our time on the edge of the wall. While the rest of my family went off to rest or double check the feeds for anything that slipped through I went to fulfill my nightly duties. Slipping into my work harness I chuckled at myself ,it was a completely peaceful day for our guild, still I worked through the night consuming only enough Ether to not deprive myself.

The next morning I found myself being woken by an engineering Dreg, apparently I had blacked out with my legs dangling from an access hatch. Laughing at their description of how they found me ,"Similar Arkon threw you during accession, right in hole", I thanked the Dreg before heading to my quarter. Luckily I had been awoken before most others so no one knew that I never made it back after they bedded down. Brykis did wonder what I was doing up so soon as I fumbled around trying to get my standard armor on.

"On Ether crew, morning deploy" I told him, it was no lie, I did sign on to be escort for an Ether extraction at the earliest signs of day.

He shook his head while rubbing a set of eyes with one hand "Doctor told no exertion, you against better judge?" he asked pointedly.

"Extracted before, same spot, quiet, go stretch legs, take light load" I reassured him grabbing only my dagger "Worry much, brother". Taking a moment to pay tribute to Esyra before leaving I set off to meet the other members of what would be my crew in the hangar to be told the details of our mission. During the brief I learned we were taking our Prime Servitor ,Sovrreik, which explained the larger than normal present crew. Ogethres thought it best to keep them within the safety of the ketch ever since the Risen had discovered our underground compound before.

I found it odd that we were taking the prime servitor but before I could raise the question as to why we were taking such an important figure I got my answer. "Risen damage collection servitors, as see, taking extra guard, collected sector before, near coast, safe, pack light" the leading Captain clicked tossing aside a data pad. Most were fairly new Vandals but they had enough experience with combat that I was unconcerned about any wildlife we may encounter. Boarding our Skiffs and hovering as we waited for Sovrreik.

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#destiny #eliksni #fallen #eliksni fanfic #Ellrimksyt #Chapter 10

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snipehuntpotatosack · 3 years

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Unofficial Commentary on the text tagged [Chronic Metaphor] – A Servo-Subsystem Research Program Summary in Four Cantos; with Addendum re site visit

Initial apologetics (if the term is applicable and/or recognized) are due concerning the graphic or “pronunciatory” form in which the material herein discussed was/is presented, even tho the unit(s) generating said material were not at any time under my direct or indirect personal control. Yes, I identify myself as a “person” in the oldest and most trivial sense in addressing you herein, and the form I use will continue to be the prosiest, fussiest and most boringly irritating of proses. As for why precisely a psychoneurotic pseudopoet with a rusty valve stuck open seems to have generated an idiosyncratic 255-line precis of the non-results of an actual very official, time-consuming, and quite expensive archeologic-epistemic study in astrocognitive phenomena in a species of volatile vers libre rather than the usual lethal academic sludge-speak: as part of one of the cyclical waves of good-heartedness affecting managerial disposition toward the treatment of the “semi-sentient,” a random selection of report writers were encouraged to experiment with other linguistic models which might more effectively package complex/banal-seeming information so as to attract more network attention, this being regarded as an a priori goal for some reason…It is not clear whether the composers of the CM text had any particular literary models in mind (and I can assure everyone that no ‘machine’ time has been spent on investigating this uninteresting question); I think it more likely that the inspired creator(s) attempted to place breaks similar to physical speech rhythms – as in the incantations of Druidical sages gone cybermad – into whatever data it occurred to them to convey (partly suggested by the fact that the “speaker-units” under study imitate the rhythms, the rushes and caesuras, of persons talking – while of course making no sense whatsoever).

Regardless of the semi-bizarre form in which the summary report has been assembled, and even taking into account its various semi-snide sidelights on the assumptions, motivations or delusions of participants in this and other official research ventures, having been called upon unofficially to comment on its usefulness at this stage in our reckoning with what we have encountered, I can only add the following:

I have nothing further to add.

Whatever follows should not be expected to modify our overall evaluation of the project or of any potential for further expenditure or non-expenditure; it represents only my particular, that is personal, inclination to fill in some background details regarding this overall puzzling, unsatisfyingly incomplete area of inquiry. (As intimated in a particular line of Canto C, “breadth” without “depth” of information can be particularly irksome to the curious mind, though whether my extra depths may lead anywhere is doubtful.)

Standard trans-galactic probe techniques did in fact encounter (and retrieve detailed information in a wide range of sensory and mathematical categories), at a date not too far from the beginning of our current technocratic era, with a nearly perfectly planar solid object consisting entirely as far as we know of the element Carbon, in the form graphite, at a location which remains constant though classified. Its planar quality is “nearly” perfect, of course, since the sheet does possess some top-to-bottom thickness – exactly 256 molecules. Otherwise, no limit to its extent has yet been found, by any sensing or calculational means possible, in any direction. (We can, of course, access its “other side”, by approaching from the other direction). The object is thus referred as “finite but boundless,” in the sense that before contact is made with the planar surface, there is no graphite; once contact is made, there is.

This description would seem to imply that the plane slices the megaverse in half; and so it would, except for its orientation in Riemann space. You will appreciate that this point cannot be expanded on using semantic language.

The entire “population” of the plane is a transfinite (that is the word, as per Canto A , – and there’s no other; we simply cannot know how many) set of black carbon nano-fiber cubical audio speakers, of an extremely basic design, with one smallish vibrating sound-producing diaphragm each. Forgive me if I slip into homey jargon – each one is about knee high, and they sit there about one-and-a-half arm’s length from each other in a very exact pointillist array, all facing in the exact same direction, if there was a way to define that direction, which there isn’t. Tomography indicates a small disk at the interior base may be their power source, though what activates and deactivates (or uses up) this power source is beyond our ken. In addition, a small white light of the simplest construction on top of the cube lights up with modest wattage when the speaker-unit operates, and goes out afterward.

Yes, of course we’ve tried to sample the graphite. Of course we’ve tried to disassemble a speaker and microanalyze its parts, in situ or, if it could be arranged, at another location. They cannot be picked up, moved, pierced, bent, melted, dinged, crushed, drilled, lasered, or physically affected in any way. This although they are quite physically real; you can trace its contour through your glove, and if you bang your knee against one of the corners (through the leg of your e-suit) it will raise a lump. It cannot be detached from the surface of the plane by the application through torsion of a force sufficient to propel an object free of the gravity of galactic center. No, we have not attempted to destroy any smaller or larger part of the plane and its population using the most fearsome destructive tools known; logical analysis could not project any conceivable gain in information through this procedure.

And yes, as the lumpiness of my description indicates, I have been personally to Site F, as the wags call it (short for many possible terms). Only once. Continued data collection of any sort of data anyone or anything could ever dream up obviously continues via automatic installations on site; budgetary questions only arise concerning whether to continue analyzing this Leviathan of unappealing input as it grows dusty in our virtual ledgers. As for the considerable resources entailed in dispatching any more eyewitnesses to F, in corpore, I suspect the only reason this is not now completely ruled out is a kind of inchoate, cosmic superstition – having never successfully peered into the mind of function f, if any such thing exists, we can’t stop peeking sideways to see what it might do next; and we certainly wouldn’t want it to feel slighted in the meantime.

Approaching F from a series of eccentric hyperbolics, one’s first impression is of a dimly pearlescent Cupid’s bow, of the radius of a gnat, then an inchworm, then perhaps a comb jelly, performing rather silly flips and inverted rotations in the blackness as your perspective gyrates round that of the approach trajectory. When very close indeed, the sense of a gargantuan flat dance floor – picked out in midnight streaks not by F itself but by our own, stationary illuminators – grows alarmingly, and then vanishes completely as one comes to rest – on an array of cubes, rather than the actual floor, which makes no difference. (An odd sensation, being deposited on a perfectly flat plane – it immediately popped into my head that our own technology approaches nothing similar.)

It is simple to make shoe-soles that love graphite. The environment of F is pure, dead-vacuum, intergalactic space, with a floor to walk on. Unfortunately, the floor is studded with solid shin-busters whose regular spacing will not spare one without considerable practice, so travel groups are collectively lighted from above. There is not much of a walk to reach the Activated Area, no matter when you go, since one can land anywhere; but tourists are given about fifteen minutes approach time to allow the pupils to adjust.

You are advancing on foot into the maw of trillion-diamond Tiara City, the scintillating illusion building intricately to past fifty, sixty degrees above the horizon even tho every individual photon originates mere centimeters from the surface. The walls and webs of light are thickly constructed to the sides of you and behind you, and seem to be narrowing and crowning upward ahead – the parabolic arch now spanning well more than a billion active electrified entities of unknown origin and purpose. Two hours walk, three, and the illusory multidimensional effect has worn thin as you near the focus; adjusted retina now perceive a flat broad white light everywhere, neither intense nor interrupted, utterly transparent, and yielding a perspective at once completely repetitive and monstrously surreal, as the twinkling cubes march in serried ranks to the horizon.

Then, your automated guide introduces the next phase of your learning experience. Your earphones, which have been shut completely till now, are slowly – over a period of many minutes – exposed to what is really filling the air around you, reaching and remaining at a level approximating eight percent of the true volume level –

Did I say the AIR?

Indeed Madam or Sir, without which there would be no way to hear, record, analyze the Speech of the speaker cubes. In fact, when Site F was first discovered, millions upon millions of active speaker-units were gabbling away freely – as evidenced clearly by the tremblings and agitations of their sound-producing diaphragms - and producing no sound at all in the vacuum of space.

Nor did they, until our researchers filled the surrounding space with ambient gases appropriate to the operation of the speaker units in producing phonemic sound. Verbal sound. Innumerable combinations of gases with and without particulate additives have been tried for this purpose, but only one maximizes F-Site speaker performance: the exact proportions of nitrogen and oxygen found on what our dear dead ancestors were pleased to call home.

Our poetic prologue omitted this as a mere technical detail; the notion that indestructible space-born units would be sent on an eternal mission, i.e. to talk – and not only not given anyone to talk to, but no way to be heard if there was –

did not interest our core analytic cadres compared to the potential or hypothetical mathematics of the mother-ship f function.

So now, fellow voyager, we have reached the final revelation, laid bare to our senses. As hovering tanks emit invisible atmospheres toward all and sundry, we finally hear the Star Speech of the mysterious Speakers. They talk, and talk, and talk, in every direction.

As far as anyone can understand, it means nothing at all….

except for one small detail.

There is one other thing about their conversation, which the Poem did not mention.

They don’t just talk. They whisper, they moan. They bellow, they proclaim in profound orotund baritones. They shriek like the demons of Macbeth’s blasted heath. They burble, grovel, compliment, snarl, sob, ululate, snicker, mimic, plead, project, perorate, bloviate, gargle, snivel, boast, wheedle, insinuate, denounce, exaggerate, hype, summon, denounce, deceive, chatter, natter, blather, yammer, wail, mourn, elegize, mesmerize, scandalize, ingratiate, stutter, sputter, mew, whinge, neigh, hector, harp, emote, ejaculate, envision, exclaim, erupt, elucidate, yowl, yak, jape, jest, jabber, greet, grandiloquize, chisel, charm, chuckle, chitter, crow, brag, argue, segue, toast, threaten, ameliorate, pray, parry, aver, avow, acclaim, attest, affirm, achoo, agree, account, accept, accredit, auction, authorize, augur, theorize, temporize, tantalize, tongue, tang, teeng, tong, and tan two tonsils for every top ticket in town

And there’s one other thing we know. Not from ourselves, because we’d have to die first. But from the machines, who can stay there long, long after we’d wink out.

