I had the chance to be picked by one of my fav writers in the fandom aka @shortwaveattentionspan (donât be modest Charlie this is True) hereâs their part of the exchange! Itâs called Honey, I Think the Venus Flytrap Has Gained Sentience What Do We Do in this Circumstance? and honestly thatâs all you need to know to understand how great it is
my second writer was the equally talented @justasmalltownai! If you want to read about the Hephaestus crew (& especially my girl RenĂŠe) finally being given the time to heal and recover, you should check out their fic here! (itâs called the primary ingredient of miracle-gro (and why you shouldn't feed a flytrap coffee) and wow I really did get the best duo writers based on the length of the titles alone ahgfveh)
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my art piece for the @w359reversebang ! predictably, some fishburg smooches. the talented and generous @frith-in-thorns wrote Close Quarters based on it - hereâs her summary (and a link):
Mace adapts to the Hephaestus, zero gravity, his new crewmates, and one very grumpy doctor with a terrible bedside manner.
Summary: Eiffelâs Talent Show hiding place is carved out by an unauthorized plasma tool into a lab Hera canât see into. As thrilled as Eiffel is to hear about this awesome captain Lovelace, heâs still left with questions. Like why didnât they know about the previous mission? Why does Selberg sound like the Good Doctor Hilbert? And holy crap is that a spider?!
Summary: All Eiffel wanted was to hide from Minkowskiâs stupid talent show. He didnât mean to fall through the vents into a room thatâs... not supposed to be here? Or hear Doctor Hilbert (or is it Selberg?) in a recording he isnât supposed to be in either.Â
My fic for the w359 Reverse Big Bang! Written for @subsequentibisâs lovely artwork.Â
I was really surprised by how fun Mace was as a POV character -- Iâm glad to have stepped outside my comfort-zone characters here!
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Mace coughed up the remnants of cryo-fluid from deep inside his lungs. It burned the membranes of his throat and nasal passages on its way out. His eyes streamed.
"The discomfort is momentary, Officer Fisher," someone said. "You will feel better shortly."
He coughed again, and rubbed at his eyes. What he was feeling bloody well wasn't momentary. It was several minutes before he could finally see.
"Hey. You doing okay?"
He definitely wasn't yet firing on all cylinders, but he still managed to dredge up a smile for his commanding officer. "Cap'n Lovelace."
"That's not actually an answer," she pointed out.
He groaned. "Yeah, I'm okay. They did warn us coming out of cryo would be wretched." Although she looked suspiciously well put-together.
"I came out yesterday," she said, correctly reading his mind. (A useful trait in a captain.) "Then I brought Selberg out, and we checked conditions ahead of the rest of you."
Mace put a hand on the side of his cryo-chamber, ready to heave himself out. Then his brain unscrambled a little further. No gravity. He gave himself a tentative push, and marvelled as he drifted. "Wow. Guess we really are in space." He remembered now the first voice he had heard. "Was Dr Selberg here?"
"Yeah, he's over there with Hui," Lovelace said, gesturing down the shuttle. "He felt it would be more efficient to wake everyone up at the same time. Wake one person up, check they're not dead, then move on to the next. I figured I'd follow him with some emotional reassurance."
"Thanks," Mace said, although he was irritated too. What kind of doctor gave his patients the minimum possible attention in the name of efficiency?
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Hello writers! We know youâve been working really hard on your fics, and we hope youâve been having fun!
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Hiya! This fic is part of the Wolf 359 Reverse Big Bang! My artist was @aspectnotarized and their art is pretty awesome! So I totally suggest you check out their tumblr!
Plus this project was so much fun so thanks to the @w359reversebang mods for organizing and hosting everything! Theyâre amazing!
Note: I tried, I hope I did okay at the very least.Â
Fandom: Wolf 359
Words: 3,205
Summary:Â When Eiffel woke up this morning, all he wanted was to do was escape Minkowski's Quarterly Annual Talent Show. He did not mean to fall into a secret room, find creepy crawlies with too many eyes, and secrets that decided to change the way he sees their resident scientist.
