#expop au

[noxeswritingblog]

More stuff with the reagent duo

@lucasmagicfox I don't really like how this one turned out but whatever. Maybe I'll redo it sometime

They'd thrown him in here and left.

How long had it been? It felt like hours lying on the cold floor, but who knows... it could've been minutes.

Every little movement sent pain up his legs, the new braces causing more problems than they supposedly solved.

The sedation had yet to wear off, and he felt too tired to move, if he even wanted to.

This had to be some sort of hell. There was no way he was alive... right?

The door opened briefly.

Already? Had it been that long?

"Uhf!"

A thud, then the door closed. Subsequent banging on said door followed after that.

"Get back here! I'll fucking kill you!"

His eyes snapped open. He recognized that voice.

"...Conan..?"

The banging stopped.

"Daniel!"

Conan dropped to his knees next to his friend immediately.

He tried to sit him up, but Daniel hissed in pain, and Conan froze.

"Danny... what'd they do to you?"

"They put these... damn things on, and it hurts."

His body shuddered, and he began to cry.

"It fucking hurts, Conan. Every movement, every twitch, it hurts so bad, and... and I'm cold. I'm so cold."

"Danny... we gotta move you just a little. That can't be comfortable - plus getting you off the floor might warm you up a little."

"It'll hurt..."

"Not for long. Promise. Come on, help me a bit."

Daniel couldn't move much without being in pain, so they settled on sitting up long enough to put Conan's jacket on him.

After a break, he laid back down, resting his head in Conan's lap.

"This might be the last time we see each other."

It was Daniel who acknowledged it, though the thought had been on both their minds since the beginning.

Conan silently continued to brush through Daniel's hair with his fingers.

"I'm sorry I'm in such a state for it."

"Don't be. It's not your fucking fault - it's theirs."

"Conan-"

"It's true. We both know it is! We don't even know why."

Daniel sighed.

"Please don't fight them. They'll just make it worse on you."

"I have to try, Daniel, I-"

"They'll sedate you, and do horrible things to you like they did to me! Don't do this to yourself."

Conan remained silent.

"Please. Just play nice."

"...Fine. Just once."

They ended up falling asleep like that, and when Conan woke up again, Daniel was gone.

The guilt gave way to frustration, like always.

If he'd just been awake, he could've prevented them from taking him again. At least tried, if nothing else!

The door swung open.

"You're coming with me."

He wanted to bite, and kick, and scream, but...

True to his word, he didn't fight. Maybe they'd make it easier on Daniel, not him. He didn't care about himself.

He just wanted his friend to feel better again.

[noxeswritingblog]

Cell angst after conans abduction

@lucasmagicfox

Some description of injuries, angst

How much time had passed since he'd been thrown in here..?

His chest ached, and his breathing was ragged.

The fresh wounds on his legs prevented him from pacing the cell as he normally would. The brace, freshly implemented as a punishment, was cinched on his lower leg, screwed down to the bone.

His arms were restrained, not unsimilar to the fashion of a straitjacket.

He wanted to call out, ask if those sick fucks were enjoying this, or yell in pain when he shifted, but he couldn't.

They'd stitched his mouth shut.

"Learned your lesson yet, boy?"

He glared at the guard to the best of his ability.

He was tired, the sedative still in effect, though wearing off at this point.

"Quit givin' me that look, or I won't give you use of your arms again."

While he didn't stop the glaring, He redirected it to the floor and grunted.

The guard, who he was vaguely familiar with by now - the bastard accompanied that damn doctor everywhere - unfastened the straps holding his arms in place.

"Behave, or you'll have some more in store for you."

The guard exited, and Conan stretched his arms out. With the way he was hurting, he must've been stuck like that for hours, if not longer.

With nothing else to do, he began to study the cell again, counting meaningless things. How many ceiling tiles there were, bolts in the doorframe, screws on the brace...

His leg throbbed, and with the tiniest shift, white hot pain flared up yet again.

He made some sort of a noise - a strangled cry of pain, maybe - and forced himself to quiet, the stitching pulling again.

Some amount of time passed again, and that guard opened the door again.

Was he grinning...?

"Congratulations. You've got some company for a few hours."

