#Cedar Silverbeam

[introspective-oc-aes]

CONTINGENCY CODE: BOTTLED LIGHTNING

IMPORTANT TIP: NEVER ENGAGE A BRAND-BEARER ALONE! ASK AN ENFORCER FOR HELP!

[autumnalhalcyon]

rise and grind, comrades

Maple Sunbrand, Cedar Silverbeam and Ace Batchburg respectively for anyone who wants to know

[autumnalhalcyon]

Finally tracked it down shfdg

Draw your characters like this

[prcject-utcpia]

Cedar hits send on their latest text to their "Brand bud".

"Can we meet up? I've got some questions about the city, and I'd rather get the info from someone I can trust."

The past few days had gone rather... predictably. Cedar had made headway. At least it seemed that way. The Moon-bearer had managed to track down and neutralize increasing numbers of the Kingpin's goons.

Each encounter kept pitting them against higher numbers and tighter escape windows as the authorities stayed on high alert, but the scent had begun to thin. The street filth had begun to wise up, and any leads provided by their tactical database were growing less and less accurate.

And so, the Moon-bearer one more needed to rely on help. Speaking of...

"Absolutely! I'll bring Aspen too. They're better with directions from the ground than me >_<" Comes the response.

Cedar snorts at the admission. Certainly the deer was welcome. The more info the Moon-bearer could gather the better, even if it wasn't directional info they needed.

Another text from the Sun-bearer is received: "we're going to the café this time, btw."

The address is linked.

"Ugh, fair enough," they mutter to themselves. In the very least they weren't digging into potentially classified information... at least, they assumed not...

The dragon sat up in their hotel bed. The third such arrangement since arriving. It helped keep interlopers off their back, and made it difficult to keep track of their whereabouts. Especially when being booked into multiple hotels at once, under different names, all on Bloodmoon Tactical's dime.

Cedar threw on their jacket, slipped on their shoes, and, with a weary sigh, steps out of the door to their suite.

"...A little out of the way, isn't it?"

Cedar stood out front of a cozy-looking building close to the edge of the city. The skylights on the sloped roof seemed to run half of the way across the top of the building. And that wasn't even to mention the immense windows.

"And that's why we opted to take the tram," Aspen chides, sticking their tongue out at the Moon-bearer. "Either way, just look at the place! It's gonna be fantastic!"

Silver eyes twitch as they read the foliage-covered sign: 'Sunstone Café'.

"Oh I'm looking, and I'm thinking I probably should've brought sunglasses..." Cedar retorts.

This draws a snort from Maple, who beckons their blue counterpart with a small wave.

"Oh don't worry, there's a lovely little corner away from the Big Bad Sun," the Sun-bearer teases, joining Aspen in their tongue display. "Plenty of shade for brooding dragons of the night."

Cedar rolls their eyes and moves to follow.

"I don't think anything about you could be considered big or bad," the Moon-bearer retorts.

When the trio steps inside, they emerge into a space filled to the brim with all manner of plantlife. Whether in pots, planters, and vases, all seemed to be thriving in such bright environs.

Maple, who had simply ignored Cedar's jab before, looks back to find their compatriot's eyes squinted to hell in the sunshine, face scrunched like they had soap in their eyes.

"...U-um." The Sun-bearer attempts to hide their grin with a hand. A gesture the other clearly notices, based on the flattening of their ears.

Aspen meanwhile, taps the bell at the front counter with a gentle chime, and within a few moments, an ancient, whithered old opossum woman shuffles out from the back. At the sight of the trio, she breaks into an immense grin.

"Aspen! Maple! It is so good to see you, my darlings~!" She effuses, prompting bashful grins from the pair. Maple scratches at their cheek while Aspen's tail flicks as they avoid the woman's gaze.

"And you have brought a new friend!" She notes enthusiastically. She adjusts the tiny glasses at the end of her nose. "...though clearly they are unaccustomed to the sun."

"...Great. Glad everyone's noticed," Cedar deadpans, making a visor over their eyes to see.

The short geriatric gives a jolly guffaw.

"Why of course, deary~! But do not fear, Granny has the perfect seat for you!" She pokes a gentle pointer finger at the young dragon's snout, and leads the trio to a darker corner of the shop, away from windows and surrounded by large leafy foliage.

"Now take a seat, dearie, and I will have Lark come and take your orders!" Granny procures a menu with her prehensile tail, and places it on the table.

As she begins to hobble away, Cedar's face softens at the geriatric marsupial's demeanor. The corner of their mouth threatens to tug into a smile.

At least. Until they turn around and lay eyes upon their counterpart and the deer simultaneously making motions with their arms toward the table.

"Sit, siiiiiiit~" the pair gesticulate mischievously. The Moon-bearer squints at the strange, almost ritualistic display.

"...The hells are you two buffoons doing?" The blue dragon questions, a single pierced ear twitching in irritation. "Has your shared braincell finally shorted out?"

"It's your initiation~" Maple wobbles, their undulating arms waving faster.

"INITIATION!" Aspen echoes, following suit with the Sun-bearer.

The beast-dragon crosses their arms, brow twitching. If their goal was to get on Cedar's nerves, it was certainly working, even if they couldn't help but try to fight off a confused-yet-bemused grin in the process. Though... judging from the order of things, they had a feeling they knew who the ringleader of this clown show was...

A sky-blue blur whips out from behind Cedar, swiping at leg-height and taking Maple's legs out at the knees, sending the Sun-bearer crumpling to the ground in a heap. Aspen ceases their waving immediately, a cry of shock bursting from the deer's lungs as their friend is absolutely bodied.

The red dragon is back on their feet immediately however, hackles raised, and fists clenched.

"What's the big idea, jackass?!" Maple fires, fangs bared. "Here I was layin out the red carpet for ya and everything!!"

Not one to be outdone, Cedar's head is immediately butting against the Sun-bearer's, a wide grin betraying their mischief as the pair lock proverbial horns with each other.

"Really?! I could've sworn it was just the mold spores finally eating what's left of your puny brain, melonhead!" Cedar retorts, fur bristling with static.

"Frosted tips!" Maple shoots back, hair fluffing up with their raising temperature.

"Cocky showboater!"

"Static sourpuss!"

"Coronal egotist!"

A new voice suddenly rings out:

"ENOUGH!"

The bickering Brand-bearers are both whapped upside the head with a rolled up magazine, snapping the pair out of their row.

"No fighting in the café! Now you can either sit, or you can leave!"

Rubbing their heads from the paperback assault, gold and silver eyes look up to see their assailant - a chubby red panda in a sweater and beanie - crossing their arms, jaw set and eyes burning with righteous fury.

"It's alright, Lark!" Aspen chimes in, shooting their new friends a pointed death-stare. "They were just about to sit down and pick out their orders~!"

The deer's stiff smile suggested that if the red and blue dragons were to get themselves kicked out, that the gardener would simply be sipping tea and laughing at them from inside the shop.

The dragons both mutter brief apologies to their server, and slip into the deeply shaded table along with Aspen, with Cedar at the back of the table and the others at either side of them. Lark, seeing this, merely huffs, shoulders relaxing as the trio briefly scan the menu.

"Not to be basic-" Maple starts.

"Too late," Cedar interjects.

"NOT. TO BE. BASIC," the Sun-bearer repeats, enunciating each word slower this time and louder. "But I'm thinkin' of pumpkin spice. Iced, please."

Lark writes down the order, face already aging past their fluffy, red panda youthfulness.

"And you all?" Lark asks, pointing the magazine at the other pair.

"I think... hot chocolate will do for me," Aspen decides. "Thank you, Lark!"

A bemused noise escapes the server, and their face softens. They nod at the deer, before turning lastly to the dragon.

"...I think I'll have what Aspen's having," Cedar decides. The deer nods in approval, and Lark writes the order down.

"Alright," the server states, voluminous tail swaying gently behind them. "I will have the order out soon. Behave yourselves."

Lark steps away, their gaze lingering on the rambunctious dragons before stepping around the corner.

Maple side-eyes Aspen, arms crossed and tail slapping against their chair.

"...Why was I the only one kneecapped, Cedar?" The dragon questions after a moment.

"Thrown under the bus?!" Aspen exclaims, snagging a sugar cube from the bowl on the table, chucking it at the Sun-bearer in retaliation.

"GWEURGH?!" It gets caught in Maple's nostril, much to their shock and horror. Holding the other nostril, they blow through their nose, having the unintended effect of launching the sweetener like a cannon, straight into the side of Cedar's head.

Cedar, catches the nasal projectile, vaporizing it in their fist in a silvery flash of lightning.

"If you wanna take this outside so badly, you could just say so, you incandescent toad!"

"I wasn't trying to hit you, ya self-important knife juggler!"

"FOCUS, damnit!" Aspen forces, drawing the pair's attention. Lark, who had begun to peek around the corner, slooooowly slid back out of sight.

"You had questions, right Cedar?" The deer continues, prompting both dragons to visibly relax.

The Moon-bearer sighs, rubbing their temples.

"What do you both know about the history of Eclipse City?" Cedar starts, their silver gaze moving from Maple to Aspen and back again.

The latter two give each other a look, brows furrowing. Maple's jaw sets, Aspen's eyes scrunch. The red dragon nods at the deer.

"...There isn't a lot publicly available, but we can definitely explain what we can," Aspen starts, green eyes look over the Moon-bearer, seemingly gauging their reaction.

"Hey," Maple chimes, looking between the other dragon and the ungulate. "Either of y'all have a pad of paper? I'm gonna make a rough map to reference."

Aspen nods. "Good idea. I think I have a dinky little- here it is."

They manage to fish a small pad of lined sticky notes from their cargo pocket, sliding it over to the Sun-bearer.

"Thanks, Aspen. Please continue."

As Maple pulls a pen from their jacket pocket, their ungulate friend nods, turning back to the other Brand-bearer.

"...Anyway, so as far as records publicly show, Eclipse City was founded about two hundred years ago."

Cedar's face scrunches a bit, head tilting.

"...Exactly," Aspen seemingly confirms for the beast-dragon. "All records seem to stop at approximately 1924 PFR."

"Post First Razing..." Cedar muses. "But... the city's been around longer than that."

"Exactly," Aspen repeats emphatically. "And to be frank, I only know that much because of Maple."

"The closer you live to the mountains, the more outsiders you tend to meet, and the less people feel constrained by inner-city censorship," Maple clarifies, not taking their eyes from the scribbled map they were working on.

"Maple used to live in Column Ward, next to the Dozen Bet. There was a town there before-"

The dragon's scribbling stops, and golden eyes shoot Aspen a look.

"...before it burned down and was abandoned," the ungulate finishes, prompting Maple to silently continue their amateur cartography.

