edit: pritchard

*scribbles and dies laughing* (edit: colored the middle one ;u; http://sliferthewhydidigeta.tumblr.com/post/158232980469/colored-in-my-earlier-sketch-because-long-haired )

See I was wondering in Deus Ex: Black Light when Adam meets Pritchard etc did he wake up with his DXHR shades or the DXMD shades? They’re pretty different but I guess only if you’ve been staring at Adam’s face intently or something…?

There’s a theorywhere the Adam in DXMD is a clone/not the same as the one in DXHR so some people think in DXMD2 that DXMD Adam is hacked to kill Janus, etc (like how the hacker in DXHR was mind controlled to hack into Sarif/shoot himself) hence the “red eye” DXMD Jensen sketch on the left, then older DXHR Adam in the middle because maybe DXHR Adam comes to stop him (if he’s not dead)

I personally think… as sad/bad as it is that Adam will die in the next game… but I’d like to believe the DXMD Adam is the same as DXHR but modified/memory changed/sleeper agent…

and apparently Logan in Logan says “I never asked for this” so now I gotta go watch it huh



Adam opened his eyes to the twilight of the apartment, looking around, half asleep.

What the fuck?

Of course, he was alone, finding himself with no one else present; especially not Pritchard. This was Prague, after all; and the tech was still back in Detroit, halfway around the globe.

He must’ve been dreaming. But he could have sworn he’d heard the other call out his name, the sound of his voice still echoing through Adam’s mind, leaving him with a strange sensation.

Adam took a deep breath and tried to rub the confusion out of his face, checking with his cerebral clock.

It was only about an hour after dawn. He didn’t have to be at the Task Force command center for another three hours, so he considered to continue napping, rolling over. But the strange restlessness that had taken hold of him didn’t ease its grip. Pritchard’s voice kept tugging at him from somewhere at the edge of his consciousness.

Cursing, Adam got up and out of his bed in hope a hot shower would finally quell the annoying memory. It didn’t. And neither did coffee and a breakfast, nor Eliza Cassan spreading her propaganda on TV.

Dammit, what was wrong? Why couldn’t he shake this feeling? He couldn’t even figure out if he was worried about the hacker’s safety. He just couldn’t stop listening to Pritchard calling his name.

Back when they parted ways, half a year ago, they had set up a digital mailbox for each other to leave a message in case of an emergency. And Adam was actually thinking about contacting the tech. Only rationality prevented him from picking up the phone, since this wasn’t an emergency, after all. It was just a dream, was it?


Two hours later Adam wasn’t any wiser, and his unease had grown even more. Sitting on the couch he had entered an enduring staring contest with his phone. The device was winning by default, silent, calm, patient, while his thoughts were churning like a stormy sea.

Why would he even wanna call Pritchard? Why would he urge to speak with him, hear his voice, counter his snide remarks? It didn’t make any sense. What would he tell him, anyway? It had been just a dream, goddammit!

He knew, on the other hand, he wouldn’t find any peace unless he took action and got it out of his mind.

Stifling a sigh and being aware of his spare time running out Adam shoved his doubts away, leant forward and reached for the phone, speed-dialing that particular number.

It rang just once, then the automated mailbox picked up without any further introduction.

'Hey, Pritchard, it’s me,’ Adam spoke into the unresponsive void.

‘Jensen,’ he added, as if that fact needed any confirmation. 'I…’

What now? What was he supposed to say? He still didn’t know. There was simply no reason for this call.

'Just… call me back, ok?’

No less at odds Adam left his number, disconnected and lowered the phone, feeling no resolve whatsoever.

The tech was unlikely to answer within the next few minutes - even hours. Detroit’s time zone dragged six hours behind. It was right in the middle of the night there. And who knew what Pritchard was doing right now?

Adam could only wait, restrain his odd agitation - and go to work in hope it would distract him for the time being.


When Adam still hadn’t heard from Pritchard in the evening and home again he really began to worry. The tech should have received the message by now. So why didn’t he respond? Didn’t he want to, or was he, perhaps, unable to? What if something had happened to him?

The thought of Pritchard being in trouble clenched his guts with an icy grip, as Adam came to realize there wasn’t even another way to contact the hacker or make sure he was ok. And they were literally a world apart from each other. If something had happened to him, Adam would probably never know about it. He could lose him forever, unaware and completely oblivious.

The very possibility of that idea stirred up a nameless fear deep inside him.

