#Next day rebagel

[masked-disciple]

Turnabout is fair play! What have you been working on of late? :D

All right, I survived posting however many cyworlds that was so now I get to answer an ask. :p

Right now, I'm not actually working on anything: I probably wrote 250-400k of words in the past year (likely higher, I'd have to sit down and total it all) and I realized right around mid-November that I was quickly reaching burnout: writing was getting difficult, even when I had ideas, and I just felt exhausted.

So I speedran the rest of NaNoWriMo, finished on day 23 (the year before, I kept writing and landed with 70k, which was insane, this year I just tapped out once I hit 50k), and I haven't actually written anything since.

But, that doesn't mean I'm done writing! I'm just putting it on the backburner atm. When I get back into the swing of it, I want to finish off (read: do the second half of) my NaNo from a couple months ago, Turnabout Runaways, which is mostly focused on the Ace Attorney side of Sagiverse except for where it isn't. (There's a good chunk of Aethelian stuff in there, and I do absolutely intend to write the Saint Seiya fic in there. Just... once I get there, because I have to adjust the plot of that one to account for Myncroft Walden, who was absolutely alive during it, and that'll shift the plot a bit.)

Like the other big fics I've done this past year, it's an anthology, so I've mostly been just compiling oneshots. The major theme is obviously that each fic is about running away (mostly literally). It's going to keep the anthology theme of having interludes / prologues to each fic, but it also has the fun addition of every fic being split into three 'scenes', and every fic opening with lyrics from a Sirinnkata song!

(The Sirinnkata are a fictional band in Sagiverse, as well-known as the Beatles and surrounded by the mystery of why the two frontmen vanished off the face of the planet four hundred years ago after both of them had a very public mental breakdown. I've genuinely enjoyed telling their story exclusively through their music, which is funny because I can't write music to save my life.)

This is the entirety of my notes, minus Sirinnkata lyrics, for what's left. (The crossed out part on the right are the fics that are done.) Runaways is shaping up to be a lot longer than the three previous anthologies, so it may have to be split into two volumes, but like... that's a problem for future Pale, when I get back into the swing of things.

In the meantime, I've been organizing files, so uh - if you're reading this, Wavy or someone else, the next hundred and fifty or so posts on your dash is just me being queueblocked from posting Cyworlds. Sorry. ^^; (It's either rebageling cyworlds or sorting my DGS fanart folder until I can do my Neopets dailies, and there's fourteen hundred files in that folder. I'm doing my best here. :p)

[phantoms-lair]

Tempo Trio Au

Now a unified post since the readmore’s are back

An info dump on what I have for my MSA, Marvel AU(mostly C&Ped from discord):

Okay, start 16 years prior to the story start with, of all people, Norman Osbourn. Norman is having a fling that's deepening into a serious relationship with a free spirited woman named Edie Ramone. His father disapproves on every level. She's not politically connected, she's a free spirit she's hispanic. Eventually it seems Osbourn senior has driven her off. Norman grieves the relationship and never starts one with Emily Lyman as in canon and remains single. Thirteen years later he learns the truth. Edie was pregnant and his father had found out and planned to abort the child so  Edie wouldn’t be able to tie herself to Norman that way. She fled to protect their unborn child. She died shortly after childbirth and their son, Lewis Harry Ramone was put into the system where he's adopted and becomes Lewis Harry Pepper.

And Norman is torn. There's a deep greedy instinct to reclaim his son. But....Lewis is happy. What if by reclaiming him Lewis resents him from taking him from where he was happy? What if Norman becomes his own father? He decides to leave Lewis happy with the Peppers, but watch over him. (Lewis totally coincidentally wins a lot of seemingly random giveaway with prizes he would like).

Lewis has two best friends. Arthur is a quiet inventive boy who lives with his Uncle following his parent’s messy divorce. Vivi is bright and energetic and loves to do things like climb trees and talk with squirrels. One day, when Lewis's class was touring an Oscorp facility an experimental spider escapes and bites Arthur. Norman, of course foots the medical bill as his best friend's father a responsible business owner. Soon afterwards Arthur begins to notices strange things. Super strength, inhuman agility, some kind of danger precognition. And he decides to tell no one.  Lance and Lewis would worry when there was nothing they could do and Vivi would be really excited and probably bad at keeping it a secret, especially from Lewis. So he just keeps a lid on it. Until the day Lance takes him to an exhibition match at the wrestling ring he won his belt in.

Arthur isn't like Peter. He doesn't want fame or money, he wants to keep  his head down. He's heading to the bathroom when he realizes there's a guy with a gun robbing the place. He may have super powers but the other guy's got a gun and Arthur's not about that life. He hides in a vent, texts Lance to tell him to keep low, and calls the police. He doesn't come out until he hears an all clear from the cops. At which point he sees Lance being loaded into an ambulance. He learns that Lance confronted the robber, who was trying to go after some other people. When Arthur bemoans "Why...?" he's told Lance said "All that's needed for evil to thrive was for good men to do nothing." And then he did something. This is going to be Arthur's 'Great power - great responsibility' analog

The hospital manages to save Lance's life  (waffling on whether Lance looses an arm and he gets the replacement), but he's not waking up. The doctors say he may never wake up. Arthur's father come down to set up Lance's long term medical care, then leave again. Everyone kind of assumes he or his ex wife stayed to look after their 17 year old son who's obviously traumatized, and Arthur lets them think that. Privacy works better for him anyway. He's never going to do nothing again.

Arthur’s first suit was made from left over wrestling things from his uncles collection, but later augments it with his own tech. He becomes the scourge of criminals all over the city. Including the secret criminal activities of Oscorp. Norman Osbourn (when not spying on his son) is trying to thwart the Spiderman that keep interfering with his schemes( and giving thanks to the small mercy that said schemes haven’t been traced back to him or his company). He managed to find some of Spiderman’s blood and decides to make a clone to kill and replace Spiderman. It seems to be going well until the clone matures and Oh fuck it’s Arthur

If I kill him, it’ll wreck Lewis

Craaaaaaap

So Norman goes to have a think on this new information. Unfortunately for him the clone is not exactly stable, mentally. (I think I’m gonna call him Mordred, bastard son of Arthur that he is). He despises being a clone. He hates Arthur for being real and Norman for making him. And wouldn’t you know it, there’s a way to wound both of them at once.

Lewis

Pretending to be Arthur, Mordred lures Lewis to an imported statue of an angel in the park and proceeds to try and kill Lewis by smashing his head on the statue. Lewis is big and strong, but Mordred has Arthur’s spider strength. He overpowers Lewis and leaves him for dead. Only the statue isn’t an angel at all. It’s Nemesis, Greek Goddess of Retribution, and she’s willing to cut Lewis a deal.

Lewis gets to come back to life and take revenge on his killer, in return for acting as Nemesis’s agent in the mortal realm. He sees Arthur the next day and is filled with rage. He tries to use his new power on him from a distance but…nothing? It won’t work. Maybe he needs some practice? Just to top it off, Arthur has the unmitigated gall to smile and greet Lewis like nothing’s wrong. Not wanting to make Arthur look like the victim, since he has no proof, Lewis suppressed his hatred until he can figure this out. In order to practice his power he create an alternate persona, Ghost, which appears as a fiery skeleton, to act a a vigilante and practice turning the sins of evildoers upon themselves. He runs into Spiderman pretty early on, and he genuinely likes the guy. Here’s someone risking life and limb to help others and expecting nothing in return, not even gratitude. He’s so naive though, believing criminals deserve mercy. One day he was going to get betrayed, like Arthur betrayed him. What else could he do but watch over the guy?

Soon Lewis learns his power works just fine, on everyone but Arthur at least. He assumes Arthur must have some supernatural protection. He starts bringing some stuff up in conversation, magic talismans, some religious stuff. And while Vivi’s eager to theorize, Arthur gives up nothing. Lewis even tries some old fashioned traps to get him and Arthur keeps just skirting them (Norman is busy trying to find Mordred and realizes none of this)

Arthur, meanwhile, has a lot of concerns about a lot of things. In addition to this new vigilante who seems to have good motivations but is far too ruthless, Lewis is mad at him, and he doesn’t know why. Lewis won’t explain when asked and he’s angry and moody all the time. He’s also asking all these strange questions about magic and old gods and …oh fuck Lewis is in a cult.

So in addition to normal high school life and Spidermanning, Arthur is trying to locate this cult so he can free his friend. He considers asking Vivi or Ghost but once again decides not to. Lewis seems to get even more angry if he tries to get Vivi alone and Ghost might decide to mindscrew every member of the cult, including Lewis! He’s on his own.

This comes to a head when Mordred thinks it’s been just enough time that Arthur might be getting over Lewis’s death. He confronts him in a park, where he’s supposed to be meeting Lewis and Vivi, wearing a black Spiderman outfit.

