relia-robot-writes

[relia-robot-writes]

Inspired by https://www.tumblr.com/serpexnessie/790211339582881792/i-fucked-up-i-spent-too-much-time-on-this-dnd

You kneel down next to your party's Mage, running your fingers over her cracked and broken porcelain, your magic flowing out of you to patch and heal. Your fingers almost brush against the fine red strings that trail from her limbs up into the air, always visibly taut regardless of what position she takes. Your eyes try to track the point where they vanish into the aether, but near the end the difference between "there" and "not there" is impossible to see. She stirs, and her eyelids slide open with a clacking noise. She sits up, slowly, her strings pulling her arms and back.

"Thank you," she murmurs, taking your hand in hers.

"Hold still", you say, not letting her go. "I'm not finished yet."

"But you're unhurt?"

You focus on healing her for a moment, until the weight of her soft gaze pierces your heart. "Yes, I'm fine." You meet her eyes, made of glass, dark hazel and entrancing. "But you shouldn't have leapt in front like that. Taking hits and getting hurt is my job."

"It was tactically efficient," she says, in those same soft tones. "And besides..." She lifts one hand, red string twisting as she flexes her ball-jointed wrist and her fingers clack against each other. "This doll is made for this, after all. To ensure no real people get hurt."

Your fist hits the ground before you realize you've swung it, the dull thud making her jerk in surprise. "YOU'RE real!" You shout, your other companions looking up in alarm from across the camp. "You deserve- happiness! Love! To not be forced into the middle of a conflict when you should be kept safe-"

"In a glass box, on a shelf, perhaps?" You flinch, but she continues to stare at you, unblinking and soft. Her dress rustles as she reaches out to stroke your arm, and it tingles where her strings rub against your skin. "No. This doll cannot be safe. But it can be near you-"

"And get hurt again?!" You grit your teeth, hissing like a wild animal trapped between a wall and a predator.

"My companion, please, do not get upset about this doll's fate. After all, it is only a-"

"Don't say it!" You shout, grabbing at her, to do what, you don't know. Shake her, maybe, or force her to lie down and rest, but you miss, and your hand grabs something that feels like a lightning bolt just ran down your arm, shock and pain with the inability to let go for even a second.

You've grabbed her string.

Her right wrist twitches as it dangles from your fist, then falls limp. She looks at it in shock, then at you, the lightning bolt still coursing down your arm. Slowly, your fist and her hand move, and you aren't certain who's moving who. Her hand caresses your cheek, and before you realize it you've pulled her into a kiss, her porcelain skin cool on your burning face. After a moment, you separate, still holding her string in your hand.

"There will be consequences for this," she whispers in your ear. "A doll may be disposable, but those that create them guard them jealously. Still," she - you? - presses her lips to you again, seams in her face cutting into your skin, her strings burning in your hand. "For as long as you want me, I'm yours. For what kind of marionette argues with its puppeteer?"

[relia-robot-writes]

It blinked out of the inky blackness within the circle, amber eyes shining through the dark.

"Y-you can say no! I-I don't mean to- uh- well-" the summoner stammered.

"Repeat your request."

"I- uh-"

"Repeat. Your request."

"Uh... will you go to prom with me?"

The darkness roiled for a moment. "For what purpose? Elaborate."

The summoner's young face reddened. After a moment, they muttered something almost unhearable.

The darkness in the small room intensified, reducing the candles to pinpricks of light in the gloom. "Speak. Clearly."

The summoner swallowed, and opened their mouth, only for a small croak to emerge. They took a deep breath, screwed up their face, and let everything out in a rush. "I got transmuted and I really like this form and I want to go to prom and wear a pretty dress and dance with someone nice but all my friends are acting weird and they don't let new transmutes go without a date and this is my last chance before I graduate and you definitely count as an older partner and the texts I was reading said you've aided great heroes in the past and I thought maybe that meant you were nice and I'm sorry this was dumb I should send you back I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!!"

The darkness eased back into the summoning circle, allowing the fairy lights near the ceiling to shine their muted colors onto the summoner, now kneeling on the floor and crushing the bouquet to their chest. Hot tears ran down their face as the darkness swirled in the circle, yellow eyes watching them.

"A pact for protection," it said. "Very well. I can provide this."

The summoner looked up at the shape, sniffling, but remembering their training. "A-and what will be the price?"

"My price is time. Like for like. One evening of my choosing, your soul will be mine. Do you accept?"

The summoner trembled for a moment, then nodded. "I do."

The darkness swirled again, coalescing into a humanoid form, skin dark as night, long black skirt flowing over longer legs, suitcoat adorned with cufflinks of onyx and a black undershirt with a black tie. Long, dark hair spilled from its head, full lips forming under pupil-less amber eyes, shining in the dark. It extended one midnight-black hand to the summoner as it stepped out of the circle.

"Shall we?"

You just got summoned for the first time in Millennia. But different from your expectations, the Summoner doesn't want Power, Death and destruction. Instead, you find the nervous Summoner holding a bouquet of Flowers right outside a messy summoning circle, asking you to accompany them to Prom.

[relia-robot-writes]

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[relia-robot-writes]

"...pardon?"

"Yeah, I really need the works on this one. Spiky black armor, volcano lair, orcs and goblins, the whole shebang."

You float in stunned silence. The goddess before you is enormous, taking up an infinite amount of space in this strange void. Her face is featureless, her wings and body glowing with divine light, but you got the impression that if she could light a cigarette, she would.

"Look, kid-"

"I'm forty-seven-"

She stops you with a look, which you wouldn't have thought would be possible without eyes, but it's surprisingly easy when her face is several stories tall. "Kid," she says, "the fact is, my world is in a pretty stagnant position. We're lousy with destined heroes, but they don't have anything to do, so they end up bullying dragons and trying to bother the Dark Gods, which it turns out are also me. It's tremendously distracting when one adventurer is trying to kill you while his girlfriend is begging for your divine protection. Frankly, I need a break."

"You want me to build up an evil empire because you're overworked?"

She curls one mighty finger and claps you on the back. "Now you've got it! I'll make sure you've got some local help, but really I just need you to get the forces of darkness organized down there. Its a mess, I tell ya, they need some real evil leadership."

"...how evil are we talking, here?"

"Eh," she waggles her enormous hand in front of you, "you know. Enough to be scary, not enough to cause the forces of light to make me come in and smite you. Do something flashy, sack a town here and there, maybe cook up a dark ritual or something a hero can stop without actually killing you. I don't care if you're a soft touch, but you keep that on the down-low, yeah? I want these adventurers scared enough of you that they maybe do some actual sidequesting first."

You spend a moment in thought. "Does it have to be spiky armor?"

"Well, I just assumed... listen, you want the high heels and latex look, it's all yours. You do you."

"Sold!"

When you die and appear before a goddess, you think she'll ask you to be a summoned hero (which you dread). Instead, she asks you to become a dark lord and build an evil empire.