Someone else was thrown in, the door slammed shut.

Conan's eyes widened in recognition, his friend's familiar face looking at him in fear.

He scrambled over, ignoring the pain shooting up his leg and the soreness of his body in favor of seeing his dear friend again.

"Conan!"

He grabbed Daniel and pulled him into an embrace. Daniel held on just as tight, if not tighter.

He was also the first to pull away, bringing his hands to the sides of Conan's face and holding him gently.

"They... they... I thought they'd killed you. I never thought they'd do... this."

Carefully, he moved one of his hands, tracing over the stitching with a finger.

"Conan... is this the first time?"

He shook his head. Daniel sighed.

"Second?"

Conan held up three fingers.

"Third. You've torn the stitching before?"

A nod, and something akin to a grunt of affirmation.

"Why? To spite them? In pain, or fear?"

Daniel sighed.

"Don't answer that. I know you can't without tearing them again. I don't want you to do that."

"Mhm."

They spent whatever time they had together, leaned up against the wall. Daniel talked, and Conan listened - while it wasn't like before, any time spent together was a relief from whatever the hell was planned for them.

The door opened an unknown amount of time later, and that guard - again - entered, this time with the doctor.

"1313. Sorry to break up the reunion, but we need you."

The guard grabbed him, fending off a weak attack from Daniel and shoving him back against the wall.

Conan tried to yell, to bark an insult and fight again, but he was grabbed and picked up before he could, and the doctor administered a sedative.

"Conan!"

"Hopefully you enjoyed your time together!"

The doctor laughed, seemingly gleeful that he got to watch Daniel despair.

The two of them left with Conan again, and Daniel was left alone.

[noxeswritingblog]

Another one, another one

@lucasmagicfox

Canon typical violence, mental stress etc.

Reversed meeting! If Daniel had been taken first rather than conan

"Conan!"

The door burst open, smacking against whatever had been sitting in that corner.

He jerked awake, sitting bolt upright, disheveled.

"What the hell!"

He rubbed his eyes, interrupted by whoever was shaking him by the shoulders.

"Hey!"

"Listen to me! They took Daniel!"

Conan shoved them off and stared at them.

"You're playing a sick joke, man-"

"I'm not. I swear! We got back from escalation, and they took him!"

His eyes widened, and he stood.

"You didn't stop them?!"

"We tried - we couldn't stop them. I swear."

He took a moment to comprehend this, and sat back down on the edge of the bed.

"..."

"Listen, all we can do is wait and see what happens now. Maybe he'll be back in a few hours."

Yeah. Yeah. He'd be back - he never did anything wrong, and his trial grades were good.

They wouldn't keep him.

"Right. He'll be back."

"Let's do a trial or something, take your mind off it. Okay?"

"Alright. Just... give me a few minutes."

They did a few trials that day, and continued the routine. Slowly, though, it became evident that Daniel was not coming back.

Conan began to lash out, threatening other reagents and staff, getting sedated due to his outbursts. They hurt him when he got too riled up.

Saur was getting worried.

"You've gotta quit doing this to yourself."

Daniel used to keep track of him; remind him to be careful and take care of him after sedation.

Conan huffed, glaring up at Saur.

"How can I? They took him. They did something to him! It's been a month - he's not coming back."

"Just..."

To be honest, Saur thought Conan was right. It had been too long.

"We can't keep this up, Saur."

"We have to. For him."

Conan looked to the ground, overcome with sadness.

"Come on. Let's try to get through a trial today. We can't stay sedentary - they might take us, too."

"Fine."

They chose Cleanse the Orphans, and off they went.

The shuttle ride was silent save for a quiet "Are you okay?" asked by Saur, which was ignored by Conan, who shut his eyes and sighed.

It was only standard, a warm up for the day.

The radio frequencies in the dorms were easy, and soon, they were venturing down to the classrooms to replace the film reels.

"There's one in 3 and one in 2. I'll take this over to 2."

"Right."

Saur vanished into the dark hall, and Conan moved to take the reel to room 3.

With the reel placed in the window, he turned, ready to head into the classroom.

He was struck immediately, the handle of something striking him in the temple and sending him to the ground.

