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nothisis-ridiculous · 2 years

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Duplicity

An AU where Kaidan joins Cerberus for the events of ME2.

Chapter Eleven: Troubles

"Commander Shepard, Miranda would like to speak with you."

Mary stopped in her tracks, reeling for a long moment in her mind. She was ready to bother Joker for a bit, converse about something light-hearted. She knew she was nearing the time to spring the next trap laid out for her; dawdling even now was starting to grate on a few members of the crew. Was this what Miranda wanted to talk about? She had given little indication of severe impatience, but it was about time Shepard went for the last piece necessary to traverse the Omega-4 relay.

Mary had no problems speaking to Miranda; just the subject was unlikely to be as pleasant as Shepard required at this moment-- matters far away from the events on Aeia and the Hugo Gernsback.

"Tell her I'll be right there."

Stifling a heavy sigh, Shepard retreated back into the elevator. This time the ride was far too short, and nobody pulled her from the route to Miranda's office.

Miranda was waiting, granted with her back to the door but waiting for her arrival. Her head turned, the expression that met her was a strained neutral. Mary's arms folded, and she sucked in her cheeks, "what's up, Miranda?"

"Shepard, I'm sorry."

"Miri?"

The force that brushed past Mary was not gentle, spinning her aside as the typhoon of a man swapped places with Miranda. Miranda blocked her door, still unable to look Mary in the eyes.

"Leng," Mary stated dully.

Kai Leng started without acknowledging her greeting, "you must know why you are here."

"My shining personality."

His dark eyes narrowed, "I don't have time for your immature games."

"Well, I do."

"I noticed, time the Collectors are using to abduct more colonists," Leng murmured with a hint of amusement.

Mary drew in a tight breath, bracing her shoulders until the anger washed into a controllable buzz. Reminding herself that charging into suicidal odds with an unprepared team wouldn't change the outcome. Hell, the Collectors could go unimposed if they fucked up badly enough. Then the galaxy would fall to the Reapers, she delayed to make sure her team was ready.

To make sure they succeeded.

"Well, if time is a-wastin', you should tell me why you dragged me in here," Mary replied with a grin, trying her best to appear undaunted.

Leng sighed deeply, mirroring Shepard's folded arms, "we want to know why your team's tech keeps going offline."

"Everyone knows I'm shit at that stuff."

The man lunged forward, plunging his pointed fingers into her sternum, "stop waiving this aside! You're up to something."

"Geez," Mary rolled her eyes, "I know you guys don't like it, but perhaps other people value having privacy."

The Shadow Broker's Ship, Anderson's Office, and now the Migrant Fleet her and her companion's tech had gone dark. Shepard knew she had pushed the envelope on the Fleet, but it felt wrong to give Cerberus any fraction of the layout of a Quarian vessel. Not when Cerberus had already made the first strike against them.

She decided to fill the void of silence, "I don't know what you're so worried about."

Leng snarled, turning his back to the Commander, "this is precisely why things will be changing."

"Miranda," Mary pleaded.

Miranda shook her head, gaze averted, "Kai Leng will be joining you from here on out."

"The fuck he will."

"You don't have a choice," the man growled.

"The Illusive Man-"

A hologram flickering to life interrupted her plight, the man holding a cigarette between his fingers. TIM took a long drag, his unnatural eyes staring down at her.

"I'm sorry that it has come to this Commander; it is in our best interests to assure that you are not compromised," the corner of his mouth flickered upward, "hopefully we can understand this... precaution. Need I remind you that humanity is at stake."

"So I have to carry some tart that insists on wielding a stick?"

The Illusive man fought a grin, "you'll find he is my best agent."

"With all due respect," Mary smiled despite herself, Ash would be proud of her, "I disagree."

"This isn't up for debate, Shepard."

"He's a liability to my team. He's proven to be unable to work with the people I have recruited."

TIM held his eyes shut, taking another long and slow drag, "I don't believe Ms. Lawson has a reason to feel uncomfortable with Mr. Leng. I suggest you bring her along if you are so worried."

Mary glowered, jaw clenched tight.

"Or I can relocate some crew members. Massani is rarely put to use- I have other assignments where he could excel. Same with Alenko, as I understand the two of you rarely see eye to eye," he paused, "unless that has changed?"

"It's on you if this goes ass up."

The hologram bit out a chuckle, "I don't believe that will be the case."

The projection flickered away, leaving a snide grin across Leng's face in the wake.

An angry hive of knots curled in Mary's stomach, it mixed with the tiredness set in her bones. She was exhausted, sick of fighting, sick of living under constant reminders that she worked for Cerberus. She would have preferred to die with the original Normandy. Instead, she was forced back to life after her friend turned her over to the monsters that had massacred her unit on Akuze. To the people who performed terrible experiments, Mary was tired of justifying her actions to herself. She was trying to do good, but the frosting was rotten.

Mary wanted to sleep without waking up to the nightmare.

She dove for Kai Leng, but the man had quicker reflexes, landing from his flip amid Miranda's desk. Shepard wasn't daunted charging foolishly after him, all blind rage and tangled emotions. Before she could reach him, Leng was gone the pressure of something sharp pressed into her spine. Mary spun, blue energy mixing with the red splatter of blood as the blade splintered as she crushed it with her energy-coated fist. Leng drew his broken blade back wildy brandishing the blade across her cheek. The metal veered upward, drawing an ugly line that pierced through a chunk of ear and tore through the flesh of her scalp. The usually platinum blonde hair fell to the ground in tresses of red.

The Commander collided with the concave wall of dark energy, railing against it until the haze subsided.

Miranda still avoided her gaze, voice gentle, "are we done now, Shepard?"

