so apparently when im listening to 21p while drawing i end up with this? okay??
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@partywithagascan
so apparently when im listening to 21p while drawing i end up with this? okay??
Symptom waited. There wasnāt much he could do at this point as the machines whizzed and the the faint noise of shoes clamoring on the other side of door kept in motion. Weapon was in there, being pulled apart and put back together. It was different here, not like the city. Hell he didnāt even know he had a brother for the longest time. Back there the steel walls were close than ice and from the horizontal view, everything seemed surreal and dead. Rainyday was different, the machines were music and every incision was a melody. It gave symptom hope that Weapon would be up and running in no time, ready to orchestrate the next plan of action.
The digital dream void was awful. It was all nightmare and no comfort. 0ās and 1ās in an endless sinking pit, a stressed electric aware state, where nothing was tangible and there was nothing. No memories to dream of, just encrypted data chocking every hole you had.
Weapon woke with a gasp of relief. Like release from a plug that was extracting your soul. The few around him either jumped away or wore an expression of greatest relief, it made him smile. A few medical droids backed away. āFuck am I glad we lifted you guys from the city. You too Leta.ā He smiled at the young girl, a city girl who had lost her job at the green zone medical center in Battery City the day Hazel and Weapon had chosen to raid it.
āGrateful you decided to come along with us, you probably saved my life.ā She grinned and knocked on the droids she called her friends. āJust returning the favor, as best I could at least. I was so lost and panicked without Hazel here andā¦ā She stopped and looked away with a mixture of frightened and chagrinned.
Weapon removed the monitors and various things strapped to him, trying to sit up with pained grunts, but shoving away the ones who reached out to help. āDonāt worry about it L, nothing we can do about itā¦. Iām just glad youāre here.ā She handed him a glass of water. āAll the tech parts seem to be working just fine. Mech Droid ran diagnostics and fixed up all the fractures in your spine. Luckily the steal iiiiis first grade and triple layered so no wires or whatnot was hurt, nothing a reboot and nano tech immune couldnāt take care of. Most of the damage was in your head, I-ā
āWhere is Symptom.ā He stood up and stumbled some, eyesight focusing and colors melding in and out of proper shape and hue. He could hear the wiring as his pupils focused.
āHey wait I gotta give you this whole spiel, you gotta take it real careful you hear me your bio-tissues in the frontal lobes are still healing you gotta-ā āYea yea take it easy I know.ā Ā
He couldnāt concentrate on what she was saying to him even if he tried. He couldnāt remember at the moment the specifics of what went down, if Symptom had been hurt or not. He pulled the door open and smiled with a shock to see the man right in front of him. āWell that was easy, usually I have to search for three days to find you around here.ā
Leta came up behind him making cautious and worried gestures to Symptom, āWeapon you really need to stay laying down weāre not done and-ā Weapon turned and placed his fingers over her mouth, her face blushing immediately. āJust a minute Doctor Iāll be back. Promiseā
Symptom could hear mumblings from the other side of the door but just assumed it was Leta or someone else. He knew they were working quickly but time seemed to move so slow, so many unanswered questions. Pacing the entrance door his anger and frustration began to get the best of him, it wasnāt until the door opened and there staring right at him. Just as quickly Symptomās anger extinguished when he grabbed sight of the other man. His words seemed to break him away from the infinite stare where he found himself trying to think of something to say. ā..The ole place seems smaller and quieter when youāre under, guess it would make sense for you to find me quicker.ā He had heard the woman behind Weapon speak to him, finding himself spacing as they exchanged a few more words before Weapon turned back around to face him. Symptom looked back at Leta who still wore somewhat of a concerning frown. āLeta, I promise heāll be back, I wonāt let him wander off.ā Symptom shot to Weapon, an eyebrow raising just in the slightest. Without waiting for a reply he moved a bit to give Weapon some room to walk with him down the hall. It wasnāt long until Symptom began bombarding him with his own questions. āDo you remember anything?.. Damn, you scared me half to death out there, for a second I really didnāt think you were gonna make it. You canāt go dying on me just yet, we got a industrialization to conquer.ā He joked, the truth was Symptom had been tense the entire time the other was under, the countless sleepless night could attest to that. He got quiet for a moment, thinking he was coming off too strong emotionally. āIām glad youāre alright, just donāt do that again.ā He grinned, sliding his hands into his pockets as thy reached the inside of the library doors.
