Peter Quill (
zunesareawesome) wrote in
makingthisupasigo2018-04-14 11:02 pm
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And the stars look very different today...
It was a way out. But it wasn't home.
Truthfully, after Norfinbury, anything would be better than that place, but the cold truth was--there was no way to find his own universe out of the endless multiverse, even if Norfinbury's busted technology had worked properly. He was stuck, here, with a megalomaniac Flynn--granted, a Flynn that managed to open up a portal out of there. Maybe that's what it took to get out of Norfinbury.
Or, Peter thought sometimes on bad days, Norfinbury only released you once you became the twisted version of yourself it wanted you to be. A specially-designed virus inflicted on countless worlds.
Besides, he ought to know something about that.
He didn't stay long on earth, he couldn't. Maybe it had something to do with the mystery of how they were revived in Norfinbury, their bodies recreated or cloned or healed, or maybe it was something that was gonna happen to him anyway, but he could feel the Light burning inside him, inside his head almost as soon as he landed. A desperate need to take to the stars. He'd managed to create a ship and took off.
Time passes, and scientists notice something odd about several exoplanets they're monitoring, especially ones marked as 'earth-like' or other planets in zones that could make them potentially habitable. Bright bursts of light and changes in the composition of the atmosphere or surface, it was inexplicable. Possible evidence of intelligent life? If they didn't know any better, especially with the rocky planets that now somehow boasted extreme changes, it was like something was terraforming them.
There was cause for alarm when Mars suddenly turned blue and green a few months later.
Meanwhile, a small blue-and-orange ship that looked suspiciously like a slightly more organic-looking Milano was racing towards the earth.
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"That...that's not..."
He pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels sick, if he puts that thing on there's a good chance he might never see it taken off again.
But there's no way he would ever kill Jones or make him put the pendant on, either.
Maybe he should just go. Find another way to get to Jones. There had to be another way, right?
His mind races, coming up with complex possibilities in an instant...but who could go up against a guy that was taking over the galaxy? That was that insanely powerful? There was only one person in the world that could possibly take him on, and get Jones back safe and intact. His own tattoos would probably stop him from making any kind of alliances with any fairies or entities, they'd want to use his proximity to Flynn to their advantage.
"That's not going to happen and you know it."
And they were probably running out of time.
Don't do it.
He had to do it.
He winces and with a shaking hand, he grabs the pendant from the box and hastily puts it on.
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The reward is instant and even better than Flynn expected. He can feel the pendant's magic align with his own and then it's all there, on a silver platter, thoughts and feelings and memories. All there, all his, all he needs to do is reach out to take, change, shift around, manipulate.
He doesn't, for now, but he laughs, patting Jacob's cheek and projecting his voice straight into his mind.
Oh, we're gonna have so much fun.
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If Flynn's watching, then he'll be privy to several temporarily satisfying, intricately detailed scenarios of Jacob beating the hell out of him--his tattoos flicker up again and he has to dial it back a little.
"You got what you wanted," he doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of talking back at him in his own head.
So much hate.
"Now help me save Jones!"
So much fear.
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But first things first. The image of Stone beating him up is amusing in its impotent rage but at the same time it's also very unacceptable. Besides, he should really test if that pendant actually works, right?
"See, that wasn't so hard, was it? Aren't you happy that you put the pendant on? Isn't it great to serve me?"
Because that sure is what he will put into Jacob's heart right now. He'll hold up his end of the bargain but that doesn't mean they can't have a little fun first.
"And who cares about Jones anyway, he's just so annoying, right?"
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--something strange comes over him when Flynn speaks next, for a split second it's so sudden that it can't possibly be coming from his own will, but then it doesn't matter because he's so happy that he's got this pendant.
"Uh, yeah? Of course I'm happy! This is great!" He taps the thing around his neck. "And...I never really saw it before but yeah. Yeah it is." He's suddenly all smiles and sunshine. Why was he even so upset a second ago? He can't comprehend what was making him so mad, serving Flynn is the best.
