Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Chapter Text
“Have a good night, everyone.” said Buzzy, the captain of the 89th Squadron of Cranium Commandos - pilots of a 21 year old man named Robert. Well…Bobby, to just about everyone. Buzzy was an experienced captain, but you’d never know it by looking at him. He was meek and small. But, he had more than enough determination and resiliency for him to slowly work up the ranks all the way from Private to Captain.
He’d had control of Bobby since he was 12, when the previous Captain was reassigned to another brain due to underperformance. Buzzy had gotten pretty well into the groove of piloting, but every day had its fair share of curveballs.
Today was a particularly challenging day…Bobby had just gotten a new job as a chef. An underling, in-training, fresh out of cooking-school, but he found it SO much more stressful than he was expecting. The entire day was him just desperately trying to settle in while orders were being barked at him.
But, it was all over for the night. Buzzy reclined in his chair as he watched his windows to the world fade out, letting out a small sigh. “Goodnight, everyone.” He wished to his crew, to which they responded in kind. “Goodnight to you too, Hypothalamus.” Hypothalamus was probably the hardest working person in the whole brain, an unsung hero. Worked day and night with no time off, regulating various bodily functions. Buzzy liked to try and notice people like that.
“Thank you.” Hypothalamus replied, his voice it’s usual tone of flat and monotone. Buzzy gave a soft smile, as removed his headset and laid it on the control center.
Nighttimes were the small bits of freetime that the Cranium Command got, and they had to make the most of it. Well, most recruits did, at least - but Buzzy usually liked to hang around with the nighttime crew: Forebrain, Memory, and Imagination, and properly plan out his plan of attack for the following day. General Knowledge used to say that going above and beyond daytime hours was the mark of a great captain, and Buzzy took that to heart.
But, he needed a break…He was invited down to the local watering hole, the ‘hydrocephalus’, by Right Brain. Buzzy figured that they were going to see a lot of each other over the coming years and it was best they’d get acquainted.
He took off, but he made sure to zip up his bomber-jacket before he hopped out of his pilot’s seat. It was the symbol of his platoon, one he wore with pride. Plus, well- he just didn’t have many nice looking outfits…
The club was only a short walk away, and it was an experience like he’d never had. Blinding lights, blaring music, and blabbering patrons. He found it overwhelming, he couldn’t even find anyone he recognized… Immediately, he just decided that this was a terrible idea from the start and it was best to head (heh) back to base.
But, as he turned around to walk out, he crashed straight into someone. He fell to his backside, his glasses sliding off his face and onto his lap. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He politely squeaked, as he hopped up and readjusted his lenses…The person he’d just bumped into slowly came into focus. “...Oh my.” He squeaked,
Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Summary:
The introduction of our Capitan.
Notes:
A/N: My goodness, so- my first chapter got a good amount of positive feedback and- ah <3 i’m so happy!! Thank you all <3
Usual special thanks: Bunny, George, and Crow. Same as last chapter :P
Chapter Text
“Ughhhh. Finally…” Captain Cortex, Captain of the 88th Squadron of Cranium Commandos, groaned. This squad were the pilots of a 27 year-old man, named Michael. Michael was the head chef at a small french restaurant that looked fresh out of kitchen nightmares. It was cramped, old, slightly smelly…But somehow managed to pack the house every single night.
The workload was beginning to become overwhelming, and after much asking - The owner finally relented and just hired a new damn sous-chef. Though, the one they picked was…A bit inexperienced, to say the least. What was his name…Robby? Yea, that sounded about right. Wasn’t like he started a grease-fire or anything, just a bit sloppy…He’d settle in…soon enough.
As for the crack team piloting him, they’d held the reigns for roughly…9 years? 8? They actually got kicked off their last assignment…Pfft, you start *one* measly little fire trying to make a hot dog and they just kick you out.
But whatever, Captain Cortex didn’t like to dwell into the past when tomorrow held so many more opportunities.
He removed his headphones and hung them on the back of his Seat of Thought, Before hopping out of his seat to the ground below.
“B-but, Cappy, He only just laid down. He isn’t even asleep yet!” The squad’s Adrenal Gland protested, falling on deaf ears.
“Eh, You guys can manage. You done it a million times.” Captain Cortex just turned back, and shrugged. “Worst case scenario, just call me and I’ll be here…eventually.”
“Fine, I guess we’ll close up tonight…” Adrenal Gland groaned. He knew inevitably that the Captain was going to go out drinking, and even if they did need him he’d be too inebriated. Adrenal Gland was tempted to send a bolt of adrenaline through Mike just to piss his captain off, but he didn’t quite feel like stomaching a lecture from the squad’s General Knowledge.
It was a mystery for the ages how Captain Cortex got into his position. He lacked the dedication and drive many other Captains did…Some liked to speculate behind his back that he just had *really* good luck and failed his way upwards through nothing but pure charm.
Whatever the case, Captain Cortex didn’t even stop at home to change. He wore the same thing he wore every day, an orange jumpsuit with a white undershirt, and a baseball cap carrying the logo of his squadron.
He felt at home living the nightlife. The blinding lights, blaring music, and the blabbering patrons was all he knew. He liked living every single day to the fullest. He had a full friend group, and plenty of respect from his position. People considered him the ‘Ultimate in Cool.’
Hmm…Where to go tonight? There were a half dozen good bars around here…How about…Oh, Hypothalamus! No, no, that wasn’t it. Hydrocephalus. Yea. It was a place he’d always heard was kind of mediocre, so he just ignored it. But, whatever, tonight he was feeling a bit different. Try it first hand, what’s the worst that could happen?
As he walked through the building’s front doors, he was chatting with a good friend of his. One of the recruits from the 89th squadron, named Sito. He was completely distracted, not even noticing the people around him…
Until he bumped into someone.
His legs buckled, and he fell onto his backside. His head bounced off the edge of a nearby stool, and he was knocked loopy. His eyes swirling, birdies flying around his head.
After a minute, he shook himself out of it, standing up and dusting himself up. Getting a good look at the person he ran into…
He was instantly smitten.