Mary nodded; minutes... seconds later, she was not sure.

"Cerberus bitch," the Commander hissed as she slipped from the room.

~~~ ~~~

"Fucking hell, Shepard!" Jack trilled when she decided to look up at the figure who darkened her view.

Mary gingerly caressed the stitches that trended upwards on her cheek, passing over the bandaged ear lest she manage to lose it. It was a silly thing to fret over when it could have been her head. Sillier was her panic over her rough shorn hair, which would grow back on its own terms. Now that she was in Jack's hidey-hole, she guffawed at the absurdity behind it all. Now her silver tongue decided to cease working.

"Booze, for haircut?"

"Shit, Shep, you should be the one drinking."

Shepard shrugged, proffering the bottle. Jack wasn't one to refuse, swiping it away before the Commander decided to rescind the offer.

"I don't do girl scout haircuts."

"Wasn't looking for one," Mary let out an uneasy smile, "I would do it myself...but."

The hand she held out shook, not that the shaking was the primary problem; it was the bandages that prevented her hand from bending.

"You do have other people to do this for you," Jack warned, taking her first swig.

Mary looked away from her, "I know. But I need to be around someone that hates Cerberus almost as much as I do."

"Just almost?"

Mary nodded, "I got the message, though."

"Don't pull that mopey shit on me," Jack hissed, "no guarantee you'll keep your ears, but what do you want? The cult cut?"

Shepard pulled the uninjured hand through the mass of untouched hair, "leave the middle, buzz the rest."

"Your funeral," Jack mused.

Jack pushed the bottle into Shepard's hand, ushering her to a crate that would serve as a barber's stool. Mary took a hearty sip, watching with passive interest as Jack pulled an electric razor from below her cot. Allowing Shepard to take another shot, Jack tenderly started on her project. They both enjoyed the silence; there was no need to speak. The person behind her need for a haircut was obvious, the situation a little more nuanced but unnecessary to expound on just yet. Between Jack's adjustments, she took quiet sips. Trying her best not to flinch when the razor got close to the stitches.

Finally, Jack stepped back with a cock of her head, "not too bad, Shep."

"I really hope it accentuates the scar," Mary mumbled, reluctantly handing over the bottle. At least she felt a little warm.

"Trying to take up that Krogan breeding request?"

"Heh," Mary rolled her eyes, "could use a nice fuck."

"If you smiled real pretty, I'm sure someone on this ship would take you up on that," Jack took a drink.

Shepard added a headshake to her eye roll, "yeah, let's complicate this more."

"We could leave them behind too."

Mary didn't answer, but took the bottle long enough to down another mouthful. Both grew quiet as someone moved about them. The metal creaked beneath the weight of the person ambling down the stairs.

"Jack, Mary?" the figure paused, looking over them curiously, "that bosh'tet!"

Tali skipped forwards, the three extended fingers tilting Mary's face from side to side as she examined the damage, "at least you got it stitched up."

"Tali! You don't seem surprised."

"I'm not," Tali replied, a little crossly.

"Small ship, Shep."

"Same with the missions, too; they stuck sword boy on me."

"Fuck," the two of them spoke in unison.

Mary and Jack passed the bottle between themselves for a while, and Tali sat with them in the silence. Shepard wasn't pacing herself, she was hardly in a state to go on a mission. The hand would take a while to recover. Why not drink? Time wasn't helping to dull her to the effects of working with Cerberus; neither was the booze... if she was being honest. In the old days, she drank with her crew in the open, not in some cramped hole in the ass end of the ship. There was laughter, jeering; all this gave her was silence. The Normandy that was once a home was now a cell.

Fuck, a cascade of bitterness swept through her body. Were her last days to be spent in misery?

She knew then it was time to stop drinking.

Mary pushed from the crate, the sudden vertigo leading her to brace against a support column until her body decided to heed her directions again. She looked at the stairs and back to Tali.

"Tali- would you mind," Shepard motioned up the stairs.

The Quarian was already on her way to help, just as Mary expected. She really wasn't that far gone but wanted the excuse to lean against someone for a while. Even if her pride would take over by the time they rounded the top of the flight.

Mary turned to look at Jack, her eyes trailing to the drained bottle, "make sure to clean up that bottle," her eyes narrowed, focusing on the upturned lip of the label.

"Yes, mom," Jack retorted, toying with the label.

As expected, Mary waved Tali away at the top of the stairs, it was an easy jaunt, she could handle an elevator ride.

And the glass of water to stave off a threatening headache. Perhaps some medicine too, for the morning when her hand and stitches would ache.

Mary padded across the empty mess hall and into the person-wide space between the counter and kitchenette. She never understood how they got away with so small a space to prepare meals with dextro's aboard.

"Mary," the husky voice was laden with concern.

Shepard jerked away, abruptly pulled from the haze thoughts and drunken stupor. Her weakened hand released the glass she held, bouncing on her toes before it met the floor.

"Fuc-" she retreated, noting his red-rimmed eyes, "everything okay?"

His amber eyes narrowed, looking over her speculatively. Kaidan's mind ran over the thousand ways he could approach this: did he wrestle out the story behind her injuries, compliment the new haircut, or proceed with his problem?

"Are you hurt?"

"I'll get better," Mary returned demurely, avoiding his attempt to touch her again.

"Shepard," he hummed softly, turning his gaze down, "my parents are missing."

Mary froze, fretting the drawn-out moments it took to stubbornly force herself to cover the distance between them. She caressed his shoulder, not fighting his full embrace as he dove straight into her arms. It would be so easy to stay like this.

"I can't, I can't help you."

#duplicity #fshenko #shenko #kaidan alenko #mass effect fanfiction

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lycanthrop-ee · 3 years

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Ghosting - Empty House

A/N: !!!!! It’s here! I’m so, so pumped for this- welcome to the Empty House AU! This is the first piece of content I’m publishing and it’s a one-shot from a bigger universe, but it’s also absolutely a stand-alone fic. It’s a self-indulgent, analogical-centric human AU that’s has been floating around my hollow skull for months now, so there’s a lot of doodles backed up if any of yall would like to see that ;) There will be an AU taglist, but I also have an individual writing taglist!