"Who cares about Jones? Not me," so much agreement here. Something in him is attempting to rail desperately against the thoughts and feelings, but it dies before it can become conscious and fizzles out. "You have no idea how annoying he is. It's always, 'I'm Ezekiel Jones and I'm the best and I can pick any lock on earth,' and you'd think he'd get some new material someday?"
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This is great. It's even greater because Flynn knows what comes after when he releases his mind.
But not quite yet.
"Maybe we should just totally leave him. Don't you think?"
Yeah, you bet you think.
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"...leave Jones?"
Wait, didn't he himself do something...bad...to get this pendant? 'Course, that didn't matter 'cause he was so happy to have it on, but he did ask Flynn to help, which meant that saving Jones was important--the logic struggles and fails, even as some part of him is desperately trying to throw something, anything--this all happens in less than a second as Flynn's override settles in.
"...maybe we should. Yeah."
Who needs to save Jones anyway? He was always getting into some kind of trouble. Serves him right, even.
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He doesn't think Peter could remove the tattoos from Jones but it's nothing he wants to risk. As much as he dislikes Jones, he's not stupid – he knows exactly just how skilled the thief is, however annoying he may be about it.
"And second, I am a man of my word, so."
He smiles darkly before he abruptly withdraws his influence from Stone's thoughts and emotions.
"Shall we get going?"
cw vomiting (almost)
--and when Flynn's influence disappears, Jacob freezes, reality hitting hard.
Of course I'm happy!
Who cares about Jones? Not me.
...leave Jones? ...maybe we should. Yeah.
He said those words. He believed those words. In his heart of hearts, he went along with what Flynn wanted, he was helpless to his influence--
Jacob staggers back, too revolted to do anything but reel. He's really going to be sick--he's leaning over, hands propped up on his knees, shaking.
Flynn had controlled him. Everything he is, everything he was, everything he could be, his very self, his soul was under his control. Was he even truly thinking on his own even now? How could he ever be sure? How could he know?
The sheer horror is almost incomprehensible.
"You..." he points at Flynn, standing back up, still pale and shaky, but seething with rage. He holds the pendant with one hand, everything in him is screaming at him to rip it off, to throw it away and grind it into the ground with his heel. "You did this..."
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"That's right." His voice is mild, almost gentle but his eyes are hard and uncaring. He steps closer, his voice low and menacing close to Stone's ear before he withdraws. "And don't you forget it."
He smirks. "Or maybe you will?"
Flynn can see the cracks in the foundation already. They would increase over time, he knows, deep fissures of doubts, which thoughts are his own? Which feelings are genuine?
Oh yes, they're going to have so much fun indeed.
"Now we should go and get Jones." He winks cheerfully. "Before you change your mind."
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The doubts are there and it's horrible. What if Flynn's already erased something that's happened? How would he ever know? Jacob wants so bad to shove the pendant in his eye, but he can't, he has to save Ezekiel.
"I'm not changing my mind. You think you can change my mind, but it won't ever change what's in here." Jacob points to his own heart defiantly, even if what he just went through stated otherwise.
As soon as they got Jones back he was going to smash this pendant with a hammer. Even though he was terrified that Flynn would do something to make him never take it off. And maybe he wouldn't even know that he did.
Wait--every single thought he had was on broadcast. He had to figure out a way to hide what he was really thinking, maybe if he could compartmentalize his thoughts...he'd have to work on it on the way there. There had to be a way around this thing.
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Flynn smiles, not revealing how much he can listen into. It's much more fun like that. And he already has so many ideas how to go on from here.
"Oh, and let's keep this thing between ourselves, hmm? No reason to let Jones in on our little secret."
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He shoves the pendant under his shirt.
"Secret's safe with me."
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Flynn pats his back amiably before leading the way. Just like old times, like they're best buddies. Like they're about to grab some cold ones from the fountain of youth.
Like they're family.
"Let's go get our thief back."
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"Yeah."
It's gruff and pained, and he tries not to think about how the doubts have creeped in so thoroughly, so quickly, wondering if even that very thought was his own.
Wondering if any thought was his own.