Chapter Text
The air was close and humid, the smell of jungle flowers cloying in the minimal space of their domicile. The last of Mandarin’s brethren trickled in through the stained glass window, the light arcing through it sending festive patterns dancing across their short fur.
The warrior leapt at the pilot, tussling across the sterile steel floor and bouncing off the examine table. They rolled down the ramp to the main floor, crashing into the sparse furniture and plain walls.
Mandarin rubbed one hand across the back of his neck, mindful of his claws. Unease prickled in his hindbrain. A sense of wrongness, of darkness encroaching at the edges of his thoughts. He felt as if he’d seen this place before. Well, of course he had; it was his home since he was small, for pity’s sake! But it felt so… tiny. So cramped and stifling. As if the air was being sucked out of his lungs.
He looked back up at the window and frowned. It was dingy now, dirt and grime caked heavily on the beautiful glass. A hole was broken through the delicate crystal, the metal armature that held it in place bent inward as if something had fallen through from a great height. He blinked, and the illusion was gone.
A portent, perhaps?
But his prophecies were never visual. How odd. Perhaps his new teachers could explain further. He and the other mage would be leaving to meet the Masters soon, and he was eager to begin his greater training. Especially with Father’s continued ill health.
With that thought he traveled across the loft, igniting his rocket pack to lift off from the edge and land away from the cozier area of the main floor. Here were scattered numerous work and examine tables, weapons and gadgets clipped into slots in the walls. Three doors were set into the widest wall; one for Father’s bedroom, one for the lavatory, and one for the other lab. The one they had to be invited into.
He reached up and knocked a fist against the metal door, wrapping his tail around himself in apprehension. It had used to be that Father would simply send him off with a calm reply that all was well. Lately, however, Mandarin’s concern had been met with grumbled replies at best, shouting and thrown beakers at worst.
“What, Mandarin?”
Father didn’t bother to open the door, his voice carrying easily through the steel. And it wasn’t as if Father needed to see who was there; only Mandarin and his golden sibling bothered to check on the human anymore, and Father and the golden one had recently had quite the fight. The warrior had run off crying, if he recalled correctly.
“We are back from apprehending the transgressor. The Army is settling them in their prison.”
“Alright. And?”
“Antauri is making dinner. Would you like some?”
“No.”
“Okay…” Mandarin bit his lip, scuffing his foot against the steel floor “Father?”
“What? Don’t you know I am busy?”
“Yes. I just… what are you working on?”
There was a weighted silence. Then the door snapped open, stale air rolling out to meet the humid jungle air. Mandarin fought not to gag, the scent of lab cleaners and mixed chemicals doing nothing to blot out the sharp smell of simian fear.
His father stared down at him from the doorway, a pair of goggles pushed up on his pale forehead. He looked gaunter then he ever had before, his bottom jaw appearing strangely deformed. The citrine monkey lifted a hand, a concerned query on the tip of his tongue, when something near his father moved.
His father was wearing heavier lab gloves than usual, the kind used for mixing caustic chemicals. In one hand was a hypodermic filled with a thick, glowing liquid. The other was clenched around a furred creature, the tiny animal digging miniscule fangs into the thick black rubber. It’s chest was heaving with gasping breaths, eyes so wide the deep brown iris was almost lost in a sea of white.
His father’s heterochromatic eyes blinked laconically high above him, his soft smile not reaching those windows to the soul. “I am working on a project for a friend.”
“What kind of project?” Mandarin murmured, watching the creature dig the claws of its feet into his father’s glove. Fear and desperation scent rolled off it in waves.
“A scientist always seeks to improve their designs, Mandarin. Remember that.”
“Yes, father.”
“Have you ever wondered, Mandarin, what the uplifting process would entail without your cybernetics?”
Without the specially crafted metal spine? The segmented limbs replacing their originals, fashioned to cut out the long-term pain which would come with organic limbs forced to behave as a human’s would?
“I’d rather not think about it.”
“Fair enough.” This smile was sharp, almost cruel. He peered down at the small creature and it stopped moving, its heart beating even faster than before. “I must be getting back to my project now. This one gets feistier the longer he’s allowed out of the cage.”
“What is it?”
“A Lesser Shuggazoomian Marmoset. The runt of its litter; the other is much more siziable.” He fiddled with the hypodermic for a moment, as if thinking “Did you know, Mandarin, that the runts are best for prototypes?”
“No, father. I did not.”
“They are the most resilient, though you wouldn’t think it at first. They have to have been just to survive the womb. They’re the real indicators of your experiment’s viability; there is of course room for error, but if the runt lives the rest ought to. You did, after all.”
Father turned on his heel and the door snapped shut in Mandarin’s face.
Still, the fear scent lingered.
*
A sharp, pained groan shook Mandarin from his dreams. His nightmares? Fragments of memories tumbled through his mind, their bitterness souring an otherwise idle morning.
He pushed himself up to sit, drawing a hand down his face. “My heart, are you well?”
The obsidian monkey coughed softly, cheeks darkening with a blush. “It seems I was moving about in my sleep, and…”
“You mean you were flailing and your bandage is now caught on something?” Mandarin teased gently, leaning over to remove the blanket from the bandage’s sticky embrace.
“Yes, that.” Antauri let out a soft sigh, reaching down to smooth the crystalline structure back into place. It suctioned to his skin for a moment before the edges curled away, drawing an irritated growl from the philosopher. “My love, would you mind helping me with this?”
“Of course, my heart.”
Reaching into an inner storage space in their pod, he produced one of the malleable crystals. Straddling his lover’s hips, Mandarin gingerly worked his fingers beneath the damaged crystal bandage to loosen it, easing it away from Antauri’s stomach with exaggerated care. Though Gibson had removed the fur surrounding the puncture wound there was always the chance the sticky side had got caught in an errant strand or two. He knew from experience the sensation of the bandage waxing fur was most definitely uncomfortable.
The healing salve Gibson had recently created coupled with their genetically coded healing factor meant the shallow wound was already closed, though the scar was obviously new and would need to be monitored for at least a few weeks more. The citrine monkey went about applying a new bandage, taking more time than usual to smooth the crystalline sides flush with the skin. Task complete, he met his lover’s olive eyes and tapped the crystal meaningfully.
“No overly fast rides or anything requiring more than a cloth seat belt.”
“Yes, my little firecracker.” Antauri teased, reaching up to thread his fingers through his lover’s helm fur. Mandarin sputtered, his cheeks turning a very fetching scarlet. Heterochromatic lenses glitched, his tail sticking straight up.
“That is not playing fair, my heart.”
“Mmm. Who said we were playing?” Antauri hooked one leg around Mandarin’s waist, flipping him easily onto his back. The citrine monkey let out an adorable squeak, the sound muffled when Antauri pressed their lips together.
“W-we- the circus!”
“Is not even open for another three hours. The others won’t be stirring for an hour and a half, or at the very least will not be looking for us. And I can sense that Chiro is sleeping as soundly as any teenager his age, and is past the point in his sleep cycle where nightmares are a possibility. Ergo, we have plenty of time to discuss battle strategy.”
“Well, I suppose when you put it that way.” Mandarin’s shyness melted away, a dark growl coalescing in his chest. Antauri matched the sound, tail twining around Mandarin’s as their growls dipped into affectionate purring.
The rest of the world could wait.