Mordred: You seem less grief stricken than I expected

Arthur: Why would I be grieving?

Mordred: Dude, that’s cold even for me

At this point Arthur considers himself pretty good at fighting, but that’s mostly due to his enhanced abilities and spider sense. Suddenly against an opponent with the same stabilizes who doesn’t rigger his precog Arthur is vulnerable and terrified. He manages a  quick text to the group chat that there is a crazy fake Spiderman trying to kill him and not to come

Vivi: No one tries to kill my friend Lewis: NO ONE KILLS ARTHUR BUT ME

Lewis gets there first. And sees red. Not only is this guy trying to steal his revenge, but he’s dressed up like an emo version of someone Lewis really respects. He goes to help Arthur and the black Spiderman freezes, while results in Arthur accidentally pulling his mask off trying to get him in a headlock. And neither he nor Lewis know how to react to the fact that it’s Arthur’s face under there. And while they’re still trying to parse that, Mordred has a blue screen of his own. “But I killed you!” At which point some things become crystal clear to Lewis 1)There are two Arthurs 2) His friend was completely and totally innocent the whole time and 3)The guy who tried to kill him is right there

And suddenly Lewis is fire. Mordred doesn’t know what’s going on, but he knows Lewis is still the weak spot of the two he hates the most and tries to attack him rather than Arthur. Lewis is going to take him head on but is suddenly pulled out of the way by Arthur…who’s using web slingers They simultaneous decide this conversation can wait. They gotta deal with Mordred. None of Arthur’s usual techniques work on him and he’s very good at dodging Lewis’s fire and not looking Lewis in the eyes for a Penance Stare.  

Suddenly the fight is interrupted by Vivi running to them and screaming ATTACK! Promptly followed by every squirrel in the park jumping Mordred at once.  Sensing danger and inhuman dodging ability doesn’t help when the danger is everywhere and there’s nowhere else to dodge to. So Mordred flees and Vivi is surrounded by squirrels, Arthur’s standing sideways on a tree branch, and Lewis’s heads on fire Vivi: I think we all have some explaining to do

Then a man with red and black hair wearing small yellow glasses “Yukino Viviane what in the nine realms were you thinki….” Then he notices Lewis “YOU!”

Vivi: (winces) And apparently not just to each other

So it turns out this guy, Mystery, is the Sorcerer Supreme of their world. Also Vivi’s magic bound godfather. He’s started a program helping supernatural beings blend in and live amongst normal humans (something as a kitsune he has a vested interest in). Vivi is one of those, she’s squirrel yokai (or half, still deciding). He does a pretty good job making sure there are no upsets between the arcane and mundane until someone showed up out of nowhere with his head on fire throwing around retribution spells.” He gives Arthur a gimlet eye, but Arthur just ‘Nope, I’m a mutant.“ He’s still watching him.

Lewis tentatively suggests they maybe do this somewhere less public, which Mystery eagerly agrees with. Arthur volunteers his house. Lewis: But what about your parents? When are they going to get home? Arthur: Not anytime soon

And while they’re on their way there, it really starts sinking in for Lewis that he has really been screwing the pooch. He’s spent all this time hating Arthur and trying to get his revenge on him, and Arthur was completely innocent the whole time. Hell, Arthur’s been using his spare time to help other people. (Also the realization of ‘if Arthur didn’t have superpowers, I would have murdered my best friend for no reason’ hits him like a punch in the gut)

It gets even worse when they get to the Kingsmen house and Vivi kinda pulls him aside. “Lewis…does it look like anyone else lives here to you?” Because no. No it doesn’t. “Arthur, when are your parents going to be here?” * shrugs* “Dunno, not anytime soon.” “Okay, let me rephrase. Arthur, when’s the last time either of your parents were here?” Arthur winced, then sighed. “The weekend after Uncle Lance got hurt.”

Months. Arthur had been living a double life alone in his house for months and they never knew.To be fair, he had ready made excuses built in. He never had them over, but it made sense because he famously did no get along with either of his parents. He wouldn’t spend any more time than absolutely necessary alone with them. Also why he would be out at odd hours with his superheroing. Mystery kinda explains the 'we’re trying to keep magic under wraps’. Lewis is “I didn’t know, and honestly everyone seems to think I’m a meta human’ and Vivi’s just 'BTW You’ve been fighting crime together without me how dare!’ 'We didn’t exactly know we were fighting crime with each other, Vi’ 'Oh Spirits you’re not going to get involved in this madness too?’ 'You bet I am’

So Vivi joins the team and Mystery decides to have an overseer role, trying to be strict, but the kids are growing on him. And this insane superhero thing seems to actually be a good idea. It’s a way that supernaturals have a way to act as their true selves and doesn’t even expose them as decades of comics means people don’t associate hidden worlds of magic with superheroes. It becomes a program he can institute on a wide scale. But his favorite place is with these three children. He’s known Vivi since she was a child and has helped her family ( a mix of squirrel youkai and yuki no onna) integrate with humans. And Lewis needs a lot of help suddenly going from normal human to magical. Arthur even comes with a certain relief of not needing to intercede on his behalf and he’s not technically  Mystery’s charge (Mystery tends to intercede on his behalf anyway)

And for a while it goes well. Then Mordred comes back

And it turns out his instability wasn’t just mental. His body has degraded. He’s become emaciated with green skin and eyes and black scelra. The mutation that gave him and Arthur their spider powers has also gotten a bit out of control. His limbs and digits have elongated and he’s grown extra eyes (and maybe limbs, still deciding, but if so I’m thinking an extra set of arms that split off from his and maybe some spindly spider legs coming out of his torso). There is no way he’s getting mistaken for Arthur anymore. He’s also ditched the black spider suit since it no longer fits. Between the squirrels and fire, Mordred has decided that Norman is the softer target and comes back for him. He attacks him and is interrupted by security. Mordred engages them until one declares Norman is dead, at which part he flees gleefully. This wasn’t true, but the guard realized Mordred was an assassin and figured he wouldn’t try to finish the job if he thought it was finished. Norman was taken to a secret location while they tried to save his life, while maintaining the fiction he’s dead. And that opens a can of worms no one was expecting. Because Norman’s will get’s executed and aside from some charitable donations he leaves everything to his only living relative. His son Lewis

So yeah. That’s how Lewis find out Norman is his father, after he’s been killed by a green goblin-like creature. (You see what i did there)

And Lewis has NO idea how to handle pretty much any of this.

Thankfully the lawyer executing the will is loyal to the Osborn family, and thus now to Lewis. Lewis recruits his parents and friends to try and work this out, and they finalize on an idea. They release the information that Norman had a secret son he left everything too, but as the child is still underage he’s going to remain unidentified until he’s old enough to take the helm, with the board running things until then and the lawyer acting as a proxy.There’s actually a trap in this for the board. First of all, by emphasizing Lewis as Norman’s 'child’  they imply he’s much younger than his 15 years and not going to appear for a long time. Meanwhile they’re watching the board, seeing who acts well and who’s trying to seize power.

Lewis is trying to get a crash course in business and all of them are helping him, until Norman recovers enough to be aware and finds out that his will was executed. So now Lewis knows and he has to face his son.

Lewis is MORE than relieved he no longer has to one day run Oscorp, but not sure how he feels about his bio dad who knew he existed but stayed away. Norman ends up being more honest than he liked, admitting his resentment towards his own father and being afraid he’s fall into those habits. "What could I give you? Material things. certainly. A level of luxury beyond your dreams. But could I give you a parent who was home for dinner every night? One who was available to help you with your homework? Could I be sure I would leave my ruthless behavior in the board room and never bring it home? Can I guarantee I’d never become my own father? You were loved. You were happy. You were better off.”

Of course it’s not that simple for Norman. Lewis may be uncertain, but Mr. and Mrs. Chef Pepper are clear in that Norman has to prove himself, and not in a  way that involves money at all. If he wants to be in Lewis’s life, he needs to put in time and get to know his son and let his son known him. Or else just stay away and leave Lewis alone.

In addition to spending time with Lewis, he starts working on creating a better image of himself for Lewis. It helps that he’s made his decision on what to do with his son’s being best friends with Spiderman. Namely it’s the realization that Spiderman is a strictly local hero and Oscorp is Global. Any illegal activity has been moved far away

Ironically Norman works so hard to seem like a better person so Lewis will like his he actually starting to become a better person, even slowly cutting out all activity not above board. He’s not sure how to take that

Random Things:

Vivi’s glasses are a magical trinket that make her look like a normal human and disassociates the her with the idea of being supernatural. She also has the single best information network in the city from every single squirrel being loyal to her. This makes her unparalleled at finding things. Her godfather is also teaching her spellcraft.

Mystery does the dissociation effect with Lewis’s locket, though thus far no one associated the kind and gentle Lewis with the ruthless Ghost. Lewis also discovers much later his powers can also heal if used on a good person.

