malinryden
patreon
1.2.5 Raccoons.
🕑 Added 2023-04-22 14:52:17 +0000 UTCWell, bit hungover from yesterdays work party but managed to bang out 3650 words or so of Argent and Sidestep shenanigans.
(guilty escape with Argent, no minor variables added yet)
----------------
Pain. Sharp. Blinding. Centered in your chest, broken ribs grinding sore muscles, every movement of your legs leaving you nauseous with agony.
You've gotten used to pain by now, even though you still hate it. You never knew how good you had it 'growing up', coddled by the pain-gate turning agony to discomfort. You doubt the Farm truly knows what power it gives to their Re-Genes. The pain-gate allowed you to exercise will over your body's involuntary functions, to let you destroy yourself in measured intervals rather than collapse in protective shock. Did it make things worse on occasion? Yes, of course. Pain is there to protect your body from breaking further, but broken bodies can be fixed. Death is permanent.
*if gate >= 4
Right?
Did the pain-gate break with you against the hard asphalt below that room full of nightmares that was the Heartbreak Incident? Perhaps. Was it taken out or sabotaged while the Farm was stitching your broken body together afterwards? Equally likely. All you're certain of is that after the fall, you had to go through every agonizing breath afterwards. Local anesthesia can only go so farm and the blissful darkness of sleep was denied you. Were they afraid to put you under?
*if gate >= 4
They were. And rightly so.
You've blanked out most of those first months, there was nothing there worth remembering, even in your nightmares. A second birth, more traumatic and painful than your first decanting. The farm. Your creators.
Did they put you back together wrong, all those years ago?
*fake_choice
#They put me together wrong, this is their fault.
*if motivation = "fate"
They did something to you, of that you are sure. Put you together wrong. Set you on this path.
It's only right they get to reap the whirlwind of ${villain_name}'s wrath.
*else
Did they put you back together wrong? Is this the Farm's fault?
Probably. $!{villain_name} is their creation, like it or not.
#No, they set me free, finally.
*if motivation = "fate"
They did something to you, alright. They set you free. Set you on this path. Birth is always painful, but you hold no gratitude for your cruel midwives.
It's only right they get to reap the whirlwind of ${villain_name}'s wrath.
*else
The farm didn't do anything but set you free. Whatever bonds you had with your past were cut on that operating table, and what remained shriveled during the captivity afterwards.
The farm might have messed ${name} ${surname} up, but they set ${villain_name} free.
*selectable_if (motivation != "fate") #Maybe. I don't want to think about it.
Maybe the Farm messed you up, but didn't they do that back when they decanted your mewling teenage form all those years ago? You try not to think about it.
What's the use? $!{villain_name} is here to stay.
#The farm has nothing to do with this. This is all me.
*if motivation = "fate"
The Farm has nothing to do with this, this is fate. You were always meant to walk this path, you can feel the weight of inevitability with every step.
${!villain_name} was always your destiny.
*else
The Farm has nothing to do with this. They're a painful memory, an obstacle in your path. Nothing more. You've crafted ${villain_name} from past mistakes.
Let nobody say you're not responsible where you go from here.
"Don't black out on me." Lady Argent's voice cuts through the pain, and you leave your memories of the Farm behind to focus on the present pain. You're slung over Argent's shoulder, wrapped in bedsheets that does little to dampen the pain of her bony shoulder digging into your sore body. She's got an arm wrapped around your leg casts, but even at her most gentle, every movement hurts.
*if tall
Your head dangles uncomfortably close to the ground,
*if hairstyle = "long"
your hair brushing against the dirty asphalt.
*else
if your hair was longer it would have dragged behind you.
She's so short.
"It... just hurts to breathe." And your legs doesn't help. "Nobdy's watching. Keep going." You've escaped the Rangers Headquarters, but the streets of Los Diablos are not safe. You might be able to turn people's attention away from your awkward duo, but you're already pushing your aching body. You need to get to the meeting point fast.
"Shit." The profanity is small and annoyed. "Hang in there." She sprints across the road after you've given her the all clear, and stops in a darkened alley to let you down on the ground.
"Ow, ${swear}," you swear through gritted teeth. The ground is softer than her shoulder though, and it is a relief to let your legs rest against the ground. "You can't dump me here, it's too close."
"I know. Shut up, I'm thinking." She's pacing, silvery body turned golden in the orange streetlights.
"Not the best planned escape, is it?" Your breath feels as ragged as your words.
