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@synxis
▌ ✦ #𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐒 —— a selective && mutuals only multimuse, primarily AU and heavily headcanon based. features both canon and ocs, all AU. muses include; black doom, dr. finitevus, espio the chameleon, father francis (oc), fang the sniper, scourge the hedgehog && other variations. +21 preferred, minors dni. penned by mar ( 30, they/them ) ✦ 𝐈. rules. ✦ 𝐈𝐈. muse list. ✦ 𝐈𝐈𝐈. carrd. ✦ 𝐈𝐕. about.
night bloom
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lil peek of my scourge under da cut
there’s nothing wrong with me plus i don’t have any wants or needs plus i don’t feel or think at all
whuzzat
Gold splits open into inky black, hovering near Sonic's person, uninvited. It hums with energy, greedy, sick and unkind.
A metal hand appears briefly, the ring's owner, but Sonic knew that before it appeared. Between its fingers, delicately held, was a small sample of flowers; yellow snap dragons bundled with baby's breath, held together with twine. He tucks these gingerly into the hedgehog's quills — then withdrawing completely, vanishing without a word.
And they say Sonic is the one full of surprises… ( the flowers will find a loving home in his corner of the workshop later. )
@synxis submitted to Fin and said:
🫖 — Doc
Send 🫖 for your muse to sit my muse down for tea like they didn’t just stab someone.
It had been painfully necessary, actually, and Fin wouldn't hear anything to the contrary. Actions had consequences, and when that pest put his hand on Doc's back like he was allowed to touch what was Fin's, the echidna saw red.
The blood on his metal hands smeared shiny and metallic over the dusky gold, dulling it and making a sharp contrast to its usual shine. Gold irises shifted from his hands to Doc's face from beneath the cover of Fin's half-lidded eyes, his expression unreadable.
The sharp, expensive, intricate wooden pin he'd had in his quills that day to hold them up in a bun was still clutched in his left hand. Blood stretched up most of it, making it almost unrecognizable from its twin still desperately trying to keep Fin's quills in place. They were a haphazard mess, now, half hanging at odd lengths and rumpled. He'd need a good brushing for this.
Fin let himself be led away, back to their veranda, to the ornate metal and glass table awaiting them. He felt a shaking hand on the small of his back— barely touching it likely for fear of causing him pain—helping to guide him into the padded chair he always sat in.
Two kettles of tea rested on small, heat-proof pads on the glass tabletop, steaming and unaware of the horror scene they were to witness now. Before Doc could even move to his side of the table, Fin had dropped the veritable wooden stake on it and lifted the first kettle with a whir of his prosthetics. After pouring Doc's cup of tea first, he finally offered him one of those warm, gentle smiles that he knew Doc adored on his face.
“Please, love, sit. We're not too far off schedule for tea, and it's still hot. You always make it just the right temperature. It's impressive; not too hot, but it still steeps perfectly every time. Your labors of love know no bounds.” Thanks to his natural tone, the compliment came out chipper and cheerful, if not a little gravelly.
Setting the kettle down on its pot holder, he reached for the kettle with his own special tea inside. He preferred to steep it in the kettle because he felt it was more evenly distributed. Making it in batches made it easier for him to access his habit whenever he wanted it, too.
After pouring his own tea into the pretty fluted cup, he also set that kettle aside. Glancing back up at Doc and his silence, Fin sighed, brows drawing down and lips forming a thin line. For a moment, he looked lost in thought, as if he were working on one of his Sudoku puzzles and couldn't figure out where he'd gone wrong.
Reaching out over the small round table, he took the other's trembling hands in his and smoothed his thumbs—and that rabbit's blood—over the other's knuckles. Tenderness flowed from him like a physical presence, and his lips drew back up into a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.
“I love you.” He stated, voice dropping an octave or two and taking on more of a rumble in his chest, “So much. You're my entire world.” I'd never hurt you.
