#Hoverboard Market

[baby-kirby]

kingdom hearts with no context my beloved

so nonsensical

so whimsical

[dutifullycoralcollector]

Hoverboard Scooters Market is poised to achieve continuing growth During Forecast Period 2023-2030

The hoverboard scooters market is a growing industry, driven by increasing demand for eco-friendly and innovative personal transportation solutions. Hoverboard scooters are self-balancing electric scooters that use gyroscopic sensors to detect changes in the rider’s center of gravity and adjust the speed and direction of the scooter accordingly.

The market for hoverboard scooters is being driven by a range of factors, including increasing urbanization, growing concerns about air pollution and climate change, and rising demand for innovative and eco-friendly personal transportation solutions.

For Download Free Sample Link Here:-https://www.marketinforeports.com/Market-Reports/Request-Sample/494520

The global hoverboard scooters market is highly competitive, with a number of leading manufacturers competing for market share. Some of the key players in the market include Ninebot, Swagtron, Razor, and Segway.

The market is expected to continue to grow in the coming years, driven by increasing adoption of personal transportation solutions, ongoing innovation in the design and manufacture of hoverboard scooters, and growing demand for eco-friendly and sustainable transportation options. However, the market is also facing challenges related to safety concerns, regulatory issues, and increasing competition from other personal transportation solutions such as electric bikes and scooters.

[cauldron-of-oddities]

I bring fluff! Sugar and spice. I make no apology for this (hopefully not, too) cliche pile sweetness.

I'll stop now.

Have Your Cake and Eat it too

They're at a tiny hole in the wall of a pastry and ice cream shop. No bigger than a single market stall and three tables and six chairs all mismatched. A neon sign flickered nothing but the word “Sweets'' in cotton candy colours. It's in a hidden corner of the Entre Sol, and only by the grace of Jericho did Jinx hear of it after she had an impassioned lament about the lack of desserts to be found in Zaun to the cook.

Jericho had given them directions said something about taking your girl for dessert, which Jinx had completely missed, already thrilled at the prospect of a sugar rush and had Ekko saying thank you with a grin at his girl's antics.

So here they were at this tiny, softly but colourfully lit place, smelling of sugar, butter, fruit, and 6 according to Jinx heaven. As far as Ekko was concerned, it was hell. Sweet, seductive, torturous hell. Why? Because of Jinx.

She was digging into a piece of peach crumble and cardamom ice cream, humming and making a noise he could only call a moan. He swallowed thickly. He almost failed to notice the tall chirean place a slice of lime flavoured cake in front of him, with a great dollop of cream on it. It does look pretty damn good, he had to admit as he takes a forkful. And quite fancy for Zaun. He wondered briefly how their host gotten all her ingredients. Before he could ask the question, let alone take a bite, he saw Jinx zeroing in on his fork.

“Lemme taste!” It's a demand, a non-negotiable aspect of being (boy) friend of Jinx. You will share your sweets, or she may bite you instead. He found out the hard way when he'd tried to keep a bag of caramels hidden.

It's for his own safety he gave in and held it out to her. The noises of delight had previously been bad enough, but her closing in around the bite and the full “Mmmm, ooh, that's sooo good.” Has his mind short circuiting. She looks delighted at the taste and damn if he doesn't imagine going places they've only skirted before with way less clothing at the sound.

His cheeks were hot, and his pants felt tight, and then her tongue peaked out to lick the last bit off. It's hell, sweet glorious hell, and he wants to take her home and to his room and..

“Runterra to Ekko, hey, you ok?” She looks worried. “Don't like your cake?” He hadn't even tasted it yet, quickly shoving a piece in his mouth with the very fork she'd licked.

“I'm fine.” he mumbles and then “You're right it is really good.” Sitting here side by side, with admittedly a tasty dessert and her so joyous makes him want. He shook himself from his thoughts as she told him resolutely. “We are definitely getting dessert here again.”

He was in trouble.

It turns into a new thing at her insistence. After a night out on the hoverboards, a meal at Jericho, they go back to the little hole in the wall for dessert. They go twice more before he's at his wits end. The sounds she makes at first taste, the cursed sensuality with which her mouth devoured the treats, was torture.

The last time they'd picked ice cream cones, and he'd been so distracted by her humming and delicate likking, he'd failed to notice his own ice cream had melted over his hand. Great. With a huff, he'd tried to move his hand to lick it off when Jinx licked from his wrist to pinky in one smooth move. "Good choice!” She said, licking her lips. Before giggling at his expression. “Careful little man wouldn't want you dripping all over the place.”

His clean hand moved to cover his face, and he stifled a groan. She must know what she's doing, right? No, she didn't as he looked at her, having another laugh at his expense and happily occupied by her own treat again. He felt like a coil wound too tight, caught between something bright, bubbling by his heart at her joy, and something hungry and wanting below. Though all the desserts had been cold, he went home burning.

…

He spends a week practically locked in his workshop. And he really does have lots of repairs to catch up on. Jinx, though, seems to think different. “You've.” A pointed finger poking him in the chest. “Been avoiding me.” Followed by another jab for good measure. Jinx has set herself on his work table, blocking him from the disassembled hoverboard. She raises an eyebrow at him. “Do I need to kidnap you again for you to take a break?” At the mention he can still feel her hands running over his back, it still sends pleasant shivers down his spine.

Jinx crosses her arms, and her lips form a pout at his lack of reply “I thought you enjoyed our dates?” Shit, now she looks dejected.

“I do!” He scrambles out. “It's just there's so much to do, and I can't just go off hoverboarding and snacking,.."

“Yes, you can.” Her tone states it like it's the most obvious thing. He's about to protest again. “I'll go get Scar.” It's a threat, and one she means too. How those two had made peace still baffles him.

“No! no need, just let me finish this board?” He already feels wound up a few minutes to ground himself surely weren't too much to ask?

“Just. This. Board. I'll be waiting.” With that, she slaunters off, and he takes a steading breath.

One flight and two fozen dumplings later they're back at the tiny little pastry shop and no sooner than walking in, Jinx's eyes had gone wide as saucers when she'd spied a new cake, tinted pink with white frosting with swirls of bright pink through it, and copper colour sprinkles on top.

“That one!” She's practically leaning into the display case. Ekko lets out a snort at her antics and picks a little fruit tart for himself.

“Back I see.” The chirean behind the counter greets. “I was wondering where you were, wouldn't like to lose my new best customers or entertainment for that matter.”

“Lady, what's entertaining about watching people eat?” Jinx sounds a little incredulous and Ekko's hoping the shopkeeper wasn't implying she'd noticed his discomfort.

“Oh I just enjoy people indulging in my creations.” The way she says indulging has him tossing that hope right out. Grinning at Ekko, she preps their order “Do enjoy.” Embarrassment doesn't begin to cover what he's feeling right now.

Jinx, luckily, is completely preoccupied by her desert.” “It so pretty, like the clouds at sunset! She’s quiet for a moment, and thrn Ekko has never been so thankful for her whims when she blurts out her idea. “Let's go see the sunset!”

“Shall I box that, then?” Seems the shopkeeper is more aware than he is. With a sheepish shrug, he takes the offered box. Jinx quickly pulls him to open space to take off.

They find themselves on one of Zauns highest structures, perched on a ledge, looking at the sky tinged with pink and orange and the dessert box between them.

Jinx's pink eyes glitter, as picks up her cake and takes a bite. Ekko can only call the noise she makes, a moan. Low, drawn out and speaking of nothing but pleasure and then her expression, he swallows thickly at her completely blissed out look.

It's downright sinful, and he's starting to think desserts should be banned from all existence.

He's jolted from his thoughts as Jinx nuges her elbow into his side. She's holding out a finger a dollop of raspberry flavoured buttercream with cinnamon candy sugar flakes on it up to him.

“Try! Is so goooood!” She practically sings. It's too cute, the excitement bouncing off of her, it's infectious, it's the highest honour, Jinx sharing her dessert, and it's the last straw. He blinks, and caution gets flung out the window as the sweetest opportunity for vengeance presents itself.

A slow grin curls his lips as his fingers gently circle around her wrist, rubbing his thumb up and down a few times. Might as well build the tension some for all that she put him through. A breathy “Ekko?” has him looking in her eyes, with a wicked grin, his lips wrap around her finger and languidly runs his tongue over the tip, licking and sucking the icing off. She's right it is delicious, it's sugar and spice, just like her. With a soft plop, he released her finger. Her mouth is slightly open, and he can feel her pulse increasing under his fingers.

