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cr1ms0n4nd-ac3 · 7 months ago

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Part 3: DAY 03

( Sleep Token Lyric Challenge by @a-s-levynn )

This ain't gonna be art for now..

yet.

But instead! An oc's sibling angst oneshot,but before you must start.. warnings ↓

{ TW/TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Implied kidnapping

Mentions of Dysfunctional Family and Implied Abuse(such as either mental, emotional and physical.)

Mentions of Death ( which includes characters who are my ocs, also um parent death. )

Implied Panic Attacks

Mentions of Nightmares

Styles of Anxiety and Paranoia

And Mental Heath mentioned.}

( Btw, just to let you know that this is only my oc lore and my interpretation canon lore to ST, and no this is not canon in real life that they will be having a new band member. I just had to clarify just in case fore' I had to block someone who had said it. )

That will be a first POV of this lore I will be working btw.. and with that!

Let us begin..

an Ascensionism inspired angst oneshot.

Undercut: ↓

[ August 3, 2023 took place of-

Las Vegas, the REDACTED Residence on a streetown. ]

There is no way, no way that the brother that I always love..

now went missing.

I can't be all alone! NOT LIKE THIS!!

Not without my brother like that!! How am I supposed to keep on waiting since he told me that secret?!

...But none of that matters anyway, my sisters were still nicer to me.. though I- can notice that they felt tired.

I see why..

All was starting with worry when Jasmine tried to call Ace, over and over again but there is no response.

Til now.. Hell broke loose when She and Nora began to argue outside of my room during 8:14 PM after Nora returned from working at Starbucks.. I didn't like that, when I began to just hearing that Ace haven't responded her calls.

I didn't believe her at first.. til I tried calling him too.

No responses.

Yet it's the same thing when I tried and tried again. But again, all nothing but silence.

Now I feel scared, scared if my brother was either snatched by someone, or is it because he was busy? But what I am now officially dealing with is that.. well—

I didn't want the broken family we used to had unto from return, Jasmine began to feel tired, feel workaholic, and yet anger is inside because she'll do what it takes to find Ace.. She now works for the detective after she had to quit her job for being a gardener, but Nora and I were worried, but we also didn't want to interrupt her.. and so, we had no choice.

We had to leave her and move somewhere so that she won't hurt us again.

Like our own mother and grandfather from before.

I remember Father and Auntie trying to protect us from them, not until they died from a terrible accident.. yet we're the only three left, the Siblings.

[ August 8, 2023, 10:38 PM.. 4 weeks later after. ]

My own sense of anxiety and paranoia began to spread as I was just lying still on my bed, staring at the celling from midnight. Reflecting it like a shadow shuddering behind the celling fan.. and yet I was shaking from only fear. Because of fear, only just fear and nothing else.

I can't help but feel nothing as a fragile doll, but I don't want them to know..

...There was a nightmare I had, 3 weeks ago at 11:11 PM.

I didn't even want to mention it but it was so scary... Scary but at first, me and Ace were just playing around at the neighborhood, I didn't realize that something happened. Then I stopped, in confusion.. and now scared, as I just saw my brother being held from blue strings, for me, I was forced to watch him get dragged away by... those 5 red eyes.

Yes, those 5 red eyes... I'm not sure what that was. But it scared me.

I was supposed to run up to my brother, reaching him, trying to save him from whatever is trying to get him.

But darkness nor light either tried to stop me, as I got greeted by an...archangel entity–like demi-god, it looked like a woman but not like that in my own eyes.

This demi-god I first saw has 5 eyes, white silvered skin, glowing red color, 3 wings, a black veil dressed and dried dark brown medium-like hair, while staring at my brother who is now in strings like a puppet doll. There was someone controlling him..

I was too frozen when staring at...whoever is hunting my dreams, the expression was blank, blank at first but there is a smile to the lips.. she slowly placed a finger on her lips to keep me quiet, I don't know what to do now but to nod despite my paranoia and fear beginning to rise up.

Then she proceeded to leave like a floating angel, when I tried to get up and shouted at my brother's name to make him "respond"..

I now woke up, shaking and shivering what I just witness.

It was someone, someone who was actually the one who took my brother away from me. And yet I...hated that nightmare. I really do.

Then weeks later, I always pretended that everything is okay to my sister Nora, she was suspicious at first but she always just shrugged and just..let that slide, thank god.

I was this lucky enough that I began to had an panic attack when I was home alone, lucky me didn't have the security cameras at our new home.. Wonder how Jasmine is okay but who knows...

I feel she is no longer the first older sister I loved now. She has changed.

But what that reminds me... Ace is a journalist, he is trying to research about that "Sleep" God he tells me and my sisters' stories about. Every now and then.

Until realization hits me...

Did it just..

.....Was it the one who took Ace?

..Did it, or she actually did?

Or is just my anxiety trying and making me feel delusional?

And yet I hate it.

I hated it so much that I can't help but cry quietly and softly in fear and anxiety mixing together from my brain and body, I tend to cover it with under my own pillow and my blanket.

This is really all my fault for keeping a lot of secrets, it must have been. Because before the week he went missing, he told me about something of him wanting to be a new bandmate of that band we all loved.

I just wish I could stay with Ace.

I just wish I couldn't keep his secrets but I just can't do it, ..bitter consequences will hit me if I say the truth to the ones I know.

This will be the bitter deception I will be forced to live on for now. And it cannot make me feel safe. Nor to set me free from the tragic and sadness that I've been through.

....But maybe.... just— m-maybe..

If you are really safe for me, or you feel comfort for being safe to whoever snatched you, dear brother..

Will you come home?

#oc #oc angst #fanfic #angst oneshot #oneshot #sleep token #sleep token oc #sleep token 666 #<- ( mentioned. )#sleep token band #sleep token fanfic #sleep token fanfiction #tw implied kidnapping #tw mentions of dysfunctional fam #tw mentions of death #tw anxiety #tw paranoia #tw mental health mention #tw parent death mention #tw implied abuse #tw mentions of nightmares #Poor Jake has been through a lot!!!#Btw. Jake and Jasmine will have a very important role during the lore expansion.. they've changed of what they do nor don't want to be now.#sleep token sleep #<- ( mentioned but she only appears in whatever scenes I put lol )#Ma boy is slowly bout to get mental health during the age of 11- I .... feel bad honestly to my ocs help #🥲😭 my honest reaction to this:#a series of small offerings #welp- time for day 4 tomorrow! this time its art again hehe...#time to torture Jake for angst- sorry little small blond boi 😭

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case-study-on-love-comic · 3 months ago

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CASE 5: Narcissism

cw: eating disorder, gaslighting, body shaming

Second of the three calls I had with him after we broke up.

