#theta core | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

m1d-45 · 3 months ago

Text

look, don't touch

summary: a minor mishap in the lab leads to a chain of.. interesting events with the second harbinger

word count: 4.8k

-> warnings: reader is badly burned + mentioned blood + somewhat graphic description of injury, dottore + his reputation, you think you're going to die at one point (not serious, in passing, you don't)

-> gn reader (you/yours) and non-canonical segments

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

you weren’t an earnest follower in celestia by any means, but if they could get you out of this then you would happily spend the rest of your life devoted to being a pastor.

mostly because that’s the only way you’d live to see the light of day again, but that was besides the point.

on a good day, working for any harbinger came with a lot of challenges, but you had ended up with the most ruthless and least rational. every time you walked into the doctor’s lab, there was a healthy amount of fear that it would be your last. at least one fight was going on at any given point, trying to read their horrendous handwriting gave you a headache, the constant mood swings and volatile behavior just the tip of the iceberg. on top of that, you also had to deal with being dragged into every idea and whim they had; your technical job title was merely ‘assistant,’ but that was far too narrow a band to cover everything you did that wasn’t in the fine print.

like this. standing with your hands shoved deep into the chest of a skywatcher ruin drake, fumbling for a casing supposedly “just a little further,” if beta’s continued pressuring was anything to go by. he was standing somewhere behind you, theta on the other side of the drake trying to figure out how to pry off the thick bolts sticking out of its spine. theta you could understand. he was mostly machine himself, so it made sense he’d be the one to pull apart the touchier components, but beta? beta, fussing with the wings of the drake, doing a whole lot of nothing while you shoved your very human and non-replaceable arms into a tangled mess of gears and wiring. you’d already gotten burned once, a thick droplet of oil falling onto your wrist from above that theta apologized profusely for, and you weren’t eager to do so again.

sure, if your arms did get ripped from their sockets you’re fairly certain you’d receive prosthetics in return, but that didn’t excuse anything. just because they were capable of amazing feats of science didn’t mean you wanted to be another test subject.

“you can do it,” beta ‘encouraged,’ leaning on your shoulder and not at all making it more difficult to strain for the part he wanted. “you saw the plans.”

of course you did, you were the one that had insisted he look them over again before ripping into the machine. behind the chest plate, behind the core, straight to the back was a wide bundle of wires. in the very center was a segmented strip of chained together casings shaped vaguely like dumbbells, supposedly easy enough to pull out. what was inside? who knew. probably beta. you’d found the wiring just fine—not just fine, you’d scraped yourself along far too many gears and raw edges to be entirely intact—but there was nothing inside it. you picked out the thinner wires one by one, and while you’d succeeded in finding the structure they were supposed to be in, it was empty. yanking it up had rewarded you with a bruise on your forearm and nothing in the slot below it, so you fed it back down and prepared to pull.

“please behave yourself, beta.” theta’s voice comes from higher than it was last time, a loud bang from above you reverberating through the entire machine. you try not to think about it.

“i’m supervising-”

“i’m supposed to be supervising,” you interrupt, gripping two bars of the structure and preparing yourself. “i don’t get paid enough for this.”

you breathe, your grip tightens, and you pull with everything you have. above you, something pops, and the frame in your hands is suddenly very slack. you don’t even have a chance to feel for the capsules before something hot and burning poured on your arms, a thick oil that clung to your skin and refused to leave. beta moved quicker than you could think, grabbing your sides and practically carrying you away from the machine. the sludge was forming a wide pool on the floor now, a dark lumpy black that stretched all the way up to your elbows and made you painfully aware of that fact. beta had grabbed a roll of mechanic’s towels and roughly wiped off the excess, the drag of the napkin on raw skin making you hiss. it left a reddish residue behind, though the sight of your hands quickly blurred with tears.

“theta, we’re leaving.” beta puts one hand between your shoulders and quickly pushes you out of the project room, a sliding door opening into the upper lab. you blink out your tears as best you can, mostly relying on beta to guide you past the maze of tables and machinery. this section of the lab didn’t have a medbay since the segments allowed up here never needed one, so it meant you had to walk all the way down to the lower lab for first aid. how fun. you weren’t keen on letting this stuff stay on you for any longer than it had to, but since when was any dottore known for his safety measures?

even in your limited vision, you see more heads turn toward you than usual as the door hisses open. beta don’t stop to pay them any attention, walking you straight through to the door marked with a red cross, hand tightening in your shirt when you stumble on the slight step.

“careful,” he says, like you’d ever be in this situation of your own accord.

the faucet hisses and so do you, gritting your teeth at the pressure on your hands. you blink rapidly, struggling to find the soap before he puts it right in front of you, pressing down the top and letting it fall into your hands. your skin is bubbled and angry, shaking hands and blurred vision making it impossible to figure out where anything was. instead of doing anything remotely helpful, beta just stands at your side like the world’s worst lightpost, providing no insight and only unnerving you further with his presence. the only indication he’s not lost in some manic daydream is occasional mumbling, though that may actually be evidence the more you think about it. you’re not sure how much time passes, just running water over your skin to stave off the pain. eventually, he sighs, “fine, i’ll go,” a nonsensical statement you almost don’t notice wasn’t meant for you before he speaks a little louder.

“i need to go, but i’ll get kappa for you.”

like he wasn’t already there to see you walk in. “sure.”

he lingers, then leaves. you continue washing cold water over your skin to keep the burning at bay, knowing full well its a superficial solution. best case, you’re burned severely and are either fired for incompetence or made to work through it. worst case, whatever chemical that was made its way into your bloodstream through one of the many scrapes you got and you were about to drop dead from a heart attack any moment now. neither option was rather thrilling.

your palm can’t take much more of the water pressure, but the thought of trying to twist the valve off is equally unappealing. pain, or slightly adjacent pain: a typical day in dottore’s lab. you never thought you’d be on the receiving end.

the door doesn’t creak as it’s pushed open, but the sound of boots on the floor gives it away. who you can only assume is kappa turns off the water, blotting up the excess on your arms with a soft towel that still felt too harsh.

