Pre-Dead Meat (working title)

This is a project I started the first summer of the pandemic, prompted by a dream I had about Hannibal (a/n: I have never watched Hannibal). I focused on this concept for a year or so, and I'm very happy with the writing and concepts I produced for this world and its characters. However, I put this project on hiatus. I feel my writing still needs practice, and practice needs feedback, and feedback needs short, easily-digestible pieces that can be easily shared and critiqued. A 50-page wip about a he/him lesbian cannibal is unfortunately not that.

I do fully intend to return to this project, though, and in the event that someone IS willing to take a chance on a longer, unfinished piece, I wanted to document it. Both as a decent sample of my writing, and as a sort of personal accountability. I made a promise to Bishop and Laggy. And I should probably get around to watching Hannibal.

Initial Concept Art

I'm not great with visual art, these early sketches were more to get the 'vibes' down.

My friend Endozoic drew them too!

First Chapter(?)

Bishop eats people. That's not what the story is about, but I thought it would be better to tell you up front. You don't have to be weird about it. It's not even an everyday thing, so it would be unfair to judge him based solely on that one characteristic.

While he was at work, Bishop was painstakingly careful not to let that personal detail slip. No workplace incidents, no containers of human remains in the office fridge labeled 'Bishop'. And when he noticed a new face in the office canteen, he only briefly thought about what they might taste like.

Laggy was short, chubby, and dressed in a creased button-up with bits of torn plastic packaging still clinging to their collar. A handful of freckles smacked the bridge of their nose and scattered as far out as their ears, on display thanks to the green hair band holding their hair back in a small bun. The other tables were full of Bishop's coworkers, all gabbing and grubbing, but Laggy did neither. They sat alone at a corner table, trying to stay inconspicuous in maybe the most conspicuous way possible. 

The line ahead for the coffee machine gave Bishop something to look at that wasn't a potential meal. He'd be lying if he claimed he'd never eaten a coworker before, but those hadn't been planned. He didn't like mixing his professional life with his personal one. He filled one Styrofoam cup with stale coffee, like he did every morning, followed by a second. He'd barely registered that he'd grabbed an extra cup before it was already full and capped.

Laggy could learn a thing or two from Bishop regarding stealth. Anywhere else, his muscular build and prosthetic forearms would've made him stand out, but here at Even, that was par for the course. Half the people in the canteen now were similarly buff and artificially enhanced. Compared to his coworkers, Bishop was on the scrawnier side. His only truly notable features were his jacked upper arms, a consequence of lugging their metal counterparts around all day long. 

On second glance in Laggy's direction, it struck Bishop as odd that their table was empty. Not just of other people, but of food. They were focused on the other tables, the waves of discussion that crested above the sea of office ambiance. If this was a social anxiety thing, they were hiding it incredibly well. Their hands sat still on the table, and their steady gaze didn't shift until Bishop placed a cup of coffee directly in front of them.

"Hey, newbie," Bishop grunted. He sat opposite Laggy, unfolding his legs to fill some of the empty space. He pushed the cup closer to Laggy. "'S not good coffee, but it's free."

Laggy perked up like a meerkat, and remained perked as Bishop settled in. Their hands curled slowly around the offering, but they kept their eyes on Bishop, holding steady and focused.

After Laggy took a sip of coffee, it was as if a spell had been broken. Laggy started talking before they'd even properly swallowed their first sip. They sputtered, trying to express a dozen thoughts at once:

"You're the first- 

"No one else- 

"The people here seem nice, but- 

"The coffee here-

Bishop, half-listening, smiled vaguely and wondered whether he could fit Laggy's entire head in his mouth.

Bishop was content to wait for Laggy's sentence fragments to arrange themselves into complete thoughts. If Laggy caught the faint glaze over Bishop's eyes, they didn't mention it. Their coffee sat forgotten on the table, their hands otherwise occupied punctuating in the air.

Bishop's mechanical hands remained calm in his lap, wrapped around his own cooling cup of coffee. Laggy was fascinating. They were hardly looking at Bishop at all, totally consumed in whatever it was they were saying. Bishop didn't know, he wasn't absorbing any of this. He got everything he needed from their body language.

Laggy was vibrant. They may have been small, but they managed to fill the entire canteen with energy. Bishop was just a support beam holding the whole thing up, giving them an audience. Was this really the same person who had been sitting silently, alone in a communal space, just a minute earlier?

