Summary: Oriole met a porter on the roads. They talked a bit, he offered the spare room in the safehouse to her for the night, and she took it gladly. The next morning, she waved him off with a thanks and goodbye, and that was the entirety of their interaction. So why did Higgs seem so damn upset about it?
Pairing: Higgs Monaghan x OC
Word Count: ~1.2k
Content Warnings: Nothing explicit, but Higgs is very controlling and possessive in this one. Ori is lowkey into it, they're a very unhealthy couple. Background character death. Implied established relationship.
[[A/N: Author Allie here. Hope you enjoy!]]
-----
Higgs comes to see her right as she exits the temporary safehouse. She didn’t usually use them, but a traveling porter that she’d spoken with on the roads had been there. He was kind enough to offer the spare room to her, and she took it gladly. The next morning, she showered and headed back out, thanking the man with a warm smile and a polite goodbye. That was the entirety of their interaction.
Yet… as soon as she’d gone up the lift and rounded the corner of the sharp cliff face, away from prying eyes, Higgs was right there, already pushing into her personal space.
“Oh-!” A startled little gasp escaped her at the sudden presence, backing away out of instinct. Had he teleported there right as she rounded the corner, or had he been lying in wait for her? “Hi- hey. What’re you doing here?” She cut herself off from uttering his name, lowering her voice, unsure of how far that other porter was.
"Never mind all that, dove,” He waved off her question quite literally, one hand gesturing as if he were swatting away a fly. He leaned against the cliff casually, one leg crossed over the other. “Who was that man you were so buddy-buddy with back there? Friend of yours?"
Oriole narrowed her eyes a little, reading the real meaning under his words. She couldn’t see his face under his dual masks, but she could hear it. He masked it with a confident smirk in his voice and a lighthearted tone, as though he were asking her about the weather - but there’s an edge there. Something sharp hidden under that smile that Ori might step on if she weren’t careful.
As always, when faced with something threatening, she defaulted to lightening the mood - so she tilted her head, a coy smile playing on her painted lips, and casually adjusted the strap of her guitar case over one shoulder.
“Awh, is someone jealous?” She teased lightly. “Well, a little bit of jealousy can be cute, I guess.”
“Ohh, you don’t wanna play that game, sweetheart,” he pushed himself off the cliff face with ease, stalking towards her slowly, palms raised as if to show he wasn’t hiding anything… It was all just appearances.
She smirked. “It was only a porter, Higgs.” She used his name now, quietly, to soothe him.
“Mmh. Porter.” The word sounded bitter on his tongue. “Seemed awful friendly, the way he smiled at you. The way you smiled back.”
She knew the danger coiled under his words, so she took the initiative to close the gap, one quick step forward to enter his orbit. He didn’t flinch, didn’t back away, and she quickly leaned up on her toes to put a chaste kiss against his mask, never taking her eyes off of his through the glass holes of the gasmask underneath. She must have scrunched up her face then, because Higgs’s blue eyes narrowed, and she let out a quiet laugh.
“You know I hate kissing that mask of yours.”
The chiralium-gold skull that he wore over his gas mask would leave the feeling of a cold burn on her lips, tingling for a few seconds after contact. She hated it, hated the way the chiralium made her feel nauseous. She would kiss it anyway, in an effort to alleviate his nerves - his possessive jealousy.
He lifted one gloved hand up to grip the golden mask delicately, pulling it off without any difficulty. She wasn’t sure how it worked, what kept the mask attached to him and how he could remove it so easily, other than some vague DOOMS powers he had.
“So kiss the real thing, then,” he cooed out almost gently enough to make Oriole believe that it was just a game to him. He pulled up his gas mask afterwards, until his bare face was revealed to her, a little smile playing at his lips. His eyes were intense, focused only on her. This wasn’t just a kiss, it was a test. Something she’d done had burned him, and he was looking to her to balm that wound. If she didn’t - it would only grow worse.
But still, she didn’t feel any force when she lifted her hands to pull his face down to hers. When she kissed him, gentle and tender, she never once thought, I have to do this. She kissed him deliberately, willingly. With a smile.
