Sometimes I Wonder How I Ever Got In

[Continued from here] @undergroundanesthetic Had he not answered that? He surely had, perhaps not in enough details for Ash’s liking, but fish in a basket, what more did he want? “Of course it can!” Junkenstein snapped suddenly. All his work had been to prove just that! So perhaps he did not have the specifics down just yet as to how the Spark of Life worked. Big whoop! He would figure that little MASSIVE detail out later! Magic mostly was just science that is not yet fully explained. He just… needed even more time to unravel those details. Not sure what emotion was going to win out in the ever growing mix he felt, Junkenstein pulled the edge of the blanket more around himself as he stored off to one side, his nose twitching along with the edges of his mouth in thought. “I don’t create things just so they can suffer for my amusement.” That was more His Majesty’s wishes. “But fine. I see what little choice I have since you have been my supplier as of late. Surely I still owe you favor,” the initial harshness fizzling out to that of near dejection. “Though I would like to know the result of the peppermint should you test that.”

It wasn’t the first time anyone had snapped at him and it wouldn’t be the last. He knew full well how to keep his composure. His expression, as he watched the Doctor get agitated, didn’t change outside of one brow cocking a bit.

He did, however, give a deep sigh. “Fine. Then science, as we know it, can’t produce artificial life. Perhaps one day we’ll find that. But currently, we can’t.” It felt so much like a bit of a tantrum to him that it took effort not to simply slip into a tone reserved for the mourning children or the children that people brought in for his medical expertise. “I never said you did, Jamison,” Ash said firmly, calmly. “As I said--you seem to care deeply for these creations. I would like to think you’re not the type of person that would act cruelly to those you care about. My questions are in good faith, meant to express to you the benefit of the doubt. I’m sure many people that believe you just outright shun you for such conduct.”

He takes a deep breath, trying to think of how he wanted to reword his concerns and express what it was he was trying to accomplish. “You owe me nothing outside of our agreed upon payments.” A leg lifted to place the ankle atop the opposite knee, hands resting in his lap once comfortable. “Anything with a degree of sentience can act. Imagine for me, if you will, your very first memory of life is pain. Then when you wake, you see someone--they’re so happy to see you. They want to welcome you to the world with open arms. To teach you everything. But you feel awful. You ache, you’re sad and you don’t know why, whatever else may be the issue. But this person... this person is so happy that you’re there. You don’t want to ruin it. So you go on pretending that you’re fine.”

Both hands reached up, removing his ponytail and mussing his hair slightly before beginning to put it back up. “I merely worry that you aren’t privy to some suffering they may be going through.” Through most of his spiel, Ash’s eyes were on Jamison and his twitching. His angry, bitter twitching, his offense, his dejection. “I need certain equipment. I don’t know toxicology so I don’t have the necessary tools. If you have them, I can certainly look at them and let you know what I find.”

[Continued from here] @undergroundanesthetic Skirting the topic? That did not feel right but perhaps his take on things was not what the Scot was going for. He wanted something else. Something more… oh. Oh, okay. That made more sense and Junkenstein could now see how it might have been misconstrued. “I…” Jamison made a distressing noise as the blanket had been brought over. His eyes darting about in rapid thought trying to figure out how to best express what happened without coming across as a villain. Surely he was a good guy in the situation, bringing new life, but no one ever really dared to look from that perspective of his. Form shivering, he stopped rubbing his arms and instead gripped at the folded material of his rolled up sleeves. Ash had not run away yet and in a way, Junkenstein brought this upon himself. He wanted a curious mind to ask questions of him and he got just that. He however had not anticipated on it also judging him as well. An oversight of his own doing. “Yes and no. Each one is vastly different in their own right. My more robotic pieces respond and react differently to the more… organic ones. The process in which they gain life is painful, yes, but I do my best to ease that as quickly as possible. It’s a little bit of a struggle to find the perfect balance as it’s…” Letting out a sigh, Junkenstein shook his head suddenly, metal hand reaching up to hold his temple. “I would never force them to suffer through a life in which I can not assist or guide them through it. Their past memories are,” he paused, index finger tapping against his head on the edge of his hairline. “Gone but not fully. As in they still have their basic motor functions, the ones that can speak do, and all are capable of their own thought and actions. They just… I never had one come to with fully intact memory.” Of what made them who they once were. But perhaps that was due to being bits of many and the mind did not wrap around that it was nothing like perhaps thought it should be. …The spark of life. How funny Ash called it that. “The spark of life is actually what lead me to make a deal with the witch.. It was the piece I was missing. At least for mmnnmm,” Doc’s voice wavered some as he lowered down hands onto his lap, hands now grasping at the hems of his lab coat and the royal purple of his pants. “Mn… My Hog.” Hopefully that was more of a satisfactory answer than before.