Synopsis: Logan has finally moved out of his childhood home into a family-sized house where he plans to finish college online. His simple plans are complicated when a strange, sad-looking boy starts showing up outside...

Word count: 4,306

Ships: Endgame romantic Analogical

CW: (spoilers) Pre-plot major character death, swearing, anxiety attack, very mildly implied previous parental abuse, be safe kiddos and ask to tag!

The first time Logan saw the boy was the day he moved in.

The empty house had stood hollowly beside its driveway, Logan feeling small without his siblings or parents or any of his rarely acquired friends by his side. He wasn’t a sociable person, but he’d always been surrounded by noise at home, and lots of it… he’d never been in a house as still as the one he stepped into that day. The dark wooden floors were cleanly swept, except for the corners and trimmings which had little fields of grey dust dotting the deep brown. The refrigerator made a hungry humming noise, protesting its suddenly empty shelves- Logan knew a family of four had lived there before, and that they’d given him a pretty hefty discount on the house. That’s all he knew.

The floor in the entrance hall creaked underfoot, and the walls seemed to turn away as they saw him- not who they’d been expecting, not worth their attention. That was fair.

The house had three bedrooms and two floors- altogether a strange layout. Two of the bedrooms were downstairs, situated in a small hallway off the kitchen, and one was tucked into a little corner upstairs, where the only other rooms consisted of a bathroom and a large, carpeted playroom that was mostly empty now. Logan figured it would have been a favorite of the kids when they were smaller, but now the only furniture was a faux leather couch and a television, as well as a couple of out-of-place armchairs that had never gotten much human use from the look of their fur-covered seats.

With just him taking up the whole house, he hardly saw the point in using the upstairs bedroom. The house felt big already- rationally, it would be better to localize downstairs. All he really needed was his room, the kitchen, and the little living room next to the entrance. That was enough for him- in fact, even that was too silent. He missed the screams of his brothers as affectionately as anyone could- which honestly varied day to day.

Today, he was disproportionately affectionate.

It paired well with the fear.

Logan was just about ready to start tearing himself apart over the family members he’d left behind- the only ones that mattered- when the boy caught his eye.

The day had been gray and dreary, the trees heavy with the prospect of rain and the air cool enough to promise it, but it had only started drizzling in the few minutes since Logan had been inside. The sky had seemed to darken remarkably quickly, especially strange without the presence of thunder or even heavy rain, and in the middle of it all was a lanky figure who looked for all the world like a member of the fae.

He stood at the side of the road, looking in the house’s general direction- in Logan’s general direction, although he was sure the other wouldn’t be able to see through his windows. His face would’ve been hidden by the dark hair poking out from under his hood were he not so painfully pale, and his brown irises were visible to Logan only because of the piercing contrast of his skin.

His jacket was oversized, but his beanpole frame managed to show through regardless. The rainwater gradually weighed it down until the boy looked almost a skeleton, Logan frozen watching him for what could have been minutes- and then the frame heaved in a breath and ambled stiffly away.

Obviously Logan’s first worries had to do with an unhinged white male teenager breaking into his new house- the one he had full responsibility for and few precious savings to repair. It was irrational, he knew, but his second thought was that the boy hadn’t looked capable of any harm- or really of much at all. He looked weighed down, depressed, and Logan was sure that it wasn’t just the water soaking his sweatshirt. The boy had looked sad.

And he continued to. Frighteningly often, the teenager appeared outside Logan’s house. Each time he looked quite the same: above average height but considerably shorter than Logan himself, skinny, and almost other-worldly in his strange mish-mash of dark eyes and pearly flesh. While Logan knew that his first sight of the boy had been strange in the sudden change of weather, he could- and completely intended to- count it as a coincidence of Florida’s strange climate.

He settled into a sort of pattern, although the boy didn’t seem to follow one. Each time he saw the figure outside his house, he would take a break from his endless work. He’d make himself some tea, sit in the window, and wait for the boy to leave. This way, he told himself, if he tried anything, Logan would be there to intercept him. He chose not to think about the possibility of it happening at night or while he was away, and he kept far away from the crime shows he’d occasionally enjoyed in the past. This way, too, he could get a good look at his visitor each time. It was almost as though he was keeping tabs on him, and at the tail end of his fear came a strange protectiveness.

It was after about a month of this- Logan looking for job applications and living off of his savings, edgewise- that Logan pulled into his driveway at one of the key moments of his life. The boy stood unsteadily at the side of the road, sweatshirt ever-present even in the heat. Logan got out of his car carefully, his heart in his throat- though, really, did any part of him think the boy capable of much at this point?

He’d have expected the kid to run as soon as he’d pulled in, but when Logan looked him over he saw the boy studying him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It struck Logan anew in their close proximity how thin he was.

Almost thoughtlessly, he started across the lawn towards the boy. He had to remind himself to uphold formalities- no matter how many times they’d stared at each other across the way, they’d never once spoken. He didn’t know this kid, not really- and now it occurred to him that the boy was more than a kid. He couldn’t be much younger than himself. Logan halted a few respectful steps from the boy, who eyed him strangely.

Close up… he looked, somehow, the same as he did from across the lawn. His features were simple, small mouth and nose easy to overlook for his huge, shadowed eyes. He really did remind one of a fairytale, or even- perhaps more accurately- a Tim Burton.

Logan opened his mouth to speak, but paused for a moment. They watched each other.