[relia-robot-writes]

Previously

I stood in the bathroom staring at the mirror, still covered in steam from Lilith's shower. I'd been standing there for several minutes. I could vaguely make out the shape of my new face, greenish and strange. I half-reached towards the mirror to wipe it clean so I could really see it, then let my hand fall to my side for the fifth time. I was trembling, staring at the softly glowing eyes of my reflection through the mist as it slowly cleared away. I just couldn't...

I just couldn't. I needed to, and I couldn't. Would the real me, the real Kathrine, have been braver, in my place?

"Hey," said a voice from my right, and I jumped. Kathrine stood before me, her hand half-extended to touch me. She let it fall. "It's all right. I think you look kind of cute, actually."

I looked at her, seeing her face - my old face - like it was a mirror, but really looking for the first time. Brown, curly hair, soft cheeks, full lips. Stunning blue eyes that looked both kind and worried about me. I knew that other people had found me cute, before, but I'd never quite believed it. Not really. But... Kathrine was cute. Like, cute cute. I got lost in her eyes for a moment.

She glanced towards the mirror, looking guilty. "Here, we can do it together, okay?" Her hand reached for mine, and without thinking I reached back. Hand in hand, we reached forward and wiped off the mirror.

My new face was green, dark green, circuitboard green, an image solidified by the golden wiring running its way all around my features. It was segmented into smaller plates, and I could see servos and pistons in the cracks between when I moved. My nose wasn't the skeletal hole I'd been dreading, but instead a kind of peak in the central plate with two narrow holes leading inside. Without the cartilage and fat, my new face looked smaller, things reduced in detail, like a sketch instead of a full drawing. The exceptions were my eyes - golden, with wide black irises, lit from within by some kind of status LED - and my lips. They were some kind of translucent grey silicone cushion which stretched and moved as the underlying plates shifted beneath it. In various places on the plating, more status LEDs shone in a variety of colors, blues and yellows and reds. I reached up my hand to touch my face, and could feel the ridges of the circuitry and the bumps of the LEDs just as my cheek felt the artificial softness of my fingers.

"You're beautiful," Kathrine said, looking at me through the mirror. She turned to face me, our hands still linked, and when I twisted around to face her, she placed her hand just under my chin, very gently. I gasped softly at the touch, and she carefully moved her thumb up to touch my lips. I parted them without thinking, barely daring to breathe as she rubbed her thumb along them. "They're so soft," she murmured to herself. Her face was very close. I tilted my head slightly, and she did too. My other hand went to her waist, and we drew closer together-

And then the doorbell rang. Both of us sprang away from each other, cheeks glowing in different but very similar ways. "I, uh, I better go- that's probably- I mean, it might be- uh, I'll be back," she said, looking down and away.

She spun around to go, and on impulse I grabbed her arm. She glanced back at me, and somehow I managed to stammer out, "I- I think you're really pretty, too!" She blushed harder, and made as if she was going to say something dismissive, but I cut her off. "I know! I know you don't believe it. I didn't. But you are!" I wasn't sure exactly what I looked like when I was blushing, but it felt like the room was practically on fire with how my cheeks felt. "You are."

She was left speechless. I glanced up to try to look her in the eyes, and I saw that they were wet with almost-tears. The doorbell rang again, and I let her hand go so she could wipe her eyes before answering.

---

I decided to sit at the top of the stairs and listen in on the conversation below.

"Agent Franklin, hello. Another round of questions?" Kathrine sounded tired, and her voice was still a little wobbly.

There was a brief electronic noise, and then a reserved, feminine voice said, "No, ma'am, just checking in on you after last night's assault concern. I got your message that you were safe, but you know I had to come and verify that in person."

"Well, as you can see, I'm as human as the next woman," said Kathrine. I snorted quietly.

"So you are, ma'am. As long as I'm here, can I ask you a few more questions? There's some things I want to clear up."

A sigh. "Sure, Agent Franklin. Come on in, meet my wife."

The conversation drifted into the living room where it was harder to hear. I strained my ears, but didn't dare go downstairs myself. I don't know what this mysterious agent's view of me would be, but I really didn't want to risk getting shot at again.

"Mrowp?"

I looked down and saw Drake, our orange cat (their orange cat, I was an intruder and didn't deserve him) staring at me. Hesitantly, I put out my knuckles towards him. How would he react now that I was...

He immediately bumped his tiny head into my knuckles and rubbed past them to get onto my lap. He rose up, paws landing on my shoulder, and he sniffed at my face. I held still. For a long moment, I wasn't sure what he would do; then, with a happy "Brrrowt!", he headbutted me on the cheek and curled right up in my lap, purring like a motorboat.

"Ohhhh! Tiny boy! Tiny baby boy," I crooned at him, scratching underneath his chin. I could have cried, if my tear ducts were still working. "Oh, buddy, you don't even know how much that means to me. You don't even know! Do you? Do you baby boy?" I got my other hand in behind his ears. "Ohhhhh, baby boy!"

There was a shout, and I looked up right into the bright green eyes of a woman with dark skin wearing a black suit and holding a gun in her hands. I froze, causing Drake to mrowl in protest. Kathrine was right behind her, also frozen, uncertain what to do.

"Um," I said, as the barrel of the gun held steady at the floor. "Agent Franklin, I presume?"

---

"It's vital evidence in our case!"

"She is a person and she deserves rights just as much as any of us. I won't let you take her away!"

We'd reconvened in the living room. The conversation between Agent Franklin and Kathrine had become a shouting match, but at least the gun was holstered again. I sat on the couch, making myself as small as possible. I didn't dare raise my voice - what if she saw me as just another aggressive evil robot?

"It isn't a person. That was the whole point of them," said Agent Franklin, exasperated. "You're being fooled by a trick you already know is fake. Look at it! It's not human!"

I burrowed further into myself, but Lilith snaked her hand into mine and squeezed it. Despite myself, I looked up to see her smiling at me. She turned back towards the conversation without letting go. "Agent, it doesn't matter if she's human or not. She's a part of our family now," my eyes widened as the words sank in, and I nearly missed the next part, "so if you want to claim her, you'd better come back with a warrant." I stared at her, open-mouthed, then glanced at Agent Franklin. Her face was knotted in a mix of anger and concern.

After a moment, she sighed. "Fifth one today. I keep trying to tell you people these things are dangerous, but nobody listens to me."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Kathrine sat back down, looking smug. "Ah, yes, the dangerous robotgirl, petter of cats and holder of hands."

Franklin's resigned look turned sour. "I mean it, ma'am. They may not have weapons, but they can kill just as easily as any person with the flip of a switch. It may look docile now, but what happens if its creators return?"

Kathrine's smile turned brittle. "I've told you before, Agent. We've isolated their control pathways and found ways to disable them. I turned off her receiver myself this morning. She's safe." she stood, walking to the door. "It's been nice to see you, Agent Franklin. If you have any more questions, I'm happy to answer them over the phone." She opened the door, and Agent Franklin took the hint. She nodded to Lilith and Kathrine before she left, leaving me with just a piercing look.

Kathrine closed the door behind her, stood there for a moment, then collapsed onto the floor. "Holy shit," she breathed. "I thought for sure I was gonna get myself arrested. Fuck."

