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#also gunfights! and automatons
iffeelscouldkill · 3 years
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The Strange Case of the Iris Express
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[ID: A picture of a tan train car door with the text "The Strange Case of the" in the window, "Iris Express" on a white band of metal below the window, and "enchantedsleeper" on a plate of metal in the center of the image. All of the text is in all caps, dark brown serif, except for "enchantedsleeper," which is edited to look like it is embossed onto the metal plate. The door is very dirty. /end ID]
Summary: Violet Liu, a scientist working for industrial corporation Republico, is travelling on a brand new steam train called the Iris Express when she finds herself sharing a carriage with Kay Grisham - a young woman who says she grew up in the same small town as Violet. But as things start to go wrong with the train, Violet realises that the journey, and Kay, might not be what they had seemed.
Length: 11,583 words
Relationships: Violet Liu/Arkady Patel, Alvy Connors & Brian Jeeter
Read it on AO3!
A/N: Here is my fic for the TSCOSI Season Two Hiatus mini-bang, @tscosi-minibang! I am stoked to have worked with two brilliant artists AGAIN for this fic, @demonic-kitkats (whose fantastic artwork you can check out here) and @caedogeist-rights​​, who has made a podfic! of my fic!! which you can listen to on AO3! Ae also made the wonderful title card you see above 😍
Innumerable thanks are also due to Ehlana, whose tireless beta work made this fic so much better than it would have otherwise been.
Detailed content warnings and the full fic can be found on AO3, but read on for a small taster!
The brand new steam train was state of the art, or so her supervisor at Republico had told her – a fact that did very little to calm Violet’s nerves as she walked along the gleaming length of the Iris Express looking for an empty carriage. Or, failing that, a less-crowded one.
You might think that the presence of other passengers would have been reassuring, but as she took in the idling, hissing locomotive, Violet could feel the edges of a nervous attack tugging at her, threatening to drag her down, and if that happened she’d prefer to have as few people around to witness it as possible. Especially men making ‘helpful’ comments about female hysteria.
Finally, she drew level with the last carriage – the farthest away from the engine – and was relieved to find it mostly empty, with only a group of elderly women seated in a corner, talking quietly. Taking a last deep breath of dusty air, Violet boarded the Iris Express, gathering up her skirts so that they wouldn’t catch in the doorway. She made her way to the far corner and sat down, placing the leather case the company had entrusted to her on the seat beside her.
They had ten minutes until the train was due to depart. With any luck, no-one else would be getting into the carriage before then. Violet turned her head to look out of the window and tried not to think about the upcoming departure.
Get a grip on yourself, Violet, she thought sternly. Dozens of people have travelled by steam train without any problems. The corporation’s top engineers designed this and certified its safety. What are you afraid is going to happen?
“Hi!” a cheerful voice broke into her thoughts, and Violet did not almost jump out of her skin. She looked up to see a woman of around her age beaming down at her. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb your thoughts – I just wondered if you’d mind some company?”
Violet stared inarticulately at her for a few moments, thrown (and wondering what was wrong with the numerous other empty seats in the carriage), before her manners kicked in. “No – no, please have a seat.”
The woman’s face relaxed into a smaller, almost relieved smile as she sat down across from Violet. She had kind eyes, Violet thought. She was tall, her skin a few shades darker than Violet’s, her dark hair braided and wound into a knot at the back of her head.
“Kay Grisham,” the woman introduced herself.
“Violet Liu,” Violet said.
“So, what brings you aboard the Iris Express, Violet?” asked Kay.
Violet was about to reply when a loud whistle from outside made her jump again and clutch at her seat. The train was getting ready to depart.
“First time on a steam train?” Kay asked knowingly as the train began to slowly move away from the station, thick clouds of smoke obscuring the view outside the window.
“Is it that obvious?” Violet asked, aiming for self-deprecating humour. Her voice only shook slightly, and Kay was gracious enough not to comment on it.
“I know the feeling,” she said. The train was now picking up speed, the whole carriage rattling as it moved over uneven joins in the track, and Violet focused on taking deep, even breaths. Hearing Kay’s voice actually helped – there was something calming about it. Maybe having company wasn’t so bad after all. “I doubt a steam train would come within ten miles of the town where I grew up – it was tiny. More of a village, really.”
Violet smiled. “I was born somewhere like that,” she said. “You either knew everyone else who lived there, or you knew someone who knew them. It was… a little confining, but cosy at the same time. Not a bad place to grow up.”
Kay laughed. “That sounds like Harmony Creek,” she said, and Violet froze.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “Have you been there?”