She looks like the gears have run stuck in her head. Ekko has to stifle a laugh. “Hmm, missed a bit.” He mumbles, kissing her fingers for good measure. Something like a gasped squeak escapes her, and there's red blooming on her cheeks and going down all the way down her neck and deeper. It's a treat to see.

“Your right. It's really good.” He won't admit just how affected he himself is or how he's enjoying her squirming, trying to stammer something out.

“What?... What was that for?” Jinx finally gets out.

“For sharing.” It makes him feel special. He's probably the sole person on the planet she'd share her sweets with, but he won't say that yet. Instead, he goes for a little payback “It's only fair after all the times you've made me share and watch you enjoy.”

He sees the lightbulb go on. A breathy “oh” leaves her lips, and an awkward little giggle morph into a pleased grin. “You can try some more, if you want” She looks rather hopeful saying that.

He looks at her with a raised eyebrow. Taking a dollop of icing on his finger, he daps it on her nose and kisses it off. He repeats the action, only this time holding up his finger to her lips. Jinx, never one to turn down a challenge, suckles off the icing. No wonder she'd looked so dazed when he'd done that. He feels too warm, and then he's done with all the teasing.

He moves closer to her, and when feeling the box between them, he quickly moves it. (It won't do, to break the spell by Jinx mourning ruined cake.) Hand free again he puts it on her waist pulls her towards him, the other hand goes to the back of her neck and he closes the final few inches between them.

The kiss is sweet release, soft and ardent and with raspberry, and cinnamon on her lips and tongue. His tongue chases and traces hers, all those sweets have left him with a hunger, and finally, it's being satiated. One of her hands tangles into his hair, and the other leans on his thigh. There's an anticipation to it all, and he'd pull her onto his lap if they weren't on a ledge. Eventually, they need to breathe, and it has them pulling apart.

Wide eyes look up at him, “Wanna go home and share some more cake?” She whispers at him.

Fuck, yeah, he'd love to share a whole lot more.

[tearlessrain]

“I can’t believe we have AI and hoverboards this is the future!”

no the fuck we don’t, we have predictive text generators and one-wheeled skateboards with gimmicky marketing. raise your standards.

[thesims3help]

Masterlist - Gameplay enhancing mods pt 2. [100+ Sims 3 mods!]

Part 1 || This is everything that didn't fit in part 1.

Celebrity:

Testers Wanted: Harder Celebrity Difficulty & More (Late Night)

Food/Cooking/Eating/Drinking:

Cooking and Ingredients Overhaul + More Nectar Ingredients

Let them eat cake! - Non-Birthday Birthday Cakes

Toddler Food Bowl

Quicker Cooking & Eating OverRide

Breakfast At Twinsimming's (Update 7/8/23) - No Cooking Overhaul Version

Baby Food Default Replacement

Pasteurize Milk Mod (Update 7/18/23) - Tunable Hunger Motive Delta

Buy Takeout And Order Food At Restaurants

Nectar Combinatorics

No More Acrobatics! - bartending animations tweaks

Better Bartending!

Eat & Put Away Your Leftovers

Coffee Ingredients Made Choosable

Gain Cooking Skill Faster At Work!

Winter Holiday Cookies

Quicker Cooking & Eating OverRide

Pets:

Pets Don't Eat Plants

Bathe Animals Correctly

[Pets] Improved Beloved Pet, and other Animal-Related Traits - 1.63 - 1.67 by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

[Pets] Improved Relationship Gain with Pets by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

New Pet Genetics - No More Skinny Clones

Minor Pets Won't Run Away

Dogs collecting shinies fills Destruction motive

Cats stalking for crawlies fills Scratch motive

University:

Lost & Found: Honors Scholarship (Plus Other Aptitude Test Tweaks)

Write Scholarships for Money

New Scholarships (Update 10/26/23) - Talent Scholarships & No Store Version

Attend University Online (Update 10/26/23) - Wish Fix

University Life Visual Fixes (Send Insulting Text, Texting Idle, Heat of the Moment Kiss)

Studying Tweaks

Jobs/skills:

Check For Work In Rabbitholes

Observatory Assistant -- Part-Time Astronomy Job

Flower Arranging - Interaction and Skill

Knitting for TS3 - Interaction and Skill

Writing, Painting, Gardening, Tinkering More Fun

Study Skills Online V37

Yoga Mod (Update 3/1/23) - New Features!

Scribbling Pad + Buzzler's Scribbling Pad - Fixed

TS2 > TS3 Functional Sewing table [BETA V2.0.0]

Programming Skill

Investment Mod (Update 9/3/23) - MultiTab Compatible

Lost&Found: Stock Market

Sim State - The Sims 3 Open For Business Mini Expansion v1.4

Layoff Mod

Ultimate Careers (Version 4.3)

Objects:

Functional Washboard - Sims 4 Conversion

Harvestable Tree Default Replacement

Same Energy Gain For Every Bed

Super Hampers -- Automatic Laundry Pick Up (Plus Bigger Hampers) by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

Spring Harvest And CookBook

Harvestable Flowers

Better Hoverboards

Canning Station Overhaul

Build/Buy:

One More Slot Please! (with vertical shifting)

[TS3] Catalog Search Mod | Patreon

Add Any Lot Size

TS3 HD Textures Series - Terrain Pack [UPDATE: Fixed road tiling]

No more ugly snowprints

Builder Stuff

Reworked & Improved EA Lights

More Light Coming Through Windows

Other:

Write Thank You Notes Fix

Futuristic Transportation Charge

Advice Social Interactions

Have Sim Arrested Mod

No (or fewer) automatic memories (with custom tool to make your own mod) Edited 01/16/2014

nraas - OnceRead

nraas - Woohooer

Retuned Attraction System

More Traits for All Ages

Lot Population Mod

No Social Groups

Random Sim Fixes 2.0

SetHour Cheat

Let Me Take a Selfie (Update 9/3/23) - Pets Fix

Sunscreen

Burglars Steal Simoleons Too

Tooth Fairy Mod

Dirty Laundry Mod (Update 8/8/23) - Maid & Butler Tweaks

Acne Mod (Update 7/22/23) - Version 2.2

Enhanced Hospitals(Updated 30/1/23)

More Senarios Upon Moving

The Journal Mod

[Public Beta] The Randomizer Mod - REWORKED!

Moar Interactions

DouglasVeiga's Dancer Service

Aging Manager

No Car Relationships

Lightning Enhanced Mod (Lightning in the Sky and Strikes)

Realistically Slower Cars, Taxis, and Bikes

Take Sims To Court - Sue Sims, Become a Lawyer, Have Court Weddings and More!

Social Clubs Mod (+ banking) - Grow Memberships, Push Activities, Make Bank Accounts and More!

Deep Conversations

Sleep on the couch, new interaction

o violet on Tumblr - Pure CAS lighting mod

Reduce/Remove Lag caused by Houseboats

[accio-victuuri]

yuguyao cpns part v. 💕

i swear, this promo period seems more active than ool when it comes to cpn potential and i’m not complaining at all it’s just interesting to see the clues. this will contain some double standard stuff which may not be to some people’s liking so keep that in mind.

We saw the hoverboard again in one of the YGY bts, i would imagine it’s the same one he had during Ace Troops which was allegedly given by WYB. Since XZ isn’t that confident on a skateboard and something like this will be so much better when he needs to do long walks during shoots or if he just wants to have fun. I have so much love for this CPN, because it shows their connection. How they try and be interested in what other likes, even if ZZ did try skateboards before, this is a “compromise”. It’s meeting Bobo’s hobby in the middle.

ZZ rapping in the bts! AHHHHH! Of course this is an obvious CPN to us. We all know who the rapper is. I’m just here thinking about ZZ who might not be partial to rap but started listening to some because of wang yibo, his husband.

SHIYING x XIEYUN technique is same/similar. I guess this is a usual martial arts fantasy move but it’s a happy coincidence cause people have been making edits of them lately and this happens. We don’t even have to make things up at this point. 😂

They match so well!!!!

Moving onto the double standard. I wanna start with a disclaimer that I don’t have anything against his co-star or any of their co-stars in film and tv. Especially if they star as their heroine or partner. I have no problem with a project’s cp promotion because that’s really how it goes. Especially on this show where the plot revolves around SY & ZY connection to each other. It’s okay for them to have “chemistry” with their co-stars because it helps the show. I have no issue with them being friendly with female co-stars because i am happy when they are comfortable in their workplace. lord knows how grueling their shooting schedule so it helps that they can get along with their “office mates” lol.

so now that we have that out of the way, let’s look at this example people are talking about…..

