“Why didn’t it work?”
Archangel asked quietly. He could feel his control teetering, like a wine glass
wobbling on the moment before it fell and shattered everywhere. Red wine,
everywhere, impossible to scrub out of the perfect white tablecloth and his
parents livid at the scene of it all.
He rounded on Isaac.
“Why didn’t it work?”
“You said her mind
might be dreamy – difficult for you to tap into.” Isaac’s jaw clenched. “It’s
not my fault.”
There had to be some
way to get in her head, there absolutely had to be. She couldn’t be immune to
him completely. Even Isaac wasn’t immune to him, and he was maintaining an
impressive level of silence for someone who wasn’t actually dead. Blocked off.
Distorted. That wasn’t Isaac’s power,
even. Archangel’s eyes narrowed. He could get flashes of past days, painful
memories, but nothing now. He
couldn’t snatch control Isaac’s mind and bend him to his will like a boy made
of clay. Nothing since the day he ‘died’.
“How did you turn your
thoughts off?” he asked softly. His mind ran over mad ideas, of flawless
androids and zombies born again to life. “A pulse point can be faked, blood can
be faked, but your thoughts…”
“Well, she was
obviously on his side – they seemed good
friends,” Spring bit out. “Morphina might have done something, if you can’t get
in either of their heads.”
Archangel played the
scene over and over in his head like the nauseous wheeling of a spinning
fair-ground ride, always returning to the same flashes of sickening colour.
“Isaac. Tell me how you
did it.” The urge to pounce on his head swelled, but he’d promised and he
didn’t want to fail in front of Sanna and Spring. “This is all to do with you –
Morphina she – she’ll kill them -” He struggled to organise his thoughts.
“She what?” The colour
drained from Spring’s face. “She’ll kill what? What? No! No, she can’t. You
spoke to her? What exactly did she say? I thought it didn’t work, that she
didn’t come here!”
Archangel kept his gaze
locked on Isaac. A clammy unease swept at him, and his headache throbbed behind
his temples. Burned in his eyes. Tugged at every inch of him.
snapped and surged forwards, seizing his wrist and giving him an impatient
shake. “What did she say?”
He truly must have
looked pathetic because something in Isaac’s expression gave a little.
“Is this a discussion you want to be having with me publically?”
“He has nothing to hide
from us,” Spring snapped. “One of you just spit it out. Is my sister in danger?
How much time do we have?”
Her thoughts prickled
at him again, her emotions an agitated spew that made Archangel’s skin crawl
with the sheer force of it. His blood began to boil.
Sanna crossed the room,
the only one of their seeming untouched by sleep-deprivation or injury, and
brushed a hand over his temple. The headache eased. He could think; at least
for the few moments where her fingers soothed the pain away. His shoulders
Isaac folded his arms
across his chest and god, Archangel
knew that he wasn’t helpless but his hoodie swamped him and he was so pale that
he looked like the most vulnerable creature on earth all hunched up
protectively around himself like that.
“You haven’t figured it
out?” Isaac’s lips twisted. “You really must be tired.”
“Don’t mock me.”
“I’m not mocking you,”
Isaac said. “She deals in dreams, in nightmares. She makes nightmares come to
life, that’s literally what she does. What’s your biggest fear, Gabriel?”
being able to save anyone, no matter how hard I try.
“I magnify you, when
you touch me,” Isaac said. “Your power is in your mind. So is hers. You may be
more powerful than her when you have me, but that doesn’t mean she can’t use
your powers against you when you’re terrified. The greater your fear, the
stronger she gets, right?”
“And I feared failure,”
Archangel said. More to the point, he’d feared Isaac’s death so long ago. “She
was there. On campus.” His ears buzzed
and the rest of the room felt like it had ceased to exist, as he stared at
Why now? Why here? What had happened six months ago
that could possibly start this? Make her attack now if for years she’d been
silent, providing she’d truly been there so long ago?
Six months ago – Morphina learned that Gabriel knew
Isaac Morton was still alive.
Archangel’s insides curdled.
her side.” Was that why it didn’t work? Isaac sabotaging him all along,
muffling his powers perhaps, sedating them. “She’s killing us, and you’re on
her side. Do you really hate me that much?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m not on her side. Or maybe I
am. Brain like yours and a power like hers you could probably dream that in to
reality.” Isaac glared at him. “She wanted me in exchange for her hostages,
right? Second she said that, you panicked, and whoops there’s goes our plan
because that’s your nightmares come to life right there.” Isaac
shook his head, laughed that awful laugh again. “Great going after lecturing us
about controlling our emotions. Really, Gabe. I’m impressed.”
“You’re a spiteful little prick these days, aren’t
He couldn’t use his powers on himself, his control
over his thoughts was as mediocre as everyone else’s if not even less so with
the amount of traffic wandering around his synapses and Isaac bloody well knew
it. He couldn’t go near Morphina without being
terrified. It was a sickening thought – a punch in the throat. And he couldn’t
lose Isaac again, he simply couldn’t stomach it. Not again. And there was
Isaac, knowing that, and sneering anyway.
“I thought you wanted me to be more like you?” Isaac
Archangel snarled, wordlessly, and lost it.
Isaac staggered, clutching his head. Turned wild eyes on Archangel and
pounced, this time making a beeline for skin contact. Vicious and angry
and oh Isaac liked to pretend that he
was such a goddamn pacifist didn’t he, but here now-Archangel caught his
wrists by the sleeves, grappling.
“Stop it!” Sanna snapped. “Both of you stop it!”
