Killian knew that Walter Beckett would be back. Good-hearted types like him tended to be doggedly persistent in taking care of others. Including, him apparently. The jailbird, Walter hoped would sing, given enough compassion. An unlikely feat, given that he was stuck in a jail cell for God knows how long and that Walter's visits were mild entertainment at best, in an environment lacking in intrigue.
Days after his last visit, Walter returned like Killian had expected, with a barely suppressed, idiotic grin that Killian eyed with suspicion. What naïve, idealistic pitch did the scientist have in store for him today?
"Ah, the inventor extraordinaire, what brings you here?" Killian asked, with enough interest to hide his disdain. Better to indulge the kid and get it over and done with. He mused. So he can lose interest and move on to playing games on his phone. Or whatever the younger generation did for fun nowadays.
Walter's dedication, however was far from faltering. He had already given Killian the inspiration to change his perspective. All that remained was to fit him with a new robotic arm, that would encourage a crafty, non-violent way of problem solving.
Designing the arm so it wouldn't resemble a robotic claw machine, had been a breeze. Convincing a captive audience, literally, was a different story.
OK, Walter. Keep it cool, do it just like you rallied himself and channelled his nerves into doing the best presentation he could.
"I couldn't help but notice that the agency hasn't issued you with a new prosthetic yet." Walter brought up the topic of the makeshift claw that was more like a cheap, plastic pincer, attached to Killian's bicep.
Killian briefly glanced at the sorry excuse for a hand, and returned his gaze to Walter with a hard look, as if to say, "Are you serious?"
But still, Killian had removed his claw, which was a good sign. And whatever came next was sure to impress Killian.
"I took the liberty of making some modifications to your new arm. I think you'll find that—"
"I only have one question. Does it contain sparkles, rainbows or any kind of holographic imagery involving baby animals?" Killian sighed and asked for a list of potential deal breakers. All the things that Walter specialized in.
"I mean, I did accessorize one of the gadgets with colours of the rainbow, but it's not the main point." Walter stressed, his own voice rising from having to defend yet another invention. The days of vouching for his inventions to an unsympathetic audience at work was over, that much he was thankful for.
But an undertaking with a hardened criminal had a way of challenging him, much like before.
"Look, I appreciate the arm," Killian inserted the new prosthetic and flexed its more human digits. "But I'll have no use for whatever 'upgrades' you installed."
Killian made his intentions clear and watched as Walter's face fell. Poor kid, he thought. But the sooner he realizes that not everything had its place, the better.
"Maybe you will, one day." Walter murmured and turned towards the door, eyes looking at its observation window—his way out, of another disappointment.
Lunchtime had come and Killian was in the prison canteen amongst his fellow inmates. Liable to switch arguing over who shot the most hoops in the courtyard, to how many heads they'd crunched.
An agreeable lot, Killian thought.
Lunch for the day consisted of a piece of white bread, baked beans, strips of bacon and plain steamed potatoes in a plastic tray. The cheapest, minimally nutritious food the prison could offer its inmates.
In an effort to blend in, Killian sat with a group of prisoners where an Australian cyborg would not stand out. Including a man, whose greasy hair and beady eyes made him look like a badger. And a bespectacled man with shaved hair, that made his forehead look too big.
A few tables across, a limp, sandy haired man was hacking and coughing. Trying to clear his airways of lodged food. While the other prisoners watched, as he stumbled.
Looks like someone didn't chew his chunky potatoes enough. Killian thought with amusement.
But amusement soon turned into concern, after Mr. Carefree chewer unfortunately spat the offending piece of stringy bacon, into the face of one of the toughest inmates.
"You think, you can just spit in my face like a llama?!" A burly convict with a sleeve tattoo and a goatee, yelled at the man in danger of requiring imminent medical attention.
"I was c-choking!" He explained himself to no avail, earning himself a punch to the face that set off a prison brawl. Prisoners were flung into walls and trays slammed in each other's sides, resembling an unchoreographed wrestling match.
Getting up from his seat, Killian left the table before the chaos descended into a food fight.
It occurred to Killian, that perhaps this was what Walter had been referring to. The day that he would come to use those gadgets of his. It would be potentially embarrassing to give them a test run. But since the canteen was in complete disarray, Killian figured he could get away with it, with his dignity intact.
"Choke on this." Killian aimed his prosthetic hand at the hot-tempered troublemaker, with a wolfish grin and released a spray of glitter. The projected image of an adorable kitten on the sea of sparkling material, capturing the heart of every inmate. Animal lover or otherwise.
"What?" Killian blinked, surprised by the familiar gimmick. The scientist had gone and done it. He had dared to install one of the instruments of his capture, in his own arm.
The same arm that Killian could use to give everyone a taste of glittery law enforcement, he realized. Scanning the room for signs of the goateed man, Killian located his target and launched a projectile from his claw, like a missile.
A snake would be a better word for it, Killian concluded as he watched a neon-yellow robotic snake coil around the man's legs, making him fall to the ground. Walter's inventions had effectively ended the fight, with the equivalent of a spring snake in a prank can.
—
After witnessing the prison riot slow to a halt, Killian had requested an unprecedented audience with Walter. The last few visits, he recognized, had always been on his terms. Listen to the kid, mock him a little and watch him leave, only for him return more impassioned than before.
He didn't deserve his kindness and it was about time that he repayed the favour.
"You have knack for building inventions that contain the situation, don't you?"
Walter's eyes opened wide at the compliment. Killian had liked his gadgets. The same Killian that had sent him packing, when trying to convince him of their merits.
When Walter didn't say anything for a while, Killian recalled a similar effect in the canteen.
"Cat's got your tongue, I see. Just like everyone else when they saw the light show." He chuckled, snapping Walter out of his disbelief induced silence.
"You're on to something here, you know, so keep tinkering with your tripping hazards." Killian told Walter, gifting him with the satisfaction of winning over his previous skeptic.
Prompt= Killian using glitter in a prison riot with his new arm. Fic= Finished. Thank you for reading and reviewing my drabbles.