Call Sigh: Silhouette

Call sigh: Silhouette

You are nearly as mysterious as Ghost…. But if you asks Laswell your are harder to find. When Price was making 141 she brought you up. You were her pick.

Agreeing is one thing, Price didn’t need convincing, but finding you was a whole other ordeal. You weren’t in any real military branch, your a contractor.

When Laswell finally found you, you only agree to join as a contractor, not as an official member.

Soap and Gaz we’re the two most excited to meet you, to know who this figment of imagination is. You lived up to the mystery but the hype they thought you get or give died the moment you walked through the military wear house cover from head to toe in black.

The worse part was everyone begin to compare you to Ghost. If Ghost was the standard you were his shadow.

It never bothered you. After all you were just a rumor, a Ghost’s shadow, and everyone knows ghost don’t exist.

———

I will be writing more silhouette stories if you have any question or ideas feel free to asks!

Humanoid monster

Previous, Next

“What was that about?” Soap asks Gaz. The two of them backed down when the reporters got nosy, they followed her all night long hounding her for answers.

“Abraham believed In a theory, it's written in Latin so either she knows Latin or Abraham told her.” Gaz grumble digging through his notebook.

“What theory?”

“There was a time were humans and monsters got along, they worshiped this female deity. She was murdered, and war broke out, Abraham was born in the last few days of her reign.” Gaz explains finding his notes he had written about back when he was in school.

“So?”

“So Abraham no longer speaks about this time, and in one of his papers, he theorizes this deity is still alive.”

“Mate—”

“That woman is highly educated, she shouldn't be, she wasn't born here she *came* here. Teaching humans is banned in all states except for Switzerland, how does she know?” Gaz asks Soap shrug, it didn't sound important to him but from the look on Gaz’s face said it all.

“Mr. Garrick,” the two sergeants froze and turned to see Priscilla standing there peeping her head in head feather raising in slight embarrassment. “Do we need to cancel flight training?”

“No!” Gaz shouts and walks closer to her. “Your mother.”

“yes?”

“Did she go to school?” asked a question with a smile.

“No… Why?”

“Well your mother knows things she shoulders like a diety—“

“Oh you mean Abraham’s fairytales? he likes to tell fairytales when we were little, you know? of a better time where we’re all equal, it helped most of us sleep.” Priscilla says fondly with a sweet smile on her lips.

Gaz sighs and Soap pats him on the shoulder, with a small reassuring look and smile, “See mate, you overthinking it.”

“Your mother where did she come from?”

“She came from South America and found most of us traveling up to North America and sailing over to Asia, then traveling to Switzerland.” Gaz nods and the two walk to the field with the little Harpies.

The press saw them, and the monster swarmed them, “What’s your view of the orphanage director?” The first reporter asks.

“She’s my mother—"

“So she cut off your wings?”

“No! She found me like this—“

“If given the opportunity would you go home?”

“This is my home!” Priscilla shouts her frustration begins to teetering on tears. Gaz spread his wings out blocking her from the cameras.

“Don’t bother the kid—“

“As a soldier in the monster military aviator wing, what’s your view of this almost dystopian utopia?” One Gargon asks her snakes hissing with delight and anticipation.

“I am weary but everything here so far looks good, and the orphanage director didn’t know we were coming or how long we are staying,” Gaz said in the most PR statement possible. Switzerland has one of the biggest armies, and it is wise not to attack its citizens and their politics. The media followed them, Priscilla couldn't stop looking over her shoulder, they were making her uncomfortable.

“What's your relationship with each other?” a reporter asks.

“I'm helping the younger harpies fly.”

The reporters mostly watched, occasionally they would speak to their camera, and it was easy to hear them.

“Most of these harpies are missing wings or mutilated. We suspect that the orphanage—”

“Shut up, pendejo!” One of the kids shouts at the reporters. “We all had these injuries before the orphanage.”

“It’s done by you monsters,” another girl snaps.

“Why do you defend this place?”

“It’s our home,” nearly everyone replies.

—-

The air of attrition on cordiality was fading, for every child was a surveillance camera all going back to Mother Maia. This was not lost on anyone, not the soldiers or the reporters.

The children slowly became guarded. Weary and secretive. It wasn’t lost on the task force that they were no longer welcomed there. The gargoyle creatures that usually only watch began to show themselves more often, the dragons were more active, and they were expanding their territory.

Both sides of the war were left with little progress made, and far more interest in the orphanages. The human side is more than the monster’s.

“Maia,” Abraham walks into the dimly lit office. She looks up, and the veil hangs up on her hat hook. Abraham nodded and sat down. “My old contacts have warned me that the monsters have decided to hack—”

“I understand” Mother Maia responded in a calm tone, “I’ll change a few things. The only thing they will get is the spending log, it’s best.” She smiles and begins to type away.

“There have been talk about monsters adopting—”

“I will not allow it,” Mother Maia looks up, “we both know the children who will be adopted will be sent into the military or worse eaten, I am no fool and neither than you.” Abraham smiles and nods before standing up, his wings doing a small stretch.

“I am glad we are on the same page,” Abraham said with a smile, Mother Maia only nodded and continued to work.

Abraham always knew humans were not equal to monsters in strength, but their intelligence is quite admirable. It’s been centuries since Abraham found a human he could view as equal, but another Maia was that human.

She was articulate and wise for someone who never had a true education. And yet with his simple guidance, she was able to keep her children.

“What about the new disease?” Abraham froze and sighed. Everyone knew at this point, even the humans.

“The Monster scientists have named it Cerebrum deterioration, or as the soldiers call it brain rot.” Abraham studied Mother Maia’s face, most humans couldn't hide their glee when disguising this topic, all except for Mother Maia.

“How pitiful, has it linked to the human resistance?” she sighs the scars across her face rippling with the slight movement of her face.

“No, the scientists said it was discovered rather than made.” Mother Maia nods and continues to write.

“Let's keep informed if a war breaks out this could affect this free state.” Mother Maia said sternly. Abraham agreed. “And when the vaccine is made, be sure to be one of the first to get it, you are a model.” Abraham laughs but nods.

“You are a strange one—”

“I am only being realistic Abraham, even though you've been a pacifist for a few hundred years, you still hold power.”

“Of course.”

Imagine 141 stumbling across an unhinged hacker reader? Like raccoon behavior, full on rabid and delusional.

I do badly want to write a small fic where Graves has an adopted daughter, who’s a little strange

Serial Killer

So I always see a lot of headcanons of serial killer cod characters but what if 141 meets a serial killer reader? Like some John Wick shit... Even though I wrote a cross over.

Writing for Nikto

I'm thinking about writing a sweet headcanon for him, idk his characteristic very well but got this cute idea.