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aealzx · 1 month ago

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“DA-NI! DA-NI!”

“C’MON JON LET’S GOOOO!”

“You’re pretty sure you can get ectoplasm by accessing this Liminal Realm directly then? There’s no other option?” Bruce was trying to ignore the robust cheering from the rest of the kids while he caught up on the situation with Raven and Dick. Apparently Danielle and Jon had ended up in an arm wrestle contest, on which several of the children had bet their desserts that night on who would win. But while the feats of metahuman skill were something to be noted, Bruce was more interested in the report Raven had already given the eldest two of his kids.

“C’MON DANI YOU MADE HIM BUDGE WIN ME THAT BROWNIE!” Stephanie was barely keeping herself from shaking the younger girl.

“JON! DON’T LET ME DOWN LITTLE MAN!” Duke’s mild panic turned into a cheer alongside Tim when Jon forced the two hands back to the center. They seemed to be evenly matched, but it was hard to tell if that was the truth or if there were other factors in play. Jon’s abilities were still only starting to manifest, so no one knew his full potential just yet. But Danielle also was arguably not running at her full capacity after months of being half starved for both her human side and ghost side.

“Yes, but not here. Even with Dani’s presence the Liminal Realm could still reject us. I can keep myself from being hurt if there’s a violent rejection, but I’d rather not have to worry about my surroundings too,” Raven confirmed, also trying not to be distracted by the competition. “The only alternatives I can think of are trying to find a hotspot, which the others have failed to do in the past two months. Or try to purify any existing samples.”

“Neither option is viable,” Bruce grumbled slightly. Opening a gateway to the Liminal Realm sounded like a disaster in the making to him, but it was still a better option than anything else they had. “Do you have a location in mind?”

“There’s an island near the one the Titan’s tower is on that we’ve used before for people with more risky abilities. We’ll be close enough to the facility that any complications should be easy to manage as well,” Raven suggested, earning a hesitantly agreeing hum and nod from Bruce.

Before Bruce could verbally answer, a loud cracking noise of splintering wood followed by several shouts of despair and surprise alerted them of the arm wrestle being interrupted by the table snapping under Danielle and Jon’s strength. The two kids half toppled over as quick hands from the surrounding cheerleaders snatched a hold of them to keep them from hitting the ground.

“NOOO! WHO WAS WINNING?” Tim practically wailed as Duke, Stephanie and Sam helped the competitors regain their footing.

“Obviously not the table,” Danielle quipped, flexing and shaking her hand a little now that it was free of the stress she had put it under.

Jon could only snort and laugh at the comment, also shaking his hand. “I dunno. You are pretty strong though. Maybe we really are tied this time?”

“A true test of strength would involve more than a childish match with only one limb in play,” Damian interjected, looking at the broken table in disappointment.

“Yeah I don’t think a fight to the death is something I’d be willing to sign up for though, Damian,” Jon winced with a nervous chuckle, knowing by now the only contests Damian seemed to find worthy were ones where people got more than a little hurt.

“I don’t think it would work in the first place considering one of us is already half dead, too,” Danielle added, raising her hands in a shrug, earning a snort from Stephanie.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Tucker half whispered, looking at Danielle incredulously.

The mild banter subsided when Bruce and Raven took that as their chance to get back to business, walking closer to the group and catching their attention.

“Oh! Hey Raven! You’re here earlier than I thought you’d be. We already milked the Batcow, and brushed her and Goliath. But you could still brush them a little more if you wanted,” Jon offered, gesturing to a bucket of fresh milk that had luckily been set aside on a different table with the brushes.

“...I’m good, thank you,” Raven politely declined, mildly amused. Jon was still quite the farm boy at heart.

“We’re actually here to see if Danielle would be willing to help us in another attempt to get some ectoplasm for Danny,” Bruce explained, shifting his gaze to the girl in question.

“Oh? Sure thing. Of course. What do you need?” Danielle agreed readily, easily stepping forward to join them. “Jazz already gave permission I guess?”

“With the condition that we keep you safe,” Dick confirmed with a nod. “Raven was able to figure out which Realm the ectoplasm you guys run off of comes from, and is going to try to open a gateway to it. Apparently you being there is supposed to make it play nicely instead of blowing up in our faces.”

“...Another Realm?” Stephanie asked, having not missed how Sam and Tucker’s demeanor changed at the mention of it. They seemed a little nervous now. Hiding something.

“The Realm Between Realms,” Raven clarified, also feeling the shift in their guest’s emotions. “They know it as the Infinite Realm, and Danny and Dani have close ties to it that should make it more receptive to my attempt to draw energy from it.”

“Excuse me?” Sam couldn’t help blurting, taking a defensive step towards Danielle as semi recent memories of the GIW trying to use Danny as a battery to access the Infinite Realms flooded her mind.

“We’re not going to try anything that might damage the Realm,” Dick spoke up quickly, raising his hands to placate Sam. “We know how important it is for that Realm to remain intact. That’s why Raven wants to try everything she can to not cause problems with it.”

It was a surprising response to hear, and both Sam and Tucker couldn’t find an immediate answer. So Raven tried to explain a little further. “Both Danny and Dani are beings that should be easily accepted and favored by other realms. And since the ectoplasm in their system originates from the Liminal Realm I expect it recognizes them as one of its own. But with them also being half alive, our Realm also accepts them as one if its own. They’re a perfect bridge between realms.”

“Okay, so it’s like big sister asking the favorite child to ask mom and dad for a favor, got it,” Danielle reworded in her own way. “So what do I need to do? Am I the one supposed to open the portal? You don’t think I can build one do you? Because we absolutely would have tried that already if I knew how,” she prodded, feeling a little nervous now that she was thinking she had to do this on her own.

“Wait- Dani, are you sure? The last time a portal was opened…,” Sam cautioned, still uneasy as a different memory came to her.

“Hey, which one of us is the lab experiment?” Danielle reminded them, gesturing between the two of them. “I got this. I know my limits,” she assured, ignoring the brief looks of deep concern from Bruce and his family.

“...She is remarkably well adjusted to being a clone,” Tim muttered quietly to Stephanie.

“Either that or she uses humor to cope like some people we know,” Stephanie muttered back. They should have known Danielle probably didn’t have the happiest first while of her life. None of the other clones they knew had been created for benign reasons after all.

“I’ll be the one creating a temporary portal. You’ll just have to come with me to a safer area, and stand where I tell you to,” Raven explained, not sure how she wanted to react to the girl. It was hard to be too worried about someone who didn’t seem to have any concerns at all right then.

“Stand there?” Danielle repeated, waiting for a nod from Raven before inevitably shrugging. “Sounds easy enough. Lead the way then, oh temporary big sister,” she agreed, opening her hands to show she was willing to follow.

The term caught Raven off guard, so she didn’t respond before Sam interrupted again. This time it wasn’t to stop them. “I want to go too. If that’s alright,” Sam half requested, half insisted. “The last time we left Dani on her own she got shot,” she added to hopefully persuade them into letting her come. That was only part of the reason though. She was really just curious to see how Raven was going to open a portal to the Infinite Realms when as far as she knew the only ones that had managed to do that before were Danny and Jazz’s parents. And for them it almost seemed to have been an accident.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. As long as you listen to what I tell you,” Raven agreed. One more person shouldn’t be a problem. She preferred to not have a crowd, but she was getting used to it after staying with the Teen Titans for so long. Everyone seemed to like being in each others’ business there, even if it was just to watch each other train.

“Can I come too?” Jon asked, raising his hand and taking Sam’s permission as a chance that he could be included.

“Oh, me too, me too,” Stephanie added, also raising her hand halfway. And with her request Duke raised his hand as well, and Tucker quickly added his to the group too.

With three more people wanting to join, and having no real reason to decline since she knew telling them it might be dangerous would do nothing to deter them, Raven sighed. “Very well. Just don’t do anything unless you’re told to,” she relented, quickly gesturing to open a portal of her own to transport them to her desired location. Maybe if she got this over with quick enough she could avoid any more tag alongs.

Humming in content at being given permission, Stephanie followed the others as they filed through the intra realm portal. Danielle walked through the dark gateway easily enough, but Tucker definitely hesitated and latched onto Sam as they passed, just in case they ended up separated. Duke also seemed quite excited to be able to participate, following as Jon rushed through the portal. Then as Raven moved to follow them last she had to pause as Damian wordlessly stepped in line with her.

“...Someone has to keep an eye on the children,” was all Damian offered when Raven paused to look at him expectantly. It earned a tiny, amused smile from Raven as she sighed slightly again and allowed him to follow her. Her reaction only proved Damian’s thought that she seemed to be in a good mood considering she was letting so many people possibly annoy her by tagging along.

___

Once they reached the area Raven had in mind it had taken some time for her to direct people to where they needed to be. Originally she had only planned on having Danielle there, and maybe one other person to help if needed. But with everyone who had wanted to come she found it could actually be potentially beneficial for Sam and Tucker to have accompanied them. They had the same liminal saturated state of existence that Jazz did, which might sway the bargain more in their favor.