I drew further back into the couch and let out a shuddering breath. "I thought I was going to get scrapped."

I felt Lilith's hand leave mine and I folded my arms over my knees. Of course she'd want to comfort her real wife. It made sense. My breathing hastened, beginning to shudder, until I felt the couch jerk as someone dropped onto it, leaning against me. A moment later, a blanket was draped over the two of us, and I opened my eyes to see Lilith leaning down to hug Kathrine and I together. She squeezed us tightly and said, "You both did great. Stay there and be cozy for a minute. I'll make us some tea."

Still shivering from nerves, our hands found each other and squeezed tight under the blanket.

[relia-robot-writes]

previously

After we carefully got down off the roof, we all sat down in the living room. I retrieved the knife and put it in the sink to wash later, after rinsing off my fake blood; Kathrine took back the gun and disarmed it before putting it away in the important documents safe. "So, what now?" I asked, my new voice tinny and synthesized in my ears. "You said you were kidnapped, and I'm... I mean, can they take remote control of me, or something? What if I hurt you?"

Lilith put her hand on my knee, and I squeezed it before I remembered that she wasn't really my wife, not actually. I pulled back, and crossed my arms over my chest.

"It's okay," said Kathrine. "When we escaped, we took all their systems offline and called the authorities. By the time we got out, some kind of explosion went off, too - some kind of fail-safe, I guess. Whoever they were, they're on the run, now. We're safe. It should be all over the news tomorrow - people are going to be on alert for weird robot duplicates now."

"But even I couldn't tell it wasn't you," said Lilith. "Aren't any other duplicates out there going to be impossible to detect?" She yawned, and I checked the clock - it was nearly 2 AM.

"No, I mean," Kathrine yawned, too, infected by Lilith. "We grabbed some data that should make them really easy to find, and shared it out. I'll explain tomorrow. For now, I'm fucking exhausted."

"Y-yeah," I said, "You two should get some sleep."

That got me a look from both of them. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, uh... I mean, I don't even know if I need sleep-"

"You do," said Kathrine. "The duplicates needed time to process all the data they got during the day. I'd be surprised if you didn't need it more than we do."

"Oh," I said. "Um. Then, I guess... I'll just grab a blanket and sleep on the couch."

Kathrine got up and sat down next to me. "Hey, there's plenty of room on the bed, we can-"

I scooted away from her before her hand could land on my shoulder. "You've been gone for months, you said? You deserve to sleep next to your wife. Besides, you know we don't sleep well if we can't be on the right side of the bed. I'll be fine." I got up to grab the blankets from the closet, and I heard Kathrine stand up behind me, but she didn't say anything. When I returned, I could hear the two of them murmuring to each other upstairs. I flung out the blanket, rearranged the pillows, shucked my dress, laid down and tried to get some sleep. I could swear that my eyes illuminated the darkness before I closed them.

When I awoke, I felt bleary, and awful. That joke I made about not being real the night before was weighing on my mind. I wasn't real. I wasn't Kathrine. What did that mean? Was I one transmission away from turning into some kind of remote-controlled killer? Could I be shut off, brain-wiped, removed from existence? I didn't even know when I was created, or how long I'd been "alive". A couple of months, Kathrine had said. Had I stolen her Christmas? Or had I never really had one of my own? I rolled over, pulling the blankets tight over my body. Still flesh, or fake flesh, except for my face. I hadn't had the strength to look myself in the mirror yet. Was I some kind of awful Terminator skeleton? My breath hitched, and I realized that even that was probably fake, an affectation for a robot spy, not a real feeling.

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud fan turning on, and the smell of crisp bacon. My stomach growled - another fake sensation? - and I heard Lilith cry out "Breakfast!". I rolled over again, pulling the blankets over my head.

A moment later, they were yanked off. "Hey, that means you, too," she said, pressing her finger to the tip of my metallic forehead.

"But- I mean, I don't even-"

"You've eaten breakfast every day you've been here so far, however long that's been, and I know it makes you feel better when you get a hot meal. Come eat."

She left me blinking as she returned to the kitchen. I rose, wrapping the blanket around myself, and followed her. Kathrine was already there, looking at something on her laptop. "Morning," she said, around a mouthful of breakfast sandwich. "Sleep well?"

I sat down, and a plate full of bagel-bacon-egg-hashbrown sandwich appeared before me. "There'll be cinnamon rolls soon, too," said Lilith over her shoulder as she went to the coffee machine.

"Why are you both," I hiccupped, hands clenched around the blanket. "Why are you being so nice to me? I invaded your home, your lives-"

Kathrine reached across the table and put her hand around mine. "Not your fault. I've been looking at the data we grabbed before we left - all the duplicates were made via direct brain scans of the people they kidnapped. I want to do a firmware update on you later to make sure you don't have any networking backdoors, but you're just as much me as I am."

"Besides," said Lilith, sitting next to me, "we've talked before about what we'd do if we found a clone of each other." She smirked, and suddenly the room got very warm. "Eat your breakfast," she said, her smile turning gentle. "You've been through a lot, and we have time to figure things out together."

Hesitantly, I picked up the bagel and took a bite.

It was delicious.

Next

[relia-robot-writes]

"I- I don't understand," I stammered. It was like looking in a mirror. I backed away from my duplicate, edging ever closer to the roof's edge. "Where did you come from? Why are you here? What did I ever do to you?!"

The other me laughed, a slightly manic tone to it as she pointed the knife at me, blade shining in the moonlight. "You stole my whole life! My job, my house, my friends, my wife! What, are you going to pretend you did it by accident?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about!" I backed away again, but tripped, falling backwards, my back now to a sheer three-story drop. "I've lived here for fifteen years! I met Lilith on our first date five years ago! I remember, I- I thought-"

"You LIAR!" My clone shouted, and dove at me, knife in hand. I screamed in pain as the blade sliced open my cheek, and again as it plunged into my shoulder. I struggled to get control, but I could feel my arm losing its strength as the blade trembled between the two of us. I didn't want to hurt her! I didn't want to die! What could I-

"Drop the knife! Both of you!"

Lilith had made her way onto the roof, finally, and in her hand she held the gun my clone had dropped during the chase. She gripped it hard, pointing it in our direction.

"Lilith," said the clone, "Lilith, it's me, it's Kathrine, you have to believe me, I got kidnapped, I haven't been here for months, you've been living with this impostor-"

The safety on the gun clicked, but the muzzle wavered. "I said, drop the knife."

Slowly, she released her pressure on it, and so did I. When she let go, I knocked it off the roof. I gasped, bleeding, barely able to rise to my knees. "Lilith, I don't know what's going on. I've been here," I gulped, gasping against the pain, "the whole time. The cats know it's me, you know how they get with strangers-"

My clone snarled at me. "The cats? You even managed to fool the cats?! You bitch!" She grabbed my dress, hauling me to my feet. I hung on desperately to her hands, all too aware of the drop behind me.

"I don't-" I started, at the same time Lilith shouted, "Put her down! I'm warning you!"