• In this scene where they accidentally fall on the bed, the BTS shows ZZ not holding on to the actress. making sure his hands don’t touch her waist. There are other examples of this and then you have him and WYB, secretly holding hands. lol. I am aware that this is more out of respect, not wanting to seem to handsy with a co-star when the script does not call for it. but well, this is how cpn goes. with wyb, he is comfortable in a different way. there are no boundaries.

• Another one where the actress is obviously flustered by ZZ, and rightfully so. GG is reacting on his own way but still very professional. But when it’s with WYB, there is a sense of 😏😏😏 energy. I guess i’m not the only one on here who did a double take seeing all the BTS between XZ & WYB even before being a cpf. We all tried to brush it off as cp-marketing or editors trying to make stuff out of anything but things just don’t add up.

I don’t know if anyone has ever come up with a heterosexual explanation for all of that especially p3 but till then, it’s bjyxszd 😂😂😂

and oh, their matching wonderful smiles ☺️☺️☺️

-END.

[starry-nights12]

Visions of You

Read on AO3

Rating:Teen and Up Audiences

Relationship:Ekko/Jinx(Timebomb)

Tags:Mutual Pining, Angst, Slight Fluff, Bittersweet

Word count:2,065

Summary:Ekko has never been so happy! His former childhood best friend is back in his life and they finally reunited! Jinx is happy too! She has something to show her appreciation to him.

Authors Note: Big thanks to my friend @a-hams-art for beta-reading! Go check out their art! It's fucking adorable and amazing!🥺💖

Ekko was in his private study; his desk sat behind a window, and the afternoon sunlight shone in the room. 

He could hear the usual commotion of his base: People chatting, and kids were laughing as they played together. Others were hollering as they rode their hoverboards. 

Him and his group were going to be headed out to the markets today. 

He was writing down supplies everyone needed when the door swung open and banged against the wall.

"Hey-o, Ekko!" Jinx exclaimed. 

Ekko flinched and accidentally scribbled on the list, "Jinx! Why didn't you knock?" 

She shrugged, "Because I didn't want to." She kicked the door closed. 

"You're supposed to knock before you enter."He chided lightly. 

She scoffed, "You may be the leader of The Firelights but you don't tell me what to do." 

Ekko rolled his eyes while shaking his head, "What did you come in here for, anyway?" 

"To annoy and bother." 

Ekko huffed, "You definitely got those two parts down." 

She giggled happily. "Thanks. I'll make sure to come by more often.” She smirked. 

Ekko rolled his eyes again with a small smile. 

It's been nearly a week since Jinx joined the Firelight Base. 

His announcement to keep her in their base camp was met with resounding pushback. 

His best friend, Scar, was hesitant to vote for her to stay but he eventually-maybe begrudgingly- agreed. 

Ultimately, they trusted their leader. If anything did happen, they knew he and Scar wouldn't hesitate to protect their community. 

He didn't miss the glares Scar gave the woman whenever he spotted her; Jinx would return the look with just as much malice. 

Most of his people kept their distance away from her. He understood their wariness and expected it. 

To Heimerdinger's credit, he was polite to her when she arrived. He would try to start a friendly conversation with her but his efforts were met with blank stares. 

Even if nobody wanted to involve themselves with her, he wanted her. He was happy to finally be able to reunite with his childhood friend. 

He noticed that she was holding two sheets of paper. "What you got there?" 

She followed to where his gaze was, and her eyes momentarily widened. "Oh! It's-" She held the papers behind her.  

She cleared her throat, "I need to ask you something first before I do." 

"Okay," He shrugged nonchalantly. "What is it?" 

"You said you would be happy that I stayed," She stroked her braid. "And you like me for me. Right?" 

"Of course, you're my friend." He answered. 

She raised an eyebrow, she slightly narrowed her eyes at him, "And you still wanna be my friend?" 

"Of course, I do. I'll always be."He assured. 

She dimly nodded with a small smile. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I made you something," she said softly. 

A smile peeked from his mouth, "Really?" 

"Yeah, you know. Since we're friends now or whatever." She muttered, she placed the two sheets on his desk.

It was a crayon drawing. The tree in their base stood in the background and Firelights surrounded the base in the night. 

Ekko was drawn as a stick figure. He was on his hoverboard and holding his stopwatch with his signature smug grin. 

What else could he do but show her a wide grin? She made something just for him and it happened to be a cute little drawing of himself. 

"This is great, I really like it! Thank you!" He chirped. 

Jinx hummed quietly, "It's a picture of you. I knew you would." She smiled weakly in return. 

His features contorted into a frown and his eyebrows furrowed. 

Something didn't feel right. 

Why is she acting so sullen?

He moved the drawing behind the second sheet of paper. 

Dead enforcers and Sevika lay in a pool of their blood. They all had Xs drawn over their eyes. Their heads were bashed in,had crooked necks, or were filled with bullet holes. 

The drawing that caught his attention the most was Caitlyn's dead body lying in front of them. 

There was blood splattered across them. 

Jinx and Ekko smiling and high-fiving each other with Pow-Pow strapped to her chest and Ekko holding his bloody bat. 

Horns were sticking out from Caitlyn's head, fangs and a forked tongue stuck out of her mouth. Jinx was holding her hair, it was raised proudly like a trophy she won. 

He didn't care about the enforcers of Sevika being depicted in the pile of corpses. It was Caitlyn that surprised him. 

He didn't know her that well. She was a Piltie and an Enforcer. 

Of course, she was stupid to believe that Enforcers were benevolent beings that uphold the law and treated everyone fairly. 

They already harassed or killed Zaunites.The money Silco paid them simply gave them more incentive to do so. 

But she seemed nice enough and she was Vi's friend. He wouldn't have wanted her killed. 

A chill had settled into the room. The hairs on his neck raised and goosebumps appeared on his arms. 

She was sitting on top of his desk. Her searing pink eyes observed his, gauging and calculating, she was cornering him without even needing to touch him. 

She tilted her head to the side. She spoke to him low and slowly, "I thought you would like it," 

She placed her boots on the side of his armrest and the wheels on his chair brought him closer to her. 

"Or, you can give me that one," She held out her hand for the second drawing. "That's your choice, really." 

In other circumstances, he would have found this amusing. But Jinx was being very strange. 

There were no hints of playfulness, her cold stare was dead set on him. She was being entirely serious. 

What the hell?

This is ridiculous. She wants me to make a decision. Over drawings of all things. 

So, I have to choose. One or the other. 

Which one did I like more? 

Which one do I favor?

Recognition flashed in his eyes. 

Where should she sit?

He re-examined the drawings. 

'-JINX' was written in the bottom corner of the second drawing. 

'Powder' was written in the same place on the other one. 

She's really doing this.This is a test.

Her expression had remained neutral throughout the ordeal but her eye and mouth twitched. Her pink eyes blazed as an indication of her growing anger. 

Ekko was the one to unleash this prolonged silence. It was ripping her flesh with its claws and teeth yet he was doing nothing about it. 

It shouldn't have to take this long. If he meant what he said then the decision should have been obvious. 

"Well," She snarled. "What's it going to be,sunny?" She flicked his forehead as hard as she can. 

Ekko clenched his jaw and shot her a glare. 

She thought she was intimidating him but really? He already knew his answer. He was trying to come up with the right way to phrase his words.  

He momentarily closed his eyes and breathed evenly to temper his irritation before he talked. 

He didn't want to lose her again. He couldn't. 

He couldn't bare having her return only for him to fuck everything up with her. 

He was sure that would have made him snapped; punching a wall until his knuckles were bloody and broken and screaming until he lost his voice. 

He was fucking sick and tired of repeatedly failing her. 

He regained his patience and quickly licked his lips. 

"So you think that I have a favorite? That I'm just going to throw it away?" He was able to speak to her calmly. "But honestly? They're both amazing and unique. I love both." 

The sincerity and conviction in his voice rattled her entire body. 

What did he say? He didn't just- no. He did though. I heard him. He said it.

"You-" She swallowed an enormous lump in her throat. "You seriously mean that?" She asked softly. 

He nodded firmly, "You thought about me and took time and effort to make me something. I really appreciate it. One isn't better than the other, you know? 

Sure, they're different but they were made by the same person. And I happen to like that person very much. " His smile was genuinely happy. 

"But there's one thing you did wrong." 

Her hold on his chair slackened with her shoulders easing from their tension. "And what's that?" 

He grabbed his pen and made a quick correction. He held it up to show her.  

