#capricious writings

[capriciouswriter207]

Hermit-a-day (Day 11)

GoodTimesWithScar - 8 days

“Access has been denied.”

“Why?” Scar asked, genuinely wondering. Still, the military’s spokesperson and liaison on the other side of the table sighed.

“Don't start that again.”

“I’m just curious,” Scar said. “Why am I not allowed to see my friend?”

Grian was still separated from the rest. And Impulse and Tango and Jevin and many others. Those who had come close to the rifts or were inflicted with strange illnesses (and maybe diseases) were still segregated from the others - and, from how they had been talking about it, from one another too.

Which, in Scar’s opinion, to put it mildly, was a crime.

Skizz felt the same - if the floors weren’t made of tiles, he would’ve already paced himself a trench about a foot deep.

“We cannot explain further what you don’t want to understand,” the liaison said. “We do not know what has afflicted them yet and are still trying to figure out a cure. In the meantime, for their, your and everyone else’s safety, they are kept apart. Once the time is appropriate and they’ve recovered enough, we will allow visitation.”

“They’ve been perfectly fine!” Scar argued. “Not perfectly, but we’ve kept them in the same room and they were fine.”

The liaison gave Scar an incredulous look. “Your friend is still floating.”

“But he didn’t make Impulse worse when they stayed in the same room,” Scar said. 

“Once the time is appropriate,” the liaison repeated, “and they’ve recovered enough, we will allow visitation.”

Now this was just getting on his nerves.

“Visitation is a basic right for any patient in any hospital. To be distracted from whatever’s happening, to feel normal, to feel okay and with a familiar face who knows what has happened and what they’ve been through. You would really deny that to your patients?”

He waited, watched. The liaison slumped their shoulders and took a deep breath.

“I wouldn’t. But my bosses would,” they said. “I’ve already tried everything. The answer is always the same.”

Scar sighed. Those folks in charge had no idea what had happened. Had no idea how to treat his friends. Sure, he didn’t know either, but at least he understood (kind of) what they were going through.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I hope I can say something different,” the liaison said. Scar had already turned their backs and walked away.

[capriciouswriter207]

Hermit-a-day (Day 2)

Welsknight - 1.5 days

“Stand down, soldier. It's over.”

Wels glared at the soldier that had given him this command. There was no malice in his voice, no condescension. Just a soldier, who saw a militant civilian with a gun they weren’t willing to put down and who tried to de-escalate. 

Stand down. It’s over.

Almost begrudgingly - yet with a deep sigh - he lowered the weapon. Wels did not allow them to take the weapon from him, though. It was a relief they didn’t force it out of his hands. He wasn’t sure what would have happened if they’d tried. Still, he knew why he still had a gun. He knew why they watched him like a hawk, ready to jump in should something unfortunate happen. What little faith did they have in him, to come to such rash conclusions.

Still, the words echoed through his mind. It’s over.

Was it, though?

The shadows had gone away. Home, some would say, but Wels didn’t know nearly enough to know that they indeed left. They had always been sneaky, near-incorporeal bastards. They were smart enough to evade him on his guard route. If the device that the scientist survivors had cobbled together had worked, then the shadows had indeed gone. If even one component hadn’t worked, however…

He’d seen a man stuck between human and shadow. He’d seen a woman pulled from the wreck, in utter agony at the world around her, screaming the whole time. He’d watched all the victims of the rifts and those afflicted with those nasty alien purple wounds be taken away separately, and the same happened to those scientists.

And every other survivor that the military came across.

Too early. It was too early to tell whether or not the threat had truly gone. If it hadn’t, he needed to be ready. If that readiness placed him under constant supervision, so be it. At least Wels knew what they were up against and he was ready to act.

[capriciouswriter207]

Hermit-a-day (Day 15)

xBCrafted - 53 days

xB stood in front of the shower.

His breathing became more ragged, his heartbeat more erratic. Nothing had happened yet. Nothing threatened him yet. And yet, the sight of the shower head sent cold shivers down his spine.

He couldn't move an inch.

Staring wouldn't help. Neither did blinking. Neither did watching and waiting to see what would happen. Neither did the scientist and his carer, watching from a safe yet not-too-far distance.

xB tapped the shower head and almost jumped back.

A bit of movement. One droplet slowly formed on the shower head. He watched it intently; watched it swell and swell until its weight compelled it to fall and splatter against the wall.

The water's nice.

xB stupbled backwards. That once comforting thought - the one that had dominated him in Hermiton's waters - now was little less than a nightmare come alive, a ghost come to haunt him. To possess him once more.

“No…”

The water's nice.

“No, it's not,” he muttered under his breath as he pressed his trembling body against the locked door. He did not pass through the door as he'd hoped, as he tried to get away from the water that tried to get him.

The door opened. xB fell. He quickly pulled himself up and stumbled onwards, away from the shower head.

“We'll try again another time,” his carer said.

xB nodded. Another time. When the water didn't want to pull him back in.