“I’m not so much asking if they remember anything. More... I’m asking... do you know if they’re happy or sad? Are the suffering, mentally speaking?” It was hard to say much on the matter of the brief pain of the life being shocked into them. Ash took a breath as he mulled over everything being presented to him. It was... a lot to take in, and while he was confident he could do it, it just... was his own moral objections that he had to wade through.

After putting the blanket on his host, he settled back down into the couch and pressed his fingers to his forehead as he sighed, rubbing them firmly. “So...” A grunt of effort left him this time, an effort of thought. “I imagined as much. Life, as it stands, can’t be created by science. Not artificially.” His... Hog? Brows raise with his head to give Jamison a look of confusion. The body language told him to leave it be, however. It wasn’t of someone with something to hide, but more of something that he didn’t... like remembering. Something--the one thing--he didn’t want to talk about in regards to himself or his... ‘work’.

“I... I’m not encouraging you to make more.” He let that hang for a moment. A long moment. “But I know you will, regardless of what I say or do. I request, though, that I be allowed to check them. The organic ones, I mean.” He hadn’t the foggiest idea about robotics or anything mechanical. “I... would like to make sure they’re not suffering in any way that they’re not letting you in on.”

Like/reblog this post if you want your muse to have a nightmare involving mine

It's nearing October and I want to practice writing my corrupt version of Doc. The nightmares will probably be short and they more than likely will be morbid but tiss the season~

#leGY #ooc #ask meme no questions #technically i'm not doing this #i reboogling bc ash is a sideblog

Bringing this back. Nightmares will vary in length and might take a while for me to write so don’t expect them straight away.

books-n-quotes

Deep feelings always mean more than they are capable of saying.

Albert Camus, The Myth Of Sisyphus (via books-n-quotes)

#urn of ashes

Catch Doc crushing something with a mortar and pestle. “Act like I’m mad? Pshh… I’m plenty sane. I’ll show them. This will be my most productive week on record.” Junkenstein continues to babble to himself as he proceeds to dump the crushed caffeine pills into the coffee pot. This alone was a brilliant idea! The real question now was, would it be too much to use something like Red Bull instead of water to brew the coffee itself? Well… Only one way to find out!

SIKE!

Fellow doctor and mortician up in here grabbing Doc by the ear. “Jamison that’s an overdose and a half. Put. The pot. Down.” A little tug on the ear for emphasis.

Honestly.........

[Continued from here] @undergroundanesthetic Was being an accomplice or eyewitness to a murder somehow less an offense than being the one to snuff out a life? That was what things were sounding like and to an extent, Junkenstein felt he understood but did not want to take the attention off of himself for long as he enjoyed being the topic of conversation! …When it was good news anyway. “More or less,” Junkenstein relented. His thin frame still shivering though he managed to keep his teeth from chattering. Eyes still bright only to find Ash was no looking at him but rather his own hands. “Hmm..” There was the reason. Funny really how a man could have no qualms selling pieces on the down low for profit and yet seemed to be concerned with what was ethical. It was that thought alone that had Jamison himself look elsewhere. His work was brilliant. Surely Ash would agree if he were to see it. But… No. There were still a few issues that needed ironed out before he could even consider letting the other view any of his latest attempts. “I greet all my creations with nothing but love and joy like anyone decent parent would their child.” For he loved them and was proud whenever they would open their eyes. Sure the electricity that coursed through them was painful but it was the necessary jump start to get them all going. His more robotic creations had an easier time with it but the others that were that and more seemed to hurt.

“I want their first day of existence to be meet with a friendly face and care. …But… I’ve never had any come to with real memory.” Though that was sort of tiptoeing around the real issue Ash seemed to be holding. But Junkenstein did not want to dwell long on his failures. Those poor souls were terminated and grieved over. Their pieces that were not able to be reused again burned and scattered to return to nature as well as hide the evidence. “Even so, I tend to them, feed them, guide them, read to them… Whatever it is they seem to need at the time.” Though admittedly Junkenstein sometimes read and talked to them before they where even ever fully assembled. A part of him hoping that in some asinine way that in doing so they might be more antiquated with him through the simple action and in a sense it made him that much more attached. “…You don’t have to stay if you don’t wish to. You’re shirt is probably close to being done drying by now.”