She gingerly took the drawing and stared in disbelief at the bottom corner. He crossed out Powder and had written Jinx instead. 

She met Ekko's kind and gentle smile when she looked at him. "It's Jinx. J-I-N-X." 

He stood up. His warm gaze fixed on her. He placed his hand on top of her head and then cradled the back of it. 

The soft rays of sunlight through the window seemed to glow brightly around him. The dust particles in the air looked like glitter at that moment. 

It was nearly angelic. All Jinx could do was marvel in awe at the sight she was beholding. 

The words he wanted to directly say were transferred into how tenderly he held her. 

He used to just want Powder back. 

That night on the bridge, he finally realized that Jinx was Powder. Powder was Jinx. They were both one in the same. 

It was sad that she hated her old self so much that she disassociated with being Powder. She was one of his best friends and they had so much fun together. 

But he didn't bring her to the Firelight base in hopes of changing or fixing her. 

He just missed her. He'll take the good and the bad all in stride. He wanted every last bit of her. They had all the time in the world to create new memories together. 

His words put a strange spell on her that left her transfixed in a trance. Her hands dangled uselessly at her sides as she processed everything. 

She didn't know how she was able to breathe with the number of Cupid's arrows Ekko impaled into her heart. 

Her eyes sparkled with the emotion she didn't dare to speak of aloud. 

He reignited a fuse in her. It electrocuted her like being struck by lightning. She was surprised she didn't die from her injuries. 

She felt it. She felt it so fucking much.

After they finished, she was going to write his name in her diary and write so many Xs and Os and hearts. 

Love. 

That's a strong word. 

What's he trying to say to me? 

Does that mean something? Should I say something back? What would I even say? 

Love. 

He says he loves both. 

Did he just say he-

She minutely shook her head and rapidly blinked out of her stupor. 

She needed to get in touch with reality again. She was eighteen. She knew better than to believe such childish things. 

No. Don't be fucking stupid. Ekko is just a genuinely good guy. 

You're thinking too deeply about this. Gods, you're so desperate. It's disgusting how pathetic you are. 

He's not talking about you, you fucking idiot. He's talking about the drawings.

Tears pooled in her eyes and slid down her face. 

She was incredibly selfish. 

She knew her presence will inevitably cause him more problems yet she came back to him to stay. 

But she missed him. And he told her he missed her too. 

She wanted him more than anything. She wanted to be happy with him. 

He still liked her. 

He valued her as his friend who still cared for her after everything she's done. But that was good enough for her. 

She threw her arms around him and clutched him tightly. He leaned into the hug, his strength matching hers. 

Jinx leaned forward, her hand rubbing his back. His thumb stroked the back of her hair. 

Even though I'm not worthy of his love, Ekko is still perfect. He is absolutely and utterly perfect.

If hugs healed, she’d clasped onto him until their bodies withered and their rotting corpses remained. 

He was too good for her. She'll never be good enough for him. 

She'll only taint him. She'll ruin this one good thing just like everything else in her life.

[chrysoula]

All right. In very recent chapters of The Hollow Sky, I have introduced a 10th Harbinger, La Ruffiana, her lover the corrupted oni Chiyo, and a pair of twins who seem to be around ten (but it's not pinned down), named simply Ragazzo and Fanciulla. It's the twins I want to talk about today.

They're Dottore segments (or clones, perhaps, if those are different things), but also a different kind of experiment: he started with a baby, but actually it was two babies and one was a girl? He made sections to get different perspectives. This was meant to be, "himself, with a sister." But he isn't as tightly connected to them as he is his other segments (which is why 'clones' may be a better term). That was certainly interesting... but babies are honestly kind of boring, and these two were a bit uncomfortable, so when they were two, he sent them to Genshin Siberia to be raised by that flea market Harbinger who had popped up out of nowhere sixty years earlier. One of the things Pierro praised about her was her ability to turn defective garbage into useful resources, after all.

(Dottore Omega has some issues he hasn't worked through.)

Anyhow, he marked them and sent them away to be raised by an ex-Hexenzirkel witch who'd been erased from Irminsul, the 10th Harbinger, verified and vouched for by Damselette. And now they are no longer babies. They are very definitely kids, and kids who might even grow up.

I started writing these two characters without having a solid image of who they were. I knew who they'd been cloned from, I knew they had the same fundamental instability that created Dottore himself, but also that as a pair, as boy-girl twins, they had at least a chance to balance each other. That's what I wanted to explore, anyhow.

As I wrote them, they acquired personality details, and their own individuality. They're not who they seem to be at first apperances, but I think that happens in a good way. And as I moved them into more active scenes, I started thinking about how those personalities were made manifest into the world. How they fought as Genshin characters, basically.

I started out imagining they fought with gadgets and information, because I couldn't imagine mini-Dottores fighting in any other way. (Mad scientists don't get their hands dirty until after they drink the Hyde formula in the last phase.) Eventually, I gave them hoverboards, because I realized I'd always imagined them with a skateboard vibe. So that was movement style settled, which was a help. And then it was time to really think about the details of how they controlled the world around them.

Along the way, I realized that their hoverboards were probably also claymores, but more importantly, they were also keyboards. Consoles. And then... well, actually, that gets into spoilers for stuff I still need to write so I probably should stop here for now. I was going to put in a cut and talk about the details of their personalities but honestly I think discovering them organically is fun and I'm not ready to take that from anybody yet.

Instead, I will just say... I think this version of Dottore would Fit Right In with the rest of the Traveler's Friends cast.

[bartmobile]

i think something we really need to start reminding people of is that AI as we’re currently seeing it used is a marketing term. it’s like those “hoverboards” that have wheels. it’s not really intelligence at all.

[power464646]

theres a lot of woo around machine learning models entirely because people have been calling them artificial intelligence purely as a marketing thing and nobodys stopped this catching on in the common vernacular - even the people against misuse of the technology have taken to calling it ai. its like if people 100% believed wholeheartedly in the face of all evidence that those hands free segways could levitate because theyre called hoverboards

[miloscat]

[Review] Sonic Riders: Zero Gravity (Wii)

They managed to make hoverboards less exciting.

I guess for some reason Sonic Riders was successful because Sonic Team pushed out a sequel two years later. It was published on the PS2 again but also with a version on the Wii this time. The sequel has been streamlined heavily, even dumbed down, but considering my brain was too dumb for the original Riders his may be a good thing.

Just like with Unleashed, the game seems built around motion controls but a PS2 port means it also has a normal play style option. Unlike Unleashed there is no Classic Controller support, only the Gamecube pad is allowed. My preferred method for playing Wii games on my current setup is through the Wii U, but that doesn’t let you use GCN pads in Wii mode even if you have the clunky USB adapter. So I had to break out the old Wii from storage and shuffle it in.

Anyway, once you’re jetting along on your hoverboard you’ll soon be asking where the higher gears are. The pace is slower, the turning more sluggish, the controls simplified. Obviously these are concessions to the famously imprecise Wii remote, but I feel like I’m being punished for Sonic Team’s marketing decisions.

Boosting and drifting have been replaced by new gravity-based moves that pause you in midair as you activate them, and their use is telegraphed heavily such that between their points of use on the track, the returning speed/power/flight sections, trick ramps (also simplified to just timing one button press), and miscellaneous gimmicks, there’s barely any of the track left for just racing.

Other new mechanics include cashing in rings mid-race to modify your board, allowing on the fly decision making and a good use for the rings you pick up (falling off the course is also much less common this time around, so you won’t lose them as often). These upgrades can up your speed or gravity meter, or change your board configuration into eg. a bike or glider. You can’t actually interact with your class-specific gimmicks until you enable this so it does kind of feel like they handicap you at the start to make this worthwhile.

I didn’t mention this in the Riders review but that game had a lot of interaction between racers. You could attack them by boosting; that’s gone outside of a specific item pickup. There was also a sort of catch-up mechanic where you could surf on half-pipe slipstreams, it was actually a huge part of the game that I blanked on. Anyway that’s been drastically reduced in this game too. So the other racers are just sort of there and they’re not much of a threat either, their biggest impedance being competing with you for ring trails.

I did complain (a lot) about Riders’ high level of difficulty but Zero Gravity goes a bit too far in the other direction, making for a breezy jaunt through the campaign. Not that I minded too much actually being able to complete the story. The unlocked mission mode I was also able to reliably clear—a nice change of pace—and can even offer higher tier challenges if you’re inclined. It’s a better balance.