Weapon gave off small giggles and then burst into gleeful laughter, āIndustrialization to conquer! Yesss mhhhmhmhmm.ā He kept grinning, Symptom was acting pretty strange and⦠emotional. They were both such fucked-up wrecks, it was beautiful this mess of torment and feelings they endured. He took the moment of flaring anger in strides, that he had been so weak and defeated, all before the eyes Symptom and most likely The Woman herself. āTrust me,ā He spoke in clenched teeth, running his fingers across the dust of the books, āI donāt plan to.ā
He closed his eyes and thought a little more clearly know on the events that took place, placing aside his anger, containing it for another time, āI remember⦠that droid.ā There was a growl in his words. āThe mother fucker, he knew my moves before I made āem, he stopped me coldā¦. And then you stopped him.ā His fingers flicked out and danced with imaginary electricity.
āHe had saidā¦.ā He grunted in frustration and pain, turning to look at Symptom. āHe said something about Her⦠tell me, tell me everything that happened. I canāt trust my own mindā¦.ā He was frowning now, could he not trust his brotherās mind either? He felt weak and tired again and took a seat in one of the large comfy sitting chairs, head in hand and fighting his demons. It all felt so off. Felt like a trap, a setup, The Woman waiting patiently for the moment when the trigger would appear and her clone boys would fire up and desolate the zones from the outside in. He had nightmares about it, and how glorious it felt.
āIt was over faster then I think either of us thought. I just remember you running ahead before I even had time to draw you were sinking your weapons right into one of their skulls. That exterminator thoughā¦ā Symptom took a deep sigh, he remembered him as well. He remembered that not everyone who was trained by him actually lived to see past Zone two. His death rate would more than likely impress the hell out of Weapon but he would learn that soon enough. ā.. From what Iāve been briefed he was one who trained Korse and he wasnāt even his best apprentice. He knew your moves because he designed them, kinda makes sense though, ya know? He was smart, he wouldnāt make anything that he couldnāt take downā¦Had we both been in separate Iām sure he would have been able to get away with it too. So you getting beat to shit wasnāt exactly the worst thing that could have happened, in fact you saved our asses because of it.ā He turned to look at the expressionless features on Weaponās face, he was distracted and the culprit was really eating at him. Symptom moved in behind the armchair the other was sitting in and placed his fingers on both sides of his scalp and began moving his fingers in circular motions. āI have a feeling even if you werenāt banged up youād still have the same look on your face. Wherever your mind is wandering, tell it to come back. Youāre too weighted as it isā¦ā Symptom was digging himself deeper, knowing that a part of Weaponās wandering mind had a lot to do with the disappearance of Hazel. He moved his hands off of Weaponās scalp and spoke softly. āWanna see how I did it? Iāve been practicing since Iāve figured out I could do it, it took a while and I may have had a few incidents in my room but nothing to bad.ā He smiled as he held his hands close together. Barely touching he closed his eyes and concentrated, his fingers flexing in the slightest as his knuckles grew white and the color began to drain. Soon enough a couple of sparks began to ignite until a silver and blue stream of electricity circled in his palms before extinguishing back to sparks and smoke. āIt takes a bit of energy out of me, thatās probably why I donāt remember much after it happened. I didnāt think it was going to do much but with you down I didnāt have anything to lose, I just got so angry and the next thing I know Iām trying to drag you back home⦠I donāt even know what happened to the exterminator.ā
Weapon was watching Symptom, a lost and almost innocent look on his face. Their circumstances were so fucked up, he felt the despair of all pulling on him like weights woven between his bones, laced through circuits. A momentary smirk flicked over him as he took in Symptomās energy, something like sweet, or domicile, something. And when his fingers touched his head he tensed more than he already was. But the touch of his partner was more than wanted and he eased back, letting his muscles relax and closed his eyes. He let out a quiet moan, always a sucker for touches and attention. He was moving his head against the fingers, eyes closed and then frowning from the pain, and how Symptom saw it so clearly. Still touched and confused that he cared⦠Thankfully he didnāt have to dwell on it too long as Symptom showed his new trick.