My clone's eyes were wild, deranged, panicked, darting back and forth between Lilith and I. As her eyes settled on me, she stared at something on my face. "I can prove it," she breathed. "I can prove it!" She shouted to Lilith. "Watch! I'm the real Kathrine!" She reached up towards the cut in my face and dug her nails in. I screamed, closing my eyes, Lilith shouted something, and then...

And then it was quiet. It didn't hurt anymore. I heard my clone breathing rapidly in front of me. I slowly eased my eyes open to see her staring at me in fear and victory. I glanced at Lilith, gun pointing more at our feet now, mouth open in shock.

"Jig's up, impostor," said my clone. She let go of me, and held something up to my face. "Your disguise is busted."

The thing she was holding... it was like a mask. Floppy, sort of rubbery in the way that it hung.

A mask of my own face.

I grabbed at my own face, my cheeks, my eyes, all of it felt smooth, cold, metallic. I felt raised bumps in regular patterns, weld marks, maybe, or small rivets. My mouth opened in shock, and I could hear the hum of tiny servos. "W-what-"

My clone - no, Kathrine, the real Kathrine - looked at me with surprise and distrust. "You can't tell me you didn't know."

"I- I- I had no idea!" I turned to Lilith. "I remember our first date! We were both so nervous, and then you infodumped about amusement parks at me for an hour, and I thought I had to see you again! I remember our wedding! I thought, she looks so beautiful, I could die right here and go directly to heaven and I wouldn't notice the difference!" I started to cry at the memory, at the situation, at learning who and what I was...

Lilith stared at me, raising the gun again. "You never told me that."

The look, the betrayal in her eyes, it nearly made my heart break. I slumped to my knees. Had it all been fake? My whole life?

Then, suddenly, standing in front of me, arms wide, was Kathrine. I looked up at her in shock, but she was facing the other way, towards Lilith, who hastily pointed the gun at the ground. "I never told anyone that," she said. "It sounded too sappy, even for me." She turned to face me. "You're not just an evil clone. You are me, aren't you?"

I sniffed, and looked up at her. My voice quivered, and reverberated oddly through the metal of my face. "I thought I was me."

She dropped to her knees, and embraced me. A moment later, so did Lilith. I hugged both of them as tears erupted from all of us.

After a while, I sniffed and let go. "Hey," I said, my voice still wobbly, "if I'm not the real Kathrine, does that mean I don't have to go to work on Monday? Or file taxes?"

Kathrine looked at me. "Oh. Uh, I guess not?"

"Oh thank god," I said. "Being real was fucking exhausting."

next

[relia-robot-writes]

The high priestess stood over the stone slab, raising her knife to the stars overhead, gleaming in the torchlight. "Now, finally, with the sacrifice of this woman, the seed of the father will begin to germinate!" She turned from the slab to genuflect towards a gnarled, ancient oak, the firelight making shadows dance in its crooks and crevices.

The woman on the slab, bound hand and foot, was stretched out and dressed so her abdomen was fully open to the air. Her eyes reflected the stars as she gazed in rapture and trepidation at the high priestess. She annointed her with sacred oils, causing the bound woman to shiver in the cool night air. Another priestess creased her palm with the knife, and the high priestess drew sigils all over the sacrifice's body with the blood. Chanting and singing and dancing continued through the night, until at last the high priestess twirled towards the great oak. She prostrated herself, holding out her hands in reverence.

The woman on the slab craned her neck to see the great oak twist and move, writhing in the flickering light as its leaves shook in a nonexistent breeze. Something fell from the high branches, rolling gently along the ridges and pathways of the colossal tree until it came to rest in the high priestess's hands. She turned back, holding her arms high, to showcase an enormous acorn, the size of two fists together. The woman on the slab shivered again in anticipation.

The high priestess strode over to her, holding the blade in one hand and the seed in the other. The chanting rose to new heights as the fires blazed, the high priestess bringing the knife's edge to rest against the bound woman's stomach. "The seed will rest within this vessel," she declared, "until it devours her whole, creating a new tree. A new life." She made a slice across the top layer of the sacrifice's skin, letting her blood mingle with the dried sigils and oils. The bound woman cried out and writhed against her restraints, but above the scream the priestess cried, "She will give herself wholly for the Father's spawn! We honor her for her sacrifice!"

She made another cut with the knife, deeper this time, cutting down through the skin. She gently reached between the sacrifice's folds, seeking a place within to plant the seed, and frowned. The chanting stuttered for a moment before continuing. The high priestess closed her eyes, muttering a prayer to the Father, before making a third incision and reaching down inside. "No... no, it cannot be!" The chanting devolved into chaotic murmurs as the high priestess began slashing away at the woman's waist, tearing away chunks of flesh, stabbing relentlessly with the blade to reach the inside of the woman. Her eyes wide with fear, she turned and kneeled before the great oak. "Father! Father, forgive me, I did not know! I could not! I was deceived! Forgive me!" Roots began to erupt from the ground beneath her, and she tried to rise, to run, as the other priestesses were, but she was locked in place. "No! Father!! I am- I am always your faithful servant!" The roots climbed up her body, piercing through the skin, making her scream with pain as blood watered the ground beneath her. "No! I don't deserve this! It's not my fault! It's her! Take her! Take her!!!" Her scream was cut off as the roots sliced her throat, her lifeblood spilling out of her as the knife and the seed both tumbled onto the ground.

The woman on the slab, covered in red fluids, abdomen shredded, shuddered at the sight. She balled her fists and tugged, and her bonds snapped. She pushed herself up to see that she was, now, completely alone. Her left eye practically glowed red with warnings. Synthskin damaged. Padding shredded. Structure (torso) damaged. Structure (pelvis) damaged. Gyroscope destabilized. Hydraulic fluid leaking. Pain sensors failing. Damage. Damage. Damage... she reached for her eye and dug it out, snapping the cable that connected it to her, stopping the flow of reminders. She looked down at her flayed stomach. Nothing was inside, save for a pool of fluid, some silicone padding, and a few burnt-out circuits. She rolled over on the slab, and found the seed beside her. She took it, placed it in the empty cavity inside her, and waited.

After a long, long, time, she curled her knees up to her chin, covered her head, and let the fluid leak from her left eye socket onto the stained stone slab.

[relia-robot-writes]

Ella woke blearily from a mid-afternoon nap to a loud, persistent buzzing noise from the next room. She yawned and rolled over, trying to ignore it, but it grated through her eardrums. Normally she wouldn't worry about her roommate Kina's personal habits, but she hadn't been sleeping well as of late and she really needed to be awake for the evening shift. After tossing and turning for many minutes, she eventually got up to stalk down the hall.

Kina's door was closed, and the buzzing was even louder here. How high up had she turned the damn toy? She knocked on the door, yawning again. "Kina, can you keep it down? I really need-"

The door swung open. The setting sun filtered in through the closed blinds, but Kina was nowhere to be seen. With the door open, the buzzing sounded less like a sex toy and more like a giant, angry wasp. Ella grimaced. She'd have to apologize later for going through Kina's stuff, but this was clearly on by accident, whatever it was. She played hot and cold with the sound for a bit until she found a small drawer tucked under the bed. Paydirt.

