I am home yet again.
Jan. 2nd, 2007 10:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blue_soaringWe sprung a new leak! :D Isn't that fantastic! :D :D
I found this while digging around trying to update my site. As far as I can tell, I never posted it. Which is weird, because it's totally perving over mako-infusion, and that is the most perv worthy of perv-worthy things.
It is also, temporarily, untitled. New icon, new icon! Reno.
[edit] omjesus. rude just showed up to fix the leak. omgomg. rumbly voice of SEX OMG.
0572-03
FF7. Rufus/Reno, Hojo. R. ~1000 words.
Rufus's presence during the entire operation, from preliminary exams to the actual injections, is curious.
*
Rufus leans over the table, stroking shocking red hair back from the subject's face. There's a gentleness in his touch that Hojo might have said he's incapable of, or at least intelligent enough not to openly display.
The surgical team is gone, dismissed as soon as the subject's thrashing ceased. Hojo advised against it, but the President is more headstrong than his father. He knows the man on the table is a Turk, arguably one of the best for his apparent lack of anything resembling ethics, but didn't bother to record his name.
Watching Rufus now, he sends an assistant to retrieve it. She scurries from the observation bay, relief clear on her face.
"I wouldn't do that," Hojo says into the intercom. Rufus pauses with his hand on the IV. "Waking him now could endanger the project."
Rufus's face darkens, but he takes his hand away from the second valve. The cocktail of drugs in the first bag keeps the man under, the other will bring him back to awareness, but suitably weakened.
"I believe I asked you and your team to leave," Rufus says.
Hojo glances down at the clipboard his assistant hands over. He flips through the pages, pausing on the reports of materia stains in the subject's blood and muscle tissue. The x-rays show significant bone scarring -- the second, third and fifth ribs on the left, both arms, left wrist -- all with the slight hazy glow indicative of accelerated healing.
Rufus's voice crackles over the speakers. "Professor."
"Yes, yes. What is it?"
"Explain."
Hojo turns part of his attention back to the floor. Rufus stands with one hand resting on the subject's shoulder. An oddly protective stance for him, considering he insisted despite the Turk's questionable candidacy for the procedure.
"Disorientation," Hojo says, gaze flicking to the monitor readouts of the subject's vitals. "A high possibility of temporary blindness and temporary loss of hearing. Expect an accelerated heart rate, highly variable and unpredictable moods, brief memory loss. Eventually enhanced abilities coupled with a lack of control, the latter also temporary, provided his body adequately adapts."
"And the probability of these symptoms," Rufus says, "is increased by waking him early?"
"That's been my experience, yes." Handing the clipboard back, Hojo takes the opportunity to observe Rufus's attitude towards the subject. The young President appears to have retained his ruthless ambition, submitting the Turk to a procedure the man obviously hadn't wanted. His presence during the entire operation, from preliminary exams to the actual injections, is curious, as well as inconvenient.
When Rufus reaches for the valve again, Hojo does nothing to stop him. The drip is slow, the drugs taking several minutes to bring the subject around. Familiar tension mounts in the observation bay, heavier than during the waking of a SOLDIER. While valuable, the termination of a defective SOLDIER is a viable option. Hojo doubts Rufus would allow his scientists to kill the Turk.
The monitors beep warningly just as the subject's eyes fly open, wide and blank. Immediately, he begins thrashing again, wrenching at the restraints, his tortured, animal howl piercing though the grating squeal of the speakers.
"Reno!" Rufus snaps, his voice sharp, commanding, no trace of alarm. The man shudders violently, trying to shake off the slender hands pressing him back to the table.
"Leave them," Hojo says, halting his team before they can assemble.
Rufus's voice drifts into a low murmur, his tone still hard, cool. The subject's struggles ease only slightly, his face turned to Rufus's though the readouts confirm his blindness. While still heightened, the rhythm of his heartbeat changes.
Either out of a respect for the President's privacy or simple disgust, each member of his teams looks away from the floor when Rufus leans down to kiss the subject. Hojo continues his watch.
The subject's nostrils flare as if scenting the air, his hands curl into fists. Rufus traces the sharp tattoo on his cheek, urging him to turn his head with the slight pressure. The subject responds, not only accepting the kiss but welcoming it. A low moan, more akin to a whimper, echoes through the room. Rufus's hand pushes beneath the thin blanket draped over the subject's groin, and the man moans again, louder.
"Fascinating," Hojo murmurs. "Record every last scrap of data these miserable machines can collect," he says. "Begin detailed notes of your own, include all observations concerning the subject's responses. Pay attention to the level of control Rufus asserts over him."
"Professor," the woman clutching the clipboard begins. "There's obviously a bond between the subject and the President, the data--"
"Will be skewed to reflect that, yes, I know. That's exactly the point, you idiot."
The woman flushes and murmurs a hasty apology. Hojo ignores her, focusing on the monitor displaying a closer view of the subject's face. The man's lips are parted, eyelashes fluttering.
Rufus's voice slips into a whisper, broken by a sharp intake of breath as the subject's eyes open once again, the cat-green colour brightened with a hazy mako glow. The subject is still dazed, his vitals irregular, but as far as Hojo can tell, is quite comfortable with it.
