𝐁Ⓧ𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

a multi-muse blog for armageddonfm

[buriedwithit]

it's momentarily pleased that it finally has seemed to say something that doesn't upset her, but... that moment is short-lived. everything is so prone to changing in reality that it threatens to make their head spin! "i don't know enough about anything to make one. i think i'd need help. i don't know what a vampire is. i don't think i'm a ghost... maybe that's one i can cross off? i met with someone who knew ghosts. they didn't think i was one either. at first they did... but for some reason they changed their mind." it frowns, brow creasing. "i don't remember why they changed their mind." so caught up in the idea of that list are they that they don't immediately recognize the question. when it does hit... that actually doesn't clear up anything at all. "ummm..." trailing off, it admits. "sort of? i have someone researching me to figure it out. does that count?"

[uncny-ba]

Martha raised an eyebrow so high it practically disappeared into her hairline, her scowl somehow deepening as she crossed her arms over her chest. ❝ Well, at least we know you're not a ghost, ❞ she muttered with enough sarcasm to poison a river. ❝ Because I can see you. And I've never been able to see ghosts. Not since... ❞ she stopped herself, jaw tightening before she looked away. Then he mentioned someone changing their mind about him not being a ghost, and Martha let out a long, suffering sigh that sounded like her patience finally snapping. Without another word, she vanished in a blink. A second later, she reappeared just as suddenly, now holding a pen and a crumpled sheet of paper. ❝ Move, ❞ she grumbled, immediately starting to scribble furiously across it. ❝ Possible demon. Possible vampire. Not a ghost. Maybe human. Maybe alien. Maybe mutant. Unknown cryptid bullshit, ❞ the pen scratched violently as she added more items. ❝ You don't even know your mutation? Great. Just great... ❞ she shook her head, still writing. ❝ Who the hell gets someone to research what they are before figuring out the basics? You giving them the best head of their life or something? ❞

[drmothra]

Mo gave a little smirk at that remark. "That is very insightful of you-" Mo remarked. "I suppose I should be cognaizant of that in the future." There was a raise of their eyebrows at that remark.

There was a mild hum in response. "Only eating the necessities- reminds of a time in my life..." There was a sad smile remembering the days as Mothra. "I use to be someone that would sacrifice their wants and maybe more if meant ensuring..."Mo said trailing off. There was a pause a forced laugh. "Not saying I wouldn't but it's still an adjustment." Mo said staring at the sky. "How long has been snowing?" He asked changing the subject.

[uncny-ba]

Izumi glanced at him from the corner of her eye, the faintest hint of approval settling in her expression as he spoke of living on necessities alone. There was something familiar in that mindset, something disciplined, sharp, and quietly self-destructive. ❝ Most people spend their lives chasing what they want. Very few can convince themselves that they only need what is necessary. It requires a certain…resolve, ❞ her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before narrowing slightly. ❝ Why change? ❞ The question was simple, absent of judgment, but before he could answer, she followed his gaze toward the gray sky overhead. Snow drifted lazily across the landscape, gathering in white layers over everything it touched. Izumi turned fully, studying the horizon as though it might offer an answer, then after a brief silence, gave a small shrug and said dryly, ❝ Long enough for it to become a problem. Beyond that, I could not tell you. I'm not a weather girl. ❞

[buriedwithit]

"that's a good point." not that other points of hers haven't been good, but this feels like an actionable step. at the very least, something will be crossed out. even if that leaves an innumerable amount of answers in its wake, there will still be one less. that's something! that only makes the idea of a list seem more pertinent... but where to start? how in the world would anyone be able to help them fill something like that out? "no, i don't have a list," it admits, sheepish. "should i? i... i wouldn't know what to even put on it."