Weapon watched with wide eager eyes, it was incredible. And then yet again he was frowning. He thought of those fingers just on his temples. He thought of all this time that Symptom had been in this home, wandering alone while he just drowned himself in vices in locked in rooms. The little trick was meant for him. She gave him this gift so he could make the final move once he got his hands on him again. He realized his jaw was clenching too hard. He opened his mouth dropping his jaw and stretching it out, then gave a sigh, moving his mouth to those electric fingers, painted with ink and the purpose of murder. It was driving him crazy, this guillotine perched over his head, both of theirs, of fucking everyoneās. Ā He opened his mouth to touch against the fingers, sighing against them and licking. He look up to Symptom, and then turned completely, knees on the chair to face him. The wild unease was back in his eyes, the morphine having wore off, and he grabbed Symptomās hands, putting them back on either side of his face. āCome on.ā It was a soft urge, plethora of emotions flashing over his pale features. He wanted it. He wanted to have and end, the restlessness was eating him away. Caring so much was too fucking hard. āCome onnnnnngghhhhh. Do it!ā He screamed that time, hands shaking against the wrists he was holding as his old self switched on, unhinged. āItās what itās fooooor. Come on!ā
Symptom was used to the ever-changing emotions that appeared on Weaponās face, he was used to him being on edge, sometimes even more than himself. It was in the moment that when he felt Weaponās soft wet tongue turn to the sides of his face that seemed to snap Symptom back into something entirely different.Ā
He could feel the surges shoot up his own arm. The repressed memories played Ā dug their way back into his subconscious, the womanās voice shrilled through his mind. Not only did he have Weapon alone and weakened but he had the other begging to end it. Symptomās heart began to race, he was trying to fight off this need to kill his brother but he couldnāt pull his hands away, he only gripped tighter. āDonātā¦ā¦donāt make me do thisā¦..I .. I canāt.ā His short breaths escaped through his fractured words, the feeling intensified. He wished someone had come with them, he wished someone was right there around the corner with a gun pointed to his back. It would have been hopeless, Symptom would have found a way to finish them off before they had a chance to reload. No, at this time, it was them. the way it had always been, the way Symptom wanted it to end.
āWeapon⦠I donāt want to do this! Call somebodyā¦. I canāt stop!ā His hands relaxed for a moment still resting on his face. Symptom closed his eyes, he recounted the first day he had began his mission, the first day he laid eyes on Weapon and how it should have been that day. It wasnāt supposed to be this long, he wasnāt supposed to become one of them.The anger filled Symptom slowly, the only problem was he wasnāt sure who it needed to go to anymore. He watched his brotherās eyes, a lethal dose of desperate rage consumed him and Symptom felt he had the only cure. āWeaponā¦Iā¦ā¦ SOMEONE HELP, COME QUICK!ā Symptom screamed out, afraid his hold wasnāt going to last much longer. He pleaded to his brother one last time but the feeling took hold of him again. A shock wave of anger surged through him, the piercing voice of the woman shot through as he felt the colts surge down his arms and through his finger tips. He could see Weaponās expressions go from angry to a paralyzing shock. It only lasted for a few moments but it felt lie an eternity before Symptom ripped his hands away from his face. He wanted to pick him up but he could see the sparks still emiting from his fingers. āSOMEONE! I NEED HELP!!!ā Symptom collapsed to the ground, watching Weaponās body start to convulse, there was nothing he could do. He reached to hold theĀ otherās hand but the sparks were to much and only made his appendage jolt more violently. He could hear hurried footsteps racing to the entrance followed by the sounds of angry screams and the blunt end of a hard object.
He saw it. Weapon could see the programming in his brotherās eyes. he knew that algorithm. He knew the look and he knew how it would feel, that code written in synthetic blood, pumping and urging on. His eyes were wide and desperate, his defeat still heavy on his conscience, a self-sabotage that had grew on its own violation was screaming and moaning for the final shot. One good blast and he didnāt have to worry anymore about Symptom turning on him, about where Hazel was, about Her getting her hands back on him, it could all be over. Right?
The frown and panic on Symptomās face was beautiful, he could feel the pressure tightening on his skull but also he could feel the restraint and resistance in the muscles too. His brother was so strong, he was fighting against his programming and boy was it beautiful. Maybe even worth all the trouble they went through to get him there. Weapon was smiling as Symptom was screaming, how beautiful they both were, it made him happy. Rage and desperation, he could taste it, his brother was made the same as him. The resistance was lovely and so was the moment when the programming kicked in, a tragically pretty devastation, he felt the grip take hold and his body thrummed with the pre shock energy, he felt high and powerless, he growled in defiance and then the shock finally came. The vision of Symptom full of anger and power seared in his thoughts. The blast was deep and quick, pain throughout every cell he had, biological and synthesized, extreme sharp pain for one second and then black. But the black was quick to fade back to the awful white and then together they danced dangerously in static, shocking static. Pain in surges over and over, shooting through him for what seemed like hours. But he still felt his body, he felt his existence through the pain, he would have laughed if he could. Maybe he did. Eventually the static stopped, it all stopped. Like the plug was pulled and the battery was fried years ago.