#abuse survivor #vent post #tw: abuse #vent comic #tw: emotional abuse #art #artists on tumblr #emotional abuse #small incidents #abuse victim #tw: eating issues #tw: ed mention #vent #tw: gaslighting #comic

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chronosbled · 10 months ago

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{ I noticed that lots of people tend to forget that Dickson is a mentally unstable individual who will do anything that he deems necessary to get what he wants all because he speaks to their muses and such with nothing but smiles and compliments.

Dickson is NOT a kind or compassionate person, nor does he care about those that he isn't actively pursuing for the sake of genuine friendship or genuine obsession (love in his eyes). Being kind and compassionate is nothing but another mask that he wears from his various collection when he deems it necessary. As an experiment, along with his condition that makes him unable to properly form and convey emotions (which was only worsened by the experimentation he underwent), Dickson is almost 100% incapable of feeling genuine emotions that belong to him and him alone. He has a habit of using the things he's learned from others by watching them when he's trying to portray his own "feelings" towards others and that's the main issue. Those feelings aren't his ACTUAL feelings, they're someone else's, how someone else he observed for years would react.

If someone were to somehow have the ability to strip him of his masks (his "emotions" and "feelings" if you would call them that), they would find nothing but an empty and broken shell of a person who doesn't know how to do anything but obey someone's orders or someone who completely disregards himself (as in his own well-being) when it comes to endlessly toiling away at his own experiments — and despite his experiments revolving around people who have been fucked over by life, making his own attempts to somehow benefit them — his motivation for said deed was not 100% done out of his own desire to do so, but done because (once he was finally able to recall more about his parents from his childhood) he remembered how the both of them desired to use their skills for good and to help those who cannot help themselves. Thus he applied his parents' feelings to himself and uses that core fundamental as the basis of his entire existence (after his grandfather is finally dead and he doesn't have an actual purpose anymore).

Another reason why Dickson shouldn't be underestimated (and simply chalked up to be the sweet, handsome gentleman) is because of the fact he isn't afraid to use and abuse people for his own gain. He will hurt people. He will manipulate people. He will blackmail them and torture them just like he was. And above all else, he WILL kill people. Dickson is not afraid of getting his hands dirty nor is he afraid to take people hostage and brainwash them to do his bidding if he finds it too much of a hassle for himself (or simply because he won't get caught this way if others are watching him). Before Dickson was able to take care of himself and do things for himself, his grandfather had him work as an assassin of sorts (or rather a mercenary if that's what you prefer to call it), granted he wasn't great at it in the beginning because he was very clumsy and wasn't quite sure of what he was doing, but in the end, he still killed people and usually in various creative and cruel ways too if the opportunity to do so provided itself. Additionally, Dickson will also go to any lengths he deems necessary to make sure his target doesn't come out alive, such as the time he chopped off his own hand in order to free himself so he could proceed to kill his client's target.

Sure Dickson may have been more hesitant to do terrible things when he was younger, like when his late fiancée, Janus, wanted him to help her murder various people simply because she felt like it and he didn't want to participate, but that's Dickson was a lot more weak-willed and timid during his childhood. Back then, he didn't have almost any drive to do anything because he wasn't conditioned to be subservient yet. Granted he still would listen to his grandfather's orders without question, but Janus hadn't fully established that kind of FULL control over him since he'd only known her for a few years, thus that lack of control over him is what ended up leading him to kill Janus when she finally got fed up with him enough to begin beating him (that day anyway, considering she was always abusive towards him). That fear he possessed from his childhood years (something I've already established in posts before) had changed into anger (another thing I've already established in past posts) before he finally ended up snapping all together and stabbing Janus to death, regretting what he had done for only a few moments until that dissipated as well because he simply couldn't bring himself to care. The fact that he stored her body in a freezer within the basement of the Simmons Estate only serves as a reminder of how he started in his mind.

One of the biggest reasons why people should remember that Dickson isn't just a pretty face is the HUGE fact that he basically has his own servant (more like mind slave) that both he and Janus shared together when she was still alive, that he ACTIVELY participated in breaking on the days he had suffered himself (granted he was made to believe it was alright by Janus, but that's besides the point). This point here is a perfect way to represent just how broken and unstable Dickson is as well because normally Dickson was the one who tried to keep Janus from tormenting Belphegor (the name Janus decided to give the boy despite him already having a name) and was often the one trying to tend to whatever wounds Janus had created, be them physical or mental ones (though Dickson was only good at mending physical wounds). In Belphegor's mind, Dickson was going to become his savior at some point due to the fact he showed more compassion towards him than Janus did, but this sentiment ended up proving false the day Dickson murdered Janus. Dickson's once gentle and caring demeanor towards Belphegor ended up changing into something more deranged and it only proceeded to get worse once Carla died as well — gentle gestures of affection soon became more aggressive and agitated, once soothing and comforting words became accusatory and possessive, promises of better treatment and freedom became guilt-tripping and manipulation — eventually leading for Belphegor's mental state to be completely broken down to the point he became a puppet for whatever Dickson desired.

Now, you're probably thinking "but hey, doesn't this contradict everything you've posted about Dickson before? You know, the stuff about him not wanting to be like his grandfather and such?" And in a sense, yes, I did contradict myself, but at the same time... I didn't. Why? Because Dickson didn't want to become like his grandfather or Janus or any of the people who tormented him for the entirety of his life, but when you are basically a prisoner within your own home and are subjected to abuse for so long, you generally end up developing Stockholm Syndrome and that's basically what happened to Dickson. The abuse and torment are what lead up to Dickson basically becoming his grandfather and Janus, but he only realizes this once he joins the BSAA and meets Chris and his team. Why does he realize this? Well, that's because of the simple fact that they all treat him like an ally and not a tool. They slowly begin to make him realize that he isn't just an object for someone's desires nor is he just a toy that will be endlessly used until it's broken and tossed away. They made him feel something that he's never felt before: human. They made him feel like he was an ACTUAL human being and not a monster, that he wasn't some kind of murderous and heartless creature, but instead was their close friend and even a part of their little family, which is something that Dickson has always wanted so desperately deep down inside of his very being. Not his grandfather. Not Janus. Not his mother or father. Not Carla. Dickson. Something that HE wanted. One of the very first and only things he's ever wanted in his life. Granted he still wears his various masks around them, but that's because he doesn't know how to stop nor does he want them to know just how inhuman he really is.