[uncny-ba]

Martha immediately straightened a little, looking entirely too pleased that he'd agreed with her. ❝ Oh, I know it's a good point, ❞ she said with a small nod, taking full ownership of the victory and completely ignoring every other part of the conversation. Then her expression soured again as she processed the rest of what he'd said. ❝ Wait, you don't have a list? ❞ A frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she shook her head, staring at him like he'd just admitted he didn't know how to tie his own shoes. ❝ How are you supposed to figure out what you are if you don't keep track of what you aren't? That's basic process of elimination! ❞ She waved a hand through the air as though the solution was obvious. ❝ Start with demon. Then vampire. Then human. Probably ghost somewhere in there. Maybe alien. Write them all down. Cross them off one at a time, ❞ her eyes narrowed thoughtfully before she abruptly pointed at him. ❝ Actually, what's your confirmed mutation? You do know that one, right? ❞

[drmothra]

Closed for @uncny-ba : Dealer's choice

The moth was staring at the rations. They weren't sure what food it was suppose to resemble, it smelled like a multivitamin but something....highly manufactured. Mo attempted to eat a polite bote before coughing at the repulsive chalky aftertaste. Mo looked up at the stranger with a shy look. "These rations....taste pretty vile." Mo said rubbing their neck. "Sorry for my dramatics."

[uncny-ba]

Izumi’s nose wrinkled faintly after another bite of the ration, though her expression never shifted far from its usual calm restraint. She turned the packet over once in her hand as though inspecting evidence from a crime scene before giving a quiet hum of agreement. ❝ You are not being dramatic, ❞ she said evenly, dark eyes lifting toward Mo. ❝ It tastes terrible. But that is usually the point with things like this. Long shelf life. High nutrition. Easy transport. Flavor becomes...irrelevant. ❞ There was the slightest pause before she took another bite regardless, disciplined enough to ignore the chalky bitterness settling on her tongue. ❝ No one enjoys surviving on necessities, ❞ Izumi added at last, voice carrying that detached practicality she wore like armor. ❝ But sometimes necessity is the only thing keeping people alive. ❞

[drmothra]

"You'd be surprised at what people cry about these days." Mo said with a cryptic yet sad smile. There was a slight chuckle. "You'd be the first to say the cold doesn't bother you- it certainly bothers me." Mo said with a shrug.

There was a slight snort mixed with the hum of a moth. "I apologize acquaintance." Mo said with a but of mock sincerity. Mo tilted their head. "Would you like a quick examination?"

Their eyes focused on their own water bottle, a softer look. The moth didn't realize how young the other was. "You enjoy sweets?" Mo asked trying to keep his compusure. They cleared their throat. "Thank you for placing your trust in me." Mo said with sincerity. They took a modest nibble of the sweet. "Would you like to observe?" Mo asked with an eyebrow quirk.

[uncny-ba]

Iselin rolled her eyes so hard it bordered on theatrical cruelty, though the motion lacked its usual sharpness by the end of it. ❝ People cry when they are weak, inconvenienced, or desperate for attention, ❞ she said dismissively, lifting a shoulder in a careless shrug at his complaints about the cold. ❝ And no, I cannot imagine being bothered by it. ❞ Yet the words sat strangely in her mouth afterward, leaving her quieter than before, gaze drifting toward nothing in particular as something colder settled beneath the surface. Perhaps it was not the cold itself she minded. Perhaps it was the way people looked at her when it followed. The blame. The fear. The immediate assumption that anything frozen must somehow be her fault. For a fleeting instant she wondered what it might feel like to actually cry over that sort of thing... Then immediately buried the thought beneath disdain. At his offer of an examination, she scoffed again, folding her arms tightly across her chest, ❝ Why would I need an examination? I am perfectly fine. Emphasis on perfect...and fine. ❞ Her composure cracked only for a moment at the mention of sweets, brows lifting with open interest before she gave a simple, regal nod. The gratitude earned little more than a lazy flick of her hand, dismissing it entirely, ❝ Yes, yes, you’re very noble, Doctor. ❞ Still, the offer to observe caught her attention enough to pull her fully back into the conversation, so she asked plainly, curiosity outweighing tact without the slightest hint of shame, ❝ Just one question: Will there be blood or screaming? ❞

[buriedwithit]

something just beyond a polite smile curls onto his face, not unlike a cat sheathing its claws. elias is cautious when dealing with mutants and has been for over half a century—old habits die hard, even when the troublesome ones are mostly outside of the city by now. "that's exactly what i was hoping you would say, my friend." clasping his hands together, he continues, "now, of course i don't expect you to arrange the whole affair by yourself. i'll have soldiers at your disposal from both one and six." one hand comes down on the map, tracing wavy line between the canyon that runs to his chosen location. "this man pathway will require the most of your attention. a scout picked up an old worm tunnel nearby. old, but you can never be too careful."