#disgraced doctor junkenstein #ic

In Ash’s defense, he was more or less worried about how the creations felt. The organs and pieces he parted with didn’t feel either emotionally or physically until potentially used as a transplant.

“That isn’t an answer to my question. You’re skirting the topic.” He had no intention of pussyfooting around the subject. “If I give you the benefit of the doubt and say you simply misunderstood my question, allow me to elaborate. Do you know what their emotional states are? Are they in distress? Does the process hurt them? Are they in pain? Do they understand anything? What exactly is their spark of life?” His worries lie mostly in the quality of the creatures’ lives and their mental health, really.

A heavy sigh was heaved as he finally found a throw blanket (sure was comfortable just doing shit in someone else’s home, wasn’t he?) and made his way back over. “You speak as though you care deeply for them, so I would imagine you would have the same concerns.”

noonlight-stims

genderfluid flag edit for @primedspecimen

#urn of ashes #friend art #AHHHHH

[Continued from here] @undergroundanesthetic There really should be more distance between the two but Ash had been the one to set him down and even if there had been room between them both, Doc removed it. His one side pressed against the mortician to leech some heat from them. For some reason Junkenstein always felt cold, well, colder than usual. It was like death felt him cold inside and just took a moment for his senses to regroup and figure out he was back. “That’s usually a good worry to have.” It surely would have been far more concerning if Ash did not fear death as it was generally a permanent state. Very few people ever returned from it. Anyone who had not been breathing for three minutes or more suffered from brain damage on top of it and according to Ash, Junkenstein had been dear around three hours. “Though it makes me wonder why you would take on a murder at all but,” Doc trailed off as he shrugged his other shoulder. And there it was! The question he had initially expected to be asked upon their first meeting but never received. Until now. “I recycle them.” There had been the briefest temptation to lie and say he ate them but there was no need to start confusing his guest so soon over something so silly. “Think of me as a late EMT,” Doc grinned though it did not stretch as far as his smiles usually would. “But instead of reviving the dead I create new life.” Shivering suddenly, Junkenstein made a displeased whine of a noise in his throat as he crossed his arms over himself, hands rubbing his upper arms to try and stir up some more warmth. “I’m still- still working out some of the kinks but it’s been quite the endeavor.”

“I don’t take on murders, per se. But I have done things for people who are criminals by profession. I’ve done them for criminals by circumstance. I’ve worked with someone who has connections to the black market, for the homeless people who can’t afford a doctor.” Ash doesn’t seem to mind all that much that Jamison is getting incredibly cozy with him. He’s not returning any affections, really, but he doesn’t seem all that fussed that Junkenstein has been in constant contact with him since he’d been placed down.

Recycle...? Well that already answered everything. And yet, he was still going to ask. “So what you’re doing is creating creatures out of bits and pieces of others, correct?” His gaze moved to his hands, taking in and processing the information. “I have... ethical concerns.” Sure, he did shady shit. But... at the same time, he wasn’t really going out of his way to inflict physical pain on people. Nor was he bringing back corpses in a wild mishmash. How would one even know what gave the creature the spark of life? Souls? If so, were they fresh, newly spawned souls? Or were they the souls of those that had departed...?

“How aware... Hm. How... how to word this? How... how privy are you to how they’re feeling and what they’re feeling? That is to say, how aware are you of their emotional state and physical sensations?” For a guy who did some shady-ass shit, he sure was hesitant about the whole ordeal. “And how aware are you of their... mental faculties and state?”

As he questioned the other, he gazed around for a throw blanket to nab for the doctor.

[Continued from here] @undergroundanesthetic Understandable really. This line of work Ash found himself in was high stakes but the payout was vastly lucrative. Junkenstein had been nodding along in agreement as the other spoke only to suddenly end up shaking his head. “To others perhaps but for me you are a good asset to have! Though you talking less to anyone else seeking your line of trade surely means less of a trail being made so authorities can not follow. Still, I digress!” He had questions? Ash. Ash McKenna has questions for him? Finally!

“Yes, yes! By all means! Ask me anything!” It was about damn time the other had inquiries for him! After all, Dr. Junkenstein knew himself to be a damn interesting man!

#ic #disgraced doctor junkenstein #Ash just. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

Honestly, Ash probably would’ve been dead by now if it wasn’t for the fact that he was one of the very few people that did what he does in the way that he does. It made him pretty valuable, and if you got rid of him? You’d have far more problems on your hands than was really worth it.

