#the pearly iris of the witches | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shepherd-of-the-stars · 5 years ago

Text

Artificial

My submission for @hetabang ! Hope you like it!

Word count: 3,590

Summary: Novovol, Russia, the 36th century. The people of this new age have formed two distinct societies: those of the upper world, high in the sky in pearly cities, and those of the lower world, living on junkyard scraps and breathing polluted air. These societies, both run on fear and power, were meant to forever stay separate. But one night, an android fell from the sky and broke through the barrier that divided them. An android who has no memory, not even his own name, programmed to be a companion, but also a guard. His weapons system had been upgraded illegally, and without proper maintenance, could prove to be dangerous and unstable. Ivan, one of the best mechanics of the lower world, fixes him up and gives him a name; Alfred. Together, they go on an adventure, discovering things about their world, themselves, and their feelings.

Chapter summary: Ivan ventures into the junkyard to dig through the heaps for useful treasures, his almost nightly activity. One wild decision changes the course of his life.

Warnings: brief mentions of death and bodies, hints at abuse(through scars)

Rating: T (to be changed)

Chapter 1: Hell’s Wasteland

The cold night air did wonders in smothering the noxious scents that blanketed the junkyard like a fog. While the sun’s heat cooked them and made them more powerful, nighttime forced them into hiding. The stench of death and rusted metal was enough to make a normal person retch, but Ivan frequented the location often enough that it was nothing but a minor nuisance.

With his scarf pulled up to cover his nose and goggles to protect his eyes from the chemicals and dust, he weaved through the heaps of filth, looking for treasures hidden amongst the trash. His mechanical pack mule followed behind him dutifully with its heavy, steel feet making square indents in the hard dirt. The droid was bulky and large, similar to the size of its namesake, but its well oiled parts allowed it to move silently. The only noise that came from it was when the luggage it carried clashed into each other inside the bins on its back.

This machine, that Ivan had built from scraps and named Buster, carried his maker's oddments so that Ivan could dig through the heaps freely. Every couple feet, the man stopped to poke through the collection of garbage and junk to pick out pieces that he could use for his work. There was a time when he'd jump at every eerie thing he found, but after years of coming here, those things only made his heart skip just a little.

Spotting a human-like leg sticking out from a pile, Ivan scanned it with his device and waited. "Artificial, 20% damage," it said, allowing Ivan to release his breath and drag the limb out so he could toss it into his bins. He had learned the hard way that it was better to be safe than to drag out a corpse.

It was one of the reasons the place was nicknamed "Hell's Wasteland." Broken androids tossed out here made it look like the place was littered with human bodies. The gangs saw that as an opportunity and began to dispose of their enemies here, hence the smell of decay. No one but vultures like Ivan went through here. No one would ever see. And even if someone did, the law would never listen to someone who only had 2 sets of clothes and ate crumbs for meals.

What was once a scrap yard had now turned into a dumping ground. After the owners had disappeared, no one was left to take over. Local rumors said that the owners were still on the land, buried under rotten food and broken refrigerators. “If you listen closely, you can hear them crying,” they would say, “they’re waiting for someone to rescue them. But once you get close enough, they’ll snatch your body and use it as their own.”

But Ivan knew better than to listen to wild stories of ghosts and possession. He knew after many visits that it was the cries of cats. When they yowled in the night, it sounded like a child who had lost their guardian, or perhaps someone who was in pain. And since they ran away at the slightest sound, it was no surprise many people have never seen the source of the sound.

Just then, that exact sound that people dreaded hearing pierced through the air and struck Ivan’s heart with chilling fear. He knew it was only a cat, but even the bravest of men would flinch at a shrill noise breaking silence. Head tilted towards the night sky, he listened, waiting for the sound to meet him again.

When it came, he followed it with the stealth of an assassin. Even the slightest disturbance could send them running, and Ivan didn’t want to miss his chance of seeing a cute cat.

With every step, he drew closer, which meant the cat had not discovered him yet. Maybe this time he would be able to catch it and bring it home. Then again, his budget could barely support his sisters and himself. To add another mouth to feed, that would leave them eating out of the dumpster. But one could dream. A small part of him hoped that the soft clanging of metal in Buster’s bins scared the cat away so he wouldn’t have false hope.