The story itself is a little more interesting than the first game, with some twists and turns as Sonic & buds, the Babylon Rogues, and Eggman investigate magic bracelets from space, a robot rebellion, and the origins of all life on Mobius(??), or something. How it actually plays out is meandering and silly but that’s fine too. The final boss is some kind of ancient alien robot or something, but the fight against it is dull as ditchwater on a straight line track with little interactivity that is also easy to fail due to timing out.

The tracks try to be varied in their environments but with all the gimmicks having to be forced in and a near-universal tech-y look to the actual track surfaces they can feel very samey. Even the “Sega celebration” tracks are just a city with some reference-laden billboards rather than a tour through different game worlds. The variant tracks do have totally distinct layouts this time for what it’s worth.

I’m conflicted about Riders at this point. The first game showed some promise but the tuning was way off. Zero Gravity is an overcorrection that while technically more playable throws out the baby with the bathwater, becoming bland as a result. But hey maybe they’ll finally get the balance right on the third game, which was [checks notes] a Kinect exclusive… [tugs collar]. Never mind.

[get-thee-to-a-shrubbery]

welcome to the future! we have hoverboards! no not like that. also we have ai! no not like that. basically any science fiction term you hear us talk about is just marketing-speak for something much lamer and less advanced.

[i-was-bored-so-this-happened]

Second Star Chapter Fifteen: The Fireflies

Fandom: The Mandalorian Wordcount: 4.6k Warnings: Description of injury

Okan, Mando and the child land on a forest planet. Okan and the child struggle with the effects of planet-hopping, and to distract herself Okan returns to gardening. After a close call with a bounty hunter, Mando takes care of Okan for a change

AO3 Link Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Writing Masterpost

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Okan is pursuing a ridiculously frivolous endeavour. Alright, that’s not the phrasing Mando’s going to use when he sees it, but they’re the longest words she can think of to describe the thoughts that will roll around his helmet when he sees it. He’s been gone for almost two weeks now, but he’d sent a message through the commlink he’d given her four planets ago to tell her that he should be back before dark today. He’d been reluctant to give her the comm, it ties him to Okan and the kid, but a couple of months ago he’d come back from a job early in the morning and she’d attacked him out of surprise. She’d landed some good hits, but he thought it best to prevent it from becoming a repeat event.

At least she’s kept the floor of the hull clean, covered in the biggest tarpaulin she could find, he can’t yell at her for that. On the tarp, she’s amassed an impressive collection of paint cans, buckets and empty ration tins. As per Mando’s stipulations, she had waited a week before going to the town market and had only paid with Mon Calamari credits. She’d used her cranky old hoverboard to transport all her purchases herself because Mando had lectured her about trackers on commercial hoverboards. It had taken a while to go back and forth from the market to the ship to the market, meandering aimlessly through the forest for the first three-quarters of an hour to throw off any potential followers, but she’d done it. Four sacks of compost - two dry and crumbly and two moist and dark - packs of draining rocks and drip waterers and plant food, and a crub. The portable kind can rarely be relied on, all spindly metal and plastic, so she’d shored it up with rust-resistant scrap metal and set it up in the kitchen. She’d sacrificed one of Mando’s screwdrivers to punch drainage holes into her chosen containers and spent the last few days potting. Some vegetables she’d found in that same market, some self-seeds she’d pulled out of fruit before giving them to the baby and some flowers she’d uprooted from the woods just outside of the ship. Forest planets are her favourite for the sheer density of life held on the surface.

They’ve been planet-hopping for months. The longest they’ve stayed anywhere is sixteen days, on a ring planet so full of droids and cameras they’d hardly left the ship. Sleep schedules are nonexistent with so many different time zones to keep up with and Okan’s been nursing a headache for the past three days but for now, elbow-deep in dirt, she doesn’t feel too bad. The baby is in the cubby with his wooden snake, still awake. Still. Awake. He’s getting better at sleeping when Mando’s not around, but the constant travel has him all turned around too. Okan’s managed to keep up a steady stream of stories and she’s only hoping he doesn’t notice she’s repeating rhymes. She has no energy for games. At least when she’s doing this she can sit on the floor. Pull one can towards her, fill it with the layers of rock and soil and food and eventually the plant and then shove the can aside to prepare the next one. It’s repetitive work, but it’s nice, using her arms and skills she hasn’t employed for close on nine months.

The hull door creaks and cranks down into position. Okan pulls her hands from the current pot and claps the soil off them, rubbing the back of her hand on her cheek for good measure before she stands and ties her cloak into a sling for the baby.

“What fresh hell is this?” Mando, at the bottom of the ramp. A body is slung over his shoulder like a bag of rice. Okan tries to keep the baby facing in towards her stomach as she settles him in the sling.

“Mando, we talked about this.”

“We did not.”

“About you bringing dead bodies back while the baby’s awake.”

“He’s not dead,” Mando tells her, doing a little jump on the spot to jostle the body. It groans and a leg kicks out, but Mando catches it, “Yet.”

“He doesn’t know that!”

“Would you rather I leave our fuel money in the forest?” Mando counters in that dry, unimpressed way. Okan sighs, blowing air up past her nose and into stray hairs that are propelled upwards for a moment. The baby, fascinated, tries to grab the tendrils of hair. “There’s a clearing about five minutes back. Take him there while I deal with this. Why is he still awake, anyway?”

“It’s the planet-hopping,” Okan answers, pulling off one glove to wrap tendrils of warmth from one of the lights around her fingers. She’s brought this up before and ended up in a bad spat with the Mandalorian. The subject, paired with their tiredness, has made their silences spiky “His little body doesn’t know what time it is anymore, he’s getting overtired and then oversleeping-”

“Now is not the time-”

“-We need to stay somewhere, Mando, actually stay. Just as we adjust we move again, I...we can’t keep up with this.”

“I told you to leave.”

There’s a moment. That swift, silent battle between Mando and Okan that always takes place when he gives her some kind of order. It’s always silent, but it’s always fierce. It always looks so one-sided, too, the tin can not giving any indication of what Mando’s thinking while Okan is utterly unable to hide any emotion she experiences. The being over Mando’s shoulder groans again, and Okan surrenders. Still, she stalks rather irritably past Mando,

“Barshtok.”

“Hu’tuun.”

Insults are traded, and the baby whines in confusion, not understanding why the adults aren’t happy to see each other. Behind her, there’s a scream. Okan flinches, her shoulders hunching over as she holds her hands over the baby’s ears and starts mumbling an old prayer. Her eyes sting. The sound of fists hitting metal fades as the trees do. The clearing’s an illusion of peace, but it’s at least a prettier illusion than the salt flats on the last planet. There’s no peace anymore, not really. Planet-hopping’s no good for anyone. Okan sits down when she reaches the middle of the clearing. She only lets go of the child when he starts writhing and complaining about being held. The little ball of light she’d collected bobs above his head as he explores this new terrain. He might be full of energy, but Okan feels as if her bones are full of freshly-churned cement. There’s a shrill noise, perhaps a bird.

“Bara. Drop it.” The distress call stops, and a sound that’s halfway between guilty and apologetic replaces it before a bird takes off from the ground, squawking. “Thank you,” The orb of light bobs along as the baby flees the scene of his own crime. Okan picks a strand of grass that had been tickling her elbow and tears it into strips as long as her hand. She picks the widest of these, holds it tight between her thumbs, lifts it to her lips and blows hard. The effort brings an edge to the dull pain in her head but she’s rewarded when a high, sharp, almost deafening sound comes from it, like a bird call but less scared than the one she’d just heard. The baby stops in his tracks, makes one of his curious little noises, and starts trundling back towards her, babbling away. As the grass quacks again, he pops up at Okan’s feet. He’s smiling, and there’s no way Okan can’t smile back. She reaches out to rub his head with her gloved hand, but pauses when she notices the little insect trekking its way along the join between his ear and his head. Okan holds a single finger out to it, and the insect crawls onto the glove where her fingernail would be, “See this? It’s a Tuli-bug. Rest of the galaxy calls ‘em fireflies,” Okan tells him, watching as it makes its way up her finger. She waits until the child’s fully focusing on it and then blows gently on the bug. Startled, it takes off, and as it takes flight its rear end glows yellow. The light reflects in the child’s wide eyes, and he watches it like a cat waiting to pounce on a mouse until the insect dives back down into the grass. The child runs after it, wanting to find it, and disturbs other fireflies as he squeals through the grass, leaving a glowing trail behind him. Okan laughs as he runs, but stops when she realises what he’s really running to. Then she turns back around and pulls her knees to her chest, looping her arms around them.

