May I see uh, what would Foundational Ethics (O5-1 and O5-3) think of Icegears? I mean, I hope at least one of them would be like happy that they get together, though I don't know if it's 1 or 3
“Now Power Down, Sass-Robot!” The Blackbird yelled at Founder, his bowler hat askew on his head. He was about to shout another thing when the Founder’s metal fist slammed into his jaw, knocking him to the floor.
“Founder, I swear to God!” Tamlin shouted, helping the Blackbird back to his feet.
“He deserved it!” Founder shouted back, sporting a furious scowl and bruised ego. Not Five minutes ago, Blackbird, the new O5-5 after Manifest had retired, had begun to insult MEKHANE. Founder, filled with anger and offense, started the shouting match that led to Blackbird trying to regain his bearings, held upright by Tamlin.
“Now everyone, how about we calm down just a tad? Before you know, Founder kills someone? We all remember when that Broken Church priest called him a heretic?” Seven said, their smile extending off of their face in mildly-irritated glee.
“I should’ve remembered that.” Blackbird said, nursing his jaw. The red beginnings of a bruise had begun to form, marring his rounded jawline. He laughed, making to clap Founder on the shoulder, nearly falling again in the process.
Founder stepped back, avoiding the gloved hand with a rattle of bones. Blackbird stabilized after a few moments, picking his bowler hat up from the floor.
“Hey, I’m allowed to diss MEKHANE, me and Teeth knew her. You don’t want to know the gossip we have on ‘em.” He grinned as Founder’s eyes widened fractionally, sweeping from Blackbird to Teeth, who was desperately trying to rein in their grin. Their long-fingered hand tried to hold back the canines and molars that threatened to escape their mouth.
“Well Friends, how about you tell me some of this…Gossip.” One said, voice tinted with a sharp, metallic edge. Teeth and Blackbird exchanged glances, unsure if they should speak. Founder arched an eyebrow, waiting calmly for them to talk as an awkward silence enveloped the present Overseers.
“Uhm… You’re not cleared to know?” Blackbird tried, shying back a step when the cloaked Overseer examined his knuckles in a semi-threatening gesture.
“Fine! But you wouldn’t like what we have to say!” Teeth raised their hands above their head in exasperation.
“Try me.” Founder said as Tamlin and Way swiftly exited the room, sensing the tension. Three remained, having the feeling that he would have to diffuse a fight if Founder couldn’t control his fervor.
“All right, Founder, we’re gonna need you to calm down, if only for a moment.” They dragged a chair up to Founder, his eyebrow still raised. He tentatively took the seat, Teeth standing while Blackbird leaned against the conference table. Three stood in the background, fingers gently toying with his nails. “The first thing to know is that MEKHANE never created the human race. Nor Yaldabaoth. The Human race is an unknown. However. She did adopt them and sacrificed herself for them.”
Founder nodded gently, his mechanisms exponentially growing faster.
“Calm down, try not to meltdown now. She may not be the Creator, but she is a Savior. Either way, the Human race owes her.” Blackbird says, crossing his arms as Founder’s mechanisms began to slow down.
“Secondly, MEKHANE and Yaldabaoth have not always been enemies,” Teeth said, stroking their chin thoughtfully, “I don’t know how to describe it… Nothing fits it. Maybe romance. They existed in tandem, attracting opposites as they say.”
“Romance!” Founder shouted, outrage coloring his eyes red.
“I wouldn’t call it that exactly. They circled the other scared of any form of commitment, of what it would mean for them and the other. Of what could happen. It’s not too unlike what you and Philosopher have!” Seven was so caught up in their speech that they hadn’t realized what they said before it was a few seconds too late.
Silence descended on the room once again as Founder and Philosopher looked at each other. Founder’s eyes were wide and scared, and Philosopher’s were mortified, desperately trying to avoid Founder’s carmine gaze. Teeth swore under their breath, eyes turning from One to Three. One tried to stutter out a response, and finding that he couldn’t, turned to exit the room. His cloak whispered and rattled behind him as he swiftly walked away. Three sat down heavily, fingers tapping a staccato rhythm on the wooden table.
After a moment, he spoke:
“What have you done?” It was calm, entirely too calm. Goosebumps ran up Blackbirds back as the eerily cool voice left the man’s mouth. “Everything was fine. He knew nothing! Nothing! Would this be cause for Censure? Clouded judgement?” He was about to continue when Blackbird interrupted him loudly.