^^^ And this whole above paragraph really does help to show just how broken Dickson is and how even just a little bit of love and care towards him can make him into a completely different person, especially if we jump back to this line here in the first paragraph: "Dickson is NOT a kind or compassionate person, nor does he care about those that he isn't actively pursuing for the sake of genuine friendship or genuine obsession (love in his eyes)." The only reason he cares so much about Chris and his team is because of the simple fact they tried to develop genuine friendships with him to the point he had become obsessively in love with each and every one of them (some in platonic ways: Chris, Philis, Finn, Jill, Steve, and some in romantic ways: Victoria and Piers).

But back to the topic of the mind slave, due to the fact that Dickson had finally come into contact with people who... understood him in a sense for lack of a better word... he began to think that he could actually be something other than a tool and because of that, he also believed that maybe Belphegor could be more than a tool as well. Of course, due to being completely broken by Dickson, there wasn't much that could be done for him in the ways of... fixing him so in the end, Dickson simply continues to use Belphegor for whatever he deems necessary but instead of treating him as badly as he had before, he now somewhat treats him as he used to (though he can still be rather harsh when he isn't in the greatest of moods).

So with all that being said, I advise you all (especially those of you with muses that are seeking out romantic affairs with Dickson) to proceed with the utmost caution when doing so because there may come a point where Dickson doesn't care about your muse anymore and simply chooses to discard them (minus Crystal of course because that's his wifey). }

#☣ [ ' Eʋҽɾყσɳҽ Lσʋҽʂ A Vιʅʅαιɳ. ' ] - ✡ Dιƈƙʂσɳ Gҽɾαʅԃ Rҽɠιɳαʅԃ Sιɱɱσɳʂ ✡#☣ [ ' Hαυɳƚҽԃ Ⴆყ ƚԋҽ ɯσɾԃʂ ყσυ ʅҽϝƚ υɳʂαιԃ. ' ] - ✡ Hҽαԃƈαɳσɳʂ ✡#tw; long post #tw; murder mentions #tw; abuse mentions #tw; obsession mentions #tw; experimentation mentions #tw; mental illness mentions #{ Jesus christ this got long as all hell. }#{ I only meant to write a few small paragraphs not a whole damn essay. }#{ But I had to go into detail about this issue because I've been getting a lot more people trying to woo Dickson. }#{ But none of them fully know or understand how dangerous his character actually is. }#{ This is also a nice post to have to remind people that do ship with him too though so huzzah! }#{ Feel free to read through this if you'd like. }#{ I'm dipping out for now. }

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palismet · 1 year ago

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no because it IS in the fact that belos had moments where he was kind to hunter. the gentleness of an almost love. something for him, as well, to hold on to caleb by. even by ghost, by dream, by copy.

hunter asking about the human realm in eclipse lake and shaking his head no to belos' you know i've been there before, have i ever told you that? that instilled curiosity is hunter's through and through: but oh, some piece of him has to feel at home in the human world. some part of him being there like finally, finally, i have been waiting for this, i remember you.

that soft nostalgia in belos' tone. the way hunter softens in the face of it? there had to have been more moments like this. not many, not enough by far, but enough to keep him holding on until the next one. enough to keep working towards. motivation, drive, inspiration.

not just for approval, but for pride, for love.

even if it never comes, there is always, always the chance of it.

and that's enough to keep dreaming by. hoping for. fighting for.

because it has to be. it has to be.

#child abuse mentions tw #hunter interp.#hunter toh #hunter being abused is very important to his character but oh to be loyal to a fault bc there IS kindness.#the chance of it like a ghost you need. a haunting you come to depend on. like it's own kind of light?#there is some small slippage of vulnerability in there. enough to hold on to in those times of hurt.#enough to dream for. to hope to achieve once more. one day i'll talk ab the transactional nature of some of the -#relationships in toh bc ooooh it hurts. it's so good but it hurt sm.#aaaaaaaaaaa u kno.

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captainsweet · 2 years ago

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I know people have talked about this already, but what is it about you guys that makes you love bashing a TMNT group in your crossovers?

Like, there are so many fanfics I've read where people just, show that they probably don't even like the certain show.

The one that has gotten the most of this behavior is the 2012 version. And it's.. honestly ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous.

2012 isn't my favorite, and some of the characters annoy me and there are even some I despise, but, and excuse my language, this is complete and utter bullshit.

You guys need to get your shit together, because this is plain childish. You're writing a whole damn story just to praise how good and wonderful your fav is while leaving the other to rot.

And if you do genuinely like the content of 2012, and you have written one of the stories I'm mentioning, you also need to set yourself straight, because you should know better.

The 'Rise adopts 2012 Mikey', and '2012 goes to 2018' stories seem to be what usually holds the bashing. But there are so many I can't keep count for long.

Though that may be because of my bad memory.

Rise isn't better, and as much as I love it, doesn't deserve to be put on a pedestal built off of hate for their previous versions.

That doesn't mean '12 is better either, so don't get it twisted. '12 has it's own issues that people dislike for their own reasons, they aren't better than Rise and Rise isn't better than them.

And this bashing thing is absolutely insane.

A few, a light few, of the most popular stories are just, Rise being better than '12 because, 'they're a REAL family' and 'they don't @büs3 each other', and it pains me to see it.

You can like Rise without bashing another version on the TMNT. I personally HATED '12 for a while, and even THEN I wasn't writing shit like this.

And now? The story I'm writing doesn't even include any negative points until later. It's just, pure fluff that has like, no drama until the second chapter.

I don't like '12 April, and besides me making a few jokes at her, I still don't bash her. I don't like '12 Splinter all that much either, but what do you know, he's still a good father in the story.

I don't even like Karai because I find her annoying, but woop-de-fucking-doo, she's going to be herself in the story.

It's so easy to just write them as themselves that none of you have an excuse. If me, a previous '12 hater and now a person who watches it, can pull my shit together enough to write a crossover that tries it's best to put bias away to be fair to other characters and make a non bash fic, you can too.

Now please don't make me have to make a part two of this post, I'm tired and just want to see the Rise boys have fun with their counterparts, is that so much to ask?

I made this post because I saw yet another bash fic pass my dash, and I'm just.. tired. So tired. I don't care if it ends up being that five people made these, because these stories are popular, and that's a problem.

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uncanny-tranny · 11 months ago

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I've noticed an attitude that some parents have where their perceived right to own their children outweighs their duty as a parent. It seems like so much emphasis is placed on the parents ability to own raise a child that it completely clouds any other responsibility for that child. I see it all the time around my culture, where parenthood isn't a question of "if," but "when," because it is seen as ubiquitous to being an adult, and I wonder how many people start believing that because they were expected to be a parent even when they did not want parenthood, they should be rewarded for it.