“Hey, kid. Are you, uh, having fun?” The child gabbles on and on, giving Mando an answer he can never understand, “That sounds. Great.” The child, thrilled by the offering of conversation, goes on even louder and more enthusiastically. He’s winding up again and the idea of staying awake for another night cycle has Okan pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes. The child scuttles past her when he’s done talking to Mando and back into the grass

“Shik’da, ha’be.” Okan passes her covered hand over his head when he passes and flicks her ungloved fingers to send the ball of warmth after him. Mando shuffles through the grass, hardly lifting his feet. She watches another firefly wander up her arm, battling the headache that’s trying to split her skull in two. Eventually, Mando decides to sit down, and lands maybe two feet away from Okan. The firefly takes off. Fresh silence punctures the faux peace of the clearing while they watch the child trundle about. 

“You’re right.” He says. Quietly. Like very distant thunder that may or may not be real.

“I’m right about a lot of things, but you don’t tend to say it.”

“I’m not saying it again.”

“What was I right about?”

“Planet-hopping,” Mando admits. The baby squeals as he races after more fireflies, rustling through the grass and flushing even more of the bugs out, “It’s not good. For the kid,” Okan waits for him to continue in the short, simple sentences she’s used to, “I’ll take the trafficker into the town tomorrow and we can stay here for a while.”

“Stay?” Okan echoes, trying to coax more out of him and letting herself look at him now. He stares resolutely ahead.

“In the woods. Until the money runs out. Or the Guild finds us,” he explains, “Maybe a few months. It’s quiet here. Relatively safe. Out of the way.” Okan lets the following silence hang to show that she recognises this decision and is grateful for it before she speaks,

“Thank you, Mando. For listening.” She doesn’t need to say any more. The best way to respond to Mando is in the way he speaks to her: short statement to short statement, long explanation to long explanation. Silence softens. 

A giggling, squirming, weight slams into her. The child, trying to hop up and onto her legs or into her arms and instead knocking her over. There are twin shrieks as she tips, both from Okan and from the surprised baby. The shrieks turn to laughter, loud, genuine, joyful laughter as Okan catches hold of the baby and falls back into the grass. As they disappear into the green, a cloud of glowing yellow fireflies billows up around them. Okan stays where she falls, laughing hysterically. The child, figuring out that this is a happy reaction, squeals with her. Okan misses trees. She misses rolling around in the long grass and flattening it, unable to shake of the giggles. She misses making Tuli-bugs light up and making grass whistles. So that’s what she does.

***

The moons have risen fully now. Okan knows she’ll be in almost complete darkness, but Mandalorian armour isn’t so easily disguised under moonlight. There are four or five black dots on his helmet. Okan adjusts her bag and moves closer to him, “Can I touch your helmet? Not to remove it. Don’t nod or shake, just...yes or no.”

“Yes.” He sounds confused, but he agrees, so Okan shuffles closer and slowly reaches towards the tin can. She rests the back of her hand against the helmet until the little family of fireflies crawls onto her knuckles.

“Tiene-tuli,” Okan taps the left side of her chest, where a human heart would be, and holds the insects up for Mando to see as they travel up to her thumbnail, “Tuli-bugs.” She does the same thing for him as she’d done for the baby, blowing air towards the insects until they glow yellow and take off, looking for a more sheltered place to land. Another firefly drifts lazily between Okan and Mando, their heads turning to follow its path. Mando’s head turns. Okan watches the side of the helmet and wonders what his face is doing. Not what it looks like, but what emotion it’s conveying. When he’s annoyed his knee pops out and his head tilts to the right and when she confuses him the helmet twitches left. When he’s angry he looks down at her with his hands on his hips like an elder giving her a good scolding. When she’s done something right he gives one of his tiny nods and sometimes when she makes him laugh she hears cracks of it through the modulator. She still doesn’t know his tell for when he’s smiling.

“What exactly were you doing in the hull?” he asks a short while later. It’s too dark for them to remain outdoors and they’re almost back to the ship. 

“They won’t stay in the hull. There’s a space marked out in the galley for them. It’s food, mostly…” Okan stoops to allow her fingers to follow the curl of a fern, “I wanted something to do with my hands, and I missed using them with the earth. They’ll freshen the air on the ship, and they’ll look nice,” she can’t quite come up with a reason for the plants that she thinks Mando will agree with, but she looks at him all the same with her plea. Her eyes are dark and deep and hold the image of more fireflies that are crawling over Mando’s helmet, “Can I keep them?” 

“You used your wages on the plants?”

“Well, on the soil and the-” she stops herself and backtracks, “Yes. Yes, I did. But I followed all the rules. Calamari credits, misdirection in the woods.”

“Then it would be a waste of money to get rid of them. And a waste of your time potting them.” There’s the nod. Agreement. Okan smiles and the firefly reflections in her eyes squish into stars. Her hand finds his elbow, the fabric between plates of armour, and she squeezes it tight for a split second before letting go to tap the column of her neck twice with two fingers. The latter gesture is Nokanish and shows gratitude, conveying deeper thanks than the words themselves. The other gesture, the hand on his elbow, carries no cultural message that he’s aware of. It’s something she likes to do on rare occasions: a squeeze of the elbow, nudge of a foot, flicking her fingers against his beskar to hear the ting sound and smile at it. In the cockpit, when she wants to look at what he’s doing, she sets her forearms on the back of his chair and leans over him, and once or twice her fingers have trailed over his shoulder and onto the fabric of the cowl that sits about his neck. He hasn’t been able to find the reason behind it yet, hasn’t asked. She’s learned how to read the movement of his shoulders for the most part and always withdraws the moment he tenses, taking the baby with her if he’s sitting on Mando. At this moment, as the Razor Crest comes into view and Okan sends her light back to its source, the baby flops over Mando’s arm and waves his hands in the air. Still awake, damn him.

“I’m not lifting all those pots for you.” Mando tells Okan as they step back into the hull. He throws the switch to close the door and lights flicker on.

“I’ll manage,” Okan assures him, adjusting her cloak. When she turns her back on Mando he sees she’s modified it into yet another iteration of a sling, one he’s seen before that holds the baby close to her back, “Pop him in so he won’t bother you.”

“I can take him while you do this.”

“It’s alright, he might fall asleep if I keep him still and warm,” Mando slots the baby into place, then holds him there while Okan tightens the straps to secure him, “Might. Besides, you’ve been gone for almost two weeks, you need rest too.” Well, the child does seem content. He’s not complaining about his new perch at least, making small ooh sounds when Okan squats to pick up a bucket. She doesn’t show any struggle with the weight, and by the looks of the containers none of them should be too heavy for her by Mando’s estimations. She’s strong, but she knows her limits. She turns back to Mando with a pleased expression and the large bucket held in front of her, “Goodnight, Mandalorian.”

Mando tracks through the ship to resume routine, checking on every crate and door and tool. He doesn’t move them from wherever Okan has put them, he’s just making sure they’re still there. There’s a screwdriver he’d left on the workbench he can’t see anymore, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. She doesn’t touch the cockpit when he’s gone, so his tour through it before he retires to his room is brief. During his scans of the ship he does pass Okan several times, but she doesn’t try to engage him in conversation. She has said goodnight and marked the end of their time together - they exist in their own individual space until the morning. Her exchanges with the child are low and lilting, trying to lull him into sleep. Mando can hear them pass his door when he’s in his room. Okan goes back and forth and back and forth from hull to galley and back again with each plant while Mando strips himself of armour and settles to studying his datapad. He can tell when the baby finally falls asleep, because Okan finally stops talking. She shuffles up and down for a few hours yet before the door to her own room slides open and closed, and then Mando can’t hear anything.

***

The plants are restricted to the galley for about a month to adjust to their new homes and surroundings before Okan starts to move them around. The first is a plant in the refresher, a tiny thing in a ration tin she suspends from a hook in the ceiling that releases a pleasing smell when the water showers run. Then a second ration tin set between the two sinks in the same room that’s only allowed to stay because Okan has promised it won’t climb up the wall as it grows. Several have been relocated to Okan’s own room, the ones that will produce colourful buds, lined up along the blank wall opposite the door. A couple of pots, heavier ones that can be attached to the walls via hooks or ropes and trusted not to slide around during jumps, have made it into the corridors. Between them, the child’s toys and Okan’s blankets, it’s now fairly obvious that other people live on the Razor Crest. Mando’s been avoiding thinking about how he feels about that in case it’s angry. He doesn’t have reason to be angry at them. 