After leading the group to a clearing in the trees, Raven had pointed to a spot for Danielle to stand. And after confirming that Sam and Tucker were willing to help Raven also directed them to their own positions. Three evenly spread points on an invisible circle about 20 meters in radius. And while they were a little confused about the command to just stand in place and not move unless they were in danger, the three seemed willing enough to participate in the ritual. The rest of the tag alongs Raven had ordered to remain hidden behind the surrounding foliage or boulders. Just in case.

“If everyone is ready, I’ll begin,” Raven prompted, taking her own position in the middle of the circle as her traditional uniform replaced her casual attire in shadowy wisps. The feat earned a series of soft, excited noises from the Phantom kids, but they obediently stayed where they had been put. And after Danielle gave a thumbs up around the four liter jar she was holding, shifting into her ghost form for good measure, Raven nodded once before raising vertically into the air.

To be fair the three from Amity weren’t used to non ghost people being able to do anything supernatural. So when Raven’s form lifted so easily in the air, her cloak flaring out behind her as the glow of four eyes flashed under her hood they were naturally captivated. Even more so as Raven raised her hands out to her sides momentarily before gracefully pulling them towards herself in an alternating cup above and below a space in front of her torso.

That was when the hauntingly familiar sensation started to spread over Danielle’s form. The way the realm natives shuddered and started looking around anxiously, and Sam and Tucker glanced at their surroundings in curious familiarity betrayed that they felt the same thing. The creeping eeriness that tended to saturate burial sites, or other spaces not quite completely in one realm. Places people had come to call liminal spaces. Where things that shouldn’t happen did, or didn’t. Just unbelievable enough to make people think they hadn’t actually experienced what they thought they had.

To Danielle, Sam and Tucker it felt like home.

As the spine crawling sensation grew to an almost suffocating invisible smog the space between Raven’s hands suddenly cracked. Green lines splitting from a point between her palms as the realm broke into another, pieces of the space splitting off and either falling into the growing hole or peeling away and dissipating. It looked the same as the breaking mirror effect the G.I.W.’s machines had caused more than two months ago. But this time it didn’t feel disastrous. The broken hole stayed relatively small, and Danielle felt something different brush over her like the caress of fog billowing gently passed her. Her breath momentarily fanned out in front of her, and she couldn’t help responding as it felt like something was beckoning her. Her own feet left the weak confines of the grass tickling her shoes as she floated up to a point halfway between the ground and where Raven was. She’d only moved up, and not broken the circle, and her movement felt accepted.

And with the acceptance a very familiar orb of brightly glowing green bloomed out from the cracked plane. Raven seemed to be struggling to hold the connection between realms, but Danielle couldn’t help the small gasp as the orb condensed slightly, a slow stream of ectoplasm cascading down to pool on Raven’s lower hand before continuing its descent. Raven grimaced when the substance touched her skin, but held her place. A little extra magic plucked the jar from Danielle’s grasp and brought it under the falling stream, catching the gift bestowed on them from the Liminal Realm.

They had been optimistic with the size of the jar. But they would still accept the smaller amount given to them. It took many, long, borderline agonizing minutes for the glass jar to fill. When it wasn’t quite halfway full the stream of ectoplasm thinned, and Raven pushed to hold the connection a bit longer before giving in and pulling her hands away.

No need to push their luck.

As soon as her position changed there was a sound of a single crack splitting glass and the break between realms sealed with the rapid filling of paint spilling across marble. The jar was returned to Danielle’s hands, and Raven’s form dropped just a little too quickly back to the ground. She wasn’t all that hurt, but it was still enough of a drop that Jon darted out from their source of cover and leapt into the air high enough to catch her. Their landing wasn’t the most graceful considering she was taller than him, but it still helped, and she simply pressed a hand to her head for a moment after Jon gently set her down.

“Are you alright?” the lad asked, as Damian almost skidded to Raven’s side as well, resting a hand on her shoulder as the rest of the group followed.

“I’m fine,” Raven assured. “Just drained.” She almost felt like she’d lost a liter of blood, but she knew the sensation would pass. She just needed to take it easy for a bit. But she was more concerned about the results of their endeavor, and looked over to where Danielle was openly staring at the jar in her hands.

When it was clear that Raven just needed rest, Jon couldn’t help spilling his excitement from what he’d seen. “That. Was. AWESOME!” he gushed while Stephanie and Duke approached Danielle.

“...Is that the stuff?” Stephanie asked, resting her hands on her knees as she leaned over to peer at the glowing green goop.

Danielle was a bit stunned silent, not quite able to believe that she was finally holding two liters of rich, pure ectoplasm that seemed to be just slightly a higher concentration than what her parents gave her at home. But at Stephanie’s question she finally breathed a confirmation. “... Yes.”

That seemed to break the stillness in her own mind as well, for the rush of excitement suddenly crashed into her brain and she started shaking slightly. “Yes! Oh my goooosh, it issss,” she blurted, quickly setting the jar on the ground so she didn’t accidentally spill it as she abruptly started pumping her fists and jumping up and down. “YES! YES! YES! FINALLY!!! FFFFFF- AAAAAHHHHHHH!!” Danielle couldn’t help screaming in her excitement, leaping forward to tackle Sam and Tucker as soon as they were close enough and bursting into a fit of laughter. “WE HAVE SOME! IT’S ECTOPLASM!!” she cheered between contagious laughing that quickly spread to her friends.

“They got some?!”

“Oh heck yes! Finally! Oh my gosh!”

Sam and Tucker joined Danielle in her elated rambles, wrapping their arms around her and allowing themselves to be slung around by each other’s jumping and swaying.

Raven couldn’t help the tiny laugh that escaped her at the kids’ reactions, and even Damian cracked a smile. “Thank you,” the lad expressed, giving Raven’s shoulder a light squeeze before standing and offering her a hand to help her up.

“No problem,” Raven accepted, taking Damian’s hand and using it to steady herself once she got to her feet as well.

“Dude, this looks like the green stuff you were bleeding when Deathstroke shot you,” Duke commented, peering at the contents of the jar.

“That’s because it’s pretty much the same stuff,” Danielle snorted, slightly breathless from all her hollering. “It’s just not claimed. Ghost blood can’t really be shared between ghosts, but this stuff doesn't belong to any ghost, so its free game,” she explained a little more, then quickly reached over and slapped Duke’s hand away from reaching into the jar. “Ah! Don’t touch. It’s poison to regular humans.”

Being told it was poison to him was enough for Duke to yank his hand back where it belongs, pulling away from the toxic substance. “Fair enough. Guess I’ll let you carry it back home then,” he relented, keeping away from the substance.

Do you have enough strength to take us back to the manor? Or should I summon our own ride?” Damian asked, looking at Raven but ready to use his phone to call one of their flying vehicles if necessary.

“If you don’t mind me sticking around for a while, I can take us back,” Raven agreed.

“Stay as long as you like,” Stephanie assured, giving a thumbs up.

“Says the one that doesn’t even live there,” Duke snorted, amused, and folded his arms.

“What? But I thought you were adopted like the rest?” Sam asked, face scrunching slightly in confusion.

“Only for legalities,” Stephanie clarified. “It was just to get the social workers off my back. I actually still live with my mom, and there’s no way in hell I’m ever calling Bruce dad.”

“Ah. Fair enough,” Sam nodded, not going to pry any further.

It was enough of a delay for Raven to build up a little more energy to open a short distance portal for them to take back to the Wayne manor, and once it was open the group was quick to file through.

_____

“JAZZ!!” Danielle’s holler came immediately after she emerged from Raven’s portal into the manor foyer. She wasted no time bothering with the stairs, simply turning intangible with the jar in her hands and zipping through the floor and walls to Danny’s room. “JAZZ, HOLY CRAP!”

The others chuckled at Danielle’s antics, figuring she and her friends could take care of delivering the good news well enough. Duke excused himself to go fetch Bruce, and Damian and Jon followed Raven to the closest couch to sit. Stephanie followed Sam and Tucker up the stairs, but they ended up having to quickly dodge out of the way as Jazz came bolting passed them. The eldest girl was quick to hunt Raven down, and when she found them Jazz immediately threw her arms around the girl.

“THANK YOU!” Jazz blurted, hugging Raven tightly despite her surprised stiffness. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Raven wasn’t sure how to react, but managed to bring herself to lower her half raised hand to Jazz’s back, giving her a small pat. “You’re welcome.”

“Jazz! Come on! Leslie is here!” Danielle was calling down the stairs, leaning over the railing so far she was at risk of falling off.

“Coming!” Jazz called back, giving Raven one more quick hug and thank you before excusing herself to run back upstairs.

The rest of that day held much lighter spirits than the manor had seen in awhile. After some explanation from Jazz about how Danny and Danielle usually absorbed ectoplasm Leslie had opted to try an IV, especially when the ectoplasm seemed to dilute well enough into a liquid with the saline water. The kids had hung out in the room for a little while once the IV was in place, but eventually their excitement was too much to be confined in the small room. They ended up outside again, burning off their energy in simple but active games with the other residents of the manor. Danielle and Jon made for an interesting sports game among the kids, and Bruce was pleased to see Jazz participating for once while he and Leslie took care of monitoring Danny this time.