Connections... an obscenely large network of people is what kept him out of harm’s way.

“Well I have methods of keeping things under wraps. If I wanted to, I could probably puppet quite a few places. I worry more about becoming a liability to particularly murderous clients.” How the fuck did one go from dying to dead to amped the fuck up? Jamison truly was something else, he’d give him that.

The next step was to pick his words carefully. Yes, Junkenstein seemed... almost infatuated by him, but without knowing him far more intimately or what exactly he used his purchases for... he didn’t really want to test anything that might tip the scales in the wrong direction. “Well... I can’t help but wonder, now, what it is you do with the things you purchase.” Surely there was a relation between the organ shopping and his ability to return from being dead for three fucking hours. That still got him. Three hours! He was dead for three hours! And now he was just... fine! Like he’d just taken a power nap so hard his bodily functions completely ceased!

sarasalternativefashion

💀🌹

#the passions of a madman #AAAAHHHHH

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

Character Development Questions: Hard Mode

Ash fluctuates, in his personal things, between pristine and organized chaos. So, by extension, so do his pockets. Pristine time, there’s only the necessities in his pockets. Keys, wallet, phone, maybe a hair tie for if his snaps (him hair thicc), possibly some things that not everyone carries but could absolutely save someone’s life (ex. Narcan).

Organized chaos, he’s got fuckin’ all of the above with the addition of receipt papers, writing utensils, maybe some chapstick, a pack of gum he bought 3 weeks ago, caffeine pills, energy shot(s)--

Typically pristine is when he’s gotten some goooood fuckin’ sleep in. The more exhausted he is, though, the more it creeps towards organized chaos.

#tell meme no lies #hc #ask casket #disgraced doctor junkenstein

30. What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?

Character Development Questions: Hard Mode

There’s really not much he thinks is repulsive or disgusting, though rotten/moldy food is one of them. Rotten corpses not so much? But if the meat itself was intended for consumption and it goes bad, it gives him the heeby jeebies.

#tell meme no lies #hc #ask casket #uhhhh #if you need me to tag this please let me know what to tag it as #for the record it'll be tw [insert tag here]#Anonymous

[Continued from here] @undergroundanesthetic Good solid couch. Or was it semi solid if it was cushioned. Cushions were just a soft solid were they not? The German man’s thoughts were muddled as he had allowed himself to be ever so briefly distracted by his relief to be sat down on something. Even so, he had not really moved himself away from the other as most might to try and distance themselves, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Apparently that was not on his own personal agenda. Gritting his teeth at hearing the other admit he sounded crazy, Jamison had prepared himself for worse to follow only to feel his tension shift into confusion. Ash was not upset with him? Not only was he not angry at him for thinking he might be playing a joke but he- he actually believed him? That never happened! “Hold on. Give me a second to process this.” It was almost funny really how Doc was the one in need of a moment to have it sink in that someone actually believe him and was not unsettled by anything he had told them. Hell, if anything the undertaker looked as he always had. Calm and relaxed but perhaps more attentive with what they were discussing. “…Right.” Okay. Feeling re-centered and able to focus once more after a tick, Junkenstein shifted on the couch, angling himself more so he could face the other man. “Yes. The pieces I get from you generally are far fresher than most of the others I have taken over the years. A lot less hassle as well though the workout is…” he made a long and almost rusty sounded noise of distress in his throat. “Nice but far riskier than just joining a gym.”

“Don’t tell me now you are interested in my work,” Junkenstein began to laugh. It was funny really, at least to him it was. All it took to get the other to finally ask some questions was being poisoned to death! Oh wow! “No, no, do actually tell me you are~ I want to hear it.”

Ash didn’t seem phased by Jamison’s closeness. It wasn’t like he was doing anything untoward. It was something he’d gotten very used to years ago. People, especially people in mourning, liked to hug, to be close.

He wasn’t really sure what about ‘you were stone-cold dead for three hours and came back to actual literal life without even a complication so I wouldn’t really bat an eye at much else’ Jamison wasn’t understanding. It didn’t matter, though.

Clearly, the Doctor was talking about robbing graves. Which, yes, was very dangerous, a hassle, and one hell of a workout. “I don’t typically ask into my patrons’ uses,” he said, deep brown eyes flitting over the other’s pale features. “That usually puts someone in my position at risk. I lose my value, and therefore my security. But...” This was a special case. While he struggled with empathy, he was... concerned about what might be being made here.

“I do have a few questions, however, if you’d indulge me.”