She held the kiss for another moment, then pulled away slowly. His hands were on either side of her face, caging her in.
“Better?” She whispered against his lips.
His grin widened, his thumbs grazing the hair falling in front of her eyes.
“Relax, Songbird. Just askin’ a question,” he played it off as if she were the one feeling territorial, as if she’d been the one needing reassurance. “I like knowin’ who’s sniffing around what’s mine, is all.”
Mine. The word made her smile, and she turned her face away, feeling shy suddenly. Higgs laughed aloud at that, putting his mask back on. With one last, long look into her eyes - he was suddenly gone in a cloud of chiral-tinged wind.
Later, much later, she’d replay the memory of that word. After she heard about that porter’s sudden death.
He’d wandered into BT territory, they said. How was he supposed to know the weather would take a sudden turn while he was too far from shelter to hide? It was just a tragic accident, they said. The risks of the job. He knew what he was getting himself into, they said.
When she was alone in her own safehouse again, she sat in the dimming light of the afternoon sunlight flooding into her bedroom. Sitting on her favorite chair, she stared out a window and clutched a mug of tea close, relying on its warmth. She felt oddly cold.
If it had been anyone else, any other random porter, she could have brushed it off as just an incident. The weather was unpredictable sometimes, and BTs sprouted up wherever they damn well pleased these days. But him? That man specifically, reaching such an incidental fate? One that relied on so many “it came out of nowhere”s? A rock settled in her gut. She knew better - she knew it wasn’t a mistake. She knew a man who could call timefall forward and control BTs, and who didn’t look so favorably on that random porter.
The weight in her chest wouldn’t lift. Oriole had never been the most selfless or good hearted of people, but, in spite of what her brother spat out when she wasn't around to hear, she wasn’t a murderer. There was an odd stillness to the room as she realized the man was dead because of her.
Not because of her exactly, it wasn’t her own actions that led up to it. No, she knew who was behind it. For what? For showing her a bit of kindness, a bit of companionship?
He did it for her. She was sure of it. That knowledge twisted something in her heart, made her feel some stirrings of emotion that she wasn’t familiar enough with to name. It was equal parts protection and possession. Devotion and threat.
Some wordless statement of, I take care of what’s mine.
“Mine.” She replayed his voice saying that word in her head, tasting it on the tip of her tongue. She sipped her tea. The warmth spread through her body, a flush on her cheeks. Her lips curled up in a little smile. Mine.
A Way Through
25cm x 17.6cm
Gouache on gouache paper
For my last painting of 2021 (I will be taking a break tomorrow), I have picked, as reference, the mountains and hills that sat in between Capital Knot City and the incinerator, through which Sam must make his very last (and very emotional) delivery.
I actually didn't realise this would be my last painting for the year and I didn't realise the reference I picked was from Sam's last delivery until I started writing this and now putting these two together, it dawned on me how cool it was that these two sort of came together. I swear, I was only looking to paint something pretty with gouache.
But yeah, 2021 has been quite a journey and it is only fitting that I leave it with this little painting.
Now with 2022 on the horizon, I am quite nervous about what lurks around the bend. Let's wait and see what sort of creature we will have to deal with next. Swords and spears and guns and crossbows and arrows and lasers and lightsabers and any other weapons of choice at the ready, guys! We got this!
Mr kojima finally has his mpreg dream game and not only that the madman got mads mikkelsen on it so this pretty much tell me that all dreams come true if you work had enough for it
Hideo Kojima quer "criar jogos que mudam em tempo real"
Hideo Kojima quer “criar jogos que mudam em tempo real”
Em entrevista à revista japonesa An An, Hideo Kojima colocou suas ideias na mesa e disse qual seu novo objetivo quanto ao desenvolvimento dos jogos. O diretor-executivo da Kojima Productions disse que quer criar jogos que “mudam em tempo real”.
Pensando fora da caixa, o designer acredita que os jogos devem ser jogados de forma única por cada pessoa, tentando alcançar algo como: “que o jogo mude…