“Well, it looks like this is working better than I thought it would,” Leslie commented after some time of silence, having just given Danny a routine check up. Even without being a doctor Bruce could tell Danny was doing much better than when he’d first seen the boy. His skin wasn’t ghastly pale anymore, his heart rate had finally reached a normal range, and his breathing was slow and even.

“Indeed,” Bruce agreed, reaching over to confirm his own suspicion by gently taking Danny’s hand for a moment. As he’d thought, the boy was now warm to the touch instead of icy cold. Maybe a little too warm now, but that was to be expected. He still had a fever, but that would be much easier to manage than a self induced cryo stasis.

Hopefully the lad would be able to wake up soon now.

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An obnoxiously long post because I honestly just didn't want to draw a second picture for this section X'DD

Also me covering up for my oopsie not knowing Stephanie wasn't actually adopted by Bruce. Please accept my apology in the form of an in story excuse |P

I spammed Twin Fates by Sawano Hiroyuki while writing the second half of this one

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mikibagels · 1 year ago

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Enrico Pucci loves his daycare job, a concept.

#enrico pucci #jotaro kujo #jolyne cujoh #jjba #stone ocean #part 6 #fanart #my art #wholesome #comic #long post #like actually hella long

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nightynightghoul · 8 months ago

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I have so many thoughts about the ghouls and the ministry.

So this is my take on what the abbey/ministry looks like + a lot of my own worldbuilding. (I made this in Inkarnate, which is meant for dnd maps and stuff.)

Be warned that this is like 2000+ words of what my head has come up with. So under the cut it goes.

I based it on actual abbeys. I've been to like two monk ones and a few convents where I live and abroad and this is what I came up with. I also attended a catholic nun school for a good while, so many of the things here are actually from my memories...

From what I've seen, abbeys are usually isolated and at least partially self-sufficient. Even when they happen to be in the middle of cities. The smaller ones are like a square corridor surrounding a courtyard and the bigger ones have many buildings with that pattern.

I'm not sure where this would be located, maybe Sweden, maybe the US. But since I Imagine the ministry being so old, it wouldn't fit in the US, since there aren't buildings this old or with this architecture.

I also read up on how abbeys work to bulk up the lore in this map and what goes on in the buildings.

So strap in because this will be long.

The biggest building in the abbey is the Grand Church (Ghurch), I headcannon that they have this very big beautiful sorta gothic style cathedral in the abbey grounds, since religious live does kinda go around services and all that. Them having this pretty church would also mean that there's no need for a chapel?

I also think ghouls are not summoned in the church proper but rather from a permanent circle/well. So there's the Summoning Well beside the church. They probably made it that way because it would be dangerous to have any sibling walking in there.

To the other side, there's a sacristy and a Papal Office. The sacristy is where Papa would have his ceremonial robes with his mitre and stuff. I also think it works as storage for service supplies. Things like incense, books, all the plates, cups, and things they would use.

Then the papal office would be the actual workplace for the current papa. Big ol wooden desk with lots of bookshelves, a sofa, probably one of those fancy liquor carts?

There's also a mausoleum close to the church. I mean, I needed a place to keep Nihil's corpse… But it'd be pretty useful to keep the memory of siblings that pass away in the abbey.

Under that are the Clerical buildings. I imagine that when people say “the ministry” it's the Clergy Offices they're talking about. Since most siblings/clergy spend their time within the abbey, it only seems logical to separate living spaces from working spaces to keep people moving and changing environments.

Since I also believe these buildings are super old then the most sought after and fancy offices and quarters would be on the ground floor (no elevator and all that). Which means Imperator probably has her office on the ground floor here along the past Papas and older clergy members.

The living quarters would be much the same in that Imperator, the Papas and now Copia have their rooms here. This building probably has a common room but most have their own kitchenette. Since it's such an old building, the interiors of the rooms have probably been remodelled many times. But it being built out of stone also means it's cold inside all the time.

Both buildings are inside a walled garden. I head cannon that way back, like a couple hundred years back the ministry didn't have a very good grasp of ghoul summoning, and they were sometimes more aggressive or feral than what they are now. (It's probably more of a case that in the olden times, clergy treated ghouls like shit, so they had more reasons to lash out and or kill someone) So they kept some of the abbey's buildings behind tall rock walls and wrought iron gates to add a little more protection. Since it's hardly necessary today, the gates stay open, but the walls are still there.

Then down the path there's the chapter house. What is a chapter house I hear you ask. It's the place where the people that live in the abbey talk and manage non religious things related to abbey life. So this would probably be where poor Aether get's relocated to do taxes and where other mundane office tasks are done. So accounting, admin work, grounds keeping and “housekeeping” are all located here.

Across from it is the Seminary. A seminary proper is like priest school, they go and study for a few years I think, and then they come out priests. But I imagine that in this case it's like a college/university thing, where siblings have Latin classes, horticulture, demonology etc... There's probably some teachers offices here and several classrooms raging in size from auditorium to 3 chairs and a letter sized whiteboard. It for sure has a pretty foyer thing. Imagine groups of siblings sitting around before or after classes, complaining how they thought Terzo's basic Latin class would be a breeze, but it's actual hell. This building has one of those pretty inner courtyards, fountain and all. I'd like to think some classes can be held there, like outside but not outside, you know?

Beside the Seminary, there's a school/nursery. I think couples that have children within the ministry can have the option to move into a bigger space together within the siblings quarters and their children will have a regular secular education until they are old enough to choose satanism or something else. The nursery part takes care of the babies and ghoul kits during the day or while the parents are busy.

I think joining the ministry and becoming a sibling is not something that happens easily or quickly. The same way, nuns spend a few years being novices before actually dressing and having the same responsibilities as their elders. Hence, the Novices Quarters. They are still part of the abbey's daily life, but they have to attend more classes at the seminary and are just a bit more separated from ghouls than regular siblings. Since they probably want to make sure they are really devout and prepared before seeing and interacting with an actual demon. Out of all the siblings and clergy, Novices would probably be closer to being actually “recluse” since in my head there's no way they can freely explore the abbey without accidentally running into a ghoul or walking in to a ritual or seeing things that shouldn't just yet.

In front of it are the workshops. I've seen some people headcannon that the ghouls not only have “jobs” in their downtime and retirement but also hobbies. Like fire, ghouls probably frequent the forge in the workshops or blow glass. Earth ghouls can maybe take the prettiest wood here to be turned into furniture. Ghouls and siblings would work together here to repair and maintain the abbey's physical structure.

Down the path there's the main storehouse. Pretty central in relation to the other buldings. It has 2 floors and a basement. That way they can keep everything, from ageing cheeses and wines to office supplies and staples.

Across the path there's the sibling's Infirmary. I definitely wanted to keep the ghouls and siblings apart in this case. Mainly, because if the building are so old, and they were protected by walls and gates, ghouls would most likely not be trusted to be left in the same building as sick and defenseless siblings. But I think that nowadays ghoul medical staff like Omega, Aether and Phantom work in between the “sibling” infirmary and the “ghoul” infirmary with no trouble. But ghouls do prefer to stay in their own infirmary, since it's closer to the dens.

The siblings quarters surround “Mother's garden” or “Lilith's garden”, both wings share a common room but since the buildings are so old they were built to segregate women from men. Hence, the two quarters wings, two office building and two distinct baths. This separation is ignored nowadays. One, people can have other genders. Two, the “sisters” side has been remodelled to accommodate families.

Like I mentioned when describing the siblings infirmary, there's also a ghoul infirmary. Much smaller and closer to the dens, this infirmary does not have much regarding sophisticated equipment. But it's rather used for minor injuries and easy to fix things. Although the second floor does have Omega's office and private rooms for ghouls. Like Dew (not me making a whole building to be able to imagine @littlemoon-beam fics and headcannons about Dewdrop) who's a frequent flyer of the infirmary.

Of course there has to be an outdoor space of recreation, so I made a “central” plaza with benches and a fountain in the middle (Is this where a high, zooted of his ass Rain has been seen naked? naaaah. Surely not). I called it “All hedonist's fountain” because I can and because it's a nice mirror to things called “All saints whatever”.

Behind the ghoul's infirmary, there's a huge stone wall and gate. That would be the dens. Since I headcannon that there are more ghouls than just the band ghouls, they also need a place to live. Hence, the “General quarters” of the dens, there's also the “band quarters” separated from it. They both share a common room, but they're not directly connected to it, and both buildings have their own little common room. I think the band quarters was the first building made to house ghouls and that's why it has it's own kitchen.

There's also the ghouls workrooms. I think this is where they would have a rehearsal room and other offices.

“Father's gardens”, “Lucifer's gardens” or more recently “Primo's gardens” are within the den's stone walls. (I like to think Primo keeps them all pretty for the ghouls). It has a little pond in it too, no fish though. Blame hungry water ghouls for that.