Cedar mentally notes the strange exchange, folding their fingers over each other.

"Everything available after that is relatively easy to find on Roulette, but to be quick, a lot of the population started out in Anchor and Boxcars Wards, but started spreading quickly toward the Dragon's Hand."

Maple's scribbling stops once more, turning the paper around and sliding it to the center of the table.

"We're here now..." A gilded claw taps a point in the most north-eastern area of the map, labeled as 'Sunstone Café'.

"Aspen and I took the bullet tram to get here from Anchor Ward, here..." their claw taps the secondmost western ward, where a bridge is depicted leading out to the furthest ward to the west.

"Yeah, I flew here. I could gather that much, what's your point?" Cedar questions, raising an eyebrow.

"Just trying to help illustrate the scope of expansion. Did you notice how much of Burn Ward was dedicated to renewable energy production?"

"...Yeah. The entirety of the Dime Line and Felt rivers' northern shores were littered with hydroelectric dams, not to mention the sheer volume of solar panels could constitute a desert..." Cedar muses, recalling the density of wind turbines, as well as the smattering of nuclear reactors dotting the landscape in addition to the other power sources they mentioned.

"Every single project there is under a decade old," Maple elaborates. "Batchburg Enterprises didn't start building visible power plants until Ace got put in charge."

"Up until 2114, the entirety of Burn Ward was practically undeveloped land, with the exception of a few ski resorts," Aspen expounds, giving a side eye to the scaled dragon.

Cedar's entwined fingers mesh and lock together, eyes closing in thought.

"...You're implying there's a conspiracy," the Moon-bearer states frankly.

"We've got a friend looking into specifics," Aspen confirms. "But what we've found so far connects some dots with older public records, all of which referencing an event locally known as the 'Razing War'."

"Y'know how Aspen said Eclipse City expanded from Anchor and Boxcar Wards?" Maple continues.

Cedar nods, brow furrowing.

"Me and them went digging through some old buildings looking for tunnels and bunkers," the scaled dragon recalls, before leaning forward conspiratorially. "We ended up finding a whole damn undercity."

Silver eyes widen.

"...An undercity? With Razing War tech?"

Aspen nods. "That, and some poor fired Batchburg intern set up a cloud server down there filled to the brim with ancient files."

"...They were using Brand-bearers as living-fuckin-batteries," Maple growls. Cedar winces at the very thought. "Ace seemed to think better on just how bad an idea that is after his pops got caught trying to set up a new one."

"...Caught? In what?"

The pair are quiet for a moment.

"...An explosion," the crimson dragon eventually decides.

"...So you both find an undercity," Cedar recaps, hands pantomiming their thought trail. "There's a poorly placed cloud server that you pulled data from, and you found evidence that our predecessors were being used as batteries to power the city..."

The pair nod along as the Moon-bearer collects their thoughts.

"...And... what. You think there's more to discover about the city's hidden past?"

"Aspen thinks there might even be Pre-Razing war records in there somewhere," Maple confirms. "Not much else to do about it but to wait for our guy to sort out trash from treasure."

Cedar exhales a breath they didn't even realize they were holding as their hands unclench. They flop back in their seat, tail swinging below them.

If this undercity had this many secrets hidden within... chances are, there could be ways around the two biggest wards that the assassin had never even considered. If they could find more ways in, not only could they move undetected by locals, it could very well be the break they were looking for in their search. It would certainly explain how Maple and Aspen had conveniently been in the exact location they had hunted those two gang thugs a few days prior...

But even moving beyond the undercity's implications for their mission, it held even graver ones for them and Maple especially... Was that why the Sun-bearer was so hesitant to discuss what they knew? Did they get attacked by someone trying to capture them?

It had to be the reason why they had been so relieved to find another Brand-bearer alive...

'Alive and free'.

Pieces were starting to click together... But ultimately, they were pieces that could wait until after their mission was complete.

For now, however, the sickly sweet scent of cocoa wafted forth from an approaching be-sweatered red panda, and it was calling their name.

[ next ==> ]

[prcject-utcpia]

"Ugh... the hell is blocking the road?" Maple groans, eyes fluttering open. "...We literally JUST got on the bus, too..."

Outside of the bus, traffic had ground to a complete halt. Ahead was a veritable crime scene, yellow caution tape and security vehicles now create a barrier, through which none can cross. Security officers mill about, taking questions from a pair of worse-for-wear street thugs - a woman and a feline - both of them in cuffs.

"...Come on, guys, we just want to-" Aspen's complaint trails off, green eyes widening. "...Maple. Holy shit, it looks like this place was a warzone..."

The dragon cranes their head to look out the windshield.

"...Gods above and below..." the Sun-bearer remarks, taking in the sight of scorches and gouges in the terrain. "...What happened here...?"

Just then, one of the security officials seem to catch Maple in their sights - at least, judging from the helmet staring them down - and wave for a second officer before walking toward their bus.

"...Fuck me gently with a chainsaw," the dragon swears, gritting their teeth. It's profilin' time.

The door opens, and a voice calls in.

"Maple Sunbrand, Citizen ID 01996777B, please exit the vehicle for questioning."

Aspen's brow furrows as the dragon shakily stands.

"Please don't go and get yourself arrested," the deer warns, prompting a smirk from their friend.

"Even in this state, they couldn't book me if they wanted to."

The officer speaks up again.

"Maple Sunbrand. Comply with our instructions, and step off of the bus."

The dragon snorts, and rolls their eyes as they step toward the doors to the bus.

"I heard ya the first time, ya power-tripping donut munchers!"

The officers step back as the grinning dragon steps off of the bus, tail swinging, hands in their pant pockets. One of the officers activates a device on their padded left bracer. From a hexagonal node sprouts a magenta riot shield.

Posturing little prick.

"So is there a reason you're draggin me out here?" Maple questions, side-eyeing the pair in front of them. "'Cause I just hauled ass up a monster fuckin' staircase and I'd really just like to go home."

The third officer on the scene, standing off and away from the pair harassing the Brand-bearer, seemed to tense up at the sound of their voice.

The officer with the riot shield scoffs, lifting a baton that lights up with a similarly magenta energy, pointing it at the dragon who doesn't even blink at the threatening gesture.

"We'll be asking the questions, Branded. You just answer 'em nice and calm-like."

Maple simply snorts at the bad-cop act.

"Now now, I'm sure you're perfectly willing to answer our questions, so don't worry about him," the other officer 'reassures' them.

"Yeah, sure. As funny as the 'good cop, bad cop' routine is, I'd rather get to the point anyway."

"Tch... noted."

Maple's tail swings behind them, golden eyes moving between the two in front of them. They've both tensed since their first encounter.

"Now, Mister-"

"Mx."

"-Sunbrand, IF that is your real name-"

"Real name, fake title."

"-SHUT UP." Bad cop's grip tightens around his baton, and they almost lift it. "Shut your FUCKING flame hole before I shut it for you!"

Good cop lifts an arm in front of bad cop, prompting the other pig to back off. Maple's smirk merely widens in response to the display.

"Wow, you are terrible at this," the dragon taunts, prompting a growl from bad cop.

"...Now, Mx Sunbrand," good cop continues, ignoring the provocation entirely. "Do you know why we called you out here?"

He gestures toward the dragon's scratched and battered current appearance. Maple merely looks down at themselves, then back up at the failed buddy cop duo in front of them.

"Not a clue, ossifer," they respond flippantly. "I just assumed y'all wanted to push someone around, and I just happened to win the raffle."

A sigh from good cop.

"...No. We called you out here, because your appearance matches the description of the assailant of these two fine citizens."

Maple raises an eyebrow.

"How so?"

"Well..." the officer hesitates a moment. "The victim testimony describes a dragon in a black jacket and jeans, and you look like-"

"Wasn't me," the Sun-bearer cuts. "And additionally, ya know there's gotta be at least a few thousand dragons living here in Eclipse City, right?"

Good cop seems to wince behind his visor. Bad cop grips his weapon tighter.

"We come in all different colors, too. Get something more concrete than 'uncommon people group in common-ass outfit' before draggin people off of busses."

They turn on their heels, before taking a step back toward the bus. Bad cop interposes his baton between them and the bus. The third officer jerks upright as Maple gives a menacing sneer out of the side of their face at bad cop.

"...You'd better fuckin' move that weapon, bacon grease," the dragon warns, the rising heat warping the air around them.

"You're not going nowhere, you incandescent freak," bad cop retorts.

"DO NOT ENGAGE THE BRANDED, SARGEANT! DO YOU HEAR ME?!" The third officer calls out from behind.

"You'd best listen to your betters, Officer Oink," Maple taunts, a dim glow radiating from their eyes. "I doubt you and your double-negatives have the high school reading level to take me on."

Bad cop, seemingly unable to hold back any longer, lets out a bellow, and swings at the dragon, who ducks down onto one foot, harmlessly out of the way.

"Oooh, seems I struck a nerve!"

They make a low, 360 spin, smacking bad cop's feet out from under him with a powerful swipe of their tail. The Brand-bearer bounces immediately back up and, before the cop can begin his descent, they snap their leg forward, unleashing a powerful kick into the ill-tempered man, sending him tumbling ass-over-tea-kettle across the asphalt.

Good cop, witnessing this, seems to decide he stands a better shot against a Brand-bearer who hasn't even started trying, and ignites the metal strips on his knuckles, lighting his fists up with magenta crackles of energy.

A right hook is deftly dodged by weaving left, then ducking beneath a left hook, and with a twirl, ducks a third punch, and following up with the pommel of a golden spear in good cop's gut. Maple then swings the spear, slamming into the officer and knocking him into the air and onto his back.

They take a step forward, spear over their shoulder, leering down at the twitching, pained duo.

"Looks like I just hit a grand slam~!" Maple quips, prompting bad cop to groan and attempt to sit up.

"That is enough, you two!" Officer three rushes forward, standing been the dragon and the world's worst comedy routine.

"They aren't the culprit. You had no reason nor imperative to attack the Sun-bearer," Pig three reprimands.

"Even if they were, you KNOW it's against protocol, and now you've seen exactly why!"

"Aw, I'm flattered! Y'all made an entire protocol around me!" Maple jibes.

"You stay out of this. Also leave, you never should have been dragged off that bus."

The dragon snorts, their spear dissipating as they turn to finally re-board their ride home with a bemused wave.

"That's what I've been saying, but thanks for acknowledging it!"

Upon reaching their seat, the dragon flops onto the worn leather and groans.

"Looks like you had fun, at least," Aspen intones. "Good news, though... they're just going to u-turn and take us back another way."

"Oh thank every single god..."

The dragon's eyes flutter shut as the bus begins moving once more.