[uncny-ba]

Isaiah listened without interrupting, though the subtle narrowing of his eyes at the mention of the worm tunnel betrayed exactly where his attention settled. Elias’ caution toward mutants was not difficult to recognize. Men who spent decades surviving fear rarely learned how to fully hide it, no matter how polished their smiles became. Still, Isaiah remained composed, one hand resting lightly against the edge of the table as he studied the winding canyon route across the map. ❝ An old tunnel is still a tunnel, ❞ he said calmly. ❝ If the ground remembers the creatures that carved through it, then we proceed as though they may return at any moment. ❞ His gaze lifted from the marked pathway to Elias himself, steady and discerning. ❝ I recommend positioning Sector One soldiers along the canyon ridges and have Six reinforce the lower approach. If something emerges, civilians will have time to evacuate before panic spreads through the procession. ❞ A brief silence followed before Isaiah added, quieter but firmer, ❝ But if there is additional risk you have not yet disclosed to me, Councilor Carver, now would be the time. ❞

[buriedwithit]

"...oh." the more things go on, the less sense it all makes. it isn't certain what it's supposed to take seriously and what is meant as some kind of irony. irony and iron and iron-y are completely different. someone with some concept of earthly materials would have been able to make more sense of that too. if they aren't a demon, what are they? "so maybe they wouldn't be able to help me after all." pain is another concept that is foreign, just shy of unfamiliar... but the lessons there are easier to pick up. everything seems to avoid it. "i don't know what i am, either. do you think i should go and ask anyways?"

[uncny-ba]

Martha rolled her eyes immediately, waving one hand dismissively like she was already tired of how complicated this conversation had gotten. ❝ I mean, maybe it’d at least check something off your list, ❞ she muttered with a shrug. ❝ If the priest starts screaming and throwing holy water at you, then congratulations, mystery solved. ❞ Her scowl lingered, but curiosity had started creeping in around the edges now, reluctant and suspicious. She looked him over again, slower this time, before tilting her head slightly. ❝ Actually... Do you even have a list? Like, of what you could be? More importantly, what you already know you aren’t? ❞

[buriedwithit]

"very good, very good." his eyes linger over the cat-like gaze that isaiah shares before he continues. "i'm holding a special event. something that's... once in a life time, you could say. for that reason, i'll be holding it outside of the city." elias turns a chart of that section of the wastes around so that they can see it too. the site is well known, but abandoned. "as you know, that carries with it a certain amount of risk. i want to minimize that as much as i can... which is where you'll come in."

[uncny-ba]

Isaiah’s eyes lowered briefly to the map Elias turned toward him, studying the abandoned stretch of wasteland with the same quiet focus of a predator gauging unstable ground before the hunt. The location was familiar, too familiar, and the fact Elias intended to hold a gathering there spoke either of confidence or dangerous optimism. He straightened slowly, folding his hands behind his back as his gaze returned to the councilor, unreadable but sharp beneath the dim lights of the room. ❝ A once-in-a-lifetime event held beyond the city walls is not the kind of thing men forget, Councilor Carver, especially not in territory the wastes have already claimed, ❞ his eyes flicked once more to the chart before settling on Elias again, calm and assessing. ❝ You wish for me to keep order, or to prepare for the possibility that order will fail. ❞ Though phrased as a statement rather than a question, there was no challenge in his tone, only the measured gravity of a man already considering every outcome before agreeing to step into it. ❝ Your wish, as per Councilor Stokes, will be my command. ❞

[buriedwithit]

"...all of who? demons?" frowning, they wonder if that confirms it that they are some kind of demon. whatever a demon is. that part is still yet to be figured out, but someone will know and maybe then, finally, someone will be able to help. without much knowledge of emotion, the display of distrust by martha is a curiosity, but not something to dwell on. there are more important things at stake. "....confess something? no, i thought you said—" uncertain now, its frown deepens. "i thought you said they could help me. is that what an exorcism is?"

