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@secondsnctdecades
little advice from someone who's been there? don't do the math. that equation does not exist. there's no "save five harlans for every two claires" formula. people like us, we will never save enough lives to make up for the ones that we take. independent five from tua spatial jumped by beck. (x)
Being a detective is not all invading people's minds, reading objects, and ta-da, there's your answer. Sometimes, actual detective work is required
independent and private edwin payne from dead boy detectives exorcised by beck (x)
Being a detective is not all invading people's minds, reading objects, and ta-da, there's your answer. Sometimes, actual detective work is required
independent and private edwin payne from dead boy detectives exorcised by beck (x)
Being a detective is not all invading people's minds, reading objects, and ta-da, there's your answer. Sometimes, actual detective work is required
independent and private edwin payne from dead boy detectives exorcised by beck (x)
Being a detective is not all invading people's minds, reading objects, and ta-da, there's your answer. Sometimes, actual detective work is required
independent and private edwin payne from dead boy detectives exorcised by beck (x)
Being a detective is not all invading people's minds, reading objects, and ta-da, there's your answer. Sometimes, actual detective work is required
independent and private edwin payne from dead boy detectives exorcised by beck (x)
If anyone could point me in the direction of screencaps for dead boy detectives I'd be so happy.
Hey so if any of you guys like the new Dead Boy Detectives show, I made a brand spanking new Edwin. Come write with the tortured boy.
there's something on the tip of klaus's tongue that feels a lot like an apology. the taste is bitter, and he lifts the glass to his mouth to scatter it away and replace it with the cool sting of whisky. he wants to express how much he, himself, missed when five vanished- mainly his brother and the years they would have had -but he doesn't. he knows if he does the younger-and-older counterpart would blink and he wouldn't have anyone left to talk to aside from the spirits haunting him. if he let them. which was…
ehhh, highly unlikely. he wasn't that desperate for company.
"fair," is his only response to the reminder, and his tone is just flat enough to convey that he means it. vacant of his usual flourish, the vocabulary feels more genuine.
about the rest of it klaus finds himself contemplating, thoughts shifting like moving pictures on a screen behind green, now-somewhat-glassy eyes. his fingertips tingle with the buzz of alcohol, itching for another cigarette. he refrains.
"exactly," klaus says, as though five has just proven his entire point. he looks at five directly now, hand holding the crystal glass but seeming to have forgotten about it momentarily. "the last i checked, the commission isn't the highest in the food chain. there's always someone bigger and badder pulling the strings. someone else who has the tech. so the way i see it we either get ourselves another briefcase, or we find a way to rip a hole in time and space using our bare fuckin' hands, which… sounds sexier than it probably is." he lifts the glass to his lips and takes two large swallows of it before sitting it back down with a gentle clink.
they all have their issues. the fucked up upbringing mixed with various terrible life decisions leading to a general distrust in how the others operate or a want to be accepted for their flaws. it didn't mean it would happen or that it was fair. but there was a general sense of guilt that they all carried for how they treated each other. he doesn't have any reason to abandon this conversation yet.
"it doesn't mean you're not wrong, however." he can't say the words but the implication is there. he is sorry. klaus has often been overlooked and deserved better than that.
it does bring up some big questions. the commission acted as the main enforcement of the timeline equilibrium but there had to be others. five wonders if he's killed any of their agents over his career. he'd heard whispers, sure. but nothing specific. "we? i'm the one with the power to rip through time. i'd have to figure out the exact equation to jump us sideways to the correct branch of time, protecting six people from any biological changes like being deaged and avoiding jumping into an apocalypse line. it'd take more time than we have left to calculate."
❝ So then you're saying that regardless of what butterflies you step on it the past, the world is set on detonating itself one way or another? ❞ It was a terrifying thing to imagine, that it was written that the fate of the world would end in an apocalypse, no matter how hard someone tried to prevent it. She wondered if this fate would happen in her lifetime - likely considering her immortality.
"seems that way. no matter what, the end is always coming. it's just the speed that changes. averting one apocalypse tends to start another. or, sows the seeds of it." he had run from one end to the next and somehow they kept coming. "but, maybe one day we'll die before the one that can't be delayed happens."
the correction has him snorting and his eyes roll, but he knows what it means when he hears it so he lets it go without comment. he finishes the amber liquid in his glass and sits it down, running the pad of his index finger along the rim of the crystal as five continues.
his green eyes seek five's gaze as his head tilts and his expression transforms into something that might convey 'sounds about right' when accused of bullshitting.
he sits up a bit straighter, reaching for the liquor bottle and refilling his glass beyond the appropriate as the liquid sloshed three-quarters full in the glass before he stopped. "ooor," he began as he sat the bottle back down and corked it once more, "and hear me out-- you only think i'm bullshitting my way through everything because you assume that i don't know what i'm talking about when i actually do."
he paused, considering that, then rephrasing.