AO3:Â https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709791
      âHello Dear Listeners! This is the audio log of Communications Officer Doug Eiffel. Itâs day 525 of the Hephaestus Mission. And I am in the ventilation shafts.â Eiffel said, faux chirpy attitude in his voice. âA ventilation shaft that Iâm pretty sure just loves me.â
     At that snarky remark, Eiffel dipped head first into a slanting vent. With a yelp, he proceeded to crash straight into a silver wall. A resounding bang left his ears in ringing pain. He sat up as much as he could in the enclosed space, rubbing at his head in agony.
     âOuch, fuck. Thatâs gonna leave a bruise. A goddamn painful bruise but I will still be avoiding our very own Dr. Jekyll when this all cools over. Back to what I was saying beforehand, Dear Listeners. Today is day 525 and it is a day I cannot wait for to be over.â After adjustments to the mic, Eiffel got back down on his stomach. He crawled in the only direction the vent allowed him to.
     He grunted with the effort to pull himself through the dust covered vents. Another turn in the shafts came up. Eiffel groaned at the sight of it.
     âWell, weâre having one of those days at the station. A very very bad one. I mean, every day is a good day with me around, I am the epitome of the days around here. However, today is one of the days that I stay indoors, donât need to get caught outdoors in a storm, am I right?â
     A soft chime played in the headphones that circled his neck. Eiffel froze, eyes wide in fear as the one voice he was avoiding came through.
     âCrew of the Hephaestus, this is Commander Minkowski. As I know that you are all keenly aware, it is time for our quarterly talent show. You all know that I am aware that you know it is mandatory to come. Since no one was in the cargo bay, I do hope none of you are hiding out right now but are all getting ready for the talent show.â One and only commander of the crew cleared her throat. âSo, as I stand in the coms room, to which I hope I just missed you Eiffel, I better not find anyone hiding out in the storeroom or any laboratory.â
     âHa! Storeroom idea was denied!â Eiffel crowed his success.
      âI hope to see both of you down in here the cargo bay in twenty minutes. If not, I will hunt you down.â Minkowski finished her monologue threat with a click of the PA chimes.
     âAnarchist.â Eiffel mumbled under his breath as he started to move forward again.
     Another slant in the vent came up and Eiffel guffawed at the vent. He tsked a finger at it. He twisted around till he had his feet going down first, not wanting to get caught in that trick again. A ping went through his headphones as he slid down the vent, feet steadied him as he arrived in an open area. Eiffel made a noncommittal noise when a thought came across him.
     âI wonder where our resident evil scientist is even doing today, dear Listeners.â
     A crackle of static burst sharply in the headset, making the man wearing them cringe.
     âEiffel, are you there?â Russian accent pierced through the otherwise silent vent.
     âSpeak of the devil and he shall appear! Hilbert! Howâs it going, Doc? Chewing any carrots today?â Eiffel joked as he sat down in the open space.
     âEiffel, there is no carrots on station. I could not have been eating carrots today.â Hilbert answered, confused.
     The only communications officer on board leant into his palm, âNever mind. Whatâs up, Doc?â
     The sound of clinking glass echoed through the headphones, âI have come up with solution to our âTalent Showâ situation.â
     Eiffel hummed in acknowledgement, a hand snuck into his side pocket as he pulled out a bag. He popped a cigarette candy into his mouth and leaned back against the wall. Hilbert continued, âGive me moment, Eiffel. I need to be precise with this.â A fizzing sound made Eiffel pause on the biting of his candy.
     âWoah, woah. What exactly are you doing?â Eiffel asked.
     âIt has been while but I remember I have degree in biochemistry. A handy degree in my experiment today.â Hilbert said, clinking of glasses clear through the headset microphone. âI have decided to make a narcotic and sedative, very powerful.â
     The human in the vent shaft rubbed his forehead, eyes closed and mouth set in a line. âDoc, you know we have gone over this. You donât need to go all evil scientist on us yet.â
     Hilbert only chuckled at that, the sound of pressure being closed off let Eiffel know the Russian had sealed his fate. Eiffel sighed. He peered down at one of the three entrances that lead into darkness. âOkay Captain Nemo, I gotta go before Iâm forced into the Temple of Doom.â
     Hilbert hummed into his mic, âI have completed sedation anyways, I will report later results.â The buzzer ended the conversation.