[uncny-ba]

Martha just stared at him for a long second, eyebrow slowly climbing higher the more he talked, until a disbelieving scoff finally escaped her. She shook her head, almost laughing under her breath as she looked him over from head to toe again like she was reassessing the entire situation. ❝ Wait, are you actually serious right now? ❞ she asked, squinting at him with open suspicion. ❝ You’re standing here calmly asking what an exorcism is like it’s some doctor’s appointment. ❞ Another scoff, quieter this time, though the edge in her expression had shifted into something more confused than hostile. ❝ Yeah, a priest would probably help if you really were a demon, but exorcisms are supposed to hurt like hell. No demon would willingly walk into that, ❞ she frowned slightly after saying it, gaze lingering on him with growing uncertainty. ❝ So now I’m not even sure what the hell you are anymore. ❞

[buriedwithit]

"yes, yes, come in," elias greets, pulling himself up from his seat with a soft grunt. "i was told to expect you. mr. king, am i correct?" of course he is, as per the messages exchanged by him and his ex-wife. there's some brief curiosity as to the nature of that relationship, how things could possibly work professionally if not through marriage... but it's not his business. he's never been married, himself. in either case, there are more important issues to discuss. "should i trust you've been informed about the nature of our meeting?" mostly in terms of discretion, but also in terms of scouting. nothing else is pertinent and he trusts that simone kept it that way. "or do i need to catch you up to speed?"

[uncny-ba]

Isaiah stepped in with a measured calm, acknowledging the space before fully committing to it, his gaze settling on Elias with steady intent. ❝ You’re correct. Isaiah King, ❞ he replied evenly, neither rushed nor guarded, simply present. ❝ I’ve been briefed on the nature of this meeting and the discretion it requires. ❞ A brief pause followed, his expression thoughtful rather than doubtful. ❝ That said, I’d prefer to hear it from you as well. Context changes depending on the voice that carries it. ❞

[buriedwithit]

something unpleasant coils in its stomach. do something weird. that seems completely possible, since they have little in the way of education about normalcy. the rest... it all seems more like it would be a terrible accident. "i don't want to hurt people," they admit, grimacing. "sometimes i do... but not on purpose." its presence is sometimes enough, less now, to cause headaches in physical beings. is that what she means? what else could there be? the concept of sadism is as alien a thought as pure benevolence... but the latter is much closer to what it aims to do. after a pause, it asks, "do you know any priests?"

[uncny-ba]

Martha went still for a moment, watching him like he’d just confirmed something she didn’t fully like the shape of. Her eyes narrowed, not softened by his admission, if anything, more guarded now, like she was trying to decide whether not on purpose mattered in a world that didn’t really care about intent. ❝ Yeah, sure, ❞ she muttered after a beat, tone flat, almost tired. ❝ That’s what they all say. ❞ Her gaze drifted briefly away, jaw tight, then snapped back to him with a sharper edge. ❝ And yeah, I know priests. Plenty of them around here if you count the ones who pretend they’ve got answers while everything’s falling apart. ❞ She exhaled through her nose, skeptical but not entirely dismissive anymore. ❝ Why? You planning to confess something? Or actually get exorcised? ❞

[scottytheslingshotcowboy]

"Space heater thats a fun thing to call him." There was a furrow of his eyebrowsIt was easier for Scotty to let himself seem unbothered but sometimes his face revealed more than he'd like. He wasn't the start spats without reason type of guy. The cowboy leaned against the wall listening.

"Earnest? Me. I'm more aiming for decent guy to compensate foe the evil space heater." A rare chuckle left his mouth. There was a nod. "Nothing wrong with some comfort food." There was a wink. "Now if I disappoint you I promise to repent to Deacon, scout's honor." There was a chuckle as he led the way.

