Written for the CIC on the TSFA (and the Alternative Universe Challenge)
Theme: Steampunk
AU: Alternative Victorian Steampunk
This AU is a mashup of a few others. It mixes steampunk, and a sort of alternate Victorian era. It doesn't have the best title, but for what I had in mind I wanted to give it its own sub genre of steampunk. but I am very proud of how this turned out.
Important to note: Being gay in this alternative society is just as accepted as being straight.
TW: Brief mentions of death, mentions of body horror (though not in depth)
Even as a young boy, Logan Sanders already exhibited signs of a bright, intelligent mind. He craved knowledge, using what little funds he gained during each work day to scrounge up enough for books. Or, if he was lucky, he could borrow a few from a kind or typically wealthy neighbor. His free time was committed to burying his nose in a book and reading rather than playing with the other children. He was used to being picked on, his bifocals tossed around and returned covered in dirt. He was taunted verbally and physically, but as long as he had his book still in his hands at the end, he could try and tolerate most of it.
Years came and went. Logan, orphaned at the tender age of ten, was sent to live with his wealthy aunt and uncle. Though they lived much more luxuriously than he had prior, they were very strict and bitter people. The young boy soon adapted to their rules and managed to stay on their good side, occasionally getting a reward for his good behaviour by being allowed to visit their library and take a few books back to his room. For his twelfth birthday, he was gifted an empty notebook. And that's when all the ideas he had stored in his head just poured out as he wrote, filling page after page. Noticing his potential, his aunt and uncle soon invested in a private tutor.
With his eighteenth birthday now here it came time Logan needed his own home, a place to house his workshop and future family. He built himself a home from the ground up, making a fabulous workshop for him to pursue his dreams to become an inventor. With his skills in math and science under his belt, he was determined to mark his name down in the history books. For what for, he wasn't quite sure. However, he would soon find out with one simple mistake . . .
* 1844 *
Logan hurriedly added more side notes to his already complex notes and diagrams that filled his worn notebook. He had a plan for a brilliant machine. It would look just like human man, only made from scrap metals. His inspiration? A book he'd recently gotten his hands on called . . . Frankenstein. It was a fascinating read, and it had him hooked.
Soon, Logan began collecting pieces for his machine. Scrap metals as well as stolen pieces from the streets soon collected into their respective piles in his workshop. He would take breaks from his work and stroll down the congested, dirty streets, keeping an eye out for anything the inventor could find of use. Turning down a rather dirty street, his eyes caught sight of a particularly gruesome sight.
A man, who looked like one who had not quite seen the turn of twenty had been thrown into a trash heap. By the looks of it, he'd been beaten and left for dead. Surely enough, the man was gone.
Hesitating, Logan walked over and knelt beside him, looking him over. He couldn't just leave him, could he? Swiftly yet carefully, he put the man in his scrap bag, hurrying back to his workshop. He laid the body across his table, looking him over. A new idea soon found its way into Logan's head. It was dark, disturbing. But in the end . . . he carried it out. His design received a few different amendments, as metal wouldn't be the only resource used . . .
*
So you found all the pieces
To initiate the plan
Our venom stains
The night remains
But the ending is always just the same
No gain
*
* 1845 *
Nearly two years of long and grueling work, and his fabulous creation was finally finished! A beautiful piece was he, a glorious hybrid of human and machine. The man, once a sad soul left for the dead, now had a new purpose. He served as framework for machinery and metals to create a humanoid figure who was no longer quite a man, nor was he just a simple machine. He was one of a kind. With his previously damaged face now part human skin, part gears and metal with a patchwork design resembling snake skin, he was stunningly gruesome, a true sight to behold.
Once his creation was finished, most of the problems now sorted out, Logan visited the local tavern for celebratory dinner. He found himself a seat and minutes later had food sat in front of him, smelling better than anything he'd had the past few months where he rarely left his workshop. Tonight, he shall eat and celebrate like a king! And once his creation is introduced to the public, he would surely get this treatment on a daily basis.
The candlelight giving his table a light glow flickered a little as someone approached his table. He glanced up, surprised to find his eyes gazing upon a rather attractive male. Where Logan was more of an intellectual, this man was clearly a player of sorts. He was used to making his way through life with charm and social status. He never had worked a day in his life, used to getting everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter, or so everyone said.
"Good day," He greeted with a charming smile. "I am Roman Highmore. If I may be frank, you are rather eye catching."
"Oh dear," Logan replied, dryly. "Please take my rather stony disposition as a sign of your eyes being tossed back to you." He spoke innocently, a little smirk lighting up his face.
"How rude." However, Roman spoke with a chuckle. "Do I have the honour of learning your name, oh witty one?"
"I am called Logan Sanders."
"Logan. A rather beautiful name. Simply rolls off the tongue."
"If your intention is to sweep me off my feet, I'm afraid you're quite mistaken. Now, if you excuse me, I must be going." Standing, Logan pulled his cloak on and started for the door. He was surprised and gasped lightly as his wrist was gently grabbed. He was spun around to face Roman, their faces close.
"If I may, I would like to attend an outing with you, for you intrigue me, dear Logan." Roman's voice was low, the tone keeping Logan drawn in and hanging onto every word.
"I am not so sure . . ." Logan bit his lip, worrying at it with his teeth.
"It would be well worth your time . . ."