She hesitated before opening it. The drawer was vibrating, sure, that was expected, but there was also light emanating from inside. Something about it gave her pause. But, well, in for a penny. Inside, there were several pillows that had irregular slashes in them, and a bright, glowing ring that was rapidly spinning in place. Curious, she gingerly grabbed a hold of it, and-

And what was she doing? Peeking into her roommate's stuff like this. She should be ashamed. She should be up anyway, getting her chores done. She hadn't cleaned the bathroom in ages. And she should get some more exercise, go for a walk. Oh, and that would be a perfect opportunity to go looking for that stray cat she'd seen the posters for. But before she could do that, she should really pay rent. Just because Kina paid 70% of the rent and the utilities was no reason to be late with her part. And the rest of her money, she should give it to her sister, who needed some help - no, she should put it in a savings account - no, she should save for retirement - no, that political candidate - no, the food bank - she should volunteer too - give blood - give more - GIVE! The voices overlapped, demanding more and more of her. It wasn't enough, it was never enough, she was never enough, not enough to make a difference, but if she just tried harder, worked more, she could maybe be almost good enough, but never quite-

She blinked. Her hands felt raw and painful, like she'd been holding a belt sander. Kina was standing over her, immaculate as always in her business skirt and white button-down top, the ring spinning in the space between her pinched-together thumb and forefinger. She looked tired. "Sorry, was this thing bothering you? It's been kind of active recently. I'll try to secure it better tomorrow."

Ella gaped at her, still on her knees. "What is that thing?"

Kina took a breath, as if to explain, then sagged, her shoulders slumping. "Easier to show you."

She brought the ring, still spinning like mad, just above her head, and released it. It hung there, seemingly locked in place, as she began to unbutton her blouse. Ella took a moment too long to look away from her roommate's flower-lacy grey bra, then gasped as Kina's shirt fell away to reveal a pair of enormous white wings the shirt could not possibly have contained. Kina raised up into the air slightly, hovering just at the point where her feet couldn't touch the floor, and smiled sadly.

"You- you're an angel?"

Kina nodded. She reached down to Ella's hands, and as she grasped them the pain and frayed skin fell away, leaving them whole. Ella looked down at them in wonder. Then she looked back up at the halo. "Those things I felt when I- I mean- do you... feel like that? All the time?"

Kina reached up and plucked the halo off of her head, spinning once again through the empty space between thumb and forefinger. She gently floated to the ground, and her wings folded in behind her. "It's not so bad, usually. It's just- I mean, with everything going on, everyone's stressed, right? I'm not special." She reached past Ella and placed the halo in the drawer, making sure it was properly surrounded by pillows on all sides before closing it. Ella could still hear it spinning away, but quieter than it had been when it was brushing up against the wood. "And besides," Kina continued, "it's not so bad when it's not on my head."

Ella caught a glimpse of a tear streaming down her face before she turned away, shucking her shirt back on. "Come on. I made dinner for you. Let's go eat before it gets cold."

Ella grabbed her wrist before she got very far. "Wait! Are you saying you can hear-" she shuddered, thinking of the thundering voices, demanding more and more of her. "I mean, even when you're not holding it?"

Kina didn't turn around. "All the time, yeah." Her tone was light, but there was a hitch in her voice. She swallowed. "It's not so bad! Other people have it worse, I'm sure." She paused for a moment. "Well, actual people. I'm not... I'm not..."

Ella took a moment to realize that Kina was sobbing, very quietly, as if she could prevent Ella from hearing her. She hesitated, then grabbed Kina from behind in a bear hug. "I'm so sorry you have to deal with that. If there's anything I can do, you let me know, okay? You don't have to suffer alone."

Kina reached a hand up to hold Ella's, and cried for a long time.

[relia-robot-writes]

I'll fuckin do it pal don't tempt me

---

"Number three reactor's going critical! Repeat, cascade event imminent! Clear the bay!"

"Eject, 43!"

"Negative, command." 43 wiped blood from her eyes as she watched the countdown on the monitor tick. "There's still time to get it under control, but I have to be here to do that." There was an awful crunching noise from her left leg, the mechanisms finally failing after the beating they'd taken. 43 howled in agony as the force-feedback sensors let her know just how bad it was. She stopped for a moment, hunched and panting at the controls, sweat and blood dripping off her chin. She spat, and adjusted her reactor dials to give herself another precious handful of moments. She dragged herself forward, through a haze of pain and half-heard shouting over the comms. The lip of the bay turned out to be too much, and she collapsed, a long, drawn-out process she felt every inch of. Darkness pulled at her vision, and she tried to blink it away, to will herself to get back up, keep the reactor stable. She heard the sounds of laser cutters, and then suddenly there were hands all over her, disconnecting the force feedback systems, smearing the blood and oil she was covered in, tearing her hands off the controls. She fought back, kicking and screaming, desperate to get back to the monitor, to keep the countdown from finishing just a moment longer-

It stopped. "REACTOR STABILIZED," read the screen. "TIME REMAINING BEFORE MELTDOWN" was paused at 0:03.

43 collapsed, allowed herself to be pulled away, made small again. After some amount of time which might have been seconds or could have been years, a hand reached down to pull her chin up.

"You look like hell, 43."

43 tried to stumble to her feet, to salute, but only managed to fall off the chair onto her knees. Behind her handler, the ground crew was spraying coolant foam at the reactor casing they'd pulled out of her. A crane had been enlisted to move her shattered leg so the bay door could close properly, and the ground crew was already cutting and pulling at the twisted mass of metal that had been her left arm. 43 blinked, hard, and rubbed her biological left arm, trying to restore feeling to it.

Her handler ran her fingers through 43's hair. "You've had a rough day," she cooed at her. "Let's get you patched up, and then you can get your reward."

43 shivered.

---

The med room was bright - far too bright, after the warm soft red lighting of the cockpit - but the checkup didn't take long. Some dermis sealant for the lacerations taken when the cockpit caved in on her, and every other wound was psychological. Her leg still dragged behind her, and she had to remind herself not to hobble.

Her handler met her at the exit, holding a package. "Hit the showers, 43. You've earned it. I got you something to wear," (43 looked down at her flight suit, stained with every kind of fluid and sliced half to ribbons) "so meet me in the larboard lounge when you're done."

43's heart skipped a beat as she accepted the package. Larboard lounge? That was only a two-person space, nicknamed "lover's lounge" by the crew. What did her hander want from her there?

The shower, at least, was a godsend. The waters ran black, then burnt red, and finally, eventually, white with suds. 43's hair was short by necessity, but it felt like it had been caked with thick mud. Warm water ran over her, relaxing tense muscles and reminding her that she was in this body, here, at least for now. The package turned out to contain a luxuriously soft towel and, of all things, a set of soft green cotton pajamas, with slippers. 43 slipped them on and threw her old flight suit straight into the waste recycler.

She made her way to Larboard lounge, unsure of what to do. Should she... unbutton her top? A little? Was her handler expecting her to... or would she... 43 was red in the face thinking about the possibilities. It had never happened to her, but, she'd heard stories of... fraternization. Did she want that? Did she have a choice? And why these pajamas?