But things never seemed to turn out his way. As he peeked out from behind an overturned car, he spotted the cat that had been yowling for attention and finally understood why it had not run.

What he saw was an unfortunate black cat stuck in a discarded raccoon trap, its paw reaching out past the bars in an attempt to open the spring doors. Ivan approached it slowly, his large body hunched over in an attempt to make himself smaller for the cat. The mental image of himself looking like a crooked, old witch approaching their animal apprentice crossed his mind and made him smile.

“Don’t scratch me, please,” he whispered after tugging down his scarf, “I’m just trying to help you.”

Back arched and hairs standing straight, the cat was not happy at all that such a big creature was so close while it was defenseless. It hissed and swatted at Ivan’s hands when he got too close, but eventually, the human proved to be trustworthy.

He didn’t make any sudden movements, and for that, the small creature was thankful. Slowly, it relaxed, pressing itself against the corner of the cage instead of trying to shred Ivan’s helping hand.

“You’re very beautiful. I will call you Novi. Do you like that?” He smiled down at the black cat that stared at him with wide, wary eyes. The cage jolted and clicked when it was finally opened and the cat took off with such speed, he could see bits of the ground scatter as her claws tore it up.

Ivan let out a soft grunt of disappointment watching her disappear behind a pile of garbage bags. “What? No ‘thank you’? That’s a little bit rude.” He chuckled at his own silliness before walking back over to his droid. “Did you get that, Buster?”

Those keywords made the droid open his sealed mouth with a click. Ivan reached between the spiked teeth to grab a cord to connect to his phone while Buster’s eyes flashed red to verify his identity. They turned blue when the iris scan passed the test, his tail wagging as his defense mode was disengaged. Only Ivan, his sisters, and people he approved had access to Buster’s security files. If anyone else had tried it, the jaws would clamp shut with enough force to take their hand clean off their body.

With a few taps, he was able to see what his droid’s eyes had recorded. Crystal clear footage of Ivan interacting with the cat popped up on his screen. The quality was good enough that Ivan could pause and zoom in on it just to get a closer look. He took a screenshot and smiled.

“Send this image to Kat. Caption it, ‘rescued a cat from a raccoon cage. Named it Novi. Can I keep it?’ Message complete.” He continued to scrub through the video as he waited for the droid to do as he said.

The droid went completely still for a few seconds then moved his head in a nodding motion once it was done. He spoke in a human-like voice with a slight mechanical buzz. “Message sent to Kat: Rescued a cat from a raccoon cage. Named it Novi. Can I keep it? Image attached.”

“Good boy.” Ivan pat him on the head twice before disconnecting the cord and tapping his chin, making his steel jaws slam shut. Turning to the left, he began to return to his previous task but Buster stood firm.

“Novi spotted.”

Ivan stopped, turning back to the droid. “What?”

“Novi spotted,” he repeated, looking straight ahead.

He followed the eyes of his droid until he saw what his target was. There, standing on top of an old monitor, was Novi. Her tail swayed in the air playfully, as if waiting for Ivan to notice. “Are you back to thank me?” He asked the question as if he expected an answer.

Novi stared at him, completely still except her tail, then she blinked and hopped off the pile of scraps. Ivan had expected her to run a second time, but she turned back to look at him and waited.

“Buster,” he said, his eyes not leaving the cat.

The droid chimed once.

“Choice: Follow, or don’t follow.”

The droid chimed twice. “Choice: Follow, or don’t follow. I choose follow.”

Ivan hesitated. “Buster, what’s my luck today?”

Two chimes again. “Your luck today is amazing! Who knows what will happen when you take a chance!”

“Take a chance,” he repeated under his breath. Every fiber of his being was screaming to him that this was just like the start of a horror movie, but he took a deep breath and began walking towards the cat. “Maybe she will show me her kittens. Yes. This will be good. I have good luck today.”