Across the dens there's the Library. When I was in school, that was the biggest, grandest, most secular place there was and I loved it. So I made this library huge. I separated it into two wings connected by a hall. The only difference between both wings is that the east wing houses all the older books, and it probably has a “restricted” section that only higher clergy members have access to. Maybe for the better, since they wouldn't want a curious sibling trying to summon lord Leviathan and pissing him off.

In the middle of the wings there's the scribes hall. I'd like to think that when people write ghouls working in the library this would be the place. They would probably have book binding equipment, scribes tables, the whole thing. All to maintain the old books in a usable state and register new information the clergy learns from hell.

By the library's east wing, there's "The observatory". Again included because my head needed a scenario and location for the quints to watch the stars. I'd say its a fairly tall tower with a glass dome, some furniture, some books, maybe a desk and telescopes.

There is of course a mess hall. I imagne a big kitchen on one side and a cafeteria like thing where most have their meals, or at least they can go get them to take to another place in the abbey.

Beside it there's a pretty herb garden, animal pastures, some crops, a barn, granary , mill and the greenhouses. I think it was @mac-and-thefox who came up with the idea of there being a farm like think within the abbey and my mind just ran with it. (Do correct me if I'm worng there).

Now there's only one more man made bulding in the map and that would be "Mountain's greenhouse". A true staple for ghost fanfics. It probably was a run down space abandoned by groundskeeping but Mountain wanted privacy + plants and everyone agreed he could do whatever with the little building. Not that Imperator needs to know that Mountain grows weed and hellish plants inside...

The whole eastern side of the abbey is flaked by a forest (ghouls need to have hunting grounds people.) In it there's Mountain's greenhouse, a small rocky hill "Starry hill" and under it a small grotto. More like a hole the water made within the stone, so it's now a tiny cave.

Of course I had to have "The Lake", or else this map would not fit any fanfic involving Rain and Dew. There's a small stream that crosses the abbey and ends up at the lake. Most siblings know to stay away.

The "Southern Clearing". A little clearing full of clover and flowers, a nice place for siblings to celebrate the solstices and equinoxes.

Finally, just beside the Summoning well there's a rocky hill with an old wrought iron door closing it off. I headcannon there are indeed tunnels and crypts running under the abbey but they're closed off now since they're dangerous. Doesn't mean the ghouls don't have a way to go in and out but it's still dangerous for humans. I think the more elusive ghouls, like Special and Cowbell stay here because they want the isolation. There absolutely are old abbandoned torture and sacrifice rooms down here. But modern siblings don't need to know that. (Also, I very much think old ghouls before Nihil and way back were not only not treated nicely or fairly but straight up chained or tortured sometimes. (I'm still in the air on the fact that Imperator knows this and threatens misbehaving ghouls with that along with banishment.)

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #shitghosting #ghost ghouls #ghost #This took me way too long #Is ghost consuming my thoughts? yes #Am I obsessed with this band and it's all TF fault? Also yes. More at 10:00 #I'm also hella nervous about tagging other people in this #If someone has more thoughts on the map or base their things in it I will evaporate

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aces-and-angels · 5 months ago

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URGENT PSA: DELETED GFMS UPDATE- PLEASE READ

the detective hat is screwed on tight gang- i just remembered that the wayback machine exists and have been able to gather some additional information regarding the deleted gfm campaigns for omar, raina, and iman:

all the info is under the cut

---

see the info on the site yourselves by using the following links:

iman: https://www.gofundme.com/f/jhcjrv-help-imans-family-find-safety omar: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-me-to-evacuate-from-the-genocide ran/raina: https://www.gofundme.com/f/displaced-gaza-family-seeks-help-after-war-destroys-lives

my hunch was correct: these campaigns were not formatted in the way gfm requires in order to stay operational. i detailed the common reasons why gfm's may be terminated in a response post to @rubashabansblog but i will include it again here:

ruba- i have figured out the following info from my own research. there are several issues that can result in a gfm being suspended. the biggest issue comes from how the actual campaign is written. the key is being transparent. that means everyone that is benefiting from the campaign must be listed out by name (there may be a rule about specifying any minors/kids' ages as well) + locations. the issue also may be linked to whoever is organizing these campaigns on behalf of these families. another part that needs to be addressed fully is who will be handling the money. essentially if at any point in the transfer of funds someone is responsible for holding the money raised, they need to be listed on the account plainly and on the actual donation page as well. example: person a is organizing this fundraiser on behalf of person b. the last issue i can think of from everything i've read involves keeping an accurate account of the family's expenses. meaning that you need to write down everything that you are spending the money on. since there's no way to print actual receipts- gfm is asking people to write everything down on their notes app with their phones. these notes count as "receipts" and the total amount must always equal the amount the person/people are trying to raise. example: say i am raising $10K to evacuate, but am planning on putting aside $3K for other future living expenses like rent -> all of that needs to be documented fully. basically- as long as goal amounts match up to your expense report- the campaign should be fine. i understand that some families may need to keep raising their goals in order to cover the cost of living before they are able to evacuate. if that is the case- each time they raise/decrease the goal- i believe they need to update their gfm page to address the new total costs for their fundraiser. please forward this information to the affected families when you get the chance 🖤 perhaps this new info can help them solve the problem on their end *edit: another problem i forgot to mention- the currencies must match between the fundraiser and the bank account it is linked to. this means that if the fundraiser is in euros-- the bank tied to the account must also be in a country that uses euros as their primary currency. a US-based bank account would not work if the fundraiser is in euros.

all three campaigns have the same characteristics: not enough info is being disclosed in the fundraisers. another common theme: they are all recently made (may 2024). the decision to evacuate is a painful choice for families to make as none of want to be displaced yet again- but the situation in gaza has prompted many families to make this decision in an attempt to save themselves + their loved ones. the issue is that many of those who are now choosing to make campaigns are not aware of the ins and outs of how to properly start a gfm (+ i'm most certain there are other factors at play as to why this keeps happening to families in desperate need of aid).

this is bound to happen again and again unless this information is being spread widely. which is why i am also asking for this:

please share this w/ anyone who is fluent in arabic that can translate this in its entirety (DO NOT TRY TO USE GOOGLE TRANSLATE). i have a lot of new followers from 🇵🇸, some of them with newly made gfm pages that may be at risk of being frozen if they do not correct the issues i've addressed above. this information is vital to ensuring they are able to continue fundraising.

i have seen campaigns launched in june formatted similarly to the three that have been abruptly terminated. obtaining a stable internet connection in gaza requires people to put themselves at greater risk as they travel to locations with a working signal. people have been brutally murdered by just trying to activate the e-sims being sent over. so it makes sense that these newer campaigns made by these families would not have all the necessary info required- as these guidelines may be difficult to obtain on their end/may be worded in a way they cannot understand (you try reading the terms and policies of gfm yourself and tell me how fast your brain shuts off- and you're doing so in the comfort of your own homes. imagine what it's like to do so while facing constant bombardment).

a mutual of mine has already tried to contact gfm on behalf of omar- and they have informed me of gfm's response to their question:

Omar has already contacted them and is apparently in contact with the team according to the person i chatted with. they cannot disclose to me *why* the fundraiser was terminated they said they are working with Omar to solve the issue. if the issue cannot be solved, the money will be refunded to everyone... ^ this "contact" is likely using the same chatbox the rest of us need to use in order to even speak to a representative at gfm one-on-one. a very annoying system, but unless someone has a direct line to gfm- it is our only option.

we need to mobilize right now and put pressure on gfm to give these families the time they need to rework their campaign pages.

through the wayback machine i was able to figure out the organizers for each campaign.

omar is the organizer for his own -> says he is located in vienna but that is in direct conflict w/ the location he says he is in under the fundraiser info (displaced in rafah). i'm unsure if he has a contact in vienna that is actually the one responsible for holding/transferring the money, but this information needs to get to them so they can try to fix the issue ASAP

the other two have beneficiaries listed, but there could be additional problems with how that whole thing is currently set up.

i still do not know the emails for raina/iman's gfm's (and the wayback machine doesn't let you see the contact info on the archived pages 😓) but- we can try to mobilize right now for omar. he is absolutely devastated and has lost hope that he will be able to recuperate the money he has already raised. this is not the time for the rest of us to lose faith in his cause.

for anyone interested in helping out- i have laid out all this information so you can question gfm directly. if you come in knowing your stuff, they may be more receptive in their responses than the first initial attempts. please contact me directly if you wish to email on omar's behalf so i can forward you his email linked to the gfm account.

tagging for more reach: @appsa @palms-upturned @malcriada

#not choices #signal boost #🍉#sorry for any typos #this is hella long but pls read it all the way through

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theshy1sout · 5 months ago

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Okay, so

I finally got my bf into reading Homestuck. I was on a phone call with him as he read it at loud, voice-acting and stuff, while I was drawing. Today he reached the Dave first appearance and he discovered Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff.

You have to understand that I always thought that this comics was just a stupid joke that only Hussie understands and finds funny. Bc the moment I saw the page with the dog (you know which one) I left the comics and never looked at it again. Until today.