The first gizmo Arthur added to the suit was a voice changer. He’s also built camera’s in the eyes so he can record things for evidence.

Arthur ends up helping Ironman at some point, including jury rigging part of the suit. Tony looks into him and Irondad commences.

Norman does NOT know Vivi and Lewis are Squirrel Girl and Ghost because of the disassociation trinkets.

If and when lance wakes up, it’s gonna take hi all of five minutes to figure out who Spiderman is.

Chloe is…well no one knows what Chloe is, but she’s a supernatural with a special gift for fabric. She ends up remaking all their costumes.

[dangerscully]

covid finally got me a couple of weeks back after two years of somehow successfully dodging it.

i had a pretty mild case (about 36 hours of a fever and body aches which were all kept at bay easily with ibuprofen, and i had a cough for about 5 days).

however, it’s been a week and a half since i tested negative and this week has been nothing but fatigue.

i’m waking up every morning feeling like i ran a marathon the previous day, even if all i did was go to the supermarket to do a weekly shop, or drive to see a friend, or do a non-physically demanding job. i feel like i’m constantly walking upstream in waist deep water with non-functional muscles. oh and also my limbs are made entirely of jelly.

it’s not fun.

[azems-familiar]

This is a painting, not a gpose.

Lelesu and Themis in Tuliyollal! i commissioned @mythlorn for this and i love how it turned out so much.

[maryellencarter]

Look, at minimum, can y'all at least put some kind of blockable text or tag on your picture posts about the Queen dying? Some of us are still trying to curate our experience here

[breadedsinner]

Two weeks

[melissagt]

Next day reblog because apparently I still haven't learned to not post in the middle of the night...

While working on this I kept getting massive amusement out of the fact that the "creepy book" glows pink rather than a more sinister color. Yay, pink!

(Then again, I do have friends who say that pink is the most sinister color of all...mwa-ha-ha-ha...)

Baldur's Gate 3 fanart of Astarion with the Necromancy of Thay.

Daz Studio 4.22 Blender Photoshop NO AI EVER

DeviantArt Instagram Twitter

[kusunokihime-a]

                                          Low Activity Notice

     First, DON’T PANIC (not that anyone would lol). I’m not going on hiatus, or leaving. Long story short: I’ve got a lot keeping me off the dash lately, so I just wanted to officially say that yeah, I’m not around much, and probably won’t be for the foreseeable future?

     There’s a few reasons, namely that 1.) my brother has graduated college and is home full-time for the Summer. I wanna spend some time with him cuz I haven’t hardly seen him much (despite living with us) for the past five years. 2.) People with a brain like mine tend to be rather...manic in their pastimes. While I still LOVE this fandom, community, and RP...I’m currently in another phase, so to speak. So I’ve got other things that have grabbed my attention, and I can’t really help where my interest lies ^^; 

     So again, I’m not LEAVING. I’m just gonna be SLOW...er than usual. I’ll still be here lurking a good bit, but doing replies/asks will likely be a lot slower than you’re used to from me because I’ve just...got other things my brain is prioritizing atm.

    I DO have projects I want to finish/start - they’ll probably be a forefront once my brain leaps back here~ They’re mostly in regards to fics I wanna write, that include you guys! So that’ll be something to look forward to, once I’m back in the proper mindset to write - I’ll explain more once I’m more ready to start them! For now, the main thing I’m gonna sweat about doing in a “timely” manner is the Sasu///Hina event you’ve probably seen me reblog from the drabble blog. Tbh even that’s been an attention struggle ^^;

     I’m sorry about delays, but I don’t want to try and force a hobby when my mania is pushing me to something else. It’ll mean bad replies, and I don’t wanna give my partners anything less than 100%. SO! I beg your patience, and thank you for your understanding. Again, I’ll still be around, but IC stuff will be SLOW.

     Love ya!

[factorialsfandoms]

This is some Sky angst for the bad things happen bingo prompt of ‘knife to the throat’. While not the whumptober prompt for today, it has the vibes of ‘gun to the temple’ just old timey, so... I may as well post it today! The second scene is for day 5, and I’ll queue it up to rebagel this and post it to tumblr then. It, like most things, will make it to AO3... Eventually???

Warnings: blood, major character injury, medical inaccuracy, ambiguous ending (once there’s scene two I promise its fine)

Characters: Sky, Warriors, Time

FIC:

It had been a stupid mistake. One moment Sky had hesitated to cut down a woman in the middle of a fight, the next he was disarmed, spun around, and had a knife pressed against his throat.

A tiny bit of blood leaked out, but that was not his primary concern - no, it was the way horror dawned across his brothers' faces as they noticed it, or perhaps the way the woman shrieked "stop!"

For a moment, even the monsters obeyed her.

The other Links made to approach, but many of them were cut off by the creatures moving back onto the attack. The fight was winding down, but there was still enough to keep most people occupied.

"Now, please," Time's hands were raised both to pacify and show he had dropped his sword. "Ma'am? There's no need for anything drastic."

The woman tensed a little, but did not make a reply. She did not even seemed scared, not like Sky would expect from someone resorting to this sort of act with his eight heavily armed brothers right there. Distracted, yes, but it would only take a few moments before Wild was free to snipe her - and Sky was certain that, if it proved necessary, he could.

Which... What was going on?

"But you came into my home," the woman sobbed, and yet her body was far too relaxed for it to be true. "You invaded my home!"

"Ma'am," Time did not have the benefit of being pressed against her and feeling the way there was not a drop of tension in her body - as there had been moments prior. "We will leave, just please, let him go."

"What assurance do I have that you will not kill me as soon as I let him go?" she pressed the knife a tiny bit tighter.

Sky tried to zone out the knife, the conversation, everything - Time's panicked but soothing tones, the hurried footsteps as other members of the Chain approached only to be stopped. He concentrated instead on the situation, working out what was going on.

The woman was lieing, she had a plan - stalling for time, perhaps? But why would-

Sky's lightning-feathered scars ached uncomfortably, a sure sign of either a storm, or a building magical power.

And given where they were, he would put money on the magical power.

And on the woman being the one to be storing it up. 

With how it crackled... Sky did not know magic well, but knew that she could not be allowed to succeed.

There was no way he was getting out of this. Not without taking his brothers down too and... And he couldn't - not now, not ever.

Sky raised his eyes slightly, making apologetic eye contact with Time.

"Sky! Dont-"

Sky did.

In a sudden movement he dropped his weight, digging the knife into his throat even as he tipped his adversary over his back and onto her own. Instinctively he threw his hands to his throat - knowing there was no saving himself, but trying anyway - pinching the skin shut even as the room erupted once more into chaos and bloodshed.

Sky swayed where he stood, trying to breathe even as blood filled his windpipe and nothing came. He stamped on panic as it built - he knew this would happen, and he chose it - only for it to overwhelm.

He was dying. He was dying and he couldn't even choke. Couldn't... Couldn't say goodbye to Zelda - he hadn't, when this adventure dragged him in, and now he never would - could say goodbye to his brothers, either.

Tears built in his eyes and he pressed harder on his throat, desperately, hopelessly trying to keep the blood inside.

"Sky!"

Firm hands took his shoulders, guiding him to lie in someone's lap.

Squinting up... Warriors. Of course it was Warriors. Time was nearby, dealing with the fight, and it was Warriors holding him so close.

Sky's fingers were peeled away just momentarily, and the Captain's face turned grim. "Fairy!"

A familiar cluttering of bags sounded out - the fight was ongoing, and yet still people were checking. For him. For him...

"Here!"

A speck of hope - Wind took aim and threw the bottle across the battlefield. Warriors did not even grown as he caught it, tipping the fairy out a little too fast and forcing her onto Sky's skin.

Piercing pink cut through his darkening vision, as a wheeze finally broke through and into his lungs. Desperate, unfeeling, he gasped for more.

"That's it," Warriors body shielded Sky from the attacks all around. "Come on, Sky, you can do this."

Breathing though he may have been, Sky could still feel his body shutting down. All around him was his own, bloody mess, and there... Was not enough blood inside him. Not any more.

He tried to laugh and thank the fairy - it wasn't hurt fault that his body was like this, she'd done her best - as the cold set in and the pain disappeared. Sky could feel himself shaking, and hear the horror in both Warriors' words and expression as he took that in. Felt Sky's cheek, leant down over him.

"Stay awake," Warriors begged of him. "You'll be okay, Sky - the fairy healed up the damage, you just need to stay awake."

Every part of himself felt frozen and heavy, what Warriors was asking seemed an impossibility. But...

But his brother was crying, and even if Sky was too weak to wipe away his tears, he could keep his eyes open.

"There," Warriors sobbed. "Just like that."

Someone else appeared - Sky couldn't be sure who - lifting his legs as the scarf was untied from Warriors neck. It was folded a few times before being placed over Sky, a makeshift blanket that did nothing against the chill.

