that THING is a killing machine

  Oh, that's great, blame it on the little guy. How original.  

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

- N.R. Hart

@adella-the-idyllic

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

-simone de beauvoir

@baenxietydad

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

-kimmprry, Crown Royal 

@displacedprincess

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

@mrsrcbinscn

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

@rezares

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

-k. azizian

@tiggnevertiegan

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

Bubble, Bubble, I’m in Trouble || Artemis and Mike

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

artemis-iokheaira‌:

The poltergeist blinked from existence–at least, it blinked from sight. It could not leave this place. One of the drawbacks to the powers of a poltergeist. They were nothing to turn one’s nose up at, but they were confined to the building which they haunted. 

Still, Artemis stayed poised, another arrow notched, though her arms were lowered in a more relaxed position as she waited for it to reappear. 

It allowed her a few moments to assess the situation–taking stock of the room and the layout, looking for another way out. She then dropped her gaze to the man who she had saved–who she would probably need to save before the end of this, unless she could get him out quickly.

“It seems you disturbed a poltergeist,” Artemis informed him bluntly, just the slightest hint of reprimand in her voice. 

“Come along, we should get you out of here before it reappears.” 

Artemis started towards a set of dilapidated stairs that she had spotted tucked away into a corner. She waited for the man to scramble up before she picked her way over the rubble towards the stairs. 

They reached the bottom and Artemis put her foot on the first one.

“Not so fast!” the poltergeist popped back into existence with a laugh of excitement. One of the stairs boards wiggled loose and launched itself at them. 

Artemis twirled out of the way, grabbing the man by his collar and moving him too, so that it missed them both and shattered along the back wall. 

The walls began to ooze a glowing, blue-green slime, alighting the room with an eerie glow, and several of the floorboards began to tremble.

Artemis’ jaw ticked and she spread her feet a little, grounding herself and preparing for whatever the poltergeist decided to do next. If only she could touch it. She needed to draw it out, distract it, so that she could get a hold of it properly. If she had Apollo with her, this would not be a problem. They could glance at each other and he would know that he would have to draw the apparition’s attention. 

“You don’t happen to be of any use, do you?” Artemis asked, glancing over her shoulder at the man. He didn’t have a trace of magic in him, as far as she could tell, and her perception was impeccable. 

Well, he guessed he could appreciate the lack of tact in a situation like this. His heart seized up at the word poltergeist. Had it not been enough for him to have a run in with one ghost? Now he had to be at the mercy of one that was significantly more terrifying. Which he only knew because people often mistook them for Demons when they weren’t so well informed on the differences between those that were listed under the non-living. 

Mike wasn’t about to argue with his savior, who was still sporting the bow like a YA novel protagonist. She was certainly beautiful enough to be one, like on a whole other level of beauty that only flowery words and poetics would be able to describe. He made his way over to the stairs, shoving the radar back into his bag as they went. His head was ducked, preoccupied with zippers when the poltergeist reappeared, head snapping up a touch too late at the sound of their voice. 

The piece of wood was heading straight for him and he had resigned himself to getting his in the split second it took to shut his eyes and tense up. Only for his weight to be pulled in another direction, movements clumsy as his limbs adapted to the idea of moving that had not been their own. 

He then began to freak out more than he already was as the knowledge that this thing was trying to kill him fully set in. Mike probably would have folded under it had it not been for her question. Like a shadow that prickled in him, a hollow sort of howling in his chest, at the familiar tone in her voice. 

“Yes. I’m a Demonologist, that’s why I’m here in the first place.” The presence returned again, drifting, or circling, like a shark in dark water and Mike was bleeding fear. “And then there’s the whole part where I would very much like to not die, so-! Just tell me what you need me to do.” 

[accendimi]

Knuckle Down {Greenies}

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

accendimi‌:

Sarina glanced up to the pan on the shove it wasn’t like breakfast wasn’t ready to be made. In fact probably she was surprised Mike had sat down. She was more surprised he was trying to get her to talk. 

There was nothing with her…. There was nothing hard that she needed to talk about.

