049×035 oneshots

Unorthodox Admiration

In which the author indulges in a scenario he simply enjoys the thought of.

Warnings: mentions of suicide

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The Possessive Mask's face twisted into tragedy as their- a new possibility unheard of before their most recent breach. They quite liked the idea of gender-free pronouns, and had been trying them out for the past week or so- host was finally subdued and they were plucked from the mostly-rotten face. They had been doing so well, having charmed their way onto rather fancy cruise ship with a course set to Hawai'i, when the transport van pulled up on the dock. They were essentially pouting as they were set in a case of bulletproof glass, resisting the urge to make the guards sitting on either side of them at least a little bit suicidal. 

If the Foundation knew they could still send and receive thoughts through the thick glass future transports would, without a doubt, be incredibly boring. The van seemed awfully big for just themselves, they noted. and, judging by the annoyance emanating from a fair few of the MTF, the mask might even find themself a new 'acquaintance' or two. In spite of the excited anticipation, they kept their frozen frown. Obvious plotting tended to make the guards nervous, and being trapped in a room with a shit ton of half-panicked assholes was a one-way ticket to a killer migraine. 

The vehicle carried on for some time, so long that they found themself slowly drifting into dormancy simply to avoid the temptation of spicing things up when the van came to a sudden stop, MTF mobilizing, leaving the van, and then returning again with a large, partially cybernetic bear following behind them that glared at the mask in the display case. 

They couldn't help but grin. They had been in range of the circus-bear's mind for only a short time. Unnaturally intelligent as it was, it was not by any means difficult to trick the beast with a simple illusion. Frankly, they were surprised the animal was loose for so long. They weren't impressed, of course, but the thought of a future breach with it, perhaps one on better terms, was alluring enough that they attempted to communicate with the creature for a time, somewhat losing themself in the silent conversation which slowly drifted from defusing obvious contempt to creating new hatreds in a far more... productive direction by nudging the bear with nearby internal whispers regarding a Frank Simms. 

The van filled further, seats, cages, and cases occupied with those who escaped during the mask's manufactured chaos. They finally allowed their focus to move from the fuming cybernetic bear, and were nearly sent reeling with the force of surrounding, errant thoughts. Conflicting emotions clashed, ranging from relief, to fury, to melancholia. Plans for violence interrupted those for lunch, the oozing of corrosive coming from the mask picked up, dripping from their porcelain face and onto the uncomfortable base of reinforced steel they'd been set on. What they wouldn't give for a damn pillow... They checked around, observing. 

The van seemed almost full, at least. Even their boring-as-Styx cell would be better than this. Suddenly, the vehicle screeched to a halt, throwing them against the side of their case, and flipped a U-turn, suddenly speeding back in the direction it had come and then stopping again. The MTF were sent out. That was... odd. No one seemed to be going on about missed turns. This must have been unplanned.

The mask didn't have to wonder about the unorthodox halt for long, the doors opening and guards returning with... oh.... oh that was a pretty mask. Elegantly sculpted, looking to be made of some sort of ceramic, and so clean it looked polished. The figure wearing it didn't ring any bells, though they thought they might have seen similar robes once during a breach over half a year ago. Had she-he-it-they- the mask searched the van for any possible self-reference, or, really, for any part of the stranger's mind whatsoever, yet they found the only possible match, the only new mind within a car of clamor, was a sea of true, utter silence.