He’d listened to Okan and they’d stayed on the forest planet for several weeks more. For the most part, they stay on the ship in the woods. After completing each job he manages to root out Mando moves the ship to a new region of the planet so they don’t risk becoming fixtures as they had in Sorgan. Unfortunately, there aren’t many jobs to be had but he and Okan are experts at the art of laying low and finding menial tasks to fill their days. She doesn’t object to moving over the planet’s surface as much as he’d worried she would, rather she relishes having new spaces to explore. She always does, no matter what sort of planet they land on, but he can see forest planets are something special to her. He’d have to be blind not to see that. 

Once she has their routine down, she sticks to it like glue. Every morning, the first Mando hears of her is when a door creaks open and he leaves what he’s doing to find her sitting on the hull door or directly on the grass in her nightclothes, her eyes closed and her face upturned to the sun to absorb the light and warmth. If uninterrupted, she’ll sit like that until the child wakes up. Mando never interrupts her. Through the rest of the day he can mostly track her by sound as she talks to the baby, and if she goes out of earshot she tends to leave her commlink open so Mando can hear if there’s any trouble. So far, there hasn’t been. Mando himself does as he always does: tidies the ship, cleans his armour, maintains the repairs, works out their next three or four bolt holes for whenever they have to leave this place. 

Today he’s woken from a few hours of stolen sleep in the cockpit by Okan’s voice, as he so often is. The difference this time is that it’s coming through the commlink. She’d left with the child in the morning, but now the sun hangs low and blood-red in the sky.

Mando. Mando, she stretches out the first syllable in the sing-song voice she uses when she doesn’t want to alarm the baby, wake up and let us in…I really hope you’re asleep and not just ignoring us, the comm is in her chair so he pushes himself upright to twist around for it, but spies movement out of the windows ahead of him, Aha! You moved. You see us? She’s waving from where she stands at the treeline, big arcs of her arm over her head. It’s a good thing her cloak is red, it’s what distinguishes her from the woods. Mando scoops up the comm her voice is still filtering through,

“I see you. Disengaging ground safety protocols.” he tells her. Confusion sprouts when he sees Okan check her surroundings before she moves, and when she does she darts from tree to tree. It’s odd. 

Got a blaster on you? Just in case? She asks, as though there’s any world in which Mando isn’t armed at all times. The question is more than enough to alarm him. He doesn’t ask why, just drops down the ladder and triggers the door. He slinks down the ramp, pulse rifle ready. Okan moves quickly, zig-zagging through the trees. 

“What am I looking for?” he asks when she steps onto the ramp. He chances a single glance at his companion - the child is held tight to her side and seems fine, but Okan’s hair is falling messily out of her hood and past the shadow of the fabric he can see bruises. “Who?”

“A hunter,” her voice still warbles up and down and he understands now, if she sounds panicked the baby will panic. She moves swiftly past Mando to put the child in the cubby, up in his hammock, and closes the door on him before taking up position behind Mando and peering over his shoulder. With the close of the cubby door her voice straightens out again, “Guild. She’s dead, but I don’t know if there’s anyone else. I’m not sure we weren’t followed, so I thought I should get you out here-”

“You thought right.” Mando tells her. He steps backwards, and she moves with him. She closes the door when she’s told to do so and Mando climbs up into the cockpit. They’re off the ground within three minutes, and sub-light within seven. Okan opens the door to the cubby but the baby’s comfortable in his hammock so she leaves him in favour of sinking down onto the bench by the hole in the wall herself. Steadying her breathing, she pulls her bag onto her lap. When she hears the rattle that signals Mando dropping back down into the hull she lifts her head and lets her hood fall. Blood leaks from a cut through her eyebrow like oil.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” Mando asks. 

“We went back to the pond. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have gone back and we stayed too long-”

“Okan.” He doesn’t sound upset or angry, just trying to keep her on track. 

“It wasn’t that we’d been seen and reported, she had a fob,” Okan finds the thing in her bag and tosses it to Mando. She’d crushed it under the heel of her boot but he can still see what it was. Her medical pack follows the fob’s path out of her bag and she starts probing uncertainly at her face with one hand to find where the most pain is. There’s a bad scratch on her leg just above her knee, her trousers ripped, “Sprout didn’t get hurt, just scared,” The third item to be pulled from the bag is undoubtedly the weapon that had inflicted the wounds, complete with Okan’s black blood drying on the blade. The handle is slightly curved for ease of grip and the blade is roughly the length of Okan’s arm. It holds three waves in the metal. Mando’s heard various names for these types of swords of course, but the simplest that Okan will understand is a flame-blade, the metal imitating the wiggling of a lively candle. She hands the sword over to Mando, who puts it in the weaponry case on the wall. Out of the baby’s reach. “Oh damn.” Okan has found the cut on her face and seems surprised by the blood. She pokes around it to try and figure out how big and how deep it is, but she’ll struggle without a mirror. Mando steps from being in front of the weapons cabinet to standing in front of Okan and holds out his hand. Her eyes flick up to the helmet, a little confused, but then she tilts her head further up and lets Mando prop the orange ends of his gloved fingers under her chin.

Her medpack is open and well organised, it’s not difficult to find what he’s looking for: clean cloth, damp wipes, something in a dropper that prevents infection that he can’t remember the name of at this precise moment. With one hand he holds her chin and with the other he cleans her face. Wipes away the dirt of the day to better see the evolving colours of the bruises, harder to make out through brown skin. She lets him. She doesn’t even say anything, just looks up at him and stares at the helmet in that way that almost tricks him into thinking she can see his eyes. She does her best not to frown when he reaches the cut through her eyebrow and instead clenches her jaw, purses her lips. He’s gentle, pausing between wipes and drops to let her breathe the pain out. He has to clean that side of her face again once he’s smoothed a sticking plaster over the scratch because of how much it had bled. 

“I’m sorry you got hurt.” Okan can count on one hand the amount of times Mando has outright apologised, said the words I’m sorry in the time she’s known him. His voice is as soft as the movements of his hands. He’s got that caring tone about him again. She lifts two fingers and taps her neck. Thanks.

[cauldron-of-oddities]

Crows are social and likes to be in groups, but owls prefer to be alone or in pairs. What I'm saying is, when Ekko is changed there's only one person (bird) allowed to break his solitude, or he'll get moody.

High Up in the Branches

Owls, it turned out, had exceptional hearing along with excellent eyesight. This, combined with someone who likes to tinker on his own (with one exception) and a heart that was just a little too giving, ment the world was sometimes just a bit too much. Today already felt like a lot, and respite proved hard to find.

He'd seek out high perches where he could be alone for a while. Today's choice had been the market before it got started, a novel quiet view of a place usually so busy. Early morning was the only time there was a lull in Zaun. Everyone was either asleep or drunk. From the afternoon on the market stalls would come to life bartering and promoting their wares, the shops would open up, and the food stalls would cook up a storm of scents.

A loud crash had him winching. The cause had been an enforcer pushing someone who passed by a bit too close into a stall. His feathers bristled, and the wooden pole he was perched on, he was sure, had a new set of groves. Luckily, it seemed everyone was all too eager just to move on, but the undercurrent of tension that was creeping in was worrisome.

Agitated with too much on his mind, he sought somewhere else to sort his head.

First, he went to Benzo's attic. The window was easy to open with a little contraption he and Powder had designed. The shadowy room offered him exactly what he needed. Calming down on the window still, he considered his anger, how he'd like to act, but for now, it would result in too much trouble. Instead, he opted to get productive another way; tinkering on the hoverboard.

Was it a needed device? Maybe not. But, to fly when human, meant you could when injured or you could carry your loot and finds back, and it would divert attention from the birds. About to shift, the attic hatch opened. “Ahha, thought I heard you there boy, excellent timing, I have a job for…” Benzo never got to finish his sentence, with a hooted huff he flew off.

Next, he went home. Perhaps he could read to take his mind off of things. But this was too quiet. The long hours his parents worked were getting worse, and being here when they should be too and weren't was wrong. With no distraction whatsoever, it was his head that became too noisy. Sitting on the back of a chair, the emptiness of the apartment had him leaving again. He decided he did want company, seeing a flash of blue in his mind.

The roof of the Last Drop was empty, Powder was the only one ever to come up here with some frequency. That having been said, as of late every time he'd come by for a visit, her entire family would be constantly checking up on them. Maybe today would be alright.

He only has to wait a little while. She appeared soon enough on the roof. He lets out a few happy hoots as a greeting. “Hey Ekko. Need to get away for a bit?” He nods. "Hmm, me too.” She flung her legs over the edge of the roof beside him. It's comfortable sitting like this with her, he'd like for her to pet him, alas he does not share her gift for speech, but his fidgeting has her attention and with that he feels her scratch his chest plumage, the extra soft feathers he'd been informed.