It didn’t help her other friend had left leaving her in Mike’s capable hands. Hands that she couldn’t escape from easily these days. (clues that she needed to move out but it was so easy to stay when she felt safe here.)

“Of course but I’m not too sure what you expect me to talk about? Did you not want pancakes? That’s okay too.”

Mike sighed at her deflection but wasn’t deterred. A worried Wazowski was an unrelenting one, just look at his mom. 

“The pancakes will still be there,” he dismissed, only shifting forward in his seat to condense the space between them a touch more. “I don’t expect you to talk about anything, I’m just...”

He moved as if he was going to go pick up her hand because that’s what he did with the things he talked about. When needing to prove something he would hold onto the article or book, the subject of the discussion. In lectures he usually had a dry erase marker or the wireless clicker for the powerpoints in his hand to fiddle with since he had nothing else. Here, he wanted to point out the evidence that was her broken skin. He caught himself at the last minute, and just motioned animatedly to her hands. 

“All I’m saying is that I’m here if you have anything you need to say. And I mean anything, like uh...if you don’t like the new air freshener! I just, you know, with the holidays coming up I usually go for the cinnamon.” Great. He was already rambling. Mike cleared his throat, “Just, for an example.” 

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

Do You Like Scary Movies? || Sweet Monsters

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

enthusiasticclouds-sally‌:

Not long after Sally had taken her seat had Salene plopped herself right in between Mike and herself. She made herself all super comfortable and rested her head right on Mike’s legs. 

Salene had already made herself a new best friend. 

As the dvd proceeded in going through the normal commercials every movie has, Sally found herself laughing. It wasn’t a laugh against or at Mike, but a warm one in appreciation to hearing all of his scary movie habits. It made her feel better to see that she wasn’t alone when it came to having habits when watching a scary movie. 

“I’m a jumper.” The redhead admitted as she swung one of her throws over herself and began to pour herself some tea before the movie started. 

“So you’ll probably see me making some mini jumps here and there. I… do it so often that Salene doesn’t even flinch anymore. Poor thing, in the beginning, she would always bop her head up to make sure that I was okay and her tail would wag out of control with worry. She’s learned now though.” 

Sally gently petted at the belly of her dog with her free hand and then went ahead to grab the bowl of popcorn she had placed on the table. 

“Want some popcorn? Was the tea good?”  

Just as Mike was silently stealing himself to shut the hell up for the rest of the night, possibly for the rest of his life who knew, Sally put her foot in the door with an offered admission like that. It melted him back into that comfortable place he had been the moment before he opened his big mouth. 

He huffed in amusement, nodding in understanding because if she thought she was jumpy then she was in for a rude awakening. Especially if she was the only person he knew that had seen the movie and he could talk to about it with. A week from now his brain would probably still be stuck on some stupid little detail they were about to see and come crawling to her asking to set the record straight so he could stop getting lost in his own mind and getting startled anytime anyone so much as said his name. 

A lopsided smile tugged one corner of his mouth upward as he reached over to pat Salene as a thank you. Sure, he didn’t know the dog, and he really didn’t know Sally all that well but that was just a detail. She was his friend and the only thing standing between him and knowing more about her was time. He was grateful that she’d had somebody to keep an eye out for her before he had gotten there. 

“Oh, right, uh,” he leaned forward to carefully grab his mug between both of his hands to pull back with him onto the couch. Mike focused up on trying not to let her be aware of how much he had to prep himself for that typical nasty tea flavor he’d come to know. Finally he took a tentative sip and sat with it for a second before humming in surprise. He stared down at the steaming liquid then looked over at her with narrowed eyes, “Okay, you gotta be messing with me because there’s no way this-” he gave an accusatory point at the mug, “-is tea.” 