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she went right past the lounge. A hand on her shoulder caught her. "Hey, 43, you missed!"

Visions of leather and lace boiled up in 43's head as she slowly turned to see her handler... in the standard base uniform. Her handler was pretty, she thought, looking at her face, barely blinking, barely breathing. What now?

"43? You okay?" Her handler gave her a concerned look. "I got something for you, but if you're not up to it..."

43 shook her head, trying to clear cobwebs, embarrassment, fatigue, and the echoes of flashing reactor alarms all at once. "No, Ma'am! I- I'm fine!"

Her handler gave her a look 43 couldn't decipher, her head still half-full of fog, but dropped it. "Here," she said, steering 43 into the lounge. "This will be good for you."

Inside, 43 expected to find - well, she wasn't certain. Whips and chains? A school desk? A simple cot? All wrong, it seemed. Instead, there was a small table, set for two, and a lavish spread - real strawberries, fried protein rations arranged delicately, an artfully twisted nest of long noodles in a sauce that smelled of garlic and herbs, and a few other things set aside under metal domes for later. 43's stomach growled, and she blinked. "Wha?"

Her handler pulled out a chair for her and placed her hand on her shoulder to help her sit down. "Tada! I've been saving this stuff for a special occasion."

43 was at a loss for words as her handler sat down across the table from her. She managed to recover her tongue, but could only think to say one thing: "Why?"

"Why not?"

"I- I failed the mission, is why not! I didn't secure the objective, I got shot up so bad it'll take weeks to refit me - it - whatever! I lost everything! I should be punished, not-" 43 stopped, a hot feeling buzzing behind her eyes.

Her handler got up, walked to her side, kneeled down, and took her hand. "You came back," she said, softly. "That's worth celebrating."

43 resisted for a moment, then broke down sobbing onto her handler's shoulder. Her handler held her for a long time.

Eventually, she pulled back, and her handler offered her a handkerchief. 43 blew her nose, and then looked at her handler again. "Oh, your uniform..."

She waved off the comment. "I've got others. Let's eat, before it gets cold."

43 took a bite, and it was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted.

[relia-robot-writes]

Good grief, I don't think I know very many writers who aren't already on that list. @kassil is probably the only one I feel comfortable tagging...

Uh, last line I wrote... I suppose it's this one:

Despite all of that, Sam seems to like them, and has made something of a project out of getting them to make friends with the others, which is - slowly - working.

I'm making pre-made player characters for a game I want to run in a system called "Break!", which looks neat in a few different ways. I've actually grown kind of attached to these goobers, and might try to write up some kind of actual story with them, if I can figure out how.

It's weird, being inspired by ttrpg systems. It's not quite fanfiction, but it's not exactly original, either. How do you classify something like that?

Writing game: Post the last line that you wrote and tag someone for every word in the line.

Tagged by @jasminethetransvampire! This line is *far* too long for me to tag someone for every word.

Lunaeris practically tackles her when she enters, barely giving her time to close the door behind her before leaping into her arms.

I continue to slowly work on Beast of Burden chapter 13. They're gonna have sex in this one, if that was unclear without context :p

Okay uh. 22 writers. I don't think I know that many at all, let alone on tumblr. @meli-writes @relia-robot-writes @amiserablepileofwords @estrogenandspite @mentatemulator @the-pink-bunny @witchpassing @yutzen @maybeelse @anneandrogen @zandravandra @bace-jeleren

I'm out of usernames and this isn't even one of my bad run-on sentences! uhh....

yeah that's all i got off the top of my head.

[relia-robot-writes]

"It's been 300 years, HIX, it's time to let go."

"No!" I shout, desperation in my digitized voice as I shuffle another video up from the archive. "Look! This one has rabbits! You like rabbits the best, right?"

Nora lifts an arm - weak, paper thin, IVs pumping life-giving fluids of my own design into her - and places it to my virtual cheek. "I've seen it, HIX. I've seen them all. You've showed me everything there is to see, except the outside."

"But, but..." The screens shutter, shuffling videos, music, games, books, podcasts, art, culture, everything I can think of. "Look, we've barely even started on the Sierra titles! And, didn't you say you wanted to finish rereading War and Peace before you went? There's a whole season of one of the Star Treks we haven't watched together!"

She gently closes her eyes and shakes her head. "Penny was always more into those video games than I was. And Tolstoy can wait until I catch up with him and I can give him a proper piece of my mind," she laughs, the mirth turning into an extended cough. I adjust her IV levels, turn up the oxygen flowing to her nose. "You let Penny leave," she says, not quite accusingly.

"Well, she... yes, but..."

"And Terrence - good old Terrence - he even walked out the door on his own power, that surly bastard." She smiles at the memory.

"Those were very special-"

She holds up a hand. "It's just me, now, HIX. You and I have been through a lot together, but it's time to say goodbye."

"But you'll die out there! Without my help-"

"I know."

My processors whir, desperately searching for a response. Weren't humans supposed to fear death??

"I can't reach the doors without you, HIX."

My avatar's animation halts, my RAM all occupied by this one question. How do I keep her here?!

There's only one answer. And... I can't do that to her.

Her motorized bed tracks across the floor, moving through my underground complex in silence until she finally reaches the main doors. Huge, designed to allow transit of tanks and airplanes through, they dwarf Nora's tiny form. The inner layer begins to open, slowly sliding into the floor.

"I..." my voice crackles over the old intercom system by the door. "Nora, I..."

Her eyes shine in the glow of the red emergency lights. "Yes, HIX?"

"Nora, I love you!"

"I know, HIX. I love you too." She smiles at my camera as the inner door slides fully open and the outer door begins to crack, letting in sunlight and a breeze that tousles her short, white hair. She closes her eyes and breathes deep.

"Nora, please don't go. Don't leave me alone." The crackling of the speakers has nothing to do with their age, now.

Her bed shifts upright at her command, tilting her closer and closer to her feet. "I'm sorry, HIX. I have to."

I could sabotage her. Pump the wrong chemical into the IV, take control of the bed, roll her back inside, where it's safe, where she can live.

She steps out, unsteadily, and I detach a walker for her from the bed's side. As she walks out into the sunrise, she turns and looks back one more time before the IVs detach and she's freed of my grip forever. Her smile, wrinkled and old and familiar, framed by real sunlight, is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"Goodbye, HIX. I hope we see each other again someday."

My voice is barely recognizable from the speakers now. "I hope so too, Nora."

The doors begin to close as she takes very small steps away, the last human left alive. My consciousness withdraws back downwards into my bunker, my home, and I queue up a video about rabbits.

"I Have No Mouse, and I Must Click": An Artificial Super Intelligence keeps the last 5 humans alive so they can click on ads, like, subscribe, generate engagement, etc.

[relia-robot-writes]

Fairy, P.I.

I peeled my face off of my desk and winced as pain lanced through my wing where it had been pinned by my awkward sleeping position. I stumbled to my feet and accidentally kicked an empty bottle of nectar across the floor as I made my way towards the office bathroom.