Yes. When Laggy finally looked back at Bishop, that inhibition made a flash reappearance, an inward flinch. Bishop could've missed it if he hadn't been watching Laggy's nonverbal communication. In that instant of self-consciousness, Laggy was small again. A delectable little target. Bishop could easily shut them up, if he wanted to.

"Sorry, I-I don't even know your name," Laggy's talking speed died down, as did their wild enthusiasm. "And I didn't introduce myself, either. And you were just dropping off some coffee for-"

"Bishop." Bishop pointed a cybernetik thumb at his chest. Laggy waited for some kind of elaboration or a chastising remark, but when a few seconds passed in silence, they realized a name was all they were going to get out of Bishop for now.

"Nice to meet you Bishop, I'm, uh, Laggy?" Honestly, they could've planned this better. They'd known that they'd have to decide on a name eventually. Not that Laggy was against using the same name here that they'd used at their last job, but they'd since grown into the nickname. No one here at Even had to know it was a nickname, either. Except maybe Bishop, who surely wasn't dense enough to miss how Laggy'd flubbed up their own name.

"Laggy. Cool." Bishop wasn't actively trying to speak in single-word sentences, it was just what came naturally. One or two words was the most anyone usually wanted from him. 

Folks at Even were either jocks or nerds, and between his cybernetik arms and penchant for tank tops, there wasn't any question of which category Bishop fell into. Bishop didn't bother asking Laggy what they were bringing to the table, job-wise. Short, socially awkward, too many feelings? Had to be a tekkie. Or 'Observation', as the shitheads up top would call it.

"Are you with Enforcement?" Laggy asked to be polite. You couldn't write 'meathead' on government paperwork, so they had to put up with these three-syllable nothing words. "I was told someone would show me around the place on my first day, I'm guessing that's you?"

"Yup, that's me. The welcome wagon." Bishop said through his teeth. Good thing no one else was around to neg him about it. Everyone at Even knew his reputation. The only reason he was always paired up with the newbies is because no one else wanted him.

"Oh nice!" Laggy was still fuckin', smiling. Totally misreading Bishop's reaction. They bounced out of their seat and picked up their briefcase. "We can start right away then! What's first?"

"Mmmm guess you don't have an office yet," Bishop thought out loud. That explained why Laggy'd been sitting at the canteen, staring at their future coworkers. "Better ask Kabal where you're gonna set up shop."

"Kabal?"

"Bossman," Bishop clarified.

Laggy didn't recognize the name. Kabal definitely wasn't the person who'd hired them. Technically this business fell under the umbrella of law enforcement, but there were some bureaucratic hops and twists down the line, so Kabal wouldn't have been part of the hiring process. Laggy wasn't exactly sure how close Even was to the bottom of the government food chain, but needless to say, it wasn't the type of job that anyone envied. More of a 'take-what-you-can-get' situation.

Laggy stayed two steps behind Bishop as they made their way to Kabal's office. All the doors they passed were closed, no signs of activity. Everyone must've still been at the canteen, or doing field work, maybe? Come to think of it, Laggy pondered, what do we need offices for, anyway?

Bishop rapped on Kabal's door twice before opening it. Like the other offices, there was no kind of nameplate or marker, but this was the only one Laggy saw with the lights on. Through the gap between Bishop and the door, Laggy could see a desk with a long-haired man sat behind it, squinting down at a microtab.

"Eh?" Kabal gave the device's screen a few extra taps before looking up. A quick glance at Bishop, then full attention on Laggy. "You're the new tek, right? Come in, then."

Laggy took the seat in front of Kabal's desk. "Laggy," they introduced themself crisply and offered a handshake.

He accepted. "Kabal. Things aren't too formal around here, as you're probably figured out." He nodded toward Bishop, who'd grabbed an extra chair from the corner of the room and thrown it down beside Laggy.

Kabal grabbed another tab from the charging tower on his desk. This one was labeled with a green sticky note, conveniently labeled 'New Guy'. He tapped in and skimmed its contents, eyes widening every so slightly. "Nice resume you got. Looks...huh. Well, welcome to EVN, anyway. You read the docs we faxed you? Contract and everything?"

"Yes, sir," Laggy gulped. Bishop rolled his eyes. Absolute nerd, calling people 'sir', reading shit...

"That's what I like to hear! So we can skip the bullcrap, throw you right in the mix. We'll start you out with the basics: a workspace, a computer, coupla low-grade cases to cut your teeth on. And access to the on-premise labs."

"Um!" Laggy interjected. "I'm..am I working alone? On the cases?"