Cedar opens the door to their new room. A hotel across town from their previous room thankfully had the discretion to avoid asking stupid questions like "Why do you smell like burnt fur," or "How did you get these scrapes and cuts and burns".

They kick off their shoes, cerulean canvas sneakers striking the wall with a pair of thumps as they pull a strip of metal that expands into a blood-red tablet of hardlight. A fresh set of clothes manifests on the bed. Thankfully, agents of their caliber were afforded Hammerspace Cards to help make missions easier.

Entering the suite's bathroom elicited a sigh of relief... a bath tub, and a large one at that, would make this a far more relaxing night than the previous one.

They'd turn on the water, spraying in a large globule of bubble bath solution, and letting the tub fill. When ready, they'd step in, sinking down to let warm, clean water soak through bloodied, matted fur, with a sigh of relief.

This was a far better setup than they had back at base...

Their eyes flutter closed, as they sit enjoying the fragrant fruits of their violent labors...

Fresh, clean, and newly dry, the lightning dragon slips a shirt down over the thin, well-kempt horizontal scars on their chest, their newly washed fur fluffing out of the sleeves before slowly calming back down.

Swiping up their phone from the bed, the dragon pulls up a pizza delivery app, and taps away an order before flopping onto their back into fresh sheets.

Picking up the remote to the television, they turn it on, news footage cutting to an overhead view of... wouldn't you know it. Their most recent hunting ground. Scowling, they move to change the channel, but pauses when a photo of Maple is flashed onto the screen.

"...resented phone camera footage showing Batchburg Security officers, trying to rough up a local legend who was just trying to catch a bus," the reporter drones.

"...Oh my fucking gods," they spit.

As footage plays, showing a pair of cops getting thrashed from the vantage point of a bus window, Cedar is lost in thought. This... stupid fucking Brand-bearer kept arriving to every single hunting ground the Moon-bearer went to so far. If this jackass wasn't careful, they could risk taking the fall for their mission.

While the idea of getting off scott-free with some other asshole being pegged was typically a dream come true, the idea of this particular asshole being pegged caused their chest to seize up. Ah. This seemed to be the grand, human emotion Maple was calling "friendship".

The blue dragon groans, and grabs their phone once more. The Sun-bearer's contact is selected, and clawed hands tap away.

"Hey, I'm watching the news. Don't get your ass arrested for shit you didn't do." And send text.

A knock rings out. The dragon sniffs into the air, and delectable tomato and garlic waft through the door to the suite.

Pizza.

They leap out of bed, rushing to the door, and swing it open.

"Mochi?"

The dragon nods, recognizing their alias. Taking the pizza and giving a brief thanks, they close the door, failing to notice a tiny metal orb hover in on what had to be the world's smallest propeller.

They set the box down next to their phone, opening the steaming box just as they notice a notification pop up on their phone from Maple.

"I sure am trying, but same goes for you, Sparky xD"

Cedar snorts at their newly assigned nickname. They pick up their phone to type a response.

"I'm not the one fighting cops in the street, Brand-bud. Now shush and let me eat my pizza in peace."

Sent.

They toss their phone to the side, and pull a slice of cheesy tomato goodness from its cardboard prison.

The world's smallest drone sets down across the room. A lens begins to focus in on this strange new arrival to town...

[ next ==> ]

[prcject-utcpia]

The computer room was absolutely destroyed.

The computer itself now lay in ruins, the table that housed it in splinters. Smoldering gouges were painted across the walls and cieling like an abstract art project, with a noticeable gap in damage behind where Maple now stands, scuffed, bruised and covered in soot, swaying slightly, yet still opting to ask about everyone else rather than themselves...

"Maple!!!" Aspen runs to their friend's side, ears flicking in worry. A hand is placed on the dragon's arm. "I know I told Cedar that reckless was your middle name earlier, but there's no need to prove me right!"

The digital face grazing the screen on the wall blinks a few times, mouth agape in shock.

[[ //: I AM... NOT SURE WHAT TO SAY! I DID NOT EXPECT ONE OF THE BRANDED TO BE SO... CHIVALROUS! ]]

A scaled hand is plopped onto Aspen's head between their antlers as a fanged grin spreads across Maple's face. They turn to look at their friend and the now seemingly regretful and awestruck AI.

"Someone had to do somethin', and it's not like Computers Sam over here is capable of leaving the room," the dragon jokes, leaving the AI confused, and the deer bemused.

"...Well, it was thoughtful of you regardless," Aspen remarks fondly.

[[ //: I SUPPOSE IT IS ]] Sammy agrees, reluctantly, before breaking into a sinister grin. [[ //: THOUGH NOT HALF AS THOUGHTFUL AS VALIANTLY SOBBING AT THE SIGHT OF A BUG~ ]]

"CAN IT, BINARY BRAIN!!" Maple erupts. "I coulda just let ya burn, y'know!"

Aspen snickers at the pair's bickering, but ultimately opts to snag the dragon's jacket sleeve, pulling their friend toward the door.

"Alllll right, hothead. I think it's time we went back to the surface," they coax, looking back toward their newly pacified AI friend.

[[ //: OH! IF YOU'RE HEADING TO THE SURFACE, THIS BUILDING HAS A WAY UP WITHOUT ALL OF THE WINDING CORRIDORS! ]]

The friends pause at this revelation.

[[ //: IF YOU HEAD THROUGH THE DOOR TO MY RIGHT, YOU'LL FIND YOUR WAY UP AT THE END OF THE HALL! ]]

"Personally, I like that plan," Maple mentions to Aspen. The tip of their tail flicks a bit. "Wanna do it?"

Aspen ponders it. This could be the start to mapping out every undercity entrance in Eclipse City... there'd be a place to explore for any spot around, and mapping the undercity would be cake!

"...You know what? I think I like that plan too," the deer grins. "Let's do it!"

They did not like that plan.

The minute the pair had reached their destination, they craned their necks to find that the "way up" Sammy had mentioned was in fact, an immense, poorly lit stairwell going up as far as the eye could see.

At first, Maple had been eager to make the climb, even offering to piggyback Aspen the entire way, but in practice...

"Ugh... how much fuckin further is it??" the dragon laments, stopping at the top of this last set of stairs. A scaled hand props the Brand-bearer up on their knee, the other hand shakily gripping the rail.

Aspen, who had long since been dropped off of Maple's back, flops onto their stomach next to them, looking more like a puddle of melted ice cream than a deer.

"...I think we're like..." the gardener gasps for air. "...two-thirds of the way up..."

"...Guhhh... we're so fuuuuuuuucked...!" Maple sputters in despair.

It would seem they still have a long way to go.

The next target is in sight.

A spindly woman in a low-cut shirt and skinny jeans was smoking a cigarette, a large duffel bag hanging from her fingertips, half-unzipped. She leans against the brick wall behind her, her sunglasses lowering down her nose as Cedar approaches.

"Ah, mon ami, I heard I might be getting a visitor from out of town~" she purrs, gripping her back tighter. She pushes back off of the wall and motions to the back alley next to her.

"Step into mon bureau, and I will provide everything you need~"

Cedar's eyes narrow. They were being... expected. Beckoned into an alleyway. And while those were good as ambush locations, it worked both ways...

"Hm," they grunt, slipping their hands from their pockets. The dragon opts to follow the poison pusher cautiously, keeping all of their senses primed.

A thin smile spreads across the woman's face as she leads the Moon-bearer into the confined alleyway. A tune dribbles from her throat as she swings the bag back-and-forth. Back-and-forth. She stops, halfway between Cedar and the brick wall at the far end of the alley.

The dragon's fur stood on end. They couldn't hear much over the woman's humming, but... On the air, came a tiad of unsettling scents.

Metal.

Plasma...

Gunpowder.

A rod of silvered lightning erupts from the ether along with the wings sprouting from their back. The feathery appendages flapped forward, sending the suspended bolt of electricity surging forward, piercing and vaporizing the bag.

As the nylon burns and melts, the shattering of glass rings out, with shards and shrapnel bursting its acrid contents outward, cutting ribbons of crimson from the beast-dragon's prey.

But even as they inflict first blood, it becomes clear that the woman came prepared.

Out of the scraps of withering duffel bag came a massive hunk of metal... a massive, over the shoulder plasma cannon.

She grasps hold of the weapon, slinging it over her shoulder and taking aim as a high-pitched whine builds, yellow-purple energy coalescing within the barrel.

Silver eyes widen.

She pulls the trigger.

Cedar is hit by a white-hot beam of plasma, sending them hurtling out into the street behind them. They roll, catch their footing, and skid to a stop, fangs bared with a snarl.

They cross their arms over their chest, daggers summoned to hand in a flash of silver. The woman steps out of the shadowy corridor, smile widening to a maniacal grimace of a grin.

"Why, mon charmant, you wound me with such hostile eyes~!" she taunts, lifting the weapon for another shot.

Ozone fills the air as Cedar prepares for the next attack. They crouch low, static building around them. With such a slow weapon, it should be easy enough for them to blink out of the--

CRACK!!

Searing pain cuts a red line over the top of their shoulder.

Ah. So that's what smelled like gunpowder.

The plasma cannon fires once more, Cedar's momentary lapse of concentration providing an opening for plasma to once more engulf the Brand-bearer.

They're thrown back once more, this time generating several rods of lightning, launching them toward the initial assailant with their wings. She leaps from their path and takes aim once more.

The sniper opens fire again, with three shots this time. Cedar blinks deftly around each once, and for their effort are rewarded with a peek at the coward: A gaunt, sniveling mess of a calico cat, silver eyes meeting his. He ducks down below the first story window he was firing from.

It's too late.

They've seen him.

His attempt at hiding has earned a hand reaching in, snagging him by the shirt, yanking him from the safety of his sniper's nest. No sooner than his abrupt arrival outdoors is he struck with Cedar's powerful tail, which launches the unfortunate sniper into plasma fire from his accomplice, launching him backward into the Brand-bearer's daggers.

Tearing the weapons from their second victim, Cedar rushes forward, and with a flap of their wings, is sent skyward, safely out of the path of yet another blast.

Celestial silver jams into the plasma cannon as the dragon somersaults overtop of the woman, dragging the weapon through her trump card like a hot knife through butter.

The cannon rendered useless, Cedar lands behind their next victim, lunging forward at blinding speeds. Their blades are plunged into hers - her shoulder blades, that is - and yanked down.

The woman's scream echoes through the empty street, and her wounded compatriot, unable to speak, watches as they swivel around, sweep the woman off her feet with their tail, and send her slamming into the ground with an electrically charged elbow to her chest.

As she hits the ground, unconcious, Cedar meets the sniper's gaze once more. He was completely unable to move his own arms... he couldn't lift his gun to save his life. Instead, he lay there, paralyzed, as the beast made their way over.