“Clouded judgement? If dating a coworker was grounds for censure, then there would be no one in this damned council! Lesser and Cowboy, Teeth and Tamlin, even Archivist and Outsider! And you’re foolish if you think that One doesn’t feel the same.”
“But O5’s aren’t allowed-”
“All those rules were Administrator-made! Need I remind you that we killed the Administrator! Ripped the heart from it’s blackened carapace! We make our own rules.” Blackbird gestured vaguely to the few O5s in the room before Teeth spoke.
“So pull yourself together. I would hate to see you and Founder end up like MEKHANE and Yaldabaoth. Now go.” Both them and Blackbird turned, leaving Philosopher alone in the room with the open door that Founder has strode through.
Founder hissed in pain as his tweezers missed the wire, hitting synthetic muscle. He sat in his office, tinkering with his arm to distract his thoughts from what Teeth had told Philosopher. He startled as a tentative knock came from the door, and he swore under his breath.
“Argentum, I sure hope that this isn’t another meeting.” The only reply was the sound of the door opening hesitantly. Founder turned, and the pliers dropped from his hands as they went numb.
O5-3, the Philosopher Scientist, stood in the doorway. His hand toyed anxiously with the wings of his caduceus-cane, ever-restless. Before One could say anything, Three held out his hand, motioning for One’s silence.
“One, before you ask, I’m not mad. I… I didn’t know how you felt. It took Teeth of all people to tell me about this…” He faded into silence, eyes turning to hands. Founder looked as well, taking in the Philosopher’s hands not for the first time.
They were long and covered in scars, jagged lines that marred his skin. The flesh and cuticles around his fingernails were ripped and torn, obviously self-inflicted. Anyone could tell the state of his affairs by the state of his hands. They were the only things that could betray his emotions.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that…” He screwed his eyes shut briefly, taking in a deep breath, “It’s okay… Fuck.” He rubbed his chin, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. Founders clockwork had sped up, coloring his cheeks blue instead of the red of Philosophers. “I’m not angry or disgusted. What I worry about now is you.”
“I’m… I’m free on Thursday after Six o’clock.” Founder suggested, aware of the awkwardness that infused the room. He mentally cursed himself for being that forward, even if it was just a suggestion.
“That sounds good… Um, where should we meet?” His unoccupied hand reached up to scratch at his shoulder. Founder didn’t know when he had stood up.
“I mean, I can cook decently. I’ve picked up some tricks in my time you know.” They both stopped for a moment, simply looking at each other.
“Founder, I know this may be a bit awkward, but is it okay if I kiss you?” At that moment, he realized how close they had gotten, breaths mingling in the space between them.
“I would not be averse.” Founder replied, his hand reaching out to gently caress the Philosopher’s cheek. When their lips connected, Philosopher was surprised by how warm the Founder’s lips were, less warm than human, but not cold.
Philosophers lips were dry, but not chapped, Founder thought. They tasted like some form of lip-chap, a flavor he couldn’t quite place. Maybe eucalyptus. Philosopher gripped Founder’s cloak when they pulled apart, the only sounds being the gentle rhythm of clockwork and Philosopher’s panting.
“Definitely wasn’t awkward.” The Japanese man said, his hand running along Founder’s spine. He felt each vertebra, mentally counting them as Founder closed his eyes, sighing softly.
“I might have to thank Teeth when I see them next.” He rested his head in the crux of Philosopher’s neck, simply taking in the heat of the other Overseer.
They stayed exactly like that for several minutes, simply holding each other and speaking quietly. Neither was used to the almost casual affection they were showing the other at the moment. They finally broke apart when Founder’s phone rang, informing him of the latest anomaly contained. Philosopher left with an exchange of a few quiet words, a confirmation to their date on Thursday, leaving Founder to turn back to his desk and the stacks of paperwork that covered it.
He reached for his pen, arm stopping in the air. Gently, he moved it up to his lips, the phantom feeling of Philosopher’s kiss still enduring. Shaking his head, he gripped his pencil and began the paperwork.
The initial little caption thing doesn’t really capture what this is supposed to be bc I wrote it and then drew the latter two but I can’t really verbally express what it is supposed to be in general so just. Take them ig? Look at it for a while? Idk