"I came to see why your plan had failed, I hadn't planned on breaking you out." She tilts her head, looking down at you. "Would you rather I had not?"
"No," you admit, despite the cold sweat on your forehead. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to point out sloppy work when I see it."
"You're the one that landed yourself in the hospital," she points out with a small smirk. "Don't move, I'll be right back."
"Not like I'm gonna go for a walk," you hiss after her, scanning the surroundings for thoughts. None focused on you, the awake ones belong to the occasional driver heading down the street. And... oh no, a group of raccoons ransacking the bins of a nearby grocery store.
*fake_choice
#I pull back my thoughts quickly and become nothing.
Animals are not much less dangerous than people, and you're painfully aware that you're trapped here on the ground. You can't crawl fast, and you'd rather not have them crawl all over you. Luckily they are busy with their feast, and you sink back into your familiar thought-void, becoming less interesting than whatever they ave going on.
Animals don't have the same kind of minds that humans do, but the Rat King have taught you that doesn't mean they don't have thoughts. Feelings. Drive. There's secrets in there that don't need to be exposed. You can't risk distraction. Not now.
You're too exposed to afford to be sloppy.
#I'll linger to distract myself with their antics.
Raccoons are strange, like all animals are. Their minds are streams instead of oceans, trickling by, giddy with activity and life. No brooding. No introspection. Just happiness, fear, hunger and joy. A family unit, the bubbles of love and care popping with rivalry over the same piece of discarded sausage.
It's not thoughts exactly, and once upon a time you would have dismissed them as important. The Rat King helped changed that, show you that maybe an animal mind wasn't less as much as strange. Understanding always slammed your face in the wall when it came to animals before, but you've learned to relax and not bother with that.
You don't need to understand when you can experience. You don't need to paddle a boat when you can drift along the river, trying to decipher senses and emotions you have only vague approximations of.
Was this what it felt like becoming human?
A sound disturbs the raccoons, and they scamper away, choosing fear and caution over curiosity. That's how they stay alive.
You'd do well to learn from them.
Scanning the area reveals nothing new, but Lady Argent's mind is approaching. No hint of fear or haste, so you pull back lest you'd disturb the sharks.
"Got your ride," she calls out as he approaches, dragging a grocery shopping cart behind her.
"You can't be serious." You stare at her in disbelief, but she shrugs. "Why not steal a car?"
"Don't need to leave that kind of evidence behind." She uses her sharpened fingers to snip off the front end of the cart so you can fit easier. "There were no safe cars around here, certainly none I could talk into helping."
"This is ridiculous." You look at the cart, it's one of the longer ones for big hauls, but your feet are still going to stick out.
"Stop whining, let me get you up here." She leans down, and you suppress a scream as she lifts you effortlessly off the ground. It hurts to be placed in the cart, but once you're scooted to the back, the casts support your legs enough that it's bearable.
"I'm not whining," you whine. "You really do have the worst bedside manner."
"I'm risking my career for a known criminal." She starts pushing the cart down the alley. "You'd think ${che}'d be grateful"
*fake_choice
#"I am, I just need to get the tension out somehow."
"I am grateful," you say, leaning back in the cart. The sheets are slipping and your arms are bare, but you can't pull it up since you're sitting on it. "I just need to get the tension out. Somehow."
"I understand." Lady Argent is moving as fast as the cart can handle, but her voice is soft in your ear. "So do I."
"Glad we undrestand each other." You let the silence linger, the sounds of cart wheels on asphalt loud enough to drown your unease. Almost. "Doesn't mean I'm not grateful, though."
#"You'd think so." My laugh is sharp. "I'm used to disappointing people."
"You'd think so," you say with a sharp laugh, more of a growl than something truly mirthful "I'm used to disappointing people."
"Sounds like a terrible thing to get used to." Lady Argent is moving as fast as the cart can handle, but her voice sounds almost sad.
"I've had to get used to worse things." You let the silence linger, but when the sounds of cart wheels on asphalt don't drown out your conscience you add a soft "But thank you."
#"Thought Ortega would have warned you I'm like this."
"Thought Ortega would have warned you I'm like this." You smile through the pain, better to keep your mind on other things.
*if ortegaargentpoly
"You say that as if it's a bad thing." Lady Argent is moving as fast as the cart can handle, her laugh as sharp as the rattling sounds of cart wheels on asphalt. "You know where ${his} tastes lie."
"Assholes both of us." You grip the sides of the cart to steady yourself, trying to ignore the fact that your arms are bare. You're sitting on the sheets, not like you can pull them up. Not right now. "Thank you for not leaving me back there."