“Would you like to come in for tea?” He finally inquired, the words escaping him overly familiar. The boy raised his eyebrows almost undetectably, seeming confused, and Logan caught himself almost leaning forward in anticipation of the other’s first words to him.

“You’re not Patton,” the boy said, voice just above a murmur and hoarse. Logan hesitated, confused, and studied the expression that would’ve been bored were it not for the slight tremble in his lips and a hint of surprise- Logan supposed neither of them had planned what had escaped their mouths. He reached up with a thin arm and brushed the back of his hand gently across his eyes. A spark of something strange flickered in Logan’s chest- this man was possibly not all there. He wracked his brain for labels- depression? Mild psychosis? Dissociation?

Either way, this was not someone he should invite into his house without more information- but as that regretfully occurred to him, the first drops of afternoon rain hit the tip of his noise. He wondered if the boy would stand out here after Logan went outside, and if so, for how long.

“No, I’m not,” he found himself saying. “My name is Logan. It is raining- would you like to come in?”

He was exceedingly aware of the boy’s breathing as they stepped out of the rain, something that would normally drive him insane- somehow he didn’t mind this time. His presence was almost calming after weeks of bringing a break from Logan’s ceaseless work. It assured him that the ghostly pale man was real, which was never a problem he thought he’d be debating... but here was this skeleton-thin, strange-mannered man entering his house as though he’d been there a million times before.

He carefully slid his shoes off, paying close attention to the floor- and no attention to Logan.

“I’ll make tea,” the latter found himself mumbling. “Do you want to come into the kitchen?”

“I’m gonna go upstairs,” the boy said. Logan blinked.

“I- you… this is my house?” He stuttered, trying to be assertive- surely that crossed a line? He’d never seen this kid before a month ago- but there he went, lugging himself up the stairs like he belonged there. O-kay.

Logan backed into the drafty kitchen to put the kettle on.

Time to listen to his voice of reason, he decided. Clearly this boy had been in the house before- hopefully before Logan had moved in- and knew his way around. And clearly his mental state had some connection to the house- whether positive or negative, Logan couldn’t yet tell. So, he concluded, it’s possible that he had lived here before. The married couple that had sold him the house had mentioned a son, but they’d been moving out of town- how would the boy have made his way back almost daily? There was a bus line in the area... but who was Patton, and why had his absence been unexpected?

There was clearly missing information here, and thus the situation was theoretically dangerous. The logical thing to do would be to contact the authorities for more information- maybe the boy was a local that they were familiar with. If that were the case, they would know how to handle him.

On the other hand… it was, put simply, a puzzle. Wasn’t it? Logan was smart; he was in online college and he was passing quite well. He had an A in psych so far. He just needed a few more minutes with the boy and he’d figure it out. He could help him... why else would he show up outside his house?

He needed Logan.

There goes rational thought, Logan sighed as the kettle started to whistle, turning off the stovetop and moving the pot to the side. Something made him turn around- the boy was watching him from the doorway, looking almost more upset than usual. His wide eyes were watery, and as Logan hesitated he wiped an arm across his face again, expression turning to frustration. He avoided Logan’s gaze. “You said you were making tea?” He said, carefully controlled voice just above a whisper. Logan was startled out of his stupor by the boy’s coherence.

“I, um- yes! Yes, would you- what kind?”

“Earl grey? No sugar, just a bit of milk...” he carefully pulled a chair from the small table, slumping into it and reaching to fidget with the salt shaker. “Please.”

The boy’s words stirred Logan into movement and he grabbed two mugs out of the mostly barren cabinet before pulling a pre-packaged tea bag from the tea box on the counter. He unwrapped the tea and dropped one bag in each mug, pouring steaming water from the kettle into them with a satisfying noise. The warm humidity and pleasant smell caressed Logan’s face, and he took a moment to bask in it before returning to the present moment- if begrudgingly. As he set the empty kettle aside, the room quieted, the only sound the rain drizzling over the side of the roof. Logan crossed the space self-consciously to close the window. The boy’s eyes were pointedly focused on the table in front of him- Logan thought he felt more awkward this way than if the boy had been staring at him flat-out. Either way, he could feel his awareness of Logan like a thick fog. He snuck another look at the boy as he hovered beside a chair, unsure whether to sit opposite him.

“My name is Logan,” he prompted, thoughts stumbling over each other to curse him for the repetition.

“Thank you for the tea, Logan.”

...Well, at least that was something. His name sounded strange in the other boy’s hoarse, delicate voice- less mundane, somehow. He stood at the head of a table for one more moment that seemed to stretch out an eternity- the boy carefully spun the salt shaker around in his nimble fingers, swearing softly as some of the seasoning fell onto the table. Logan’s startled eyes studied the other’s flushed face.

And then his head caught up to him, and he shuttered into motion, rushing to the mostly empty fridge for milk and fetching the small bag of sugar he’d mercifully bought a few days before.

“I... I’ve seen you around,” Logan’s mouth betrayed him again. That was creepy- although, looking at it objectively, it was much less creepy than being ‘around’ the way the boy had. The table behind was quiet for too long as he poured the milk.

“...When’d you move in?” The voice was quiet and held a fragility that Logan hadn’t yet heard from the other. He was relieved to finally have an easy answer to one of the many questions he faced. And, indeed, his mouth finally obeyed him, even and direct.

“About a month ago.” He turned to face the table, the boy’s tea held stiffly between his hands.

“Sorry,” he whispered as Logan set down the tea. “I knew someone’d moved in, but I guess… it was you.” The boy let out a hollow laugh, and Logan was swept with protectiveness once more.

“Don’t worry, I won’t alert the authorities.” Because that was the most comforting thing he could think of- he’d never been very tactful with delicate emotional situations. Predictably, the boy tensed. Logan decided it’d be advisable for him to move on. “What is your name, pray tell?”