"okay, i know what i'm talking about most of the time, but the point still stands. i'm right waaaaay more often than any of you ever give me credit for." his hand is gesticulating again and he comes to an abrupt stop, but there's an edge to the conversational tone that suggests what he said genuinely bothers him. he can't blame them, but he can sort of resent them for it. just a little.
he smirks, not letting it register beyond the initial feeling. he takes another drag of the cigarette and snuffs it out in the tray, grimacing as he exhales.
"you'd think those blues brothers lookin' fucks wouldn't be the only ones with that kinda tech…" he laments, moving on to the subject of the apocalypse because that was the situation at hand, staring into the glass but not drinking any of the liquid. yet. "it's like- one person discovers the key, then the key gets out and other people start trying to use it for their own ciphers. like medical corporations selling their life-saving meds to the highest bidders and replicating diluted versions of it to pocket the market."
klaus has never been one five has looked to for guidance. in their classes four was often left behind by his other siblings. maybe it was the ghosts distracting him but five had written off his intelligence long ago. that didn't mean he didn't see klaus' true intelligence. his emotional intellect is a lot larger than any of them. something five has never understood.
"i only know what i have experienced." a less than subtle reminder that five had missed a large majority of klaus' life and therefore couldn't comment on what he didn't know. he understands not being respected. everyone still treats him as the child that left them at breakfast and not the exhausted old man he has become.
the commission had a large monopoly on time and it has never occurred to him that others must possess it too. or, did they eliminate all their competitors? "productivity often comes at the cost of someone who is manipulated to do whatever fucks them over."
Viktor honestly didn't know what Allison wanted, didn't want to think about it. She made it clear time and time again recently, that if something hurt him, either incidentally or on purpose, that would always be her first option, and the part of him that hated himself couldn't blame her for it either.
It was true that neither of them knew what the outcome of this plan would be. A fight against an unknown enemy, powerful and fast enough to cause serious harm to Diego. It wasn't a proposition that he was really looking forward to, but it was the first time in what felt like forever, that he could fight alongside his siblings, instead of against them.
Though, Viktor wasn't confident that Allison herself would sign onto the plan if he did. "I think...Allison would do anything to get Clare back, including agreeing to anything Dad suggests." He wasn't really their dad in this universe, but there was too much similarity to deny the title. But what did he want?
Harlan was gone, Sissy dead waiting for him to come back and he had betrayed her. Was it selfish of him to hope that there would be another world where he could go back to her? That she would forgive him for leaving? The heartbreak threatened to rip him up inside anew and he glanced at the bottle Five was holding but still made no move for it.
For the first time, he had to move beyond seeing his family as the enemy, as people who have hurt him, and step up to the plate. To stand beside them, even if not all of them wanted him there. That's what family meant. He puts a hand on Five's shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. "I don't know about the others, Five, but I'll be there with you."
allison would do anything for her family. it's just a shame it's the one that doesn't involve her actual siblings but her daughter. five understands it. wants his sister to be happy. but the price of everyone for a single person is a math he cannot compute.
he takes another drink before passing the bottle to viktor. he hasn't failed to notice the looks. they both could do with it. they're both the monsters in the story their family tells. viktor is the bomb and five the fuse.
the touch draws his attention immediately. be it years of touch starvation or the only touch being an attack but he can never fully accept a touch without making sure of intentions. viktor's seem pure. "as i will for you, viktor. we need to stick together."
so what's vault thirty-two and thirty three, just people to be controlled? private independent norman 'norm' maclean from prime's fallout penned by beck (x)
@secondsnctdecades + from here.
another day, another apocalypse.
the good thing about being raised in an environment where your adoptive father puts you in life threatening situations routinely and on purpose is that when something much bigger and more complex comes along, you don't really bat an eyelid. coincidentally, that reaction alone is the entire reason the world is still ending. every world. every dimension and every universe.
everything, everywhere all at the same time or... something like that. the grandfather paradox, shafting all of reality and making it collapse inward like some terrible joke of a black hole, turning everything near it into human spaghetti.
ugh. now he wasn't gonna be able to stomach pasta for a few days.
he's delving deep into the philosophical side of cavatelli when five speaks, breaking the silence and ending the sincerity of the thought spiral. his own glass of amber liquid stops halfway to his lips, and the twitch at the corner of his mouth almost transforms into a smile. almost.