The someone and Warriors were talking - much too fast - but the sounds of fighting were going away.

Good.

He might never get to say goodbye to Zelda, but... But his brothers were safe. Zelda was safe in Skyloft, and his brothers were not being injured here. He could relax, just let-

A heavy slap came across his cheek, jolting him back to the present. As his eyes sluggishly focused, Sky could see Warriors' moist eyes close above him, begging him to stay awake once more.

The someone else continued talking, perhaps to /another/ someone else in turn. Too many voices now, all cluttered around. Sky could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and yet every thought and movement was weighed down by the weight of at least seven Grooses.

Warriors was asking something of him, but it did not make any sense; Sky fisted his hands into the scarf. That was clearly taken for an answer, for moments later he was being scooped into Warriors' arms.

More conversation happened all around him, panicked and hurried. Sky... Sky could hear their panic, but it was as hard as seeing through his darkening gaze.

A pinch to his shoulder had sky startling more awake once more, gasping in surprise and confusion. It happened a few times - he had long forgotten how many, only barely remembered the desperate voice that came with it - before he was being put down.

To his one side was a fire, to the other was Warriors knees. A potion was being teased drop by drop between his lips; when he realised he cooperated, letting the potion slip in properly.

Swallowing hurt, it hurt so badly, but it could be done; a sigh of relief seemed to pass around the camp, Warriors hand coming to rest on Sky's forehead.

There was a little further talking and another pink glow, and then Sky was being bundled into Warriors arms instead. Tucked small, shielded from all sides, and most importantly cocooned in warmth.

A hug.

Warriors was hugging him, even as he barked orders around.

That... Should not have taken so long to work out.

Still, if he were getting a hug, either... Either it was too late, or it was going to be fine.

Too confused to work out which, Sky huddled closer, and let the creeping darkness dray him off to sleep.

His brothers were safe. In that moment... Nothing else really mattered at all.

[wildstar25]

alt. shots!! very important hand holding <33

MiqoMarch Day 22 - Fav. Zone

"The sand's a bit different from that of my isle in the Southern Sea, as is the rock, and some of the grasses. Even still I catch myself feeling nostalgic for that place whenever I come to the Cieldalaes. It's a little strange considering I much prefer my life now to how it was back then. Shtola and Raha both have assured me it's for the best that I have this sanctuary. They believe I aught to have somewhere where being the warrior of light is of no consequence. Where those pressures I place on myself get washed away in the first waves to lap at my feet. They're probably right (they usually are) ... but I'd still wager they more so enjoy having a tropical location to escape to over the colder weekends in Old Sharlayan. I know I sure do."

[sacrificethemtothesquid]

Death tw. Honestly, all my personal posts are going to be death tw for awhile, so if you unfollow me, that’s all right. Keep yourself safe. I don’t fault you.

I keep thinking about this post I rebageled yesterday and how timely and poignant it feels. “In the midst of a flood, [we] consider the color of the water.”

My dad died, and he died with us around him. I was there as his heartbeat began to stutter and his body started to forget how to breathe. In a macabre way, it was fascinating. I’ve never seen anyone die. I’ve read about death, read about the process and how bodies transition, but there’s a chasm between theory and practice that one hopes never, never to cross.

Now I know what it’s like on the other side. 

In the novel I’m writing, one of the main protagonists is grieving her complicated father-figure and her partner is reeling from the loss of a child. I came up with the bones of this book probably ten years ago, long before any kind of loss touched my own life, but it’s been twelve days since Dad passed and I’m sitting here staring at the pages and not sure how I should feel about it. 

I’m 75% done with this particular book, 90% done with its sequel and 50% done with the trilogy’s final installment. It’s a murder mystery being investigated by a necromancer, so death is woven into it warp and weft, and while I like to think I’m treating it with respect, I’ve been reading back through over the last few days, poking at my writing like poking an aching tooth to see if the grief I imagined is anything like what I’m feeling. So far, I’m satisfied with how I’ve done. 

Should I be impressed with myself that I was able to imagine it this way? Should I be alarmed? I’m a writer. Everything I do, every thing I think and feel, every thought and sensation informs my next sentence. I’m both experiencer and observer. As I was sitting with Dad, I was trying to memorize the way my mom’s thumb restlessly traced his knuckles, the way his pulse staggered at her touch. Now I’m telling you these things. Is that crass? Probably. I know a bare fraction of you. You know almost nothing about me, but I’m offering you an intimate detail I will remember until I die. 

In terms of being inspiration for the novel, I don’t think my dad would mind. He read the first five chapters and had good feedback. I know he was excited to read the rest of it. I don’t think I believe in an afterlife - god, I hadn’t even thought about that in terms of Dad until just now. So I don’t know. Maybe he’s elsewhere being embarrassed, or he’s proud of me for keeping my eyes open. Maybe there’s nothing left of him at all, and my experiences are nothing but my own. 

[quellmythirst]

Summer Days and Summer Nights Part 7

Summary: Living in the city can get pretty boring, your hoping that this season is more interesting than the last. Although living in a tiny flat with your little brother certainly isn’t helping matters.

Characters: You (reader) x Billy Russo. Cooper.

Warnings: Kinda Angsty, Idiots. Adorable Brothers .Don't think I forgot anything.

Word Count: 1.6k+

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3} {Part 4} {Part 5} {Part 6}

We’re in it now Babes. If you are under 18 DNI. Anyone under 18 can please FUCK OFF NOW. This ain’t for you. I do not consent to my works being copied, shared or rewritten. But feel free to rebagel and criticise me.

Notes: Dudes, my dudes. This is getting away from me and taking on a life of its own. I think "yeah, I know where this is going" and then Cooper and his sister take it somewhere else. Love you Xx

You don't hear from Billy for the next four days and being the reasonable human that you are. Do not. Do not stress that you were a fun girl for the weekend and fixed his Hammer problem. Your check had cleared and now he was done with you. You 100% do not fixate on that for the first 2 days. By the morning of the fourth day you're on the phone to Karen, asking her questions about him. Trying your best not to worry. He hadn’t even called you back, he didn’t seem the type to ghost you. Maybe something happened to him? What if something happened to him? No, it's fine. You’re not spiraling at all. Karen’s firm voice pulls you from the anxiety creeping up through your veins. She’s reassuring and delicate with you, in a way few others are. She knows he's a friend of Franks, that they served together in the Marines and that was about it. What help she was. You vent, filling her in on the details of the last few days and she gives it to you straight.

"He's either interested or not, you said he had to deal with Hammer. That's probably what he's doing. Why don't you go to the beach and calm down."

"Ugh - You're probably right."

"Probably? I'm always right. Get your shit and get going,"

Karen hung up on you, like she always did when you were driving her mad. You’d just finished putting your bathing suit on, when you hear a soft knock on your door.

“Yeh?”

“Hey Smalls, you doing ok? You’ve been in there a while, I heard you talking to Karen,” Coopers soft voice spoke, the voice he only used when he was worried. Wrapping your towel around your neck, worried that maybe there may still be marks on your neck. You threw a loose dress over yourself and opened the door.

“I’m alright,” you half smiled “Karen talked some sense into me,”

“Thank god someone did. I thought I might have to break down the door,”

“As if, I’m gonna head down to the beach,”

“Good idea, the sun and the surf always works it’s magic on you. Do you want some company?”

“I think I’ll be alright Coop. Thanks,” He really was a sweet brother, even if he drove you crazy sometimes. For the days you’d been locked in your room he always left meals at the door for you, not wanting to intrude, but still wanting to let you know he was there.

Snatching your rashie and board, you smile at the picture in your living room. The men were cuddled on the couch, Coop having gone straight back into Hudson's arms after speaking with you. Obviously you weren't jealous. "See ya boys, I’m leaving now,” you called from the door.

"Don't forget you promised to make dinner,"

"Yeh, yeh I'll be back before you guys die of hunger, don't forget to go to the store and grab the things on the list," you shouted back, remembering that you had promised him last week. Pleased with yourself, that you had enough forethought to make the shopping list and stick it on the fridge in hopes of reminding yourself. God, your plans are just not working out lately.

Xx

Laying back on your board you floated in the ocean. There weren't any waves today, daydreaming while the ocean gently rocked you was the next best thing. The sun soaking it's healing rays into your skin. You lay on your board thinking about the 2 days, well one day, you had spent with Billy. How it was the most carefree and happy you had felt in a long time. You needed to call him. He hadn't answered any of your texts yet, but Karen could be right, maybe he was busy. You paddled to shore, reaching into your bag to call him. Certain you would lose your nerve if you waited too long. Only to see 5 missed calls, all from him spanning the last few hours.

Your hands fumbled, brushing sand from your fingers onto yourself. You managed to unlock your phone, your fingers swiping fast to call him back. Maybe he needed your help? Thankfully, he picked up after one ring.