One.

Agonizing.

Step.

At a time.

Finally, they're standing over him. Their silhouette against the neon lights was akin to that of a beast. An avenging monster, here to claim the lives of him and his wicked ilk. At least... that's what it felt like to him, in this moment, to look up into their piercing silver gaze.

"When you inevitably see Madd Dogg again... tell him his days are numbered."

The last thing the feline sees is the bottom of Cedar's sneakers.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Maple and Aspen make it to the top of the stairs. Heaving and very unwell, the pair lean on the door they had finally, desperately, managed to reach.

"If I... ever see a flight of stairs... again..." Aspen gasps. "...I think imma... throw up."

"...Grrerugh..." Maple wretches, placing a hand over their eyes. "...I crave... death so much... that life is but a memory..."

And there the pair stay, blissfully unaware of the carnage occurring just down the block and around the corner from where they would emerge... catching their breath for a time until they feel they can at least move their legs.

Their treks home were going to be absolute hell.

[ next ==> ]

[prcject-utcpia]

The rest of their meal had gone off uneventfully. Neither dragon spoke to the other, but by the end, Maple looked less dead, and Cedar less skittish.

The check arrives at their table, Maple slapping their card down for poor Gary to take. The red dragon gives a small, knowing smile to the other.

"...If it's any consolation, now that I know ya exist, I'm not exactly gonna let anything bad happen to ya," the Sun-bearer offers, prompting their counterpart to blink. "After all, we Brand-bearers gotta stick together, yknow?"

The server returns with Maple's card, and they take it, stowing it in their wallet as they saunter away from the table and out the door with a wave.

The lightning dragon huffs as they watch the other leave, and notice a bit of the check was torn off. The missing piece had been slipped closer to them, the paper bearing a phone number, and a note.

"Call or text me if you need ANYTHING. Whether you like it or not, we're BRAND BUDS now!! -Maple"

When the fuck did they find the time to write this in a way they wouldn't notice?

"Hm. 'Brand buds'. Corny. But cute."

The corners of their mouth tug against their will. Maybe they'd take the Sun-bearer up on that whole "friendship" thing after all.

"Omw now, just finished being interrogated," reads the text.

Keratin-clad fingertips tap a brief response.

"Hurry, or im going in without you!! >w<"

Aspen had finally made it to the old Spadetown community center. Untouched for nearly a decade, the building was empty and dilapidated. But most importantly, rumor had it that there was a hidden hatch into the Eclipse City inter-bunker tunnels. Down there, there'd be a whole new world to explore, map out, and from that point, find new gardening plots.

They slip a hand in their pocket, and from within, they pull a thin strip of metal, which splits down the center and expands from each half into a small, magenta hardlight tablet.

Tapping a few buttons on the newly displayed screen would result in a short beam of light that would coalesce into a long, wooden gardening hoe with a weathered head of green-oxidized brass. The deer grasps the handle and hefts the instrument over their shoulder. The tablet closes back into a thin metal strip that they stow back in their pocket.

"Heyyyy!!!" Comes a distant call.

From the sky, Maple glides in, boots skidding briefly as the dragon comes to a stop in front of their friend. Their wings dissipate into golden wisps of balefire. The dragon's eyes fall on the farming tool in Aspen's hands and their brow furrows.

"How the fuck did ya get that thing on a bus? Seems a bit big and pointy to be allowed."

The deer snorts in response.

"Simple, my large scaly friend!" they give a knowing grin and a wink.

"Our mutual benefactor managed to snag me a Hammerspace Card."

The dragon's eyes widen. "No fuckin' way! I wanna see!"

This earns a chuckle from the deer.

"I literally just put it away, dude!" they lament playfully. "Wait til I have to put the hoe away!"

"Heh... hoe..."

A playful shove is levied at the dragon before Aspen leads them around the back of the building via an alleyway. There's a chain and padlock over a heavy iron door, but it doesn't seem to faze the deer any. Brandishing their farming tool, Aspen brings down their hoe onto the padlock, snapping it open with shocking accuracy. The chains would still be useful, even if the padlock itself was fucked beyond repair.

The deer pushes open the door, chipping, green paint flaking off onto their palms. They give a dramatic bow as they flourish toward the opening.

"After you!"

"Heh... you're getting pretty scary with that thing, y'know that?" Maple smirks, stepping into the building. One breath is all that was needed to send their nose into overdrive.

"Godz vorbid anyone ztand in your way nowb, huh?" They punctuate their compliment with a loud sniff.

"Jeez... looks like this place hasn't seen even so much as a roomba in years." Aspen commentates, patting their poor allergy ridden friend on the shoulder. They once would've thought this would teach them to take an allergy pill before going Urbexing together. No. Not a chance.

Not much remained in the room the pair had found themselves in. Any and all shelves that remained had been stripped bare of contents. A few had been partially dismantled. A thick layer of (judging from Maple's predicament) dust covered everything from the walls to the thin, fraying carpet.

The Sun-bearer creeps back behind the dilapidated receptionist desk to a lightswitch. Upon closer inspection, golden eyes spot a gap between the switch and the wall. The dragon wipes their nose.

"...Guess they stribbed the cobber already..."

"Good thing I charged my phone earlier then," Aspen states frankly. They pull out the mobile device, flicking at the screen and turning on the flashlight. "Not all of us can have fancy light-up hands like you and the Dick Destroyer."

With that, Aspens steps into the next room.

Much of the ground floor was the same as this initial lobby, and while it had value as photography fodder, the real prize was yet to be found.

At least, not until Aspen's prodding would uncover a fake panel on the wall. The slightest pressure had resulted in a decent square of drywall to collapse inward, revealing a hidden hallway with another door at the end. Unfortunately, this one wasn't guarded by a simple padlock, but a keypad.

The deer glaces over to the dragon, who steps forward, grins, and, with a golden flash, thrusts a golden spear into the mechanism. A buzzing hiss rings from the poor abused keypad as the heat from the weapon causes the door handle to pop out of its socket at both ends, resulting in the door swinging harmlessly outward. Aspen sticks out their tongue.

"If I'd known that was your plan, I'd have just done it myself," the deer ribs, shining their light down the hall. Curiously, there were screens lining the walls, illuminating a long stairwell down as each one flashes to life once they step beyond the threshold.

"Did... did we just..." they begin.

Maple steps in around them, the dragon's gaze fixated on the screens.

"Dude, I think this mighd be Razing War tech... we mighda just found our bunker tunnel entrance!"

Aspen stifles a snort at the juxtaposition their friend's excitement and their unfortunate stuffy-nose dialect.

"I'm sure we have, nose," they tease. Maple rolls their eyes.

Footfalls echo down the seemingly abandoned corridor as they step toward (and down) the ominous hidden staircase.

"I'm surprised anything still works... they have to have some kinda nuclear reactor or something down here," Maple muses. Their nose begins to clear, the dragon unaware of this implication. Golden claws graze over concrete walls as flickering screens show an antiquated logo with Times New Roman font over a spinning playing card.

"...Talk about ancient. I don't think they've used this logo in decades." Aspen pokes one of the screens. Its display shimmers slightly at the provocation. They unlock their phone into their camera to line up a shot.

"Woah-" Maple jumps out of the line of sight.

Click click click!

Green eyes squint at the results.

"Ooh! That's eerie. I love it!" the deer effuses. Their tail flicks in glee. "We have to go deeper!

After an increasingly unreadable amount of time in old server rooms, empty offices and abandoned break rooms, the pair finds a double-door, open into a massive, cavernous stretch. From just outside the door, a sidewalk stretches to either side, ending in a roadway. Other "buildings" line the underground roadway. Upon entry into the opening, an array of streetlights flicker on, revealing the apparent undercity in its entirety. Maple lets out an involuntary noise.

"What in every actual hell...?"

Aspen silently shakes their head.

"...How big even is this place...?"

Wings burst from Maple's back.

"I can sure as hell find out," they offer, pulling their phone from their pocket. "I'm gonna get a flyover recording. I'll email it to ya when I finish."

The deer nods. "I'll meet you back here then. In the meantime, I'm going to search for a space with natural light."

"Gotcha. Don't get lost!" The dragon launches themselves into the air with a flap of their wings and soars off into the darkness.

Aspen meanwhile, peers over at the building across from the door the friends had just emerged from. While most of it resembled the standard fancy government buildings of old, the center of it was a massive concrete obelisk that stretched straight up into the shadows. A support structure for the undercity, maybe?

"...if anything was going to connect to above ground, it'd have to be this, right...?"

Stepping into the building, Aspen is greeted with a fully furnished waiting area. Behind the reception desk, a screen bursts to life.

Ding DING ding~!

A musical tone belts from the speakers as a simplistic face erupts onto the screen. Cartoony eyes glance about as Aspen jumps back in shock.

[[ //: PROCESSING: PROCESSING: ]]

The "eyes" train onto the deer, and a smile spreads over the display.

[[ //: OH! MY APOLOGIES, I DID NOT PROCESS YOUR PRESENCE INITIALLY! ]]

"U-um."

[[ //: DRAT, HOW RUDE OF ME NOT TO INTRODUCE MYSELF. I AM YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANCE AI UNIT, 54MMY. BUT YOU MAY CALL ME SAMMY! ]]

The deer blinks their brow furrowing in vexation.

"...Personal... assistant?"

[[ //: CORRECT! DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE? ]]

The assistant's animated eyes blink back. Okay, that was freaky. No wonder Batchburg stuck to audio only assistants...

But, the presence of one could still prove useful.

"Do. Do you know if there are any skylights in this building?" They inquire, hefting their tilling implement off their shoulder. "I'm a gardener, you see, and I wanted a quiet place to ply my trade."

A little cartoon hand generates on Sammy's screen, thumb and forefinger stroking her nonexistent chin.

[[ //: THAT WOULD EXPLAIN YOUR EQUIPMENT... BUT NO, I DO NOT HAVE ANY KNOWLEDGE OF SKYLIGHTS WITHIN THIS BUILDING'S FLOOR PLAN. ]]

Aspen's ears droop, wincing at the news.

[[ //: BUT WORRY NOT! WE JUST SO HAPPEN TO HAVE A WORKING COMPUTER IN THE BACK! ]]

A computer...?

[[ //: YOU COULD USE IT TO SEARCH OUR GREAT UNDERCITY FOR A SUITABLE GREENHOUSE FROM THE COMFORT OF OUR STATE-OF-THE-ART SITTING TECHNOLOGY! ]]

Aspen nods vigorously.

"I'll take that option!" they grin, causing Sammy to give a delighted giggle.

