Ten things you didn't know about the "bad guys".
Not quite a fic, but sort of a ficlet type thing. It's a little bit outside the box, and it helps a little with characterisation and stuff like that, so in my book it fits FFN's rules.
I don't own the characters, JP et al do.
Ten bucks says that FFN eats my formatting.
He used to look like his father. Everyone said so. After the graft he looks like his mother, and he likes that.
He had the gameboy for three days, and then he lost it. His memory is full of holes, and he doesn't know how to make them go away.
When he was three he wanted to be a girl.
That was only because Dad paid more attention to Max and Angel. Two girls. He thought it was because they were girls, not because they were special.
He sets off the metal detectors in airports – there are two pins in his neck where there used to be vertebrae. They could bring him back to life, but couldn't fix crushed bone.
They make him fly with company planes now.
He doesn't hate Fang. He's jealous, and doesn't like him much because of it.
He would have liked to have been friends with Gazzy.
He can read and write a little bit. He just wanted Max to teach him something like a big sister teaches a little brother.
He knew that he was going to die, and he was happy about it. The pain would go away, then.
Everyone thinks that he's a dry, boring and old asexual thing that was probably born with clothes on, because he was never, ever naked. 'Not Jeb Batchelder. He's boring.'
In fact, he slept with the Director once or twice.
He slept with Val Martinez too.
And his mentor in college, if you must know. It's more or less how he got the Doctorate.
The Erasers really are that good, and he's definitely able to compare.
He loves his children in his own way. He's proud of them.
He knows he'll never live up to them, what they are, what they can do. They're his biggest success, and that's the only way he'll ever beat them.
He's afraid of getting old. When he was thirty he volunteered for Expiration Date surgery. He'll be sixty.
He looks all girly because the Director likes little girls.
He wants a haircut.
He met his donor mother only once. She was smart, beautiful, charismatic, and devoted to Itex. A worthy mother. He was the disappointment, he'd never be a good son.
He doesn't know who his father is, and after her, he doesn't care to find out.
One of the Female Erasers kissed him once, on a dare. He didn't find out her name, and he thinks that's a shame. He would've liked to meet her.
He's not really a robot. He just remembers the electric shocks that they conditioned him with.
He's glad he's got no special abilities. He's seen what it's like for Mara.
He thinks that anyone who believes a word of Marian Janssen's propaganda is stupid.
He does what she says because she's scary. He wakes up screaming sometimes.
His German accent is horrible, but it's still better than his Russian.
She's not just a leopard hybrid. She knows that they messed with a few of her genes singly.
She's psychic because of it, and she hates it. It hurts.
They don't know about her ability. She's not that stupid.
She's got a tiny crush on Omega.
The rest of the time, she's terrified of him.
She stays with Itex, stays trapped, because the real world, outside, is worse.
She knows. She escaped once.
She'd like to properly meet Max and The Flock. What she's heard is impressive, and she likes a challenge. Besides, the clone told her that the dark one's not bad to look at.
She knows that they've cloned her. They're trying to figure out how she's still alive. She's a fluke. There's no one else like her.
Even with others in her head, she's always felt so very, very alone.
Her first husband had worked for a wartime Nazi program trying to create the perfect soldier.
When he died, she'd become the head of the small underground project that still tried to make the human race perfect.
He'd been executed by firing squad. Funny, that. They never did find out who the anonymous tipoff came from. She'd been careful.
Her group was about fifteen years ahead of everyone else. Money and a lack of ethics were useful.
In the seventies, one of her scientists thought he could use turtle DNA for longevity. She volunteered. She was only the business side of the operation, and therefore expendable.
She was also seventy-two, and she didn't want to die.
Her second husband died in mysterious circumstances six months after they were married, leaving his fortune and family castle to her.
She doesn't need to marry for money now – she owns half the world and nobody's smart enough to be worried.
She still sleeps with people for personal gain, though.
She always wanted a little girl, a daughter to raise and nurture and mould. She loves little girls. They're delicate and dainty. Little boys are terrors, and she tries to beat it out of them.