"Thank fuck, I was getting worried when you didn't pick up" he stammered.

"I haven't heard from you in days and you're worried?" You accused him, sounding harsher than you would've liked.

"Yeh, I was. Let me make it up to you, I'll come pick you up. Take you to dinner"

"What?" your face agape, your mind slowly processing his words.

“Let me apologise, I’ll come get you. We can talk about it over dinner,”

“Ugh- When?” You asked, not sure if he meant right now. You gripped your board under your arm, the blaze of the sunset filled your eyes and you started speed walking up the beach.

"10 minutes? What's your address?"

"I'm not at home, give me an hour,"

"How about I come pick you up?"

"I don't want to be a hassle-" you started to explain. Not really sure why he was so keen to see you after 4 days of nothing. Maybe he really had been busy, like Karen said.

"No hassle, where are you?"

"Main Beach" You sighed, realising no wasn't something he would accept. "I'll head up to the Surf Club"

"I'm not too far, I'll be there soon" he went silent for a moment.

"Anything else?" You said sarcastically, thinking maybe you shouldn't wait. No. Of course you’ll wait. Don't be stupid. He atleast deserved the chance to explain himself.

"I’m a few blocks away, Sweetheart. Don’t run off." can he read your fucking mind?

"Sure thing," you hung up the phone, trudging your way up to the surf club on the opposite side of the beach from where you were.

Xx

Sitting at a table outside the club, you waited. scrolling through your phone mindlessly. You heard the screech of rubber, when a black SUV stopped in front of where you were sitting. The front door opened and footsteps began making their way to you. Tucking your phone back into your bag, you stepped out of the table. Taking a hold of your board, you felt a warm hand wrap around your waist.

“I got that sweetheart,” Billy’s voice echoed behind you.

“Oh, thanks,” letting go of the board, you spun to face him. Your smile faded once you saw him, “My god, what happened to your face?” You asked, your hands flying to rub the cuts on his lip, eyebrow and cheek. Holding his face you brought him down to your lips, placing soft kisses on the marks. “Who did this to you?”

“Let's not talk about it here,” his low voice whispered to you, his hand on the small of your back, helping you into the car. He hopped in the driver's seat after putting your board in the back, his dark jeans hugging his legs when he sat down. The leather jacket made him look broader, more imposing against the dark leather of the seats.

“Can- can we talk about it now?” you asked, your eyes fixed on the road.

“We’ll talk at dinner ok?” he reassured you. “Sweetheart, where do you live? I’m guessin you dont wanna go out dressed like that?”

“I- yeh.” You said, looking down at your loose dress and bathing suit combo. Definitely not dinner attire. You tapped your address into the GPS. The drive only took 10 minutes, you were happy that you and Coop had managed to find somewhere so close to the beach. Billy took your hand, not saying a word, his thumb rubbed small circles on the back of your hand for the rest of the short drive.

“This it?” he asked, pulling up to your building.

“Yeah, that's it,” you smile up at the building, “You wanna come up? I’ll be quick,”

“You’re brother there?”

“Cooper? Yeh, probably. He lives here,” you eye him quizzically, not really sure what he was worried about. Sure Coop could be a dingus, but he always meant well.

“I think I’ll just wait, don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Just go on, I’ll wait.” he assured you, helping you get your board out of the back of the SUV “Don’t take to long,”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” you assured him, you grip your board and head inside. You rushed through the door, bounding up the stairs two at a time. Very impressed that you didn’t fall back down.

Xx

"What's the big hurry?" Coop called from the couch, when the door flew shut behind you.

"Got a date! Need to get ready ASAP," Cooper just rolled his eyes at your excitement.

“Glad you’re in a better mood than before” He shouted, while you ran up the stairs, “The beach worked its magic on you.”

“You could say that,” You replied, slamming your bedroom door shut behind you.

You showered quickly, washing all the sand away that was trapped in your hair and body. Making sure you rinsed out your bathing suit before hanging it in the shower.

Stepping out of the bathroom you heard voices echoing from downstairs. Checking your phone you saw you had been in the shower longer than you thought. Draping a towel around you, you cracked the door. Hearing Billy's voice from what sounded like the front door, he must’ve got tired of waiting and followed the sand trail up the stairs.

Pressing your face through the crack you listened a bit closer, you could hear that coarse tone in Cooper's voice that told you he was angry. Fuck. Quickly drying yourself off you slid on a pair of leggings and shirt, running down the stairs to see what was going on. Unfortunately for you, your foot caught on the bottom step, toppling you over and you landed face first on the wooden floor.

{Part 8}

[flannelshirtandjeans]

Life update! Personal stuff I don't need to but also wanna yell about! Positive! No rebagels pleaSE!

[I don't remember how mobile readmore works]

I now have a tentative ADHD diagnosis and am on a test round of meds for it! During the first days I accomplished an astounding amount of things but don't know if it's placebo and excitement of things moving forward, or the meds actually helping. xD I feel like these days have gone slower (in a good way) and been more relaxing, which is an interesting observation. Like, I feel more rested despite doing more stuff that I actually needed to do; I've been a busy bee but feel chill and like the rest has been enough?

But! Will see how it works longer term in the next couple of weeks!

The point is pretty much "I feel like this explains a lot" and "everything is new even tho I'm exactly the same as I ever was" and"I just wanted to yell". bdvdvdvfvdv.

[southern-belle-outcasts]

Thank you to everyone patiently waiting for my shit to be fully got together (or at least enough so that I’m not constantly coming home at 2am). My truck should be getting fixed Tuesday. Rental car returned Thursday. After that due to the astronomical gas prices and iffy truck function beyond the transmission, not to mention not trying to cover the cost of the rental, I will be working MUCH, much less. Which means back to writing and arting and general creativity. If you have posted any kinds of updates on the dash, I literally haven’t seen them. I haven’t been on tumblr but for all of maybe a half hour total in the last three weeks. Feel free to link me to important shit. I will give this a few rebagels in the next few days.

[ask-doctor-dimension]

Next day rebagel!!!

Never sneak up on an armed unicorn with aiming trouble.

[antics-pedantic]

MUTANT MEDIA CLUB: Cyber-Chump

For those who saw glory in the digital world, the Coalition for Generated Imagery was the group to go to. And there was no one more skillful than Null Node. Their hair was a bright red, eyes glowing golden from the cybernetic implants there. And of course, they sported a cool long, dark coat and half-finger gloves. Everyone in the C.G.I. just really dug cyberpunk. And I do emphasize the “punk” aspect, as members of the C.G.I. were working folks in the areas of programming, mechanical engineering, and hologram-putting-together tasks. 

Today, Null Node had managed to get a working build together for a new game they had been working on. The prototype title for the time being was something to the tune of “Danger in the DMV,” a short role-playing game meant to illustrate the utter agony of having to do much of anything at the department of motor vehicles. It was a passion project, so it didn’t pay nearly as much as the 3D animation work Null and some others did for Triumph Studios on some of their sci-fi/fantasy programming. But it was a labor of love they worked on at their own pace, and not on crunch time that demanded days, nights, and minimal bathroom breaks.

“How’s the game coming along, Null?” asked Volcanicook, owner of the tropical-themed “Magma Munchies” food truck, as she served up the cyberpunk a styrofoam container of fresh hot food. She was a mutant who had a literal volcano sticking out of her head.

“Finally got some irritating assets to work. At this rate I’ll be able to have as few bugs as possible. Then the real challenge will be plugging the game online.”

“Hey, make a promo post and I’ll rebagel it. From my personal and my company accounts!” said Vcook. “I’ve been so hyped to play your next release! That last one—“Parkour Granddad” was great. Vertical gameplay coupled with a challenging, but not impossible puzzle system? Loved it!”

“Ah… I don’t know if Danger in the DMV will be as mechanically complex. The plot is pretty bare bones.” said Null Node. But Volcanicook would hear none of it.

“Null Node, you look me in the eyes and tell me makin’ some fries is less important than grilling up a whole order.”

“But the fries are just a side, Vcook. Not a main course.”

“But nothin’!” scoffed Volcanicook. “Sometimes people just want some fries. Not a whole thing. Don’t feel like you gotta put out a big spread every time. Just focus on trying to bring your visions to life as best you can. Bugs are to be expected! You can work them out later if you really gotta. Besides, it doesn’t help that you’re busting your rump on all those more lucrative jobs.”

Null Node could only offer a hushed thanks to Volcanicook before they departed. That was a lot to think about. So much thinking about the nature of creation versus merely churning out content that the cyberpunk failed to notice the whirring of a lawn mower engine. A few jerks in homemade power armor had blocked both directions of the sidewalk Null Node was on. 

“Shell Gamers!” gasped Null Node, brandishing a tactical katana from within their long coat. “What do you greaseballs want?!”