*else
"Ortega talks a lot of shit." Lady Argent is moving as fast as the cart can handle, but the rattling from the cart wheels doesn't drown her sigh. "I prefer to form my own opinions."
"Thank you for that." You grip the sides of the cart to steady yourself, trying to ignore the fact that your arms are bare. You're sitting on the sheets, not like you can pull them up. Not right now. "Thank you for not leaving me back there."
"No matter the kind of shit you've pulled, I couldn't leave you there." You can feel her unease, your fate hits too close to home. This could have been her, if her secrets had been found out. Nobody would let her walk around the city a free woman, not with what she carries.
"Are you going to tell the others?" Even if she'd lie to you, you can tell a lot from her initial mental reaction.
"No." She thinks it's the truth, what is one more secret?
*if ortegaargentpoly
Kissing won't change her priorities.
"Ortega's going to blow a gasket."
*if ortega_relationship = "Re-Gene copy"
$!{he} might not think you are the real ${name}, but you are still a walking clue to ${his} past obsession. Not to mention the fact that you are ${villain_name}, though you can't shake the feeling that's secondary to ${him}.
*else
What will ${he} think when you're suddenly gone? That the things you said would happen did?
"Do you want me to tell ${him}?"
"Tell ${him} what? That you broke me out? That'd land you in no end of trouble, and you know it."
"That's not what I asked. Do you want ${him} to know you're..." a pause as she's considering what word to use. "...safe?"
*fake_choice
#"Yes, ${he} deserves that much."
"Yes," you admit with a sigh. You can't deny how you feel, even if it would be simpler to do so. "${he} deserves that much."
"I'll find a way of doing it that doesn't leave either of us in trouble." Lady Argent keeps pushing the cart, but you can feel her mind racing.
"How?"
"I don't know yet," she admits. "I'll think about it."
#"Yes, ${he}'d tear up Los Diablos looking otherwise."
"Yes," you say with a frustrated sigh. You wish Ortega wasn't so... Ortega, but you might as well wish for pigs to fly."${he}'d tear up Los Diablos looking otherwise."
"You've got a point. I'll have to find a way of doing it that doesn't leave either of us in trouble." Lady Argent keeps pushing the cart, but you can feel her mind racing.
"How?"
"I don't know yet," she admits. "I'll think about it."
#"If you can do it without risk to yourself."
"If you can do it without risk to yourself." You know Ortega won't rest until ${he} has some answers, but giving ${him} some might land you both in trouble.
"I'm not going to do anything stupid." Lady Argent keeps pushing the cart, but you can feel her mind racing. "I'll figure out some way to handle it without involving us."
"How?"
"I don't know yet," she admits. "I'll think about it."
#"No. It's safer to tell ${him} nothing."
"No," you say reluctantly. Your escape has gone smoothly if uncomfortably so far, you can't risk that just to give Ortega a good night's sleep. "It's safer to tell ${him} nothing."
"Agreed." Lady Argent keeps pushing the cart, but you can feel her mind racing. "I'll do my best to keep ${him} off the track."
*if ortega_relationship = "broken trust"
She clicks her tongue in annoyance. "It's not going to be easy."
#"No, ${he} doesn't deserve to know."
"No," you say with emphasis. Ortega is not a part of your life anymore, ${he} made that abundantly clear. "$!{he} doesn't deserve to know."
"Brutal." Lady Argent keeps pushing the cart, but you can feel her mind racing. "But I get it. I'll do my best to keep ${him} off the track."
*if ortega_relationship = "broken trust"
She clicks her tongue in annoyance. "It's not going to be easy."
*if ortega_relationship = "Re-Gene copy" #"$!{he} doesn't think I'm real, don't tell ${him} anything."
"$!{he} doesn't think I'm real," you scoff. "Don't tell ${him} anything." You remember the look in Ortega's eyes, you don't think there's anything left for you there.
"${he}'s being an asshole." Lady Argent keeps pushing the cart, but you can feel her mind racing. Upset on your behalf. "I can't blame you for being angry. I'll do my best to keep ${him} off the track."
"Thank you." Too much gratitude in one day, must be the painkillers. Or the pain. Both of them are making you woozy. "How much further?"
"Not far." She slows down, taking her bearings. "Just another block."
"Good." You breathe a sigh of relief. "Just get me to the intersection and leave me there, out of sight."
"Seriously?" She keeps walking, pushing the cart ahead of her. "Just leave you there?"