These are just shots of thoughts, but I've found that this idea that parenthood is your right when you own a child can contribute to an environment of abuse, neglect, or mistreatment of the child/ren in one's care.

And, absolutely, the opportunity of even being a parent has been leveraged in cruel ways, and I think that's an important consideration because it is completely heinous. In my country alone, forced sterilization has been a political strategy for eugenics and to complete a political narrative about the worth of people's right to even live. When thinking about everything above, it reminded me of other ways that parenthood both reinforces violence, perpetuates violence, and threatens violence. This problem goes much deeper than I think many are ready for, and I wanted to acknowledge this due to how pervasive this "political strategy" was/is in many places. I don't think I myself am equipped to truly do this specific topic justice, but I felt it pertinent to this conversation, and something I don't always see even passively acknowledged.

#politics #youth liberation #forced sterilization tw #abuse #abuse tw #abuse mention tw #the first two paragraphs i wrote and then remembered exactly how deep this goes and i think multiple things are true at once #the pressure to be a parent has had drastically horroble results but also... parenthood has been forcibly revoked from people...#...in my country specifically the disabled/indigenous/Black communities and i am SURE i'm missing people. this is a small example...#...their right to autonomy and even the /chance/ to care for life was stolen away from them #parenthood becomes a tool and strategy not for parental sake but for violence

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collectingsparechangemadeeasy1 · 2 years ago

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Painting the Town Red

So I’ll be adding it in the tags, but there’s a trigger warning of a child being beaten, and a very brief mention alluding to kidnapping, if there’s anything else I should add to that, let me know!

Oscar bounded after his dad after leaving Fairytale at the stables with Long Memory. They were visiting the town today to run some errands, and Oscar was ecstatic! He so rarely got to go into town, partly because they had what they needed to live at the farm, but partly because dad was a little over protective, and said it was dangerous. But he was going today! He was so excited, he could just explode! In fact, he kinda was! Little green magic fireworks shot off randomly from his head, sometimes his magic would do funny stuff when he was feeling something really strongly.

He bounced along his dads side, half listening to the itinerary of the day. Hot cocoa ingredients, new horse brushes, blah blah blah, potions from aunt Glynda! But she wasn’t in today… so they would get them from her assistant Gray, boo. Seeds, blah blah blah.

Oscar looked around in wonderment at all the stalls and built shops around them. People selling clothes of bright hues to the left, someone cooking delicious smelling meat to the right, and ahead some someone yelling about how amazing their jewelry was, another was arguing about prices.

Oscar pressed a bit closer to his dad. It was… so much. He’d been to town a few times, but they didn’t go through this part… Was there an event? Was something special happening? It was hot outside too… His head was starting to spin, people were yelling, some calling out to him, everything was so bright, it hurt his eyes. He tried to cover his ears and close his eyes, but people shoved into him and made him stumble, they glared or even shouted at him. He didn’t immediately register he wasn’t with his dad anymore.

His breathing was heavy and erratic, he felt hot and uncomfortable, his clothes were clinging in all the wrong ways and places and he felt tears brimming in his eyes. He wanted his dad! He wanted to go home! This was a bad idea! He should have stayed on the farm today! He wanted to go home!

Finally he stumbled into an alleyway between two shops and was able to scurry away from all the noise and heat and light. He curled up, putting his head between his knees as he sobbed softly. This was turning into a horrible day… He felt gross but in a bad way, not in the “just worked the fields and now I’m gross” way. He’d lost his dad, he had no idea where he was, and he was too scared to leave the alley…

He didn’t know how long he cried for, when someone roughly grabbed his hair and yanked him into the air, making him cry out in pain. He wriggled and kicked, fearful tears coming faster now. He sobbed, looking into the eyes of the man that held him. He was clean shaven, and smelled like something sweet and cigar smoke. The smell was oddly comforting, since his dad smelled like cigars sometimes.

He had bright red hair that covered one of his eyes, the visible one was a bright flashing green. He wore a white trench coat, his hands bore black gloves with orange jack-o-lanterns faces on the backs. His shirt was a black blouse, a gray ribbon tied around the neckline, with gray pants and black shiny shoes. He also wore a bowler hat, with a dyed pink, brown, and white feather in the band.

His companion was a small girl, with half pink and half brown hair, little streaks of white running through the dual colors, her eyes matched. She wore a white three quarters sleeved sheath dress with a slit up to her thigh up the side, and a half pink half brown demi-loop corset that had black lace around the edges.

“Well… look what we have here? A little brat all alone. Where’s your mommy?” The man holding him up asked mockingly, shaking Oscar and making him cry out in pain.

“I-I don’t have one, let me go!” He pleaded, but it only made the man laugh at him, the girl smiled cruelly.

“Awwww! He doesn’t have a mommy!” he cooed patronizingly. “How sad! Say Neo, you want a kid?” The girl, Neo, gained a look of utter disgust and spat on Oscar. “Woof, tough break kid. My partner here doesn’t seem to like you.”

He shook horribly, his head hurt so much from where the man was holding him, and he wanted his dad more than ever right now. “W-what do you want from me?”

The man scoffed and jostled him roughly with another cry of pain.“There’s nothing a pipsqueak like you could really give me. But I’ll take whatever you have, and since I’ve had a rough day, I think I’ll take it out on you. Sounds fair?”

Oscar grunted in pain as he was suddenly thrown to the ground, his head banging against the curb, making stars dance in his eyes. And then… pain exploded through his abdomen as a hard kick connected, making him gasp, gag, and wretch horribly. Tears dripped down his cheeks as darkness blurred across his vision.

Another blow rang out, but this time it wasn’t aimed at Oscar. A rock clattered to the ground, one that had been thrown at the man, hitting him square in the forehead. “Ah! What the- who would dare- Ow!” He cried out as another rock hit him, and another and another! It was a malstrom of projectiles.

Oscar looked to the end of the alley where the rocks were coming from. Three teenagers stood there, throwing the rocks at his assailants.

“Get lost creep!” the shortest girl cried, hurling a large rock at the pair. Her hair was short and a bit choppy, like she’d cut it herself, and a bright pale orange. Her eyes were a bright baby blue. She wore a white long sleeved shirt, a pink heart painted on the front. A dark grey sweater where she seemed to have endless rocks stored, was around her shoulders. And her skirt was a pink and blue plaid design, a white petticoat under it.