If asked, the priest could not accurately say how much time had passed between the offending gesture to staring down to a growing pool of blood. Doc had thought nothing of it — the touch to his back — it was common for his flock to become overtly friendly with him. This rabbit (his mind wouldn't allow him to put a name to its face) was no different in that sense. Everyone wanted connection, didn't they? To be seen, to be loved. Doc could see that plainly in the eyes of his flock members. Who was he to deny them?
But that rabbit was dead now. And the look on his lover's face, the man responsible, could only be described as vaguely irritated - instead focused on his beloved wooden quill pin and how filthy with blood it had gotten.
Another glance downwards. The scent of blood, the sight of a corpse was making the priest ill. He guides Fin to their veranda, away from death itself. Doc expects regret or sorrow to show in Fin's face, but they never come. Instead he is placated with sweet words, kind nothings, things Fin knows Doc loves to hear.
He wants to believe his words, so he does. Fin would never hurt him, he knew that, even as a body lay barely concealed in their garden.
Doc's hands tremble more than usual, attempting to pick up his tea to sip, but it's too great and ultimately he gives up. He can't help it. He isn't even sure he's processing what had just happened. The way Fin looks and speaks to him, so tender and kind, it almost makes him want to believe he had just had a violent daydream, like he'd walk back into the garden and nothing would be out of place.
But he knew that wasn't true. The blood over his scarred hands was the only thing that kept him tethered to reality.
"Why did you do that?" The words tumble out of him before he could stop himself. "He has no one to..." Mourn him? Miss him? Even notice the rabbit shaped hole he'd leave behind? He was a newcomer to his flock. No one knew anything about him. Still, Doc shakes his head, trying to calm himself. "He was harmless."
The doctor's normally unhurried pace was now a steady, relentless stomp, his gloved fists clenching and relaxing at his side. How dare he. The doctor thought, ignoring any fool who dared to stray into his path—those that didn't move were shoved aside and promptly forgotten, if they had even been noticed in the first place. The rage, for now, was merely simmering, but it threatened to boil over at even the most fleeting thoughts of the echidna overstepping the line. That thin, imaginary, threadbare line that none dared to tread; even the least committed within the Empire knew—do not interact with the hedgehog. Do not help him; do not act against him, for Eggman alone had that singular privilege. He'd believed after Starline that they may have finally gotten the hint. Apparently not.
The nerve of it all.
The doors to the lab opened with a hiss, and beyond its threshold, all movement ceased, every occupant stopping to gawk at the unannounced visitor. He paid them no mind, his gaze zeroing in on the short echidna, who seemed to shrink further at their meeting gaze. Every word spoken by the lesser minds was likewise ignored as he advanced to grab Finitevus' arm.
The doctor's grip was firm, but not painful, not that it much mattered for the inorganic limb as Finitevus was dragged along like a recalcitrant child. Eggman's focus was absolute, his mind a whirlwind of fury and disbelief. A flower? Of all the idiotic, sentimental... He couldn't even finish the thought; it was too infuriating.
Once inside Finitevus' office, Eggman released him, marching towards the botanist's desk. He turned, his red eyes blazing with a cold fire, and fixed Finitevus with a glare that could melt steel.
"Off frolicking with the hedgehog, are we? Explain yourself," Eggman demanded, his voice dangerously low, each word laced with a barely controlled rage. "What possessed you to give Sonic... a flower? Much less gallivant about with him as if you were one of his little friends?" The last word was spat out like a curse. Silently in the room's corner, Sage watched on, having already been in the room prior to their arrival; her face, as always, an impassive mask.
For a moment, Finitevus forgets to breathe. The entire lab was staring at him, their placations all but die down as Eggman's focus became clear. Eggman wasn't here for them — he was here for the freak echidna coworker that no one particularly liked. No one dared to question why. Finitevus can only manage a half step backwards before Eggman snatches his arm, pulling him along deeper into the labs without another word. It's a struggle to keep up —— the long strides of his husband were always unfair to the echidna.