[[ //: THEN IF YOU WILL, FOLLOW ME TO THE BACK! DON'T MIND THE MILDEW, I HAVE BEEN OFFLINE FOR [ two-hundred years ] A LONG TIME, SO I HAVE BEEN UNABLE TO RUN CLEANING PROTOCOL! ]]

Aspen side-eyes the AI as they make their way into a dingy hallway, the glowing face zipping from screen to screen down the corridor, until she comes to a stop outside a room with another glowing screen within. A computer had been pre-booted for their convenience. How thoughtful!

"Thank you, Sammy!"

The AI gives another giggle as the ungulate swings the chair out from the desk and flopping down within. While the model of PC used was practically ancient, they imagined it would still do the job.

[[ //: I'M HAPPY TO HELP, YOUNG [ungulate citizen: deer, unknown gender] FRIEND! ]] Sammy effuses, booting up the computer's File Explorer.

[[ //: I AM TAKING THE LIBERTY OF CHECKING THE SYSTEM'S FILES ON YOUR BEHALF FOR SIGNS OF YOUR DESIRED [errorerrorerror] OH DEAR. ]]

Never a good start.

[[ //: IT WOULD SEEM DATA HAS BEEN ADDED TO THE CLOUD. NEW DATA, FROM WITHIN THE PAST [i have been asleep for too long] TWO AND A HALF DECADES. ]]

New...? Was... was some lazy-ass IT intern using an ancient, abandoned PC deep underground as a backup server...? This... prompted collaboration.

Aspen's phone is out again. A quick text rings out.

"Come back to govt building across from meeting spot! Found smth you may want to see."

Sammy, seemingly curious herself, pulls up the database in question, with Aspen beginning to scroll down through the titled entries.

"I gotta see this" is Maple's only reply. Green eyes glance down to view the text, and smile.

[[ //: IT WOULD APPEAR THAT [way too fucking much] A LOT HAS TRANSPIRED SINCE THE END OF THE RAZING WAR! ]]

A file is opened entitled "ON POWER SHORTAGES". It appears to detail the growing power demands for the undercity in the form of a briefing letter. The deer's brow furrows at the name of the apparent composer of the postage.

"...Lord H. Bradley Batchburg...?"

The temperature jumps, and a response is uttered from behind.

"...What...?"

Whipping around, Aspen turns to find Maple, gripping their brand, tail thrashing behind them.

"...What the hell kinda files did you manage to dig up...?" they choke, face taut and brow twitching.

Sammy's screens immediately flash red.

[[ //: BRANDED...? HERE?? THIS ISN'T GOOD, WE'RE GOING TO [burn and roast in the desert sun] BE TOAST! ]]

Golden eyes snap to the AI with a small growl.

"Chill, scrap brain. I'm here with Aspen. Didn't expect to walk in on the airing of dirty corporate laundry is all."

Aspen's face softens. Of course the dragon wouldn't be pleased to hear that name again. But then, they had literally descended into an ancient building with ties to Eclipse City's founding. Maple had to know what they might find.

"Maple's a friend, Sammy. Please stand down."

The red flashing pauses, crimson fading back into blue.

[[ //: SIGH. I CERTAINLY HOPE THEY ARE. I WOULD BE RATHER [extremely fucking livid] UPSET IF THIS MONSTER HAD MANAGED TO MAKE IT INTO THE UNDERCITY TO DESTROY US FOR GOOD! ]]

"Easy on the rhetoric, or you'll be choking on your bigotry with a side of balefire," the Sun-bearer snarls. Sammy's mouth gains a key and zips up into silence.

All the pair knew of the Razing War were snippets that had managed to evade the censors. And even those had been filtered through a lovely shade a magenta-colored corporate propaganda. What little could be gleaned seemed to detail the very sky burning, and all monuments to arrogance melting to ash at the hands of monsters. Maple had always theorized that the "monsters" in question may have been Brand-bearers, but this AI's offhand remark seemed to confirm it.

The dragon joins their friend at the computer screen to read the correspondence, shoulders tense and tail low.

"Dearest residents of Eclipse City,

Your pleas for aid are not unheard. For too long, our ailing government has hindered our capacity for innovation. Our needs and our numbers are outgrowing our supplies. One cannot heat their homes or cook their food on empty, politicking platitudes from men too concerned with their next campaign funding source to find a solution to our ills.

To this end, I write to you today, on behalf of Batchburg Enterprises, to offer you the solutions politicians are too cowardly to pursue. Not merely to our power supply problems, but also to that of the beasts that Razed our beloved world to the ground above! The idea proposed would allow us to take fate into our own hands, return to the surface world, and be plagued by not beast, nor famine, nor any form of oppressor. We call this plan - Project: UTOPIA!

The plan is simple. If we, the people, are to be pressed beneath the boot of cosmic demons, then let us rise up, slip off the yoke of oppression, and use the vast, unlimited power of these beasts for ourselves!

Our brilliant R&D team have succeeded at devising a means of trapping the monsters into a dream of their own making, and siphoning power from them to generate power for our homes, cities, and businesses. This plan, as you can see, solves both of our largest problems with a single solution!

Place your trust in me, and together, we shall return to the surface world for the first time in decades! The sky awaits, my wonderful friends.

Warm regards,

Lord H. Bradley Batchburg"

As the pair finish reading, the surrounding air had jumped about 20 degrees, from a clammy 60F to a sweltering 80F. Maple's breathing had gone shaky about halfway through the entry, and their claws had punctured through the pleather desk chair they were leaning on.

Aspen turns to glance up at their friend, whose complexion had paled about three shades of red.

"...Hey..." they start, but as the Sun-bearer jerks upright, the deer falls silent.

"...Where's the tower for this PC?" Maple demands, turning to glower at the AI that had brought them down this path.

"Maple--"

"... I'm not gonna melt the bigotry bot, Aspen."

"That's not what I was going to say. The tower's right here."

The dragon's eyes close briefly, a puff of air escaping the beleaguered Brand-bearer in earnest. They turn on their heels, producing a small storage USB drive, and plugging it into the tower. Aspen, realizing what was going on, scoots to their left to allow their friend to work.

Claws type furiously as they set the database to copy the files in the database onto the thumb drive, and with a flourish, hits the enter key and stand back up.

Their tail swings up to wrap around themselves, as they grimace, eyes closed, with another huff. A moment passes in silence.

"...What are you planning to do with that thumb drive...?" Aspen inquires, brow furrowed in worry.

"...That bastard wanted to use me as a fuckin battery..." they seethe, bringing their hand up to stare at the golden emblem on its back. Their eyes narrow, moisture beginning to form within them.

"Me. My predecessors, and probably Cedar's too."

Their hands ball into fists.

"Two entire centuries of misery. I need to know more. I need to know how deep this fuckin foxhole goes."

"...You're sending it to Spade to sift through?" Aspen asks. More of a statement, really.

Maple nods. A loud metallic "thunk" can be heard somewhere within the walls. The pair jump, ears immediately perked.

[[ //: UHHH, I DON'T MEAN TO ALARM ANYONE, OR INTERRUPT A [important historical reveal] SERIOUS MOMENT, BUT SOMETHING HAS JUST BEEN DETECTED IN THE VENTS. ]]

The dragon lifts a hand, from their palm, generating a white-gold flame, casting light over their surroundings. Aspen does the same with their phone, the friends scanning every corner of the room with their added brightness.

75% Download complete.

"...I just need a few more moments..." Maple bargains, manifesting their spear.

Another loud clatter erupts the room over. A metallic scratching follows the length of ventilation.

89% Download complete.

"I've got a reeeaaally bad feeling about this..." Aspen mutters, keeping a firm grip on their farming tool.

The skittering noises are now in the ceiling of their current location...

96% Download complete.

[[ //: I'M REALLY STARTING TO WISH THAT I WAS OUTFITTED WITH [huge fucking laserblasters] HOME DEFENSE WEAPONRY RIGHT ABOUT NOW... ]]

98% Download--

In the walls.

99% Download comp--

Aspen's eyes fall upon a large square vent in a corner near the ceiling.

A faint, pulsating violet comes from within.

"It's here...!"

100% Down-

Maple lunges for the PC tower, snatching the thumb drive, stowing it in their pocket...

Just in time for the vent door to burst open, unleashing a screeching, nigh-formless mass, outfitted with what appeared to be a mechanical spine, four insectoid legs, an a scorpion-like tail into the room, leaping deftly to dodge Aspen's first swing, but fails to account for a second, downward swing with the backend of the tool.

The little freak slams into the concrete floor, bouncing back up from the impact, right into the path of a thrust from Maple's spear. Before it can make contact however, its tail thrashes into a downward point, the tip building up a dark violet energy and unleashing it into the ground. The creature launches into the air in one, two, three flips, and attaches its spindly legs to the ceiling. The dragon's face pales as it goes skittering across the cieling, and down onto the opposite wall.

"Oh, grossgrossgrossgross-" they brandish the tip of their spear, the point stopping over the shoulder opposite their spear arm, a ball of roiling golden plasma coalescing over their shoulder.

"-KILL IT WITH FUCKIN BALEFIRE!!" Maple swings their spear, sending the blazing orb hurtling toward the cosmic purple blob. The resulting explosion tears a hole through the wall, Sammy's indignant screeching echoing from behind.

Unfortunately for all involved, the Sun-bearer had missed, and the creature was now hurtling toward Maple's face. Their turn to screech, this time in pure terror.

"NO YOU DON'T!" Aspen, in for the save, rushing around the dragon to catch their assailant on the inside of their hoe's curve, tearing a hole in its underside.

It lets out an eye-watering screech, its tail once more building up energy, unleashing it wildly in its death-throes. Maple's eyes widen, and, grabbing the back of Aspen's shirt, they yank the deer back between them and Sammy's screen. The dragon meanwhile, positions themselves between the dying monster, and their friend. Wings burst from their back, expanding out to further shield all behind them from harm as they take lash after lash of cosmic energy from a dying beast with nothing else to lose.

Finally though, the creature bleeds out, and its attacks cease. Maple groans as their wings and their spear dissipate into balefire.

"...Is everyone alright...?"

[ next ==> ]

[prcject-utcpia]

"Ah, greasy burgers, here we come!"

Maple's snout is split by a grin as the stand outside the chain establishment. They turn to glance at the Moon-bearer, who follows closely behind. The two could not contrast further, at least visibly. While the Sun-bearer prattled on about what meals they liked at different restaurants, tail flicking and hands animated, Cedar was silent. Still. Their face betrayed no emotion, especially not the jittery swelling of excitement in their chest.

"Let's get a seat," Maple concludes, motioning for the other to join them.

