#scriptedstories

@scriptedstories

Henrik had been buried in his work when the slight purr broke his concentration. He blinked at the sound of bells, not unlike caroler chimes, and turned his head. Scattered along a stationary desk was a set of opaque vials and countless scrawls of theories and equations, some crumpled or even ripped.

"Ah, Marvin... I see you've broken containment again." Henrik hummed under his mask, a brow raise the only hint of an expression. "You keep doing zhat and ze agents will chip you like an actual cat.

-

The required isolation time had passed, and Noah was finally allowed to visit the location where the Invincible was being constructed for the first time since his return to Earth. His legs trembled with the pressure of a stronger sense of gravity, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. If anything, it was a better distraction from the nerves that were trying to bubble up. The Head Engineer hadn't been present during the talks to try and persuade Noah to join the team, and he wasn't quite sure what to expect.

Some reports said Mark was a genius. Others said he might possibly be insane. All Noah could do was hope that the truth was somewhat more reasonable.

Once the necessary checks were made at the various security points, Noah was presented with his ID card and redirected to the main workshop. The guards led him toward one particular individual that Noah recognised from one of the articles.

Returning here from whence he came, a haven the color of pitch, a void within the universe. Foreign and desolate to those who enter, except for him. To ruminate upon past events with a clear mind and to consider a new plan. New plan after new plan. Failure after failure. 

But there isn’t much time to reassess his situation, to try to make another hack saw that may cut through steel and glass bars. He isn’t alone. A foreign presence having him lift his head, searching through the cloying blackness, only to find an approaching figure. Dread is first to fill him, to have a less than welcomed snake breach his privacy once more, to send him down another rabbit hole. But instead, the entity freezes like a deer in the headlights for a much different reason. He knows this face, even if time, wear and tear has worn away the familiarity, and memory. 

From another lifetime ago, the roots of familial bonds that used to bind so deep. Now standing before him, emerging like a phantom, another ghost haunting his being. This is impossible. A cruel trick of the eye, a hallucination, a figment, you can’t be here- How are you here? For once he’s rendered speechless, brows furrowing in utter shock. Stepping forward, almost closing the distance, to reach out and touch to see if they’re really there, but one step is all he takes. 

❗️ - for my muse to hold your muse’s chin as a way of getting attention .

[ from your choice of Dark, because that’s just the Dark vibe ]

Yi hadn't been looking at Dark while he spoke, not bothering to want to look at him. Even if they had been freed of the mirror, they didn't feel the most amicable to the entity who placed them there. Or anyone who had been at that damned party, to tell the truth.

They’re escorted to the doctor’s … workplace, with agents flanking them on either side. They’ve long since been deemed dangerous, after that thing took hold of them. Human ( or at least they appear to be ) , and able to walk on their own. Hair is tied back loosely, with many strands falling out of place ; they’ve stopped bothering to fix it, anymore. They say nothing as they’re brought before him — they let agents do the talking, quiet as they listen to the exchanges and watch their surroundings. They’ve heard of him, of course, the “good doctor”, but have never seen the man face to face. In technicality, they still haven’t — the mask covering the bottom half of his face obscures much of his expression & appearance, in a way they assume is intentional. // @scriptedstories tristen has arrived !

@scriptedstories

"The anomaly is unlabeled at this time, though it responds to--," An agent was saying as Henrik wrote on his clipboard, though he looked up after a second. His eyes, a deep blue in color, glinted behind his glasses.

"Zhey, agent. Zhey respond to vhat name." The doctor put sternly. The agents cringed lightly at the low reprimand, but quickly course corrected.

"The name retrieved was Tristen. The overheads want you to see if they can help with Anomaly 114209 research, considering the observed link between them. That's all we know, doctor." The agent finished, swallowing when a few moments of silence followed. Henrik finished his note before nodding.

"Zhat's all I need from you zhen, agents. Dismissed." Came another brief, flat command. Without hesitation, both left out the sliding doors. The doctor gave a long sigh. "Can't find good help zhese days...

These are also the kind of supplies that Morgan comes into contact with, while merely trying to pass from one place to another.

Sitting up in the rafters is Maverick, at the ready. When Morgan steps into view, he allows them but a few seconds of safety before a water balloon is dropped precisely onto their head. His water gun is pulled out of a holster once his hands are free, readying himself for any kind of counterattack … or just another attack from himself to Morgan, if he found out they didn’t have any defenses. You know, one or the other, whichever plays out. // @scriptedstories maverick gunday attack !

Morgan's back pressed up against a nearby wall, sweat beading underneath the thick wool of their beanie as they held their breath. Their target had vanished deeper into the building, surprisingly stealthy despite all previous showings proving that Maverick had the sneaking skills of a goldfish. An incredibly loud goldfish. Trapped on land. But he was an international mastermind, even if half of that reputation was self-aggrandizing (He floated the idea that someday he'd have an entire organization dedicated to catching him; Morgan laughed it off).

They pushed themself off the wall and tucked into a (totally necessary) somersault, water swishing ominously in the tank of their water gun. It didn't have a scope, since it was cheap pink plastic, but Morgan raised the stalk close to their face like it had one anyway (they were in the zone). The swept the barrel from one side of the room to the other. No sign of-

SPLASH

She simply shakes the water off of her hand and gathers up the broken pieces without a word. Perhaps it’s the complete lack of expression on Andromeda’s face that leaves onlookers wondering if Mark had asked them to do it. Maybe he had, in an inadvertent way ; he hadn’t attempted escape when they approached ! // @scriptedstories andromeda gunday attack !

Mark knows what day it is. He knows the name of the game, and the players, just like Andromeda undoubtedly does. He should be running, or readying his own water balloon, anything!

Instead, he’s perplexedly watching her approach him. Why is she so calm? Is it because neither of them are quite in the usual stories at the moment? In that case, it’s unlikely she can even do anything to him! After all, their actions are dictated by the script, so—

POP! Mark blinks as the water falls over him, soaking his hair, and dripping down onto his shoulders. They don’t even seem to care that they got him wet, from the way they’re picking up the pieces. “Why, you— you—” He scowls, shaking himself off. “Fool me once and all, I suppose. You’re paying for my dry cleaning.”

@scriptedstories

-

Okay. So MAYBE he had told people that he was going on a walk. And MAYBE he had lied about that. MAYBE his intention was instead to go to a quiet, secluded part of the rec yard and light up a cigarette. He'd been good! He earned it!

(Even if he had been telling people he was cutting down.)

Hissing under his breath, Yancy's full attention was on the flimsy matchbox, trying to get one of the matches to light. They were cheap and thoroughly unreliable. But when he finally got one to light -

SPLASH!

Yancy was doused from above!

"What in the shit??"

No one was around that he could see, and looking up only caught him a glimpse of brown before his vision was obscured by a green water balloon exploding in his face.