Kay frowned slightly. “Harmony Creek? Yeah, that’s – where I grew up. Well, nearby anyway. My father had a general store on the outskirts of town, Grisham’s.”
“But… I grew up in Harmony Creek,” Violet said slowly. “We’re from the same town?” Her head was reeling slightly at the incredible coincidence – that hundreds of miles from her former home, she could have met someone who grew up in the same small, insular community. And yet – she couldn’t remember ever hearing about the Grisham family, or a general store on the edge of town. Could she? She racked her brains.
A broad grin was spreading across Kay’s face. “I thought your name was familiar!” she exclaimed. “Violet Liu – do you have a younger sister? Juniper?”
Violet’s eyes widened. “That’s right – we’re several years apart in age. Six years to be precise.”
Kay nodded like this had confirmed what she’d expected. “I have younger siblings, too – I think my brother and your sister used to play together. Jack Grisham?”
“Jack…” Violet tried to remember the names of any of Juniper’s playmates, but couldn’t. She’d been at the age where she was far too self-interested to pay attention to what her little sister had been doing, except when Juniper tried to play with any of her toys. “Sorry,” she said, embarrassed. “Clearly my memory is worse than I thought. You must think I’m so rude, not remembering you or your family.”
“No, no,” Kay rushed to reassure her. “It was more than a decade ago – it would be ridiculous to expect you to remember. My family did keep to ourselves – we weren’t heavily involved in town life, aside from the store.”
She paused, and then said with a bashful hesitancy, “I did see you around town once or twice and – think that I might like to talk to you. Ask you for a drink, even. But I never had the courage. Maybe if I had, I’d have been more memorable.”
Violet stared at her, aware that she was blushing fiercely. “W-well – it’s never too late,” she said. “Maybe after we get to the end of this hellish journey, we could… get a drink together.”
Kay looked surprised, and then favoured her with another delighted smile. “I’d like that,” she said. “Is it still a “hellish” journey, then?”
“I—” Violet stopped, and realised that it had been several minutes since she’d even thought about the fact that she was on a train – and the anxiousness that had been pressing against the back of her throat had faded significantly. “I’ve realised there are… some definite upsides to it.”
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Broken memories
Summary: Just some angsty/fluffy thing based on a few headcanons I have about Mr. Brass and his background story. (Also with the AU where the SCP only rescued him and kept him safe for a while before allowing him to live with his siblings)
The Automaton followed a hooded man he met just a few hours ago. He didn’t know what reason this man and his so-called “church” has to offer him safety, or what is this church anyway. The rain poured heavily on the two of them, soaking their clothes and bodies, yet neither of the two seemed to care.
When the two of them walked into a giant building, they were greeted by other people wearing the same hoods, calling Mr. Brass “their savior” and prying to him. 
“You are a part of our god.” one hooded woman told him, as she handed a towel to the confused robot. “We’ve been waiting for so long!”
As the rest of the hooded people cheered for him, trying to explain the situation to Mr. Brass (who didn’t understand a thing but decided to play along), the hooded guy who brought him there gave him a soft smile, giving the Automaton a feeling of safety, of hope, of home.
After the man mannaged to convince the excited crowd to give Mr. Brass some space, he decided to give him a tour of the church. He showed him the altar, the showers, the offices... the rooms themselves were boring, but the two of them enjoyed talking with each other. Mr. Brass even got to know him better.
The man’s name is Scott Travis, he’s the church’s message man. He told Brass he joined the church because they saved his life and he feels like he owns the “broken god” his life. Apparently, Scott’s relationship with his parents wasn’t great, and they kicked him out of the house when he was only 16 years old, and the church found him two years later, almost freezing to death. He has been there for the past 14 years and worked as a message man for the past 12. 
“And now, the big finale!” Scott said, leading Mr. Brass down a big hallway and opened the big door at the end of it. 
On the other side of the door lied a huge room, almost at the size of a living room and the height of a three-leveled building. The walls were painted in  Prussian blue, and the entire floor was covered by a dark shade of crimson red carpet. The first floor of the room contained some big bookcases, a big containment filed with metallic parts that were perfect for Mr. Brass’s “transformation” ritual, a sitting area with the softest chairs he ever sat on, and a big mirror. The wooden stairs to the upper floor of the room were clean and shiny, without a single hint of the existence dust there. The upper floor was covered with a softer teal carpet and had a big window to the fields near the church. It had a large bed with beautiful and warm mattresses, and next to it was a wooden desk and a chair.