“Yeah! Leave him alone!” The blonde boy agreed, though his voice was shakier. He had blue eyes and a little brown cap on his head, and brown fingerless gloves. A black hooded cloak with a gray bunny on the front was around his shoulders. As well as a white blouse and blue pants, with brown mud caked boots.

“Go away! Get out of here!” The boy with the pink streak in his hair huffed, using vines to throw more pebbles at the pair. He had bright pink eyes, like the geraniums his dad planted last year. He wore green overalls with a pink lotus on the front chest pocket, a pink long sleeved shirt with black sleeves, and black boots with gold laces. His hair was tied back with a white and pink ribbon.

“And don’t come back!” The tall girl nodded, levitating some of the stones to hurl at the two. She had bright green eyes, but not like the mans, hers were kinder, even in her furied state. Her hair was long and red, held back by a black cord and kept neat with a gold circlet that had a green emerald in the center. She had a brown blouse with a braided design on the sides of the chest and a collar. Her knit sweater was a dark red color and seemed a bit big on her. She wore a golden yellow skirt with matching suspenders, black tights, and brown boots with gold heels.

The pair looked ready to attack the group of teens, but realizing they were outnumbered, and that the four were magic users. They shared a look, glared at Oscar, and ran, leaving the scent of cigar smoke and something sweet. Oscar didn’t get up when they left, the kick was strong and Oscar was sure the man had been wearing some kind of metal shoe. His stomach ached, his head was throbbing where the man had grabbed him, and he was sure he was bleeding… “Hey, are you ok?” the short girl with orange spiky hair asked, kneeling next to him.

Oscar shook his head, whimpering softly. “N-no…”

“Here, this might help.” the boy with pink eyes knelt next to him and hovered his hands over Oscar. They glowed a bright pink color and Oscar felt his pain easing and he breathed a sigh of relief. Healing magic… Not an easy thing to learn.

“Thank you…” he said softly, slowly sitting up with the aid of the tall girl and the blonde boy. “You saved me.”

“Awww, it was nothing. We just saw a creep and knew we had to put the beat down!” the orange haired girl declared, sticking out her hand. “My names Nora! These are my friends!”

“Jaune.” the blonde one smiled sheepishly.

“Lie-Ren.” The one with pink eyes bowed slightly.

“Pyrrha!” The red haired girl chirped. “And what’s your name?”

“It’s-”

“OSCAR!” there came a cry from the end of the alley, and Oscar’s heart leapt to his throat.

“DAD!” he cried, trying to stand to rush to him, but could barely take a step before falling over. Luckily, his dad was there now, and he caught him.

“Oscar! Oh Oscar! I lost you in the crowd! I was so scared! Oh never scare me like that again!” his dad all but sobbed, holding onto him like his life depended on it. “What happened? Who hurt you?”

“I-I don’t know… One was named Neo I think…” he sniffled, holding tightly to his dad.

“Neapolitan and Roman Torchwick.” Ren informed, “Known criminal kingpins of Vale. Guess they were having an off day.”

“We scared ‘em off though! They ran like a couple’a babies!” Nora smirked triumphantly.

Oscars dad breathed slowly and stood, holding Oscar still. “Thank you. All, I don’t know how to repay you for this.”

“No payment needed!” Pyrrha laughed a bit nervously, pausing as Jaune whispered something in her ear. She went a bit red and quickly snatched the circlet off her head. “Just uh- doing the right thing!”

He smiled and kissed Oscar’s head. “Well… why don’t I at least buy you all some treats, hm? Candy floss or ice cream perhaps? You did a great deed, let me thank you.”

Before Pyrrha could protest Nora was already tugging the older man by his coat, “Both! Can we do both! I want both!”

“Nora, remember your manners.” Ren chided as he followed along, Jaune trailing behind, holding Pyrrha’s hand as they followed his dad like ducklings.

Oscar smiled softly, sighing contently as his dad slowly wound his own healing magic through him. Maybe this trip to town wasn’t as awful as he thought…

#tw child injury #tw child abuse #tw mentions of kidnapping #Small Moments au #Oscar pine #Ozpin #rwby au #Dadpin

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razzle-zazzle · 1 year ago

Text

Whumptober Day 20: people don't change people, time does

Found Family

4390 Words; Pooter Pile AU

TW for child abuse, attempted murder, unethical experimentation, blood mention

AO3 ver

“Gisu!”

Gisu looked up at the sound of the door slamming open. Dion let his leg fall back to the floor, his arms securely wrapped around the book he was carrying. Gisu felt a trickle of amusement as Dion stalked over to her, slamming the book on the desk.

It had only been two days since Raz ran off. Dion had come to surprisingly quickly after being thrown like that—maybe it was an acrobat thing. But he had had the worst headache, so it was nice to see him moving with his usual energy, again.

It’d be even nicer if Raz hadn’t run off, but still.

“I know where Raz went!” Dion exclaimed. “Is trying to go. Whatever. But I know where it is!” He flipped the book open, revealing it to be a photo album. Gisu got only a moment to glance at what she assumed were Dion’s baby pictures before he flipped to the page he wanted. “There.” He pointed at the picture of the family all assembled before the Aquatodome—it must have been a few years old, because Gisu couldn’t see Queepie anywhere, but she could see a much younger Mirtala held aloft in Donatella’s arms.

“Cute photo.” Gisu commented, totally not focusing on the massive grin on younger-photo-Dion’s face. “What makes you think Raz is going there?”

Dion pointed at the photo—at the background of the photo, Gisu realized, his finger tapping the mountain dominating the landscape. “When Raz hit me with his… psychic thingy, I think…” He trailed off, searching for the words. “Psychic bullshit involves mind stuff, right? Like thoughts and feelings.”

“Yeah…” Gisu nodded.

“And I’ve been seeing the same fucking mountain since he hit me,” Dion continued, “Which means it’s probably, like, an afterthought of it.”

“After-effect,” Gisu corrected.

“Yeah, that.” Dion agreed. His hands moved as he spoke and paced around, and it was utterly fascinating, even as his words kept coming out stream-of-consciousness style. “So I keep seeing this mountain, and it’s so familiar, like an itch in the back of my mind, yanno? So I start digging through our old albums, because I swear I’ve seen this mountain somewhere before, and I know it’s important, so I kept searching and—”

“And then you found it?” Gisu asked, trying not to let too much fondness creep into her voice. A little bit is okay, but it’s too early to be getting sappy.

“Yeah!” Dion nodded emphatically, once again by the desk and tapping the photo. “It doesn’t look exactly the same but I know that that’s the one. That’s the mountain that Raz is going to.” He looked at Gisu with so much intensity that she thought he might burst, and said, “I keep feeling like I need to go there.”