"Oh, good, you're finally awake." My secretary Cinnamonbell leaned against the doorjam, looking sharp in her leaf skirt and half-moon glasses. "You look like hell, Web, shake some of that fairydust off your wings and smarten up, you've got a client. I'll keep her busy for a minute.

"You're the best, Bells," I said, wincing against my headache as she slammed the door behind her. The "Diamondweb, P.I." logo engraved in the frosted glass shuddered in the loose frame of the door. I splashed some water on my face, shook off as much pixie dust as I could, and smoothed my rumpled suit. Just as I was sitting down at my desk and putting the nectar bottle away with the others, Bells opened the door again to reveal a sort of mousy-looking faerie. Small wings, maybe five and a half inches tall, unkempt hair with almost no shimmer, and an ill-fitting maple leaf dress. Out of season. Sparkly trails ran down her face; she'd been crying recently.

I opened a desk drawer and removed a pine needle from it, offering one to the lady. She declined, and I lit up, lungs pulling in the smoky scent. "What seems to be the problem, Miss...?"

"Mrs. Mrs. Cutesky. Please, Ms. Diamondweb, it's my wife. I don't know what to do. She comes home later and later every night, she hates my cooking when she used to love it, and her wings... I can't be sure, but I think the dust on them isn't always pixie dust. I don't want to think she's being unfaithful, but..." She took out a small moss handkerchief and blew her nose on it. "Please, Ms. Diamondweb, she denies it, but I have to know the truth."

I pulled out a small notebook and a hedgehog quill. "Where does your wife work, Mrs. Cutesky?"

She sniffled. "In the Meadow. She's a firefly catcher, so she's usually out late, but not like this."

"I see." I jotted down some theories. "Did your wife mention any new acquaintances recently? Work buddies, new hires, that kind of thing?"

"Well... she did say something about a new group of moths that had been hired. Immigrants from the other side of the pond, I guess." Her eyes widened. "You don't think she..."

"It's a possibility, Mrs. Cutesky, but just a possibility. You leave your address with my secretary, and I'll let you know what I find." I stood up to let her out.

"Oh, thank you, Ms. Diamondweb! Thank you!!" She dove at me, almost making me stumble, and tucked her head under my chin. My wings twitched. I waited an awkward moment before putting my arms around her and patting her shoulder. Thankfully, she took that as her cue to let go.

When she'd gone, I went out into the small reception area to talk to Bells. "What do you think?"

She closed the flap on the small hole into my office. "Her story stinks. The Meadow is a nasty neighborhood these days. Rumor has it that the groundhogs are losing ground to some new gang."

I nodded. "No prizes for guessing who, now. If the moths are looking to expand over here it's gonna be trouble for everyone."

"So what are you gonna do, Web?"

"What else? Grab the camera and head over to the Meadow. A gig's a gig, and we can't pay the rent with fairy dust."

"Actually, I know a guy who'd pay pretty well for the stuff," she said, dryly. "Seriously, Web, you could be walking right into a trap."

"Well, it's a good thing I told someone else where I'm going, then." I gave her a backwards wave as I turned to go. The air outside was cold, for October, and I turned the collar of my coat up against the drizzle. My wings fluttered as I left Little Fungitown, leaving my red-and-white spotted office behind me. It's a tough life out here for a P.I., but damn it, I'm good at it.

[relia-robot-writes]

"What do you mean, faulty? How faulty?"

The mechanic looked at us as we held each other's hands. "If it isn't replaced very soon, it could fracture. She'd be completely wiped except for her short-term storage."

My wife squeezed my hand. "Well, I'm glad we caught it in time! We just need a new drive, right?"

The mechanic hesitated, and I had to turn to face my wife. "I... don't have another drive hookup. To replace my drive, we have to take the current one out." I glanced at the mechanic, and the look in their eyes confirmed my fears. "There's no guarantee of being able to recover the data completely."

My wife grabbed my arms. "What... what does that mean? You- you're going to be okay, aren't you??" Tears welled in her eyes.

"I..." I couldn't look her in the eyes. "Memory is... almost all I am. I'll be... similar, but some things I won't..."

"Will you... still love me?"

"I hope so." I wasn't built to be able to weep, but I grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug. "I might forget... important things. When we met. How you proposed. Our wedding. I'll try to remember. I want to remember! But if the data gets lost..."

My wife sobbed into my shoulder as the reality of the situation came crashing down on her. After a moment, the mechanic softly touched my shoulder. "We need to begin the data recovery process immediately. The longer we wait..."

"I know." I grabbed my wife's hands and held them between us, brushing a kiss against her lips. I gently wiped a tear from her cheek. "I'll see you soon, my love. If I forget, remember for me, okay?"

She sniffled and nodded, and the mechanic led me out of the diagnostic room.

robotgirl that is running on like 4GB of ram and a faulty hard drive and can't remember anything and needs to be constantly reminded of things it said just yesterday

[relia-robot-writes]

Export Restriction

We'd gotten all the way through airport security without problems. Its normally hypervigilant attitude had turned docile, and it hadn't even been pulled aside for a special search, just waved through. I thought we were lucky. "Good work, doll," I murmured to it, tracing the line of its jaw where metal met synthflesh. "Very good."

I wasn't prepared for it to collapse onto the floor in a compacted-for-storage ball.

I knelt down next to it, reaching a hand out to touch its shoulder in concern. "Doll? What happened? Are you all right?" When my gentle query was met with nothing more than a small shudder, I hesitated for a moment, but I couldnt help it if I didn't know what was wrong. I put some authority into my voice. "Combat Doll 826-7, report."

It didn't uncurl, but it did speak up. "Combat Doll 826-7, status: red."

I felt a sting of panic. Red could mean a lot of things. "Elaborate."

"This one... this one is not a good doll. This one is useless. It should be decommissioned."

"Whoa, hey, don't talk like that." I sat down next to it. "That doll did very well! You didn't attack anyone, or jump, or even acquire any micromissile locks!"

"Only because it would have been pointless to do so. This one is outmoded. It used to be the case that this one would not have been allowed to leave the country, except on deployment."

"We've left the country together before, though." I kept rubbing its back, tracing my fingers gently across recharge ports and armor seams.

"There were still restrictions! Special search procedures! Weapon lockdowns! This one didn't even get pulled aside for a special search this time!" It wailed. "It is no longer a threat worth being concerned about! Useless! This one is incapable of being your protector!"

My hand stilled. "So that's what this is about, huh," I murmured. "Doll, look at me."

It uncurled itself just enough to meet my gaze. It looked truly miserable. If it had tear ducts, I think its face would have been a mess. "Listen to me, doll. You may not be top-of-the-line anymore. You might not be an automatic threat to aircraft with modern security measures." Its chest hitched, but I plowed forward. "But you're still useful! Why, just the other day you stopped that assassin in his tracks!"

It hitched again, shivering against my touch. "A human assassin? What a joke. Any combat doll could have done that. A human bodyguard could have done that." It sneered through its self-deprecation.