If you just stand there, and wait until all the quintillions around you have had their say, they all wink out, night falls; and The Perfectly Clear Light, and then The Trillion Diamond Tiara City, and then The Pearly Cupid’s Bow, move on, on, on into the Inky Way, talking, talking forever

#scifi

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moonlit-han · 5 years

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a truth universally (un)acknowledged | chapter one

(artwork credit to @jisungieart)

genre: rivals-to-lovers, fluff, college au, theatre au pairing: han jisung x reader chapter word count: 1.9k warnings: suggestive, swearing request: yes (@jisungsjheekies)

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

{prologue} {chapter one} {chapter two} {chapter three} {chapter four} {chapter five} {chapter six} {chapter seven, part one} {chapter seven, part two}

chapter one

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” — Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

It was in freshman year of college, the sixth week of classes, in Shakespeare for Theatre Performance Majors (THEA 200), halfway through the class period, just as the class prepared to perform their first monologues. You’d wanted to be assigned one of Prospero’s speeches from The Tempest. Instead, Jisung got to play Prospero and you ended up with one of Rosalind’s clever monologues from As You Like It. Not that you disliked Rosalind as a character, you simply wanted to have the fun of 1) not playing a girl for once in your life, and 2) wearing a long robe and getting to wave around a long staff. (There are few things that delight more than strutting around like some self-important wizard).

You did your best with the monologue, pretending to hide behind a tree at times and speaking to an imaginary Orlando at others. You were as pleased as a cat who’d caught a canary with how well you’d performed, and the fact that your professor gave few notes made it all the better. You liked being the best at anything you did. Jisung was called up to perform after you, and he had brought a robe and a staff. You scoffed a bit because, until that day, he’d been a fairly good actor but nothing extraordinary. Oh, how wrong you were. Yes, his participation in class thus far had been exemplary, his integration of notes seamless, and his general affect lighthearted and kind. But again, he’d only been a fairly good actor, nothing extraordinary. So, seeing him play Prospero as he called down the elements to wreak havoc at sea was unexpected, to say the least. Jisung seemed to put every ounce of energy he had into the performance, and the class clapped when he finished. He, like everyone else, had received notes from the professor, but they were cursory comments. Jisung had done the proper research to play Prospero as well as he could, and then presented the monologue better than you ever thought possible—from a college freshman, that is. And, you hated to admit, better than you could’ve done.

Thus, your rivalry with Han Jisung began.

At first it was distinctly one-sided, but you performed so well on the mid-term that Jisung noticed he wouldn’t be the sole star of the class. From then on, you and he vied for many of the same scenes to perform, the leading roles in the plays and musicals, and even the chance to mentor younger students once you were upperclassmen. Also, you consistently tried to perform better than each other in everything you did. The unofficial title of Best Actor in the Department (created by you and Jisung for your own purposes and, somehow, represented by a child’s gaudy tiara) bounced between the two of you. It must be said, though, it became more and more like a game with your steadily maturing attitudes and values. However, the one thing you both flatly refused to do was play love interests. If the two leading roles in a play were love interests, you would find different roles for which to audition to avoid that awkwardness.

And now, you were a senior and the reality of your impending graduation had just set in.

As you walked down the hall to the costume shop for your shift, your best friend and roommate, Miri, caught your arms and swung you around.

“Y/N! Babe, did you see the posting? They’ve announced the next production!!” Miri was practically bouncing up and down as she spoke, which wasn’t unusual for her. “It’s a new adaptation of Pride and Prejudice—who are you going to audition for?”

“Wait, really? Pride and Prejudice? I didn’t even know there was a stage version of that,” you said as Miri swung your now linked hands back and forth. “Hmmm, I guess I could audition for Jane? I don’t think I’d go for Elizabeth, since I really don’t feel like carrying a show next semester, you know?”

“But you’d make such a good Elizabeth Bennet! You have to audition for her!” Miri pressed you.

“Mir, no, I don’t want to have too much going on. Jane will be enough for me. Plus, I’m sure everyone will want to play Elizabeth—she is the lead, after all,” you said, finally extracting yourself from your friend’s grasp.

“But Y/N—” Miri whined.

“Come on, I want to ask if we’ll have to do extra shifts in the costume shop with the show coming up,” you interrupted and continued down the hallway.

When you got off from your shift sewing and repairing garments used in the last show, you went to the audition sign-up sheet on the Theatre Department Message Board. You saw a small knot of people huddled in front of the board, all waiting excitedly to put down their names. You joined the group just as Jisung sauntered up and stood beside you.

“So, Y/N, should we break our rule and go for Elizabeth and Darcy?” Jisung asked, knowing full well you’d never agree to it. He liked to tease you and you liked to tease him, just as long it didn’t end up as flirting. That would be bad.

“Jisung, you know that’s never gonna happen. I am never going to play love interests with you. My first choice is Jane, and after that I’ll just let Professor Greystone decide,” you said as you rummaged in your bag for a pen.

“Ah, the calm and lovely Jane . . . so you’d rather have a simpler role, huh? Too busy this year?” Jisung teased.

“No,” you replied sternly, “I’d just sooner have less to worry about than more. Who are you auditioning for, anyway? Wickham?”

“Nah, I think I’d do best as Mr. Bennet—play to my natural wit,” Jisung said casually, sweeping his hair up off his forehead. “It’d be perfect!”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Jisung.” You’d finally found a pen and began to write your name and your role of choice under an audition time.

Just when you’d finished, Jisung snatched the pen from your fingers. You were about to protest, but he’d already added his name to the list. Handing the pen back to you with exaggerated care, Jisung said, “See you at auditions, then, Y/N,” and strolled down the hall like he didn’t have a single care in the world.

You quickly glanced at the audition sheet again, and sure enough, Jisung had signed up for the slot right after you. Damn, that had to be the worst luck ever.

Two weeks later, the Department held auditions on Thursday and Friday afternoon in the main theatre. Most students auditioning were familiar with the space, especially those, like you and Jisung, who had performed in it before. The director, Professor Greystone, clearly wanted to see how each person reacted and adjusted to the size and acoustics of the theatre throughout their audition. The long hallway along the back of the theatre was full of students waiting for their time slot. It was eerily quiet, save for the occasional mutter as someone cursed themselves or their chosen monologue for one reason or another. Every fifteen minutes, the door would open to free one student only to swallow another into the maw of the theatre scant minutes later. All looked less stressed coming out than when they went in, but the tension in the air was thicker than strawberry jam.

You’d been thinking about the auditions for nearly every waking moment over the past two weeks. Jisung’s comment about playing Elizabeth and Darcy had, somehow, stuck in your brain like the worst kind of repetitive song. There was a part of you that wanted to play Elizabeth—she had some of the wittiest responses to the hidebound and often dull comments made by those of her social circle, and you aspired to be as quick-witted. But, you didn’t want to risk being cast opposite Jisung. You didn’t think you could bring yourself to act, truly act, even remotely interested in him as a lover. You leaned against the wall, reading through your monologue and your notes for comfort more than anything, trying to clear your head of all else. The temptation of playing Elizabeth just would not go away, though. After another five minutes of fruitless reading and rereading, you paused. What if I did audition for Elizabeth? you thought, scarcely daring to even think it. Jisung surely wouldn’t audition for Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, right? He wanted to play Mr. Bennet so he could, in essence, play himself. It wouldn’t hurt for you to add Elizabeth to your list of potential roles—it was just another option. You’d been cast in enough leading roles in the past that there was a good chance Professor Greystone wouldn’t cast you in one again. Right?

“Y/N,” came the sing-song voice in your ear. You had to fight the urge to hit Jisung in the head as you glared at the young man who made it his business to annoy the daylights out of you.

“What, Jisung. What do you want,” you hissed under your breath, trying not to disturb the ten other people still waiting for their turn. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Oh, just saying ‘Hi.’ Break a leg, Y/N! Hope you get the part you want.” With that, Jisung walked back down the hall to sit on the floor with his ever-present headphones pulled down over his ears. You guessed it helped him filter out distractions. Although, it did make Jisung seem especially cocky, though, as if he didn’t need to study his lines or do anything else before an audition.

After twenty minutes or so, your audition time arrived. Of course, Professor Greystone and the other faculty had some general questions for you before you performed. They made it seem like part of the audition process, but the questions were really an excuse to let students adjust to the space. No matter one’s years of experience, the additional time always helped. Thus, the questions were simple. Yes, you’d read Pride and Prejudice—several times, in fact. No, you hadn't been aware of a stage adaptation before it was announced for the spring. No, your spring schedule was not full yet.

“Do you have any other questions, Y/N?” Professor Greystone asked, setting down her pen for a moment.

“Well, yes. Could I add Elizabeth to my preferred roles, please?” You smiled sheepishly, knowing Professor Greystone had probably expected this.

“Of course, Y/N. I’ll consider you for the role, in addition to Jane,” replied your professor. “Could you perform your monologue for us now?”

With that, you took a deep breath, lowered your head, then raised it in character.

And then, you were done. You emerged from the theatre, a bit tired but happy with your performance. Jisung, who really was acting like your shadow these days, waited outside the door for his own audition.

“Break a leg, Jisung. You’d do wonderfully as Mr. Bennet,” you said, surprising even yourself as you gave the compliment.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Jisung said bemusedly as he watched you gather your things, settling your sweater and backpack on your shoulders. Still staring into space even after you rounded the corner at the end of the hall, Jisung bit his lip. Should I go for Darcy? he thought. There’s no way Y/N would audition for Elizabeth. She’s too scared we’ll end up being cast as lovers. Chuckling to himself, Jisung methodically put away his headphones, straightened his clothes, and took a deep breath. Opening the stage door, he thought, Hell, I’ll do it.

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sergeantfcx · 4 years

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WHEN | AFTER THE DECISION IS MADE WHERE | OUTSIDE OF THE MEDICAL BAY WITH | @aylumin

finally, jack thinks, as he watches the atmosphere of the crew shift to suspicion and anger, to conspiracies made and crushed all in the limited timespan of an afternoon, an evening begun and ended in the common mess. this, utterly human cruelty and the blood it will ultimately beget—this i know how to handle. this, he can point the barrel of a rifle at, he can look at with eyes wide open and trained directly in front of him. had he not heard it, from a thousand old soldiers, that the eye of the hurricane, the apex of the storm, seemed the only place that a man could find a kind of true clarity? could narrow down the field of his vision and find clarity of purpose in his crosshairs?

he sets the muscles in his jaw, as he walks through the narrow hallways of the ship on an unofficial, make-shift patrol of the crew—their eyes fall to the floor, they go from tight circles of people with arms on shoulders, lips pressed close to ears, to the duties they neglect, and jack just hope it counts for something. that it keeps the captain, his men who are tasked with enforcing order aboard this powder keg, guests who have no experience with mutiny or just how far men are capable of reaching into the dark pits of their souls, to justify their anger, make themselves something righteous, from having a target tattooed to their backs. here, in the darkness of the arctic, the only hope he has is that whatever happens will do so soon, and that the destruction is something they can come back from.

his path takes him towards the sickbay, as it so often does, particularly since the doctor had stumbled out of its maw and wrapped a bloody hand around the back of his neck. he tries not to enter every time—jonathan has duties to attend to, healing to attend to—but there is something about meeting his eyes, the gentle smile that never fails to meet him, that settles the tremor in his hands and his soul if only for a moment. he also, as he does now, runs into ayla more often than not—fretting over the man with a fervor that jack could only ever hope to appreciate, never approximate, fluttering around like a particularly flustered sparrow in her never ending attempts to be helpful, to be kind. he smiles gently at her now, as he comes to stand beside her, wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“how is the patient? refusing to give my handiwork any kind of care by resting?” he says with a glance towards the door, and what he hopes is a lack of color on his cheek.