Pray tell. Pray fucking tell? What was wrong with him? The boy cut him off before he could overthink the foot he’d just shoved in his mouth with the eloquence of an 1800s era schoolboy.

“Patton.” A moment passed before a look of horror came over his face. “Or- no, I- it’s- Virgil! Virgil.”

Now- once again, logically- forgetting one's name was not a good sign. Of general coherence nor moral innocence. Logan knew this.

Still, the boy looked uniquely upset by the mistake.

Logan fetched his tea and sat down opposite him.

The other boy fidgeted incessantly, and Logan felt it fell on him to make Virgil more comfortable. He threw tact to the wind- it was tiresome anyway- in favor of distracting the other and himself from the strange fumble.

“Are you a local?”

He got a nod in response, Virgil holding the tea tightly between his hands. Logan couldn’t help but feel he’d made yet another mistake- obviously the boy wasn’t comfortable talking about himself, but was it worth Logan filling the silence with unprompted facts about himself? Would that bore Virgil? Was that rude? He let the gap in conversation rest for a moment before deciding he didn’t much care what was rude.

“This is my second year enrolled in online college- I skipped my senior year.”

The stupid non-sequitor sat in the middle of the table, sinking like a rock. Virgil managed to give him an incredulous look, even in the depths of... whatever it was that was affecting him. Logan panicked.

Here are a few things about Logan Croft that were usually a given:

1. He often said things without regard to the effect they would have on others.

2. He did not say things he didn’t believe to be true.

3. He did not readily employ personal information.

All of these rules had apparently been thrown out the window the second Virgil walked in his door. As soon as he realized this, he worked to reclaim them. “Virgil.”

The wind immediately blew out of his sails, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Speaking abrasively had never been difficult for him, and this was not the time to adopt a new weakness. “I need to know who you are. You have shown up outside of my house for the past month, and while the reasoning behind this is presumably personal and not necessarily critical for me to know, I will at least need you to tell me your full name. Against my better judgement, I will not contact the authorities about your incessant invasion of my privacy, because I don’t altogether mind it- but if you are to have regular access to my house, we can’t continue this one-sided conversation.” Regular access to his house? When had Logan considered that option? As soon as he asked himself the question, he knew the answer- the feeling of someone appearing in the doorway, seeking Logan’s company… it was something that he’d missed sorely. It was something he needed.

The boy looked startled and altogether terrified by the long stream of words. Logan, still working hard to recover his sense and new to the inclination of softening his words on the behalf of strangers, disregarded this as best he could as he waited for an answer.

It didn’t look like he was going to get one.

Virgil opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, putting the salt shaker down on it’s side like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Logan felt a tug in his stomach to right it, afraid he’d get more salt on his table, but now didn’t seem like the time.

As the moment stretched forward, his attention was grabbed away anyways, trying to decipher Virgil’s expression. It didn’t look good.

In fact, it made his heart drop.

The boy looked withdrawn, fearful- like a bird with an injured wing or a snared fox. Damn it, damn it, damn it- Logan’s split-second adopted mantra was less than helpful, but it showed no signs of tapering off to make room for useful thoughts. Virgil’s eyes squeezed shut, and the instincts left over from Logan’s career as an older brother took over.

He rushed to Virgil’s side on blind autopilot, laying a warm hand over his bony back. The boy jumped at the unexpected touch- and then leaned into it, a choked sob tearing itself from his throat. Oh no. Oh god. Damn it.

Logan didn’t consider himself good with emotions. He did his best to comfort his younger brothers- god knows they needed it- but strangers were a whole new situation and honestly he didn’t feel much better about this than he expected the boy did.

Nevertheless.

“Hey, I-” he took a knee to lower himself to Virgil’s level, steadying himself against the table awkwardly. “Um-”

He choked on what to say, but his mind latched to the one thing he knew. Virgil had responded positively to touch- and with little further thought, Logan bundled the shivering boy into his arms.

Logan would’ve immediately taken back the show of affection by any means necessary if Virgil hadn’t melted into the touch so readily- Logan was reminded of an oversized cat.

That being said, Logan was holding a sobbing stranger in his arms in his new house, alone. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Logan had always been the kid at family gatherings who did everything in his power to ward off physical contact from his overbearing relatives. Although this situation was completely different and altogether impossible to plan for and avoid, he found himself reacting in somewhat of the same way- each place that Virgil’s thin, trembling body touched his screamed at him to recoil.

He did not.

He brought to mind his brothers- not that they’d ever been particularly physically affectionate with him. They’d always turned to each other, and he’d been left to himself. Understandably. But he imagined if they had seeked his reassurance, if they’d ever been as upset as this stranger was now. If they’d let him in.

But now someone was leaning on him for comfort, and he was determined to provide for them. Imagine if Remus had come to him for help, he kept thinking. Imagine if it were Roman.

And all of a sudden he had to hold back tears himself. He tensed, carefully leaning Virgill back onto his chair- Logan’s chair. Sensing the other’s discomfort, the boy came back to himself like a fire blazing across dry wood.

“Fuck- fuck, I-I’m-” the boy was off at a rushed stutter, scrambling to right himself and wiping his eyes angrily. Logan shook his head, patting Virgil’s shoulder awkwardly.

“Drink your tea,” Logan said stiffly. “It’s okay. I don’t- do you need something?” Good job, he thought sarcastically. Just pretend it never happened. Show him that, apologies, you seem to have made him think you’re an emotional resource. He was wrong, you’re actually a sociopath. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience.