Even as he told himself this, his hands were cold and clammy from nervousness. A black cat on a full moon wanted to lead him somewhere. It didn’t seem like a good sign. Any rational person would ignore this stray animal. It could be a trap. Maybe demons. Or maybe Ivan was just being too superstitious.

Several times, he had attempted to turn the other direction, thinking that following a cat was just too silly, but every time Ivan tried, Novi would walk back over to Ivan and stare. Waiting. Whatever it was Novi was trying to show him, it must be important.

“Alright alright, I’m following,” he muttered after a fourth attempt to escape.

They were nearing the center of the junkyard now. The piles here were stacked so high, even Ivan had to crane his neck to catch only a small glimpse of what was at the top.

He tended to avoid this area. Located directly below the highway, it was a popular spot to toss things over the side. If one wasn’t careful, they could be crushed flat by someone tossing out their garbage. It was also very unstable. One misstep could cause the garbage to topple like an avalanche, and if one was alone, once they were buried, that would be the end.

“I don’t think I can follow you further, Novi.” Ivan watched as the cat hopped gracefully on the pile, her light body barely making the objects move. But for Ivan, every step he took made garbage tumble down the sides.

The foolish human had already come this far on his quest, and he didn't want to waste it by turning back. But one wrong step made his foot slip into the pile, a broken beer bottle cutting into his leg. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to make him hiss and stain his torn pants with blood.

Maybe it was a sign that he should stop trying to climb this mountain of garbage. The wound on his leg was small, but if it wasn't treated, it could cause an infection. “I’m sorry but this is the end of our little adventure. My sister will be very angry if I die trying to follow a cat.”

Of course, Novi gave no response. She only stared at him a while longer, looked at the highway above, then took off. At first, Ivan thought that perhaps she had run off because she knew Ivan would no longer follow, but the sound of a car door slamming shut told him otherwise.

“Oh no.” He looked up at the highway, spotting two men approaching the side, working together to carry something heavy. Ivan shouted for them to stop as he scrambled to get to the bottom, but they couldn’t hear him. From the highway to the ground was a drop almost a hundred feet. His pleads would never reach them. And even if they did, they wouldn’t care.

Ivan had only caught a glimpse of what looked like an old sofa being chucked over the edge before the impact of it crashing down into the pile caused everything to topple over. Like a mudslide, everything on the top layer tumbled to the ground, Ivan included.

He did what he could to protect himself as he fell; his limbs cut and bruised as he tried to shield his head. There was nothing he could hold on to. Nothing was stable. It only stopped when everything pooled on the ground, adding to the mountain’s size.

Buster, who had stayed on the ground while Ivan chose to climb, ran over to the spot his maker was buried. He dug him out as fast as he could, then dragged Ivan to the side where he’d be able to avoid the damage of falling garbage.

“Are you okay?” What Buster got wasn’t an answer to his question, but a smack on his metal head. “Ow.”

“You liar. You said I have good luck!” He hissed as he stood up. His clothing was torn in several places and his body was covered in filth.

Buster tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Luck readings are chosen randomly from choices you programmed into my system. If you are not satisfied with your reading, please ask ag-... Ow.” The droid was cut short when his maker smacked him again.

“Maybe if I rebooted you, you won’t be so sassy.”

“My personality is also programmed by you.”

“Stop talking.”

“Silent mode: On.”

Ivan sighed when the droid went silent. He knew it was his own fault for following a cat into such dangerous territory. Now he had to go home and tell his sister that he needed to borrow money to buy a new set of clothes. At least his scarf was okay.

He wrapped the piece of cloth back to how it was when he started his hunt and tended to all the cuts with the first aid kit kept inside his droid. Then, pretending like nothing had happened, he went back to digging through the rubble. If he was going to ask Kat for money, the least he could do was sell a couple more of his projects to earn it back. And to do that, he needed the parts.

The more he looked and the more he collected, he was beginning to believe that perhaps Buster’s reading was correct. While this area was dangerous and risky, it also held the freshest picks. He had collected so much scrap metal and spare parts that the bins grew full.

Dozens of different projects zipped through his mind. He could make a small pet droid. Maybe a drone. Or maybe he could invent something brand new! He could be rich!