Gisu leaned back in her chair. “Do you?”

“Yes!” Dion threw his hands in the air. “No? I don’t know!” He paced a small half-circle, “But that’s where Raz is. Is going. I’m sure of it!” He turned to Gisu once again. “I don’t know what to do about this.” He admitted. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to tell.”

“Well, I think—” Gisu stretched, getting out of her chair. “—that what happens next is obvious.”

“Really?’ Dion lit up. “I knew you’d know what to do! You’re really smart like that.” His face flushed, and Gisu had to take a moment to fight off the butterflies in her stomach and the heat on her own face.

“Yeah.” She smirked, grabbing Dion’s wrist. She started pulling him back towards the door.

“We’re going on a field trip!”

+=+=+=+=+

Three huffed as he leaped up over a boulder, his levball making the jump easier than climbing up by hand. Even still, this was exhausting.

But it needed to be done. He only had a little bit further to go, anyway—it had taken him a week just to get this far, and the sun had long set behind him, and he couldn’t waste anymore time.

Really, though, did Ms. Naumann have to build her lab halfway up a mountain? Three had his levball to help, but this was ridiculous.

Still, there was nothing Three could do. He just had to get there, and make everything right. So he’d do it, even if it was tiring.

He had to.

+=+=+=+=+

“I think we made pretty good time!’ Gisu chirped. And really, they kind of did. Five days to make a trip spanning across a few states—thank god for comprehensive bus routes. And her levboard. Couldn’t forget how important her baby was to this whole operation.

“I’m still not sure how you convinced me to go along with this.” Dion muttered, staring up at the mountain looming before them, the sunlight behind him casting his face in shadow. “Or why we’re doing this alone.”

“Because it’s faster that way.” Gisu offered, already setting up her board. Sure, they could have a nice little hike up the trails, but they were here on a mission. Raz had a two-day headstart—they couldn’t waste time. “C’mon.” She held out her hand, and Dion took it. Grumbling under his breath but joining her on the levboard regardless. “Let’s go find Pooter.”

+=+=+=+=+

Three crawled through the vents as quietly as he could. Benefit of the lab being half-underground, he supposed—the vents themselves were surrounded by solid rock, making them more than capable of supporting his weight.

So he crawled along, his mental link with Four helping him navigate to the bunks without issue. It took a while, and he had to wiggle a bit to get through some of the tighter turns, but he made it.

The room the clones all slept in was halfway into a natural cavern, of sorts, with a large open space above the beams holding up the lights. Three telekinetically undid the screws on the vent cover, and quietly removed the panel, holding it in the air to keep it from clattering on the ground. He crawled out onto the bunk bed directly below it, the top cot softening the impact. Once he was clear, he replaced the vent cover, but set the screws to the side—this would be his exit.

“Three?” Four’s voice cut through the room—the lights were off, right now, but Three could already feel his brother’s mental presence beginning to surge.

“Four!” Three practically lunged for his brother, his arms wrapping around Four’s shoulders with all the strength he had. I missed you I’m so happy to see you again I missed you I missed you I missed you

“Three!” Four returned the hug, pulses of missed-you and ribbons of golden elation flowing through their connection. I missed you I’m so glad you’re safe I missed you I missed you I missed you

Eventually, Three pulled back. His face crumpled, his eyes stung, and he slammed his face back into the crook of his brother’s neck. “I missed you.” He murmured, his thoughts echoing the notion.

“I missed you too.” Four returned, echoing back the same. He pulled back. “You gotta be quick,” he started. “Ms. Naumann’s been acting really weird lately.”

Three took a breath. Right. No more tears—mission now, sad later. “Weird how?”

Four winced. “Like she’s scared of something.” He mumbled. “I think…” He tried again, “She told me to call you back in a few days. I think… I think she’s going to terminate us.”

Three’s blood ran cold. The world pressed in on him, crushing weight squeezing all the air from his lungs—

Three scowled. “That’s not going to happen.” He declared. “We’re going to get Six and Raz and we’re going to get out of here.” He was done being scared of Ms. Naumann. She was wrong. She was wrong and Three felt none of the respect he’d had for her. She was wrong.

Four nodded. “It’s this way—” he started—

Something fell from the beams above to the floor beside them with a thud and a grunt, making Three and Four flinch back in surprise. The figure uncurled, groaning as it stood—

“Wh—how did you get here?” Three whisper-shouted. “Why are you here?!” Of all the—for the sake of—really? Of all the people who could have somehow followed him, it was Dion?

“Raz.” Dion started, “You have ten seconds to explain—” He stopped short, his eyes darting between Three and Four.

“Why are there two of you?” Dion’s voice went up a few notches, grating against Three’s ears. He was looking back and forth between the two of them, confusion leaching off of him in waves.

Three put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Look, Dion, I promise I’ll explain everything later.” He said, trying to ignore the way Four was starting to vibrate next to him. “When we have time.” He promised. “But I need you to not mess everything up right now—”

“Uh uh.” Dion interrupted, hands on his hips. “No way. I’m not doing anything until you explain yourself.”

“We don’t have time—” Three insisted, gritting his teeth. Why couldn’t he have been followed by someone with sense, like Frazie? Frazie was cool.

“I’m not hearing an explanation.” Dion hissed. “So I’ll ask again: What the fuck is going on here?!” he demanded—

“I find myself wondering the exact same thing.”

Three froze. Dion’s eyes were wide as he stared at the doorway behind Three. Oh no. Oh no.

Three turned around slowly, like the air around him was suddenly full of glue. Oh no no no.

None other than Ms. Naumann stood there, her lips pressed into a thin line. All of Three’s resolve dissolved under her gaze, like a wadded up napkin being tossed into the trash. Oh no.

“And who are you?” Ms. Naumann turned her attention to Dion, who looked as much like a deer in headlights as Three and Four felt.

“...very confused.” Dion admitted.

Ms. Naumann raised a hand to the bridge of her nose. “Right.” She sighed. Her hand moved to her temple, her look of resignation turning to one of concentration.

Three yelped in surprise as an arm wrapped around him, lifting into the air in a single burst of motion. Ms. Naumann shot a psi-blast, and Dion ducked under it to slide out the open door behind her, not once losing momentum even as he leapt up into a run, Three and Four tucked against his sides.

“Which way do I go?” Dion demanded, as Ms. Naumann’s footsteps echoed behind them.

“Left!” Four shouted, even as Three’s head spun trying to remember the layout. Dion skidded to a near-halt at the next intersection, deftly using his shed momentum to pivot into a turn to the left. “I still want an explanation!” He nearly screeched, following Four’s directions to duck to the right.