“Welcome to your bedroom,” Scott said, smiling at the surprised robot, who scanned the room in disbelief.
“That’s... That’s my bedroom?” Mr. Brassed asked, trying to process this. “That’s... wow... That’s too big for a bedroom.”
“Hey, we want any part of our god to be happy and safe.” Scott said. “The parts in the containment are being stocked every week, and the window is unbreakable to avoid any danger. And if you need anything, my room is two rooms away from here.”
“You guys are the best.” Mr. Brass said.
“Oh, we know it.” Scott laughed as he turned around and walked to the door.
“Wait!” Mr. Brass said, causing Scott to stop and look at him.
“Thank you.” Mr. Brass said. “For everything.”
Scott gave him a soft smile as he walked over and hugged him.
After he released the robot from the hug, he turned back and left the room.
Mr. Brass looked at him as he walked away, smiling at the thought that he finally met people he can trust.
Okay, he can’t trust these guys anymore.
Sure, it WAS nice for a while. They gave him anything he needed, and Scott was awesome. They have warm food, he wasn’t homeless, nobody called him a freak... But when he said he wants to move on, they changed.
They locked him in his room, yelled and cursed at him, ignored his cries for help and begs for freedom. It’s been like this for a few months. A few long months.
One day, he was happy to see Scott opening the door to his room, telling him to come with him. He hugged Scott tightly, glad to see his friend, but Scott...didn’t hug back. He followed Scott down the awfully quiet hallways, asking him questions, hoping that the church is finally letting him go.
“Where are we going?” Mr. Brass asked. No answer.
“Are you guys letting me go?” Mr. Brass asked. No answer.
“Scott?” Mr. Brass said as he decided to stop walking, worried about his friend.
It took Scott a few seconds before he grabbed the Automaton aggressively by the arm and began to drag him to the altar, not even looking into his eyes. When they finally got there, Scott pushed him towards the high priest of the church and stepped aside.
“What’s happening?” Mr. Brass asked, confused and scared. “What do you guys want from me? Why can’t you just let me leave?”
Before he could ask the next question, the high priest pushed the poor robot to the floor, as he and a few other church members began to hit him and jam stuff to him. The rest of the church members watched. Most of them cheered them on, some repeated the robot’s cries for help in a mocking tone, but Scott? Scott looked away.
‘This is how I’m going to die, huh?’ Mr. Brass thought to himself.
After three or four painful minutes, the altar’s doors were slammed open, and a bunch of armed soldiers with the word “SCP” on their uniforms entered the room, and the chaos began.  People screaming and escaping the room, soldiers and church members shooting at each other, and all Mr. Brass could do was just to crawl quickly underneath one of the benches and hope for the best.
As he crawled away, one of the soldiers reached over to him. Mr. Brass thought he was about to shoot him, so he protected his face with his arms, but was surprised when he realized the soldier was just offering him assistance in getting up. The robot hesitantly grabbed the soldier’s hand, and the two of them ran outside of the building, into the wheat fields. 
That was when he felt someone else pulling him from the other side. When he looked, he saw Scott, with anger and sadness in his eyes and blood coming from a scratch on his left cheek. 
“You, can’t leave, Brass!” Scott yelled, pulling him violently from the soldier’s hand. “You’d be nothing without us! Nothing! You were just a freak when I found you!”
before Mr. Brass could response, a bullet suddenly hit Scott’s forehead, creating a big bleeding hole and coming out from the back of his head. The man was dead before he hit the floor. Mr. Brass saw the soldier holding the gun, looking at him with a worried face.
“Are you okay?” the soldier asked.
“I...I don’t know.” Mr. Brass said, looking at the dead body of the man he once called a friend. 
The soldier put his hand on Brass’s shoulder, looking into his eyes.
“Come on.” the soldier said. “The rescue helicopter is close.”
“How can I trust you?” the robot asked.
“I just shot a guy who almost ripped off your arm.” the soldier said.
“That’s...a good point, I guess.” Mr. Brass said.
The two of them reached the helicopter and waited for the others. There was a long silence between the two of them until the soldier took off his helmet.
“Edward.” the soldier said.
“Huh?” 
“My name is Edward.” the soldier said, giving Mr. Brass a friendly smile.
“I’m...” Mr. Brass said.
“We know who you are, Mr. Brass,” Edward said. “We were sent to rescue you, after all.”
He moved from his seat and sat next to Mr. Brass, looking at the damage the church caused him. Scanned every single injury.