A noise from the highway above only added to his excitement. He took a couple steps back from the pile, just to be safe, then watched to see what the people would toss over. “Come on. Give me something good.”

All he could see were dark figures, but the mystery of it made his heart race. It all stopped when he saw the discarded object reveal itself in the moonlight as it fell. “No way…”

Like before, the impact of the tossed object caused the pile to crumble. Anything on the surface was buried once again, but Ivan’s eyes were locked on the new addition.

He waited until the trash had settled and the men above had left before dashing over to where the object was resting. It was buried under bags of garbage and electronic trash, but Ivan had found it. It was broken and damaged, but it was unmistakably an android.

“What a beauty,” he said to himself as he admired the human-like machine. If it wasn’t for the broken skin revealing metal underneath, Ivan would have thought it was a human.

The body was built to be male, a strong one too, and it had a head of long, blond hair with a firm but pretty face. The model wasn’t one Ivan has seen in the catalogs either, so it must be custom built. Which also meant it was an expensive model. The more expensive the model, the more he could sell it for.

“Let’s see… Are you still active?” He waved a hand in front of the android’s lifeless face but gained no reaction. Snapping his fingers to try and wake it by sound did not work either. But when his hand made contact with its silicon skin, its eyes snapped open and locked on Ivan.

Ivan jumped back quickly when blue eyes flashed red. “W-wait!” He snatched up whatever he could to protect himself. Unfortunately, his weapon of choice turned out to be a bent pole. “I’m friendly. I promise.”

The android stared at him for a long time. Ivan could hear the whir of his engine as his system tried to determine whether or not Ivan was a threat. Several times, his eyes had gone dark only to flash back on again seconds later.

“Battery failure,” he whispered as a mental note, “but reaction is good.” That brought a smile to his face. With a couple quick fixes, he could have this android good as new and sell him for thousands. So no matter how long it would take, he waited.

He waited, with an eager smile, until the android relaxed his body, his eyes dimming down to a natural blue. “Identify yourself,” he spoke. His voice box was damaged, making his speech sound like he was speaking through a static tube.

"My name is Ivan. I won't hurt you," he keeps his voice calm and quiet like he had with Novi. Now that the android had calmed, he lowered his weapon and came closer until he was within his arm’s reach.

Ivan had opened his mouth to speak again, but the android’s arm shot forward and grabbed his scarf. He pulled the human down until Ivan was staring into flickering blue eyes. “Who… am I?”

"I don't know. We've only just met. But I can find out." Dig through his memory files, erase them, reboot him, sell.

"Are you ICON?" The android spoke the word as if he didn’t know the meaning.

“ICON?” Ivan paused, his train of thought halting. "I'm Ivan, not ICON. What is ICON?"

He was silent and still for a while, making Ivan believe that it was another system malfunction. But since he had continued to blink, Ivan knew it was just his mind trying desperately to process an answer. "I... don't know. My limbs are damaged. I don't believe I can walk."

"I can take you to my home.” He took a step to the side, gesturing to Buster. “I can fix you. Would you like that?"

"I lack the currency required. At least... I believe I do..." His eyes moved sluggishly from Ivan to the droid, then back again.

"I don’t require currency. Only your permission. Will you allow me to fix you?"

The android grew silent again, then slowly, he nodded. “Okay.”

"I'm going to pick you up now. Is that alright?"

"... I give you permission," he nodded again, "but become a threat and you're dead."

Ivan gave the android a nod in return before he slowly moved the junk off of him. It wasn’t until all of it was cleared that he realized the reason the android couldn’t move.

His left arm and both of the android’s legs were marked with plasma burns. The damage of it melted through the synthetic skin, past the metal plating, and scorched the circuits underneath. The pattern of the injury looked like it was done with a rope, or perhaps a whip, wrapped several times around each damaged limb. Thoughts of fixing and reselling the android quickly began to fade. Not even a machine deserved to be treated like this. The rich were truly inhumane.

“Does it hurt?”

"Of course it hurts," he gave him a puzzled look, "but that doesn't matter."