     âWell, I canât wait to see that result. For now, we need to get to a better hidey spot. Which shall it be? Creepy dusty shaft number one, darkness looming shaft number two, or definitely-not-hotel-cleaned shaft number three!â Eiffel gestured in a grand sweeping motion as he announced into his recording.
     Only the creaking of the Hephaestus answered the communications officer. He swung his flashlight towards the middle. Grimacing at the darkness that led ahead,
     âWe have a winner! Shaft number two is our winner! Come along, Listeners. We shall go on a very dirty adventure.â Eiffel said, flamboyance gone as he got to his hands and knees.
     Flashlight and recording device his sole companions in the darkness.
     It was a brisk twenty minutes later, when Eiffel once again ran head first into a dead end. His flashlight clattered to the floor that made him freeze as the sound echoed throughout the distant ventilation system. He didnât move for a few seconds before he scrambled to grab the flashlight. He held it close to his chest as a ding of his coms lit up his earphones. As he straightened up, his head set fell, the only man around reached for it as the voice of their resident scientist spoke.
     âEiffel? Eiffel, are you there? Complications have arisen!â Hilbert's frantic voice rose through the speakers.
     Eiffel scrambled to get the headset. His flashlight bobbed against the grey. His hands skimmed over the receiving end of the com before they grabbed it. He clutched at it as a loud creak groaned under him, he held his breath as the creaking began to settle into a low moan before it went silent.
     âThat doesnât sound good. Okay, if I just reach slowly acrossâŚâ A deep groan reverted throughout the area, Eiffel stood still. Took a slow breathâŚand shot his hand out, grabbed the headset, and curled up till the groaning stop. Everything settled. âOkay, Listeners, I think everything is under control...gotta check on Hilbert.â
     The buzzer broke through the silence. âEiffel. This is urgent!â
     A second voice came on the coms as Eiffel placed the headset around his neck, volume jacked up. âHiiilbert. Where did you gooo?â
     A frantic whimper echoed, âThis is an ur-zzzzz-atter! I need emergen-zzzzz-ack up-zzzz-â
     The communications officer looked down at the headphones, confusion across his face. He tweaked the small signal booster. âWhat? Doc I canât hear you. Something is blocking the signal-â
     Creaaaaak.
     Eiffelâs eyes widen.
     Crack!
     His mouth gaped as a crack in the vent broke in front of him.
     Bang!
With a snap forward, Eiffel flew into darkness.
     God, why was it so dark? Eiffel thought as pain hit him. He blearily opened his eyes, trying and failing to find any good light source in front of him. Blackness circled him. He shut his eyes again as a weight on top of him gained his awareness. He sat up, pieces of metal fell of him into piles on the floor. Squinted eyes caught a beam of light, he turned and pushed off pieces of vent from the torch.
     âWhy the hell is there so much gravity hereâŚ.â Eiffel mumbled as he got up.
     He raised his hand up to his ear, pressing lightly on it as he spoke. âHera? You there?â
     Only static responded to him. He frowned and tried again. âHey Doc, are you receiving?â
     Static once again responded, âGoddamn it...well, Dear Listeners. You guys are the only ones listening in now. Iâm going to explore and see how to get out or how to unblock this signal.â
     He swung his flashlight around, light illuminating a series of computer screens and lab tables in a surprisingly large room. The communications officer kicked a few stray metal pieces away. Curiosity made him wander towards the cabinets and lab tables covered in a thick layer of dust. With one finger he dragged it through the dust as he shined his light at the glass cabinets. Jars, full of floating specimens that he swears twitched at him, glinted back at him ominously.
      One jar in particular stood out. Coated in copious amounts of dust, he reached a hand out to pick up the jar. He tilted the light, a floating monstrosity sat in the liquid. Eiffel shuddered at the sight of it. A swish in the container made the human pull it closer to him for examination.
      âWhat are you-â In a blink of an eye, the spider-like creature turned a full one-eighty on him. A multitude of eyes stared as it attached itself to the glass in a loud thump. âHOLY SHI-â Glass crashed under his feet as Eiffel screeched. Instinct making him let go of the jar in fright.