“i know, i know…”

you watch through blurred vision—was that the cause of your headache, or was it the stress?—as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small tin. he moves delicately, barely a whisper across your skin as he spreads the salve over your arms. soft gel pads his fingers, a cushion of translucent silicone over everything sharp edge or hard plate. you could barely pick out the seams between the layers of his hand, each of them slipping and melding together in one fluid movement. the salve leaves a cool numbness wherever it touches, your pain swiftly becoming a faint memory. you’re somewhat surprised by how quickly it works, though you probably shouldn’t be. if they could figure out delusions, they could figure out an effective topical pain reliever. he gently twists your arm just enough to see if he’s missed anywhere, not pulling any of the irritated skin. once satisfied, he makes quick work of wrapping it, white bandage spiraling up your arm faster than you can blink. he tapes it shut just below your elbow, and the process begins anew.

there’s not much else to do but watch him work. your tears are finally starting to recede enough that you can see clearer, gauging the damage on your arms. it’s… well, terrible, if you’re being frank, skin peeling and blood smearing into the pale beige salve. you're definitely going to blister, and there’s no way you’ll be able to so much as pick up a pen in this condition. hopefully prime accounts for that when he decides your next shifts, though anything you do is realistically going to hurt. you’re pretty useless like this, even as a proper supervisor you couldn’t exactly take notes. you don’t have an ancient supercomputer in your brain like kappa or theta, and even the most basic of tasks involved your hands. no matter how good kappa’s medicine, there’s no way you’ll be in well enough shape by tomorrow.

“you’re worried,�� kappa says, neither a question or a statement. an explanation, maybe, but to who?

“pardon?”

he ‘looks’ up (you’re fairly certain he only does that for your benefit) though his hands don’t pause, the red diamond on his face plate pulsing faintly. like his hands, the seam between black metal and bluish silicone is so small it might as well not be there. the silence stretches for longer than you know what to do with, long enough that he finishes with your arm, wiping off his hands on the towel from before. “your shirt has holes in it,” he says like it explains anything, ‘looking’ back down to wrap your hand. you’re able to watch this time, the roll weaving around your fingers and hand before being quickly spun along your arm, perfectly taut. he cuts it with his nail and tape dispenses out of his thumb to seal the end. he lingers there for a moment, thumb pressed on your inner elbow, before finally backing away. “you should change. there’s a closet behind you that should contain a spare shirt if you’d like."

you look down, noticing that he’s right. some of the goop splashed onto your shirt, leaving a smattering of holes. the skin beneath was fine, thankfully, but he was right. definitely not lab-safe, though not many of the actual substances you worked with were safe either. you were surely under-qualified to be handling khaenri’ahn machinery.

that’s beside the point. you turn around, finding the cabinet he’s talking about easily. shirts, pants, even a spare set of shoes. they seem to be mostly for the younger segments, but you pick out a shirt your size easily enough. you check behind you, seeing kappa turned away politely, and carefully pull off your shirt. you put it aside, silently thanking whoever decided to leave the shirts unbuttoned in the cabinet. probably kappa. it’s softer than you expect it to be, smooth blue that you’d almost mistake for some sort of fine silk if you didn’t know how resilient it was. every one of the segments wore them, fire, acids, and even beta’s occasional scalpel all deflected as if they were never there. it probably would have survived the corrosive from earlier, really, which makes you a bit bitter. the buttons close easily even with your limited dexterity, leaving neither bumps nor gaps down the front because prime was too good to be caught with a straight shot to his heart. if he was worse at his job it might be easier to be upset, but you couldn’t feel anything but begrudging respect about the man that hid a tie in the cuff to keep the sleeves secure around your elbow.

not for the first time, you wish you were given your own designated set. that would mean acknowledging you as more than an assistant, though, and prime seemed to be allergic to calling you even that. it was always either your name or ‘help’ with such a specific lilt that you couldn’t even describe it, something unique to whatever thoughts bounced between the precious few marbles still left in his head.

you liked to think you were more than just a standard helper. if nothing else, then the fact that you’d been working with him for as long as you had with your sanity intact had to mean something. according to rumors of payroll records from the ninth’s workers, the longest a previous assistant had lasted was barely a week over six months, and you had survived in this lab for more than a few years without getting fired, killed, or worse.

that could always end today, though. ruin drakes were endemic to sumeru and had to be carried across half of teyvat to make it to prime’s door, let alone the time spent finding and disabling them. failing a simple task on the first day was likely a perfectly fine reason to have your head on a pike. never mind that it wasn’t your fault, that it wasn’t your idea, or that you were grossly underqualified to supervise disassembly of khaenri’ahn machinery in the first place. since when was any segment known for his rational thinking and level-headed nature? fun joke.

you pick up your discarded shirt and thumb one of the many holes with a sigh. the edges were coarse and likely would only worsen in the wash, so there goes your uniform. the least of your worries, really.

“prime wants to talk to you,” kappa starts, drawing your attention towards him. his hands are folded neatly in front of him, mechanical voice slow and almost hesitant. you never knew a segment to be unsure of himself before, though you suppose prime is as good a reason as any. “but i can tell him you need rest. i understand today has been stressful for you.”

that was one way to put it. putting off talking with prime and going back to your quarters to avoid the problem for twelve hours sounded ideal, but you weren’t a fool. if prime was asking you to see him immediately after the incident, he had something to say, and denying a harbinger was a surefire route to whatever afterlife awaited you.

“thank you, but i’ll go see him now.”

his shoulders visibly fell, but he nodded. you dropped your shirt in the trash can as you followed him out, again ignoring the various other segments scattered throughout the lab. none stopped whatever they were doing, but you could feel their eyes on you, see their blue hair twist in your periphery. they’ve probably seen injuries far worse, and yours were already covered up… it was probably kappa, really. he rarely left phi’s side for any longer than he had to.

kappa input his access code without looking. or, you could only assume he wasn’t looking; even though his head was turned toward you, it didn’t mean anything. which was worse, that he could act without looking like he was, or that he acted like he needed to look?

his finger hesitates over the enter key. “you’re nervous,” he says again, this time actually feeling like it was directed at you. you never asked about before and probably never will. “he doesn’t seem upset at you.”

you bite your tongue to keep from being mean. you know he means the best—he was literally coded to be an empathetic caretaker—but prime wasn’t known for broadcasting his heart on his bloodstained sleeves. he could seem anything he wanted and it never had to reflect what he was actually feeling.