"It does matter. You shouldn't suffer. Do you want me to power you down? I promise I'll turn you on again when you're safe. It’s so you won't suffer any pain when I move you."

The android frowned, his face scrunched up in distrust. "How can I trust you?"

"I guess you'll just have to. But I won't force you to agree."

The android had no reason to trust Ivan. They had only just met. If Ivan was a dishonest person, he could shut Alfred down, take him apart, and resell every piece for a good price. Both parties knew that. But Buster had predicted that today was Ivan's lucky day, and that prediction showed to be true. The android, who couldn’t even process his own memories, had decided to trust him.

“Fine,” he said, his voice soft. “Turn… turn me off. But I’m trusting you.”

"You're making the right decision. I'll speak to you again soon. I’m turning you off now." He reached forward slowly, praying that the android wouldn’t activate his defenses once again. His fingers felt around the back of his neck until he grazed across a circular dent.

For a second, his fingers rested there as he stared into the android’s eyes. He recognized the fear, the panic and uncertainty, but if Ivan was going to move him without hurting him, he would need to be shut down.

“You can trust me,” Ivan reassured him.

Then slowly, the android’s eyes slipped shut.

#hetabang #rusame #rusame fanfiction #hws russia #hws america #hetabang fanfiction #bringbackhetalia2020 #hws rusame #artificial #scifi au #machine learning about humans trope #two fics in one month after 2 years of silence? yes #youre going to get two more years of silence because im goinf back to work in 2 days #wish me luck please #i dont want to go back to dealing with idiots

30 notes · View notes

theimpossiblescheme · 5 years ago

Text

My Mistoffelees Headcanons:

He still has a very large existing family—his father Cat Morgan, his mother Ozma, his maternal uncle Bustopher Jones, his paternal aunts and uncles Marina, Mamrotka, Ramses, Wiskuscat, and Victor; and his seven younger siblings Mystic, Sloeberry, Brew, Tempest, Druid, Domino, and Drosslmeyer. (@amethyst-labyrinth)

He discovered that he was really a tomcat and not a queen when he was very young, and he went very far out of his way even with his underdeveloped magic to make his body suit how he truly felt. Morgan and Ozma were nothing but supportive.

Skimbleshanks is also a father figure for him, since he helped look after him when Cat Morgan was at sea and taught him everything he knows about dancing. As a way to pay that kindness forward, Misto taught Pouncival to dance.

He spends a lot of time at a London synagogue where his good friend Matzo lives–they like to watch from the rafters. (@tantomiles)

Victoria is his adopted sister—he was the first cat to find her after she was abandoned, and the two remained thick as thieves ever since.

He’s very good friends with Pouncival, Plato and Tumblebrutus, even if he sometimes acts like he’s far too mature for their antics. He might give Plato crap sometimes, but only because he wants him to treat Victoria right—if he doesn’t, he’ll zap his tail off.

The queens in the Tribe treat him as just “one of the girls”, and he honestly loves it. He adores Jemima, Rumpleteazer, Etcetera, Cassandra, and Electra as very dear friends and will even hang out in Jenyanydots and Jellylorum’s sewing circle.

Munkustrap was his closet key–he grew up with a huge crush on him and, even after he got over it, half-jokingly credits him with helping him realize he was gay. He also gets a laugh out of the irony of now courting Munkustrap’s brother.

He tends to crack really terrible jokes when he’s anxious as a way of calming himself. The more jokes he’s making, the more dire the situation is. When he’s extremely stressed out, he’ll go almost completely nonverbal.

He has very sensitive hearing to the point where he can get sensory overload, so he focuses on doing something with his paws to drown it out when it gets bad. Even if all he can do is mess with his head fur or flap them against his sides, it helps him stay grounded.

His owner was a young boy named Anthony, the son of a respected rabbi whose own father owned Bustopher Jones and Ozma. Anthony adored Misto and tried to take him everywhere—even smuggling him into his schoolbag one morning—but when the war broke out, his parents tried to urge him to have Misto put to sleep. Luckily his grandfather stepped in and said that wouldn’t be necessary since there was more than enough room for him with Bustopher farther downtown. Both cat and boy have never been so relieved in their lives.