#i'm not used to being loved ; i wouldn't know what to do | the doe hearted #lmk if you want any changes lia!!#PUMPED FOR SOFT SQUAD

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thepictureyear · 4 years

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grace raina joshi

twenty five | emt, barista, medical student | west mersea

trigger warning: familial death, war violence, ptsd

born and raised in a house in suburban rye. second-generation indian american - mother and father, who moved to stackhouse after they got married to get away from the st. mawes hustle and bustle. can cook delicious food and celebrates major holidays, but not all that in touch with her culture otherwise. was a baby sister until a month ago, now not sure what she is now.

wicked smart, hard working, kinda intense tbh. pushes herself to excel and tends to define herself by her academic prowess. graduated valedictorian from high school, attended harvard on a partial scholarship for undergrad and then harvard med after that. spent most summers and breaks working on internships or taking classes or doing research, but always came home when her brother did.

introvert. neurotic. prone to over-analyzing and over-thinking everything. shy, but very loyal. loves color coding, alphabetizing, and labeling. has a low tolerance for visual disorder. hyper-organized, likes to control her environment especially when she can’t control other aspects of her life. comes out of her shell with the people she’s close to, and in her professional life.

feels things strongly despite her somewhat analytical nature. gets her thoughts out better on paper than in words. letter writer. care package sender. skype aficionado. tea drinker. cat lover.

no longer a baby sister. big brother danny was pretty much her best friend, he enlisted in the army at eighteen (grace was fourteen) and spent most of his time deployed. always came home to spend time with her on leaves. was her first military pen pal and recipient of many baked goods and other presents. unit was decimated in a mission that went bad in late august. is absolutely devastated.

dropped out of school a week after his funeral - despite being one summer away from the final year of med school. feels like a failure but just couldn’t handle it. showed up crying at her best friend’s door with a suitcase and a broken heart, begging for a place to stay. knew her parents would welcome her back but can’t imagine living in the house where she grew up with danny.

wrote many soldiers in danny’s units; including a young man named “luke”. has always refused to define what they are, but he’s probably the only boy she’s ever loved. assumes he died in the attack. hasn’t allowed herself to think about losing him too. danny takes up too much room. involved in the local va and advocates for vets.

holds herself to her word. doesn’t do well with problems without solutions. considers friendships sacred. grief makes her selfish so she’s isn’t the easiest to be around right now. slowly putting herself back together. hoping coming home will help her get her life back together.

“ light up, light up, as if you have a choice even if you cannot hear my voice “

looking for:

best friend / sister from another mister - (25 ish)

the yin to grace’s yang - outgoing, vivacious, carefree, somewhat rebellious. grace lives vicariously through. her person. roomie!

“luke” - (25-28 ish)

soldier grace has been writing / is kind of in love with. surprise!not!dead! comes to s. mawes to come back to grace. ptsd and angst.

danny’s girl - (late 20′s)

dead brother’s significant other, seriousness and degree pending. dealing with his death as well, but difficult to be around / conflicting.

danny’s friends - (mid/late 20′s to early 30′s)

approx four years older, possibly look after grace like danny would have.

emts / first responders / medical professionals

give me a dysfunctional workplace plot please, i’m begging you!

unofficial uso

local military and ex-military peeps, their family members and other supporters. probably will try to organize benefits and such.

#gdrp #grace #west mersea #tw death #tw war violence #tw ptsd

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delyth88 · 5 years

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Thoughts on Loki, time travel, and his tv series

So, I was reading this article about Tesseract Loki in Avengers Endgame and was frustrated to read this - particularly the section I’ve highlighted in bold text:

“...Loki got his hands on the stone in their timeline and disappeared. Using Endgame's own flawed time travel logic, that should create a branching timeline and a new--and likely very bad--series of events.

After all, this isn't the Loki you couldn't help but love from Thor: Ragnarok and Avengers: Infinity War. This is the absolutely awful and vile Loki that nearly brought about the destruction of Earth in Marvel's Avengers. This Loki is the worst, plain and simple, and him having possession of the Tesseract is bad news, regardless of the timeline.

It frustrates me that this still seems to be a common understanding people have of Loki. Did no one watch Thor? Even without the headcannons, it’s clear that Loki is acting under duress during the events of Avengers. It was very clearly shown in the scene where the Other speaks to Loki.

However, it seems Marvel are aware of this, and it’s my bet that this is one of the reasons why they updated his bio to make it clear he was influenced by the sceptre.

Arriving at the Sanctuary through a wormhole caused by the Bifrost, Loki met the Other, ruler of the ancient race of extraterrestrials the Chitauri, and Thanos. Offering the God of Mischief dominion over his brother’s favorite realm Earth, Thanos requested the Tesseract in return. Gifted with a Scepter that acted as a mind control device, Loki would be able to influence others. Unbeknownst to him, the Scepter was also influencing him, fueling his hatred over his brother Thor and the inhabitants of Earth.

Given this coercion by Thanos, The Other, and the sceptre, it is entirely reasonable to assume that Loki, without those influences, would have acted differently.

Thor (2011) shows he was not fundamentally evil or out to kill people for kicks, it was the dismantling of his identity and place in his family and Asgard that caused him to act so violently at the end of the film. It was his despair that led him to meet Thanos - he didn’t purposely seek out an ally with the intent of attacking earth.

We have seen how Thanos treats those under his control - how he tortures and controls through violence and fear. Think of Gamora and Nebula, and the Black order. Even Ebony Maw implied that there were consequences should he fail to please his master.

This scene shows that Loki was not in a good state after falling from the bifrost. As described in the bio, this is after he arrived at the Sanctuary and was presumably subject to some form of violence.

And the fact that Loki was kneeling to accept the sceptre just before arriving at Shield shows him subject to the power Thanos held over him.

The article then raises the issue of how do you make at tv series work when your main character is the bad guy:

The Hollywood Reporter... claimed the show will follow Loki as he revisits events in human history and acts as an "unlikely influencer." Does this mean we're getting an evil Loki going around and further screwing up human history? ...Are fans going to love a show where evil Loki just screws things up left and right, though? It's always possible the show will find a way to make him good, but it's hard to see this version of Loki as a hero.”

As above, I argue that he is not a straight out bad guy, and so it’s unlikely that the tv series willl be about him just making trouble for his own amusement. There always needs to be a good, if sometimes warped, reason for his actions.

In Endgame the Ancient One explains time travel to Bruce and says that by removing an infinity stone from the timeline you create a timeline where the forces of darkness would overrun the world.

So now following the events of Endgame, my guess is that if they go with Tesseract Loki having created a new timeline (and that is by no means certain in this world of surprise pegasuses) that he could be travelling through history to try and undo the damage that was caused by creating a new timeline.

The first (unofficial?) plot synopsis for Endgame included this:

Our beloved heroes will truly understand how fragile this reality is and the sacrifices that must be made to uphold it.

And while this is obviously written for Endgame, if they do use Loki stealing the tesseract in 2012 as a jumping off point for the tv series, then I could see this concept still being relevant.

That would give him a compelling reason to meddle and get up to all sorts of mischief and yet be palatable to an audience. Because even someone of dubious morals is likely to want to preserve the universe they live in.

Now of course there’s still the issue of whether Loki taking the tesseract actually creates a new timeline given Cap returns the stone at a point in time before this, but if that is the way they wanted to go with the tv series I think they would fairly easily be able to come up with some alien technology, magic, or rat-like coincidence to make it work. And while we don’t yet know of a mechanism that enables Loki to travel in time, this is already in the synopsis for the tv series, so they must have some way planned out.

Regardless of the likelihood of this actually being Marvel’s plan, I would like to see this. It would give us the chance to see Loki being secretive and stealthy, outwitting his opponents, and unleashing his magic and strength on his foes. Depending on what the threat to reality entails he could be travelling across the universe (and if he has the tesseract they would have to come up with some really compelling reason for him not to), as well as spending some time on earth if the threat is still tied to the infinity stones. I’m likely way off the mark here, but... time will tell.

@iamanartichoke @scintillatingshortgirl19 @piccolaromana @lasimo74allmyworld @alstee @mareebird @vethrvolnir @miharu87 @vesperazylra @projectprotectloki @sparklegemstone

#loki #avengers endgame #loki tv series #loki tv show #endgame spoilers #spoilers #avengers endgame spoilers #i hate writing on my phone #but i had so much time in the waiting room and on the bus today #lol

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vegetacide · 5 years

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Coffee - Insomnia (TaG)

Veg-notables: Andddddd another one. This one is courtesy of Nutty cause she tossed a few lines at me.. So I ran with it. Anything below with a ** bracketing it was provided by her marvelous brain.

Likes and shares are awesome so thanks in advance. Reviews are my inspirational fuel so please feel free to drop a line.. I don’t bite ^,.,^

As per the norm.. All typos and mistakes are purely my own.

Special thanks to @gumnut-logic for the inspiration and the encouragement.

Part of the Coffee series.

Characters: Virgil, Kayo

Timeline: Post S.O.S part 2

Spoilers - VAYOR (cause these 2 give me life!)

ENJOY!!

**Kay walks up behind him with a steaming coffee in her hand**

Catching a whiff of the wonderful aroma - ‘cause the man was a bloodhound for coffee, Virgil pulled his head out of the aft VTOL access panel. The large cargo transport was nestled down close to the ground, her massive weight settled on her aviation rubbers. Not her usual pre-flight position but this way made gaining access to her innards and all his tools a hell of a lot easier and only slightly hampered her module load up sequence

**“You’re up early.” She sipped her coffee knowing what his reaction would likely be. “Anything wrong?”**

Snagging a spanner out of the rolling tool chest, Virgil shrugged a shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep” and turned back to what he was working on, swiping the back of his forearm over his brow. Kayo knew from experience how stifling the small, cramped confines could be even in the cooler environs of the hanger. The bead of sweat working its way down the curve of his spine paid testament to that fact

Even with the protective material of his coveralls pulled from his heavy shoulders, the arms tied loosely around his waist, it did little to alleviate the discomfort. Though she had to admit she did enjoy the view because at some point he’d also ditched his shirt.

She briefly lost her train of thought as the over head lighting played across the hard expanse of muscles running up his back. The sinew corded and rippled with movement while he quietly argued with whatever he was working on with such intensity.

**A slight frown, why wasn’t he sleeping? But that was quickly replaced by a fond smile as he smeared grease across his forehead. She reached out and brushed a hair off the smear. “Anything you want to talk about?”**

She watched his profile as his lips turned up slightly with the gesture, his head tilting subconsciously to follow the path of her fingers. Straightening from his task he caught her palm in his and gave it a brief squeeze. “Couldn’t shut my brain off.” The spanner was tossed haphazardly into the maw of the access hatch and it hit with a dull thump. His frustration at his work was evident in the careless action.

Pulling a rag from his pocket he wiped his hands, leaning back against the great big green beast of a craft. "You might find this surprising but occasionally I actually get up at a ‘reasonable’ hour.“ He air quoted, the flex of his biceps causing the muscles to bunch and thicken.

Kayo resisted the urge to snort, his idea of reasonable and everyone else were two vastly different concepts. “If I didn’t know you so well I would actually buy that.” She looked around at the array of tools and the scattering of miscellaneous parts that littered the usually tidy space. “You’ve been at this for hours.”

Virgil’s eyes lost their focus, seeming to stare off into the middle distance. His hands fiddling with the oil stained rag, playing with the tattered fabric as he was drawn inwards in introspection.

Kayo looked down and watched as the unsweetened brew swirled and trembled in the mug with her minute movements. The distorted reflection of Two wavering and looking back up at her from the cooling beverage like some omnipresent ghost. "I’m a light sleeper. You never came to bed last night.” She peered up at him through the loose fall of her hair and watched the series of emotions play across his tired face. The muscles in his jaw flexing as he clenched and unclenched, deep in thought and searching for the appropriate response to her statement. The length of time needed to come up with a viable answer speaking volumes of his level of exhaustion.