[causeimmroogieboogie]

Close Enounters || Mikie

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

causeimmroogieboogie‌:

Oogie’s face stretched with a broad, toothy grin and he opened his arms to the man’s words. One hurdle clear, a hundred to go. “Well, I’m glad at last that someone agrees we need to take precautions against this kind of thing. I mean, so much of this campaign has had the candidates pandering to the softer approaches to magic. But when it comes to invisible threats like this, it seems to me like it’s being swept under the rug for the sake of votes,” he said, with a faint shake of his head. He hadn’t quite expected the offer of assistance while he poked around the facts - though maybe he should have. After all, one might expect a conversation like this to be intended for a wider audience, and not just Oogie’s own ego. But really, having a Demonologist on your side couldn’t be a bad thing, so long as he didn’t catch him being, well, him. Though the cover of an Empath was suiting him fairly well so far.

“First of all, I suppose what people need to know is how to spot a demon. And also how to guard themselves against one, if they can?” His gaze flicked one by one along the books on the shelves above them. “Or… - this might sound a little outlandish, but if there is a portal to the underworld, would it be better to find a way to close it, thereby preventing any influx of demons altogether?” 

And reducing the risk of being unexpectedly sent home.

It wasn’t hard for Mike to want to believe this guy. He was an optimist at heart, he always thought the best of people. But, he was also a paranoid person. So when a potential politician walked through his door asking after things like this, it had him a little worried. 

There were two sides to every coin. Demonology was no exception. Unlike most of the people in his field, Mike didn’t see it in black and white because it wasn’t that simple. He refused to believe that it could be. 

At first he was on board, nodding along with everything, until it all came to a screeching halt at the thought that this guy wanted to close the Gates to the Underworld. What the heck? Was he out of his mind?

“Uh- sorry, we can get back to the first part but, no,” Mike shook his head. He tried to keep his tone light, but stern enough to where he hoped Mr. Marks would get the point. “No, there’s no way to do that. That’d take, like, world altering amounts of magic that I doubt anyone besides the Ambassador has, if at all. And even if there was we couldn’t. Demons aren’t the only things that live in the Underworld, and not all Demons are going to come out of there looking to strike a deal or cause chaos.” 

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

Confront Your Demons || Panic and Mike

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

panicked-percy‌:

Shoving his phone back into his pocket and then leaving his hands there Panic raised an eyebrow at the man. Sally had given Mike’s name to him before. He knew he dealt with demonology but that didn’t explain why it was that he knew Panic was one.

Narrowing his eyes for a moment Panic eventually raised an eyebrow at him. 

“And why is it that you think I’m hosting a Demon? Wait would I even know. Oh my god what if I don’t know and you’re here to save me.” Panic muttered sarcastically, there was no way someone had spilled- well no because now it wasn’t just Attina and Sally knowing. It was a girl that blackmailed him and her entire family so who spilled something, intentionally or unintentionally. He was banking on Andy.

“Yeah, no,” Mike shook his head, a little smile on his face as Percy, or whoever he was talking to at the moment, hit him with the sarcastic attitude. “Because if you’ve been hosting this Demon for as long as I think you have, then maybe you’re not in need of any saving.

“And! As for how I know-” he pulled one of his arms out from under the strap of his backpack, allowing it to fall to his side so he could unzip on of the pouches. Mike presented the Demon Activity Radar, “-this told me everything I need to know. So!” 

He pushed it back into his bag, zipping it up, and putting it back over his arm to smile up at the guy with defiance, “You want to keep pretending or can we just skip all of that and get right down to it?” 

Mike, whose heart was in his throat and stomach buried six feet under at this point, took a step forward, “Who am I talking to right now, the host or the one being hosted?”  

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

Breakthroughs and Break-Ins|| Mipper

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

thedipster‌:

Dipper was panicking. Dipper’s heart was racing and there was just a horrible swirling feeling in the pit of his stomach and his chest felt very tight. And if Bill still lived in the back of his head, he knew there would be a dark, tinny voice cackling about how he was a fuck up, how he’d messed up one simple task –

Well, to be frank, even without Bill in the back of his head, Dipper was still thinking those things.

He took a shaking breathe, trying to recall everything he did this morning.