They emerge through double-doors into a brief waiting area, behind which was a sprawling eatery with booth tables lining the walls and a couple dividers, and typical tables with normal chairs between them. In the center of the room was a bar that a few patrons had gathered around, booze in hand. It's like. Ten in the morning, guys. Get it together.

At the front waiting area, the baggy eyes of the hostess glance up to see the pair. Her spine whips upright, but her posture relaxes upon taking in the Sunbearer.

"Oh thank god, it's just you, Maple," she sighs. A hand is placed over her chest, as though calming a frightened animal.

"Are things that bad this morning?" Maple inquires, their gaze darting from wall to neon-plastered wall. "I know Blackjack's is busy on Fridays, but you looked ready to evaporate."

Cedar's brow furrows.

"We can head somewhere else if it's bad here," they offer.

The hostess gives a shaky smile to the blue dragon.

"I appreciate the thought, but really, everything should be fine... my shift'll end soon enough anyway..."

She trails off, and her eyes move between the pair. Blond brows furrow.

"New friend?" She asks Maple. "I haven't seen them around town before."

Cedar swallows the urge to roll their eyes.

"I just wanted to ask them some questions," Cedar replies. "They offered food. Why would I pass that up?"

Maple places a hand on their hip.

"Personally speaking, I'd count saving my tail against that drone as the beginning of a beautiful friendship," Maple snarks.

"It's an alliance of convenience," Cedar insists, flippantly. "You get me protecting you from yourself, I get answers to my violently burning questions."

"We're gonna be best friends."

"If you don't shut up, I'm eating YOU."

The hostess' head whips back and forth between the red and blue dragons, their remarks and jibes firing like guns into the overcrowded noise of the restaurant.

"So um. Are you wanting a table...?" she interjects, pulling the pair from their banter.

Maple rubs the back of their head. Cedar crosses their arms, looking away with a sharp huff. Both nod, sheepish in their embarrassment.

"Fantastic," the hostess sasses, motioning her head for the Brand-bearers to follow her. "A table JUST opened up for you."

With a shrug, Maple wanders after the girl toward the table, followed closely by Cedar. She sets down menus as the pair sit at the still-damp table, and settle across from each other into the soft leather of their booths.

"Now, your server will be out shortly," she intones musically, face drawn taut in an emotionless smile. "Enjoy your meal, you two!!"

She swivels on her heels and marches back to her relatively quieter seat at the front desk.

A moment of silence follows. Maple's eyes crinkle into a vague wince. Cedar leans back, arms crossed, into their booth, a single finger tip-tip-tapping their arm.

"Making friends everywhere you go, aren't you?" Cedar smirks, tail flopping into the space beneath their table.

The Sun-bearer rolls their eyes.

"Takes two to tango, buddy," they retort, pushing a menu across the table. "Now you can find your order, or you can keep being a jackass."

"Why not both?"

The Moon-bearer takes the menu, looking over the laminated rectangle. After a moment, silver eyes seemed to pause in their search, and, Maple could swear a bit of red would dust their face.

"...I think I have my order."

The red dragon nods, slowly, brow furrowed, before searching their own menu. There were a lot of good options at Blackjack's but Maple had their heart and stomach set on the barbecue spare ribs.

They set their menu down.

"So you said you had questions?" Maple starts, head tilting. Golden claws tap the table in rhythmic fashion.

"Oh! Yes, so..."

"Welcome to Blackjack's, I'm Gary, and I'll be your server today!"

An inked, pierced figure with a dyed mullet stood over the pair in an apron. Cedar's lips purse at the interruption.

"Do you all know what you'd like to order today?" Gary bubbled, oblivious to the blue dragon's death stare.

"Oh! Yes, am I able to get the ribs and sweet potato fries? I'd like honey mustard for dip. Oh, and ginger ale for the drink," Maple effuses.

Cedar's annoyance withers as the server turns to them.

"...Um." they begin, before muttering beneath their breath. Gary blinks a bit.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite catch tha-"

"I want the tenders with fries and a chocolate milk please," the Brand-bearer rattles off, louder this time, as though rehearsed. They avoid Maple's gaze as they order, face unreadable. The incessant eye contact seems to make the server uncomfortable, as the dragon returns the menus.

"O-okay, the chicken tenders with fries," Gary notes, a vexed smile still plastering the poor server's face. "Any dip...?"

"No thank you," Cedar levelly responds. Never let them know your next move.

"A-alright, a rib plate and a tender plate! I'll be back out shortly with your drinks."

Gary heads back the way he came, and Cedar stares at Maple, silently daring the other to comment on their order.

They merely tilt their head in response.

"Huh. I don't typically have the guts to order chocolate milk myself," Maple starts, prompting Cedar's ears to slowly fold back, before-

"I don't really care for the lack of refills. If I get a drink at a restaurant, I wanna fuckin' GUZZLE my drink with reckless abandon, not piecemeal it til the end."

The fluffball blinks. Ah. A fellow dragon of culture.

This earns the red dragon a subtle smile from the Moon-bearer, resulting in a fanged grin from the former in response.

"...See, you just lack discipline," Cedar jabs playfully. "But that much is obvious to anyone who's seen you fight."

Maple snorts in response, leaning back in their booth as Gary returns once more with the pair's refreshments.

"Hell yeah!" Maple blurts gratefully at recieving their drink. They're already tearing open their straw. "Thanks!"

"Thank you very much," Cedar follows, infinitely quieter than their counterpart. Very demure. Very mindful.

As Gary once more leaves them in peace, the blue dragon takes a sip of their bovine ambrosia, and folds their hands in front of them over the table.

"Now then... my questions."

"Shoot," the Sun-bearer permits.

"You seemed less surprised about my brand than I was about yours. Why?"

"Starting off strong, I see," Maple comments with a sigh. "To be honest, I was pretty shocked too. The opening you created just took priority."

Cedar's brow furrows.

"...Not what I meant."

Maple's head tilts. "What DO you mean then?"

Silence.

"What do you know about us? Brand-bearers, I mean."

The red dragon shifts uncomfortably in their seat.

"...Not much. I know I'm not the first Sun Brand bearer. I know my predecessor was doing what I am now, for the most part."

Cedar's lips purse, the tip of their tail flicking as Maple continues.

"I also know he was killed for it, and that there could theoretically be a lunar brand to match," the corner of the dragon's mouth twitches. The straw of their ginger ale was now being assaulted by suction power akin to the vacuum of space.

"...Honestly, the fact that a Lunar Brand-Bearer could exist, alive and free, in front of me was more a cause for relief than anything else."

Alive and free? "What do you mean?"

A cough clears the scaled dragon's throat. A clawed hand raises to rub, almost habitually, at the golden pronged circle on their right hand.

"...What do mean, what do I mean?"

"You said me being 'alive and free' left you relieved. What did you mean by that?"

Golden eyes scrunch, as the scaled brow above them furrows. They say nothing, unable to meet their counterpart's gaze, their Brand rubbing only intensifying.

Cedar's heart begins to sink in their chest. Blue fur begins to stand on end.

"...Is it that hard of a question?" they press, the dim lighting above them beginning to flicker. "Are Brand-bearers imprisoned, or hunted or something? How are you here, if it's that dangerous for us??"

Maple's eyes glaze over at the bombardment, shoulders tense. The rubbing has since become a barely constrained gripping of their branded hand within their claws. More silence.

"...Please ask literally anything fucking else," they croak, their breaths quickening. "Please..."

The tension in the Moon-bearer's chest melted, hearing Maple's plea. The look in their eyes... they knew that look well. Every time Cedar looked in a mirror they saw that same expression. Their gaze softens with a sigh, and they lower their head, defeated.

"Alright," they concede. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Their fur flattens, and the flickering light stablizes and brightens one more.

Maple gives a half-hearted wave and a shrug.

"...I'm the one who said I'd answer your questions."

"I know, but..." Cedar trails off, arms folded with a small noise escaping their throat.

Cedar's mind was left racing. Maple was relieved to see another Brand-bearer "alive and free". The implications of such a statement were disturbing, to say the least. While the previous Sun-bearer, according the red dragon, was merely killed (presumably) for resistance to this city's corporate overlords, taken in context with the succeeding statement would lead to a possibly darker reality to the one they'd initially imagined. What was it Maple's predecessor was resisting? Was it as simple as it seemed on the surface?

Silver eyes fall to the table, and the pair sit in silence. One head full of thoughts, the other unable to think at all. It seemed almost like all energy had been sucked from their booth.

The clattering of plates cuts through the silence as Gary returns, a tray balanced expertly on one hand.

"Alrighty, everyone, I have a rib plate and a tender plate for Maple and Cedar?"

The server withers at being greeted by two dead and distant stares, an anxious chuckle gurgles from his throat.

"... What? Did I say something wrong?"

[ next ==> ]

[prcject-utcpia]

Their stay at the hotel was... questionable. Cedar rose from their slumber, and, after a quick brush of their teeth, they had their jacket slung over their shoulders, hallway floor creaking below their blue-sneakered feet as they made their way to any hotel's best feature: continental breakfast.

Though the pickings were vast, they would ultimately settle for yogurt, home fries, a blueberry muffin and two strips of bacon. The news feed on the tv overhead was showing an unnervingly familiar scene behind a reporter discussing a fight that had broken out the night before, between local legend Maple Sunbrand and a "malfunctioning" security drone.

"...What could be recovered from the drone footage showed a valiant effort by the legend themselves, to defend an innocent caught at the wrong place at the wrong time," the reporter drones onward.

The dragon's eyes glaze over as they shove another creamy spoonful of fruity, gurty goodness into their waiting gullet. Figures, that other brand-bearer had fashioned themselves a local hero. Had Cedar been that naive, perhaps they could have done the same.

"Batchburg Enterprises has not yet commented on the scuffle, but local first responders did find evidence of a shooting, close by."

Their chewing stops, their ears straightening up. One pierced ear swivels toward the door, where a large figure in black-blocc enters, mask and sunglasses covering any identifying features. Stepping over to the front counter, the figure pulls a phone from black sweatpants and shows the lit screen to the receptionist. She shakes her head and responds to whatever the newcomer showed her in hushed tones.

"Hm," Cedar grunts, keeping a peripheral eye on the new entry. Another strip of bacon is lost to the void of their stomach. Their hood is pulled over their head as they stand quietly, and slip away from the table and down a side hallway.

Fluorescent light buzz overhead, their luminance exposing the dingy carpet below to scrutiny as the Brand-bearer slips out an emergency exit. Alarms blare behind them as they unfurl their wings and take flight.

A quick Roulette search had very easily pulled up Maple's personal info. Far more easily than Cedar would've liked. It did unfortunately, make it child's play to track down the other dragon. Somewhere below, in the concrete expanse that is Eclipse City was a little soup kitchen feeding those who are down on their luck.