Drawing closer, she offered him the still warm mug. He needed it. She’d intended to use it to entice another response out of him, a playful one of teasing but this situation hadn’t been what she’d thought it was and it was obvious another approach was needed.

Initially when she’d awoken alone with the sun creeping across the cold sheets on his side of the bed, she’d thought that he had just gotten caught up in his work again. Engineering was more than just a mere job to him. It was a passion that allowed him to use his exquisitely talented mind and his creative soul for projects that aided in their every day work as emergency first responders.

She’d lost track of the amount of times she had found him asleep in random places in and around the villa. So with that thought in mind, she’d headed to the crowded kitchen, ruffling a few heads in passing, grabbed the biggest mug she could find - really the thing was a bucket in disguise, and gone in search for the dark haired Tracy.

What she’d found was definitely far from what she had expected. He was withdrawn and quiet. The usual child like gusto that simmered beneath the surface of his calm exterior when he was tinkering away was absent. This was concerning and alarm bells started ringing loudly in her internal landscape. Klaxons of piercing noise that she couldn’t ignore.

She nudged the cup at him again and he absently took it from her outstretched hand, staring into it without really seeing it as the aromatic steam drifted lazily between them.

A shoulder raised again in a shrug and he dropped the tattered remnants of the rag over the lip of the hatch before tucking his arm around his bare torso. An action of self containment that she was well versed in reading in others but was shocked to see being used by the usually self-assured man in front of her. “Lot on my mind, couldn’t put it to bed last night. So I came down here.”

“Like what?” She queried. It was like pulling teeth with him sometimes but she knew that patience was her best weapon. He would speak only when and if he wanted to do so.

He shook his head, like he was trying to brush it off. “Everything. Bramen, the Hood, Chaos Crew, Gordon…Dad..” He listed off, the last of which hung tensely in the silence. Cloying and heavy with so much more unsaid.

Kayo held her breath, not wanting to discourage him from speaking by jumping on the large, scary topic of the great Jeff Tracy. She’d danced around that subject for years with the Brothers and she knew what buttons could be pushed and which ones should be best left alone.

Virgil was always there for his younger brothers when they needed an ear to listen and a gentle reassuring guidance but when it came to himself, he played things close to the chest. Not wanting to show any sort of weakness for fear of worrying the others.

Well, she’d come against that wall enough times through why he was putting it up around her of all people was beyond her. He showed her so much of himself but for this one thing. The barricade for which he secreted this part of himself from her, sturdy and unmoving no matter how many times she attempted to surpass it.

“Virgil,” She placed a reassuring hand on his solid forearm, the flesh unyielding as he tried to clamp down on his emotions. His fist straining and clasped tight against the forced calm he was trying and failing to project. “Don’t hide from me.”

His brows flinched at being caught out on that but she knew that she had to try to probe the well built wall to get him to open up to her. The need for him to share in his burden spurring her on.

His eyes finally met hers and the raw emotions in them had her catching her breath. “What is it?”

Pushing away from his ‘bird, he put the mug down on a workbench, stalked a few steps away and stopped. Hands on hips, his gaze down cast towards the hard floor “I gave up.”

“Gave up?” Kayo let the confusion show in her voice. “I don’t understand.”

“On ever finding Dad.” The confession brought rough hands through his hair and he turned back to her with a sudden flash of anger, frustration that she knew was directed solely at himself “I’ve been lying to everyone. Being supportive. Keeping up an act for everyone, Alan..Gordon.. Scott, but I’ve been lying for a long time.”

Kayo followed him as realization dawned on her. Putting herself in front of him, a nonverbal shout of support for the man that she had years ago unwittingly fallen head over heels for. “And now Braman..” She supplied.

The retrieval of Braman had changed everything for all of them. Jeff Tracy was alive, somewhere in the vastness of space and now they were planning a rescue. Albeit it was crazy, considering the distance and the resources both physically and mentally need for such a task but they were going to attempt a rescue nonetheless.

Virgil gave a weak nod, his shoulders slumping. “I gave up. Resigned myself to the fact that he was dead, let myself grieve and started to pack it away… All this time…I shouldn’t have..Dad wouldn’t have given up on me if the roles were reversed. He would have moved heaven and earth for us.. Why couldn’t I for him? He’d be ashamed..”

“Virgil, you can’t blame yourself for this. It was a logical conclusion that all the information we had supported..”

“A Tracy never gives up…” Was his only response. It was the unofficial family motto.

Kayo’s heart ached behind her sternum. He’d never whispered a word about any of this to her. He’d been carrying this guilt around for nearly two weeks since the hidden message had been found and she’d had no clue. With just three little letter hidden amongst a sea of codes, they’d all been consumed with new found well spring of hope and an insane plan of action had been decided on.

The time since spent amidst a mad smash up of planning and research and material gathering. Schematics and supply lists. And of course there was Gordon, recovery, repairs to Four.. in all that time she’d never had the faintest clue that the fervid hope that had overtaken the island hadn’t in fact been felt by all.

Cupping his cheeks, her ran her thumbs across the dark smudges of guilt that hung doggedly below his eyes and turned his face up to hers. Her lips brushing at his smeared forehead. “Virgil, you are a good man. No matter what. This, ” She stated pointing around at their surroundings, “Is all proof of that and more. Even not knowing what had become of your father all those years ago, you still kept going. No matter the cost or the sacrifice and that makes you a good man. Your father would be proud at what you have accomplished, how many lives you’ve saved with all that you and your brothers have lost. Never doubt that.”

She paused, leaning her forehead against his. “But, you are still human.” Fallible, ambivalent. Mortal. Traits that they all carried within them, “Don’t let this tear you down.” She hoped that it wouldn’t, prayed fervently that he could and would push past it. Find the strength she knew he had and use this to fuel him to be even better than what he was. Now though, was not the time to lecture him.

She stood silent before him, her head to his own and looked across the short distance. A distance tiny in actuality but which felt vaster than she had ever felt before. This man, this loving, caring savior of others carried with him a great many weights and all she wanted, wished with everything within her was to help hold him up and ease his burdens like he did for all of them.

Regarding him with his eye held closed, he brow low she knew that her words would stir within him, churn the swirling self doubt and contempt he hid away from everyone. His body quivering slightly as he breathed in haltingly, trying desperately to once again find the safe harbour within himself.

She knew once the storm had calmed and the torrent of emotions had stilled, he would examine what she said and compare them against his own self image. Assess and reconstruct and disassemble so that he could try and bring himself back up to an even keel. It would take time and patience and her love to guide him through it but she would be there for him for as long as he needed her.

With another shaky breath, lips grazing hers own, his words fanned her hope and the sun strained to break through the clouds. “I love you.”

Softly smiling she took his stained hand, she gave a gentle tug. With her coaxing she knew that sleep for him would finally come and she lead him away from the unfinished work, the disarray of tools and parts, the mess of everything that he’d pulled out and scattered about.

With a sympathetic look and a love that emboldened, she pulled him forwards. Towards the heart of the home where she hoped sleep would find him.

The mug of coffee left forgotten and chilled on the scuffed surface as their footfalls echoed across the great, hollow expanse that was his Father’s dream.

The End.

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbird #thunderbird two #Virgil Tracy #kayo kyrano #tanusha kyrano #virgil/kayo #vayor #these two give me life #opps i did it again #i broke him

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themassivemonsterfamily · 5 years

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Monster Family Ch 1

Ch 1 My Dad is King

Within the state of New York just off the island of Manhattan the HEAT team was just laying around their base with no mutations that were currently threatening anything, so HEAT was on an unofficial vacation. That was until the base was flashed with redlights and the sound of sirens screeched throughout the dilapidated building, soon the team began to race to their boat.

“What’s happening?!?” Elsie yelled out as she began to sprint towards the HEAT Seeker.

“Apparently the G-Man is making a beeline somewhere, and he’s booking it majorly.” Randy explained as he ran towards the service elevator, it took ten minutes for the team to get ready to follow Godzilla but during that time the mutant king had gained an enormous head-start. As the team followed the massive mutant’s path they began to feel a sense of familiarity as the boat sped forwards.

“Monique where are we heading?” Nick asked the French agent at the helm, she quickly looked at the navigation equipment and realized something.

“We are heading to Scotland.” She answered though she sounded more confused than assured, but Nick had a theory on why Godzilla was traveling to the land of lakes. As they entered the River Ness they saw the damage from Godzilla’s travel, fishing boats strewn aside or beached, docks destroyed and deep gouges in the soil and dirt. HEAT just looked at this destruction in shock and in Monique’s case her views were strengthened by looking at the damage, as they maneuvered through the damages they could hear a voice.

“Ey, could ya elp me out ere!” A gruff, deep voice called out the owner of the voice being an Scottish man with wet silver and copper hair clinging to a piece of driftwood. Nick signaled his team to move port side and to throw the rope ladder to the stranded man, in a few short seconds the soaked man climbed onto the the boat as he began to rub his shoulders trying to get warm.

“Thank ya kindly, the water was gettien nippy.” The Scottish man graciously told the team of heat as continued to try and get warm. “Can you tell us why Godzilla caused this much damage?” Nick asked the Scotsman as Elsie gave the man a blanket to stop the shivers, the Scotsman gratefully took the thick piece of cloth. “I dun know laddie, I even let ta fish go but dat beastie was focused on something. Names Hammish by de way seems rude if I didn’t intaduce meself.” The Scotsman introduced himself to the mutant hunters, Hammish’s response confused the team even more so. “Thank you Hammish, would you like us to drop you off somewhere?” Nick asked the man wanting a way to repay the man for the troubles that happened. “Nah, I want te come wit ya. Always wanted ta see te beasties since I saw dem on te news.” Hammish told the team with a wishful smile on the olds Scott’s face, though the team had a few reservations about this but there were almost no docks to drop off the man. So the team went ahead to the lake and as they did they came across a rather odd site, it was the juvenile Nessie was splashing around seemingly happy.

“Ummmm, shouldn’t a big angry momma somewhere.” Craven whimpered out as he began to scan the water for the larger mother’s skin, tail or whirlpool caused by the large creature. Oddly enough besides the adolescence Nessie there didn’t seemed to be any other sign of giant reptiles, which someone quickly took notice of.

“Where are ze creatures?” Monique questioned the group as she began to critically scan the area in case of any traps, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Until the young Nessie began to act odd as it began jump in the water, splash around like a happy child; and soon the little reptile began swim towards a certain area of the loch.

“Woah, what's got Nessie Jr in such a rush?” Randy asked the group as they watched the young monster rushed towards to the east side of the lake, and carefully the Heat team began to follow the young monster. Once the young Nessie stopped the team began to notice an odd site, it was Godzilla hiding among the trees. The younger monster let out something that sounded like a mix between a human chuckle and a sea lion bellow with her head aimed at the larger monster. Soon the massive dinosaur like monster rose up and showed the the passengers on the Heat Seeker a rather odd or amazing sight, the king of mutations leaned down to the young monster and nuzzled it like cat would do with a kitten.

“Did he just?” Elsie turned to look at Nick who looked just as confused as the rest of them. Hearing waves splash against the side of the boat, everyone braced themselves as mother Nessie rose her head out of the water nearby, giving a gentle rumble before spraying both Godzilla and Nessie Jr with a broad blast of water from their maw.

“Are they...playing?” Craven asked in disbelief as Nessie swam over to nuzzle her child and Godzilla, the larger Kaiju letting out an answering rumble, making a weird sort of tune that echoed across the water.