"Shadow Snot might be a better name for him." Scotty said grabbing the beans and the remaining pantry items. There was hum. "Is, can you get the ground beef. 85% fat not that 55% percent one that's heart healthy." He joked as he began opening the canned beans.

[uncny-ba]

Iselin remained still at first, a sculpture of frost and quiet disdain as thin veins of ice crept along the floor from where she sat, her wings giving a slow, deliberate shift that sent a faint chill through the air. Sumida’s clattering drew a glance, brief, assessing, unimpressed. ❝ If you’re about to freeze to death in my presence, do try to make it dignified, ❞ she said coolly, though her gaze lingered a fraction longer than necessary as he spoke, his awkward sincerity pressing in where sharper words might have failed. At his attempt to reframe fault, her lips curved, just slightly, something wry and almost self-aware. She murmured, ice at her fingertips thinning, retreating as if conceding ground, ❝ Grace is a luxury I rarely extend, especially to myself… But how quaint of you to suggest it. ❞ Then came the request, and the shift was immediate, delicate but undeniable. Her expression softened, frost receding fully now as she rose with a quiet flutter, brushing past him with a faint sigh, to take care of the ground beef. ❝ You should have led with that, ❞ she admitted, tone lighter despite herself, finding a cooler head when it came to showing off her usefulness as well as the promised reward of a good meal. ❝ ...though if this secret recipe fails to impress me, I will ensure it never thaws again. ❞

[uncny-ba]

who / what: closed starter by isaiah king for elias carver ( @buriedwithit ) when / where: wherever, whenever you please (Elias' office in Sector 2?)

Isaiah moved with measured steps, the kind that made even the most crowded halls feel like they parted out of respect rather than fear. The message from Simone Stokes, his ex-wife and professional superior, had been brief but it carried enough weight that he did not question it. After all, she rarely asked for anything without reason...and never lightly when it concerned Council matters. Elias Carver was already visible ahead. Isaiah stopped a few paces away, letting silence settle first, as if acknowledging the space before claiming it. ❝ Councilor Carver, ❞ he said at last, voice calm but edged with intent. ❝ I am here on behalf of Councilor Stokes. ❞

[drmothra]

There was a still a neutral byt slightly empathic gaze. "I will try to transcribe this at a later date, the medical typewriter is being used in the ICU." They said remarking with an accomdating tone. Trying to cover the line of concern and professionalism.

"It wouldn't be surprising." The doctor remarked. "Even the most stoic of beings have cried at the throes of hypothermia." Mo said with a slight nod. He picked up the walkie talkie. "Up the dosage of lidocaine if possible, please handle patient with best medical pain practices."

He turned his head towards the other, an unspoken the most I can do. "The goal as a medical professional is to look at the patient and their caregiver to see if their ailments intertwined." Mo replied with a neutral tone. "Orange juice it is." Mo said with a quip of smile, one moment please.

They came back with orange juice and a small box with macaroons. There was a polite smile. "It will be another 30 minutes before operation." He gently placed the items. "It's imperative to have sustenance during these times."

[uncny-ba]

Iselin scoffed softly at the doctor’s remark, a sound sharp enough to cut but too composed to be truly loud, her expression tightening with faint disdain. ❝ Crying at hypothermia, ❞ she repeated, as if tasting the absurdity of it, crossing her arms across her chest. ❝ I can’t relate. ❞ Her gaze drifted away, unimpressed, already dismissing the concept entirely. At his next comment, something in her posture shifted, instant offense, theatrical and deliberate. She lifted a hand to her chest in an exaggerated gasp. ❝ Caregiver? ❞ she echoed, scandalized on principle more than meaning. ❝ I am not a caregiver! ❞ Her eyes narrowed slightly as she added under her breath, almost inaudible, ❝ I’m the one who deserves to be given care. ❞ Then the orange juice arrived, and some macaroons with it. The transformation was immediate. Her expression brightened with unmistakable, almost childlike delight as she reached for them without hesitation, ignoring restraint entirely as she claimed the entire box for herself. ❝ Finally, ❞ she said absently, already breaking into one of the sweet treats. ❝ Take all the time in the world, doctor. I’m sure you’ll do your best, whatever the result. ❞

[buriedwithit]

its brows crease, considering the suggestion deeply. "...maybe? i don't know. i don't know anything about demons. i think i recognize the word." err—not them. the memories that occupy its current form, sure. but none of them actually belong to null. "it's hard to remember it all at once. i have—i have to go in pieces." lest they lose focus and vanish into the aether all over again. "if i was a demon, is there some way to know? is it possible i could be one and... just have forgotten, somehow?"