What could he do? There had to be something he could do without leaving Prague, abandoning his mission. He couldn’t; not when there was so much at stake, not when he was finally in a place to get somewhere. And he didn’t know any mutual contacts to ask about Pritchard’s whereabouts…

Stopping short, Adam called himself down.


It was way too early to jump to conclusions. It’s just been a few hours. There could be thousands of reasons for Pritchard’s silence. Adam just didn’t know.

Yeah, but it was the not-knowing that slowly drove him insane.


Arguing with himself back and forth he likewise paced through his apartment for the next three hours, waiting, hoping.

If worst came to worst Adam would have to go back to Detroit and look for the tech, searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. A fool’s errant. But it was too premature to make such a decision, right now. He had to wait at least a few days, trying to gather information in the meantime. And if every effort failed, maybe he could get some time off?

Miller would never understand.

Adam hadn’t even finished that last thought when the buzz of his phone froze him in his tracks all of a sudden.

Heart pounding and holding his breath he just stared at the device for some long seconds, barely daring to hope. Was it Pritchard? It had to be. Or was it…

It rang another time, jerking him out of his stupor, and he leapt over in a heartbeat to pick up the call.

Number unknown, Adam noticed before he put the phone to his ear.


'Who else, did you think, it would be?’ the familiar snarky voice retorted. 'You were the one wanting me to call back. So, this is me, calling back.’

'A–,’ Adam had to swallow at the lump stuck in his throat. 'Are you ok?’

'Of course, I am,’ Pritchard strained, then reconsidered. 'Why? Did you hear something else?’

Adam could feel a wave of relief washing over him, turning even his artificial knees to jelly.

'Goddammit, you scared me.’ He let himself slump on the couch. 'Where have you been? Why didn’t you call sooner?’

'What, are you my parole officer now? I had a few drinks last night and slept in, if you must know. And what do you mean by 'scared’? What is this all about?’

'I… don’t know.’ Adam admitted, clueless again. 'I… had a feeling.’

'Well, there’s something new,’ the tech remarked and let a few moments pass before he resumed. 'So, let me get this straight. You were calling me for no reason whatsoever and got all worked up because I didn’t call back right away? And all of that over a ‘feeling’?’

'Pretty much, yeah.’ Putting it straight made Adam feel even more like the complete idiot he was.

'Shit, Jensen, I got things to do on my own. If you don’t have anything of importance to say–’

'Wait, Pritchard,’ he still couldn’t let him go so easily. ‘Can’t we… just talk for a while?’

'Why?’ The tech sounded suspicious.

'I…,’ - want to hear your voice.

He couldn’t tell him that!

'I don’t know. It’s been a while. What are you doing?’ Just a bit longer, come on.

'The usual,’ he answered curtly, still wary.

'And you’re safe?’

Pritchard hesitated again before he spoke his mind.

'Jensen, you’re being weird. You sure everything is ok with you?’

Adam felt like laughing all of a sudden. Yeah, now everything was ok.

'Yeah, I’m fine. Just glad you are too.’

Once more Pritchard took his time.

'Look, Jensen, I really have some things to take care of…’

'Yeah, ok, I understand,’ Adam relented. It was pretty late already, anyway. There was just one more thing. ‘Pritchard, would you… call me from time to time, let me know you’re alright?’

‘Look at that, I didn’t know you cared so much,’ the tech noted - and gave in. ‘But ok, if it makes you happy, I will call you.’

‘Thanks, Francis.’

Pritchard was calling me. Couldn’t help but listen :)

reminded myself of something I’d almost forgotten:
Steve Conte - Call Me Call Me

Just say you’ll stay until the morning

So, I was daydreaming… and found it worthwhile to write down.
Though I disregard the very existence of Black Light, I needed a quick setup to get them at close quarters :P
Contains Fluff!

‘As for the sleeping arrangements,’ Pritchard concluded the short tour of the Rialto hideout for his two guests, ‘the tent is mine, obviously. And I only got one spare bed, so you need to share. Or take turns, or whatever.’

He pointed at a dark corner on the far side of his living space where a worn out mattress leaned against the wall.

Jensen shot a quick look at it, frowned and resolutely shook his head.

‘Stacks’ll get the mattress,’ he fixated on Pritchard with a stern glance. ‘The tent is big enough for two, so we are gonna share; or take turns, or whatever.’