“thanks,” you reply instead, and he nods, the door sliding upward with a hiss.

the upper lab is empty. all the equipment is still there, of course, glassware and sealed jars littering the countertops, but all of the chairs are pushed in and vacant. nobody besides you walks along the tile, and the hallways beyond this section are empty too. stretches of white floor and steel doors your only company, the fluorescent lights buzzing above you.

it’s unnerving. have you written a will yet?

you turn to the right, towards prime’s office. it looks like all the rest, with a clear plastic bin hanging next to it and a keypad below that. you knock with your entire fist, two bangs that are a little too loud on your end but likely barely audible on his. his doorway is a foot thick, a well-defined border between the harsh lighting of the hall and his deceptively welcoming office.

whoever the fatui hired as interior designer deserved a raise. a nearly black wood bookshelf covers the entire left wall, volumes packed together with remarkable efficiency. on the right, a large map takes up most of the space, notes and string marking plans you don’t try to read. shelves of files and pinned up diagrams surround it in equally dense displays. the floor is a well-buffed dark wood that clicks under his heels as he rounds his desk, silent. the pristine white papers spread across his desk are the brightest thing in the room, interrupted only by the backs of the two chairs in front of his desk. he doesn’t pull one out, nor tell you to sit, only approaching you quietly. you can’t remember the last time someone dressed business casual was intimidating, but there’s a first time for everything. his gloves are a thick mystery fabric that barely a suggest a touch on your arm, blue palms carefully following the bumps and valleys of the bandage. you raise it, letting him inspect kappa’s work wordlessly. he doesn’t comment on the shake to your hand you’re certain he can feel, and in fact doesn’t give much of any indication at all. his face is unreadable behind the mask, a detail you’ve yet to determine as a good thing or not.

“theta analyzed the substance that fell on you.” his voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard before, like he’s uncertain about breaking the silence. he doesn’t let go of your hand. “it was mostly oil, yes, but it also included a mixture of slime condensate and some sort of elemental anchor. his working theory is that when the core collapsed, the slime mixture first spilled into the oil line, then that burst. the anchor dissolved into the oil, releasing its energy, and the slime helped it stick.”

dottore has a reputation well known across the entirety of teyvat and beyond. he was irrational, heretical, setting up seemingly nonsensical lines of dominoes that led up to a crushing wave of death. he did not care, he did not feel, he held no mercy. his office was more mystifying than the abyss, and a non-zero amount of his subjects had chosen the latter rather than stay. within the fatui, within his very lab, this fog did not lift. even theta and his khaenri’ahn brain couldn’t reliably track the thoughts behind prime’s actions. that thought at least made you feel a little better, because there was no way in a thousand years that you could ever rationalize prime explaining himself to you.

“you have experienced, in essence, a severe chemical burn.” finally, he lets go, stepping back and turning away to dig through the files on his desk, the rustling sounding too loud after he spoke so.. did you dare say softly? your skin prickles where he touched and you don’t know what to feel.

he comes back with an inch-thick stack of stapled papers and a pen, holding out both. you don’t dare flip up the blank cover page yet. “you will stay with kappa and phi until you are better, and follow whatever treatment plan he prescribes. you will fill one of these out three times a day: at morning, at noon, and at night. am i understood?”

paperwork? was that all? a lot of it, certainly—was there even enough time in the day to complete three of these stacks?—but far less than you were hoping for, let alone expecting. regardless, you nod, “when would you like me to start disassembling the ruin drake?”

the silence stretches. you can feel his eyes on you and you’re certain the weight isn’t phantom, even despite the mask. you run over your words again, searching for fault and finding none. you’d hoped by presuming you’d be working again you might save some of his anger, but did he not want you to? was that something he expected you to know already? did he not want the drake disassembled at all? the delicate wiring was certainly ruined by the waterfall of whatever anchor he said fell on you, and even if theta had somehow managed to salvage it there was no way it could be up to par.

“what?”

ever a man of few words. his fangs catch the light and you regret talking more with every second that goes by. “i assume you can no longer run any of your tests on it, so-”

“when did i mention the drake?” he shakes his head and crosses his arms with a surprisingly neutral sigh. “i give you explicit instructions to stay with kappa, yet barely a moment later you’re talking like you’re going to do something else. here i thought you showed promise…”

his words hold no bite. his arms, though crossed, are not taut with anger. you liked to think you’d gotten pretty good at being able to read the various segments’ moods, but that meant you’d either severely miscalculated or prime was teasing you, and you couldn’t decide which was worse.

you were lost, and the silence was continuing for uncomfortably long. “i’ll.. go see him right away, then?”

you can’t keep your voice from tilting into a question, having wandered neck-deep into unfamiliar territory, but he blessedly doesn’t comment on it. he waves you away with a stiff nod and you half-bow before turning around, not stopping until you’re safely down the hall and in the main lab with two doors between you. you leaning against the cool wall and stare at the packet in your hands. paperwork in exchange for an indefinite time off proper work sounded more than uncharacteristic to you, especially when a prized machine was damaged in the process. you turn over the pen kept beneath your thumb, seeing the ink inside slosh around within the glass chamber. it was one of his pens, not the standard practically indestructible ones kept around the labs. maybe that was why you were thrown off, he just really lost it this time. was this the calm before the storm?

you don’t stick around to find out.

the upper lab is still empty, an eerie feeling following you as you walk past the lines of tables and equipment. all of the actual chemicals are put away, which is a little reassuring, but it’s still wrong. even if the others are out, at least theta is normally sat at his desk. you walk a little quicker.

kappa is obviously awaiting your arrival, only idly watching phi mesh together gears on the floor—isn’t that a safety hazard for someone so young?—and perking up the moment you walk in. he waves you over to him, sitting on a large couch in phi’s play area. you cross the striped tape and enter the protected space, feeling only slightly like a criminal seeking sanctuary. kappa is sitting with feet propped a small coffee table in front of him, one you set down papers and pen on before joining him.

he notices the different pen. you can tell by the way his glance turns into a stare, ‘eye’ locked onto it with a slightly brighter glow. he sits dead still, transfixed… then his chest rises in another faux breath, his attention shifting to you instead. “see? not too bad.”

“i have to complete three of those a day.”

his head tilts, smile growing. “i’m glad to see he’s finally acting in accordance in his thoughts.”

before you can even begin to dissect whatever that meant, phi calls his attention from the floor. kappa’s eye flashes as he takes his feet from the table, standing.