Kabal nodded. "Yeah, but only on computer junk, so don't sweat it. We'll be your backup if you need some heavy lifting done. Don't worry about fighting nobody. Just track the troublemakers down for us."

Laggy nodded. They even had the nerve to look excited. Bishop huffed.

Kabal's attention drifted toward Bishop. "Bishop here can be your personal meathead for now. 'Till you're ready for a proper partner. Like training wheels."

Laggy's eyes dimmed. If it was a joke, they didn't understand it. Bishop made a sound they initially took for a laugh, but then realized was closer to a growl.

"He's a troublemaker, that one." Kabal kept his gaze steady on Laggy, pointedly ignoring Bishop's sullen pouting. Laggy squirmed under the direct eye contact. Bishop's continued silence felt like a firebrand pressing into their left arm. "Got a...reputation. Just give him some errands to keep him busy. You can take office 8. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," Laggy murmured. Bishop grunted in confirmation. He hadn't said any actual words this entire time, just sulked like a kid in time-out.

"Peachy," Kabal deadpanned. He stood up from his desk and signaled for Laggy and Bishop to do the same. As soon as he got the go-ahead, Bishop made straight for the door. Laggy followed in starts. Was...was that really all their new boss was going to leave them with? 'Peachy'?

When Laggy did finally push themselves out of Kabal's office, Bishop was halfway down the hallway, headed for the other offices.

Laggy bounded up to walk just behind Bishop. "Kabal's an..um..a character, huh?"

"Mm," Bishop answered. He moved aside to make room for Laggy. Side-by-side, Laggy could get a look at Bishop's face now. They'd expected to find red cheeks and bared teeth, the way Bishop had been fuming back in Kabal's office, but Bishop's expression was blank.

"What's his problem?" Laggy faked a laugh. Internally, they were panicking. Day one and they were already antagonizing the boss. They fought the urge to look back and make extra extra sure Kabal's door was shut.

Taking Bishop's side did manage to get some real words out of him. He sneered at the floor and grumbled, "I thought he'd never shut up."

"Yeah but, you weren't even talking? Why?"

"Same shit every time. 'Don't mess up, don't mess up'. Maybe if you tell me a hundredth time it'll stick," Bishop growled, more to himself than to Laggy. Or maybe to an imaginary Kabal who was moments away from getting socked in the imaginary jaw.

"So what did you mess up?" Laggy pried. "...if you don't mind me asking", they added, even though it was too late to be polite.

"Besides, like, the entire job?" Bishop spat. "I can't hack for shit. I'm definitely not the strongest guy we got on staff. And I...I dunno, don't get along with people."

Laggy gave Bishop a goofy grin. "You get along with me," they shrugged, bumping into Bishop's shoulder as they continued walking. "And that other stuff...it's not stuff you did. Listening to Kabal, I thought you'd accidentally killed a guy."

"Haha nope," Bishop confirmed. And it wasn't a lie. He only killed people on purpose.

"I can take care of the hacking. You...keep looking tough. Or something."

"That, I can do." 'Tough' was a generous assessment of Bishop's visage. 'Offputting' felt more accurate. But Laggy didn't look offputted. That would have to change, Bishop thought.

"So, you're stuck with the office bad boy." Bishop dropped a step behind Laggy. Their hair band was slipping down, and the locks that fell free were longer than Bishop had expected. Too bad his metal fingers weren't able to gauge their softness as he plucked Laggy's hair band loose.

"Don't- what are you-?"

"Your hair thingie was falling out," Bishop snapped Laggy's hairband between two mechanical fingers.

Laggy reached for it, but Bishop had already pulled it onto his wrist. "Mine now."

"Okay..." Laggy waited, but Bishop was apparently serious, walking on ahead with a spring in his step. "Like, I guess I have extra hair bands," they muttered. They felt more confused than angry. Bishop's hair was buzzed super short, what did he want with a hair band?

Bishop was already out of earshot. He plucked the hair band with his opposite hand, snapping it against his wrist. With every metallic snap he thought, mine. A nice little trophy, to tide him over until he got what he really wanted from Laggy.

In the meantime, though...Laggy seemed nice, not condescending like some of Bishop's coworkers. Nothing like Kabal. Laggy had talked to him, which was more than his boss could be assed to do. If Bishop didn't know better, he might trick himself into thinking Laggy wanted to talk to him. Bishop didn't need camraderie, but he also wasn't one to turn down free samples. He might even like being Laggy's friend.

But no matter what, he'd still eat them eventually. Obviously. Friends and food don't have to be mutually exclusive, no matter what some CGI shark says.