Hojo licks his lips. "The subject's profile," he says, snatching it from whoever holds it out. Plucking a pen from behind his ear, he scratches notes in the margins of the subject's psychiatric evaluation.
He'd pay dearly for a chance to analyse Rufus, but even when ordered by his father, Rufus was never cooperative.
"Inform the President that I require the subject for further testing," Hojo says. "Immediately."
*
End
I found this while digging around trying to update my site. As far as I can tell, I never posted it. Which is weird, because it's totally perving over mako-infusion, and that is the most perv worthy of perv-worthy things.
It is also, temporarily, untitled. New icon, new icon! Reno.
[edit] omjesus. rude just showed up to fix the leak. omgomg. rumbly voice of SEX OMG.
0572-03
FF7. Rufus/Reno, Hojo. R. ~1000 words.
Rufus's presence during the entire operation, from preliminary exams to the actual injections, is curious.
Rufus leans over the table, stroking shocking red hair back from the subject's face. There's a gentleness in his touch that Hojo might have said he's incapable of, or at least intelligent enough not to openly display.
The surgical team is gone, dismissed as soon as the subject's thrashing ceased. Hojo advised against it, but the President is more headstrong than his father. He knows the man on the table is a Turk, arguably one of the best for his apparent lack of anything resembling ethics, but didn't bother to record his name.
Watching Rufus now, he sends an assistant to retrieve it. She scurries from the observation bay, relief clear on her face.
"I wouldn't do that," Hojo says into the intercom. Rufus pauses with his hand on the IV. "Waking him now could endanger the project."
Rufus's face darkens, but he takes his hand away from the second valve. The cocktail of drugs in the first bag keeps the man under, the other will bring him back to awareness, but suitably weakened.
"I believe I asked you and your team to leave," Rufus says.
Hojo glances down at the clipboard his assistant hands over. He flips through the pages, pausing on the reports of materia stains in the subject's blood and muscle tissue. The x-rays show significant bone scarring -- the second, third and fifth ribs on the left, both arms, left wrist -- all with the slight hazy glow indicative of accelerated healing.
Rufus's voice crackles over the speakers. "Professor."
"Yes, yes. What is it?"
"Explain."
Hojo turns part of his attention back to the floor. Rufus stands with one hand resting on the subject's shoulder. An oddly protective stance for him, considering he insisted despite the Turk's questionable candidacy for the procedure.
"Disorientation," Hojo says, gaze flicking to the monitor readouts of the subject's vitals. "A high possibility of temporary blindness and temporary loss of hearing. Expect an accelerated heart rate, highly variable and unpredictable moods, brief memory loss. Eventually enhanced abilities coupled with a lack of control, the latter also temporary, provided his body adequately adapts."
"And the probability of these symptoms," Rufus says, "is increased by waking him early?"
"That's been my experience, yes." Handing the clipboard back, Hojo takes the opportunity to observe Rufus's attitude towards the subject. The young President appears to have retained his ruthless ambition, submitting the Turk to a procedure the man obviously hadn't wanted. His presence during the entire operation, from preliminary exams to the actual injections, is curious, as well as inconvenient.
When Rufus reaches for the valve again, Hojo does nothing to stop him. The drip is slow, the drugs taking several minutes to bring the subject around. Familiar tension mounts in the observation bay, heavier than during the waking of a SOLDIER. While valuable, the termination of a defective SOLDIER is a viable option. Hojo doubts Rufus would allow his scientists to kill the Turk.
The monitors beep warningly just as the subject's eyes fly open, wide and blank. Immediately, he begins thrashing again, wrenching at the restraints, his tortured, animal howl piercing though the grating squeal of the speakers.
"Reno!" Rufus snaps, his voice sharp, commanding, no trace of alarm. The man shudders violently, trying to shake off the slender hands pressing him back to the table.
"Leave them," Hojo says, halting his team before they can assemble.
Rufus's voice drifts into a low murmur, his tone still hard, cool. The subject's struggles ease only slightly, his face turned to Rufus's though the readouts confirm his blindness. While still heightened, the rhythm of his heartbeat changes.
Either out of a respect for the President's privacy or simple disgust, each member of his teams looks away from the floor when Rufus leans down to kiss the subject. Hojo continues his watch.
The subject's nostrils flare as if scenting the air, his hands curl into fists. Rufus traces the sharp tattoo on his cheek, urging him to turn his head with the slight pressure. The subject responds, not only accepting the kiss but welcoming it. A low moan, more akin to a whimper, echoes through the room. Rufus's hand pushes beneath the thin blanket draped over the subject's groin, and the man moans again, louder.
"Fascinating," Hojo murmurs. "Record every last scrap of data these miserable machines can collect," he says. "Begin detailed notes of your own, include all observations concerning the subject's responses. Pay attention to the level of control Rufus asserts over him."
"Professor," the woman clutching the clipboard begins. "There's obviously a bond between the subject and the President, the data--"
"Will be skewed to reflect that, yes, I know. That's exactly the point, you idiot."