Looking down, Logan's mind drifted for a moment. He thought back to his lovely creation. He'd doted on it for months, perfecting every little detail. He deserved a break, didn't he?
"I accept your invitation . . ."
*
Growing up, Logan dreaded his dancing lessons. He saw them as frivolous, and never understood why he needed to learn such things when he could be do something better with his time. However, Roman was quickly changing his views. His style of dancing was not stuffy but rather lively, keeping the two of them engaged, not only in movements but in deep, witty conversation as well. Logan found that Roman clashed perfectly with him, and oddly, it worked. He definitely found his attitude and sharper personality being matched for a change. And quite frankly, he rather liked it.
The two danced across the floor of a modest business of sorts, made specifically for dancing comfortably without too many strict etiquette rules holding them back. Logan, normally so calm and collected was left flustered by Roman and his actions, such as dipping him and staring into his eyes. The two were so caught up in each other that neither seemed to hear the thunder breaking overhead. It wasn't until lightning was visible thought the windows that they stopped dancing and went to seek shelter from the weather.
Meanwhile, Logan's workshop was receiving the brunt force of the weather. Wind ripped by, tearing off bits of the shabby structure. The creation rolled off his table, his protective sheet falling off and revealing metal parts to the open air. Thunder rolled . . . and then . . . the lightning strikes.
*
They have sent you a letter,
To come back home and play,
But to your dismay
This isn't your day
For the happy fun time
Has begun to fade
Watch as we reanimate
Our corpses you abandoned
We're dismantled
We're mishandled
But we won't be skipped and swayed
*
* 1847 *
Dear Logan Highmore.
I hope this letter finds you in good health. Congratulations on your marriage to Roman Highmore. I'm sure you two are rather happy together, But perhaps your happiness has overshadowed your prior thoughts, as you have abandoned something important to you, and all for a lover no less! Consider this letter an invitation to come back home, to return and see what became of the project you abandoned. I can't wait for our reunion.
"There's no signature . . ." Logan muttered to himself, reading the letter again, over and over. Oddly, though there was no concrete evidence as to who sent the letter, yet Logan had a sneaking yet sickening suspicion as to who the sender was. He waited until nightfall then quietly left the home he shared with his loving husband, Roman. He walked all the way to his old, now severely dilapidated workshop. Thankfully, it had most of its frame and managed to stay up, nut it was still a sad sight to Logan to see such a place destroyed. Carefully picking through a few of the pieces, he went inside.
His workshop, heartbreakingly, was a shell of its former self. Most of his notebooks as well as little projects, mementos and personal items were destroyed or gone. He was ashamed with himself. How could he have let = himself get so distracted and give up his dreams to be with someone? This wasn't like him, not at all.
He kept combing through and looking around. Logan's mind drifted to the thought of his creation. How had it sent him the letter? That is, if his suspicions of the sender were correct.
"Helloooooooo, Logan."
Logan whipped around, freezing when he caught sight of his creation, looking cruder and much more lifelike than how he'd left him. He was . . . alive?
"Ah, like the upgrade? The night you'd abandonment me, this building was struck by lightning, as was I. Where it was destroyed, I rose like a phoenix from the ashes . . ." He smirked. "I have a name now as well. De."
"Why have I been called here?" Logan demanded, keeping his voice from shaking.
"Simple. I have been trapped here, confined within these walls as I cannot walk outside looking as I do now. You left my soul to drip away . . . But the reckoning has come today."
"T-That's impossible . . . you can't be thinking like this! You have no mind, only machinery!"
"So you say . . . thanks to you, I have no guts 'cause you replaced it with mechanical strain . . ." De backed Logan into a wall, keeping that sickening smirk. "But now . . . I am alive! I shall be immortalized!" He jabbed a metal finger against Logan's chest. "You're the creator, you traitor!"
Logan looked up at him. "I will . . . I will fix you! I will make this right if you calm down and let me go . . ."
De chuckled darkly. "This isn't some simple sickness that has plagued me. There's no vaccine to cure my dirty needs . . . I want my revenge . . . You deserve to feel how I felt . . . We will build up our machine . . . You die tonight."
Logan went to scream, but it was cut off . . .
*
So prepare for adventure
We're a whole new creature
From the darkest side
You can't take away the pain we feel
Created as monsters
That come to life
Come back to life!
*
After . . .
Logan was never returned to his husband, Roman. Heartbroken, Roman left town, never to be heard from again.
Just as De promised, Logan was turned into the same part human, part machine hybrid that De had become. Both now scarred from pain and awful memories, they retreated into silence, occasionally visiting the town disguised in heavy cloaks to cover their scarred bodies.
They say that sometimes, you can still hear the anguished cries of Logan Sanders Highmore, the man who had intended to shake up the world, defy laws of human nature to form the ultimate creation, but instead caused his own downfall in the end . . .
*
So you've come end now
Alive but dead inside
The heart beats loud
You've join our crowd
We are but punished serpentines
Your life with him was fun
But now the terror's only just begun
Now come with me
And you will see
We're A NEW BORN CYANIDE!
*
This took me so long to write!! Honestly though, I'm very proud of how this has turned out. Just to note, De is Deceit.
The songs used are "Can't Be Erased" (only used as the title) as well as the song used as dialogue/inspiration, "Build Our Machine."
I really hoped you guys enjoyed this!!