"Yeah. You've got a problem with that?" You try to decipher the pitter-patter of her thoughts, but she's guarding her core well, if not her worries.
"Your legs are broken. You're running a fever. Your breathing sounds like your ribs have been smashed. And you're dressed in a hospital shift leaving your ass bare, and a couple of sheets. I've seen hobos more equipped for surviving in the streets."
"Hobos are better equipped than most for that," you correct. You should know, you were one of them once. "And I'm a telepath. I can take care of myself."
"Oh, I stand corrected." She lets go of the cart, and it slowly grinds to a halt. "I didn't know you had this covered."
Almost imperceptibly slowly, the cart begins to roll backwards, down the slight incline.
*fake_choice
#"Come on, Angie," I look around nervously. "Don't be an asshole."
"Come on, Angie." You echo Ortega's nickname as you look around nervously. "Don't be an asshole."
"I'm just making a point." But she catches the cart and begins to push it towards your destination once more.
"I know I need your help, I'm not arguing that." You let out a frustrated huff. "But you don't need to stick around and play nursemaid once we're there."
#"If I crash and die," I tease, "I'll come back and haunt you."
"If I crash and die," you tease, giving her a forlorn look over your shoulder. "I will come back and haunt you."
"Really?" Argent rubs her chin thoughtfully, then finally she reaches out to catch the cart before it can gather speed. "I'd better deliver you safely then. You've already been in one crash."
"Really?" You look up at her. "You'd miss out on my angry ghost?"
*if argentkiss
"Hard to kiss a ghost." She leans down to place a peck on your forehead. Her hair lands heavily on your face like liquid metal.
"Smooth," you tease. "But I still don't need a nursemaid."
*else
"I've got enough already," she teases back. "Don't need yours too."
"And I don't need you to stick around playing nursemaid."
#"Are you five?" I snap. "This is my life you're playing with."
"Are you five?" You give her a glare over your shoulder. "This is my life you're playing with here."
"Fine." Argent catches the cart, and begins to push it towards your destination. "I was just making a point."
"I know I need your help, I'm not arguing that." You let out a frustrated huff. "But you don't need to stick around and play nursemaid once we're there."
"Fine." She sighs deeply. "I just want to remind you that if I hadn't decided to check if your plan was working you'd still be stuck back there."
"I'm not going to introduce Lady Argent to the people picking me up."
"Your henchmen you mean? Why not?"
"Because you're scary. You think they'd gonna pull up to a Ranger? They'd think it was a trap and hit the gas."
"You've got a point." She doesn't sound like she's too pleased with it. "I will wait behind the house. If something goes wrong you can do your little telepathy thing and call me in, right?"
"Little telepathy thing." You sigh and shake your head. "But fine, we can do that. Just help me pull the sheets up first so I can keep some of my dignity."
"Are they going to be alright with..." She brushes her fingertips over your arm, and you nearly jump.
"They have to."
*if boss_secret
You haven't shown your face to anybody. That's going to be bad enough. But it's not like you have a choice, you need someone to get you out of here, and your normal second set of hands is unavailable.
*else
At least you've shown your face. That's better than nothing. It's not
like you have a choice, you need someone to get you out of here, and your normal second set of hands is unavailable. You can't wait for whatever drugs they have pumped you full with so you can get out of this broken shell and into someone that can do so work.
${puppet_name} is going to be invaluable in the coming weeks.
"Do you want me to leave you here?" Argent helps pull the sheets up so you can cover your arms. She's parked you in the shadow of a building near the side road where you've told
*if boss
Pelayo
*elseif rosie
Rosie
*else
Bo
to pick you up.
"Yeah, but you can hang around until I can sense their approach." She's made you nervous, and so many things can happen in Los Diablos. Better to have company for now. You don't doubt she'd hang around to see who it is regardless, so you might as well embrace what little safety you have left.
*goto fusedpickup
Comments
snickering eggplant
Ngl I sometimes wish I could have Sidestep's telepathy, but only with the animals. Their minds are so simple, alien yet soothing, free from the more complex emotions and trappings us humans have. When Sidestep was tapping into Spoon's mind I paused on that page for a very long time just imagining how wonderful it is to be drowned by happy, single-minded dog thoughts...
squirrelybird
Being carried potato sack style while nothing but a mess of broken bones and bruises = big yikes. Being carted around like groceries = Too funny & another top tier Sidestep + Argent interaction, Iβm loving this dynamic and how Argent gives Step shit back.