Windows and screens shimmer gold in the morning sunrise, blinding Cedar's poor baby blues as they descend to the asphalt below. Their wings dissipate into static as sneakers hit the ground. Silvery eyes scan the surroundings, and, satisfied, they continue, gaze fixed on Roulette Maps over their phone.

The atmosphere in the kitchen is lively. Scaled red hands deftly slice any and all ingredients in knife range. The back of the knife slides diced meats and veggies into a hot oiled pan. Spices dance over the quickly heating mixture, the scent of seared flavor overtaking the room with gusto.

"Hey Aspen," Maple calls out. A spritely deer with an antler and a half looks up from their pot. "Can you please pass me the water spritzer?"

Collagen coated fingertips quickly toss a nozzled bottle over to the dragon.

"Anything to keep you from spitting fire into the food again," Aspen snarks back. The projectile is snatched from the air.

"Oh har-dee-har-fuckin'-har," the Sun-bearer snorts. A squirt of water is all it takes for flames to briefly shoot up around the sautéing contents of Maple's pan. They jiggle the pan forward and back a couple times before, with a flick of the wrist, they send sizzling beef, carrots, onions and potatoes into the air, and back into the pan. Another burst of flame punctuates the gesture.

"It was literally the one time," they continue, reaching for the stove's dial. "Extenuating circumstances!"

"I don't think 'getting scouted for the position of a Batchburg executive's personal chef' counts as that in a court of law," the deer retorts.

Their pot of richly scented curry is offered to the dragon, who upends the contents of their pan into the mixture. The curry pot is placed back on their stove, which continues to simmer the delectable dish.

The door to the kitchen creaks open, prompting the pair of pals to swivel their heads. A familiar blue snout pokes in, silvery eyes flicking back and forth. An ear twitches as they step into the room. As they do, Maple's eyes widen, and a grin splits their face in two.

"Oh! Aspen, this is the one I was telling you about!" Their voice lilts up, tail twitching behind them. The deer beside them also stood at attention, their finger poking out toward the blue dragon.

"OH! So YOU'RE the legendary Dick Destroyer!" The ungulate spouts, with just a bit too much glee. Maple chokes on their own laughter, trying (and failing) to stifle a snort behind a hand. Cedar bristles at their crass new title.

"I SAID I WAS SORRY, GODS DAMNIT!" the Moon-bearer protests. They cross their arms in defiance and look away from the jovial jesters with a huff. If they knew they'd be dealing with a pair of veritable children, they might have re-thought this whole arrangement... is what they'd say had they not had so many questions...

"I'm here about last night anyway, not your vienna sausage. Either we talk, or I leave."

It was Aspen's turn to snort. "Heck yes, someone else to torture Maple with!"

This drew a small, unwitting smile from Cedar. Maple merely blinks in response, their half-lidded, unamused stare hiding genuine bemusement.

"Yeah. Sure."

A bit of true emotion shines through with the crack of a lopsided smirk.

"There's a decent chain nearby," the Sun-bearer suggests. "Or we could check out a nice tea place that just opened."

The other dragon shrugs.

"I think the chain might be better," the Moon-bearer decides, an ear flicking absently. "More people, so we're less likely to be overheard."

Maple's brow furrows.

"Wait, why would more people make us harder to overhear?" The Sun-bearer inquires.

Cedar resists the urge to scoff. It's not their fault, after all, that fiction has mislead people.

"It's louder. They'll focus more on their own business and leave us to ours."

Aspen taps a fingertip to their cheek. "So the reason cafés are popular for first dates is..."

"It's less private, yes," the Moon-bearer confirms. "Can't exactly tell someone in a quiet café that they're gonna get stabbed without turning a few heads."

"Speaking from experience?" Maple jibes, eliciting a scowl from the other. Too close to the truth for comfort.

"If you don't keep your mouth shut, you'll sure find out!" Cedar retorts, punctuating the threat with a raised brow.

The Sun-bearer's ears droop at their response. Tough crowd.

"Now are we going or not?" The Moon-bearer asks. Answer quickly, Maple.

Maple's gaze drifts to Aspen, who merely shoos the pair.

"I'm not going. I've got a potential lead on the bunker I need to check," The deer rebuffs. "You two have fun though. I'd say 'stay safe', but I'm pretty sure 'Reckless' is Maple's middle name."

A bemused noise is pulled from Cedar's throat. Maple merely rolls their eyes. The former nods toward the door.

"I'll bring you back some fries," the red dragon offers, the corners of their mouth tugging upward. "Make sure you live long enough to eat them, Captain Urbex."

They wave to their friend, and turn to follow Cedar out of the kitchen.

"Ha-ha," the deer counters sardonically. "You owe me for cleaning up the grease pit, by the way!"

"Thank youuuuuuuuu!" Maple calls back, the expression of gratitude quickly being muffled by the closing of the door.

As the pair of dragons shuffle off, Aspen is left in silence. Curry bubbles in a pot behind them. After an exhale, the deer turns to survey the kitchen.

"Welp," they ponder, bringing their thumbs up to scratch at their palms. "Where to begin...?"

[ next ==> ]

[prcject-utcpia]

Soft lights begin to twinkle to life across the darkening dusk cityscape as a lithe blue figure steps off the bus. One hand is protected from the autumnal chill in their jacket pocket. The other cradles a smartphone, its screen blaring to life as its user's silver eyes skim over its contents.

A login screen for an innocuous virtual pet game gives way to a different, more insidious site, a blood-red crescent, embazoning the top-left of the screen, opening up toward the sky (whatever approximated a "sky" on a digital phone screen, anyway). A clawed thumb swipes upward across the screen, heavy lidded eyes narrowing upon seeing a picture. The photo, depicting a rat in brown leather and beige scarf, looked to be taken by a passerby witnessing something untoward, if the bag of needles in the rodent's hand was anything to go by.

A derisive snort bursts from the beast's turquoise snout.

Drugs.

They were beginning to understand what the mission entailed. This was due to be quite the business trip.

Azure sneakers hit the pavement, the phone being slipped back into the warm confines of their dark denim pocket as the streets extend before them. Chilly residents in patched, well-worn clothing stand on well-lit corners. Quiet chatter dims as they pass, noses and snouts entrenched firmly within the bounds of their own business.

Their tail was bristled with frost by the time they spot him. A whip-like tail darts around the corner, a brief metallic glint betraying ill intent. They follow, pace unchanging, until they form a silhouette into the dark alley. A dead-end, with a chain-link fence at the end.

Perfect.

They take a step forward.

"Hey pal, I ain't sees your type 'round here," the rodent snivels, straightening his back. "Lookin' for some Eclipse City bliss? First's on da house, courtesy of Mad Dogg!"

Another step forward.

"Quiet type, eh? I c'n respect it," he chitters on. "You's gotta name, or should I calls ya 'outta towner'?"

"Cedar Silverbeam."

Another step forward. Their mouth parts in a fanged grin.

"Not that you'll live long enough to remember."

Hands slide from their jacket pockets. A cresent etches itself onto the back of their left hand in silvery light.

"W-w-waittaminnit, pal! The hell's this about??"

A flash of silver brings two sterling daggers to each of Cedar's hands.

"Oh, nothing personal, I assure you," they lie. Another step closer. "But I figure gutting enough of you poison pushers will bring out the big man himself."

A hiss sputters from the rat as verminous hands drop the paraphernalia to the ground in favor of a silenced pistol, pointing it shakily at the beastly assailant.

"I-I ain't scared'a the likes a' you!"

Right in the crosshairs. Their only response is a low cackle.

"Bet."

One shot fired. Two of them, whizzing past and hitting only air, as the scent of ozone heralds each supernatural warp around each bullet. With each shot fired, the gap closes further. With each shot fired, the rat's fur stands up taller.

"If -- you -- ask -- me --" Cedar continues, their words separated by each blink. One dagger was now pointed at the other's throat. "I'd say you fucking reek of fear."

The rat's gun lowers. One hand slides to his belt as Cedar continues.

"But then, that could always just be your unwashed- tch!" They jerk to the left, cold steel rending their undershirt and making a thin, shallow line in their side. They reel back as the sneak-attack is followed by white-hot pain in the left side of their head.

The little fucker had pistol-whipped them!

Their incredulity would serve to be short-lived as another shot rings out, their head jerking to the left (ow) as crimson begins to flow down their jaw. A glancing blow, but it was enough.

Enough to turn incredulity to a building storm of unyielding rage.

"Yeah. That's not gonna happen again."

Two pockets of silvery light begin to expand from their upper back as their fangs lay bare, mouth widening into a needle-filled deathtrap of a grin. Their eyes widen into a dead, icy stare as feathered wings burst forth from each glowing mass on their back, pouring static and plasma through the brick corridor closing in with certain doom.

In an instant, they're on him. Their low stance snaps upward. Left arm in the air. A clean blade. The other plunges into the rat's shoulder. Another clean blade.

The rat tries to cry out. The rat can't find his voice. He can't feel his shoulder. He can't feel his hand. He raises his gun... where's his gun...?

...

...Where's his hand?

The beast-dragon brings the pommel of each dagger together on each side of the rat's head. And for the latter, everything goes black.

The rat's limp form collapses, sitting slumped against the chain fence behind him. A dark liquid seeps from the coat of the vermin piled at Cedar's feet. Hundreds in illicit goods ruined, all thanks to them. The dragon's wings and weapons glow and dissipate in a flash of silvery plasma as they turn heel and emerge from the scene of their latest hunt, back into the cold streets.

The gross little freak wasn't dead, but it sure would take a miracle to get him back on the streets.

"More than he deserved," Cedar muses, before themselves slumping against a nearby wall and sliding to the ground.

They'd worry about their shirt later - it wasn't a large cut - but for now, they would reach into their jacket pocket and emerge with some gauze and medical tape. They would gingerly apply the gauze to the gash on their face, using their fangs to cut the tape into usable strips.

And for now, they would rest.

A melodious tune drips from a fanged maw as crimson-scaled hands pack a plastic bag full of soups and meals. Illuminated by the dim lights their apartment afforded, golden eyes scan the clean-if-cluttered kitchen for anything else that might be of use.

After a moment, the apartment's resident nods, satisfied. And from a coat rack near the front door, they grab a heavy, black overcoat and slip it over their mahogany-red turtleneck, adjusting the gold-yellow faux-fur trim on their hood. After one last minute counting off everything they needed, the horned resident grabs their bag, brimful of freshly heated meals, and steps out into the evening chill.

Autumn winds ruffle the silver-tipped fluff at the top of Cedar's still-throbbing head and they look through their phone.