Logan’s thoughts stuttered and shouted as he tried to fix whatever he’d done. Virgil was quite obviously shaking, almost unable to hold his tea to his lips although he did make an effort, and Logan resorted back to psych class- maybe not a panic attack, but certainly an emotional breakdown and possibly an anxiety attack. “Do you have a history of generalized anxiety disorder?” Logan asked automatically, the place where he should have held a capacity for compassion currently void for whatever stupid reason. “Or even a suspected case?” The thunderstorm in his mind froze entirely as Virgil’s watery brown eyes focused on him.

“...I guess,” he rasped quietly, eyes flickering back to his hands as they picked at each other violently. “I dunno.”

Logan let out a long breath, sliding furtively into the chair opposite Virgil.

“If you’re having an anxiety attack, it could be caused by a persistent disorder or a recent traumatic event- although recent is a problematically inspecific measurement-”

“Uh, then I- I dunno. Still. I guess…” He shrugged, looking away. “How recent is recently?”

Logan tried to hold back a sigh of relief at the comparatively simple question.

“Generally, anxiety attacks are caused by a buildup of unfinished tasks or other irritants, although there’s often an overarching problem or incident. A traumatic event can cause emotional turmoil for years after it occurs- or for the remainder of one’s life, depending on it’s nature- but in most to all cases, the effects lessen as time goes on.” Virgil nodded slowly.

“And- and what are the symptoms? Of an anxiety attack?” He pulled his legs up to his chest, presumably placating the urge to make himself smaller. Logan rattled off the characteristics quickly.

“Shaking, a feeling of unease, impulsive thoughts, nausea, panic, the sensation of being trapped or cornered, restlessness, hyperventilation, trouble concentrating, dyspnea- shortness of breath, that is- am I making sense?” He wrapped his hands around the cooling cup of tea in front of him, feeling the need to steady himself. Virgil nodded again- it was apparent he was a man of few words. That worked out wonderfully, Logan thought, as he himself seemed so bent on talking as much as humanly possible.

“Yeah,” Virgil muttered- then stood up abruptly. “Um- I should probably go. Sorry for… yeah.” Logan, decidedly more alarmed at the idea than he should’ve been, got to his feet as well.

“No- I mean, you don’t… have to. If you’d rather- but if you feel the need to go- I mean, I don’t want you to…” Logan paused, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to get his damn mouth under the control of his brain. Had he said something wrong? Well, obviously he’d said many things wrong in the past minutes, but… he thought over the conversation. He’d only been saying the facts- just what he knew. Was there something he should have kept to himself? Was any of it too personal? It was just facts, statistics, symptoms- he cursed himself mentally, although he couldn’t tell precisely what for.

While he’d been deliberating- not panicking, never panicking- Virgil had frozen in place. Right. The whole blazing trainwreck of words he’d let out for no apparent reason. Where the hell had that even come from? He’d known this kid for a month- five minutes face-to-face- and he was already being weird and nonsensical. It took considerable effort to bring the circumstances of their meeting to mind and even the playing field in his subconscious. If they were both creepy, did it even out? “I-I meant... you’re welcome here.”

Logan could see the gears turning in Virgil’s head as he fell back into his chair. A weight slid off of his shoulders as the air between them settled- they were even. Or something.

As much as he expected to regret his words, he was surprised at the lack of protest from his thoughts. It was, for once, blessedly quiet both inside his head and out. Logan sat back down warily. “You obviously have some- some connection to this house.” Like some sort of undead apparition, he thought- but he had the sense to keep that, at least, inside. “I can’t tell if it has a positive or negative effect on your mental state as I seem to be an uncalled for variable in your visit. I’m no psychological authority... I know you’ll come back either way, and I don’t like imagining you back out in the rain.” A shiver went through the boy like a roll of thunder, and he nodded.

“When can I come here again?”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #empty house au #ehau #analogical #romantic analogical #analogical oneshot #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides human au #sanders sides human!au #human!au #college!au #kinda

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beartrappcd · 3 years

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@marshaljustice asked: “ okay, well, if you’re leaving, then I guess you should take this. ”

Coming back to Blackwood Pines wasn’t something Mike thought he’d ever do. The only reason he ever went back after the twins disappeared was because they were supposed to have a party, supposed to put that awkward ass situation everyone was put in after the prank on Hannah that caused both Washington sisters to disappear behind them, unaware to Josh’s real intentions ( Handigo didn’t even give Josh the chance, grabbing Jess through the window and dragging her through the snow and all that ).

Mike didn’t lose just two fingers on the mountain that night. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t shake what they went through. And something like guilt sat at the bottom of his stomach for a while, anxiety like an itch underneath his skin. All those Wendigos were still in the Sanatorium. He should’ve blown it up when he had the chance.

That’s where Tim came in. They met at a bar and after one too many drinks, Mike opened up about his lost fingers in the bear trap. Might have slipped something about the Washington’s and cannibalistic spirits. But unlike other officers, Tim didn’t think Mike was crazy.

He knows the layout of the Sanatorium thanks to Wolfie guiding him, already explored the sanatorium the night the gang came over for the one year anniversary. How could he forget when it haunts him in his dreams, walking through the deserted and decaying halls, shot-gun in hand, ready to shoot anything on sight?

When Mike voices aloud that he’s moving on to search the morgue, Tim holds something out to him. “Uh,” Mike stares at the object in Tim’s hands for a moment before reluctantly taking it from him, confusion clear in his face. He turns it over in his hand, pops it open. Mike’s reflection stares back at him. A mirror?

“Ooooo-kay. I mean, I would’ve settled for like, a flashlight, maybe a knife or something. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Scare the Wendigos away with how ugly they are?”