      He scrambled away, flashlight aimed at the experiment. It only stared up at him, itâs dozen eyes blinking in unison at his paleness. It began to skitter to the down man before said human through his one and only flashlight at it with a scream of, âHELL NO, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, TOTO.â
      The thing hissed at him before it ran in the opposite direction, disappearing into the darkness that was of this mysterious room. Eiffelâsâ lungs shook at the effort to take in air, eyes focused on the flashlight a few feet away. If he concentrated, he could hear the skittering sounds of the spider.
      âWhy spiders? Why couldnât it be butterflies?â Eiffel grumbled as he stood a bit shakily. âIâll just hope that incident is purged from my mind by tonight.â
      Eiffel secured his flashlight once more and turned away from the lab area. His attention shifted away to the outdated computers across the room. He quickly scooted around tables and headed towards them. Flashlight set down to face the console, Eiffel rubbed his hands together. âNow, now. What do we have here?â
      Brown eyes focused on the keyboard laid out. He cracked his knuckles and began. Typing in codes to wake up the computer. âCome on you hunk of junk, I want to know all your secrets.â
     A blue screen loaded. Text popped up: Computer start up? Y/N
     Eiffel scoffed, âOf course. Letâs enter the Matrix.â
     The screen booted up, several terminal screens lit up in unison. Brightening the room and catching the officerâs attention. All the screens showed logs that had been previously recorded. They glowed red, dates labeled upon them. âThisâŚ. this is weird. There are audio logs on this computer. Iâm clicking on this first one, oldest it seems. Blast from the past, volume one. Here we go.â
     Click
     Static popped and a voice, loud and clear, came through.
     âHephaestus Station. Captain Isabel Lovelace here.â
     Her somber tone made chills crawl up Eiffelâs spine. A terrible gut feeling awoke in him, something wasnât going to go right.
     Four logs.
     Four logs with loss of crew, sickness, and oddities that could and did boggle the mind.
     Eiffel didnât know what to say.
      Eiffel breathed. âTwo more logs, Listeners. Two more.â He raised his eyes at the original screen. âVolume five of these accursed logs. I swear this is worse than opening that Ark.â
     Click
     âCaptain's Log. U.S.S. Hephaestus Station. Final entry.â Her voice held no room for cowardice or weakness, it stood firm with malice. âRun and hide. That's all I have to say to you. Run. And. Hide. Because I'm coming for all you bastards. You probably thought you'd never see me again. You thought if you just left us up here you could forget all about us. Out of sight, out of mind, huh? Jokes on you. You bastards killed most of my crew, but I'm still alive, and Dr. Selberg is still alive, and we have a way to get off this tin can. It's taken months, but we found a way. It's not gonna be pretty. It's not gonna be fast. But we'll make it back to Earth, and the first thing we're going to do as soon as we get home is find everyone involved in this sadistic little field-trip and make you pay. So, if you're listening to this: Run. And. Hide. Because by the time that I'm done you will feel more helpless and more alone than all the innocent people you've ever hurt. See you soon.â
     Eiffel stared at the screen. His mind a pot full of mixed reactions and confused thoughts. His mouth opened and closed. Never deciding one or the other. His voice caught. âCaptain Lovelace. I hope to the goddamn heavens youâre out there. I hope you and Selberg have made it through all this shit.â
     He shook himself and faced the screen. He had to do this. He had to find out.
     He clicked the mouse. He tried to prepare himself.
     âCâmon Eiffel. Be the Yoda you were always meant to be.â
     It wasnât working.
     The recording started to play.
     "This is Captain Lovelace of the USS Hepha-â A distant knocking interrupted the beginning of her speech. âItâsâŚ. Itâs open!â
      A new voice entered, lower and rougher to the ears, with an accent tinged on. A very familiar accented voice. âCaptain? Is this a bad time?â
Eiffelâs jaw dropped. His mind racing at that voice. It couldnât have been him.
     âNo, no. Youâre fine, Selberg. Just was trying to get some logs going. Whatâs going on?â Lovelace answered, a relief beneath her question.
     âEverything is ready. We can head downstairs when you are.â One sentence and Eiffel knew.