Again he was in the digital nightmare. This time though it was mixed with his other dreams, his real ones. Ones and zeros and desert and stars. Weapon crawled out of the dreams eventually, crawling out of dreams that seemed to last for ages sucked. He woke to see the droid was over him, itās many digits working on his brain, working on his circuits. He tried to move, to speak, but the droid beeped and hit a switch and Weapon went back to dreaming.
The next time Weapon woke it was dark and quite. The droid charging silently at his side. He was in a new room. There were candles in the distance and as he rose and looked around, a weakness covered him but not pain, just exhaustion. He was in bed and there was another bed beside him, Symptom curled up and fast asleep under the blue covers. Weapon grinned. It felt like reality but he was aware that it could still be a dream. He could be in his own matrix in his head, but it didnāt matter really, not if it felt real to him. He moved off the bed, feeling the resistance behind him he reached back and pulled the plug from his neck. Thankfully he was still conscious. He crawled into bed with Symptom, hands petting softly before he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him tight settling into the pillows. āHey. You alive? Groan once if you can here me.ā He felt warm and Weapon was filled with that haunting sensation of⦠comfort. It felt so good, to be this close to him. So good. āHey⦠wake up.ā
It felt like grief, it looked like it too. The smell of rotting desperation stuck in his mind, burying him under the heavy coat of black that was drowning him. Was she there watching him, disappointed in what should have been one of her greatest accomplishments. Maybe she wasnāt, it didnāt matter, he would never be rid of her, not while he was operational.Ā There were voices, they werenāt hers.. nor were they Weaponās. The voices becoming clearer but the blackness continued to embrace him. A cold wet line traced up the inside of his arm, the kind of cold that finds a way of staining your whole body. It could be sleep paralysis but why make a machine that canāt reboot itself less humanely. āIs he awake? How can you tell?ā The only words Symptom could make out as a muffled voice chimed in. He was awake but he couldnāt move. This wasnāt an accident and he could do nothing about it. āI donāt know if you can hear me, I hope you can.I canāt kill you but that doesnāt mean I canāt make this harder for you.ā Symptom could hear a metal utensil being lifted off a scraped surface. It wasnāt long before a deep and slow moving sharp pain inched itās way up his arm. He could feel himself screaming but his body made no movement. He could feel the other picking apart the skin oh his arm and pinning it back. The only indication they had of his reactions was the heart monitor that gripping against his chest. āOh, Iām sorry Symptom, youāll have to let me know if that hurts, here, if you just Ā move your finger, Iāll stopā¦no? Iād hate for you to feel any of this.ā The more the other dug around in his arm the more Symptom fought to just flinch. he could feel the inside of his arm being disassembled without being removed. Searing hot tools, burned through metal and bone, wires being ripped out. foreign objects being shoved and replaced while screws were mercilessly being lodged and centered. He could feel the pins being taken out as a dull needle was used to sew him back up. āOne down, one to go.ā Symptom let those words drown him as he began to fall back into the blackness, the cold wet streak being painted across his other arm. He could swear he heard the others fighting to try and get him back but he was far too gone, burying himself in mother grief once more. A voice spoke softly in his ear, afraid of what that meant. Did they get him back just in time to do whatever they needed to do with his other arm. No, not this time, he could feel his fingers move, even wrapped in heavy bandages. As Weapon asked, Symptom groaned, these limbs didnāt feel like his, they had done something but he could only guess. Before he could say anything else, the voice from the operating room spoke up. āWeapon, sir. It would be greatly advised that you keep your distance, we donāt know what else Symptom is capable of and one more attack like that could be fatal.ā Symptom felt his face flush red, he couldnāt speak, he could barely speak all he could do was shift his bandages in his direction. āahh yes, thank you for reminding me. Symptom. We had them removed. not your arms just your weapons. Weāre going to have to keep you a while to make sure thereās nothing else that could surprise us later down the road. You wouldnāt want to hurt your family now, would you?ā He sounded like her. All Symptom needed was maybe even an hour, just long enough to get out of bed but he stopped in his thoughts. He felt Weaponās grip tighten around him, not a protecting grip but one that would have the other running, if he could even make it to the door in time.