Spring’s vines wrapped around them and hurled them
bodily apart, panting. It was enough. Both of their abilities cut and left a
“You’re acting like bickering children,” Sanna said
with a cold disgust. “It’s not about whose fault this is or isn’t, or what did
or didn’t happen that you’re not telling us about. We have to work together.
isn’t like you.
The shame crept over him, as cold and slimy as a raw
egg cracked on the back of his neck beneath their stares. He was supposed to be
their leader, and here he was tousling like a schoolyard boy. He straightened
just in time to catch the tail end of Isaac vanishing out of the door.
He took a few steps after him.
Spring’s vine caught around his torso and he rounded
on her next, eyes ablaze. She stared him down with a silent don’t you dare. “Tell me about the hostages.”
“Spring.” Sanna touched her wrist again, exhaling a
breath. “You too. We have to calm down, none of us have slept for days. We can’t
afford to start fighting among ourselves it’s probably exactly what she wants.”
She looked over at Archangel next. “Your Magnifier can stew for a bit, it’s not
like he can leave.”
“He’s not my Magnifier-“ His chest stung and his
temper flared again.
“-Don’t start,” she warned.
He fell silent and grit his teeth. “Sorry.” He
rubbed a hand over his face and released a breath too, made a show of letting the
tension ease out of his posture. “Fuck, sorry.”
The silence stretched for a few beats, nothing like
the companionable thing it used to be.
“I’m going to make us some more coffee,” Spring said
A masterlist of playlist to help with all your writing needs. Categorized. All credit goes to playlist makers. Updated as I find more
Okay, so I got a little carried away while making this. AKA I spent seven hours making this and i had to stop myself from making it longer. This is quite possibly the most intense RPH project I have done. This pretty much has music for any writing need, small and large. Playlist to inspire you, to make you feel an emotion, to put you in another place, or really anything. If you have any category or something you would like me to include, just message me. Also because I did this over several hours and it kinda just kept expanding, it’s not completely the same format. Some are listed by their title, other by content or category. B
Categories include: Angsty ships, Fluffy Ships, mythology, supernatural creatures, smut, BroTps, Villains, Heroes, Strong Women, Instrumental, Drugs/Alcohol, Genres, Time Periods, Mental Illnesses’, Royalty, Settings, Cultures, Roadtrips, and an Other category that has everything else I found that I had no idea where to put but thought it was super cool.
It had been exhausting as far as Skool could go. Irkens hardly even got tired, but having to endure the painstaking and tedious hours of meaningless jabber and the Dib was almost impossible to bear. For once Zim just enjoyed the silence as he reclined on the couch in the dark. It was so quiet, far too quiet.
“HI-YAA!” Zim yelped and jolted upwards as the tranquil silence was shattered by a certain robot that bounced out of nowhere onto the floor, striking out his metal feet. “Take that, evil piggy zombies!” The android giggled loudly.
“What are you doing?” Zim snapped. “And can you do it in another room? I’m exhausted.”
fo4 male companions: friendly militia leader with severe trauma, simpleton giant interested in shakespeare, charismatic mercenary who appeared as a kid in fo3, cold merciless android learning how to feel, suicidal anarchist zombie, self-loathing android detective with pre-war human memories, wisecracking faceless secret agent, brotherhood loyalist with a dark secret
fo4 female companions: normal girl i can fuck, french maid android i can fuck, punk drug addict i can “fix” and then fuck
something about this whole “danse is so racist” thing is starting to rub me the same kind of wrong that “siding with templars is equivalent to being a racist/homophobe/ableist/literal nazi in real life” rubs me wrong and like
yeah fuck half of danse’s and maxson’s wrong opinions and fuck the entirely fictional paramilitary force the brotherhood of steel in the context of this game’s story but also
ghouls and androids and mutants aren’t real, just as magic and mages aren’t real; just as poc in real life are not sentient androids made in laboratories and programmed to feel or act in a certain way, and neither are they zombies kept alive through radioactive contamination that also eats at their brain until they may or may not become aggressively feral, and neither are they monstruously mutated violent cannibals who kidnap people and either force mutations on them or dismember them for dinner, etc etc; and this weird false equivalence of characters being anti-synth/ghoul/supermutant in these games to the specific concept of “racism” (which is a very real thing that affects very real people) is starting to sound a lot like and have the same gross and unfortunate implications as the “mage rights” thing, like
black/brown people are not zombies or androids, in the same way that gay or mentally ill people can’t throw fireballs from their hands, okay, and I’m just
really uncomfortable with this whole thing
like I get feeling strongly pro-synth and thus generally mad at the BoS but
I just feel that “racism” is not the word we’re looking for here
Selling: Gorillaz fanbooks. Click on the books description to so the listings
Just when you thought Gorillaz was weird and cool enough, along come Japanese fans making fanbooks of the world’s greatest virtual band. The art is a good meld of Japanese styling with Hewlitt’s art.
Motete, Motete, Komacchau! :
Set in the Phase 3: Plastic Beach era, cyborg Noodle, real Noodle and Murdoch get into a fight. That’s about all I can say without spoilers.
Android Zombie Killer: Sold Plastic Beach era. The whole band is here, plus a humorous pelican and seagull. The books is all manga shorts. ‘After the Melancholy Hill’ is a conversation between Russell and real Noodle, one concerns a Halloween party, ‘Do Noodroids Dream of Electric Zombies?’ has 2D and cyborg Noodle, Murdoch blows his top as usual and several more stories about these grand misfits.
Nightmare Zombie KillerSold
is labelled as a slash pairing with Jamie Hewlett and Damon Alban, though there’s nothing like actual kissing to worry about.