“We want payback.” said one of the Shell Gamers. “Our sector lieutenant literally wants his money back after buying one of your stupid artsy fartsy games.”

“But the game is free with a “pay what you want” option.”

“Shut up! Get ready for a jump, boys!”

The Shell Gamers charged at Null Node. With a swipe of their sword, Null was able to scare them into ducking for cover. That gave the cyberpunk a chance to rush off into an alleyway. The Shell Gamers couldn’t follow Null Node up a fire escape ladder unless they took off their clunky armor. The smug Null Node was halfway up to the roof before a window opened up in front of them, a Shell Gamer pulling the cyberpunk into the apartment, where the Shell Gamer slapped a spaghetti strainer onto Null’s head. The colander hat was covered in little devices and a whole mess of wires that let off sparks.

And then Null Node passed out.

X

“Hey. Are they awake?”

“Buzz off, I’m not checking unless I find a stick to poke ‘em with.”

“Scrapsap, c’mon!” 

Null Node came to a start slowly: There was a rusty robot, and some raven-haired guy in a pair of glasses and a bowling shirt bickering all the while. It appeared that they were in a gritty alien environment—the interior of a ship or base. Did the Shell Gamers send them all off to space or something? 

“Hey. Hey. Can we maybe take five seconds—minutes rather, and speak freely?”

“What? Oh yeah. I’m Scrapsap.” said the robot, mechanically extending an arm to shake hands with Null Node. “The geek here’s CLERK.”

“It’s CLARK!” spat the man. “Clark Raut, at your service.”

“Hey, I know you. From that talk show-- Speakeasy Station, right?” said Null Node, shaking Clark’s hand as well.

“Wow. Are you one of the many who send me death threats to read aloud on the show?”

Null Node shook their head.

“What? No. I like your livestream. Your critiques and skits are great too. But that does explain why those Shell Gamers brought you here. You must have dissed their favorite… I dunno. Movie? Game? Comic?”

“I diss a lot of things.”

Clark seemed to light up a little at the thought of having an audience that wasn’t hostile towards him, even grinning at Scrapsap, who was fishing for a five-dollar bill: Scrapsap had made a bet that the next person who had seen Clark’s show would be one of his many enemies. Fortunately, Null Node was a friend.

“But why would they kidnap a robot?” asked Null Node.

“I think they’re jealous of my tremendous appeal. Being that I kick ass and I’m so beautiful.” suggested Scrapsap. “And those Shell Gamers are… uh. They’re wet socks. Haw haw!”

“Damn.” said Null Node, looking to Clark. Both were nodding. “What a mystery. Let’s focus on getting out of here.”

The three wandered around the place for a while, trying to find their way out. Scrapsap had come across some sort of strange pad on the ground beside a ledge. In spite of Null Node and Clark’s best attempts to pull the robot away, Scrapsap proceeded to hop onto the pad, which increased his jumping power many times over, and launched him in an arc over to a hovering platform across the chasm before them. 

“Hey look!” shouted Scrapsap, holding up a set of upper body armor. “Somebody left their stupid football gear here.”

As Scrapsap said that, a shot rang out. An emerald-hued energy bolt of tremendous power proceeded to lay waste to Scrapsap. Mostly in that Scrapsap was so startled by the blast (which he could have survived), and then backed up off the edge of the platform he stood on, to fall into the abyss. Clark was screaming, Null Node panicking albeit in a more silent fashion. 

“Sup, boners.”

With a “BYUA!” sound and a burst of purple light, Scrapsap reappeared beside the cyberpunk and the self-styled critic.

“Scraps! How’d you survive that?!” exclaimed Clark. Scrapsap just shrugged, then pointed and laughed at Clark.

“Heck if I know! But I totally saw you blubbering over my DEATH.”

“I didn’t’!” lied Clark. “But… you’re right here. You clearly got teleported out.”

Null Node blinked. They had realized what was going on.

“No, he did die, Clark. He just respawned!”

And then in that moment, some kind of ancient intercom system began to blare. Words, no less!

“PEOPLE ARE A RESOURCE!” came a voice. “AND JUST LIKE RESOURCES THEY NEED TO BE MINED. SO THAT OTHERS CAN LIVE, IN A BETTER TOMORROW…”

“Is he talking about US?!” cried Clark. 

“AND I’M GONNA DO A LOT OF MINING. A LOOOOT. OF REDSTONE MINING—”

But the voice segued into rambling and laughter.

“I think. I think he kinda lost it there at the end.” said Null Node. “We gotta get out of here.”

The three started to sprint. Behind them were stray shots from the one trying to snipe them. Until at last, that figure appeared before them: With a white coat and tie, plus some pasta strainers and bowls that made up a helmet and shoulder pads.

“It’s the health inspector of the future: Judge Bread!”

“That’s RIGHT you UNCOOKED TURKEYS!” exclaimed Judge Bread.

“But why would a health inspector play video games?!” cried Clark.  

“It helps me pass the time until I am needed once more to deliver verdicts and damn the UNHYGIENIC!” gurgle-screeched Judge Bread. “You’ve been found to be unacceptably filthy in both exterior and your inside thoughts and feelings, how do you plea?”

Scrapsap made a fart noise and dived for cover with Null Node. That left Clark to get fragged by Judge Bread. Of course, when Clark respawned, he looked mortified.

“What is it, Clark?!” said Null Node.

“That dingbat Scrapsap didn’t tell us there’s a scoreboard!”

“It doesn’t matter!” shouted Scrapsap. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!”

“It does! The only way to win is if we score high enough.” said Clark. “And Scrapsap is at -1! You and I are at 0!”

For revealing that Scrapsap had the lowest score, the robot tried to extend his arms over to punch his companion into oblivion, knowing Clark could just respawn. Null Node slapped everyone aside at last.

“Then we gotta grab some weapons and score enough to get out of here! Those Shell Gamers must be around here in this digital warzone. I say we meet them head-on and punch our tickets that way.”

“And we’ll pay the toll… in hot lead!” spat Clark. “Alright. Scrapsap can go use his extendo arms to grab us some guns. Let’s you and me try to distract Judge Bread.”

Clark was the first out of cover. Null Node not far off. The two split off in different directions to keep their opponent busy while Scrapsap sought weapons. It seemed they had all started off unarmed, and all the other players around had gotten the jump on them. 

For Null Node it was surprisingly quiet for a while. They assumed Clark had kept Judge Bread sufficiently distracted. At least they did until they ran into Bread, who was currently experiencing the phenomenon known as “lag,” as the health inspector’s wireless fidelity took a massive drop. Before Null Node could escape, Judge Bread’s movement was corrected, and he lagged no longer.

“Testing. Testing.” said Judge Bread out loud. “Am I still lagging?”

“You’re good now I think.” said Null Node, before slapping themselves upside the head. This surely meant Judge Bread could finish them off. While Null Node backed up, Clark observed the events from a vantage point, and began foraging for something to defeat Judge Bread with, before jumping down.

“Ow, shit!” cursed Clark, taking slight fall damage. “Your honor, wait! You CAN’T shoot Null Node, because you WON’T BE ABLE to shoot Null Node, because—”

“Spit it out, boy!” hissed Judge Bread. But soon, Judge Bread was enamored with what Clark offered in exchange for Null Node’s life: a bottle of mouthwash. Judge Bread was notorious as the most dedicated of health inspectors, and he was practically shaking with delight at the sight of an item that could improve the thing he valued most.

“H-H-HYGIENE!”

Clark put the bottle on the ground and kicked it over to Judge Bread. Judge Bread took the bottle frantically, before shuffling away. 

“How did you find mouthwash in what I can only assume is a modded late 1990’s first-person-shooter game?” asked Null Node. 

“They did a promotional thing with the dental health company where the in-game armor pick-ups were mouthwash. I was able to exploit it using console commands.”

“And that’ll be the LAST time you cheat, CLARK.” came the booming voice again. 

“But is it really cheating if he just… re-skinned something?” said Null Node, pointing out that factoid. The booming voice just groaned.

“Ugh! Whatever. Just go to the CENTRAL OBELISK once you have enough points. And then in the POWER DOME, we will decide who games and who games NOT!”

Clark scratched his head.

“I think that clown knows you from somewhere.”

Null Node tried desperately to recollect who they might have antagonized in the past to deserve such treatment. Then reconsidered, as Shell Gamers would antagonize people over the slightest thing. It didn’t even have to be a major personal beef with someone else. Just purchasing the wrong color headphones or liking a video game they hated was enough to mark even the gentlest soul as a target. 

“Hey, quit brooding.” said Scrapsap. “I got us some guns.”

“We’re not brooding!”

Null Node was up first. They picked out a shotgun. Or something very much like a shotgun, it seemed to shoot lightning bolts in lieu of a spread of buckshot from shells. Scrapsap was carrying something resembling the model of carpet cleaner one could rent from a store, steam still rising fresh from its firing barrel. And then Clark was armed with a rocket launcher, but its ammunition seemed to consist of ball-peen hammers.