“I kept it in the little locked safe that all the dorms have,” he said. “Only I have the combination. I keep, like, my passport and, like, this fancy watch my dad gave me when I graduated high school in there. It was in a little plastic baggy, underneath my passport. I unlocked it this morning. I put it in the front pocket. I zipped the pocket. I made breakfast. I checked it again. I zipped the pocket again. It was still in the little plastic baggy – like one of those sandwich bags,” he added, as if more details would suddenly bring the flashdrive back.

“And then I walked here. And the pocket was still zipped when I sat down…” He closed his eyes, trying to remember if he’d reached for the front of the bag to feel for the shape of the drive when he’d sat down. He usually did. Why wouldn’t he have done that? Even when he was carrying around something like his passport he always stuck a hand in the designated pocket to make sure it was there.

“I know it was still zipped when I sat down,” he said, opening his eyes. “And it wouldn’t have been zipped if it fell out while I was walking. It wouldn’t have been zipped now if it fell out – if it’s gone and the bag is zipped that means someone must’ve zipped it back.”

The more he listened the less he liked the story because Mr. Pines was a responsible guy. When it came to this, anyways, he hadn’t really witnessed Mr. Pines in his natural habitat. But he had seen it in the way he prepped, in the way he worked. This was the first instance of anything like this happening and Mike didn’t want to believe that he had reached the finish line just to trip and fall flat on his face because he hadn’t bothered to tie his shoes. 

No, as Mr. Pines suggested, it was more likely that someone had reached out to trip him. So he was just going to have to get back up. And Mike was going to be done with the whole running metaphor now.

“Alright,” he said, holding up his hands like a pair of double stop signs. “Alright. Let’s not- let’s not panic. If you say it was there then I believe you. But it isn’t there now, so we’re going to have to find it. Obviously. Sorry.”

He reentered his office, beginning to pace back and forth, ”Let’s say someone did take it. Hypothetically, for now. Then we’re looking down the barrel at one of two possibilities being true. The first is someone was in need of some data storage and you were the unfortunate victim of theft. The second, and possibly the more likely version, was that someone knew what you had and took it because of what was on that drive, not for the drive itself.” 

Mike stopped and turned to Mr. Pines, “Have any of the other students taken a special interest in your project?” 

[accendimi]

Knuckle Down {Greenies}

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

accendimi‌:

Stretching out her hand Sarina worked her hand it was a pain but it was a familiar pain that she quite enjoyed. It proved a lot to herself, that she could fight, that she was real and could feel something physical.

“Ohh if it was the kitchenware we wouldn’t have any more. I would have kicked all of their asses and shoved them out the door.” Sarina teased grinning up at him. “Nah I went to the gym already and apparently I need to get new gloves if this is what happens.” Sarina said even though she had been doing this for weeks now and the same outcome would occur and she would still go for it over and over.

New gloves? Mike eyed her with confusion. Which, yeah, okay, so he wasn’t necessarily the guy who was going to know about fighting equipment, he would admit that. But, that being said, he highly doubted that bad gloves were the reason behind that. They had to have been like shoes, right? And if someone was noticing that their shoes were hurting them then they weren’t just going to keep letting it happen to the point of drawing blood. At least, not if they could help it. 

What’s more was that this hadn’t been the first time he had seen wounds on her hands. The first time he had noticed he hadn’t thought much of it. Everyone got scrapes now and again, just ask the concrete burn on his thigh he’d scored the other day while taking out the trash. The second time he had thought about bringing it up, but had backed off, knowing it was just his brain being paranoid. 

But a third time? 

“Sarina,” he said, soft but serious. “You know you can talk to me, right?” 

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

Source Material || Green Gorgon

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

amoderngorgon‌:

Celia’s eyebrows furrowed, but well…she didn’t know that she could argue against him. She was aware that they had tried a good number of things with limited or no success. And sure, maybe she was feeling a little less sure about their chances. But then, well, Celia didn’t know that it mattered as much as it had.

Well no, it wasn’t quite like that. She still hated it when she turned someone to stone, and she still struggled with that dread wherever she went. But the drive for it wasn’t as strong as it had been when she had found someone she had cared for. Maybe that was ridiculous. But then, Celia had often thought more about other people’s needs than her own.