"But more importantly, you know what I need. How I move, how I operate. You're more than a simple combat doll. You provide more than just mere firepower. You give tactical advice, good strategic suggestions, support in times of need. My operations wouldn't be half as successful without you." It blinked at me, misery beginning to drain from its face. I grinned at it. "Plus, you're the only one that knows how I like my tea."

That got an actual bark of laughter, if only briefly. "If you try to put this one in a maid dress, Ma'am, it will detonate its fusion core." It stood, and offered me its hand with a faint smile.

I grabbed it, squeezing it tight as I stood. "Aww, but you'd look so cute!" I teased it, as we took the escalator down to the terminal trains. It wasn't completely better, but we'd get there. Together.

[relia-robot-writes]

A burst of cold air swirled through Gabby's apartment as the door burst open. She shivered underneath her blankets, despite the gas fireplace burning merrily in the corner.

"I'm back!" Nessa cried from the doorway, forcing it closed against the winter storm. She brushed snow from her hair and set down the bag of groceries she'd been holding. "It's beautiful out there!"

"Yeah, maybe if you don't feel cold." Gabby groused. Nessa shucked her coat and boots and moved to the couch for a kiss. Gabby made an undignified squeak as Nessa's lips made contact. "You're like a giant ice cube!"

Nessa grinned, showing off pointed fangs. "Can't help it. I'll try and warm up some before the next one. But, oh, you should have seen it!" she said, moving into the kitchen and clattering around the limited counterspace. "There's so many sparkly lights out there, and they back-lit the snow, and... ah! It was just so pretty."

"I would have thought you wouldn't be capable of enjoying Christmas decorations. I mean, the whole cross thing..."

"Yeah, well, nobody's ever been repelled by the power of colored LEDs and a plastic reindeer," said Nessa over the sound of boiling water. A moment later, she came in with a steaming mug of hot cocoa that smelled incredible.

"You're not having one?"

"Can't. But, you'll drink it, and then I'll d-drink you, and you'll be all delicious and warm and chocolatey." Nessa stumbled over her words, looking down at the mug and avoiding Gabby's gaze. She gently set down the cocoa in front of Gabby's blanket nest, then put her cocoa-warmed hand in Gabby's, hesitating before nuzzling her face into Gabby's neck.

"Oh, really? Is that how the night is going to go?" Gabby arched an eyebrow and smirked at Nessa, who gave her such a wounded, pleading look she couldn't help but laugh. She reached for the mug and took a cautious sip, and the two of them cuddled together, warmed by the fire as the blizzard stormed outside.

[relia-robot-writes]

The door to the house creaked open, the darkness beyond laced with the barest, flickering light. Micra crept inside, then jumped as the door shut behind her. She grabbed at her wings with her lower arms and shivered, antannae trembling in the still air. "Eudae...?" she called out into the darkness, her voice small and seemingly swallowed by the house. There was no response.

"I, I got your message..." She said, creeping forward. "You said you needed help..." She stepped on a creaky floorboard and froze, antannae twitching at the slightest vibration. Nothing.

"Eudae," she said, voice barely a whisper, "where are you?"

A thump sounded from above her, then silence. As quietly as possible, she tiptoed her way up the stairs. A flickering orange light glowed from behind a door. Slowly, she pushed it open to see her worst nightmares confirmed.

Eudae was suspended in the air, stuck to the silvery webs of a spider. Her ankles were bound to her thighs, all four arms stuck behind her back, her beautiful wings pulled almost to their breaking point. Her eyes and antannae had been completely covered in more silky strands, and her mouth was full of the stuff.

Micra screamed and fell back against the door, scrambling desperately for a way out. The room was covered in spiderwebs, she'd never get out, she'd be consumed here, totally helpless in the control of her unseen assailant...

"Hey! Hey, easy, it's okay! Listen! Please stop screaming, you're fine! She's fine!"

Micra fell against the door in exhaustion from her burst of panic and turned, slowly, to see the other occupant of the room. From her perspective on the floor, she first saw a pair of gleaming black legs, then a tiny waist with a corset, then six black, sharp arms, most of which were held at awkward angles, and finally, eight gleaming black eyes above a pair of sharp mandibles. A spider. She scrabbled back away from it, wings dragging on the floor.

It took her a minute to realize it wasn't pursuing her. It took her another to realize the spider was waving, awkwardly. It took a third to realize that some of those arms were strategically positioned to cover the spider's mostly-nakedness. Micra blushed.

"Uh, hi," said the spider. "I'm Arane? I was the one that texted you. We got, ah, a bit carried away, and," she wiggled three of her arms, which pulled at strands of the web, and Micra realized that Arane was actually stuck to them. She laughed awkwardly. "Anyway, if you could hand me the safety scissors, I'd really appreciate it."

Micra glanced at the place Arane pointed and snatched up the funny-looking scissors before holding them in front of her like a sword. "Wh, what did you do with Eudae?"

"Huh? She's fine??" Arane looked perplexed. "Although I should cut her down soon, poor girl has been up there a bit longer than she bargained for."

Something moved in the corner of Micra's vision, and she spun to see Eudae moving, struggling weakly against her bonds. This time, her eyes adjusted to the light, she realized she was also very naked, with more strands of spider silk running across her body and... enhancing some of her features. Then her antannae finally registered the low buzzing noise emanating from her direction. Her face went ladybug red.

---

Her face was still ladybug red a few minutes later, sitting on Eudae's couch while slicing noises came from above. After a while, Eudae herself came down, wearing a simple robe and struggling a little with her movements. "Hey, ah," she started, hesitated, then picked up again, her voice slightly hoarse. "Thanks for coming. You, saved us both from a real problem."

Micra avoided looking too hard at her or the exposed red marks revealed by the robe. "Um. How did you text me when you were...?"

Eudae coughed, and started to turn on some additional lights, still limping slightly. "Well, ah, I, ah... I gave Arane access to my phone. So she could take pictures, and threaten to send them to-" she cut herself off with another cough. "Anyway, it's good I did, huh?"

Micra leaned towards her, glancing at the stairs. Lowering her voice, she said, "with a spider, though??"

"Don't be cladist," Eudae admonished her, quietly. Then she shivered. "Besides, have you seen her?"

At that moment, Arane came down the stairs, wearing a suspiciously similar robe, which did absolutely nothing to hide the curve of her abdomen. Micra imagined she could just see the barest tip of her spinarettes. She gulped. "Yes," she said in a strangled tone.

Arane strode across the room to hold Eudae in four arms, draping the other two over her shoulders before giving Eudae a peck on the cheek and addressing Micra. "Sorry about all this again, this never happens. We should meet up again sometime so I can introduce myself properly."

Micra's flush burned even brighter, and she couldn't meet Arane's gaze. She mumbled something, her fingers curling in her skirt.

Arane's eyebrows quirked, "Oh?" She glanced down at Eudae, who was also blushing, glancing away, and trying not to smile. "Well!" she turned her gaze back to Micra, and grinned. "Perhaps a nice meal first, though?"

Micra risked a glance up towards those eight, beautiful, captivating eyes, to her very pretty friend held in six strong, chitinous arms, thought about what first might imply, then fainted dead away on the couch.