“We were almost late, huh?” Edward said, still looking at each scar that was left by these bastards. “No wonder their god is broken. They might’ve done this to him.”
The two of them let out a giggle at that joke. 
“When we’d get to the base we’d fix some of that.” Edward said. “You might have to stay in the base for a while until we’d stop that church.”
“For how long?” Mr. Brass asked.
“Probably a year or two,” Edward said. “But we’re close.”
“These guys are a nightmare.” Mr. Brass said.
“Well, let’s just hope our people would get out of there before they activate the bomb.” Edward said. “This nightmare of yours is going down today.”
After the rest of the soldiers arrived (except for three of them who probably died during the gunfight) and the helicopter began to fly, they all looked through their window as one of the soldiers began to count down from ten. As he reached “zero”, they all saw the church explodes and goes down in flames. Mr. Brass didn’t feel sorry for these people.
“Good riddance.” he said, still shivering.
Edward, who seemed to notice the shivers, took off his uniform’s jacket and wrapped it around the Automaton like a blanket. 
He didn’t want to return it.
Mr. Brass woke up. It was the middle of the night, and he dreamt about those memories again. He looked at the robot lying next to him, who seemed to have a good night sleep.
He looked at the big jacket that was hanging on the chair. It was a black jacket with the SCP foundation’s symbol painted in white on the left side of the chest. He grabbed the jacket, hugged it and put it on him.
The sleeves were longer than his arms, and there was a little cut at the back.
He stood at the balcony, leaning against the fence and looking up at the stars, grabbing the sleeves tightly from inside. 
If robots could cry, he would’ve. He had been through a lot. His beloved Edward was long gone, and he mannaged to move on... but the memories still haunt him.
“Brass?” he heard a tired robotic voice behind him. When he turned around, he was surprised to see his boyfriend, Jeffrey, coming next to him.
“Did I wake you up?” Brass asked as he put a kiss on his lover’s forehead.
“No. I was about to go downstairs to grab a midnight snack.”Jeffrey yawned. “You had those memories again, didn’t you?” 
Mr. Brass nodded.
“It’s been almost 15 years now.” he said. “He’s been gone for exactly 15 years.”
Jeffrey held his hand softly.
“You never told me how he...you know.” Jeffrey said.
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Brass said. “I mean, usually when someone talks about their ex around their partner is kinda awkward.”
“Not when I’m the partner. You can tell me anything.” Jeffrey said, giving a soft smile. 
“Fine. I guess I can tell you.” Brass kissed his forehead again and sighed.
“Around three months after Edward and I met, we’ve started dating. He was the type of guy who would literally take a bullet for you.” Mr. Brass said. “We’ve been on a couple missions together since I wanted to help them take down the church of the broken god. The number of times he got injured just so I won’t was insane. Yet he survived most of them.”
He let out a sad giggle before he continued.
“After two years, we’ve finally managed to end these fucked up cult.” he continued. “But.. he didn’t make it out alive to see me feeling freedom for the first time.”
“What happened?” Jeffrey asked.
“Apparently these guys set up a time bomb, and on the way out lots of church members were chasing after us.” Mr. Brass continued. “Two people had to secure the rest to the exit, but the two wouldn’t have enough time to leave.”
Jeffrey remained silent, holding his beloved’s hand even tighter.
“When Edward volunteered I asked him to let me join him, and he refused.” Mr. Brass continued, looking at the night sky. “He also refused when I begged him to at least leave with us. “
He shivered a bit.
“I remember how he kissed me for a few seconds before ordering fellow soldiers to get me out. I remember the tears in his eyes when the soldiers got me out of there.” Mr. Brass said. “I remember how I found his burnt, torn body after the explosion.”
“Brass, I’m so sorry.” Jeffrey said, looking into his boyfriend’s eyes. 
“That’s okay.” Brass said. “It...it actually feels good to talk about it. And he probably did it for the best. He was smart, after all.”
“Of course he was smart!” Jeffrey said. “He knew how cute you’d look in his jacket.”
Giggling, he picked up Jeffrey and kissed him on his lips.
“Just so you’d know,” Jeffrey said. “I have no problem listening to your broken memories. No matter how hard they are, I’m here.”
“thank you.” Mr. Brass said. 
“Now how about we try to steal some of Mr. Hungry’s secret snacks stash and binge some anime?” Jeffrey asked him. 
“If he asks, it was Sweety.” Mr. Brass answered as the two of them went downstairs.
No matter how heartbreaking his broken memories were, Mr. Brass knew there are people who care. And god, did he care about this man too.
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