Weapon wasnt very sure if he was hurting him or not with his hugging, it was hard to tell. He let him go just incase and settled beside him in the bed, holding his own hands so to not keep prodding at his brother. He was worried about his dreams, his static unconcious. Worried about any pain or horror he was feeling there. Worried that there were other programs working against them deep in there where they couldn't see. He was making enough noises, groans and the like, so there was definitely something going on.
He adjusted the bandages on his own head before he reached out to touch Symptom's forehead, feeling how warm he was. He whispered, "Can you hear me? Symptom? Anyone home?" He was worried about taking the weapon out of his arm, worried it would have some ill effect they weren't aware of, or that it would just make things harder for him. Weapon hadn't agreed to the surgery, he had still been out himself from the electric blast. He wondered about it, if he would have agreed or not. He felt like he wouldn't want to, that these were Symptom's weapons now, apart of him. If they started taking out the tools, both of them might be nothing at all in the end. Just some biosynthetic hearts and brains in a puddle. Maybe life would be better that way... "Mayyybe we should disassemble till theres nothing left."
(29 January 2020)
boomers, gen x, gen y, gen z are all irrelevant.
The only generation i care about is generation nothing!Ā nothing but a dead scene! product of a white dream! i am not the singer that you wanted but a dancer! i refuse to answer! talk about the past sir! ruling for the ones who get away
A theory
I have a theory about the timeline of the latest video by MCR. It is set after sing and the Boy is a joy that had went into hiding after the fab four fell. The Boy attempts to summon them back from the dead to help the joys fight back, but the dracs try to stop him. While he is being chased, a joy breaks the Trans AM out of the city.
Look Aliiiiiive Asshoooooles
MCRXX
Look for my new chat room WayVerse
š¤ššš§āāļøš„šŖāā³šÆšÆšššā°ššš¤
me, experiencing the sudden anguish that comes with living: alright
Symptom waited. There wasnāt much he could do at this point as the machines whizzed and the the faint noise of shoes clamoring on the other side of door kept in motion. Weapon was in there, being pulled apart and put back together. It was different here, not like the city. Hell he didnāt even know he had a brother for the longest time. Back there the steel walls were close than ice and from the horizontal view, everything seemed surreal and dead. Rainyday was different, the machines were music and every incision was a melody. It gave symptom hope that Weapon would be up and running in no time, ready to orchestrate the next plan of action.
The digital dream void was awful. It was all nightmare and no comfort. 0ās and 1ās in an endless sinking pit, a stressed electric aware state, where nothing was tangible and there was nothing. No memories to dream of, just encrypted data chocking every hole you had.
Weapon woke with a gasp of relief. Like release from a plug that was extracting your soul. The few around him either jumped away or wore an expression of greatest relief, it made him smile. A few medical droids backed away. āFuck am I glad we lifted you guys from the city. You too Leta.ā He smiled at the young girl, a city girl who had lost her job at the green zone medical center in Battery City the day Hazel and Weapon had chosen to raid it.
āGrateful you decided to come along with us, you probably saved my life.ā She grinned and knocked on the droids she called her friends. āJust returning the favor, as best I could at least. I was so lost and panicked without Hazel here andā¦ā She stopped and looked away with a mixture of frightened and chagrinned.
Weapon removed the monitors and various things strapped to him, trying to sit up with pained grunts, but shoving away the ones who reached out to help. āDonāt worry about it L, nothing we can do about itā¦. Iām just glad youāre here.ā She handed him a glass of water. āAll the tech parts seem to be working just fine. Mech Droid ran diagnostics and fixed up all the fractures in your spine. Luckily the steal iiiiis first grade and triple layered so no wires or whatnot was hurt, nothing a reboot and nano tech immune couldnāt take care of. Most of the damage was in your head, I-ā
āWhere is Symptom.ā He stood up and stumbled some, eyesight focusing and colors melding in and out of proper shape and hue. He could hear the wiring as his pupils focused.