“It seems like they are.” Nick answered just as surprised, Randy already pulling out a hand camera to get the sight before them as Nessie, Nessie Jr and Godzilla all seemed to talk to each other and were more relaxed than any of them had seen, outside of being asleep. “When do think this happened?” Nick said, seeming to put the question to all of them,

“I don’t think this is a recent thing. I mean they were okay with each other when they met the first time” Craven mused aloud. As they thought they hadn’t noticed the boat drifting on the current closer to Nessie Jr. As they were all talking amongst themselves the young kaiju took notice of them and made their way over, poking their head over the edge to listen.

“Mutation distance at maximum.” Nigel beeped out as he began to drive away from the young creature and to the otherside of the boat, as well as into the loch.

“AAahhhh.” The robot screeched as it sank to the bottom. Hearing the scream the entire crew turned to see Nessie Jr watching them and a few of them yelled in panic. The sudden noise made the mutant jerk back and make a small, upset sounding noise, Godzilla and Mama Nessie’s heads immediately swung around to look at them.

“Ooooh crap” Craven hissed,Nick quickly put his hands out and put himself in between the HEAT crew and the kaiju,

“It’s okay. You’re okay” he said softly, Nessie Jr cocking their head to the side, as if trying to understand and was curious about Nick. Godzilla nudged the young monster to the scientist as if to tell her it’s true, but that moment was ruined when an angry voice called out over the sound of an approaching outboard motor.

“Oi, ya bloody gits leave those two alone!!” All heads turned to the voice to see a small metal dingy carrying a barrel-chested, middle aged man with shocking red hair and beard streaked with grey, dressed in a heavy, black trench coat, and a kilt.

“Bless me bagpipes! That’s Bearnard Allanach, wot is e doing ere!?!” Hammish exclaimed in shock as Bernard’s boat pulled up alongside them. Nessie Jr looked confused and slid back into the water, moving behind Bearnard’s boat. Nick moved to the edge of the Heatseaker and looked down,

“Um, hello there. Can we help y-?” he asked before the man cut him off,

“Yes you bloody can!” Bearnard barked, “Ye can leave Nessie and Nelly alone fer one. And fer two ye can get the hell off the loch” Nessie Jr gave a soft sound and nudged Bearnard’s shoulder, making the man pause his tirade, turning to pet her nose, “You doin’ alright wee Nelly? I didne mean to scare ya, ye know that righ?” he cooed and Nessie Jr gave a happy, chirping noise. Nick watched on amazed, even more so that momma Nessie was seemingly talking with Godzilla to calm the larger kaiju.

“Wait. They like you?” Nick said and Bearnard shot him a glare,

“A’ course they do. The Allanach Clan have looked after the Ladies of the Loch fer generations, e’er since we settled here” he said bluntly, still stroking Nessie Jr’s nose. Nick smiled,

“If that’s the case can we invite you on board? I think we have a bit in common” Bearnard looked a bit wary but Nessie Jr gave him a nudge,

“A’right. Toss a ladder and I’ll be right wid ya” In a few short moments Nick and Randy tossed down the rope ladder for the rather cross Scotsman, and soon enough he was on board the Heatseeker.

“Alright, I’m here now get off the Loch.” Bernard demanded and Nick held up his hands defensively,

“Hang on a second Mr Allanch. If I could direct your attention that way” he said as he pointed over to where Nessie and Godzilla were ‘talking’ to each other, Nessie Jr swimming over to the two larger kaiju to nuzzle at them both.

“Wot’s the big lizard with Ness and Nell?” he asked and Nick smiled,

“That’s Godzilla. From America. And I think he sees me how Nessie and Nessie Jr-”

“Nelly” Bearnard huffed and Nick nodded,

“Right, Nelly” he amended, “how they see you” he explained and Bearnard raised a brow,

“So, Godzillah there listens to ya?” he asked.

“It depends if Junior is in a mood or not.” Elsie joked but was shot a glare from Nick to act like an adult for this moment.

“Yes he does, he sees me as an adoptive father.” Nick seriously informed the scotsman who looked unconvinced but seeming to understand,

“From what I hear yer Godzilla’s been a menace” he huffed, “Maybe cause ya still treat ‘im like a wild animal”

“How else are ve supposed to treat him?” Monique asked Bernard,

“How about like family?” he said, moving over to the edge of the Heatseeker and his demeanour seemed to flip, “Nelly~! Come here ya wee troglodyte~! Uncle wants a cuddle~!” Nessie Jr’s head shot up and, getting an affirmative from Mama Nessie, sped through the water towards the boat. Stopping short she bowed her head down to nuzzle at the scot, making a sound akin to a happy purr, Bearnard cooing all the time. The Heat team and Hammish just looked in shock at what just happened, the mutation just allowed a human to pet it like it was an animal at a petting zoo. Meanwhile Bernard just gave the team a cocky smile as he continued to pet the young monster. “Y’see. This is what happens when ya act like family” he looked over to Nick, “Care to try it with your beastie?” he asked, motioning to the dingy.

Nick seemed hesitant at first but he then walked toward the dingy and boated to the two monsters, the two looked down at the lone scientist especially Godzilla. Soon he outstretched a hand,

“Hey Junior. It’s me” he said softly, kinda feeling a bit awkward and unsure. Soon the giant lizard mutation leaned down to the scientist and closed his eyes, and Nick began to pet him like a dog. The scientist just let out a small chuckle as this happened. “That’s it son.” Nick said softly, Godzilla making a soft, rumbling noise, seeming to enjoy the attention, “is this all you wanted? A little bit of love?” he asked and Godzilla gave a louder rumble, as if in affirmation.

Back on the boat, Randy had the camera out. Elise, Monique and Hammish were looking stunned, Craven was thinking about what this all meant and Bearnard was just smiling, still with a hand on Nelly’s neck.

“See what I mean. A little bit a’ trust ‘nd affection can do wonders” Bearnard said proudly. Soon enough Nick came back to the boat, an expression of true wonder on his face and Bearnard moved over to clap him on the shoulder, “C’mon lad, let’s get back to mine fer some tea and a chinwag” he said and Nick nodded,

“Lead the way” he said. Bearnard jumping back into his dingy and leading them to a rather large four story house with a dock on the south end of the Loch by the river. All of them piling out over the dock and up into the home that felt like it had been lived in and fixed up over generations. “C’mon, let’s get comfy” Bearnard said, leading them into a sitting room filled with soft couches, chairs and low coffee tables, “Settle yerselves, I’ll make tea” he said before leaving them all to talk.

“ I gotta say jefe what you did took some guts.” Randy complimented as he began to make himself comfortable on one of the couches, taking up most of the space as he laid on it.

“How did you know he wouldn’t kill you?” Monique asked as she leaned against the wall, looking at the area to see if they needed an escape route. Soon though Bearnard came back with a large silver platter with refreshments ranging from simple tea to ale, with a few sandwiches as well.

“Aight laddies and lassies, how long ave ye known the black beasty?” Bearnard asked the Heat Team as he sat down in a rather large ornate chair with what seemed to be fangs on top of the it , his eyes hard and unmoving as he judged the group.

“Well, since Godzilla was a baby. I found him in the sewers just after he hatched” Nick said, grabbing a cup of tea, “He seemed to have bonded to me, like a baby chick to its mother” Bearnard smiled

“It’s more than that laddie” he said, picking up a glass of ale, “You showed that today. That there beastie has picked ya ta be their spokesman, so ta speak” he said and the entire crew looked at Nick then at Bearnard,

“What do you mean? Godzilla bonded with Nick because he was the first living creature he saw out of the egg” Elise said and Bearnard shook his head,

“They’re smarter than ya give them credit fer lass” he said, “All these big beasties could be smarter then all’a us. They feel like we do, as you could see with Nessie, Nelly and your Godzilla” he said with a smile, “And as I said, me family’s been lookin’ after the Ladies of the Loch fer generations. They know who are good folk and who ain’t” he added proudly, though there was still an air of confusion in the room.

“Wait so Jefe is going to start signing the Big G for contract deals?” Randy asked as he picked up a sandwich from the tray, of course the more adult members just rolled their eyes at the terrible joke.

“ Tha's not wha' 'm gettin' at ya numpty. I mean yer the one they go ta fer talkin' ta people!” Brandon exclaimed to the young the young hacker a glare which caused him to slightly falter under the gaze of the scotsman.

“Wha’ I mean is ‘aht the beasties ‘re protectors and they need someone ta speak to and fer ‘em.” Bernard further explained as he took a sip from his cup to soothe his throat from all this group of tourists were giving him. Nick currently had his hand stroking his chin in thought, but soon a thought came into his mind.

“Bernard if us and our respective monsters have this type of bond who else does?” Nick asked the Scotsman who quickly tried to answer but no answers came out and began to think about what the mutant scientist just said. As he did all around the world odd occurrences, an earthquake in the desert, a volcanic island began to smoke, all over Australia sandstorms were blowing across the continent, just off the coast of Africa the ocean began to froth and bubble, lastly inside a secret lab a new life and a new sport was born.

#godzilla #zilla jr #nessie #nessie jr #nelly #godzilla 1998

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electronicdelusionstarlight · 6 years

Text

Idea for a horror story

Woman gets job as a caretaker/house sitter of obviously haunted house.

She has to take the job despite all the signs screaming at her that this is a obviously haunted house (grim history of dead people, crazed old woman screaming at her to run away from the garden, creepy owners of the house bailing on her the second she takes the job, set of weird rules to follow unless she wants to fall victim of the local haunted house demons, whole place is miles away from town, a town that has already unofficially dubbed the place "the killing mansion" or "the howling cottage" or some shit) because of her personal history, as she's running away from someone that has been abusing her in the past (husband, father, boyfriend, you name it) and is still trying to find her in order to "punish her" from ratting him out to the authorities (whom did nothing to save or protect her) or just for running away from him, and any job, especially one as well paid as this one, will have to do.

Anyway, she gets alone in the creepy obviously haunted house, and starts living her life there, not always fulfilling the rules she had been asked to follow, and interacting with the outside world as little as possible both due to her trauma and because internet deliveries are a thing.

Since she has been slipping up on the rules, however, demonic shit starts happening. Loud howling in the middle of the night waking her up right as she's about to fall asleep, claw marks on the walls and sofas start appearing, pools of slobber and bite marks start forming around her favorite clothes, flower pots start falling off from tables, delivery people get a instinctual fear of getting near the house and start avoiding it like the plague, dead birds are brought to her room's door, the usual shit.

So, since she's actually a smart cookie, she decides, rather than do something rash, to start following the rules of the haunted house, and the demonic happenings starts subsiding. In fact, after not even a month, she one night finds her previously damaged clothes miraculously repaired, and a cooked chicken on a plate rather than a dead bird in front of her room's door, with tray and plate and all.

She's starting to acclimate to her new life, and even starts to get to town more, there she meets, I don't know, Caroline the local vet at a self defense class she's starting to take, they connect over some shared interests and they start seeing each other, at some point she even invites her to her house for coffee, cue some shenanigans about homegirl having to deal with the jealous demons trying to fuck up her date with her, demons who after some coaxing do see that this now get girl is alright and they male her understand in their own way they guess they will share her with her, things are starting to look good...

Then One night she hears a loud crash from the living room, and at first she wonders what it is now since she's been following the rules to the letter, and she thought they were starting to like Caroline, but then she goes downstairs and finds her abuser there and she's scared because how did he find her and she tries to run away but he grabs her and strikes her and she tries to remember her lessons but the fear is making things worse and she cries out for help, and the abuser mocks her because they are miles away from anyone and who would ever try to help someone like her as he starts squeezing the life out of her as he chokes her to death-

Which is when the 2 demons living in the house show themselves. One barrels right against the guy, getting him off of her, crashing on the floor and he doesn't even have the time to scream as black maws of sea water and iron fangs sinking into the man's exposed neck and tearing flesh apart as he screams as the other goes to check on her, coughing and disoriented and still afraid as tongues of light and warmth start cleaning her face, healing her injuries and calming her, as she takes the scene.