“I understand. But I’m not sure that you could do much if a sorcerer decided to change a spell on a whim. Would we even be able to tell?” Celia wasn’t sure that she would be. That was something that made her nervous. She didn’t in the slightest trust sorcerers. Not anymore. “I’m not sure how we could do a proper trial run to avoid….to avoid making things worse.”

Celia ran a hand through her hair and made a face. “You’re…probably right. I just hate the idea. It just unsettles me.”

Mike kept telling himself this wasn’t a no, this wasn’t a no, this wasn’t a no. She had concerns. Of course she had concerns, a fucking sorcerer had bamboozled her after a traumatic experience to only further her pain, how the fuck couldn’t she have any concerns? He had anticipated this, he knew that bringing this up was going to be like he was pressing on a bruise. He just needed to be gentle, not push to harsh or else he would end up hurting her, too, and that was the last thing he wanted to do here.

“I know, I know it does. It unsettles me, too,” he nodded. “You know how jumpy I am, I would never want to bring you into a situation that put you in danger, alright?” 

His hands fidgeted against one another, wanting to reach out, but he knew that was probably a bad idea. Another side effect of the turning to stone thing, the need for that physical connection and touch. At least, that’s what he believed it to be, that need to know that you could still feel after not being able to do anything as a rock. 

“I get it, and I’m not asking you to trust whoever we find or someone else.” Mike took in a breath, trying to settle himself against the rattling nerves. He tilted his head a little, giving her a soft, reassuring smile, “I’m asking you to trust me because you’re not going in alone this time. I’m going to be there and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.” 

[causeimmroogieboogie]

Close Enounters || Mikie

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

causeimmroogieboogie‌:

Oogie smiled back, more out of smugness than genuine pleasure - though he’d long since learned to make both expressions practically interchangeable. After all he’d passed the first hurdle with such ease, it was hard not to feel a little pleased with himself, as he stepped without a hitch into the demonologist’s office.

“Well,” he said, raising his hands briefly before clapping them together, “I’m trying to focus my campaign on preparing for and identifying potential threats, and I realised demons aren’t quite something people talk about very often. They’re a little bit to invisible. A little too close to home. When one thinks even their best friend could be possessed and one might hardly know it.” 

His eyes scanned the room, half nervous to touch anything, in case it could be trapped, before settling back onto the object of his interest, the man before him. Now he was inside, and the door was shut, it suddenly felt a little more risky than he’d persuaded himself on the way there. A little too much like a murderer, returning to the scene of the crime.

“My point, I suppose, is that I’d like to educate myself on them. And in turn help to educate the town’s population. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours that there’s a portal to the underworld somewhere in town. I don’t know how true it is, of course. But if it is, I would imagine it might put us at greater risk.”

Mike struggled for the next several seconds in the decision to shut the door or to not shut the door. In the end he pushed it closed, thinking that since this was going to be about the election then Mr. Marks probably wanted some kind of privacy, right? Right. So. Door shut. Good. Okay. 

He turned around, stepping into the room to follow after as Mr. Marks began to speak. And, you know, this was weird. The Demonology world had been saying shit like that since the beginning, since Demonology had been created. He felt the words like weights in his chest because they were that true, that real. 

Hell, it had happened to him and he was supposed to be an expert on Demons. Mike swallowed thickly, trying to remove the sudden knot of emotion that had clumped there at the thought of Sarina. 

“Yeah! Yes!” Mike nodded enthusiastically. He grinned and let out a little breath of disbelief and relief. “I can’t even begin to tell you how great that is! I mean, us Demonologists can preach this stuff until we’re blue in the face but it never feels like anyone will ever listen. Of course, I would be- agh, over the moon to help get the word out about how to prevent this kind of stuff from happening to people, you have no idea.” 

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

Confront Your Demons || Panic and Mike

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

panicked-percy‌:

Panic was going to be a Father, it was a big life change and one that he couldn’t exactly deal with it on his own so he had gone out to talk to Sally. Welcomed a warm cup of tea and a friendly ear to talk to.