[uncny-ba]

Martha blinked at him, slow and sharp, like his answer had actually surprised her instead of just annoyed her. Her brow lifted, skeptical in a way that almost bordered on disbelief that he was entertaining it at all. ❝ You’re actually considering that? ❞ she muttered, eyes narrowing as she studied him harder, like she was trying to spot horns or something obvious she’d missed. The idea that she might be standing in front of something else entirely didn’t seem to comfort her: It just made her more suspicious. ❝ So what, you don’t remember anything and now it’s maybe I’m a demon? ❞ She leaned back slightly, arms folding as her gaze stayed locked on him. ❝ If you were one, wouldn’t you... I don’t know, feel it? Do something weird? Hurt people or whisper in their heads or whatever the hell demons do? ❞ She let a beat pass, her expression tightening, before a thought came to her not unlike a divine enlightenment, ❝ Have you ever tried consulting a priest? ❞

[buriedwithit]

"ummm..." they trail off, confused. not for the first time. that term is entirely new to it, something unencountered thus far in the painfully slow combing of david krane's memory archives. "i don't know, i don't know anything about what that word means. but i don't see the point in... not... believing?" maybe that's not the answer she wants to her, but it's the one that they've decided to give. lies are something entirely alien to them, let alone the concepts beyond that... like fiction. "...yes?"

[uncny-ba]

Martha stared at him like she was trying to decide whether he was stupid, lying, or something worse, her eyes narrowing into something sharp and unimpressed. The hesitation alone was enough to irritate her, but she didn’t push further into the demons question, didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her get laughed at for it. Instead, her gaze lingered, colder now, like she was recalculating what he even was. ❝ Right… ❞ she muttered, dragging the word out with clear disbelief before shifting her weight. ❝ So you don’t know anything, but you’re still answering like you do. Great. ❞ Her eyes flicked over him again, slower this time, suspicious rather than angry. ❝ Ever think maybe you don’t have to believe in demons because you might already be one and just don’t know it yet? ❞

[buriedwithit]

"i don't pretend that you're desperate for anything." but they both know that his word means a lot as far as city politics go. elias is the oldest person on the council and his father before them was part of the founding of the city itself... at least in an organized way. the underground caverns is testament enough that someone ( if not something ) had existed post-meteor and also pre-sol city. that isn't his concern. it's for others to worry about the past and his burden to concern himself with the plight of real, literal people dependent on his work. "but i think it would be lucrative if we could work together." nodding, elias takes another sip of his drink. she isn't bristling anymore and that reassures him that his current path, now that it's been explained, is true. "i knew you would. you of all people have exactly the information i need to make this happen. and the resources, at that. i trust you'll send me their files for my own perusal? i hate to be old fashioned, but i've always enjoyed being able to vet for myself."

[uncny-ba]

Simone’s expression tightened just slightly at that, more a flicker of disapproval than offense, as if she’d caught the underlying assumption that trust still needed proving between them, her gaze holding on him a moment longer than necessary before she let it go. ❝ Of course, ❞ she replied smoothly, the word carrying just enough weight to make clear she wasn’t indulging the implication. ❝ I’ll send the files before the day is done. ❞ She took a measured breath, settling back into her usual composure, though her eyes remained sharp as they studied him over the rim of her glass. ❝ But Elias, ❞ she added lightly, though the edge never left her voice. ❝ If you’re going to vet my people, you might want to remember: I don’t send you anything I haven’t already vetted twice myself. ❞