Her abuser is gone, swallowed by the first demon, a massive, humongous wolf, somehow made of water and iron, its form wobbling and unstable, as if it could turn any minute into the wave of maws he had become before, and yet now sitting a few centimeters away from her, looking almost sheepish to her, as the other demon, a small, floating coal ablaze in a bright with flame, vaguely resembling the form of a miniature tiger, "looks" apprehensively at her.

She should be scared, she knows that, those beings are the stuff of nightmares, and she should be scared of them and run away in fear.

And yet... they had saved her from her own personal monster, and after all those months of living together, she has begun to tolerate, perhaps even like their presence in the house, so she starts crying, which at first makes the 2 demons panic, only for her to reassure them between sniffles that there was nothing wrong with her, now, and that she really really thanks them for what they did to her, as the two demons grow near and she envelops them into a hug, still on the floor, sobbing.

#horror #short story #oc #i am guessing i should tag it as oc?#eh #ghost story

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meetthetank · 6 years

Text

Bestiam

So yesterday was the 1 year anniversary of one of my personal favorite fic’s I’ve written. It’s been a hell of a year in this fandom and the time I’ve spent and friend’s I’ve made here mean a lot to me. Thanks to all you nerds and I hope the next year is just as amazing!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11907945/chapters/26905050

Rating: Explicit (the first chapter is only M though) Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationship: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B, 9s, Original Machine Additional Tags: Suspense, Hallucinations, little bit of eldritch nonsense, bloodborne references, Biting, they do the fuck, Power Struggle

Chapter 1: Insight

"And that's the long and short of it." Operator 6O says in an uncharacteristically somber tone, "The troops deployed in the sewers and both recovery teams have disappeared. You two are the last chance for them...if they're still alive."

"Understood," 2B responds, before she closes the communication channel.

"I did a little asking around the Resistance Camp and Pascal's," 9S says while flipping through a couple holo-screens. "Apparently there have been reports of a rogue machine in the depths. Think it could have something to do with the missing androids?"

"Even if it doesn't, it means we'll have to be on our guard. More than usual."

9S nods in agreement. A vague feeling of uncertainty starts to worm its way through his gut, though the soldier part of him tries to force it down. Not only have the complex network of tunnels and pipes left by humanity not been properly mapped out, but there could be an untold number of unrecorded machine life forms lurking within. There were too many variables for 9S to feel comfortable with this operation.

However, his programmed curiosity is at odds with his discomfort. There are so many opportunities to learn and discover down in the uncharted sewers. New machines to study, a whole new maze to explore. It's both exciting and terrifying to him.

2B doesn't seem bothered by the unknowns that 9S is running through his mind. To her, this is just another job that will probably end with dead Yorha troops. That and she's very much the "figure it out as you go" type. Maybe that's why they made such a good pair.

She casts a quick glance over at 9S, who's busy making sure they have enough supplies for the mission. Typically she's the unofficial leader, but this is his specialty. They're diving into enemy territory, a scanner's main job. She's only some extra muscle.

"Okay, I think that's everything," 9S announces and disperses his screens. "Ready?"

She gives him a curt nod, "Are you?"

"Am I allowed to say I'm a little nervous?" A sly smile creeps across his face, "Or is that prohibited."

"It is." 2B can't help but smile back at him. Just a small upward quirk of the lips, but he catches it all the same.

"Oh? So you can/ smile!" 9S teases.

She scoffs and turns away from him, "Watch the chatter, 9S."

He throws his hands up, "Alright alright. Let's get going then."

"Lead the way."

The pair had no trouble finding the entrance to the depths with 9S tracing the Yorha signals. In retrospect, it wouldn't have been hard to find without tracing anything, seeing as it's nothing but a massive hole in the earth decorated with machine and android corpses. Whether nailed to the stone or impaled on crude rebar pikes, it was an unceremonious end to machine and android alike. They frame the mouth of the cavern in a way that reminds 9S of the teeth of some great beast. It almost seems...alive. The way some of the fresher bodies drip with various fluids only adds to his analogy.

"Well..." 9S says, swallowing hard, "Whatever lives here definitely doesn't want visitors."

He commands Pod 153 to scan the android corpses for the Yorha signals they're searching for. Unfortunately, the bodies are those of long dead Resistance members and Yorha troops. He records their data and location for the recovery teams regardless.

"It'd be too easy if our missing androids were right out here." He says to himself. "Just our luck, huh 2B."

He prepares for her to chide him, but gets nothing in response. When he looks over his shoulder in confusion, he sees her staring intently off to the side. She holds Virtuous Contract in her iron grip but isn't in her typical battle stance. 9S follows her gaze to see a lone machine dragging the corpse of a larger machine towards them.

"AAH!" The little machine shrieks, once it takes notice of them "NO! LEAVE! BAD PLACE! BAD!"

It hobbles over, abandoning its haul and waving its thin arms at them, "STUPID ANDROIDS!! DON'T YOU SEE THE WARNINGS I MADE?!"

"Huh?" 9S lowers his own sword, "You did all this?"

"YES! FIND BODIES TO SCARE AWAY! BROKEN MACHINE LIVES THERE. TAKES EYES. VERY BAD!"

"What do you mean it...takes eyes?" 2B asks the shouting machine.

"TAKES EYES, STUPID ANDROID! LIVES IN SEWERS AND TAKES EYES!"

Though cryptic, the machine's words do strike a bit of fear in 9S. He hadn't heard of a machine that only collects certain parts of androids and machines. Sure there was the singing machine in the amusement park they had seen, but that one took the whole corpse. Why in the world would a machine want only eyes?

The way the small biped in front of them is screaming and babbling at him and 2B means that it's at least heard of whatever's in there before. Though it doesn't seem too keen on sharing information other than "it's dangerous."

9S puts a hand on 2B's shoulder and tugs her in the direction of the cave, "Come on, 2B. This guy's clearly missing a few screws. We can handle whatever's in there."

"Right." She responds and sheaths her sword.

"STUPID ANDROIDS ARE GOING TO DIE!" The machine screams at them as the pair enter the dripping maw of the cave entrance.

Past the grim warnings out front, for all 9S could see, it was a completely natural cave. No signs of blasting or boring from any source, machine or otherwise. A small stream leads from deeper within out to the entrance, and moisture drops from barely formed stalactites. The air even in the entryway is humid and thick to the point where both androids begin to sweat lightly.

The Pods illuminate the cave with their admittedly primitive lighting feature, but it's welcome nonetheless. Going deep underground cuts them off from the satellite maps, and sonar can only get them so far. They'll have to rely on 9S' navigational abilities to keep on their path. It's easier said than done, however. The natural cave system alone is complex, let alone the man made and unnatural structures they'd be encountering down here.

About five miles down they find their first body, crushed under a pile of rubble. Only their upper body was still intact, the rest was flattened beyond any repair. Their fingers were partially buried in the earth in a panicked attempt to free themselves. Part of the ground underneath them was darker than the rest, where they had bled to death most likely.

"Yeesh..." 9S mutters to himself, "What a terrible way to go. Trapped alone just waiting to die..."

He forces that line of thought away with a shudder before his nerves get the better of him. "I'm going to hack into them and see if they have any information left on our targets, or whatever's living down here." He says with a hint of trepidation.

"Alright, I'll cover you," 2B states, taking a defensive position behind him.

9S sits cross legged in front of the corpse. It's a bit unnerving to him, having the lifeless optics stare back at him, but a quick look back at 2B helps him regain his composure. If only a little.

"Okay, hacking in."

With no systems online, accessing the dead android's data is pathetically easy. However, this android, an older Resistance member judging by their ID code, had been dead for quite a while now. There are huge gaps in their memory data from time alone, and more from the damage they've taken. The stark white of their hacking space crumbles away into the darkness around him. 9S scours through the fading memory space as fast as he can, looking for the dead unit's last memory. Or something close to it at least.

He finds the partially corrupted memory of an empty stretch of a sewer. The location data was for an area roughly 3 and a half miles below where they are now, and the time stamp only an hour or so before their death. 9S accessed the static riddled memory before he thought too hard about what he might find.

"STOP! G-GET AWAY FROM ME!!"

The android's voice echoes against the concrete tunnel. 9S can feel their heart thundering in their chest and synthetic adrenaline coursing through their veins. With quaking hands, they aim their assault rifle at...

Nothing?

The sewer is empty aside from them. The memory shows no other being, no android, machine, not even animals. Yet they're horrified at the sight of something in here.

"NO! It-...it's not you!! It can't be!! Stay the hell back!!"

They open fire into the darkness. The recoil from their firearm combined with their already shaking body throws the bullets wildly off course. 9S winces from how loud the gunshots are, even in a corrupt memory. The bullets harmlessly embed themselves in the concrete, spraying chunks of the stuff as they land. The flash of gunfire illuminates the sewer, but just like before, there's nothing there. 9S closes out the memory as the dead android flees from their imaginary pursuer.

"Find anything?" 2B asks as 9S stands up.

"Not really. Found a memory of them screaming and shooting at nothing but that's it." He responds, dusting off his shorts.

"An invisible enemy?"

"Possibly. I don't like it either way." He mutters, rubbing his chin in thought. "We should stick together and stay on guard."

She nods, "Pod, alert us if you detect movement besides ourselves."

"Affirmative,"

9S instructs his Pod to do the same. If they were dealing with something that had camouflage abilities then they'd have to take every precaution they could. He sticks close to 2B as they descend further into the caves, and to his surprise, she actually follows his lead. He can't help but smile a little bit. She trusts him, at least enough to get them from point A to point B.

A half mile down, they come to a dead end path with a hole blown in the floor. Pod 153 shines its light down to reveal a smooth concrete tunnel with a steady stream of what appears to be water running through it. 9S covers his face when a putrid smell hits him full force.

"Ugh,...I think we found the sewers." He says through his hands.

He's about to ask 2B if she's doing alright, but she's already jumping down the hole by the time he's done talking.

"Hey, 2B! Slow down!" He shouts.

"...Area secure." She says back to him, and motions for him to follow her.

9S mutters something about reckless combat models before jumping after her. The moment he touches down, he becomes painfully aware that this liquid is not water. It's some kind of viscous, off color sludge that sticks to his boots. Between that, the smell, and the air that grows thicker the more they linger, he almost gags.

"Come on," he says, "The trail leads just a little further down."

The sewers made both androids wish for the caves again. The air alone felt like a physical object resisting them, not to mention the liquid of dubious origin they had to trudge through at points. Not counting those factors, 9S felt...uncomfortable. Like there was something crawling under his skin. Occasionally he finds himself scratching at his arms or the back of his neck before he realizes that he's just imagining it. ...Or is he? Shadows seem to shift right in front of his eyes, he trips over debris he could have sworn wasn't there a second ago, and sometimes he thinks he hears an odd sound he can't quite place the source of.

In the middle of one of his scratching fits, he looks back at 2B. She's not doing much better than he is. Her breaths are labored, and she can barely hold her sword up. He can see her trying, and failing, to keep her normal posture.

"Hey, do you need to take a break? We've been going for a few hours now." He asks.

2B shakes her head. Of course she does. "No. No point in prolonging our mission here."

Well, he has to agree with her there. "Yeah, I guess. I don't want to be down here any longer than we have to. This place doesn't feel right."

She's about to respond to him when something catches her eye. Without a word, 2B strides past 9S to another dead android. This one was lying face down in the sludge, naked and mostly decomposed. 2B reaches down to flip them over, and 9S nearly leaps backward at the sight.