"ha! knew you loved me, tiny dancer…" the words are accompanied by a smug tone of voice, but the colour in his cheeks betrays that he appreciates the sentiment. there's a cigarette burning between the fingers of his right hand, and he takes a drag before he speaks again. "i'd be a lot less of an asshat if people would just open their hearts and listen to what i have to say, y'know... or not abandon me when i ask for help... or notice at all when i literally vanish without a trace…"
he continues the ramble, but it's mostly incoherent bits of woe-is-me tortured poetry, explaining metaphorically what he already explained literally.
he did wonder if they even made it out of this shitty mess if the next timeline wouldn't just end out of spite. they were lost in time. space. at least his family had never been in the type of apocalypse that forged him from a young boy to something far worse than human. he looked at his family and saw them as their thirteen year old selves being left at a breakfast table. their bodies covered in ash. burned from nuclear radiation. full of bullets. various deaths overlapping their present breathing figures.
life really was a crock of shit.
it takes all he has not to blink away at the declaration of love. an emotion he doesn't know how to deal with despite it being his manifesto. "you're not as moronic as i first thought." it's as close as he can get to the real words right now so klaus would have to just take it.
the words catch his attention. "i'm sorry, klaus. if we're about to die you might as well get the satisfaction of being right once. don't let it go to your head. you do tend to bullshit your way to the correct answer."
Okay, maybe that was the wrong thing to say, Viktor thought as he winced slightly. So much for trying to avoid therapizing, he knew how much Five chafed at the idea of people condescending to him, and Viktor disliked it too. He gazes at the bottle and wouldn't deny wanting some too, but asking for it felt presumptuous so he buried that desire. If Five wanted to share, he would.
At the mention of Allison rumouring them all, he gulped instinctively, unable to forget what she did to him. The rumouring, Harlan's disappearance and her being responsible for it just to "take him down a peg". Viktor closed his eyes tightly and looked down, not wanting Five to see him cry. Five wasn't responsible for what happened between him and Allison, and he didn't want to focus on it.
"I don't think we should have Allison use her powers for us to do this." Viktor hated how his voice wavered slightly. "I don't like Dad's plan either." I don't like that we might not have another option.
He took a breath, trying to steady himself again, trying to find something that would avoid Five snapping at him again. He didn't want to leave Five to wallow. "I don't think you want to...take the choice away from the rest of us, do you?"
Don't be like Dad, Five, is what he really wanted to say.
he doesn't mean to be barbed wire made flesh. his idea of being kind was never nurtured by their father and his life hasn't fostered it either. the only softness coming from his love for his family and the wise old age hidden behind his youthful figure. he knew he'd crossed a line mentioning allison when the pain of losing harlan would still wear on his brother.
"i don't think the plan will do anything but get dad what he wants. allison too, if she's for it. there's an angle we don't see and i don't follow orders blindly any more."
hopefully, he'd not be forced to break his vow to forego killing to keep his free will. "if the rest of the family vote to follow the old man i won't stop you if that's what you're asking. you're all capable of making your own idiotic choices without my input."
You're a good brother.
The relief was clear on Viktor's face when Five allowed him to stay, and he moved to sit next to him on the couch. He understood some of the pressure that Five was under, and though he did learn some skills in therapy - therapy from another time, when so much of himself was still closeted. Would those skills even work now, when so much had changed? What he had remembered was that, he couldn't force those lessons on someone else, no matter how much he felt another needed it.
"What's wrong with a social visit?" Viktor asked in his characteristic softness. "I don't think I'm the one to try and give you therapy, but if you want to talk, I won't judge what you're going through."
The threats of murder, he recalls all too well. The mere mention of threats reminded him of what happened when he first realized his powers, lashed out at Allison, and Luther's response. Luther's actions were more an active attempt on his life than a threat, and the memory threatens to cloud his thinking before he pushes it out of his mind for now.
"Call it making up for lost time. If not now, we might not have another chance."
what he was going through? he didn't entirely understand the insinuation. what he is going through is the third end of the world in three weeks. the third fracture of a family he had lost so long ago and the pieces that remained are not at all like the memories that survived the apocalypse. add onto that seeing them die twice and even watching his own life slip away and...he takes another long draw from the alcohol before he spirals on that.
was viktor okay? he didn't like how either side had played the harlan problem but it was over now. by his calculations they only had another twenty-four hours before nothing mattered at all.
"didn't you get the memo? we're all about to die. end of the world all over again. what we should be doing is preparing for allison to rumour us all to get us to sign onto dad's suicidal plan."