“forgive me, i have to go. why don’t you get started on your paperwork?”

there it is. you almost forgot he was an identical copy of the guy who made you dig through a ruin machine because ‘it’ll be good work experience.’

you settle the stack of paper on your lap, uncapping the pen and flipping away the cover page to reveal the dense form beneath. your name, easy enough, then the date below that. next was the… approximate time of injury? why had he given you an incident report? he probably slipped it in on top of the other stuff for filing purposes, though you don’t know why when he would have gotten all of that information from theta. maybe he wanted to see if you’d lie? you may have willingly signed up to work under him, but you weren’t so stupid as to lie to a harbinger.

you described what you saw as best you could while not having any sort of medical training beyond ‘blood should stay inside the body,’ then treatment from kappa. your hand was already beginning to ache a bit from having to hold the pen, but it was tolerable enough when the page was finished in less than a minute. you let it relax a bit as you flipped the page, skimming the questions. your name, of course, then the date…

you flip the first page back to double-check what you already knew. they were the same. did he think you’d run out of space? it couldn’t be a fluke, surely—was one for kappa? questions fill your head, ones you ultimately decide to shake away. whatever the case, you didn’t need to touch this page, so you moved onto the next.

the next was the same. so was the next. you used your thumb to flip through the entire stack rapidly, confirming that yes, the entire packet are one-page incident reports, what’s going on? prime’s not careless enough to make a mistake like this. maybe beta, trying to one-up his past brilliant idea by sabotaging your work, or perhaps the goop had sprayed up to theta and fried his circuits.

“uh, kappa…”

he looks up from the elaborate string of gears phi has set up, smiling. “are you done? if you are, you should come over here and see what phi’s made.”

the younger boy visibly perks up, red eyes shining. his hands tap against the floor eagerly, “would you? please?”

you pointedly look at the stack, peeling up half of it so kappa can see your dilemma, but he only laughs in response. “come, dear. let’s leave that for later.”

you hesitate, unsure. there’s no reason kappa would have to lie to you. he has a direct line to prime in his head and was probably told to make sure you stayed on task, so… if he doesn’t see a problem with it, then that must mean this is how it’s meant to be, right? carefully, you set down the stack on the coffee table, capping prime’s pen and leaving it on top. prime had, for whatever reason, given you an unexpected out.

so you take it.

#context beta is webtorre kappa is a see-through video game controller theta is fully robotic and phi is like 7 or something #genshin #genshin impact #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore segments #genshin x reader #gender neutral reader #where's cig anon. they were right its been like 6 months or whatever and ive had my arc #do i like him as a person? fuck no. have i spent an embarrassing amount of time fleshing out headcanons for him? yeah.

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niqhtlord01 · 2 months ago

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Humans are weird: The Reckoning Virus

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

War with the Interaxie was an inevitable outcome for humanity and the entire galaxy knew it.

Border disputes, clashing rights over trade, subtle threats between delegates and near constant animosity between the two powers all but assured that they would come to blows. Along the entire shared border between the two powers a sense of dread and waiting could be felt on every world as if they could sense the brewing storm just over the horizon.

Yet humanity could not afford to be the aggressors for a change.

Unlike their previous conflicts the Interaxie had a well-organized military and an industrial power base to support them for decades of sustained combat. They had dozens of worlds to draw upon near limitless manpower reserves meaning any conflict could be drawn out into a bloody stalemate. While the humans were not unfamiliar with this style of warfare it was an outcome they did not wish to see realized.

To prevent this outcome humanity put a plan into motion called “The Reckoning”, which when completed would hand them victory in the war within a few months at best.

While the Interaxie were gathering their strength and hiding their growing fleet strength behind ‘military exercises” a series of shipments were being delivered to the core worlds of the Interaxie. They arrived at trade ports and were moved to waiting warehouses as their paperwork was checked only for the shipments to mysteriously vanish. It wasn’t unheard of for a shipment or two to go missing at such facilities, and though on some of the world’s their disappearance was noticed and investigated for the majority of others they were written off as clerical mistakes. The trade network between worlds was after all vast and overwhelmed by bureaucratic red tape so it was not unheard of for a shipment to be mishandled.

Such trivialities were soon overshadowed as the eventual war broke out and trade quickly shut down between the two powers. What had been mild border conflicts broke out into ruthless fleet sized engagements that turned entire systems into orbital graveyards of ships overnight. Human Hammerhead dreadnoughts were taking on entire swarms of Interaxie drone swarms in space while the Terran Marine Corps were barely holding their own against Interaxie armored divisions on the planets of Theta, Primus, and Dollore.

The fighting was intense and just as predicted the Interaxie began to call upon their vast manpower reserves early in an attempt to simply overrun human opposition and claim a swift victory. Legions began mustering on their core worlds waiting for transport to the front when the war took a turn for the worse for the would-be alien conquerors.

Without warning several viral outbreaks began to be reported from the Interaxie core worlds. Infected individuals began showing heightened states of aggression and delirium with the worst cases quickly devolving to bouts of madness and rage. What made it worse was when local officials quarantined an area in hopes of isolating the infected a new series of outbreaks would happen somewhere else entirely leaving containment out of the question.

It did not take long for civil unrest to break out as the virus spread into major populated areas and shortly after states of emergency to be declared. Factories ground to a halt as the workers fled the infection to protect themselves and their loved ones, farms and fields left unattended as their caretakers no lay lost to the grips of the disease leaving shelves unfilled and empty. Fights broke out for what supplies remained and though provisions could have been supplied from off world spaceports were soon overrun by those wishing to flee. When the infected reached a critical state of the virus’s development they began lashing out at anyone and everyone within arms reach resulting in the near total collapse of order on worlds as waves of infected ran through the streets

The legions that had been mustering to be sent the front soon found themselves being redeployed for containment or worse, becoming largely infected themselves and losing all combat effectiveness. Interaxie warriors were forced to put down many of their comrades who had succumbed to the virus leaving them horrified by their actions. It was worse for those deployed as part of containment teams who gunned down thousands of infected civilians on the quarantined worlds, many of which were related to the warriors by blood.