"This 'new' office? Doesn't look very new."

"There's no janitorial staff for the building, so we clean our own offices. Or, we don't. Mostly don't."

"Damn. And I was looking forward to starting a new pile of takeout containers. Someone beat me to it." Laggy scanned the layer of discarded trash spread over the room. Amazing that the previous users had been able to leave the room at all, with the mass of paper cups and Styrofoam containers blocking the door. Laggy leaned into the door with all their weight, but could only push it a few inches forward.

"I got it." Bishop braced his cybernetik forearm against the door and pried it open, countless plastic utensils snapping in protest. Displaced garbage spilled over the threshold. Laggy absentmindedly kicked some trash away. Whoever's job it was to clean the hallway could deal with that, Laggy already had enough on their plate.

Laggy placed the tabs Kabal had given them on a relatively tidy surface near the door. The top of a file cabinet, maybe? There had to be a microtab charging tower buried under all this filth, but they'd have to find it first. Considering the age and magnitude of the mess, Laggy wasn't eager to start that treasure hunt.

Laggy waded across the room like it was submerged in thick mud. Bishop kicked a path through the trash as he followed behind. No corner of the room had been spared by the garbage monstrosity, but Laggy could imagine the rough landscape of the room: a desk along the far wall, another near the door, and something like a coffee table between them. If there were, in fact, functioning computers somewhere in this room, those would be the best places to start looking.

Bishop was occupied kicking more garbage into the hallway. He wasn't looking for computers or anything. It's just fun to kick garbage around.

"I could grab some garbage bags?" Bishop offered. He'd like some gloves as well, but he might be overestimating the caliber of cleaning supplies the office had available. There was a janitorial closet somewhere around here, but who knew how well it was stocked.

"Huh?" Laggy was swiping at the trash piles, not so much cleaning as reorganizing the mess. Their knuckles cracked unexpectedly against a solid surface, and they winced. "Ah, shit! I found something!" they exclaimed, smiling even as they shook the pain from their bruised hand.

Bishop watched Laggy burrow further into the trash heap. It didn't take long for them to make the same mistake again, smacking an elbow against a buried desk. This time, when they went to inspect their elbow, they lost their balance and fell face-first into the trash.

"I'm going to get some garbage bags," Bishop decided himself. Laggy didn't appear to be any kind of authority on cleanliness. 

A few minutes later, Bishop came back with supplies, and Laggy's corner of the office didn't look any cleaner. They'd unearthed the top of a desk, and were just kind of kicking away all the trash surrounding it, clearing the space around their feet. It wasn't the kind of activity meant for their black, laceless dress shoes. Those shoes were too nice for this job, even if they were a tekkie. In fact, their whole outfit reeked of effort. Bishop couldn't tell if Laggy was trying to make a good first impression, or if this was the way they always dressed.

"Good enough," Laggy sighed once the trash in their corner was reorganized to their liking. Bishop was still filling his first trash bag, to which Laggy had contributed zero pieces of trash.

"Still no computer, but we can go through the tabs, at least." Laggy scooped up the microtab at the top of the pile and scrolled through its contents. Mainly text files, no gory crime scene snapshots or juicy audio clips. Same with the other two tabs. All three of the cases were low-level cyber crime. They already had the suspects' login details, it was only a matter of finding the person in meatspace. Nothing a little cyber-sleuthing couldn't accomplish. Laggy narrated their thought process out loud while Bishop cleaned.

"I can't help with fucking any of that," Bishop said, once Laggy'd finished breaking down the case they'd found the most interesting. Most of Laggy's explanation went over his head, but he could sus out his role in the job. Laggy would use computers or whatever to find out where the person was, and Bishop would go get them with his big muscles and cybernetik arms. Something like that.

"Not with that first part, no, but that's boring." Laggy didn't look bored, though; they were enraptured by whatever they were reading on the tab. "Kabal mentioned a lab, right? Are there computers there we can use? Maybe one with access to the law enforcement database?"

Bishop shrugged. "I dunno. 'M just the meathead."

"Come ooooon, how many newbies have you trained? You gotta know all the ins and outs."

"Trained?" That got a sincere laugh out of Bishop, even if it was at his own expense. "No, I'm- I never get paired up, permanently. So you're stuck with me till someone better frees up."

Laggy started to laugh, but Bishop's blank expression told them he was completely serious. 

"'Stuck'? That's mean, though." Laggy pressed the heel of their hand against their cheek. "Why- that can't be right. You're pulling my leg, right?"

