#extraordinarygrrls

@extraordinarygrrls sent:

[  night  watch  ]  june refuses  to  sleep  deeply, or really at all, listening  for  every  shift  or  breath from Robocop. She comforts him at the slightest sign of distress from traumatic nightmares that she herself is prone to, she even wrapped a blanket around him. She wanted to make sure he felt comfortable. Human.

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞  𝐨𝐟  𝐲𝐨𝐮

Murphy's cybernetics meant he didn't sleep the same way a regular human would, it'd be more accurate to call it resting with his eyes closed, considering he's chosen to power down more or less, turning off his non-vital systems to allow his brain the necessary rest period all humans need. And his systems to do their quiet diagnostics whilst he replenishes the energy reserves his power supply needs. He doesn't breathe, it hadn't been necessary since his augmentation, but the machines he's connected to would tell June that he is running at a roughly 95-98%, his optimum efficiency window.

Since arriving here, Murphy's woken up with a blanket draped over him more than once, or to June trying to reassure him when he awakens suddenly due to a nightmare. She hasn't listened to him in the past when he'd told her he didn't need her be standing vigil at his side all night, as much as he appreciates the concern, he'd rather not be a reason she's not looking after her own needs.

The work had been dangerous. Too dangerous to continue, although West would never admit to this. After branching out from just re-animation of corpses to the re-animation of parts, and zeroing in on the idea that reagent was less of a miracle cure and more of a nutritional supplement, he had been having more success than ever. 

And then Dan had to go and ruin it. 

They had been so close with Gloria. So close. Although that was years ago, not a day goes by when Herbert doesn’t think about what could have been, how they could have pushed their research, the potential she had - it was a tragedy. The collapse of the mausoleum and the deaths in Christchurch Cemetery were simply collateral damage. No, the real tragedy was the untapped potential, the poisonous dreams of what could have been. What should have been.

Francesca was…a problem. She had always been a problem. In Peru. In America. Any time she showed up, it was as if Dan’s brain seemed to cease functioning altogether. Herbert supposed he couldn’t hate her too much, however, seeing as she was willing to let him stay with them. Build a lab in their house. Be close to his only friend. Trying to keep to himself and carry on his research had resulted in an incredible change of perspective. Over the past few years, he had taken an entirely new direction. Francesca had inadvertently given him everything he needed to pursue the work. 

He would continue tonight, of course. He did every night. Regardless of if he was supposed to be watching Abigail or not. While Dan was home, and appearances had to be kept up, he remained upstairs. Polite. Placid. Seemingly innocuous as he silently observed, waiting for him to leave. No mention of taking Abigail down to the lab. No inkling that she would be helping him in his research. Not until they were left alone and he hovered in the doorway, smiling pleasantly at the girl. 

He did not come here for the sake of starting a fight.  The days had not been kind to the hellspawn, night after night….nightmare, after hellish nightmare.  “I did not come here to bring you harm, I came here to extend to you my apologies.”  No matter how often his mind and soul would be taken from him, being split between humanity and the depth of hell….in the end, it would always come back to him.  Grasping onto humanity, his only way of not being taken and lost forever.  “What I…did to you, the things that I showed you.  Was something I should not have done.”  He was not asking for her forgiveness, nor did he expect it to be given to him.  

“But I do need your help with something…if you are willing.”  There was trouble in the outside world, someone, the Hellspawn knew in his past life…coming back seemingly to try and kill him again.  “There are people, people who are in danger, and I can not let them die due to my own past mistakes.  So, will you help me?”  

"I don't believe anyone schedules disorder, Hotaru." She said, looking at him from the growing painted garden on her laboratory wall. "It simply has a way of invading one's life. I suppose in Chaosrealm they said aside time for it, but is routine chaos true chaos?"She pursed her lips. "Though, I suppose if you ascribe to chaos theory, as I do, then nothing is truly disordered, because each moment in time is simply a unit in some great cosmic equation...""I find something... Comforting, about that.".

What he has said was supposed to be a joke, which, by the way, was an almost unheard of occurence, but it clearly fell flat. Plus June was right, it didn't really make sense, because disorder was always on his schedule. 

"I agree. I don’t know how much you know about the clergy in Chaosrealm, but I enjoy anticipating their actions. Chaos is not unpredictable. Every day, they wake up, what are they going to do that day? Chaos. The next day? Chaos. Every day. Chaos."

It was actually a good thing that June somewhat took him seriously - no doubt shocking nobody, Hotaru very much enjoyed talking about order and chaos.

“I’m not a scientist and I’m not going to pretend I am as smart as one. But it seems to me that chaos theory is more of a limitation on human civilization's ability to make precise measurements.

"The uncertainty principle guarantees a way to predict the average outcome and characteristics of any situation or object. Even the entropy of the universe in physics is a solidly calculable value. By the way -- you humans need a better term for thermodynamic entropy, at least in English." 

@extraordinarygrrls

“Do you …  live here?” did he sleep in his office? "I've never actually seen you leave the station. It's a little concerning, you should go home, Peter, you need a break from the case. It has a way of messing with people's heads, my head is messed up enough without it."

“I WORK LATE.” His response was immediate — zero hesitation, and surprisingly defensive. Strahm didn’t live at the station, but he hadn’t been back to his apartment for days now. He’d pulled several all-nighters so far this week. Yes, he was exhausted, but the Jigsaw killer never rested, so why should he?

          :･ﾟ🌪️┇ The Sky Temple is in shambles — hardly standing on its hinges — the Jinsei corrupted. It will not respond to its protectors any longer. Raiden and Fujin were found at the bottom of the mountain, bloodied, bruised and broken, by the Special Forces who had rushed to help upon noticing the invasion — whether they got there too late or not remains to be seen.

             Fujin is the first to awaken. He knows where he is, though he is slightly disoriented. People surround him. Talk to him. He responds with a croak in his throat. Asks about Raiden who is still unconscious. When they leave him, he’s never felt so alone. Grief plagues his heart, and it takes all his strength not to burst into tears. So he sleeps because it’s all he has left — he sleeps and dreams of Netherrealm invasions, of oni’s mutilating the monks and residents below. He dreams of times long past when — when —

             His eyelids flutter open, the shine in his eyes following those of someone by the door, partly hidden and hugging the frame, not unlike a meek child. He shifts. Winces. Then attempts a smile, glad for the distraction. ❝Hello.❞

“Not even a little, kiddo,” he responds lightly, reaching out to ruffle her hair on instinct. He’s a dad no matter who’s talking to him--as long as they’re younger, he becomes their dad. It’s instinctive at this point. “Listen, if Raidude wanted to vaporize me, he’d’ve done it twenty years ago, when I was actually insufferable.”