Pritchard felt his stomach drop for a second upon Jensen’s announcement, before the anger took over, keeping him from revealing a rather embarrassing reaction.

‘What the–‘

‘Don’t be a dick about this, Pritchard,’ Jensen cut him off. ‘You know, Stacks is low on Neuropozyne and needs a lot of rest.’

‘Hey, guys,’ the heavy steeplejack brought himself in, lifting his mechanical hands in an appeasing gesture, ‘I don’t wanna cause any trouble–‘

‘You aren’t,’ Jensen reassured, his grim gaze still locked on Pritchard. ‘Our host just sometimes tends to forget the basic rules of decency.’

Pritchard barely managed to contain the heat flaring through his veins; a heat caused by Jensen’s presumptuous decision, as well as the prospect of both of them sharing a resting place. But had he ever been able to stop the ex-Security Chief once he’d set his mind on something?

‘Fine,’ Pritchard complied, snarling, and turned away to approach his workstation. ‘Sleep in the tent, then.’ He’d just have to stay up all night. Problem solved.


A few hours later Pritchard jerked out of a microsleep that almost had him slipping off his chair. Heart pounding from the brief sensation of falling he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Damn, he was so tired he couldn’t put up with it any longer.

He cast a quick look over the dark and silent stage of the Rialto. The protocol running on the screen in front of him didn’t need any more of his attention for a while, Stacks was mildly snoring from across the space, and Jensen seemed to be sound asleep as well.

Time to wake him up, so Pritchard could take his turn.

Coming to his feet he stepped over to the tent, hunkered down and stuck his head through the opening, about to call out for Jensen. He stopped short the next moment though, as he caught sight of the peaceful expression on the other’s face.

It still was hard to believe, him being back after all this time. Pritchard even had restrained himself from accepting it when Jensen contacted him last night, torn between hope and the fear of disappointment, until they finally met face to face. The relief of seeing him was almost as unbearable as uncovering a deceit would have been.

Looking down at the familiar figure sleeping, half curled up, head resting on his arm, Pritchard felt his chest clench, and a daring thought popped into his mind.

And why not? Just for a couple of minutes. He didn’t have to know.

Careful not to wake Jensen he crawled into the tent, lay down beside him, scooched a bit closer and with his eyes shut breathed the nearby scent, felt the other’s body warmth slowly engulfing him like a blanket.

Just for a couple of minutes…


When Pritchard emerged from the veils of sleep he knew way more than just a couple of minutes had passed.

He also noticed he’d snuggled even closer to Jensen in the meantime. He could feel the beard prickle the skin of his forehead with every breath they took. And Jensen’s arm was wrapped around him, hand gently placed on his back.

The realization made Pritchard flinch, and he instinctively tried to back off, when Jensen tightened his grip all of sudden, keeping him in place.

Oh god, he was awake?

‘Stay,’ Jensen whispered calmly in Pritchard’s hair without moving another muscle. ‘This feels nice.’

The unexpected words caused Pritchard’s heart to skip a beat and sent a tremor down his spine. But he was feeling it too, and so he finally gave in to the sensation and pressed his face against Jensen’s chest, embracing the comfort of their intimacy.

‘I never believed it, you know… You being dead,’ he quietly confessed. People had called him crazy for never giving up on Adam Jensen. It didn’t matter. He’d been called worse - and he’d been right.

‘Thank you, Francis,’ Jensen’s reply was tender as his fingers brushed through Pritchard’s hair. ‘It’s good to be home.’

might be continued…

title from Tim Minchin - So long

sincerest thanks to @aledbr for the review, input and ideas <33

Francis Pritchard x Reader: That New Guy Is Trouble

He could feel your eyes piercing into his back, even if he was distracted by a motorcycle e-book. He was pretending to read when in reality he was nervous, reading the page over and over again. Unsure if he should pass it slowly…or fast…he sighed and instantly dropped the book to his lap, closing his eyes. He looked irritated towards you.

“What? Is there something on my face [Y/N]?”

You try to keep an emotionless face, your eyes just barely wavering. He was expecting you to say something, but instead you just closed your eyes and shook your head. He took the gesture as one that you were just staring off into space without noticing that you were looking at him. Just as he was about to open the book again, he felt your stare on him again. Seriously, what’s wrong with [Y/N]?

“Listen. If I have something on my face, then just tell me. You’re raising my blood pressure…” he exasperated then tore his cold stare away from your gaze. It felt like you could see right into his soul. He was about to say something else, until you interrupted him.