“Later!” Three reminded him. He squirmed in Dion’s arm until he was facing backwards, watching as Ms. Naumann came up behind them. “She’s gaining!” He shouted, and Dion picked up the pace.

“Do something then!” Dion made another turn, his grip on Three and Four tightening to keep them from slipping free.

Right! Three concentrated, lining up his shot—

Ms. Naumann’s eyes widened in surprise as Three fired. She ducked to the side, and the shot only grazed her—but she ended up stopping entirely, so Three still allowed himself a moment of silent victory. He was useful! Another shot brought down a light fixture, blocking her path. Even more useful!

Dion slid to a halt, the sudden stop jarring to Three. He squirmed, trying to see what had brought them to a halt—

“How do I open this?” Dion demanded, and Three managed to turn around entirely. They were blocked by a door—the playroom door, it looked like.

“Get me to that keypad.” Four said, and Dion moved to hold him up in front of it. Four tapped in the code—

Four hissed and pulled back his hand. “Dammit.” He muttered. “She changed it again.”

“Language.” Dion snapped. Three stuck out his tongue. Who was Dion to decide if his brother could swear? “Hurry up,” Dion added. “I don’t like how quiet it is right now.”

“I’m trying.” Four shot back, trying another code. Another angry beep as the pad flashed red. “Ugh, she changes them way too often.” He grumbled, moving to try another one.

Probably because someone’s just a little too clever. Three suggested, trying to squirm out of Dion’s grip. Four ignored his comment in favor of focusing on the keypad.

“Uh uh.” Dion adjusted his hold on Three. “You’re not going anywhere until we’re out of this mess.”

Three crossed him arms. He really wished it was Frazie who had followed him. How did Dion even find him?

“How did you even find me? You were out on the floor when I left.” Three poked Dion’s side.

“You’re the one who practically showed me where you were going.” Dion muttered, like it was somehow Three’s fault that he’d shown up to mess everything up.

Which… maybe it was, now that Three thought about it. He hadn’t even touched Dion when he’d sent him flying—if it was a burst of unfocused psychic power, then it probably ended up pushing Three’s thoughts into Dion’s head. Whoops.

Four hissed at another failed attempt. Dion tapped his foot against the floor impatiently. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Three gasped. “Ms. Naumann!”

“Okay, time to go!” Dion decided, pulling away from the door.

“Wh—no!” Four shouted. “Six is in there!”

“We’re not leaving him behind!” Three added, “Him or Raz!”

Dion froze. “What—”

The world tilted, and Three fell to the floor. He had only a moment to catch his breath before a telekinetic grasp grabbed ahold of him, too, lifting him up into the air to join a struggling Dion and Four.

“That’s enough of that.” Ms. Naumann declared, already turning on her heel. The hands followed after her, dragging the three of them along through the air.

“Well.” Four muttered, “shit.”

+=+=+=+=+

Well, shit. Gisu scooted further into the shadows. She and Dion had only found Raz—though apparently he was going by Three?—by chance, and then Dion had fallen down into the room the moment he spotted his brother. Who was greeting a second Raz.

And now this lady had showed up, and Dion had grabbed both Razzes and ran. Gisu had no idea how far he’d get, but she didn’t want to get caught, either.

Something that the Not-Razzes had mentioned caught in her mind, and she regarded the door carefully. Six and Raz? Did that mean that there were more Pooters here?

Well, it was as good a lead as any. Gisu levitated down to the floor, and poked her head out the still-open door.

The hallway was empty. Probably.

Carefully, Gisu crept out, holding her board tight against her side. If she concentrated, she could faintly feel Dion’s mind a ways away, frustration ebbing in and out of his mental signal. She wasn’t good enough with telepathy to hold a full conversation with him, though—she was too used to the person on the other end being psychic. Adam could probably hold a connection with seven people all on his own, and Morris was also pretty good at long-range communication—

But Adam and Morris weren’t here. Just Gisu and Dion.

Gisu huffed, casting her mind out further. She didn’t want to alert the scientist lady to her presence, but there had to be something she could use—

Aha! Her mind caught on something. On another mind—

…which reached back. Who are you? They demanded, their presence like waves crashing against Gisu’s mind.

Trying to help. Gisu responded, raising a hand to her temple to track down the other mind.

Like you could help me, the voice scoffed. Okay, rude. You just want Raz, anyway.

Yeah, that was what Gisu was confused about. Why are there so many of you?

The other end was quiet, for a moment, then—there used to be one more. But he’s gone now. A deep sense of melancholy washed over Gisu like waves washing over the sand. For a moment, she almost felt like sand, slowly being pulled into the depths of the anguish bit by bit.

Gisu shook her head to snap herself out of it. I’m sorry. She responded, that sucks.

Tell me something I don’t know. The other mind snarked. But really, why are you here?

Gisu concentrated on everything that had happened in the past several days. The birthday, the breakdown, Not-Raz running off, her and Dion’s chase to reach the mountain before him… as far as explanations went, it was probably really cluttered, a mix of feelings and memories and desires all packaged up into a bundle, with a lot of the needed context missing. But it was what Gisu had to work with.

… The other end was silent for a moment. Then—

A schematic—no, a layout appeared in Gisu’s mind, with a path highlighted in bright blue. Go here, it seemed to say, without saying anything at all.

Gisu followed the path, keeping an eye out for any wandering scientists. How she managed to get around without getting caught, she had no idea—

But she was doing it, which was good. She could worry about the potential implications of being able to seemingly run rampant later.

She came up on a metal door with a keypad to the side. It was flashing, the tiny screen above it saying something about failed attempts. But Gisu only grinned and pulled out her mini-screwdrivers—time to get to work. Pry off the cover, then the pad itself to get at the wires… snip those two wires and join them together…

The door slid open a few moments later. “Ha!” Gisu put away her tools, “Am I good, or am I good?” That was easy. Almost too easy, but Gisu was too busy riding the high of her success to care.

The room she stepped into was larger than the first one, with a small swingset installed at the other end. Mats covered the floor, there was a balance beam—

And there, sitting next to a slide and curled up under the steps, were two more Razzes, regarding Gisu with mild suspicion.

“Okay, which one of you is Pooter?” Gisu twirled her board in her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

The Raz under the slide pointed at himself. “I’m the original.” He said, his voice scratchy and tired-sounding.

“Six.” The other said, leaning against the red plastic.

“Right.” Gisu nodded. She had no idea what that meant—she could guess, though—but that wasn’t important. What was important was getting Dion and the other two and getting out of here. She slapped her palms together. “Time for us to blow this joint!” She declared.