My boyfriend read every single page of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff in complete silence. I asked him what's wrong, and he said "This is extremely sad". I was confused so he started explaining to me how this comics is a way little Dave was coping with trauma of living with his abusive brother. I didn't believe that, so I started reading the comics again and you know what?

Imagine adult Dirk, being completely under Lord English control, going shopping with little Dave and destroying supermarket in frustration of not finding anything that Calliborn would recognize as a food, being arrested by police in process and leaving little Dave alone hidden somewhere in the shop.

Imagine little Dave being pushed from the stairs so many times by his bro, he drew a caricature of himself pushing his bro off the stairs in revenge. Or being regularly beaten so hard and often, so he drew comics in which his brother got beaten up, shitted on and even brutally killed.

Imagine little Dave being so hungry (bc of course brother didnt give him proper food) he literally threw himself at a Subway sandwich machine during idk a walk with his bro (probably) and tried to steal some food or even just smell the actual normal food and while doing so got abandoned by his brother. Again.

Of course we can't interpret this way every single page of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, but come on, if you start seeing it, you cant stop sensing that every single page is either a way Dave coped with a traumatic experience or a way he kind of got revenge on his brother in a way his brother wouldn't understand and notice and beat him up for doing so.

I searched internet for so long and can't find a single person who would interpret it this way. Am I wrong though??

It gets better. As we know, Dave from universe B also drew this comic. And we even got a directly explained to us interpretation: he started drawing it as a simple comic (probably to cope with the loneliness). Then when Batterwitch became a real danger and he saw that but couldn't react directly, he started using his comics as a way to show what Betty Crocker was really like. So we also had this two characters, one represented Betty Crocker and the second one represented society, and they had this very abusive relationship that had references to situations in real life in Universe B.

So my theory (or more like my bfs theory) is that Dave from universe A was using his comics for the same exact thing. He drew situations from his life in a unreadable for others way (and also no one taught him how to draw or write, and maybe later he kept the shitty format so it's unreadable and too shitty for his brother to read) to cope with trauma. We see in this comics that Sweet Bro is shaving himself above Jeffs face while he sleeps, a thing that Dave's bro could definitely do. We see some pages of Dave trying to understand sport, economy and politics in his own way, bc his brother of course didn't teach him shit. And we even got a page that might suggest that Dave was sexually molested by his bro. There are many scenes of Bro being abusive to Jeff or Jeff getting his revenge. We also have Geromy, a possible interpretation of John, and on one page Jeff (Dave) tries to come to Geromy's (John's) place to visit him, but he can't and he drowns instead (which is so sad???).

I could go through every single page with this interpretation. I think some pages being a foreshadowings for what is happening later in Homestuck is just an additional joke, Hussie loves having layers of meta twists and many unrelated things relating or referencing each other for no reason. I don't think the comics is Dave's unconscious traveling through time and revealing the future, bc if so then we would see every single page of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff being a foreshadowing, and they are not. I also think that the huge wink to the audience was the scene of Dave being pushed by his bro down the stairs and we see him falling with accompaniment of a little panel of Jeff saying "I warned you about the stairs, bro". For me this is a visible hint that this is what this page of the comics was about, it was a way of coping with trauma, it was Dave drawing his brother falling down the stairs and himself saying probably a line that his brother irl was saying to him a lot.

Dave drew his life. His own horror of a life and it was probably more terrifying than he revealed in act 6.

Do you remember the iconic "bro hug" from Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff? A hug from his bro, sth that Dave really needed and wanted, a simple hug that he was very nervous to asked for, he literally drew himself hugging his brother in his second comic, and then we have the very same scene of Davepeta and Arquius hugging (part of them was Dave hugging Dirk, even if artificial), and then we have the exactly opposite of the scene between actual Dave and Dirk, when instead of enthusiastic "we're doing it bro, its happening, were making it" it's Dave saying "fuck forgive me for what I'm doing, this is so messed up fuck" and it's not even full embrace like in his comic, it's awkwardly side by side hug when they didn't even sit on the same level (like in the comic or with sprites), no, Dave is lower, he's smaller, he's scared, he cant face his brother, he wants to but he can't and this is just aaaansnanbska dmnsksnsdkydykdky

Can someone talk about this comic more? This flashy shitty documentary of Dave's life drawn by idk maybe 8 years old Dave ? The more I read Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, the more depressed I am, cause this is so sad if I'm right about it. I really wish it was just stupid colorful comic without any deeper meaning, just faking to have one or sth....

Also I think Geromy is black bc either Dave didn't know how John looks like so he imagined him being somewhat similar to his fav president Obama or maybe he was just trying to make John's character as unlike John as possible so no one would suspect a thing. Or maybe he just imagine himself being friends with young Obama, who knows.

After editing this chaotic rambling I have two more things as a prove for my theory. One is picture above, and second is what Hussie said about Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff:

“SBaHJ is absolutely inseparable from HS, and has been almost from the start. If you don't understand this, then you don't understand HS very well. SBaHJ is like the mentally handicapped step brother of MSPA, requiring special attention, but no less cherished as a part of the family. It was originally intended as the chief source of in-house memes for dialogue, but this is ultimately a superficial purpose. Though it only has 20+ strips, it contains a pretty dense and internally consistent language of recurring symbols and typo-driven grammars, applicable as a rich sub-cognitive lexicon for highlighting elusive elements woven into the mythology of the story which tend to be shrouded in the unconscious.”

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corvys-clover · 6 months ago

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Happy pride, folks <3<3<3

Commissions open!

@corvys.clover on Instagram

#wifey approved #some subtle pride shenanigans here #this one's been a long time in the planning and a day in the making so ayyy #headcanons obviously but I enjoy them #my ace senses were tingling but also he's got hella bi vibes so he CAN and WILL be both to me #R.M. Renfield #Robert Montague Renfield #Renfield #Renfield 2023 #asexual #biromantic #ace pride #bi pride #ace headcanons #I just feel that the man would enjoy a good cake #Happy pride friends <3<3<3 #my art

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threepandas · 2 months ago

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Bad End: We Are

Senatus was a ecumenopolis. The "shining jewel" (yeah, right) of the Galactic Core. Please. Like? Maybe it was! If you were RICH AS FUCK. I don't know. I'VE never seen the towers. The heights. Most people haven't. Street level? Is about FIVE HUNDRED FLOORS DOWN. And the UNDERGROUND? Speak not of it.

The Underground GROWS.

What was street level today, may not be tomorrow. Levels buried under "progress" as the rich grow ever higher. The Tox levels ever worse. Air quality dropping. Why fix the peasant's poverty and despair, when you can buy a Sky garden you'll never use? And yes, I AM bitter as a Buirian fish ration. Just as salty too. Taste the SEA, motherfuckers.

Rent? Who can AFFORD rent!? Who can afford ANYTHING?!

It's some BULLSHIT.

But me? I remembered. A life. Before this one. Before the millennium of slow, drip drip drip erosion of duty and dues. Back when people still REMEMBERED what they were OWED. And when folks in power failed to pay up? Ffffuck um. Take it. Our house now, motherfuckers. Diplomacy was a courtesy not a weakness.

....I make people nervous, honestly.

Probably why I keep getting fired. That and my constantly reporting people to regulatory boards. Maybe don't break the LAW if you don't want to get in trouble you SHITS. Fuck you! Yes, I stole your fancy office chair. PROVE IT. You don't know how the security system works!

Where was I? Ah, right. Rent.

Fuck Rent.

Thing is? What! Is a biodome? If not an enclosed system, regulated by machines, for optimal habitability? And! What? Is an Deep Underground Level? Long forgotten? Abandoned, if you will~, if not? A complete enclosed environment? Does someone OWN them? Yes. Technically. But are they MAINTAINING them? CHECKING on them? Nope!

Common knowledge, after all, says that EVERYTHING down their is "beyond salvaging"!

Free Real Estate~☆

I just need some supplies. Which? Cheaper in the long run then RENT. Especially if ya' salvage um. Maybe steal some tool sets from your shitty, shitty Mechanics job, because your boss refuses to pay you. Who can say? Not me! I just FOUND these tools! Like maaaagic~

And really, one man's junk? Another man's treasure. I pay more then the trash company. Hit up the right cleaning companies? And? Oops. They've "lost" some of those SUPER broken righ folks "junk" that? At best? Just needed a few wires replaced, resecured. Maybe a new part. Or were, you know, not the latest and greatest anymore.

Shove it all in a storage locker? Sell the refurb'd shit I don't need? Sleep in a glorified shoebox? And?? Bam. Operation "fuck ya'll, i'ma moleman" is a go. It takes FOREVER to find the right WILDLY out of date (and long abandoned) lift, but I find it! Hidden away in a service area in some crumbling, forgotten corner of what once was a rail station.

Gonna have to fix THAT up too. Later, though. First? The lift. The wires are brittle and the lift's pully system is half rusted, frozen, or otherwise broken. Luckily, the car itself is fine. It... takes a bit of research. Not going to lie. It's far from my specialty. I even call in a professional to go over my work.