Finitevus's face was burning by the time they retire to his office, shame and exasperation swirling together. Even behind closed doors, he shakes slightly, still able to feel the eyes of his peers on his person. The soft glow of light in the corner of his eye catches his attention, knowing who it was before he fully saw her.
Sage. The little program Ivo had become so attached to, that he insisted on referring to as daughter. A frown is pointed her way, his hands smoothing out his uniform. He was fairly certain she hated Finitevus and his general presence. He'd catch her staring at him all the time with that unreadable gaze.
He wants to scream at Ivo, for manhandling him first and foremost, in front of everyone, in front of his colleagues — but any protest dies in his throat as he sees the look Ivo gives him. Finitevus winces further as what he had feared the most is realized. The flowers, Sonic, the outing. Of course Ivo knew about everything. Why wouldn't he? It was foolish to think Finitevus could keep secrets behind these walls.
Alright, fine. Ivo wanted an explanation, he could give him one. He just needed to explain his reasoning. Surely Ivo would understand.
"He— gave me a ghost orchid—" he runs his hands through his quills, trying to find his words. "I thought that he'd use it against me, hold it over my head. It's a such a rare find, I still have no idea how he managed to..." he allows his sentence to dry up, stilling his fidgeting. He refocuses. "—If I repaid him, then he'd have no reason to come back. That's... that's all."
𝐑𝐄𝐅 for Fang's appearance! Confident and annoying. Most of the scars he has are on his blind side.
Like for a Dr. Finitevus starter !
𝐑𝐄𝐅 for Black Doom's appearance! He is given a thin, black hospital gown to wear and nothing else.
𝐑𝐄𝐅 for Finitevus' appearance! This is his Empire uniform. Black metal for his cybernetic arms and legs with a dull gold cosmetic for the joints.
everyone's so mean 2 me 💔
@synxis ik ur busy but i'm just whipping up an easy fini starter for ya whenever you have the time and energy :]
blink blink. Dr. Finitevus knows alternate realities exist, he just hasn't really considered meddling with them beyond the tech of his Warp Rings, too engrossed in his own work to really care about looking to other dimensions. Regardless, seeing a him that is not him on his doorstep is intriguing. The doctor steps aside to grant his alternate access to the abandoned Eggtech facility he's converted and used as his lab for the past 15 or 20 years or so. "Well...Far be it from me to turn away a guest. Although I must confess I am surprised to see a me who has allied himself with that Doctor Robotnik character." Referring, of course, to Fini's Eggman-themed garb.
Leaving the Empire was always an exciting prospect, the concept of freedom to the ex-cultist still so alien and new. The Empire borders offered him safety and comfort — an ironic frame of thinking given the cruelty the Empire was most known for (anything was better than the cult). That was to say, Finitevus was never one to be content with complacency. When his work allowed for it, Finitevus would go outside the borders, each excursion he'd set out for himself would let him explore more.
He'd be the first to admit he may have gone too far this time. This wasn't even Ivo's world anymore.
His eyes had flit down to his own uniform, a stark white lab coat with an unconventional palette, but unmistakably Empire. A frown. He supposed his counterpart would find it strange. 'Allied' was generous on the alternate's part — more like indebted and entirely owned — but this Finitevus didn't need the details. He didn't need to know anything at all.
"... Right."
Regardless, Finitevus is far too curious to allow himself to be wary by their invitation, throwing caution to the wind to step inside.
There a brief glance around his new surroundings before his eyes trail back to his host. Wearing — what he assumes must be warp rings — as functional jewelry was clever, though he wonders about the bandages. "Are you here alone?"
>:(
Ohhh yeah. Human Fang & Fini.
𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊
tagging: @lightdash , @dive2themellow (any muse!), @badnikbreaker (any muse!), @whoaxisxme , @scumbag-the-hedgehog , @quartarcade (any muse!) + anyone else that sees this!
peeks