“Sorry Frank…You just sorta look like some video game character, but I can’t put my finger on it. Everytime we hang I can’t help but get a sixth-sense like you should be in Final Fantasy…”

He would´ve felt flattered, but your constant sight-intrusion made it nearly impossible.

“Uh huh…” This is awkward.

He clears his throat with all the calmness of the world and then just turns away, looking back to his e-book manual.

“You know…I feel jealous about the new Security Manager too…”

His breath hitched.
Did [Y/N] just…

“Excuse me?” He was feeling uncomfortable and awkward again. How did you know? Was it that obvious? You tense, afraid of having stepped over a line.

“You’ve just seem so stressed these past few days with the new guy and all…” Your voice became lower so as not to raise attention of others. No one was around at the time, probably on lunch break.

“I mean…You used to always have lunch with us, discuss goals and off topic nerdy things…but since Adam started joining us too you just seem to be avoiding the scene.”

“I’m not avoiding anyone.”

You look over your shoulder, checking to see if anyone was in the room before continuing the conversation.

“Then how about joining me for lunch today? To at least get it off your mind for a bit? Just us two playing some Triple Triad?”

“I don’t need anyone’s help, [Y/N]. You have been too busy lately to notice that Adam has been trying to get close to you,” he said, focusing all his attention to you now, “Why is he even sitting at the tech table to begin with–!“  

“Are you…jealous?”

“That´s not the point–” his voice was fluctuating volumes. He was trying to change the topic and his eyes are flicking around frantically, looking everywhere, but at you.

"Just…stop talking about it. About him…”

“Sorry, I probably crossed your line…” You knew it was going to be thin ice to bring the topic up.

“No, I’m fine. I just…,” his next words were barely voiced, “I’m afraid of losing you, [Y/N].”

“Frank…You’re almost the only person I completely get along with. (The exception is Malik) and if it really bothers you that much then why not talk to him? Maybe you’ll get a different impression of him.”

He was silent. This conversation was getting morbid fast. Maybe you should cheer him up.

Maybe he should just go and stand up to leave, but…

but he might need some space…
but you weren’t wrong…

“Maybe it is what you said…” he slowly turned around, again looking at you. You slowly opened your arms wide in hopes he would be fine with a hug. Frank looked aside a blush was just barely crawling to his pale cheeks.

“Does cranky Franky want a hug?”

“[Y/N], it’s not necessary–“

"I see you smiling over there,” He can’t he resist such a cute person.

He sighed, feeling his heart getting faster as you crawled closer towards him. You were sitting a few centimeters away before he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer.

Your face was instantly against his neck and the scent of woman’s shampoo and motor oil immediately filled your lungs. It was sweet, gentle, and still masculine all together.

“I knew it. You do use woman hair products.” You whispered into hair. His only response was one of those half-laughs where you blew more air out of the nostrils than normal. You were expecting Frank to detach from the hug after fifteen seconds or so. However, it looked like he had other plans.

"Aren’t you uncomfortable in that position?” He asked, surely noticing that your arms weren’t in natural hugging positions, instead against his hips and ground to avoid yourself from falling on top of him. “You can put your entire weight on me if you want, I’m not going anywhere.”

"N-No…! It’s not–!”

He had already pulled you closer to him, making you unbalanced and fall ontop of him. Now you were sitting on his belly, nearly straddling him. For a second, you swore you saw him smile, but it went as fast as it came into your view; that could´ve been an hallucination.

“We can stay here for a bit…“ Frank turned his head to his office blinds to make sure they’re still closed. “And I would love to have lunch with you.” He closed his eyes and rested his head on a pile of papers that were left on the floor.

"I hope you have better cards this time. It’s not really fun beating you all the time.”

“Thanks, [Y/N]. How does Thai sound?”

“Fantastic. Oh! I figured out who you look like.”


“If you parted your hair, you would be Laguna from Final Fantasy 8”

“I knew I loved you.”


the sleepiest of girls

askfrankpritchard hat auf deinen Eintrag geantwortet“anyway is Pritchard actually in deus ex MD because I need him I need…”

There’s also my script on his table that he somehow obtained?

You can find me in System Rift and in an easter egg e-book under the floor board hidden next to Adam’s bed. (Window side)

Nice B) I’ve got said book I need to acquire the DLC @askfrankpritchard