āHey wait I gotta give you this whole spiel, you gotta take it real careful you hear me your bio-tissues in the frontal lobes are still healing you gotta-ā āYea yea take it easy I know.ā Ā
He couldnāt concentrate on what she was saying to him even if he tried. He couldnāt remember at the moment the specifics of what went down, if Symptom had been hurt or not. He pulled the door open and smiled with a shock to see the man right in front of him. āWell that was easy, usually I have to search for three days to find you around here.ā
Leta came up behind him making cautious and worried gestures to Symptom, āWeapon you really need to stay laying down weāre not done and-ā Weapon turned and placed his fingers over her mouth, her face blushing immediately. āJust a minute Doctor Iāll be back. Promiseā
Symptom could hear mumblings from the other side of the door but just assumed it was Leta or someone else. He knew they were working quickly but time seemed to move so slow, so many unanswered questions. Pacing the entrance door his anger and frustration began to get the best of him, it wasnāt until the door opened and there staring right at him. Just as quickly Symptomās anger extinguished when he grabbed sight of the other man. His words seemed to break him away from the infinite stare where he found himself trying to think of something to say. ā..The ole place seems smaller and quieter when youāre under, guess it would make sense for you to find me quicker.ā He had heard the woman behind Weapon speak to him, finding himself spacing as they exchanged a few more words before Weapon turned back around to face him. Symptom looked back at Leta who still wore somewhat of a concerning frown. āLeta, I promise heāll be back, I wonāt let him wander off.ā Symptom shot to Weapon, an eyebrow raising just in the slightest. Without waiting for a reply he moved a bit to give Weapon some room to walk with him down the hall. It wasnāt long until Symptom began bombarding him with his own questions. āDo you remember anything?.. Damn, you scared me half to death out there, for a second I really didnāt think you were gonna make it. You canāt go dying on me just yet, we got a industrialization to conquer.ā He joked, the truth was Symptom had been tense the entire time the other was under, the countless sleepless night could attest to that. He got quiet for a moment, thinking he was coming off too strong emotionally. āIām glad youāre alright, just donāt do that again.ā He grinned, sliding his hands into his pockets as thy reached the inside of the library doors.
Weapon gave off small giggles and then burst into gleeful laughter, āIndustrialization to conquer! Yesss mhhhmhmhmm.ā He kept grinning, Symptom was acting pretty strange and⦠emotional. They were both such fucked-up wrecks, it was beautiful this mess of torment and feelings they endured. He took the moment of flaring anger in strides, that he had been so weak and defeated, all before the eyes Symptom and most likely The Woman herself. āTrust me,ā He spoke in clenched teeth, running his fingers across the dust of the books, āI donāt plan to.ā
He closed his eyes and thought a little more clearly know on the events that took place, placing aside his anger, containing it for another time, āI remember⦠that droid.ā There was a growl in his words. āThe mother fucker, he knew my moves before I made āem, he stopped me coldā¦. And then you stopped him.ā His fingers flicked out and danced with imaginary electricity.
āHe had saidā¦.ā He grunted in frustration and pain, turning to look at Symptom. āHe said something about Her⦠tell me, tell me everything that happened. I canāt trust my own mindā¦.ā He was frowning now, could he not trust his brotherās mind either? He felt weak and tired again and took a seat in one of the large comfy sitting chairs, head in hand and fighting his demons. It all felt so off. Felt like a trap, a setup, The Woman waiting patiently for the moment when the trigger would appear and her clone boys would fire up and desolate the zones from the outside in. He had nightmares about it, and how glorious it felt.