[capriciouswriter207]

Hermit-a-day (Day 18)

Alternate Universe - evil Hermitgang

Nobody dared to touch Doc, other than Grian, for good reason. The mad genius of Team Star, the city’s prime supervillain team, lived in the Star fortress himself - that's where his lab was. Backed by the rather influential NHO, he was able to do as he pleased. Politicians knew what he was capable of and left him alone, lest the consequences would fall upon them. Common folk kept a wide berch, and the police turned a blind eye. Nobody crossed the mad Doc, for they knew the same fate would befall them sevenfold.

Amongst the people walked a man, unknowable and observant. Wels was a kind office worker, a friend you’d grab a beer with, an easy smile on his face. Disarming and charming, he somehow managed to keep up with more than a dozen friends in all sorts of professions - construction workers, colleagues from work, a pilot and a politician, among others - and met with them as often as possible. Thry more than loved to spill the beans, and Wels more than loved to gently steer the conversation. And, when they eventually spoke about Team Star or the G-Team, all that news would inevitably make it back to his actual colleagues of Team Star.

Deep beneath the city, in its underbelly, stood an old throne with faded leathers and discolored gold. The lady False occupied that throne, her face obscured by a dark facemask and a pair of goggles, and looked over her criminal empire. She didn’t fear anyone - the Queen of Heads, Hearts and Body Parts had nothing to fear or worry about. Who would even dare to lift a finger against her? Only the fool who did not realize they would either be dead or hospitalized before they could finish the thought.

Some people have been suspecting that Impulse is a part of Team Star for a while now. He’d always laughed it off - he was just a simple engineer, why would he be a part of it? Don’t mind the heavy weaponry found in his atelier, or the stuff that could easily be found in a spy’s arsenal. Perhaps that could not dissuade you, but do not worry - only those with the strongest suspicions ever snoop around, and they never last long. The only one smart enough to hold his tongue had already gone into hiding, nowhere to be found. So, no, Impulse is not a part of Team Star. You silly goose.

Public figures have power, and Xisuma knew that like no other. He worked hard for the power that he had, and the people adored him for it. The crowds lined the streets and city blocks where one of his concerts had been scheduled. From behind the DJ booth, he controlled the crowd perfectly. Seemingly innocuous chants integrated in his music slowly planted the seeds in their minds. Not for resistance, but acceptance of everything Team Star was doing and to shatter trust in the city’s government. And, best of all, he could further his cause in plain sight.

They say Team Star had lost a member to the G-Team. The city celebrated, and Team Star waited and plotted their revenge. Especially Rendog, the one accused of being killed by the enemy. Prior enthusiasm had landed him in a tricky situation only to be resolved by faking his death. Now, months later, he was ready to re-integrate into the city. Itching for some mayhem, for a grandiose reveal at the right moment (how he’d love to see their faces!) - yet, he bided his time. It had yet to come, and he only had one chance to get this right. The G-Team needed to quake in their boots.

[capriciouswriter207]

Hermit-a-day (Day 1)

Zedaph - 2 days

report: reunion

If you are reading through my notes, you either are connected to the operation concerning Hermiton, the government has declassified this information, or you’ve come across this through illicit means. Whatever the case, you will find all of my writings regarding what the government is calling the Hermiton Fallout. That name shows just how little our government understands what has been going on. Even us, we who have gone through it, barely understand, but at least we’ve lived through it. The Moontower Fallout would be a more fitting name for this incident.

Forty-six days ago, the Moontower fell. Rather, it was ripped in half by a large suspected multi-dimensional rift. This rift, as well as others that popped out throughout the destroyed city, was unsafe to stay around due to mutations and other, wildly varying side-effects. From these rifts, or mutated thereafter, came what we call ‘shadows’. These shadows scoured the city, searching for a way to return to their home, presumably on the other side of the major rift at the Moontower. They were largely non-hostile, unless interacted with, and thus best to be left alone with their attempts to potentially rebuild the Moontower.

A small group of scientists among the survivors have created a machine that would open this rift for long enough so that the shadows could return home and, afterwards, so that the rifts would close. This has been a successful, albeit taxing endeavor. The city, once closed off from the outside world, could be entered again. We were taken into custody, as survivors who either displayed a deeper understanding of what was going on or as a way to ensure that we were alright. Naturally, those who showed symptoms of mutations were taken into even more strenuous custody. From what I have been able to observe these past few days, this custody appears to lean closer to study and observation rather than any path leading towards healing or removal of these mutations. It has only been two days as of writing this report that the military has entered Hermiton, so perhaps the future will prove me wrong. I sincerely hope that it does.

In the meantime, I’ll play along. I’ve signed up as a scientist, and the military has welcomed me with open arms. It must be a dream for them, a survivor who has been in the thick of it joining forces with them. I’ll wear their labcoats, I’ll use their equipment. I’m staying close to Grian and Impulse and Tango and Mumbo and everyone else who has been affected negatively by the Moontower’s fallout. I will not abandon them. I refuse to do so.