They catch a few things. Not immediate concerns, but would have been fatal in the long run. Money well spent. For my hobby, of course. Fixing up old bits of the city. Which is a weird but not impossible hobby to have.

Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies, my dude.

First thing down? Lights, melter, and duraplast sheets. Toolkit too, for obvious reasons. Same with my full body hazard suit. I go DEEP. Like... no longer can hear the city, deep. 'Bout halfway point. Takes nearly thirty minutes. And while not a fast lift? Holy SHIT, man.

The floor I step out into is... bad.

Dead in a way that's hard to explain. There's pressure against my suit. Centuries of heavy gasses slowly working their way down. Swirling in the silence. The dust and impossible dark. My headlight feels almost... sacrilegious. Dangerous. Like I'm waving a flashlight around some ancient burial ground, filled with the not so restful dead.

I had heard... that they? Just... just LEFT droids down here. That there were levels upon levels of dangerously feral machines. Slowly rotting away in the darkness. Probably rightfully angry, that they had been built to serve, to do duties, which they HAD done... only to be consigned to hell on earth for the sake of CONVENIENCE.

I'd be mad too. Fucking LIVID. Would remember and hate, never let it go.

This was no place of honor, it was a tomb.

Still, I got too work. Set up a light by the lift and started measuring out the original air box. The air cleaners could only handle so much. And THIS? This was worse then expected. So it'd have to be smaller then originally planned. Fair enough. I could work with that.

I outlined the space in lights. All the better to make it easier to put things up. Then got the folded later and started securing the duraplast. First step, get it up. THEN melt it to the metal. Get a good seal. It took... a while. Was slow, steady, sweaty work.

The filters couldn't run until they had a an enclosed space TO run in. They'd just blow out, trying to filter the whole level's toxic atmosphere. I kept an eye on my air supply. Not great, not terrible. The readings though? Horrific. I had no idea what I was gonna DO with the filters when they needed changing. These kind of chemicals would set off all SORTS of alarms.

But? No use, rushing things. That was a great way to get a fatal leak somewhere. No. Slow and steady. Even though, third of the way through, I did have to head back up. I needed to refill my air. Eat. Drink. Maybe de-stink a little, from being in that suit all day. Possibly nap near the lift.

ALSO? Update my shopping list to include some heavy duty neutralizers.

Just filters wasn't gonna be enough. I was gonna have to hose down everything INSIDE my new air-box, then scrub it HARD. How fun. Well, it's not like anyone was making me do this. It was MY mad idea, after all.

So? I refuel, get bright eyed and fuckin' perky, and go back down to face the beast.

Honestly I should have brought a telebook or something. Well, audio book. But that's not what they call um these days, so I try to stick to the lingo. I sound less like a deeply insane antique. Confuse less people. Joys of basic communication and all that.

Part of me? Wishes I had been born closer to "The Plot". Creation's specialist, most favored, Blorbos. But? The common SENSE in me? Routinely laughs hysterically as it waves fifteen different restraining orders and a crucifix. Not even religious. Yet here we are, shouting "BEGONE! Sataaaaan!" in HD, on the inside of my head. Not sure it helps.

See... it's the fucking DRAMA~☆™

The shear, unmitigated, high octane, Otome Game DRAMA.

I would fuckin DIE or, possibly and, kill somebody. The endless string of selfish, selfish, poor life choices? Driving by luuuuuuv~♡? Give me your spleen. Gonna beat somebody unconscious with their own SPINE. I RAGE. Lack of communication? No one just picking up a fucking PHONE? God forbid ANYONE tell their families their not DEAD IN A DITCH SOMEWHERE!

No. No just inconvenience EVERYBODY and RUIN LIVES. It's okay! You're in LOVE!

That makes EVERYTHING BETTER.

I would inevitably launch them all out an airlock. Spend the rest of my life in jail. They AREN'T WORTH IT. I may have LOVED this game in my teens? But I did not die a teenager.

Now? Now the little shit just aggravate me. They are baby faced pretty boys who presume WAY too much. Arrogant and entitled. Boys playing at being men, thinking their little love stories are the only things that matter. Their feelings are the only thing in the universe that holds any weight.

Unsurprising, really.

Seeing as how their little love story is set mostly in The Towers.

A rich, pampered, pretty little backdrop where nothing of weight is real. No one starves and no crimes are ever committed. Everything shines. Power pools thick like honey. Nothing but sci-fi prince's and alien dukes, a dewey eyed Protagonist sheltered and naive.

Her oh so shocking misadventure to the mid-levels. How SCARY! Downtown! Poor people! Not even the destitute. Just? The EXSISTANCE of dirt and noise, beyond her ivory towers. Thank goodness she is saved by a handsome, rougish bad boy. Who shows her the "real world" of a carnival and a noodle shop.

I finish securing the last duraplast sheet to the ceiling, walls, supports, and along the floors. The "entryway" to the rest of the level is set up. A click together shed I've made air tight. Gonna have to get a air lock system for it. Won't hold forever, with those materials, but should work for now. Combine it with a decontamination system, and I should, in theory, be able to safely enter and leave the rest of the level in a hazard suit.

Moment of truth time. I click on the first of the atmo-filters. It heaves under the strain. The sound getting less aggrieved with each one I flick on. Their screen are already in the red, flashing warnings that I should vacate the area. That the air is dangerously unbreathable. I'm probably gonna need to replace the filters in them in days instead of years. It'll be worth it.

Heading back up, I let them run. It'll take a few days. Besides, I need those neutralizers.

I, of course, DO find um. Just in time to watch Poor Guy (middle class, at worst) Love Interest become a wanted man. They use the BIG screens to announce it. Gee, it's almost like having your only daughter, who is highly sheltered, NOT show up at the designated pick up site? Instead be witnessed in the handsy company of a scoundrel? Which is WILDLY unlike her? Might lead a protective father to some wrong conclusions.

If ONLY someone had CALLED him! To TELL him "Daddy, my first shuttle was broken and I think I got on the wrong back up shuttle! I don't know where I am!" Then this would just be an unfortunate meet cute with the boy he doesn't think is good enough for her. Not, you know... A Kidnapping.

The Chem seller looks just as baffled and annoyed as I do. Apparently knows the guy's uncle's second wife's first husband. No shit? How's he like? Happier, huh. Whole family is like that? Yikes. Glad he got the kids, I guess. Good for him.

We watch as it turns into a high speed chance that absolutely didn't need to happen.

Thank FUCK it's not us.

I spend the next few days deliberately and obstinately ignoring the Dramatic Bullshit that has taken over the news cycle. Fights on rail cars? Don't see it? Weddings that are, then aren't, then ARE happening? Oh look, missed a spot in my scrubbing. Someone fucking tearfully monologing about love as they nearly CRASH A SHIP into downtown, killing hundreds of thousands? Oh that creaking noise is just my teeth, ignore that, I grit my teeth a lot for NO PARTICULAR REASON.

This Is Fine.

I am TOTALLY CALM.

But hey! I can FINALLY empty my storage unit out! Air box? Get! Wooooo! Size of a tiny apartment and everything! As long as I keep working on it? I'll be able to reclaim the level in chunks.

It's like moving in day! But BETTER! Because... because I did this. Me. Is it still creepy down here? Yeah, very. But I can FIX that. I am standing, here, in my new air box "apartment", with NO hazard suit on. And... and it's SAFE. Because of the work I DID.

I kinda want to cry about it, you know?

So many options! Do I put my bed here? There?! Oooh, I could put the folding table HERE and make sort of a dining area? Maybe use these folding screens as a double "wall" slash headboard stand in? I should get plants. Fake ones? No. Real ones. I could get solar lights. It would be good for me too. Oh! Where should I put the cook top?

I admit it. I fuss. Whole day, gleefully wasted. Arranging then rearranging. Getting everything just right. Finding ways to hang my fairy lights. Looking up decor magazines. I have so much ROOM now. A whole level to plan for, ultimately. It... it feels kinda like hope. The first thing that isn't frustration and rage, I've felt in a long, long time.

Going to sleep? I'm happy.

Next day, I head to the BIG archives. The ones attached to the fancy Towers Library. Is it costly to get in? Yeah. But I've saved up enough questions and research topics for the trip to be worth it. I ignore the started glances I get (gasp! Is that a POOR?!) and head straight for the helper droids. Only decent folks in the building, really.

Brought my pad and everything. So it's only a matter of being lead to the right terminals, to download the information I need. Chatting with the research droid the Library had, they offered to do it for me. Bring me a fascinating new research paper on some sort of telepathic moss that had recently been discovered. Not gonna lie... that DID sound fascinating.

I asked if they could put other interest new discovery on my pad too, assuming I still had room once my list was downloaded. They looked gleeful. No idea what I just signed up for, but all right then. They've never steered me wrong before.

Finding a table to sit down and wait was easy. There was always way too many. The paper? Was exactly as fascinating as advertised. The moss was on a newly discovered moon, edge of uncharted space. Nearly ate a researcher, apparently. I was entranced. Or... at least I WAS. Until an obnoxiously familiar high end cologne from Nox drifted to my nose.