Now armed, the three stood back-to-back. Null Node had figured on navigating every corridor and crevice they could squeeze into, avoiding the more heated players and picking off novice stragglers to build up their points. At least, until the stragglers disconnected from the match in frustration. Soon, only the best players remained. 

“We’ve gotta make it to twenty points—where are we all at? I think I’m just about at 19.” said Null Node. “One more and I can go take on the Shell Gamer that put us here.” 

“I’m at 17.” said Clark with a sigh. “I got clipped a couple times back there and didn’t say. I’m sorry, Null. I might not be able to get out of here.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I’m at like 15.” said Scrapsap. “I keep falling off platforms. If you’re gonna be stuck here, you’re stuck with me too. And I’m gonna destroy everybody else. Because I wanna destroy you MYSELF Clark.”

“I’ll get you first, you rustbucket.” said Clark. “Regardless, even if we can’t get our points up we’ll at least distract some of the higher level players enough to let you do some damage.”

Null Node offered a small smile. But then they looked to their shotgun and shook their head.

“We should split up now. I’ll see you two by the Central Obelisk soon enough.”

X

Scrapsap felt quite safe wielding that gargantuan rental carpet cleaner weapon. There was absolutely nothing that could go wrong so long as he had his superior firepower, and nerves of literal steel. Or so he might have claimed: Scrapsap was actually very incredibly afraid he’d never be able to get out of this game. Forced to play with utter dweebazoids for time immemorial. 

Just then, the sound of a duck ‘quack!’ went off, and Scrapsap turned to aim: He’d spotted a Shell Gamer using some kind of ray gun to turn people into a duck.

“Oh no way, you got the Morph-O-Ray!” exclaimed Scrapsap. 

“What? No, it’s only the Quack-O-Ray, dum-dum.” said the Shell-Gamer. “The Sheepinator and the Chicken one are separate weapons.”

“Not as of the update. There’s a trick for it with the uh, the mouse-wheel and stuff. Here, try it.”

The Shell Gamer mulled it over for a while, before finally switching out weapons. Scrapsap nudged the Shell Gamer into doing so, before loudly ordering the Shell Gamer to fire right away. Which ended up launching a grenade that ate away at the Shell Gamer’s health, and then Scrapsap scurried over to punch them. When the Shell Gamer respawned, Scrapsap just gestured defensively.

“Whoa, go easy on me here: I thought you turned on me! Anyways you didn’t time it right. You gotta do it more like this, real fast but then back and forth. It takes a few tries, so don’t feel ashamed.”

“I’m not ashamed, I’ll prove I can do it and that you’re just a crappy teacher and player!”

After the rinse came the repeat, and Scrapsap scored another point.

“Good try, real close.” said Scrapsap, as they tried a couple more times. But rather than get angry, the Shell Gamer seemed kind of dejected.

“Thanks for being so patient with me, robot guy. My boss wouldn’t cut me nearly as much slack…”

“What? He sounds like a tool.” said Scrapsap, looking to see that his score was up to twenty points and he could easily progress. “C’mon, forget this lousy exploit. Let’s go micspam meme songs at people so they get annoyed. You deserve it.”

“Wow. Thanks!”

“Oh, and feel free to trash talk your boss all the while, I ain’t no snitch.”

“Funny you say that. So just before we started this whole scheme—"

X

Volcanicook was back at her truck, wondering where Clark and Scrapsap were at. Along with her current sweetheart, the half-crocodile cursed comedian called Lounge Lizard, they had formed a sort of friend group with a catchy name. The kind of name that would make for a great series title, or a larger franchise someday. Though they were hardly the only ones in the entertainment business—and as mutants at that, this motley crew saw fit to call themselves the Mutant Media Club. With the writer’s satisfaction at the in-universe title drop, the misadventure continues:

“Hey Vcook! Check THIS out.” exclaimed LL. The comedian was wearing a pair of roller blades, struggling to maintain balance. “Scraps promised we’d go to the roller skating rink. Wanna come with? I bet I can get us free food and stuff if I fake an injury!”

“Sure. But LL, have you looked at the time? Scrapsap and Clark have been gone a while. Come to think of it, I saw some Shell Gamers laughing it up about Null Node…”

Lounge Lizard gestured for Volcanicook to wait a moment, before pulling out their phone. Rather than look at the digital clock, LL was instead distracted by a text.

“Hey, Vcook. Go play Half-Quake.”

“LL. Muddy buddy. I know business is slow, but I should probably keep the truck going a little longer—”

“HALF-QUAKE PRONTO, MY VESUVIAN DARLING!”

Gesturing for Lounge Lizard to slow down, Vcook went to pull up a laptop she kept with her more personal non-cooking things in the truck. Once she booted up the game, Lounge Lizard was failing miserably to board the truck, slowed down by the roller blades they had yet to master.

“Here’s the server address. Do you see ‘em?” asked LL, throwing the phone into the truck.

“Not as well as I’d like,” said Vcook, rubbing one eye and picking up the projectile phone that landed in her lap after collision with her face. “But yeah: I see Scrapsap and some Shell Gamer being friendly. Clark’s sprinting through a hallway rabidly firing the Ball-Peen Hammer Bazooka in a bid for survival. Null Node’s not far off…”

And then Volcanicook got into the game as well, using her familiarity with the arena to obtain an oversized glue gun. It was like a large hose attached to a backpack loaded with the stuff, and she was proceeding to use it to entrap other players. Fighting her way towards her friends.

X

Clark was running for his life, but what else was new?

The ball-peen hammer bazooka was almost useful. He fired it low to the ground, and the hammers would bounce around in wide swinging arcs that took some health and armor points away from his opponents. But it wasn’t enough: He had to hurry and find a more direct weapon. 

The first sight of a pad emitting a hologram duplicate of a machine gun was halfway promising. Save for the fact the weapon pad needed a moment to manifest a solid copy, as indicated by a hovering circular loading bar. Clark tapped his foot impatiently, wondering when it would finally be ready. 

“C’mon, can’t you go any faster?!”

Just then, there was a small blinking red light: On the edge of the pad was a coin slot, with an insert for entire dollar bills as well. A handy infographic demonstrated that depending on the payment provided, it would make the whole thing go faster. A quarter would take off a second or two, a whole dollar would go halfway through, and for ten dollars it would completely disregard the duration. An added sticker also suggested that for twenty dollars or more, the weapon could receive exclusive skins for the in-game model, the price ever-rising. The only other way to attain them seemed to be via randomized loot boxes, or through a nigh-impossible amount of grunt work in the game that few had the free time to achieve.

“Wow! This STINKS!”

“No KIDDING!”

Clark nearly jumped out of his pixelated skin at the sight of his opponent: It was Judge Bread. 

“This wasn’t the deal, Bread. I gave you the mouthwash.”

“And it was good, for all its digitized worth.” rinsed and spat Judge Bread, putting the bottle away. “I blasted a few punks on the way here, came to give you my spare laser pistol.”

Clark had nowhere to leap to if Judge Bread was fooling with him. But sure enough, the health inspector was kicking over a weapon as promised. 

“… Why would you help me?” said Clark. “Won’t this prevent you from winning the match?”

Judge Bread scoffed.

“There’ll be other matches. Other weekends. But an upstanding young man like yourself is rare. You and I are both very critical of the world around us. And we share an affinity for mint flavored things. When the day comes that I can no longer harshly PAN a fool like a fresh hot LOAF, I will need a successor who can really stick it to these dirtbags and make them feel bad for liking things-- Hey! No need to start shooting at me yet. Just give it some thought. Here’s my card.”

Clark ceased firing frantically and took the card as Judge Bread dived back into the fray. The health inspector left Clark a few easy targets rack up points with—and Clark, not wanting to waste this opportunity, fired away. He could rejoin Scrapsap and Null Node up ahead. 

But at what cost? Was he doomed to be a nitpicking nuisance like Judge Bread? And worst of all, to eventually become like him? As cool as it would have been to shoot guns and be some sort of action hero, it was toeing the space beyond the line Clark walked, between being a mediocre schmuck and the descent into noise pollution and disturbing public peace to rant about meaningless details. He wanted to be heard though, inspire thought, and encourage analysis of the components that made up the media everyone consumed.

For now, he’d have to settle for having a blaster and supporting his friends.

X

Null Node had gotten up to twenty points. He was at the central obelisk, or whatever it was that their opponent had designated the point of their final battle. Ahead, Null could see a building of pillars and archways, in the olden Roman style. There in the shadows stood a figure in that homemade power armor. 

“Do you remember?” asked the Shell Gamer who masterminded this entire operation. “Have you figured out the mystery yet?”