Here’s to hoping the recovery goes well.

[capriciouswriter207]

Hermit-a-day (Day 17)

Joel - 7 days

Stupid army, stupid glass, stupid containment, stupid everything!

The search lights and distant voices had reignited Joel’s hope. Wandering the ruins for goodness knows how long, he’d almost lost his mind escaping the rubble of Hermiton. Each time he thought he’d almost succeeded, something turned him around and any progress was lost. The other survivors - the ones who stuck themselves in a building chasing the impossible - often tried to bring him there, too. Joel refused: he was getting out of Hermiton.

When the army found him, they brought him out of the city - what a sight to behold! - and immediately stuffed him in an unmarked, windowless van to be brought to an unmarked, windowless facility where they immediately put him in what resembled a hospital room, but which decidedly was not.

“Guys, I’m not radioactive!” Joel had yelled at the doctors and scientists and whatnots on the other side of a glass wall, clearly installed for observation purposes. “Maybe those other guys are, but I’m not. Let me out of here! I need to get to Lizzie.”

They did not respond, merely scrawled little notes on their stupid notepads. 

Days crawled by. Somehow, it made him wish he was back in the city. Back there, he actually had something to pass the time with. The food was at least better than what he had in the city, but that didn’t make the loneliness any less bearable.

The door opened outside of the designated meal times. Joel immediately stood up from his bed, ready to confront whoever dared step into his room.

One of the scientists. Someone walked behind him. Was he actually going mad or did he catch a glimpse of pink hair?

“You have been cleared,” the scientist said. Joel hadn’t bothered to learn their name. “You are free to go.”

The scientist stepped aside. Joel’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t been imagining things.

Wordlessly, Lizzie ran into the room and almost tackled him. He caught her, held her close for what felt like an eternity. The smell of her hair hit him like nostalgia; he buried his face into it. She was crying; soon, he was too.

It was over. He was home.

[capriciouswriter207]

Hermit-a-day (Day 16)

Cubfan135 - 2 days

Cub sat down, folded his hands in front of him. He looked at the folks in front of him. Scientists, if their attire matched their profession. A five-headed counsel, watching him with bated breath from behind the glass wall that separated them.

Of course they could not be in the same room. Of course they couldn't breathe the same air. Yet, what he could offer them superseded the quarantine. They may focus on his slight purple glow and his extra finger, among others.

“You have survived in Hermiton?”

Cub nodded. “I have.”

“And you say you have been studying the phenomenon that has sealed you in - known as the rift?”

“From up close, yes.”

“...we can tell.”

“What did you observe?” another asked.

“They were stable rifts,” Cub explained. “If you looked at them, they look like portals. Some sort of purple energy swirled inside.”

“Could you see through it?”

“I couldn’t. But there did seem to be something on the other side.”

“How can you be certain about that?”

“Because the shadows wanted to go to the other side.”

Silence. Stunned silence, even. Cub wasn’t surprised. All of the shadows had gone home before the military arrived.

“Tell us more about these ‘shadows’.”

[capriciouswriter207]

Hermit-a-day (Day 7)

Skizzleman - 4 days

Skizz paced the hallways. He’d started to ignore the commands to sit still. What were they gonna do, restrain him? They were trained well enough, yes, but they had to know that it wasn't a good sign if one of the survivors started to shout about being denied access to his friends.

At least, if he shouted even more about it than he already had.

A scientist walked past him, off to their next patient. They looked straight ahead, trying their very best not to instigate any argument. Already Skizz was glaring at this scientist or doctor or whatever they claimed to be. Already Skizz was biting his tongue, because yelling and acting out wasn’t going to change anything.

He needed his question to receive a different answer.

“So, when can I see Impulse?” Skizz asked when the scientist had passed him.

“When it’s safe to do so,” they echoed everyone else that Skizz had ever asked that question to. Skizz groaned in frustration and sat down on the chair with a huff. It didn’t take long before he stood up and started pacing again.

How long was this going to take? 

He needed to see his buddy. He needed to see them all, Impulse and Tango and Grian and all the rest. He was just as surprised as he was frustrated when Scar didn’t show up this morning - didn’t he care? Was it that easy to give up? 

Skizz wasn’t giving up. Nobody knew what the military’s patients had gone as well as he did. He was going to sit by Impulse’s bedside and keep him company if it was the last thing he did.

Another scientist. When Skizz locked eyes with him, Zedaph quickened his pace to get to where he needed to go. He looked cleaner. Wore one of those same lab coats.

“Zed–”

“I’m trying my best,” Zed responded as he passed by. “Gotta go. Sorry.”

“Well, try faster!” Skizz called after him. Then, a few moments later, muttered: “Traitor.”

He’s trying to help, the exhausted voice in Skizz’s mind tried to argue. He’s able to go where we can’t go. He can keep an eye out for us.

Still, jealousy gripped him, no matter how much he tried to swallow it. Pacing down the hallway, his steps echoing, all but confirmed these seething feelings.