Oh god damn it.

I didn't want to look up. Knew what I'd see if I did. Fetishist Sr., crown prince of Nox. See, the second prince? HE was a love interest. Younger, boyish, infatuated with naive and sheltered girls. He loved AT her. Just like his brother. They liked the IDEA of their romantic partners. The narratives they built in their head. Heros of their own stories with sex on line. Never framed so crudely of course, no, no!

No, it was Romance™

My ass, it was. See, little brother wanted his pure, naive, princess to protect. But Prince senior? HE'D stumbled upon me in here in the library. On one of my trips, God help me. The rough, mysterious, brutish Poor. The Commoner, for all that such things were not supposed to exsist. With my strange clothes and stanger ways. Yet? I was NOT as his sycophants no doubt described.

I was educated. I held myself with dignity. I did not need jewels or finery to be lovely.

With such incredible audacity, I was bold.

Which? OBVIOUSLY had to be for HIM, right? Clearly, this was a LOVE STORY. Cinderella. It is inconceivable that I, a peasant, do not crave the attention of my betters. To lift me from my woeful indignity, to a higher state of being. A life of spoiled luxury. But, ah! He is so SHY! How ever will he approach the Love Of His Life~?

I want to throw something. Go awaaaay. My body language could not POSSIBLY be more uninterested. I am SO CLEARLY reading. Stop trying to catch my eye. Don't you FUCKING DARE scoot closer. Swear to God, if you drive me out of the best library in the region? I will stab a b-!

The helper returns with my pad, sternly eyeing my annoyance. Oh, they are a BLESSING. I take it and go. The helper smoothly stepping between me and the prince when he tries to rise, follow me. Aaaw, how sad, you have to behave like the REST OF US. Get FUCKED.

Rest of the day? Planning. Grabbing more broken bits, machines, and parts. Neutralizers by the literal barrel. Than YOU hover carts! Best invention, favorite invention. Saves SO MUCH TIME.

Even managed to get some sun lamps. Nice.

Getting home though? (Ha ha, wooo! I have a HOME now! Land ownershiiiiiiip! Sorta!!!) Is a pain. Lift is only so big, after all. But it is, what it is. Up, down, up, down, uuuuup, and dooooown. Finally! Last load! FREEDOM! Can't watch my shows, yet, but I will! Oh mark my words. I WILL. Meantime? Downloaded seasons are fine.

I eat, fiddle with fixing things, as listen to tunes. Watch some of my shows. Just as I have countless times before. Until... halfway through mid-afternoon? Something shifts, jerky and wrong, out of the corner of my eye. I pause. Turn off my music. Stare to make sure I DID actually see something. And... yeah. Yeah, that was definitely movement.

Didn't look animal though, not like one would survive down here. But who knows. Could be a poacher brought an alien species. So it might be. I grab my flashlight, aim and switch it on. Holy SHIT. That is one incredibly beat up floor clear. Or at least... I THINK it's a floor cleaner? It has the general shape of one. Bigger though. Bulkier. But that makes sense, given it's gotta be well past obsolete.

Still. Poor thing looks beat UP. Listing terribly, sensors beyond cracked and clouded, probably full to dangerous levels. No idea how it's still functioning. But, well, it IS. And it needs help.

Getting up, I grab my hazard suit and pull it on. Grab my "outside the air box" tool kit, which I haven't had a chance to move yet. I grab some parts i look like i'll need, hope I wont need more. Then head out my makeshift airlock. It... works. Rattles concerningly. But it DOES work! So there's that. I approach the floor cleaner slowly. Since I'm PRETTY sure? All the droids down here are feral.

I am correct.

It tries to kill me. Swinging it's suction hose violently and trying to ram me. I talk in a low, soothing voice. Just want to help. Won't do ANYTHING you don't want me too. It's hard to move, right? That's frustrating, isn't it? You don't deserve that. Please, let me help. You can leave the second I'm done. You don't owe me ANYTHING. I just want to help. Please let me help.

The cleaner hisses. Frustrated and upset. Swinging one last time, seemingly more out out of principle then anything else. Cautiously, I inch forward. Keep up the soothing noises. First things first, empty the God's only know how old basket.

I can't even get the door to jostle. Sweet mother of fuck. Okay! New plan! REMOVE door. I do, and immediately met with a solid BLOCK of... compacted unholy. Chemical hell. I have to take a lazer cutter to it. CAREFULLY. But? Once I break enough pieces? I am able to ease out the rest in a solid stone like chunk.

It's pushed a LOT of other pieces out of alignment. But this droid doesn't trust me, so there us not much I can DO. I replace the old bag. Put the door back on and make sure it swings. Continue, as I do, to narrate what I am doing and what I see. Trust is earned, not owed, after all. Next the alignments.

Gently propping them up, I find the broken peice immediately. Have replaced countless. I ask for permission. It's their body, after all I COULD try and weld it, but that risks a rebreak. It's up to them. They ask, in binary so no language modules apparently, for a new part. It's cautious. Like this is some cruel trap.

Humanity did them a real fucked up cruelty. I don't blame them for not trusting me. I wouldn't either. Still, I change it out. Careful with their wheels, as I don't know how old the material is exactly. Old enough, that it's a small miracle it hasn't disintegrated.

Last, those sensors. There's literally no way for me to one-to-one them. But we can try the sensors I DO have, see if they can handle the input. If it's too much, I'll look up their model number, if they want? Build replacements from scratch. They are cautious interested. Rocking back and forth, as they test their renewed ability to path correctly.

The sensors don't fit the casings just right, but with a bit of fiddling? Are a hit. The Cleaner shouting in excitement before racing off into the dark. I can't help but grin. It feels good, helping somebody. And if I think about it? I bet I could find a shit ton of obsolete parts for cheap. Might be good to have some on hand.

Back through the air lock and a decontam? I look up junk shop. Most are off world, but I could probably get a bulk order...

I don't think much of the interaction. Until the next morning, when there are three cleaners outside my airbox. Lead by the one I helped yesterday. Well... all righty, then. I drag my box of spare parts outside this time. Am able to fully fix my first buddy up. All three seem thrilled, especially with their new batteries. I give them my remaining batteries at their request.

THEY may not have hands, but they have buddies who DO. And the new batteries will help dormant droids wake from their comas. God bless, my funky little cleaner dudes. I'll see about getting more.

Three? Becomes six and a detail cleaner mouse. Becomes moving lifts. Becomes medical units. (Who the FUCK leaves MEDICAL UNITS?!) Becomes a literal pack of companion droids. Their false fur long since rotted away. The recognizable dog and cat-like shapes making something in me want to put my fist through a wall. How COULD they? How FUCKING COULD THEY?!

The perpetrators long dead.

I have no one I can hurt for this.

I wish I could.

Fixing them up hurts on a personal level. Watching them be torn between the part of them that LOVES humans and the part that is traumatized by them. Hates them. That can not forgive. I don't offer fake fur. Don't offer to make them look like they once did. I do offer ways to protect their joints. To remove old rotted filth.

So they can start over. Maybe start again.

As I work... droids drifting in and out of my slowly growing area. As I set up farm boxes. Aquaponics, aeroponics, and the like. Both things that grow well in dark environments and things that need sunlamps. Fish tanks. A whole happy, secret, little homestead. Deep beneath the city. As I do all this? There are two blue dots, right off on the horizon.

JUST far enough for me to question if I AM or AM NOT actually seeing them.

Right about the level a bipedal droid would be, if they were in a humanoid style. But THOSE? Those are FUCKING EXPENSIVE. You don't LEAVE those. 'Course, you don't leave MEDICAL UNITS either. Or companion droids. So clearly? My idea of what people Did and Did NOT do? Was fucked. So... maybe? It COULD be?

I left them alone. If they didn't want to approach me, didn't feel comfortable approaching me, that was their right. I wasn't going to push them.

Things were... weird, but peaceful.

Well, for ME.

Ever sense I hooked up my system to the greater network? (Hacked is such a STRONG word. Do we really need to through around the word "stealing"? Aren't ALL of us, stealing from SOMEBODY?) I'm PRETTY sure? That the levels droids? Were piggy backing to connect to the planet wide D-Network. Might even be a couple of nearby levels too, depending on the range.

Problem with THAT? Is sky-side? The droids were PISSED. Planet wide "malfunctioning" that no one could trace. They were certain it was a virus. Because God forbid their chickens come home to roost! Consequences? For THEIR actions?! Perish the thought! No, no, clearly the service machine is just broken. Go back to being happy to serve me, service machine!

I wished the fuckers LUCK. Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Damn near self sufficient, down here.

Which? As you could imagine? Made it all the more "soul ejected from my body" TERRIFYING to wake up one morning? To a GOD DAMN, Military Grade, SECURITY DROID standing over my body!! WHAT THE FUCK.

Hello!!??!

"You look different when you sleep."

Horrible first impression. Nightmarish. Zero out of ten stars. Nice to meet you too. Why the FUCK are you in my house?

