Carlos Ruiz knew himself for a hardened badass. He'd killed at least 5 people himself (the two drive-by shootings with his whole posse complicated the math), and had at least a dozen killed on his orders. 90% of the drug traffic in this quarter of the state passed through his hands, and Cartels treated with him as an independent worthy of respect, rather than a small-timer to be annexed or crushed. Not of which stopped him from cringing as the curly-haired old man leaned closer, examining Ruiz with that same distracted, absentminded air he'd used when spraying Ortiz with that chemical that had... had... dissolved him. Or pointing that little glowy thing that had left Hernandez drooling and gibbering on the floor, slowly clawing the flesh of his arms. Or when he'd first stepped through the wall that had simply dissolved out of his way, trailed by that pretty black woman who had, terrifyingly, simply looked resigned and a bit embarrassed about the entire situation.
Said woman was checking her phone. "Walter? I just got a message from Olivia -- we have to go."
The old man seemed to take a moment to come back from wherever his mind had wandered as he stared through Ruiz. "Oh? Oh! Well, then, I suppose we'll just have to go, then, won't we?" He sighed. "And I had such plans for this one -- he would have made an excellent subject. And example, of course. Very well, Astro, get the car, if you would be so kind. I'll be right along."
The woman twitched slightly, threw Ruiz an apologetic look that frightened him even more, and ducked out through the gap where most of his South wall used to be.
"Now, as for you, young man..." That mild, chiding tone was more terrifying than any such genial, scholarly speech had any right to be. "Today is your lucky day. But remember this:" And suddenly the absentminded expression vanished, replaced by a horrible, piercing focus. "One should never meddle in the affairs of mad scientists, for you are scum, and no one will miss you if I decide to make you part of my... experiments." And just like that, the genial, distracted mien was back. "Anyway, I have to run before Astra starts honking the horn. You have a nice evening, yes? Oh! Here, try one of my new special gummy worms -- I guarantee you'll love it!" Suiting action to words, the old man pulled a (slightly lint-y) wriggling candy from his pocket and popped it into Ruiz's gaping mouth. Obdiently, Ruiz started chewing, staring as the old man smiled at him in grandfatherly approval before turning and following the woman out, humming a jaunty tune and sort of dancing along to it.
When the acid trip hit a few seconds later, Ruiz found it downright peaceful by comparison.
...okay. So, this started as a "We've swapped Walter Bishop and Walter White" idea, but the problem was that left the Fringe side of the swap to get curbstomped by the MOTW due to Insufficient Mad Science on their side. But after toying with the idea a bit, I came up with this: what if Walter Bishop was Walter White, aka the drug lord Heisenberg? Walter's day job is saving the world with Fringe Division, but on the side he keeps experimenting with Mad Science and creates narcotics to fund his off-the-books research. The result is... actually more than a little scary.
Said woman was checking her phone. "Walter? I just got a message from Olivia -- we have to go."
The old man seemed to take a moment to come back from wherever his mind had wandered as he stared through Ruiz. "Oh? Oh! Well, then, I suppose we'll just have to go, then, won't we?" He sighed. "And I had such plans for this one -- he would have made an excellent subject. And example, of course. Very well, Astro, get the car, if you would be so kind. I'll be right along."
The woman twitched slightly, threw Ruiz an apologetic look that frightened him even more, and ducked out through the gap where most of his South wall used to be.
"Now, as for you, young man..." That mild, chiding tone was more terrifying than any such genial, scholarly speech had any right to be. "Today is your lucky day. But remember this:" And suddenly the absentminded expression vanished, replaced by a horrible, piercing focus. "One should never meddle in the affairs of mad scientists, for you are scum, and no one will miss you if I decide to make you part of my... experiments." And just like that, the genial, distracted mien was back. "Anyway, I have to run before Astra starts honking the horn. You have a nice evening, yes? Oh! Here, try one of my new special gummy worms -- I guarantee you'll love it!" Suiting action to words, the old man pulled a (slightly lint-y) wriggling candy from his pocket and popped it into Ruiz's gaping mouth. Obdiently, Ruiz started chewing, staring as the old man smiled at him in grandfatherly approval before turning and following the woman out, humming a jaunty tune and sort of dancing along to it.
When the acid trip hit a few seconds later, Ruiz found it downright peaceful by comparison.
...okay. So, this started as a "We've swapped Walter Bishop and Walter White" idea, but the problem was that left the Fringe side of the swap to get curbstomped by the MOTW due to Insufficient Mad Science on their side. But after toying with the idea a bit, I came up with this: what if Walter Bishop was Walter White, aka the drug lord Heisenberg? Walter's day job is saving the world with Fringe Division, but on the side he keeps experimenting with Mad Science and creates narcotics to fund his off-the-books research. The result is... actually more than a little scary.