“You mean it?” Raz asked, staring at Gisu with wide eyes. “We’re getting out of here?”

Gisu nodded. “Yeah!” She frowned. “Well, not without Dion,” She amended, “Or the other two.”

Raz blinked. “Dion’s here?” He stood up. “He’s not—he’s not still mad at me for running away, right? I can kind of see what the other mes see, but…” He trailed off, staring at the floor.

“He asked me to help troubleshoot his apology.” Gisu said flatly. “And I’m still missing a lot of the context here, by the way.”

“Oh.” Raz’ mouth worked, for a moment, as he looked for the words. “I ran away,” he started, “And I made it to Whispering Rock…” He contemplated, for a moment, before skipping ahead, “The other me and me swapped places at the Rhombus of Ruin.” He said.

“Oh.” Gisu clutched her board a little tighter. That was—oh. Suddenly, the exhaustion smeared under his eyes looked even more sad and pathetic, like a wet kitten alone in a box after all of the other kittens had been taken. Oh, this poor kid.

These poor kids, Gisu realized, looking at Six. She had heard Not-Raz respond to Three, and he’d called the other Four…

She had never heard anything about a One, Two, or Five.

“Well, this is your lucky day,” she decided, “Because you’re getting out of here. All of you.” Raz perked up at her statement. Good.

“It’s too late.” Six stated. “Three and Four got caught. They’re probably already on their way to being terminated.” He scoffed. “I’ll probably be next.”

Gisu swallowed. That… didn’t sound good. “We’ve still got to do something,” She urged.

Raz nodded, turning to Six. “Don’t you want to see the ocean?” He asked, “Because this might be your one chance.”

Six stared at Raz for a long moment. He scowled. “That’s not fair.” He muttered, standing up to join Gisu and Raz. “You can’t just use my weakness against me.” Still, he was no longer sitting next to the slide, so Gisu counted that as a win.

“C’mon,” She urged. “Let’s go kick that lady’s—”

“Ms. Naumann.” Six interjected.

“Okay.” Gisu started again. “Let’s go kick Ms. Naumann’s butt!”

+=+=+=+=+

Three had never been in this room before. There was a large glass tube—that Three and Four were immediately dumped into—and a control panel that took up most of the space, making the whole place feel cramped. Dion was set down in the only open space on the floor, hands cuffed behind him, and the door wasn’t able to slide shut with him sitting so close to it. He wasn’t conscious—Ms. Naumann had used a burst of mental pressure to knock him out when she drew blood. Three looked away from the bandage in the crook of his arm.

Three had never been in this room before. He could guess at what it was, though. His hands pressed against the glass while his heart threatened to pound right out of his chest—

Twin screams lighting up the shared headspace, hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt HURT—

“Please.” Three tried. Four leaned against him, his weight and his mind a steadying presence, but he may as well have been trying to steady a wobbling tower of cards on a rocking boat in the middle of a storm.

Okay, so that metaphor was wordy. Three was allowed to be wordy, he felt, when there was death looming over him.

“I can see this project isn’t working out.” Ms. Naumann muttered. “Perhaps I’ll have to put it on pause�� or maybe taking up a second project will give me some much-needed variety.” She regarded Three and Four for a long moment, her cool gaze betraying not even a hint of the anger that Three could feel leaching off of her.

“You did well.” She said, reaching for the panel. “But I see you’ve been let loose for too long.” Her words sounded too practiced to be sincere, even though she would have only had to say anything. “I will make this as painless as possi—”

“Hey.”

As one, Three, Four, and Ms. Naumann turned their attention to the open doorway, where Dion was still unconscious to the side. Standing next to him was none other than Six, regarding Ms. Naumann with a blank expression.

Ms. Naumann returned to the control panel. “Return to the playroom, Subject Six.” She ordered. “This isn’t a place for clones.”

“No.” Six said, staring her down.

Ms. Naumann paused, turning to look at Six directly. “No?”

“No.” Six repeated, raising his hands.

Ms. Naumann’s voice cut off with a gasp as she fell to the floor, her whole body trembling. Six’ brow furrowed as he stepped forwards, his hands outstretched. “You’re an awful mother.” He declared. “And we don’t like you!” He swept his arms to the side, and Ms. Naumann slammed against the wall with a wheeze. Six’ arms dropped. Ms. Naumann fell to the floor.

“Dion!” And then Raz was in the room, standing next to Dion and fussing—

“Let’s get you out of there.” And there was Gisu, since when was Gisu here, staring at the control panel for a moment before slamming her fist down on one of the buttons.

Three flinched—

The tube opened up. Oh. Oh, thank god.

Three and Four wasted no time in making their way out of there, standing next to Gisu. The room was getting really crowded, now, there was barely any room for anyone to move around—

“You.” Ms. Naumann was already pushing herself up. “You insolen—”

A pair of shiny metal handcuffs thwacked off of her head, clattering to the floor. Three turned back to see Dion standing, muttering curses under his breath as he rubbed at the base of his thumb. “And stay down.” He added.

Ms. Naumann did not stay down. She hissed, and before Gisu or Six could do anything to stop her, she spoke. “Initiate System Shutdown, voice code 4-18-4-25-4.”

Alarms started blaring. Ms. Naumann disappeared with a pop, leaving them all crowded in that tiny room.

“Time to get out of here!” Gisu declared. Raz launched himself at Dion, who scooped up Four and Three in his arms once again. Gisu threw down her board, grabbed Six, and hopped on—Dion hopped on next. “Which way?”

“Down that hall, then take a right!” Four instructed, as Gisu’s levboard rocketed off down the halls. “Now left!” Three had to grab Dion’s vest to avoid falling off as Gisu turned—this was so much worse than when Dion had been running. But with the countdown blaring over their heads, Three didn’t have it in himself to say anything.

“And out that door!” Four pointed. But the door was closed!

Gisu raised her hand and pointed with two fingers. Lightning blasted out down the hall, hitting the door just moments before her levboard got there—

Her board flew out into open air, leaving the smoke from the blasted door behind them. The hidden lab rumbled, the whole mountain seeming to shake—

The whole world spun, Three tumbling right out of Dion’s grip as the board was flung forwards. He tumbled through the air and into the undergrowth, rolling across the ground before coming to a stop.

The sky was a brilliant shade of orange above him. Morning already?

Fuck, he was exhausted. The world was still spinning, a bit, and he could hear everyone shouting or groaning as they picked themselves up. Four was okay, though, and Raz was out—that was all that mattered.

With a tired groan, Three let his eyes slip closed.

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