Within a month a dozen worlds had been locked under quarantine with another handful now desperately holding on as infection rates continued to rise, all the while the war with the humans continued. The sudden loss of manpower and war material was certainly noticed on the front and the humans shifted tactics. Every engagement they forced the Interaxie into using whatever reserves they had left as much as possible. Soon it was not uncommon for three Interaxie soldiers to be rationing one power cell for their rifles while their fleets lay in high anchor above their worlds due to lack of fuel to move them out of system.

Unable to meet the current demands of the war and handle the outbreaks spreading through their core worlds, the Interaxie soon sued for peace. The humans were not sympathetic with the Interaxie plight and their demands were steep.

1. Three border systems would be transferred over to human control.

2. A DMZ would be established from the newly taken territory and the remaining Interaxie domain which no ship from either side would cross.

3. The Interaxie would be forced to repay a war debt to humanity in the sum of three trillion credits over the course of the next twenty solar years.

4. Human monitoring stations would be placed inside Interaxie space to prevent future acts of aggression.

Had it been at any other time the Interaxie would have rather fought on until the bitter end than accept such harsh terms, but with the virus continuing to cripple their military and economy they were left with no choice but to relent and agree to the terms.

With that the Interaxie/Human war came to an abrupt end and the Interaxie redeployed their entire military forces to combat the growing viral outbreaks, all the while Terran Special Services watched from afar and grinned.

Several months prior to the war they had been responsible for shipping a number of unremarkable containers through a series of dummy corporations and unaffiliated alien trade networks until they arrived on the Interaxie core worlds. They bore no human markings and their paperwork was all in order leaving nothing for suspicion. Once they had been moved to the warehouses for processing TSS operatives quietly removed the containers and began distributing the contents across the worlds.

Industrial factories, mining complexes, agricultural farms, super markets, water treatment facilities, power plants; any and all critical infrastructure locations were located and seeded with the contents of the containers before the operatives quickly fled off world.

When war finally broke out a signal was remotely sent and each of the packages cracked open releasing their deadly contents. Swarms of tiny mosquitos genetically bred to carry what was known as the Reckoning Virus were soon released and began spreading the virus with every victim they came into contact with.

It was an ecological disaster of unimaginable proportion. Not only did the insects infect the personnel of the facilities they were placed in, but they also began to spread outwards and begin breeding in new areas. Any source of water soon became a deadly petri dish for them as they reproduced at an alarming rate releasing further swarms of insects. On these alien worlds they had no natural predators and what wildlife did attempt to eat them soon became deadly sick with the virus as well leading to rampant overpopulation of the bugs.

The Interaxie were well aware of the seemingly good timing the outbreaks had been for the humans and long suspected their involvement but could not prove anything as the TSS had planned for such eventualities. None of the devices used were of human origin and even if they could track down how they had arrived on world the series of dummy companies and alien trade networks used to ship them there resulted in a labyrinth of legal networks and commissions needed for even the slightest scrap of information that would lead nowhere.

For almost ten years the virus remained effective before the Interaxie were finally able to find a way to not only cure the virus but also eliminate the invasive species of mosquitoes, but by then the damage was already done. Both their military and trade had been crippled by the viral outbreaks and with several of their primary manufacturing worlds now defunct the flow of goods to the remaining worlds was almost a trickle. Extreme measures of rationing were implemented which only led to further discontent and civil unrest which in turn was brutally put down by military forces. What had once been a galactic power now had been reduced to a third rate kingdom barely able to hold a trade agreement out of their domain let alone ever again extend their power through military force.

#humans are weird #humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #virus #war

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schlattsdoll · 1 year ago

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Schlatt from the otk iq test video with school girl reader (praise/corruption kink)🙈

mine. all mine. - jschlatt

fem/afab reader

minors dni

warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, schlatt calls himself daddy, rikki sucks at writing endings

notes: im thinking college au?? innocent!girly!reader x fratboy!schlatt??? inject it into my veins. i felt like a FUCKING GENIUS naming the frat hehe. also this is WAY LONGER than i wanted it to be, i got carried away again

it wasnt his fault you looked so good in your pastels and short skirts, paired excellently with knee high socks. your innocence adding to how badly he had wanted to corrupt you, to ruin you. truthfully, this was meant to be a study date, being paired with jay to do scene from romeo and juliet for an acting class. as you read the lines, your face flushed knowing what came next. sensing your nervousness, schlatt stopped you. "hey, you know we don't have to do this." his hand "unintentionally" on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles. you shook your head, "n-no. we're gonna have too. it's not that i don't want too, y-you're very attractive its just, i uh, i've never done this before."

bingo. something as small as taking your first kiss would be more than enough to satisfy him until he could fully ruin you, make you his.

"i'd be more than willing to help doll." he winked, causing your face to flush again, hiding behind your hands. "don't hide that pretty face from me. i mean it, i won't bite. unless ya ask me too." his hand coming up and holding your chin in his hand. he leans down and kisses you gingerly, a soft moment between you too. as you melt into the kiss, schlatt's hands make their way to your face, holding either side of your cheeks. "wow..." you whispered breathlessly after pulling away, smiling. jay smiled too, "how was that toots?"

"can we do that again?"

you two had practiced the kiss, several more times than needed, each time increasing in force and passion. hands wrapped in each others hair, at one point you wound up in his lap.

thats how you wound up in his bed at the omicron theta kappa (otk) house. your back against his pillows, legs spread and skirt hiked up while he sat between them. his large fingers tracing the wet patch in your pink panties, teasing your soaked core while you wriggled under his touch. "j-johnathan." you whined out breathlessly. "is all this from me kissing you baby? look at you, ever touched yourself before dolly?" you hid your face in your hands ashamed and his smirk grew. "nothing wrong with making yourself feel good baby, lemme make you feel good. can i toots?" he started to pull your underwear down as you nodded your head, words lost in your throat. "use your words doll. i won't do anything unless i hear you say it." you manage to choke out a yes, very weakly. schlatt helps you wiggle out out of the now drenched panties, and smiles down at you. "if it gets too much, let me know."

schlatt takes a headband off his nightstand and pushes his hair back, and tentatively licks your sopping cunt, causing you to bite back a moan. "doll, lemme hear you. wanna hear all the pretty sounds you're gonna make." his mouth returning to your pussy, giving little kitten licks to your clit. normally, he was a complete munch, but he has to hold himself back to not overstimulate you. he brings his hand down to slowly insert a finger into your wet heat. you squirm and a little moan escapes your lips as he smirks once again. "you're so tight baby, gonna have to stretch you out before i can make you mine. that's what you are right, my little dolly?" he leans up to kiss you while he fingers you, tasting yourself on his tongue. he deepens the kiss when he adds a second finger, loving the way you moaned into the kiss. he pulls away to instruct you, "grind your hips down baby. that's it, my good girl."