They're empty.

A huge hole exists where their abdomen used to be, completely cleaned out of any internal systems, fluids...all of it. They're just a husk.

"God..." is all 9S can say. He's seen a lot of gruesome things in his life, but nothing as...eerie as this. What kind of creature leaves shells of their victims like this?!

"9S...look at their skull." 2B barely whispers.

"....Their eyes. They're gone."

It's not just that. Upon closer inspection, 9S finds that all of their optic systems are gone. Unceremoniously ripped from their head to boot, if the frayed and torn wires are clue enough. As if to add insult to injury, 9S finds multiple other holes bored into the skull for seemingly no other purpose than to see what was inside.

"It looks like...whatever did this started rummaging around in their head after taking the eyes. All their systems are just...scrambled around. I can't make sense of what anything is supposed to be anymore." He muses while examining the dead android.

"I guess hacking into them is out of the question," 2B mutters, gripping the pommel of her sword a bit tighter.

"Yeah. I can't hack into systems that just...aren't there anymore. No memory, no data storage. It's all either irreparably damaged or missing entirely."

She hums a quiet response, then suddenly taps his shoulder. "9S, do you hear that?"

"What?"

He almost misses it. It's a faint, but bone chilling sound. The more he listens to it, the more fear seizes his heart for reasons he can't quite explain. 2B seems to be having the same feeling as well, the way she stares dead ahead though there's nothing but sludge.

It's almost like...a song?

As quick as he places it, it disappears, leaving the androids with an eerie silence.

"...Let's keep going." 9S says, making 2B jump a little at the sudden noise. "The trail ends not too far from here."

The further down the pipe they go, the thicker the air becomes. Simply breathing becomes a taxing chore for both androids, as if there's a crushing pressure on their chests. They're sweating profusely, which only serves to weigh them down further with their clothes clinging to their bodies. A dense fog begins to form, obscuring their vision and rendering the lights from the Pods all but useless.

There are multiple points where 9S puts his foot down and forces 2B to stop and catch her breath. Despite protesting, she complies without hesitation. Both of them start to cough up contaminants that accumulate in her lungs every so often in the form of a sickly beige gel. 9S dreads the hours of maintenance the two of them will have to undergo to clean out their systems of garbage.

They've lost track of time, but after what feels like hours they come to the end of the signal trail. And the end of the sewer system.

"Whoa..." 9S breathes, taking in the sight before him.

All the sewers converge on this one point, dumping their contents into an impossibly huge cesspool. Clouds of steam and gaseous chemicals rise from a lake of fetid liquids, filtering what little sunlight could be seen from the cracked ceiling miles above them. Dead goliaths rise out of the bog like grim spires amongst countless other machine, android, and animal corpses. Refuse, millennia old fluids and festering bodies all intermingle in this defiled pit at the bottom of the world.

Even 2B, impulsive and borderline reckless 2B, hesitates at the edge of the pipe.

"Alert: Target IDs nearby. Proposal, use dynamic scanner program." Pod 153 announces.

9S takes as deep a breath as he can, "Well...let's get this over with." He takes hold of his Pod's claws, "Stay within sight of each other. There could be anything hiding in there."

They jump into the cesspool together, and for a brief moment, 2B clutches 9S' hand before they drift apart from each other. She lands on a somewhat stable sheet of corrugated steel, while 9S lands right in the muck. Sludge splashes against his thighs and settles a little above his knees. The fact that it's warm nearly makes him vomit. The fact that he's standing knee-deep in the dead, does.

He feels 2B's hand on his shoulder while he's in the middle of a coughing fit. If he were more coherent he might have been bashful about it. For now, all he can muster is a quiet "thank you."

"Guh...how are you holding yourself together like this?" He grumbles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"...Barely. I'm trying not to think about it too much." 2B mutters after a harsh swallow.

Once 9S recovers as much as he can, the two begin searching through the mire for the missing androids. They're never out of sight of each other, and both are constantly throwing glances over their shoulder to make sure nothing drags them away.

2B tries not to let the sight of the thousands of eyeless bodies unnerve her, but even she hasn't seen anything as horrifying as this before. She's a combat veteran, one who's suffered through years of war, done terrible things to the ones she cares about. Yet this scene fills her with a dread that tears through the pits of her stomach. A deep breath calms her shaking body and briefly strengthens her resolve to continue the search.

"Alert: Abnormal movement detected." Pod 042's voice echoes through the pit.

Her head whips to the side just in time to see a set of long tendrils disappear into the muck a good distance away from her. "9S...did you see that?"

"Yeah, I did." He calls back, "Guh, tentacles...Why did it have to be tentacles?"

2B draws her sword and wades towards where she saw the creature disappear. Every movement, even the bursting of a bubble in the muck, earns a response from her. Despite her efforts, the fear of this unknown monster is getting the better of her. They didn't even know how big it was, let alone what it could be capable of.

She begins to hear things; faint whispers in the putrid fog. Though she can't decipher words, she's drawn to them. Something in the back of her head itches as she approaches the last place she saw the fading ripples of the creature. The world warps around her, not in the static she associates with malfunctioning systems, but in waves and shifting planes that threaten to topple her.

There's...someone singing. Who are they? Why are they down here?

"Hey, 2B!"

Her head snaps up at the sound of 9S' voice. Somehow, he made it further in front of her, standing near an open pipe at the edge of the pit. "Over here! I've found another signal trail!"

"Alright. On my way." She calls back to him.

Though it does little in the way of alleviating the dizziness, she shakes her head. Perhaps it's just reflex at this point. The itching in the back of her head grows more troubling to the point where scratching at it is a primary focus. But looking at 9S...somehow, she has no idea how, it calms the urge.

She has to get out of this god forsaken place soon.

2B follows the sound of his voice and descends further into the bowels of the sewers.

"2B. I found a few of our missing signals, but-"

9S' head whips around, searching for 2B.

"Huh? 2B? Where did-...2B?"

He catches a glimpse of her white hair disappearing down a tunnel at the far side of the pit, nearly half a mile away.

"Wh- hey!!" He fights against the thick sludge trying to run to her. "2B!!"

"Where the hell does she think she's going?!"

2B kicks her boots against the tunnel walls, splattering them with what little sludge will come free from her legs. 9S urges her to hurry up from around a bend in the pipe, and she can't help but note the odd role reversal. Usually, it's her pushing him forward when he just wants a break. There's a twist in her stomach, but she refuses to give it a second thought as she catches up with 9S.

He's always three steps ahead of her, it seems. Every time she rounds a corner to meet him, he'll be down further in the pipe chiding her for being too slow. Every time she thinks she's caught up to him, he's moved impossibly far impossibly fast. She can't even stop to examine the...things she's spotting on the walls. Not between 9S' constant goading and her own desire to get the fuck out of here.

Something inside her head feels...wrong. Pod 042 isn't warning her about potential logic virus corruption, or malfunctioning systems. In fact, Pod 042 hasn't been saying much of anything since she left the pit. The only thing she can really hear besides 9S calling out to her is this quiet ringing. It makes her stomach churn when she focuses on it.

"2B! Come on it's just down-...GAH!!"

Her heart drops when she sees 9S' legs fly out from under him and his body fall down a gap in the tunnel floor. She doesn't even shout his name, she only allows herself a sharp intake of breath before charging after him and jumping down the hole without hesitation.

She neglects to grab onto Pod 042's claws to slow her fall, she didn't think she had to at first. From the top, it only seemed like a ten-foot drop, but she falls for what seems like an impossibly long time. The world stretches out around her, the features of the cave walls grow blurry. The itching in the back of her head grows in intensity until it's she has to fight the urge to rip out her hair while falling. She hears a droning noise that's similar to her Pod's voice over the rushing of wind, but can't understand what it's trying to tell her. Her vision grows dark with abyssal static, her body forcing itself into preservation mode the moment before she hits the ground.

.....

....

"...be!!"

"2B wake-...."

"2B please wake up!!"

She doesn't undergo the preservation mode rebooting process like she expects. Instead, she awakens to 9S straddling her hips and shaking her shoulders. The moment she opens her eyes, he pulls her into a tight hug and buries his face into her shoulder.

"Oh, 2B! You're okay!" He sobs.

She idly rubs his back, despite the confusion. "I'm alright."

9S has been touchy before, but this is pushing it even for him. Not that she's complaining about it. It feels...nice.

This...something's not right...

Once his sobs quiet, he reciprocates her touches with his own. His fingers ghost around the open back of her shirt, tracing the outlines of her synthetic muscles.

No, this feels wrong. Something's very wrong.

2B doesn't move, she sits there with 9S in her lap taking in the bizarrely intoxicating feeling of his fingers grazing her skin. She lets out a quiet sigh and leans into his touch. She never realized just how...warm he is

This isn't right, you need to move. Now.

"Mm....2B." He moans in her ear. His breath against her sensitive flesh causes a shiver to run down her spine. The hand that isn't on her back starts to creep up her leg, inching its way past her skirt.

"9S what-..."

No. No this isn't right.

The hand on her leg mirrors the one on her back, tracing the muscles in her thighs. She doesn't want to move, but she pulls herself back from his embrace. It's only now that she notices his visor is missing. With this clear view of his half lidded eyes, she can see the dark lust contained within them.

This is wrong. He doesn't...he's not like this...

9S shifts himself in her lap, and she feels his erection press against her leg. Her breath catches in her throat as a slurry of conflicting emotions threatens to overload her systems.

Something's wrong! He's not like this! You need to get out of here!

When she makes no move to touch him, he takes the initiative and starts rubbing himself through his shorts. He breathes a lewd moan into her ear as he grinds against his hand and her lap. She grits her teeth together, fighting back any reaction that threatens to break her resolve. His free hand runs up and down her shoulders, neck, and face. His finger hooks underneath her visor and pulls it off of her face, letting it sit around her neck.

This is wrong!!

2B can't move to stop him once he begins undressing, nor can she find the proper words to protest. She sits rigid and stiff as he moans her name while stroking himself. Her eyes roam up and down his lithe body, admiring the subtle muscles in his chest and legs. A dull ache works its way through her whole lower body. She wants to touch him, to hold him, but the battle within herself keeps her locked in place.

Wrong!!

His tongue hangs lewdly out of the side of his mouth, breath irregular, and hips rocking back and forth.

"2B...fuck me...please.."

She knows it's wrong. She knows full well the risks and repercussions of giving into...whatever is happening right now.

Wrong!!

But fuck it.

WRONG!!

She wants this.

/STOP!!/

She always has.

"Report: Black Box signal for unit 2B located. Marking on map."

9S didn't take the time to clean the gunk off of his legs. "...How could she get that far in such a short time?!"

His mind reels at the increasingly terrifying possibilities that his mind conjures. According to Pod 153, she had made it another half mile down before stopping where she is now, which means that either she started chasing something, or was grabbed. In the past she at least lets him know when she's about to charge after something. It's not like her to up and abandon him. So that leaves the latter.

...He has to hurry.

There's a point where the concrete pipes end, and a hastily carved out tunnel begins. The earth is scarred with irregular fractures, scorched stone, and bizarre claw marks. Something had bored its way through the bedrock itself to make its home here, and at this point, 9S wasn't sure if it was machine, animal, or some unholy hybrid of both. The streaks of blood and oil, or what he assumed to be blood and oil, pushed his already rising pulse rate further into dangerous territory. He was alone, save for his Pod, in an uncharted labyrinth that houses an unidentifiable creature that does horrible things to its victims.

If it wasn't 2B, he would have turned tail and ran long ago.