āIt was over faster then I think either of us thought. I just remember you running ahead before I even had time to draw you were sinking your weapons right into one of their skulls. That exterminator thoughā¦ā Symptom took a deep sigh, he remembered him as well. He remembered that not everyone who was trained by him actually lived to see past Zone two. His death rate would more than likely impress the hell out of Weapon but he would learn that soon enough. ā.. From what Iāve been briefed he was one who trained Korse and he wasnāt even his best apprentice. He knew your moves because he designed them, kinda makes sense though, ya know? He was smart, he wouldnāt make anything that he couldnāt take downā¦Had we both been in separate Iām sure he would have been able to get away with it too. So you getting beat to shit wasnāt exactly the worst thing that could have happened, in fact you saved our asses because of it.ā He turned to look at the expressionless features on Weaponās face, he was distracted and the culprit was really eating at him. Symptom moved in behind the armchair the other was sitting in and placed his fingers on both sides of his scalp and began moving his fingers in circular motions. āI have a feeling even if you werenāt banged up youād still have the same look on your face. Wherever your mind is wandering, tell it to come back. Youāre too weighted as it isā¦ā Symptom was digging himself deeper, knowing that a part of Weaponās wandering mind had a lot to do with the disappearance of Hazel. He moved his hands off of Weaponās scalp and spoke softly. āWanna see how I did it? Iāve been practicing since Iāve figured out I could do it, it took a while and I may have had a few incidents in my room but nothing to bad.ā He smiled as he held his hands close together. Barely touching he closed his eyes and concentrated, his fingers flexing in the slightest as his knuckles grew white and the color began to drain. Soon enough a couple of sparks began to ignite until a silver and blue stream of electricity circled in his palms before extinguishing back to sparks and smoke. āIt takes a bit of energy out of me, thatās probably why I donāt remember much after it happened. I didnāt think it was going to do much but with you down I didnāt have anything to lose, I just got so angry and the next thing I know Iām trying to drag you back home⦠I donāt even know what happened to the exterminator.ā
Weapon was watching Symptom, a lost and almost innocent look on his face. Their circumstances were so fucked up, he felt the despair of all pulling on him like weights woven between his bones, laced through circuits. A momentary smirk flicked over him as he took in Symptomās energy, something like sweet, or domicile, something. And when his fingers touched his head he tensed more than he already was. But the touch of his partner was more than wanted and he eased back, letting his muscles relax and closed his eyes. He let out a quiet moan, always a sucker for touches and attention. He was moving his head against the fingers, eyes closed and then frowning from the pain, and how Symptom saw it so clearly. Still touched and confused that he cared⦠Thankfully he didnāt have to dwell on it too long as Symptom showed his new trick.
Weapon watched with wide eager eyes, it was incredible. And then yet again he was frowning. He thought of those fingers just on his temples. He thought of all this time that Symptom had been in this home, wandering alone while he just drowned himself in vices in locked in rooms. The little trick was meant for him. She gave him this gift so he could make the final move once he got his hands on him again. He realized his jaw was clenching too hard. He opened his mouth dropping his jaw and stretching it out, then gave a sigh, moving his mouth to those electric fingers, painted with ink and the purpose of murder. It was driving him crazy, this guillotine perched over his head, both of theirs, of fucking everyoneās. Ā He opened his mouth to touch against the fingers, sighing against them and licking. He look up to Symptom, and then turned completely, knees on the chair to face him. The wild unease was back in his eyes, the morphine having wore off, and he grabbed Symptomās hands, putting them back on either side of his face. āCome on.ā It was a soft urge, plethora of emotions flashing over his pale features. He wanted it. He wanted to have and end, the restlessness was eating him away. Caring so much was too fucking hard. āCome onnnnnngghhhhh. Do it!ā He screamed that time, hands shaking against the wrists he was holding as his old self switched on, unhinged. āItās what itās fooooor. Come on!ā
Symptom was used to the ever-changing emotions that appeared on Weaponās face, he was used to him being on edge, sometimes even more than himself. It was in the moment that when he felt Weaponās soft wet tongue turn to the sides of his face that seemed to snap Symptom back into something entirely different.Ā
He could feel the surges shoot up his own arm. The repressed memories played Ā dug their way back into his subconscious, the womanās voice shrilled through his mind. Not only did he have Weapon alone and weakened but he had the other begging to end it. Symptomās heart began to race, he was trying to fight off this need to kill his brother but he couldnāt pull his hands away, he only gripped tighter. āDonātā¦ā¦donāt make me do thisā¦..I .. I canāt.ā His short breaths escaped through his fractured words, the feeling intensified. He wished someone had come with them, he wished someone was right there around the corner with a gun pointed to his back. It would have been hopeless, Symptom would have found a way to finish them off before they had a chance to reload. No, at this time, it was them. the way it had always been, the way Symptom wanted it to end.