jay caught how you had reacted to being called that. "oh you liked that didn't you? my good girl, love this tight fuckin pussy. can't wait to taste more of you." his thumb reached up to up to rub your clit, his fingers curling and hitting that sweet spot you've never been able to hit. he felt your walls clench around his fingers and he sped up just a little, "gonna cum for me toots? go on, cum for daddy."

your orgasm hits you like a brick wall, cumming hard around him leaving you breathless. schlatt pulls out his fingers and licks them clean, "so fucking yummy. wanna taste you everyday."

you go to sit up and get on your knees, when he looks at you like a confused puppy. "whatcha doin toots?" you look up at him, "a-aren't i supposed to do something for you now?" his cock twitched in his pants at the thought of ruining your pretty makeup and your pretty glossed lips around his cock, but he was eager to have you a moaning mess under him again. "next time baby, right now it's all about making you feel good. lay back f'me." you listened to the bigger man, laying back down, legs spread again. "such a good girl, listening to me. bet if i asked you to you'd play with that puffy clit again." schlatt pulled down his gray sweatpants and boxers in one fell swoop, so ready to stretch and mold you to his dick. your eyes widened at the sight of him, it was bigger than anything you've seen before in videos. you audibly gasped, stroking his ego. "don't worry doll, i'll be gentle with you. don't wanna break you. not yet at least."

he stroked himself, getting his knees onto the bed and lining himself up with your entrance. he barely put his tip in before you were moaning and writhing under him. slowly, he went in inch by inch, letting out a few guttural grunts and moans himself. "fuckin hell, s'fuckin tight baby. his hand went down to rub your clit gently, and you relaxed a little, letting him slip inside you more. once you gave him the all clear to move, his hips slid back and forward, pulling out just enough to have you whining before sliding back in.

"so good f'me doll. such a good girl, best fuckin pussy i've ever had nd its all mine isnt it? say it. say who you belong to."

you whine at his words, managing a pathetic whine of "you, oh fuck." he smirks and knows what he wants out of you, "say my name baby. fucking say it."

"johnathan!" you borderline screamed as you felt your second orgasm of the night coming on. "that's it, my good girl, cum for me." he felt himself getting close, balls tightening. "fuck, 'm gonna cum." he pulled out and stroked himself until he finished on your thigh with a groan.

running to the bathroom, he grabs a clean washcloth to clean off his sperm and clean off himself. then, he lays down behind you, holding you by the waist close to him. "i wasn't kidding when i said i wanted to make you mine doll. i really do, so whaddya sa? will you be mine?"

"'m yours jay."

as always, my inbox is open!! send in requests 💚

#chuckle sandwich imagine #jschlatt smut #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt headcanons #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt hcs #mcyt x reader #college au #fratboy! jschlatt #rikki’s sinful weekend シ

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taralen · 7 months ago

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Wowee, five days late, but here is my April Fool's Day picture! What's the joke here? Well, that's the joke! There isn't one at all except for one foolish woman's endeavors.

This is a drawing of my Addison lady, Thetalan (aka Theta), loosely based on the Fool Card of a tarot deck.

During the 1990s, Theta was a naive White Addison lady who fell deeply in love with Spamton G. Spamton, the BIG SHOT himself! Years before he burst into stardom, the two had a chance encounter in 1993 when Spamton was still building his wealth. While Theta was working at a sports arena on her first day, Spamton approached her stand to buy beer for him and his friend. However, he noticed her lack of training and, as a small gesture of kindness, showed her how to properly pour a beer from the tap before handing her a generous $20 tip. This encounter embedded into her very SOUL; Theta never forgot him, and her adoration for him grew into unconditional love in the years that followed.

Like the fabled sun in their world without one, she gazed upon his visage in awe and often said, "Someday, I want to be just like him and shine brightly above the city lights!"

Despite her best efforts, he rose higher and higher while she remained nothing more than a regular Addison. However, this did not stop her from believing that someday they would surely talk again!

Thoughts of love swirled in her mind, inspiring her to write him many poems, but she never had the courage to mail them. Then, one day in 1997, Spamton announced the opening of a dedicated PO box to send him fan letters with the possibility of reading his favorite ones on TV. This was her chance to finally get him to acknowledge her love for all to witness!

She rushed to her desk and poured all her devotion onto the paper, confessing every thought and feeling she had since their initial encounter. With a heart-shaped seal, she sent the love letter off, praying that he would find hers, remember that small moment they shared, and let all of CYBER WORLD and the neighboring Dark Worlds know how much he meant to her.

Every episode of the SPAMTON LOVE NETWORK sent her heart pounding. Surely there would come the day he'd find hers in all those piles of fan letters? She never gave up hope and believed he would read hers one day!

However, by 1998, Spamton's sales and net worth declined. The SPAMTON LOVE NETWORK was canceled in 1999 when a mysterious health condition robbed him from going on stage again. Crestfallen, Theta sobbed, knowing she'd never hear her "prince" announce her words of love. She prayed from the core of her SOUL, hoping he read her letter despite everything and kept it close to his heart.

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specsthespectraldragon · 5 months ago

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the last thing you see before you are vivisected and rearranged

Tech Priestess Biologis

She wants to dissect and rearrange you.

#old art I changed her robe colors to give core theta different ones

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fatuismooches · 10 months ago

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I've been thinking about how Genshin merchandise for Dottore and [Name] would be like, and I've come up with two!

The first would be a plush version on Dottore and [Name], their holding each other's cute plush hands and there would be this tag or sign next to them saying "WARNING: THIS IS A SET, DO NOT SEPARATE"

The second would be Foxtorre and sparrow! [Name], and the segments would be cute little fuzz balls with tiny beaks and a big glowing red eye, all abit unique to differentiate between eachother. Omega would have his usual ruin guard core eye thing instead of a big red eye, theta (that's webttore right??) would have messy fur that's got blood splattered here and there. Zandy would be noticeably the smallest and would have the softest fur compared to all of the segments, and I'd like to think he can fit under/is attached under one of sparrow![Name]'s wing.