“No, you’ve given me no hints or clues whatsoever.” said Null Node. “There’s no possible way anyone could come to a reasonable conclusion based on available information. Haven’t you ever seen a decent detective story in your life?”

“What-- forget it, alright. I’ll simply tell you, fool…”

The figure stepped out of the shadows. 

“I’m Shell Gamer #544. Colby. We went to video game programming camp together in middle school.”

Null Node had to stop and think about it. They were almost certifiably convinced Colby was just making this up for dramatic effect. But Null Node had to try! Null reached within the depths of their mind, using the full capability of their compu-power cybernetics to fire synapses and neurons and-- 

No, wait. Null Node remembered Colby now. The kid that kept bumming everyone else for their coding work. Actually, Colby did that during computer science class in high school and into college. There was never a stretch of time that Null Node wasn’t forced to acknowledge Colby’s existence. Colby was just such a rude jerk that everyone made an active attempt to forget about him. In Null Node’s case it nearly worked up until now that Colby had become a Shell Gamer. 

“Screw you. You couldn’t come up with an original idea or line of code to program it to save your life.”

“Yeah, but I’m still getting jobs.” sneered Colby. “With Triple-A game studios that make ultra-graphics masterpieces. You’re just a bunch of pretentious art snobs who don’t live in the REAL world.”

“Only because you basically sabotaged and robbed the efforts of everyone around you.” said Null Node. “And shut up, it doesn’t matter how great the graphics are or how realistic the gameplay is. None of that matters if people don’t enjoy what they’re playing. Whether it’s all play, a story being told as only an interactive medium can allow, or who knows what.”

“%$&# off. It’s time to end this.”

Null Node was going to draw their gun, but Colby had like ten or so other guys show up next to him. A few Shell Gamers, but mostly stragglers bought off with the promise of randomized loot crates. Gunslinging gamblers hired to make this fight unfair. Null Node looked around to try and find Clark and Scrapsap, but they were yet to arrive. Null didn’t blame them if they ditched, or couldn’t get their scores up in time. 

“Open the crates first.”

Null Node perked up at the sound of Clark’s voice as he walked into view. The Shell Gamers scowled, but their hired guns paused. 

“What do you mean? They’ve promised us high chance tyrian purple loot boxes. That’s a guarantee we’ll get good stuff. We even saw the loot boxes in their inventories.”

“It’s still a roll, cowboy.” retorted Clark. “You wanna risk your scores and reputation on a variable payment? We made it to twenty points. If we got to this final showdown, there’s a chance you might walk away with nothing, or earnings less than nothing. Every damn one of you will be made fools of.”

Just then, the gamblers turned their weapons on the fewer Shell Gamers.

“What is this?! Don’t let that geek tell you what’s what!” exclaimed Colby. “We know these games. We’re the Shell GAMERS.”

But the guns were still turned on them. 

“I may be a cutthroat sellsword of the digital realm, but I’m proud of how much time I put into this game to get where I am level-wise.” said one of the gambler-gunslingers. “Let’s go, posse. Greater glory and prizes await us in another server.”

The gunslinger-gamblers disconnected from the match. It evened the odds a bit. But it was still two against five. Clark had his hand over his side-- not actually wearing a holster, he just wanted to feel like the star of a spaghetti western movie, about to whip out a pistol from the holster. Waiting for Null Node, or the Shell Gamers to start firing. When the shooting started, there was a shock to be had.

Volcanicook had used her gluethrower to stick them all in place! All save for the fleeing Colby. Scrapsap and the reformed Shell Gamer came sprinting in, playing a musical mash-up of “YMCA” and “Highway to Hell” that left them all terrified. 

“Go ahead!” said Vcook. “We’ll handle these crumbs!”

Null Node just nodded, as Lounge Lizard appeared nearby, gator-sharp teeth clamped onto a foe’s exposed arm. Before they left, LL threw Null Node their favorite tactical katana.

“You dropped this back in the meatspace!” said LL. “Give ‘em HELL!”

Null just grinned, offering thanks before running after Colby. The two were eventually face to face on a bridge that spun away from the rest of the arena, to the point they couldn’t jump off without falling into a pit below.

“So, this is how it ends?” said Null Node.

“With you dying. And crying.”

“I can only do the latter before the former.”

Colby scowled.

“Don’t try to confuse me! Die!”

“Or should I cry first?”

“ERRAAAAUGH!!”

It was a war waged to the last. The two running every which way, jumping around to exploit movement glitches that would grant them greater velocity. Shots from their collected array of weapons went in every direction. And then the fact that the both of them weren’t really all that good at competitive arena shooter games became quite apparent as they continuously failed to hit each other, only occasionally scoring a lucky bit of damage every now and then as they frantically lashed out at one another. 

Until finally, Colby seemed to disconnect from the match abruptly. The arena around them began to crumble, as players scrambled to become the new host of the match before it all fell apart. And since the three unwilling participants were ported into the game by the Shell Gamers, they started to crumble too. 

“NO!” exclaimed Lounge Lizard. “FART MCMUFFIN, GRAB MY PAW!”

Clark reached out to grab his friend’s hand, but upon successfully gaining a hold and preventing the crumbling process, Lounge Lizard and Clark high-fived, which released Clark to his fate. Scrapsap laughed, reaching over with an extending robo-arm. But his mistake had been thinking a low-five would fare any different. 

And then Null Node woke up in a leather recliner seat, forcing off an oxygen mask that was also hooked up to an IV drip of Mountain Dew. Clark was not far off, emerging from a similar setup. On top of their “life” support technology, they were given virtual reality goggles. As for Scrapsap, he had just been plugged in via a USB or HDMI cable port into the master computer, where Colby sat. 

“The--the jig is up, Colby.” sputtered Null Node. “You’re outnumbered.”

“Give it up Gameboy, you don’t stand a chance.” said a dizzy Clark. “Why did they mess with the color contrast on my VR set?... eugh.”

Scrapsap was still powering back on. Colby turned his office chair to face them.

“You fools. Did you think my intention was to trap you inside the game forever?”

Clark squinted his eyes.

“That chart on the wall detailing the phases of your evil plan seems to confirm that for us.”

“What? No.” said Colby, tearing the paper chart off. “It’s just a bonus of my larger plan. Shut up. My real plan was to use you chumps as free beta testers for my Half-Quake mods and VR setup. Once I get this to the department heads, they’ll be thrilled! I’ll earn a king’s ransom!”

Clark separated Scrapsap from the USB cord that kept him in place. The three were running to grab whatever they could-- fire extinguishers, chairs, anything that they could physically utilize to destroy the place. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you: We’ll sue your pants off if any company machinery is damaged! After all: Triumph Electronic is the interactive software subsidiary of Triumph Studios. A larger organization YOU assholes still work for!”

Clark still held up the folding chair he’d found. Scrapsap was swinging his arms like windmills. Null Node held the fire extinguisher in hand. Though none discarded their improvised weapons, they could tell that retaliation would not come this day. 

“So… we can leave, right?” said Clark.

“I actually can’t stop you now in that regard, so yeah.” sneered Colby. “But in all your years to come, in your most private moments, you’ll remember this moment. Like, you’ll be in a shower and then you’ll just get haunted by the memory. That you were BETA beta testers, and I am an ALPHA male!”

“You realize that David Mech, who originally suggested the concept of Alpha male animal pack leaders in his 1970 book "The Wolf: Ecology and Behavior of an Endangered Species," has long since disproven?” pointed out Clark. “Mech himself came back in a 1999 paper to say wolves don’t fight for dominance but instead split off from the pack to form new ones and rule them because they’re parents leading their pups? Not to mention, the concept was actually first believed to have been observed in female chickens--”

“This is why no one likes you.” said Colby. “Get out of here already. I’m gonna get paid. Go whine about it online.”

“Colby’s a loser, let’s get out of here.” said Scrapsap, giving Clark a pat on the back and waving Null Node over to follow. As they exited the building, they could see the Magma Munchies truck in the distance coming to give them all a ride home.

“I can’t believe it. He won.” sighed Null Node.

“We don’t know that! Maybe his boss will call him a dingus and say the idea sucks. And fire him. And throw eggs at his house.”

“Scrapsap’s actually right for once. There’s no guarantee that Colby’s Mountain Dew life-support system will succeed. And even if it does we can point and laugh at it. Maybe I’ll make a video essay about how much it bites.”

Null Node tried to smile a bit at the thought. 

“Hey, I told Volcanicook but.. I don’t think I got to mention my newest project to you and Scrapsap. It’s called ‘Danger in the DMV,’ I think you’d like it…”

“Clever name! Tell us more?”

“I hate going to the DMV, it’s so time-consuming and stuff.” said Scrapsap. “Does your game capture the agony of waiting in line and taking a photo on the spot for your driver’s license?”

“That and more, Scraps.” said Null Node. “That and more.”

THE END… FOR NOW