āWeapon⦠I donāt want to do this! Call somebodyā¦. I canāt stop!ā His hands relaxed for a moment still resting on his face. Symptom closed his eyes, he recounted the first day he had began his mission, the first day he laid eyes on Weapon and how it should have been that day. It wasnāt supposed to be this long, he wasnāt supposed to become one of them.The anger filled Symptom slowly, the only problem was he wasnāt sure who it needed to go to anymore. He watched his brotherās eyes, a lethal dose of desperate rage consumed him and Symptom felt he had the only cure. āWeaponā¦Iā¦ā¦ SOMEONE HELP, COME QUICK!ā Symptom screamed out, afraid his hold wasnāt going to last much longer. He pleaded to his brother one last time but the feeling took hold of him again. A shock wave of anger surged through him, the piercing voice of the woman shot through as he felt the colts surge down his arms and through his finger tips. He could see Weaponās expressions go from angry to a paralyzing shock. It only lasted for a few moments but it felt lie an eternity before Symptom ripped his hands away from his face. He wanted to pick him up but he could see the sparks still emiting from his fingers. āSOMEONE! I NEED HELP!!!ā Symptom collapsed to the ground, watching Weaponās body start to convulse, there was nothing he could do. He reached to hold theĀ otherās hand but the sparks were to much and only made his appendage jolt more violently. He could hear hurried footsteps racing to the entrance followed by the sounds of angry screams and the blunt end of a hard object.
He saw it. Weapon could see the programming in his brotherās eyes. he knew that algorithm. He knew the look and he knew how it would feel, that code written in synthetic blood, pumping and urging on. His eyes were wide and desperate, his defeat still heavy on his conscience, a self-sabotage that had grew on its own violation was screaming and moaning for the final shot. One good blast and he didnāt have to worry anymore about Symptom turning on him, about where Hazel was, about Her getting her hands back on him, it could all be over. Right?
The frown and panic on Symptomās face was beautiful, he could feel the pressure tightening on his skull but also he could feel the restraint and resistance in the muscles too. His brother was so strong, he was fighting against his programming and boy was it beautiful. Maybe even worth all the trouble they went through to get him there. Weapon was smiling as Symptom was screaming, how beautiful they both were, it made him happy. Rage and desperation, he could taste it, his brother was made the same as him. The resistance was lovely and so was the moment when the programming kicked in, a tragically pretty devastation, he felt the grip take hold and his body thrummed with the pre shock energy, he felt high and powerless, he growled in defiance and then the shock finally came. The vision of Symptom full of anger and power seared in his thoughts. The blast was deep and quick, pain throughout every cell he had, biological and synthesized, extreme sharp pain for one second and then black. But the black was quick to fade back to the awful white and then together they danced dangerously in static, shocking static. Pain in surges over and over, shooting through him for what seemed like hours. But he still felt his body, he felt his existence through the pain, he would have laughed if he could. Maybe he did. Eventually the static stopped, it all stopped. Like the plug was pulled and the battery was fried years ago.
Again he was in the digital nightmare. This time though it was mixed with his other dreams, his real ones. Ones and zeros and desert and stars. Weapon crawled out of the dreams eventually, crawling out of dreams that seemed to last for ages sucked. He woke to see the droid was over him, itās many digits working on his brain, working on his circuits. He tried to move, to speak, but the droid beeped and hit a switch and Weapon went back to dreaming.
The next time Weapon woke it was dark and quite. The droid charging silently at his side. He was in a new room. There were candles in the distance and as he rose and looked around, a weakness covered him but not pain, just exhaustion. He was in bed and there was another bed beside him, Symptom curled up and fast asleep under the blue covers. Weapon grinned. It felt like reality but he was aware that it could still be a dream. He could be in his own matrix in his head, but it didnāt matter really, not if it felt real to him. He moved off the bed, feeling the resistance behind him he reached back and pulled the plug from his neck. Thankfully he was still conscious. He crawled into bed with Symptom, hands petting softly before he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him tight settling into the pillows. āHey. You alive? Groan once if you can here me.ā He felt warm and Weapon was filled with that haunting sensation of⦠comfort. It felt so good, to be this close to him. So good. āHey⦠wake up.ā
oh hell, i forgot for a second that when this circus moves to the senate weāll have to deal with mcconnellās ugly ass again
Killjoy comics extra material - I wanted to collect together the bonus pages that arenāt in the trade, Iām sure someone else has done it, but I really like this little glimpses into the paper of the world
ā¦. oiiiiiiā¦. anybody out thereeeee?~ anybody fuckinā left?ā¦
hehehe its my faaaavorite color, knew you couldn't fade away.
āWhat destroys a man more quickly than to work, think, and feel without inner necessity, without any deep personal desire, without pleasure ā as a mere automaton of duty?ā
ā Friedrich Nietzsche, The Antichrist
Gttdtd= Going to the desert to die Ditdanbhfa= disappearing into the desert and never being heard from again Gtgttdwiwnbhfa= gotta go, to the desert where I will never be heard from again Ditdnoclfm= disappearing into the desert, no one come looking for me