This out of context but i live for sharktorre 🙏, I'd like to think that [Name] crochet their own sharktorre and foxtorre plushies and they just sit on their bed for them to cuddle, the segments are definitely abit (very) jealous because why would you need to cuddle some plushies when they're right there?? They're 100% more comfortable just ask, they'll drop whatever they're doing for you ❤️

AHHHH AGREE WITH EVERYTHING IN THIS ASK...!! Oh gosh, Pantalone would definitely be the one behind the whole thing. Why? Because you best believe his pockets are being FILLED with the merchandise of you and Dottore. After all, let's not forget about the totally not obsessive fan club... sold out in a day. (And you didn't even ask for a cut when he asked your opinion/permission on it! You just wanted a free copy of each plushie! [Note: He asked you and not Dottore. Let's just say the Harbinger was not happy that random people were buying merch of him and his beloved. He totally doesn't have one inside his desk to squish when he's bored.])

You were the one who proposed that the plush versions of you two should not be separated. In fact, that was how Pantalone marketed the whole thing... let's just say it worked very well. (Definitely starts to consult you more).

I can just imagine the real Foxttore's reaction when suddenly you have a non-moving version of it... are you trying to replace it? It's so much better than that inferior thing! Probably bites it a few times and when it doesn't react it, glares at it before cuddling up to you. You're very amused. Yeah, plushie Foxttore is cute and all, but you got the real-life thing here! It obviously gets all the attention. Also, the plushie of raven Dottore would be a lot bigger than sparrow [Name]... you could definitely tuck the two closely to each other!! And the fuzz balls of the segments,, they definitely get made into keychains too hehe (you've attached them to your bag).

I live for Sharkttore as well, I mean, look at those teeth. Reader definitely makes their own plushies so Zandy wouldn't be lonely and night and so you wouldn't be either. I can imagine, if you like leaving your plushies on your bed, how much the segments and Dottore have to fight to fit on your bed comfortably... (you get mad if they try to toss them to the side).

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #imagine being a fatui agent and casually comparing ur merch of your favorite harbinger with ur friend #CUTE CUTE CUTEEEE SDBEWDE #eating them cutely!!#reader def has a hanging net to put all their plushies when they have to fix their bed!! (they have a lot of the segments and etc hehe)

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apod · 11 months ago

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2024 January 5

Trapezium: At the Heart of Orion Image Credit & Copyright: Fred Zimmer, Telescope Live

Explanation: Near the center of this sharp cosmic portrait, at the heart of the Orion Nebula, are four hot, massive stars known as the Trapezium. Gathered within a region about 1.5 light-years in radius, they dominate the core of the dense Orion Nebula Star Cluster. Ultraviolet ionizing radiation from the Trapezium stars, mostly from the brightest star Theta-1 Orionis C powers the complex star forming region's entire visible glow. About three million years old, the Orion Nebula Cluster was even more compact in its younger years and a dynamical study indicates that runaway stellar collisions at an earlier age may have formed a black hole with more than 100 times the mass of the Sun. The presence of a black hole within the cluster could explain the observed high velocities of the Trapezium stars. The Orion Nebula's distance of some 1,500 light-years would make it one of the closest known black holes to planet Earth.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap240105.html

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locitapurplepink · 9 months ago

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Taglist : @aintinacage , @trapezequeen , @cassie-fanfics , @zaya-mo , @fulltimecatwitch , @kanerallels , @commander-tech , @thebadbatch2022

#star wars #star wars resistance #station theta black #the core problem #sw resistance #star wars resistance season 1 #sw resistance season 1 #star wars polls #sw resistance round 3 #round 3e

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manylittleguys · 4 months ago

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Hi! We're a plural sideblog from Theta's main account. This blog is meant to be a safe space for us, away from our main account where we are not openly plural. I (Arachne) made this blog for the rest of us just to talk about being plural, ramble a bit about our origins or our interests. Just whatever comes to someone's mind. We are a fictive heavy system.

Collective Intros: + anyone's signoff tag info. if not provided, they likely use their name as a signoff and no tag

Core System: the main body of the system, folks who aren't part of sidesystems

Arachne, Administrator & Collective Archivist. it/she. #The library spider

Theta, Host, MINOR. they/them, OG body-keeper. #thetaposting

Deadpool, Prosecutor, fictive. any, go crazy, have fun with my pronouns. no you do not have permission to call me by my name. #red. should be dead. no redemption

Wolverine, Anger Issues Holder, fictive. he/him (subject to change) no you do not have permission to call me by my name. #yellow clawed man. posts exclusively in orange text

Boo, introject. they/them (will change) #the cabinet maggot. posts exclusively in purple text

Eddie Brock, fictive. he/they ("they" ONLY when referring to Venom and Eddie collectively while using Eddie's name exclusively)

Venom, introject. it/they ("they" ONLY when referring to Eddie and Venom collectively while using Venom's name exclusively)

Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, introject. he&/they& (While being technically separate in headspace, they& are incapable of fronting separately and wish to be referred to as a unit) #The Holmes Siblings Are Speaking And You Will Listen

Mycroft Holmes, fictive. any "masculine" pronouns (no opinion) #The Holmes Siblings Are Speaking And You Will Listen

Eurus Holmes, introject. any pronouns (feminine preference) #The Holmes Siblings Are Speaking And You Will Listen

Gregory House, introject. he/him

The Pantheon: Sidesystem of Doctor Who fictives. They mostly keep to the innerworld as of late. collective he/they/it, although if any of them decide otherwise they'll bring it up. Collective tags: #🟦⏳, #the doctor speaks

Montessori Sidesystem: made up mostly of minors. please interact accordingly

J, Protector/Caretaker/Babysitter, fictive. he/they/it. #Cowboy Dad

Anoitos, syskid. he/she. #anni cherub

Dipper, syskid, fictive. he/they

Mabel, syskid, fictive. she/her

Link, frequent fronter, Chef & Rationalizer, fictive. they/he. #💚🗡️

A Major Sidesystem: SCP Foundation fictives. collective tags: #a major system, #🔫🤠

Francis W, frequent fronter, Gatekeeper, Consul, fictive. he/they

Apollo, Caretaker, Substitute Babysitter for the Montessori sidesys, noncanon fictive. he/him

Ukulele, Gunslinger & Auxiliary Gatekeeper, fictive. they/them

Alto (signs posts with "A.Clef" and variations), fictive. they/it. #Gay Horror Music Man

anyways, we're still not 100% clear on our complete origins, but we support endo/non-traumagenic systems. not going to have a collective DNI, but don't be rude, and we block liberally.