#marshaljustice #GOING W THE MOST ASININE AND UNHELPFUL OBJECT BIT #THANK YOU SM FOR THIS <3 #mike vc: yea thanks tim #v: i keep the glass half full & the whisky bottle empty; ( NEW REALITY. )#amputation mention tw #anxiety tw

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oosteven-universe · 4 years

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Undead Messiah Volume 1

Undead Messiah Volume 1 TokyoPop 2018 By Gin Zarbo A pregnant woman is pursued by a supernatural creature. On the internet, videos of a bandaged hero surface. 15-year-old Tim Muley makes a terrible discovery in his neighbor's garden. Three seemingly unrelated events, all of which seem to point to an imminent zombie apocalypse! But this time the story's not about the end of mankind; it's about a new beginning... I have always had a complicated relationship with Manga. There are those that I think are stellar and then there's the whole Yaoi genre which baffles my mind even as a gay man. I was working on a press release for TokyoPop when I saw the cover to this volume and thought okay this is something I need to read. I'm a sucker for a zombie story even the bad ones, doesn't matter I will watch and/or read them all. So I was thrilled to be given the chance to read and review this one. This is truly one of the perks of doing what I do and it's bringing a whole new realm to my site in terms of books that you'll see. I really rather like the way that this is being told. The right to left style of reading comes a little more naturally have studied Hebrew most of my life, though then this also begs the question when did left to right change to right to left? Already engaging my mind in ways that surprise me and that's a great thing because this means that this makes you feel something. The story & plot development that we see here through how the sequence of events unfold as well as how the reader learns information is perfectly presented. The flow that the book has in regards to how we meet Tim and M-Kay, learn about them, their relationship to one another it creates this believability in seeing them as real people and that's impressive as all get out to me. The character development here is phenomenal as we see them learn and grow through the circumstances and situations they encounter. The pacing is utterly amazing as it takes us through the pages revealing the twists and turns along the way while it showcases how all this works together to create the ebb & flow we see. I found myself loving the story here. I was wondering how this was going to stand by itself in the literal ocean of zombie stories that are out there. What discovered is a very good, interesting take on the subject and the raw emotional material manages to hit closer to home than expected. This is one of the best books I have read in a while and I do mean in any genre. I love the interiors here. The linework is absolutely stunning and exquisite to behold. The black and white style is so incredibly revealing of an artists talent and the utilisation of the varying weights and how we see them bring out this level and quality of attention to detail is phenomenal. The sheer raw emotion that we see come off the page is so palpable to the reader. Then add in backgrounds here and we get this delicious depth perception a sense of scale and that overall feeling of size and scope to the book. The utilisation of the page layouts and how we see the angles and perspective in the panels show us this amazingly talented eye for storytelling. The impact the interiors have on the story is sensational and that Gin does it all himself so everything we see on the page is exactly how he wants it to appear is truly a thing of beauty. If you think Manga is for kids or just full Yaoi books think again. This is phenomenal and while Train to Busan transformed the zombie film genre Undead Messiah is doing that for written storytelling. So I highly, HIGHLY recommend that you pick this up and see for yourself that this is a book you need in your life.

#comic books #comics reviews #tokyopop #gin zarbo

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attendantdesign-blog · 7 years

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New Post has been published on Attendantdesign

New Post has been published on http://attendantdesign.com/new-imac-release-date-rumours-uk-specification/

New iMac release date rumours UK Specification

While will Apple launch new iMacs inside the Uk?

Will Apple replace its iMac desktop line to add Intel Kaby Lake processor chips, and what different specifications, design adjustments, and new functions ought to we count on within the next era of iMacs? How plenty will the new iMacs for 2017 fee in Uk?

The closing update Apple gave to its iMac line changed into in October of 2015, Whilst it brought a Retina-elegance display resolution to the smaller Macs for the first time and ready the bigger models with new Skylake processor chips. Before that, you needed to pass returned greater than years – if you don’t include the less expensive iMac which Apple launched in June 2014 – to the closing, right new iMac replace, in September 2013, Whilst Apple added Haswell processors, new pictures, subsequent-gen and faster PCIe flash garage options.

This is why we’re looking in advance to the subsequent iMac release – what we hope could be an early-2017 iMac update. In this newsletter we spherical up all the speculation approximately Apple’s subsequent iMac replace: When new iMacs will be released in the Uk, new iMac charges, tech specs, and new functions to assume, any leaked photos and films that appear on-line, and all of the other new iMac rumours which can be fit to print

Read next: Where to buy iMacs within the United kingdom | Wi-first-rate Mac buying manual 2017 | Wi-fine cheap iMac offers Uk

New iMac 2017 release date, rate & specifications rumors: release date Whilst will new iMacs pop out? next month (March), we hope, but we had been expectantly anticipating an iMac replace in overdue 2016 and that got here to nothing.

The Wi-fine Buy leak mentioned inside the processor segment of this article, which emerged at the start of October 2016, strongly suggests that the retailer has had boost caution of a drawing close launch and posted a listing barely too early through mistake – despite the fact that it is also possible that this turned into a speculative list created on the premise that it would in all likelihood be wanted at some point.

New iMac 2017 launch date: Apple CEO guidelines at destiny of the iMac In an unprecedented Q&A session on Apple’s inner worker network, Apple CEO Tim Cook dinner gave a thrilling response to a question approximately the future of the Mac, specifically bringing up the 5K iMac in his reaction.

In step with a transcript acquired by way of TechCrunch, an unknown Apple employee asked Cook: “We had a big MacBook Seasoned release in October and an effective improve to the MacBook returned in Spring. Are Mac computers strategic for us?”