The woman flushes and murmurs a hasty apology. Hojo ignores her, focusing on the monitor displaying a closer view of the subject's face. The man's lips are parted, eyelashes fluttering.
Rufus's voice slips into a whisper, broken by a sharp intake of breath as the subject's eyes open once again, the cat-green colour brightened with a hazy mako glow. The subject is still dazed, his vitals irregular, but as far as Hojo can tell, is quite comfortable with it.
Hojo licks his lips. "The subject's profile," he says, snatching it from whoever holds it out. Plucking a pen from behind his ear, he scratches notes in the margins of the subject's psychiatric evaluation.
He'd pay dearly for a chance to analyse Rufus, but even when ordered by his father, Rufus was never cooperative.
"Inform the President that I require the subject for further testing," Hojo says. "Immediately."
End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 06:52 pm (UTC)That reminds me... I need to
begask Ponderosa121 for permission to make an icon out of the Rufus/Reno fire and rain pic.....no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:01 pm (UTC)...that said, mako is just so shiny. So, so shiny. I want to play with it. Altered state sex for the win. :d
Icon-out-of-pic should be fine. I think. I mean, it wasn't a commission, it's actually a bit of fanart for a piece later on in the Guns arc we're doing. Best to ask, but I doubt beggins will be necessary. :3
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:11 pm (UTC)Like you said, mako and altered state sex and all... just sooo yummy that it cries out for more.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 06:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:05 pm (UTC)And I KNOW. The twisted, fucked-up-ness affection and loyalty between Rufus and Reno is what keeps me addicted. This is perhaps why I wrote nearly 100,000 words of them this year. ^^; *lick*
Perhaps I will have to play with mako-Turks more. Yis.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:40 pm (UTC)Okay - moment of 'duh windsor', please to indulge...what is mako?
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:54 pm (UTC)Hokay. So. Remember the green wavy stuff at the beginning of Advent Children? That's the Lifestream (energy of the planet/souls of all living things), and another word for it is mako (basically, processed Lifestream). ShinRa Company (the government-type body that basically owns ...uh, everything) uses reactors to process Lifestream/mako and turn it into electricity.
They also infuse eligible people with it to create their elite army called SOLDIER. SOLDIER's eyes glow green from the process, and they have heightened abilities (nothing specifically stated, but the usual, strength, vitality, senses, that sort of thing).
Questions? :3
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 08:54 pm (UTC)Others are scouted by the Turks, kidnapped and infused.
The main character of FF7, Cloud, goes slightly bonkers after being exposed to mako. And then more bonkers after getting shoved head-first into raw Lifestream.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 09:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:00 pm (UTC)I am also envious that you have (had?) Rude in your apartment. OMG! XDDDD
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:08 pm (UTC)Ruuuude. He was. I mean. He was all bulky-with-muscle and had this little scar on his lip that you KNOW came from a fight, and Voice. Like. Rough. SEX.
Excuse me. Flaming panties of doom.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:34 pm (UTC)But you can make up for it with Gale/Serph woobins. Oh yes.no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:00 pm (UTC)Rufus's protection, and Hojo's not caring... andandandand... It's perfect. And pervy, and fabulous. And oh more testing.
And yay for Rude fixing leaks!
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:12 pm (UTC)Rude is coming back in a bit to do more work. I am more excited by this than I should be.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:41 pm (UTC)...and there I go rambling. But you do subtext so wonderfully well. It's like there's another fic in there somewhere. And we get to find it.
I think you should take pictures. Or something.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 08:10 pm (UTC)I am seriously considering this. Roomie suggests the snap and run. Pond suggests asking. But... it's Rude! He makes me fangirly weak.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 08:15 pm (UTC)If you rent, you can pretend the pictures are for the landlord, so you don't get in trouble.. but otherwise, asking is good. He'll either be cool with it, or be an ass..
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:05 pm (UTC)XD and i feel sooo bad for Reno, ;_; but XD it's always nice to see him on the edge. XD
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:41 pm (UTC)One day, I will stick Reno in a corset, just because it makes him freak out like so: O_o, and say things like, "No fucking way," which, if you think about it, is practically an invitation. >:3
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:44 pm (UTC)and you realize you make me want to steal you and pond and put the reno wig on and just do what ever crazy thing we think of like wearing a corset ^_~
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:47 pm (UTC)And yay, thankie! <3 There should be more playing with mako and materia. I mean, Slow was fun, but there are such great, kinky ideas for stuff like Morph, and Mime, and even Cure and Gravity, omg, Gravity. Later on in the Guns thing we're doing, we have this tasty, tasty thing with Gravity that just kills me.
...we should write that. Soon.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 08:01 pm (UTC)You're welcome. I lurk most of the time, but love your writing. And...there should so be more materia and mako kink in the world (and boys in corsets, but I have a very clear bias on that). *has done very nasty things wtih Fire materia and non-con in rp* Ooh...Gravity? *.*
*makes note to lurk around here more if you're writing something with that involved*
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 08:30 pm (UTC)You make them crawl all over each other, that's what you do.
Thankie much! :D
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 09:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 10:52 pm (UTC)