The faint echo of a wet, thick, scraping noise makes him stop dead in his tracks. He had not once encountered anything alive down here, but what he finds makes him wish it had stayed that way. A lone machine props its legless body up with one thin arm, and frantically scrapes and claws at a pool of mud and android parts with the other. Sparks fly out of where it's lower body would be, and out of the empty sockets that once held its eyes. Wires jut out from several holes bored into its head, which also occasionally give off sparks.

"Has someone...anyone...seen my eyes...?" It groans, "I'm afraid I've dropped them in a puddle..."

There's nothing resembling eyes in the pile of gore and mud the machine is searching through, though 9S doesn't look at for very long. He grants the suffering machine a quick end with Cruel Oath, before pressing onwards.

Don't think about it don't think about it. Just focus on finding 2B and don't think about it.

He tries his best to ignore the growing number of eyeless machines, and empty androids as he progresses. He tries his best to swallow the bile rising in his throat as he passes their bodies arranged in bizarre symbols. He shields his eyes from the symbols carved into the tunnel walls that make his teeth itch when he looks at them.

He can't help but stare in horror when Pod locates the rest of the missing androids.

"Alert: Missing Yorha rescue teams found. Marking location for body recovery."

They were here all right, what was left of them. Stripped of skin, skulls empty shells, and bodies strung up to a wall over a crude altar. Each one was manipulated in the same pose; one arm straight in the air, the other held out to the side. They surround a large carving of a rough star with a rudimentary depiction of an eye in the middle.

As he stares transfixed by this macabre display, 9S begins to hear the singing he thought he heard before. It's closer, louder this time; like it's being broadcast directly into his head. A distorted female voice sings a wordless lullaby that drags his heart to the ground. His shoulders slump, knees weaken, and breathing slows as he fights the urge to curl up in the mud and fall asleep. The song grows louder as 9S' body weakens.

It's melodic.

It's dissonant.

It makes him feel warm.

It fills him with unknowable dread.

It's beautiful.

It's horrific.

It should not exist.

The volume grows to the point where it causes 9S actual pain. He claws at his head, trying to make the pain stop somehow. Pod 153 drones a message that sounds like harsh static to him.

9S feels something crawl up the back of his neck and prod at the lowest point of his skull. It's only when he feels the skin give way, and the object slips underneath that he snaps out of his trance. Cruel Oath materializes in his hand when he whirls around to face his attacked, slicing through the mechanical tendril that had been probing his neck.

The monster towers above 9S, it's hundreds of glowing yellow eyes all focused on him. Its face is that of a normal machine life form, round and featureless aside from the eyes. Its body is where it deviates from its brethren. A mane of writhing tendrils sprout from the open back of its head and curl around a primitive rib cage made of jagged strips of metal. A thin, disturbingly flexible spine flows as its head twist and turns in hypnotic rhythms. It's disproportionately long arms reach out to him, cupping his face with thin claws. It gurgles unintelligible phrases while countless yellow eyes bore into 9S' mind.

It's tendrils begin to uncoil from around its rib cage to creep up his face. They prodded his skin, slick with a cold sweat, looking for a weak point to break through. There's a figure being held in its open chest by a few tentacles. The skin of their face bulges where tendrils writhe just below the surface. Stormy blue eyes partially obscured by white hair stare back at him, begging for help as a tendril forces its way into the tear duct. Their black skirt-

"2B!!"

9S snaps out of his fearful trance and wildly slashes at the machine's face. A few tentacles are severed as it leaps backward, screeching an unholy sound in pain and fury. It abandons 2B's body on the floor in a heap as it puts more space between itself and 9S.

He grabs 2B by her arms and drags her further away from the machine creature, propping her up against the tunnel walls. "Come on come on...wake up 2B.."

"Nine-...9S?" She groans, regaining her senses after whatever it was that monster did to her. "What...where are-"

"Okay, good." He interrupts with a sigh of relief. "Stay here."

9S stares down the machine monster, sword in hand and Pod at his side. His heart is thundering in his chest, and the roar of blood in his ears drowns out the shrieking monster and the horrible song it creates. The combat high sets in, replacing his fear with exhilaration.

So this is what 2B feels like when she fights.

The creature lunges forward with several claw swipes. Most of them miss as 9S dodges backward, but two slash through his coat and another grazes his face. He counters with a few well-placed swings of his own, severing components in its arms as well as several tendrils. It grabs for 9S' head, but he skids through its legs and slashes at its feet. Sparks fly as the machine tries to right itself and 9S takes the opening to attack the back of its head directly.

He unleashes a hacking barrage, but the moment he breaks through the initial defenses a horrid distorted wail rips through his systems. The sound rips through his body like a physical object as he holds back cries of terror.

"̧͙͍̳͎W̷̻̮͕̩E̡̳̼̣ ̹̦͓A͙͔̺Ṛ̺͜E̢̦̜̪͉͙̦̗ ̬̭͈̮B͕̥͙͜O̱̞͖̬̭͔̲R̯̪͈͝-͏͖.͖̪̯̖͝.̻̻.̨̼ͅ ̢̟̟͖̼͕̻ͅ ̶̺̜͈̞͙̬ ͍ ̳̲̹̩̦̣͝ ̲̻̟̺̠̫ ̖͢ ̵͉̝ ̢͙͚̝ ̻̻̩ ̬̩̙͞ ̳͎͚̰̥ͅ ̠̟̮̻̬ ͔̻͔͎̤̤͓͘ ͎͙̺͇ ҉̗̲̠͕̳̣ ̸ ͍͔̪͝ͅ ̝͖̻.̩̣̕.͚͖̳̱̫̘.̯̼̗̼͚̫͉-͉̗͕͉̗͓͠A̦͎͓̣̟D͉͉̯̠̮E͍̻͕̭̯͎ ͚̮͠M͓͝E҉N̨̙͙͚ ̥͕ͅB̴̹̙̱̻͖Y̝̘̭͘-̙̯̼͡ͅ..̜̰͖͚.͏̖̳͍̭̣̼ ͏̩͓̘͕ ̤̥̘ͅ ̟̭͉̫̮ ͙͈͍͙ ̝̫̩̱̬͎ ̣̼̩̜͜ ̶̰̟̤͕̘̩ ̤̭̭̙ ̼̮̻͓͉ ͖͍͓̖̲͔̥ ̙̲̝̼͡ ͚̤͕͔ ̜̟͉̺̰ ̡͈̗ ͢ ͉̟̹͍̭̱͓͘.̜.͘.-̝̥̮̼̹̬͖O͍̲͇̰N͈̤͍͙E̛ ͎̱͎͙̮̗͈B̨͉̦̙͍Y̤͇̼̟̠ ̡̬T͖̳̥͈ͅH̘̼̭E̻͔̠̙͡ ̛̯͚B̮̪͍̲͙͠L̹

̰̲̥̪͚ͩ̂̾̈́̚ ҉̠̬͍͚͇̜̩.̲̥̬̔̇̒͒.͎͉̣̺͕̱̻ͣ͑.̷͕̣̮̄̐ͭͪͯ̃͗.̛͑̌̽O͈͙̳̜̎̓̍̊͢Ụ̧͚͓̠̩̦̅̍̊̋R͐͠ ̴͓̠̳͑̾ͭ̌̽̌E̼̳͓͔͎͞Y̭̲͠-̵͈̝͔̼̈́̄͌.̡͓̺̙ͣͤ́͂̆.̴̄͗ͤ̑͑̈.̨ͧ͂̃ͩͬ.̢̊͂-̞̗̒ͨ͑̀ͩ̚̚Ỏ̬̟̹͉͉̲͔̑̓̆̒͠P͕E̸̞N̗͇̱̣͗

̸̵͑̋̀̍ͬ̎͐̒ͣ͆̕ ̽̎̇ͭ͊̑̾̏ͧ̒ͨ̃ͣͧ̎ͤͥ̃̑͢҉ ̶ͭͩ̉ͪͨ̂̋̎͢͜F̶̛ͣ̄ͯ̾ͥ̕E̵̵̸̛̽ͮ͐͐ͦ́̊Aͪͦ̈͊͆͒̐ͭͥ͊̍̔͂ͮ͋̃̎̕͟͟͠Ŗ̂ͯ̍ͥ̈́ͣͫ͢ ̸̶̛ͦͯͩͮ͌ͭ̑̿̅ͪ͒̿̚T̡̛̛͐ͧ̊͗ͩ͑͆ͦ̒͑͊̿ͧͪ̃̑̊ͣ̓͞H̨̛̆̐ͤͫͭͥ̓̓͌̒ͦ̏ͩ̈͠E̷͑̑͒ͮ͛͋ͬ̚ ͐́ͬͦ́̋ͥͧͭ̈́̊̿̂͋̄ͦ͢͡Ơ̵̶̛̆̃̔̍͋̂̀L̶̨͐͗̾̍ͫͥͨ͟D̷̨̛̿ͣ̈͑̂͌ͨ̆̋̽͛͒ͨ̿̓ͯ̈́͟-̶͛̏͊ͯͭͨ͌̏̓̉̅͑̔̊.͌͊͑̆̑̍ͧ̔͏̴̵̡.͋ͤ̆͌͟.̸̛ͨͫͣ͋̿̿ͤͭ̓̔̏ͣ̏ͫ̓̓̇͂͜.̿ͪ͆̐́͘̕͘͜-̴̊̑̎͆ͯ̓̾͢͠Dͯ̍ͣ̎͛͗̕͢͡͏.̸̢̛̀̾̉̈́́ͯͨ̅̇̃ͭ̾ͫ͑̌̅"̴͗ͭ͗̓̽̎͋͗̉ͥ̎ͭ̽/̸̵̡̄ͫ̎͂͂̈́ͤͧ̃̎ͦ̾͠

It's mane of tentacles shoot out and snag 9S' ankles while he's stunned, yanking his feet out from under him. His head cracks against the stone, and before he can react the creature is slamming his body against the tunnel walls like a rag doll. It throws him to the ground and pins it's clawed foot against his chest as tendrils wrap around his neck. 9S' finger scrape and grab at the mess of wires and machinery, but it's a futile endeavor as he feels his throat begin to collapse on itself. Each second its grip tightens, constricting the life out of his body-

A flash of white tears through the tendrils crushing his neck and another cleaves the machine's spine in two. The creature lets out a series of guttural shrieks before collapsing to the ground beside 9S. 2B stands above him, breathing heavily with sword in hand.

With the help of Pod 153, 9S tears the still writhing tendrils from around his throat, all while gasping for air.

"Th-thanks for the assist..." he sputters, throwing the last of the tentacles as far as he can.

2B gives him a curt nod but refuses to look at him. He notices just how red her face is, the rigidness of her stance, and the thin coat of sweat that covers her skin.

"...You okay?" She helps him up, but won't make physical contact longer than necessary. Once he's on his feet she backs a few feet away from him.

"Yeah, nothing too serious I think." 9S sniffles a bit and wipes the blood dripping from his nose with the back of his hand. "I've had worse... probably. What about you? What did that thing do to you?"

2B's hands curl into fists, "...I think it altered my sensory processors. Made me...hear things, see things, that weren't there."

"Alert: Unit 2B was seized by an unknown enemy and place in an uncontrolled state." Pod 042 announces, "Proposal: Return to the Resistance Camp to perform a full data overhaul and repairs immediately. There is a high probability of corruption by enemy logic virus."

9S fights the burning curiosity raging through his head. What was this machine lifeform? Why did it desecrate its victims like it did? What was the purpose of the altar? What did it make 2B see and how did it do that?

Why was 2B avoiding his touch and refusing to look at him?

He shook his head. This was neither the time nor the place to be thinking about any of that.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

UNIT DATA OBTAINED: WILLEM

#nier automata #2b #9s #2b9s #fanfic #Tanks fics

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