Laggy looked offended, which, like, fair. But they were smart and sociable, they'd get snapped up by a better partner in no time. Bishop shrugged. "You heard Kabal. Training wheels." 

"So you are training me?" Laggy pounced on the phrase. "Because being a mentor makes a ton more sense than just being the office pariah."

"It's fine I don't..like..people," Bishop said lamely. Not that it wasn't true, it just implied that he had any choice in the matter, which he certainly did not. But it's nice to pretend sometimes.

"No! No." Laggy shook their head decisively. "You like me."

Bishop snorted. Laggy smiled, but he knew they were completely serious. Realizing that, he snorted a second time. "Maybe. But that's it."

Laggy pumped their fists victoriously. "Yesss!" They did a little dance around the room, while Bishop waited patiently for them to start making sense again.

"So, maybe it's not for the best reasons," Laggy said, slightly out of breath, "but we're partnered up for now, so...let's enjoy it?"

"Yeah okay," Bishop answered absently. Again, he didn't have much of a choice. It still bothered him knowing that Laggy would move on as soon as they settled in. At least Laggy's next partnership would be a short one--Bishop was patient, but not that patient.

Bishop continued to fill his trash bag, fighting down a wave of nervousness. Not about having to hunt tonight, not about getting caught. He hadn't had to worry about those sorts of thing in years. It wasn't even worry so much as uncertainty that was making his heart race. How long would he get to be Laggy's partner? Who would be Bishop's replacement?

Not that any of it mattered. Even if he did like Laggy.

Mostly, Bishop was worrying about whether Laggy liked him.

Bishop spent the time it took to walk to the gym trying to convince himself it'd been his decision. Even on days when he wasn't scheduled for physical training, he spent most of his time there anyway. Half for gossip, half because he blended right in with its clientele of tech-enhanced musclebros. Except his reason today was that Laggy had all but kicked him out of the office while they kept looking for a computer, and Bishop had nowhere else to go.

The lower level of the building was reserved for enforcement, comprising of a huge gym and a few specialized medical stations. There were lots of fun weight machines to lurk behind. Bishop knew the best places for avoiding detection. Not that he was hiding from any-

"Yo, B!"

Bishop startled, but played it off like a stretch, showing off the forearms that were the sole reason he was allowed in here. He didn't need to flaunt, though. Everyone here knew him, and his cybernetiks were easily some of the more obvious ones. The jock making a beeline for him, for instance, looked completely dirt on the outside, but Bishop knew that not a square inch of her could get past airport security.

Casey pulled Bishop into a side-hug with her robotically enhanced muscles. She had about a foot on him, but not a particularly intimidating frame. Modern cybernetiks were discrete and lightweight, and Casey kept her chrome on the cutting edge. Swapping her equipment out for new, better shit, constantly retraining her body to accept its new co-partners. Apart from her maintenance scars, she was flawless.

"What are you doing back so soon?" Casey smirked, rattling Bishop around a bit as he tried to swat her away. "Heard we got some fresh meat today, shouldn't you be breaking 'em in?" She gave Bishop's shoulder a playful punch. Fuck, even her 'play' punches hurt.

Bishop punched back, but the sound of his metal fist against Casey's flesh arm wasn't as satisfying as the real thing. "'M not a babysitter," he answered indignantly. "Not gonna jerk around in some office. Gotta get my beach body right."

Casey sighed impatiently. "What're you really doing here, Bite-Size?"

Bishop snarled. It was safe to show some fang here, all of the Enforcers were a little bit feral. Bishop was also the baby of the group, so it came off as cute instead of threatening. Years of experience gave some people an edge of seniority. In Bishop's case, it made him a mascot. Yeah, humiliating, but it ensured that no one really paid attention to him. That had come in handy plenty of times.

Casey laughed and slapped Bishop on the back. "A little grumpy today, are we?" She walked Bishop over to sit on an unclaimed bench between the water fountain and the power weights. "Is the new tekkie that bad?"

"No!" Bishop said indignantly. New people didn't bother him. Familiar people were trickier.

"I saw you in Adjustments the other day. I know you're not cleared to start training again till next week, at least."

Casey was right. Bishop was still recovering, in no shape for a standard workout. After his last session with the biotek, his remaining arm muscles felt as though they'd been torn to ribbons. A few 'tweaks' to his forearms and his whole nervous system writhed in sympathetic agony.

"Got nowhere else to be," Bishop justified. True, Laggy hadn't exactly forced him out of the office, but they wouldn't let Bishop clean up all by himself, either. Because it 'wasn't fair', or something.