Curiously, it is what Cook dinner did not mention in his response that shows what Apple is making plans for the destiny. In response, Cook wrote the subsequent: “The computer may be very strategic for us. it’s unique in comparison to the pocket book because you may p.C. loads extra performance in a laptop — the largest screens, the most memory and garage, a wider variety of I/O, and quickest overall performance. So there are numerous one-of-a-kind motives why computer systems are without a doubt crucial, and in a few instances essential, to human beings.

“The current generation iMac is the Exceptional computing device we’ve ever made and its stunning Retina 5K display is the WiWireless desktop show inside the world. a few oldsters inside the media have raised the question about whether or not we’re committed to computers. If there’s any doubt approximately that with our teams, let me be very clear: we have exceptional desktops in our roadmap. No one must worry about that.”

in case you appearance closely, Prepare dinner never used the phrase “Mac” in his reaction. At all. Considering it is the call of Apple’s oldest product line, you’ll suppose it might get a mention in a question approximately the organization’s laptop lineup. Granted, he does point out computing device computer systems numerous times, but by no means the call of the hardware, aside from one exception – the 5K iMac, which hasn’t been up to date in over a 12 months. Essentially, Cook was requested whether Mac computers have been strategic, and he replied that desktops had been essential.

A file from Bloomberg may provide an explanation for why Cook dinner replied in this manner, with keen Apple watcher Mark Gurman claiming that Apple has reorganized its software engineering branch, that means there may be not a team committed to MacOS – alternatively, engineers work on both iOS and MacOS. He continues to assert that the Mac has been normally de-prioritised inside the agency and that Mac engineers no longer get a great deal attention from the business enterprise’s industrial layout crew, which turned into till 2015 led through design leader Jony Ive, allegedly focussing extra on iPhones and iPads.

New iMac 2017 release date: What does previous launch history inform us?

The last iMac update was in October 2015.

Apple’s every year cycle is built around three main press activities: autumn – usually September (new iPhones and iPads); spring – typically March (new iPhones and iPads, occasionally MacBooks and watches); and summer time – commonly June (WWDC – running device updates and low hardware). But that does not mean the organization stays quiet the relaxation of the 12 months. Mac updates may be folded into the huge 3 activities, But they may be often released at their very own smaller launch activities. The iMac replace in 2015 were given its personal assertion, a few weeks after the iPhone 6s display.

However bear in mind that, in contrast to the yearly or occasion two times every year update activities we are used to for iOS gadgets, laptop Mac refreshes have often come several years apart. WWDC 2017 (a good way to take area in June subsequent year) is, therefore, a opportunity, and we can also wait even longer than that.

New iMac 2017 release date, charge & specs rumors: specs We’re going to add leaked details about the tech specs of the new iMacs to this phase as we pay attention them. Here’s what we understand to date.

New iMac 2017 specifications: Processor Apple skipped Intel’s a great deal not on time Broadwell processors and went immediately from Haswell to Skylake for the 2015 update. Skylake makes use of the identical 14nm manufacturing process as Broadwell, But brings, even more, CPU and GPU overall performance, alongside reduced energy consumption. However what chips will seem in the subsequent set of iMacs?

Truly to be able to depend upon their release date and the hardware it’s available at the time. After 2015’s Skylake, the following spherical of Intel processors, which started out going into mass manufacturing in overdue 2016 and is still being rolled out, is Kaby Lake; this can be followed by way of Cannonlake (Cannonlake was because of being next, However, it is been behind schedule till the second half of-of 2017). Then Ice Lake in 2018 and Tiger Lake in 2019, for people who enjoy this type of component.

Kaby Lake uses a 14nm method, same as Broadwell and Skylake, But Cannonlake switches over to an extra accurate 10nm system.

Intel commenced delivery its Kaby Lake processors in July 2016, and the chips offer aid for Thunderbolt three, USB three.1 and DisplayPort 1.2. it’s therefore now viable that Apple will squeeze Kaby Lake chips into the next iMac replace, However in no way assured, given Apple’s beyond behavior.

In early January, Intel used CES 2017 in Las Vegas to introduce its Kaby Lake processors officially, after pronouncing low electricity variations of Kirby Lake processors in August of 2016. The chips shown off in January are effective sufficient to be used in Apple’s Macs, suggesting that updates are forthcoming.

Processor fashions

The specific model of Kaby Lake processor we are awaiting to seem within the next iMac is the i7-7700. And as luck might have it, Tom’s hardware has got maintain of what they understand to be a pre-release sample of that chip. Certainly, they right away overclocked it and put it via rigorous speed assessments.

The one’s velocity exams located that the i7-7700 (or instead of the i7-7700K – the K within the name denoting that the clock multiplier has been unlocked to allow for overclocking) was capable of 4.2GHz under ordinary instances, and four.8GHz whilst overclocked. Critical velocity which, as BGR observes, would supply the new iMac bragging rights over the rival Floor Studio, launched before the relevant Key Lake chips became to be had.

Microsoft could usually release an up to date Surface Studio with Kay Lake, of a route, even though that could hack off the early customers.

Again in October 2016, the united states retailer Excellent Purchase leaked a list for a brand new iMac, and it had a Kaby Lake chipset – a “seventh Gen Intel Center i7 processor”.

As Technobuffalo points out, this isn’t always necessarily real: a worker could have created this as a placeholder until professional facts are available. But slip-America of this kind extra regularly occur because a store has been given advance caution of an impending release and any individual units it lives too early by using mistake.

We would say – based totally on this and other clues – that a Kaby Lake iMac is calling like a first rate wager for release in the near destiny.

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