- Arachne

Edit: any headmates who do not front or use this blog have been removed from this list and/or will not be added until they do, even if they are referenced by other headmates.

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moiderahart · 1 year ago

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oh since my armored core queer flags are getting some numbers

check out my armor decor.

C3-272 - CALLSIGN "NEEDLE"

An independent mercenary who was present on Rubicon for years before vanishing. Even after their apparent disappearance, there have been reports of a mech that appears from seemingly nowhere, pumps a pilebunker into a priority target, and then leaves before the enemy force can retaliate.

Not much is actually known about them; there usually isn't much to the reports of the Red Handed from survivors, though the different versions of the Red Handed imply a certain level of affinity for this particular mech. Each time the Red Handed is severely damaged in battle, the machine has parts replaced; from the arms, to the legs, to even the head. The only consistent sign is the pilebunker and the bright red of its Coral Reactor, which was installed just before NEEDLE went AWOL.

This particular arena profile is based on a combination of qualities from when NEEDLE was still in ALLMIND's database, and what could be gathered from more current reports. This particular design is designated "THETA"

[I'll probably post art of NEEDLE and the Red-Handed later]

#mech #mecha #armored core #armored core 6 #armored core 6 decals #armor decor

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clanoffelidae · 1 year ago

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In this essay I will-

I think 95% of the Master's issues and being like ✨that✨ boil down to untreated PTSD and generalized anxiety that just keep feeding off of each other and compounding in a positive feedback loop as time goes on.

They never had much control over their own life, first from Time Lord society just being like ✨that✨(which is more than enough to severely traumatize anyone who spends more than five minutes on Gallifrey tbh) and then on and on what with also being the son of nobility, Theta running away and shattering what little solid future they felt they could see, being resurrected by the Time Lords specifically to fight, the drums, whatever the hell happened after they went back through the Time Lock, just to name what I can think of off the top of my head. The Master has never really had control or security and is always desperately trying to grab hold of it, hence their name. (Because let's be honest, unless that individual is very kinky, the only person who's going to be naming themself 'the Master' is someone who is extremely insecure and is doing everything they can to try and get a sense of control and safety.)

They're deeply traumatized by this constant manipulation and lack of security, and the fact that it never ends nor do they ever get any help for it means that it keeps building off of itself and worsening that feeling of insecurity, leaving them a more and more anxious wreck as time goes on, always feeling like everything is spiraling out of control. The Master is also desperate to live, clinging to life however they have to; going through unfathomable lengths from possession, whatever was going on with Crispy, more possession, chameleon arches, and resurrection just to get one more breath. They want control of their own life and existence, and of course one of the largest parts of that is control of their literal life, ergo control of their death and successfully securing themself from it.

And all of this compiles into a person trying to lay claim to everything they can, trying to conquer all they see to secure the entirety of their surroundings, manipulate everyone to be under their command so that they know exactly what everyone is doing and thinking and there are no unknown variables, and most interestingly of all - push the Doctor into embracing their destructive potential.

Which, at a surface level glance, makes absolutely no sense. Why the hell would someone who is scared simply be virtue of being alive then actively try and push an individual whom they acknowledge as being far more fearsome and powerful than they into a rampage?

Because they feel that it's going to happen anyway, so if they cause it, then that means that they have a little control over it.

But why are they convinced that the Doctor is inevitably going to go on a destructive rampage across the universe?

Because the Master has spent all of their lives scared and spiraling out of control because of it, desperately lashing out at everything around them in an attempt to find security. They're scared, and they've always been scared; so they can't possibly imagine that the Doctor doesn't feel the same way.

Oh the Doctor says it, and they logically acknowledge that the Doctor has different experiences from them, but at a core level they can't really understand it. On a core level the Master can't imagine someone not being as scared as they are and so can't truly reconcile with the fact that the Doctor isn't.

Because if they've always been scared, and can't imagine that anyone else could not feel that way, then it follows suit that they're watching the Doctor like a ticking time bomb just waiting for them to blow, just waiting for the Doctor to start lashing out like they are, because they just can't imagine that that isn't going to happen.

They can't imagine that the Doctor might not need to destroy and lay claim and conquer just to feel some semblance of safety and security, so that means it's going to happen eventually some day, the Doctor is inevitably going to lose control in their eyes.

So if they're the one who pushes the Doctor into it then they get to keep some small fraction of control over the oncoming storm; they get to feel a little bit safer, no matter how paradoxical the feeling, because they were the one who pushed the Doctor to break, as they are convinced is inevitably going to happen, so they had control over it. They had control over this powerful and unknowable variable, so it makes them feel safer; even if the rampaging Doctor turns and kills them, they paradoxically feel safer for it because they had control over it.

So that's why the Master keeps desperately trying to break the Doctor, because they're scared of them, but by pushing their fears into becoming reality then they were the one who controlled when those fears came true; because they just can't imagine that maybe the Doctor won't ever snap, and that maybe their fears won't ever come true, and that maybe all they're running from is bad dreams.

So anyway, in conclusion I think a lot of things would be fixed if someone just gave the Master some space-Xanax and space-therapy; they'd still be a sadistic bastard who gets a kick out of toying with people like a cat with mice, but they'd be a lot better about it thanks for coming to my TED talk.

#doctor who #the doctor #the master #thoschei #maybe not in a shippy way but in a 'it's about their relationship' kinda way #should write a fic where either harold saxon or O ends up getting therapy and psychiatric treatment bc one of the humans gets worried #so the doctor shows up and the master is just like 'ah! it's good to see you - yes yes come in i'll put the kettle on :)'#and legit means it because they're still a bastard but also doing SO much better now and want a cuppa with their bestie husband #thirteen is still the master's husband change my mind #master who embraces the routine life of their disguise to find stability and ends up doing a bang up job of whatever it is #'harold saxon isn't who you think he is' 'he's the best damn minister we've had in decades'#'he's not even human!!!' 'don't discriminate it's rude'

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