His human name was Spaghetti… something Tugger never loses an opportunity to tease him about.

He’s Bustopher’s self-appointed seeing eye cat, and it’s a job he takes incredibly seriously. He’s very proud to be the Cat About Town’s nephew, and he helps see to it that he’s treated with due respect and affection.

He has a habit of acting like he’s Above It All at times and makes a point to ingratiate himself with the older, more “respectable” cats, but it’s only because he desperately wants to be taken seriously on his own merits. His mischeivous, kittenish side always wins out, and he’s never too busy for his loved ones.

Sometimes it’s hard, but he’s an eternal optimist who always tries to keep a positive view on the world and see the best in other cats.

His old magician jacket used to be covered in shiny silver and pearly buttons, but it had to be given up as scrap cloth for the war effort… so he made a new one himself with Jenyanydots’s help, covered in the sparkles from his own magic.

He also used to need a wand (which was really a small pencil) to perform his magic, but as he’s gotten more disciplined and confident, he’s abandoned the wand and just uses his bare paws. They can get blistered and burned if he overexerts himself, but he doesn’t mind too much.

He loves human tea and has a small hoard of tea bags.

He also loves human movies–whenever the cinema across town is playing something good, he and Tugger will sneak in and make a date out of it.

Tantomile and Coricopat were his magic mentors. He’s a little intimidated by them, but he still greatly values their help and advice.

He and Gilbert like to play pranks on each other–usually Misto has the upper hand because of his magic, but Gilbert still finds creative ways to get back at him.

Another one of his good friends is Torelai, who has a very different perspective on magic since she was once a human witch. He learned a lot from her way of seeing things, and the two have a very close brother-sister relationship. (@bluetortoist)

He sleeps either sprawled out halfway elegantly, curled up with his tail over his chin, or sitting up in a dark enough corner that only his eyes are visible.

He’s a very talented contortionist and can twist his body into all kinds of positions without any discomfort.

He doesn’t wear his little hat as much anymore, but it functions as his own personal Bag of Holding that’s magically bigger on the inside. Anything anyone could ask for, he can pull it out of there. (@and-magical-cats)

After Morgan and his little siblings went back out to sea for their own safety, Misto was devastated and constantly worried about them. When he heard seven small distress cries during one of his magic lessons, he instinctively reacted with a teleportation spell… only to find that the seven kittens in his hat were not, in fact, his siblings. Still, they had obviously escaped some kind of danger, and they needed him, so he decided to keep them to raise himself. Their names are Cyrano, Anaminta, Nehemia, Aloysius, Mandragora, Chryseis, and Kiscica.

That hat trick made him realize that he could do something similar for couples in the Tribe who couldn’t have their own kittens. All he would need was a tuft of each parent’s fur and some blood for genetic bonding, and he would summon a kitten who looked like them.

Along with his pyrokinetic and telekinetic powers, he’s also a developing medium. He’s been talking to ghosts since he was a kitten–mostly old pirate friends of his father’s–and it’s something he and Jemima have bonded over. Along with their friends and fellow mediums Ephraim and Hélène , hey’ll take field trips out to the Hyde Park cemetery on clearer nights and try to find any ghosts they can talk to there. (@bullseyegames, @amethyst-labyrinth)

Tugger and Mungojerrie are both his mates… and he’s made the joke at his own expense that it wasn’t enough for him to be gay, but he’s exclusively attracted to complete morons. But he still adores them both.

In addition to Misto’s seven hat kittens (whom he is a very attentive “Papa” for), he and Tugger adopt Hestia (@uppastthejelliclemoon), Sekhmet, Ares (@dcjelliclequeen33), Castalia, Moria, Latinus (@thederpyllamaoflove), and Primadonna (@morbidlymary on Instagram). He also took in Hesita’s ghost siblings–Hades, Thetis, Iris, and Apollo–and is one of the few cats who can really see them. (@uppastthejelliclemoon)

He eventually takes over Munkustrap’s position as the master of ceremonies for the Jellicle Ball.

#cats the musical #mistoffelees #my headcanons

12 notes · View notes