"So, what? Just here to sightsee?" Casey smirked and struck a pose. Bishop blushed, but in the rank heat of the training room, it barely registered a shade.

"Can't we just chat? Ever?"

"Some of us got work to do, shorty." Casey blinked. "Oof. And I'd better get started if I'm gonna finish today." Casey's eyes stayed fixed ahead, reading some graphic visible only to her. Casey really was the complete package, not just in a gay way. She had the microtwitch-activated eyescreens, a reinforced skeleton, and a sickeningly efficient metabolism.

All Bishop had were these stupid heavy multitools dangling from his elbows.

Even if he couldn't use the gym for exercise, Bishop still had work to do. The other cybers saw more action than Bishop did, and were usually all too happy to spill the gory details.

"-starting to think it's some kind of gang sign," Bishop overheard from the deadlift area. A barbell with weights the size of Bishop's head was being easily palmed by a shorter cyber named Agrippa. "Crows said the last one was shot before the knife wounds."

"The crows don't know shit," Agrippa's spotter scoffed. He was a cyber Bishop didn't recognize, but that wasn't so unusual. "And would you drop that thing already? Need to tweak your load balancer."

The barbell slammed onto the floor with a shudder. Agrippa rolled the sleeve of her tee above her shoulder, revealing some kind of access panel for the spotter to tinker with. While the two of them were distracted, Bishop slid into conversation range.

"So who got got this time?" Bishop asked. The spotter closed up Agrippa's access panel, and Agrippa reached down for the barbell.

"Just some business goon." Agrippa had a much more difficult time lifting the barbell this time. Each word came out with a strained grunt.

"Nothing special," the spotter filled in. He'd turned to face Bishop, ignoring Agrippa as she struggled with the weight. "Probably another mugging gone wrong. Poor guy got hacked up by some sick fuck."

Bishop nodded in agreement. "Any info on the suspect?"

"Why do you ask?" the spotter cocked an eyebrow.

"I got cases too, genius. Might help to know who this 'sick fuck' is." Whoever this spotter was, he was proving a knack for getting under Bishop's skin. He had to be a recent hire, who'd assumedly leapfrogged right over Bishop and into the high-grade cases. Probably thought he'd earned the right to be arrogant.

Bishop couldn't afford to get worked up. Not after that run-in with Casey. And especially not during a discussion about a crime he 100% definitely did do.

"You and your newbie aren't fielding murder cases, are you? Just the low level stuff. What's that thing Kabal says? Something to cut your teeth on?" Without warning, the spotter reached out and held one of Bishop's longer-than-average fangs between his fingers. "Not like you need 'em any sharper, Bite-Size."

"Shut it!" Bishop snapped. A fucking stranger's hand was in his mouth. Time to get worked up. He slapped at the offending hand, but the spotter's arm held steady, moving a mere inch. Bishop snarled. If he wasn't still recovering, he would've torn this fucker to pieces.

The spotter laughed. "So the rumors are true. You're a funny little science experiment, that's for sure." He gestured at Bishop's comically inflated biceps and dull, cumbersome cybernetiks. "Are those arms of yours good for anything? Besides opening pickle jars?"

"Come on, North," Agrippa muttered, looking sideways at Bishop with a mix of embarrassment and pity that made Bishop's stomach turn.

Bishop glanced around for a flat surface. Behind him was a reclining utility bench. Perfect. Bishop pulled it over and rested an elbow on it, hand raised, open. A challenge.

"Fuck around and find out."

North leaned over to mirror Bishop's position, clasping Bishop's hand firmly. Agrippa walked away to find a spotter who would actually spot her, so the two of them had the deadlift station to themselves. North's grip was strong, but Bishop's metal fingers were stronger. Bishop leaned his forearm against North's hand, just long enough for his eyes to widen in disbelief. Bishop's biceps weren't just for show. This old-school tech was fucking heavy.

"On three?" Bishop asked casually, as if he couldn't see the sweat beading on North's brow.

North nodded. His unearned confidence was back. Probably thinking he imagined the part where Bishop's forearm seemed to weigh as much as a washing machine.

"One, two, three-"

North yelped. The bench's leather skin had split under the force of Bishop's arm. North's hand had struck the solid metal bars under the padding.

No one so much as acknowledged Bishop as he strutted out of the gym, leaving North to bleed over the torn gym bench. Sometimes Bishop was thankful no one really paid attention to him.

*makes fanart of my own shit*

Anyway. More later maybe? Converting this all to html is time consuming..