It ended up being a great visit too.

He was looking forward to heading to work with a new outlook on his life. A new story for him to tell though he was 100% not telling anyone else right now.

Pulling out his phone he started to reply to a text until he heard shouting and he glanced back raising an eyebrow at him. Panic had no idea who it was and neither did Percy.

“Me? If you’re going to talk election stuff I’m really not into all that shit.” The ambassador was running again which was an interesting thought.

He caught up and could only stare in awe at the man. Mike didn’t know why he was so startled by the fact that the Demon reacted to him like any other person would. The one that had been occupying Sarina’s body had been highly conversational. Maybe not this casual, but they had been chatty. It was just- weird. Usually he was watching them go all evil monologue before they got exorcised or tried to cut a deal with whoever.

He just sounded so...human. 

Finally he broke out of his trance, confused by the reply until he laughed. Mike waved his hands in front of him, shaking his head.

“No! Oh, nonono, nothing like that.” Mike smiled, that awkward fake thing that always showed up on his features in situations like this. His mind worked, trying to fumble through the flashcards he’d memorized for this moment. This big, grand, life changing moment of meeting a Demon who could hold a conversation! 

“It’s uh- kind of hard to explain? So let me- wait, okay, context would probably be-. I’m Mike. Wazowski. Mike Wazowski. And I work at the university, I’m a-” he sighed, fuck it. “Well, I’m a Demonologist and seeing as you’re hosting a Demon, I think we’d have a lot to talk about.” 

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

Bubble, Bubble, I’m in Trouble || Artemis and Mike

[wazowskiofthemikevariety]

artemis-iokheaira‌:

Artemis’ attention was immediately captured by the poltergeist hovering just behind the mouse-man. The energy crackled in the air. It was cold as a snow-storm. Wind kicked up, dust swirling. The debris of the rotted floor vibrated, though it did not lift off the ground. It just rumbled like it wanted to.

She watched as the tie was gripped in the poltergeist’s hand. Quick as a flash, the poltergeist had twisted the mouse-man’s neck and was dragging him thrashing like a fish from the water. 

It did not take more than a few steps before Artemis had reached behind her, slinging her bow from off her shoulder and pulling an arrow from her quiver. She notched it with practiced ease, breathing out calmly as she raised it level. The tip of the arrowhead pointed right at the poltergeist.

The spectre cackled gleefully, the sound bouncing around the room, so even the mortal could hear.

“What? Are you going to shoot me?” it taunted.

Artemis let the arrow fly. It shot sharp and true through the air, severing the mouse-man’s tie, right between where the poltergiest was holding it and the top of the mouse-man’s head. It whistled through the spectre and embedded itself in the wall behind.

She notched another arrow as quick as the first. 

“Leave him alone,” she growled.

Tears swam behind his eyes, he shook and quivered with the pain that cracked through him that cracked like shears over shrubs. His lungs burned, his neck felt like it was going to collapse against the harsh yank of the tie. He wanted to scream when he watched as she went to release the arrow that looked like it was aimed right for him, but sound couldn’t push passed the pain stuck in his throat. (And he was going to have to just gloss over the fact that this lady was holding an actual bow and arrow because he just could not deal with that information at the moment.) 

The tension of his tie released and he stilled on the floor, besides the rapid up-down motion of his chest as he heaved in air. He rolled onto his side, coughing over and over and over again, fingers scrambling to get the rest of the tie off. He loosened the knot, pulling it up and over his head to toss away with only a little remorse. 

Mike startled at the sound of her voice, looking up at her to find that she didn’t seem to be talking to him. Her eyes and arrow were trained on something above him. Something that he couldn’t see. 

The other half of his tie still hung in the air for a moment. His eyes tracked its movements as it fluttered down to the floor finally, landing right beside him. Mike stared at it for a few more second and then kicked and scrambled to get away from it. He managed to push himself up, stumbling to stand closer to the woman who seemed to be friend instead of foe. 

He swallowed harshly as he searched the room, still trying to find what it was she was looking at, “What-what’s here? What is it?”