He fell back, and scrambled into the light.

He froze as the grunt followed him out.

"...Daniel?"

Headgear had replaced the goggles, screwed into various points on his head, digging into his skin. Healed scars and new wounds were scattered across his exposed skin.

There was a brace on his right arm, freshly bloodied. It was new.

The two on his legs - a full on his left, a partial on his right - were older, and beginning to rust already. The screws and pins were driven in crudely, and some were bent.

Perhaps punishment of some sort.

Despite Conan's hope of some sort of recognition, his eyes remained lifeless and cold.

"Daniel!"

He swung - Conan jumped back.

"Come on, man, it's me! Don't you recognize me anymore?!"

Another swing. It grazed him this time.

Their objective updated, the radio crackled with new instructions. Saur must've finished switching the reels.

"Daniel! Please!"

This time, the swing connected, and Conan fell back.

He was overtaken in a second, his old friend now shoving him back onto the ground as he attempted to get up.

Conan grabbed his arms, preventing the blade from reaching his head. The point was inches away from his forehead, and one slip up would seal his fate.

"Daniel... please... it's me...!"

He was crying. Why was he crying? When did that start?

Saur appeared with a yell, kicking Daniel off and dragging Conan to his feet, yelling at him to run.

In a daze, he followed Saur to the lobby, and turned to look back once they'd stopped running.

"That... that was..."

He sniffled, and brought an arm up to wipe his eyes.

"Conan..."

He fell to his knees, letting out a wail of despair.

Saur let it happen, knowing it was better not to stand in the way of Conan's emotions, no matter what they might be.

It was up to debate whether Saur should leave and finish the trial or drag Conan along.

On one hand, they'd complete it and get the hell out, and hopefully give him time to recover.

On the other hand... Conan had a penchant for doing stupid things. He might try to go back and get Daniel to recognize him, which would probably end in tragedy - one way or another.

After a moment of consideration, Saur dragged him up and along, trying to utter reassurances along the way.

The rest of the trial went smoothly, and they were out before they knew it.

It wasn't surprising that Conan retreated to his room after that, lying down and most likely reliving the events that had transpired in the trial.

Saur attempted to get through to him, but it was a fruitless effort.

In the days following, Conan only became more violent.

More outbursts, more harm, more sedation. Eventually, it resulted in him being taken away, kicking and screaming as Saur and some others watched.

There was no way he'd be coming back.

[noxeswritingblog]

Daniel centric post for @lucasmagicfox

Part of the expop au

No direct tw but mentions of physical harm/torture, mental health issues/brainwashing

It took a month.

It took a month to go from a broken down, weak, sniveling mess into a living machine.

Day one was nothing more than a physical exam - determining whether or not he was still a viable subject.

He was left restrained, to sit and panic as a sort of mental torture. His thoughts were racing, and a few times he launched into anxiety attacks, struggling against the restraints.

Day two was removal of the ESOP and goggles, ripping them off with no warning and no pain relief. Blood dripped down his face and was left to dry.

They began to test him mentally, and turn his own thoughts against him. Brainwash him, get him to comply.

Two weeks were spent building back up. Sustenance, vitamins, muscle - getting Daniel back to his old self physically, and then some.

Dr. Whiteford. He administered every drug, and he did so with some sick, twisted happiness that disturbed Daniel more than some of the trials.

Everyone here was crazy. It was just a matter of which side of the glass you wound up on.

Surgeries followed. Strengthening of his bones using rods, and adding braces to his legs and arms.

If he resisted, or screamed, or cried, extra pins or screws would be added, with a promise of removal if he behaved.

The times they were added and removed was countless, until eventually he stopped struggling, stopped screaming in agony and crying in fear.

They had a hold mentally. He was submitting.

By a month, they'd made significant progress.

He was broken, and pliant - now was the fun part.

Dr. Whiteford returned, gleeful to test his concoctions on the new grunt once known as Daniel.

His old mentality was gone. Humanity stripped and stomped on until it was broken entirely.

With everything said and done, despite being a new grunt, he was deployed into the trials and proved very successful.

A coward gaining confidence, but only after losing his humanity.

How... unfortunate.