     Eiffel shook his head, backing away from the console with mutters that grew louder.  âNoâŚ.noâŚ.no! It canât be Hilbert! It canât-â
     Suddenly the coms set around his neck buzzed to life. The voice of their only scientist crackled to life. âEiffel! Please respond! Situation has gone critical and I am trapped!â
     Panic bloomed across his mind, he ripped the headset away from his neck and threw it as far as he could. It only bounced off the adjacent wall, still spewing static and Hilbertâs hails. Eiffelâs back hit his side of the wall. His mouth gaped, his lungs frozen. This couldnât be...why would Hilbert be Selberg? How did he survive? Where is Lovelace?
     Thoughts raced through his head, crashing into one another without abandon. His view of their resident scientist tilting so hard on its axis, his vision blurred to the point that he slid down the wall. Hands coming up to hold his head as the dizziness rocked him.
     White light fizzled into existence, Eiffel was far too gone in his own head to notice. The two opaque blurs moved around the room, projected light particles trailing after them. They engaged each other in what could be conversation. The taller of the two sat down in a nonexistent chair, leaning her face up at the other. âThank you, Dr. Selberg. This has been hard but I am glad youâre here.â
     âCanât beâŚ.â Eiffel said, fetal form curled tighter into itself as the holographic recording played and the headset let out one last burst of Hilbertâs terrified scream.
The standing figure only inclined his head. âAlways happy to be of assistance.â
     The room was buried in darkness, every inch dripped with inkiness. The barest of illuminations alighted the room. A dulling, white light cast itself over a huddle form in the corner. At a glance, the man looked frozen. As if death itself had touched him with the way his skin has turned pale from his natural darken skin. With hands over ears, the man tuned out the glitching figures by the console. One phrase in constant repetition. Â
                    âAlways happy to be of assistance.â
     A multitude of instruments were scattered around the console. None of them the right ones to stop the broken line. Across the room, the only door was sealed tight. Marks and other tools scattered around it too. The door itself bore numerous dents and scratch marks but no mark or sign of a successful open entrance. Only dust particles floated in the air, disturbed by the only visitor.
     The line stuttered, only one syllable stuck like a broken record. Eiffel glanced up, mind already forming a plan to get the radio working. Realizing this was his chance since the signal was blocked no more. He reached beside himself, headset in hand, to grab a small tool. Quickly, he dismantled the headphone casing. He pulled wires out and cut few in half. The voice in the background gained more of its sentence.
                         âAlways-AlwaysâŚ.â
     Eiffel eyed the white obstructions, âOh fuck off! You canât come over and try to drag me to the Dark Side forever!â he yelled at the two white figures.
      The headphone sparked brightly as two wires were connected. A static laced voice broke through. Eiffel smiled as the signal became stronger. He pulled his knees closer to him as a shiver racked his body. He raised the headset further, ignoring the penetrating cold.
      âIndia-Golf-Niner-Niner, do you copy?â Eiffel said, heart beating fast.
     âEi-zzz-el? Can you hear me-zzz-?â Heraâs sweet voice filtered through, Eiffel sighed in relief.
     âYes! I copy! God, you do not know how nice it is to hear your voice, Hera.â Eiffel answered. âCould you open this damn door? Please?â
     Hera paused for a few moments before she answered. âArenât...you outside?â
      He looked baffled, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. âNo, Iâm inside some room. Itâs as big as the observatory.â
     Heraâs humming went a few octaves higher. âIâm going to get-get Minkowski⌠actually Iâm going to get Hilbert because M-Minkowski is⌠a bit preoccupied.â
      âNo!â Eiffel yelled, body jerking forward to stop a non-existent force. âI mean, donât get Hilbert. Just...just help me find my way through the vents again?â
      âOf course, Officer Eiffel.â Hera said, a quiet tone set.
      âYouâre the best. You know that, right?â Eiffel said as he got up and scooted around the figures who still stuttered.
      âI know.â Eiffel could practically hear the smirk in her tone as he searched for something tall enough.
      âThanks, Hera.â Eiffel mumbled before he exclaimed a happy sound when he found something for the perfect height.
       Hera spoke with quirk of fondness as Selbergâs repeated mantra broke. âIâm always happy to be of assistance, Officer Eiffel.â
                            - Le Fini -