All's right with the world, letting the happiness of being with her rush through him.

It's short lived though as Claggor calls out. The taps are broken. She promises that she'd be right back and she is, only then Vi's there popping up to say hello to him and then Vander with drinks, just to check, and then Mylo teasing her “Hey, quit cuddling with your boyfriend, tables need wiping.” throwing a rag at her. “He's my friend.” She calls after Mylo.

He's bristling again, he wanted some time to himself, he wants her to himself, and that remark has him feeling a twisting churning mess of feelings. “Sorry.” She shrugs with a sigh as she gets up to go down.

With a heave, he flies off. Today was not to be his. And he's feeling all sorts of trapped in his own skin. He needs a distraction. It's a quick flight to the pipelines and tunnels, a favourite spot for air surfing. It had not a wise idea, it turned out. Lost in thought, he'd gotten lost himself.

First things first, get out of the tunnels. From there, you can fly up and out. In the distance, almost as bright as Powder's blue, he sees the tell tale green of firelights, where they are, there must be a way out. As he gets closer, there's not just a few of them, but a whole swarm, its enough to blind him for a moment.

When he breaks through the sight that greets him, is one from a story book. A great tree, tall as a tower, fully green, with reaching twisting branches surrounded by the flickering glow of the firelights. It's magical.

Ekko lands on a sturdy branch close to the trunk of the tree, hidden between the green and browns, where he finally relaxed. The soft buzzing of the firelights and a rustling breeze are the only noise. It was heaven to his sensitive ears and eyes as he took in the view.

The flutter of wings approaching and slowing alerts him to company. Could he get no quiet to sort out his thoughts? Debating on whether he should shift back to his human form, he sees Powder land and shift beside him on the branch and change in a lovely whirl of blue.

“Sorry I followed you, you looked so ruffeld I couldn't just leave you.” Her fingers run over his head and the long tufts, his annoyance instantly soothed. She looked around, the awe on her face much like he was feeling a moment ago. She turned to him with a soft smile on her face.

He knew Powder loved it, the noise and boisterous chaotic and creative nature of Zaun, but she too knew the need to sometimes get away from it all. Too much input could leave you feeling fried or rather unwanted input could.

“What's eating you? You don't need to answer, but ya know if you want to talk…” She trailed off. He does, but it's all stuck. He wants to tell her everything from his worries about his parents to the strained undercurrent he'd felt in the streets to how he feels. He badly wants to tell her how she makes him feel. Instead, he puffs up and deflates. “Bad day, huh, I know those. Want me to go?”

No, he wants her to stay. He wants her comfort. He tries to vocalise the feeling as best as he can.

His hoot did not sound that pathetic, did it? The sound is small and a bit panicked as he flaps his wings in protest to her leaving. “Ok, ok, I stay.” She's laughing now, shit, this is embarrassing.

She looks out through the leaves and down to the clearing. “It's pretty here.” Is all she said as she resumed petting him and softly humming.

He's not sure how long they sit like that, the peacefulness of where they are finally sinking into him. With a stretch, he changes back, “Thanks, Blue.”

“Feel better?”

“Hard to remain moody when my favourite Blue is here.” She gives him a shove for that, even as her cheeks dust pink.

He looks out over the clearing charmed by the bugs and the tree.

“This would be a good place to nest.” He trails off before he realises what he said. “I mean rest. To take a break.” Now he feels the warmth rise to his face, one hand hiding his face. She's giggling as he looks at her through his fingers.

“Woa, getting way ahead there. You don't even have a partner yet.” Is he imagining it, or did that sound wistful?

“But yeah, it's nice here, and it would be a good place to build something, I mean, it looks old but sturdy.” She's pointing to a platform a little below them. It would be an awesome place for a treehouse. He agrees. “We could probably rig some of the pipes around here for some plumbing. It could be a workshop of sorts for when we need some space.” Seeing her light up thinking of all the projects they could do, it made his insides feel like an entire flock of sparrows wanted to fly out.

He'd always known how he felt about her. In this moment, it hits him with a startling amount of want. Powder, his best friend, his cleverest friend, his prettiest friend. Powder, who was becoming more lovely by the day, who was embracing her inner daredevil and mischievous nature, and it made him want all the more.

He wants to hold her hand when they're out, to bury his nose and beak in her neck, and he wants to put his hands in her hair and preen her feathers. He'd also very much like to kiss her.

Her head leans his chest, and his heartbeat picks up a little. Would everything change to have it spoken? Would this remain the same? How did he tell her? That he was head over heels for her.

This was fun and a good chance to set the scene for a bit more.

@2btheanswertothequestion hope you enjoy it, and part 2 is in the making.

[captaindibbzy]

I realise for people who have not been following me for so long they forgot a time I wasn't haunting their dash "my dad is getting weird shit off the Chinese" probably sounds bizzar.

Part of living with my dad is witnessing him go through phases, and some time ten years ago he got really in to Lazer cutters. While looking on eBay for things he got in touch with a company based in China that sells Everything. Just EVERYTHING.

They had something like 7 Lazer cutters just hanging around in a warehouse. When you order things from china it is exported and ends up in the UK it can not be shipped back to china, but by UK law they must accept returns of everything they sell online. So what do you do with all that stuff? Mostly it goes to landfill, but it needs to go somewhere first. You can't just ship it to the dump, and if they let you keep everything and gave you your money back it would be a bad business model.

So these Lazer cutters are sitting in a warehouse after being returned, usually for being broken but we'll get to that in a bit. Dad says, well you can send them to me, I'll look at them, see if I can fix them, and if I can I will. I'll sell them, and then I keep some money, you get some money.

Better than shipping things directly to the dump, so they say sure. He gets these Lazer cutters and for about a year our spare bedroom is full of Lazer cutters. And he does as he said, he checks them out, enjoys fixing them, or if they can be fixed he camabalises them to fix others. One I remember had a broken glass tube so the cooling didn't work, but it still had plenty of bits. He took it apart and sold the bits. He kept some money, and he sends the money on.

They get talking about other things in the warehouse and dad reaches this agreement with them where if they let him know they can send him electronics and he'll have a go at fixing them, and he'll sell them and split the cash.

Except it doesn't quite go like that. As mentioned they are Chinese and English is not their first language, so we start getting some Really Weird Shit. Memorable things include: a preserved rose, jewellery, a hammock with built in mosquito net, cheep lights (including one that has a hovering globe), and on one occasion a huge box of reusable physio bandages. Oh! There was the hoverboards. That was fun and also deadly.

Then one day they send us two pallets of projectors. I mean some poor sod in a lorry had to reverse down my very residential street to deliver two pallets to "the warehouse at [number][road]" which we are not. At which point dad gets in touch with them and says no, you can't just send me everything you don't want to sell yourself, or things that aren't electronic.

We have these projector's for years. We try selling the every which way. eBay, Facebook, giving them people. We saturated the local market with these projectors at a time when projectors themselves are very much going out of style as huge LCD TV's are getting cheep. We still have one or two somewhere in the house.

Things slow down for ages and we don't get many things for a while. We start getting letters though. Due to a change in UK tax law this company, which is more like a lot of companies in a trench coat, need a UK address to send mail to and dad does that. The letters come in and he sends them pictures of it so they can know what is said.

Then suddenly a few months ago they woke up from a hiatus that has been going on since the pandemic and started sending us things again. At first this is fine, electronics, things dad can fix. We've had half moon lights, phone screens, hair dryers, etc. Then the weird stuff starts creeping in again: the huge mechanical clock, the mirror made to look like a window. There's the very cute little kettle the other day. They sent dad a thermos for Christmas which was very nice, like an actual gift, not a return.

And today the rubber mouth with tongue that I do not want to Know.

I said above that most things are returned because they are broken, which is why they get sent here. Broken, dad fixes, then sold on. But actually most stuff that arrives comes in either perfectly functional order or cannibalised.

The working order stuff I figure people ordered cheep shit and wondered why they got cheep shit. Some doesn't fit UK regulation (the plugs on some of these devices! My god!)

But the cannibalised stuff is very interesting. Before we left the EU we'd get packages from all over Europe and Germany was the worst for this. People buy a device, take it apart, take out the part they need, then return it to the company saying the device doesn't work and they want their money back. Which they get, and we get the device. 👀 Sir. We see you sir. You cheepskate. Fixing things doesn't count when you're sending an identical one to landfill for the part.

And that's what I mean when the Chinese are sending us weird shit.