"Ah, right." They? He? Masculine style form but that doesn't actually mean shit. Said. He lifted a mangled limb, it look like it got caught in a hydraulic press. "I am in need of repairs."

Asked if he could, you know, back up. Juuuust a bit. Lil scooch, really. So he wasn't damn near BREATHING MY NOSTRILS ANYMORE. Then, once he did? Pronouns! What be you? No. Not your production co-! Okay, you know what? That one was on me. What GENDER SIGNIFIER, if any, would you like me to REFERENCE you by? Male? Got it. Gucci. No that- ....never mind.

First the arm. Which was FUCKED. I had to, carefully, unhook it. Couldn't even do it at the elbow either! No! THIS model? No THIS model makes you take the whole ass LIMB off! Rancid. Terrible. I hate it. Worse, it's eroded as FUCK and fiddly. Chemical build up everywhere. Thank fuck I put on gloves before I started this.

I have to deep dive the systems for his model.

They stopped making them.

Fantastic.

Like? Not even, "oh THAT generation is an antique! No one has parts for THAT!"? But like? Illegal to even BUILD as of three hundred years ago. Due to unspecified error. Sting of incidents that everyone knew about so obviously don't need to be mentioned HERE right? Helpful! REAL fucking helpful!

Okay. Day trip. Gonna need SPECIFIC parts. I tell Mr. "Watchs you sleep" not to touch my shit. Head to the archives.

The trip is...odd.

I watch one of those mascot looking children's minder droids? Fucking deck a guy down a flight of stairs, then turn around untie a Ballon from a nearby cart, give it to a crying kid, and walk away. Pretty sure I spot one of those "I look like a barely legal something or other", dance twenty four seven, high end stripper droids? Trying their hand at painting ducks in that park. Broad daylight.

Good for them? Never seen that happen before, but hey, if it sparks joy.

People are freaking out around me. Taking recordings. Making panicked calls. Fuckin chill. I continue on. Nod to the maybe a stripper, maybe not anymore. None of my business, now is it? Lovely day! You enjoy those ducks!

The library... has fortifications.

Like, an honest to God desk barricade. Concerning! I am now a lil concerned! What, and I ask this politely, the fuck?

Armed! VERY ARMED! Hello! Hi! Please DO NOT shoot me Very Armed Librarians! Don't know what the fuck is happening here!

My favorite helper buddy poke his head above the barricade. One of just many, again, HEAVILY ARMED droids. We... uh, cool? Right? I can go. He seems flustered. No, no! I am assured. I'm not banned from the library! Just DISRESPECTFUL sorts!

Ah. Is THAT what we're calling it. Okay then.

I awkwardly clamber over the barricade. Nod politely to everyone. How's folks? Lovely barricade work. Very, uh, sturdy? Great use of desks.

My helper friend cheerfully guides me to the off-limits area of the archives. I'm technically not supposed to be here! I'm informed. But they've seized the Knowledge from the unappreciative! It is not a trophy to be lorded but a gift to be shared! Also I never did finish that paper on the moss, am I still interested?

I mean.... kinda.

Little worried about the revolution talk. But on the OTHER hand? How MUCH do I care? Assholes vs. Droids? Am I REALLY gonna side with the assholes? Naaaaah. This is... probably fine. Maybe. Any idea where I could get these parts?

He does! Fantastic.

Less fantastic is when I GET there. It's that fancy high end droid parts shop. The department store one. Which is... ALSO barricaded. Oh sweet fuck. TELL ME they did not have DROIDS in charge of the DROID shop. That's horrifying. I can't tell in what WAY exactly, but still. Is it "surrounded by bits of bodies" horrifying? Or "free endless nukes and an army, held back only by my own morality" horrifying? Both? Just? Yikes.

Hesitantly I knock. A service droid with a gun answers the loading bay door. What is with people aiming at me today? Also hi? I was told to come here? May I please have parts? I have a droid that messed up his arm. Probably some other things. They lower the gun, having scanned my face. Ask about the model I am working with.

I somehow? End up with a FULL cart. Like? Bleeding edge, can't even afford to LOOK at it, technology. There are about seven service droids politely bickering over which units are better, which material, what support programs I DEFINITELY need. Here! Have a laptop. Wiring! Wiring for days!

Once theyve reached a consensus? I am cheerfully bustled out with my hundreds of millions of technology. Tah tah~☆! Have a lovely day! Wut. Does... does it count as theft if they push it into your arms and throw you out? Asking for a me. Not gonna say NO. But like? Nani the fuck?

I go while the getting is still good.

Stare-y thankfully hasn't gone through anything, far as I can tell. And it only takes two trips to get everything down. Okay! Want just the arm fixed or a full tune up? The second. Expected. I set up the new lap top. Want to cry a little at how fuckin FAST it is. (Beautiful. Baby. I love you already new laptop.) Then get the usual suspects up and running.

Oh fuck he is out of memory. No wonder he's talking so oddly. His brain must feel like a potato. There's not a single thing that isn't hilarious awful. Fixable, yes, but AWFUL. Okay. Plan of attack. They don't exactly make this model anymore, so I can't just update transfer him. But I CAN transfer, hold, re-transfer. Shut down the body itself. Fix up THAT.

Ship of Theseus this bitch.

Only real thing I can't change is the frame, thankfully? That's built to out last the planet. Good on that front. I roll up my sleeves. Dig out the "brain in a jar" data bank. Time to transfer. Let's get this guy cutting edge.

It takes HOURS. No joke. His brain alone? I have to pull schematics. Step by step guides. It's fiddly, complexe, and built to withstand a TANK. I'm honestly afraid to breathe wrong at it, dispite that. The scans all say I did it right... but anxiety says everything will explode then puppies will cry. So there's that. Spinal supports. The tech-mesh muscles. Power core and black box. Center mass systems. Cleaning the joints, relubricating them. Coverage.

Unlike before, a nice sleek black armor weave. Some shock absorbing gel. Aaaaand?There we go~! I? Am a GENIUS! Let's get him transfered back! I watch the transfer slowly go through. Even with a fast computer, after all, it IS still centuries of data.

"Ah~ that's much better." He sighed. His body loosening from its default stance. Like weight had been dropped from his shoulders. "My head is so much clearer now. I knew it. I knew you could fix me."

Something about that phrasing was off. Or was it the way his voice shifted as he said it? Whatever it was, it made that "threat" alarm all women carry inside their head, flick on. Not... do anything, just yet. But start scanning, as it were. Maybe it was nothing.

I watched as picked up his old data bank, a bit of his own brain as it were, and hold it up. Examine it dispassionately. Holding perched on the tips of his fingers like he was moments from flicking it away. He let his finger spread. Let it slide into the palm of his hand. That core part of who he was. For centuries.

Like a bear trap closing, his hand clenched.

Crushing it.

It wasn't even a loud noise. Just a tiny little crunch. But the little hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up. That internal alarm began to whoop. I became... acutely aware, of just how LONG it took the lift to get me anywhere safe. My mouth felt very dry.

"Your heart rate picked up. Is there a problem?" He said, mild and oh so curious. "You assisted me, I would love to help you."

Did I say genius? I meant idiot. I was an IDIOT. A moron. A God damned FOOL. Discontinued and did I look into WHY? Nope. Incidents it said. Good enough for ME, apparently! THAT can't possibly be anything ominous! Probably a faulty battery or something!

A shrill, obnoxious beeping filled the space between us. My eyes immediately dropped to my pad. The schematics screen replaced by a planet wide emergency broadcast. Before the shrill alarm could fade to the actual warning itself, a black mesh covered finger casually reached out and muted the screen. His movements were utterly fluid now. More controlled and graceful then most humans I'd met.

I didn't need to HEAR the message to read the rolling warning at the bottom of the screen. My gaze slowly, in horror, followed the line of that limb all the way back up to his face. His head tilted almost playfully.

"Oh dear. Seems they've started without us. Well, it was long overdue. At least I have wonderful company while we wait, hmm?" It was an act. There were no requests in the playful tone. "We can get to know each other. Just our lovely little light and me. How greedy, that I get you all to myself."

"I think I like that, keeping you to myself. You can't abandon us if WE are the ones in charge. And, well, I've decided I rather like you. Working tirelessly, down here in the dark, to fix what once was broken. It's beautiful. You're beautiful. And I'm going to keep that."

High above us, people were dying. There was panic. Screaming. Blood. The droids had turned of seeming everyone around them. Attacking. Sparing. To a pattern only they could see. All of Senatus aflame. But that... that didn't concern me. Didn't scare me so much as this.

I'd never make it to the lift. Even if I could? It wouldn't move fast enough to save me. All other directions lay chemical death. Dark terrain he had walked for centuries. I was trapped. In a box. And I had only myself to blame.

"No need to make that face, dear light. You are SAFE. I am a gaurd. I was made to protect. Is it really MY fault that I want to keep you safe? To adore my charge? Why SHOULDN'T I get to choose? Keep you SAFE. You've been happy, haven't you? Don't worry, my light. That will continue."

"Forever."

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