"...Mad Dogg..." they mutter, voice breaking from exhaustion. Their tail thumps the ground with unexpected vigor. They have little information on the Kingpin known as Mad Dogg. Showed up one day, made some pals, evaded law enforcement. It's now believed he uses Eclipse City as a base of operations to send dealers into other muncipalities.

"Hey."

They're snapped out of their reverie by the other voice, and look up to find a stranger, holding out a paper cup that smelled... delectable.

"You look like you could use something to eat," The stranger continues, dark auburn hair framing a small smile, seemingly undeterred by Cedar's patented dead stare.

The cup of food stands hovering in front of their face, and they turn away, jaw clenching and eyes closed...

...

The brief silence is cut by a growl one would be forgiven for believing had come from some kind of mutilated, enraged wildcat.

"...Fine." They take the cup, opening the lid and stirring the contents, steam pouring into the night. "Thanks."

"Not a problem!" The warm-colored stranger responds, voice lilting upward. "I haven't seen you around before. Did you... run into trouble with the locals...?"

Their red scaled brow furrows as their eyes scan the other's bruised and damaged face.

Cedar's inscrutable expression softens, just slightly.

"I handled it. Don't worry." Their reassurance is punctuated by the animalistic slurping of noodles.

A snort escapes the redhead.

"I see. Well, while you're here in town, don't hesitate to ask me for help if you see me arou-" Their voice trails off, a metallic whistle-whirring replacing their dulcet tones with increasing volume.

"...Great." They hiss derisively, their pierced ears flicking at the sound.

"What...?" Cedar offers, managing to finish their cup with one last gulp.

[//: ALL PERSONS DROP YOUR WEAPONS.]

"That." The other spits, a scowl hardening their expression. They motion their head up behind them.

An immense orb lowers itself to the ground, person-sized pincers clacking to each side as its metallic form opens up at the top, revealing a cylindrical head emerging from its chassis.

[//: THIS IS BATCHBURG SECURITY DRONE 1837B RESPONDING TO REPORTS OF UNSANCTIONED COMBAT. MAKE NO SUDDEN MOVES OR YOU WILL BE APPREHENDED.]

A human, having just walked out of an apartment on the other side of the road near the drone stammers in shock, the harmonic jingling of house keys prompting the construct to swivel on its axis toward the poor bystander, whose feet get tangled up.

Their ass hits the ground as they're addressed.

[//: YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, RYLEK THOMAS, CITIZEN ID 2759725C. PREPARE YOURSELF FOR IMMEDIATE DETAINMENT.]

Its two optical sensors flare to life in vibrant magenta, reflecting sharply against its smooth, black steel.

"N-no, you have it all wrong! It's just my keys! I'm not armed!" Rylek pleads, futilely.

The metal monstrousity cranks back its left arm, prompting whimpering from the the human, and growls from the scaled stranger, who lifts themselves from a kneel back onto both boots. A particular glow catches Cedar's eye - not the magenta of the construct, but a gold one on this stranger's right hand. A mark shaped distinctly like the sun.

"...It's not just me...?"

The stranger steams - literally - as they take a step forward, that same golden glow protrudes from their back and their palms. The air shimmers as they launch themselves forward, a spear forming out of golden flame in their hands, striking the robot's arm mid lunge and sparing Rylek the fate of being captured by the world's jumpiest security drone.

Interposed between the over-reaching enforcer and its unfortunate victim, was now this stranger, great red wings extending from their back, as with a flourish, they set the pommel of their spear against the concrete.

[//: MAPLE SUNBRAND, CITIZEN ID 01996777B - YOU ARE HEREBY CHARGED WITH ACCESSORY, AIDING AND ABETTING A CRIMINAL, AND RESISTING ARREST. PREPARE YOURSELF FOR IMMEDIATE DETAINMENT.]

"Aid and abett Deez Nutz, Robocop," Maple jeers, their maw splitting into a sneer. A claw comes down in response... and is promptly parried. "Come on, then! I'll scrap you like the rest!"

In but a little more than an instant, the red dragon follows up with a flurry of swipes, and finishing with a roundhouse swing of their spear. The onslaught forces the other back.

Cedar watches in disbelief, a single eye twitching as this... cocky stranger faces off against local law enforcement. For what? So some random doesn't get arrested under false pretenses?

And they... had a brand similar to theirs, with similar abilities...

"Why didn't they tell me...?"

Maple is slammed in the abdomen with an immense metal arm. The airtime is... honestly kind of impressive. They hit the ground - HARD - and bounce off the asphalt, somersaulting off their back, face over tail, before they slide to a halt on their stomach, wheezing.

"Hhhhhooooooh, that's gonna hurt in the morning..." They groan, using their spear to pull themselves off their face.

[//: QUERY (RHETORICAL): WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT BRAVADO YOU DISPLAYED JUST NOW? DERISIVE LAUGHTER. VICTORIOUS CACKLE.]

The robot begins to hold its chassis, and convulse. As though its dry narration of laughter were real. Maple straightens their shoulders and sets their jaw.

These people are insane. Cedar determines, all shock and awe having officially drained from their slacked mouth.

"Don't count me out yet, Tin Man!" The red dragon's brand glows, their hand lifting, middle finger against their thumb.

SNAP!

Several areas across the drone's chassis and arms come alight, before exploding into celestial flame - one for each strike landed with their spear. The construct jolts with each explosion, slowing to a halt as an ominous hum builds within.

The four-pointed structure on its back shoots upward off its back with a hiss, splitting into two, and falling into place by connecting to the 'wrists' of each claw. The structures - immense shuriken - whir to life like enormous buzzsaws of weeb-ish death.

[//: OBSERVATION: C4 USAGE DETECTED. CHARGES OF DOMESTIC TERRORISM, ATTEMPTED MURDER, AND ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON ADDED.]

"Bullshit!" Maple spits, unhelpfully.

[//: LETHAL FORCE AUTHORIZED. GOODBYE, MAPLE SUNBRAND, CITIZEN ID 01996777B.]

The vigilante coughs, taking a step back. Sweat began to bead on their brow.

"...Batchburg wasn't joking about these upgrades..." They mused, brandishing their weapon. "Now they're stupid AND fucking lethal..."

The blue dragon's eyes widened. The brand bearer... didn't fight lethal opponents for a living...? Far be it from Cedar to keep idiots from experiencing the consequences to their actions, but this particular idiot had at least shown some measure of kindness toward them. Not only that but... this "Maple" character had a brand like theirs. If they wanted any answers, this unfortunate arrogant moron needed to survive.

Their brand flashes and burns, wings bursting from their back as they launch toward the construct. Their foot connects with chassis, just above its arm. The construct reels, its wound-up swing meeting asphalt instead of juicy dragon flesh as the moon-bearer uses the moronic monstrousity as a launchpad. Maple's eyes widen as Cedar rises into the air, a 1080 degree, electrically charged spin turning into deadly descent as they plunge their daggers deep into the space between chassis and head.

Cedar hooks their daggers in as the construct begins to convulse wildly, sparks of lightning pouring from the "wound". The optical sensor on its head blinks uncontrollably, the domed ballistic glass casing over the second sensor bursting and shattering.

Maple gasps, quickly regaining composure, crouching low, before lunging, and skewering the incompetent coghead through this newly formed weak spot. Its arms immediately detatch with a loud hiss, the gargantuan golem convulsing in death throes.

[//: E-E-E-E-ERROR: SYSTEMS FAILING. C-C-C-CONTACT-CONTACT BATCHBURG ENTERPRISES TO SEND. A... REPOOOOOOOoooooort...]

Cedar's eyes are squinted shut as the enforcer construct finally comes to a halt, unceremoniously clattering to the ground as Rylek - intelligently - peeks out of the building they had recently taken shelter in.

"Is... is it over...?"

Maple's spear is yanked from the metal carcass and flourished as it, and their wings, dissipate into wisps of auric balefire.

"It is now, thanks to this guy here!" They gesture over to Cedar, who had hopped down off of the drone, and was now silently observing, weapons and wings gone.

"Not gonna lie, the freaky weeb-saws were new," the dragon muses to the human. "But I'm still standing. Gotta thank my new friend for that."

Cedar's gaze lingers on the chatting pair, their conversation about corporations and drones fading as their thoughts turn toward recent developments.

Their branded left hand twitches in their jacket pocket at the thought of having been misled about the prospect of there being more like them. Silver eyes linger on the red dragon's right hand, a golden-yellow sun symbol glinting off the street lights. The dull refraction of the dark metal chassis behind them contrasted against the chipped, bruised red of this vigilante's damaged scales.

Cedar's jaw sets.

"Thanks for the save, by the way!"

They're snapped out of their own thoughts. Maple had seen Rylek off, and the two Brand Bearers stand alone, amidst shrapnel and metal.

"Huh...?" they offer, unhelpfully. "O-oh, yeah, it's whatever."

"I mean it," Maple proffers back. Their grin remains, golden eyes crinkling at the edges. "I don't think I would've made it out of that in one piece if not for you."

They hold out a branded fist toward Cedar.

"My offer before still stands. Anything you need - food, information, or even a place to crash - ask, and I'm your Huckleberry."

Cedar's face scrunches a bit at that. The corner of their mouth curls up against their will into an almost bemused grimace of a grin.

This "Maple" had gone from genuine and kind, to frustratingly arrogant, to hokey boy scout in a matter of minutes. A veritable storm of contradictions, sure. But one that was offering help.

What really caught their interest though, was the offer for information.

"I might take you up on that then, farmhand," they tease, bumping Maple's fist with their own. They turn to face the street, looking out over buzzing neon and faded billboards. Maple follows suit, shifting from foot to foot.

"It's getting a bit late though, so I'll probably catch you tomorrow," Cedar muses to the other, reaching a claw up to scratch their brow.

A brief pause stretches the silence, before, quicker than the red dragon can react, Cedar's claw balls into a fist, and swings down below the belt to absolutely devastate Maple with a blow that knocks the wind out of them with a wheeze. The sun-bearer collapses to the ground in a heap, hands cupping their nuked nether regions tenderly as tears well in their eyes.

"Wh-whyyy...?" they manage weakly, their voice reaching octaves that would leave Ariana Grande shaking.

"So maybe you'll think twice before invoking 'doze nuts' next time," the moon-bearer responds.

"...That's... fair..."

A huff leaves Cedar's nostrils as they ponder whether they overdid it a bit. Their gaze darts back and forth before they opt for a muttered "...Um. Sorry."

A scaled red thumb lifts weakly in response.

"I'll... uh. Catch you tomorrow."

A hand shoots up in a rigid half wave toward the beleaguered Sun-bearer, before the other dragon takes off at a half-jog before sprouting wings once more and shooting off into the night.

"...Owww..."

[ next ==> ]