#We indeed do love giant dogs

[l0ganberry]

this.

DOGDAY IS BIG AS FUCK

If he's that big without legs, I don't even want to know how he would be like with legs.

[freesia-writes]

Pets4Vets: Jesse (2/4)

Chapter 2 of 4 - Word Count: 3.2k - Jesse x Fem Reader Master List - previous chapter here

Jesse’s leg jiggled incessantly in his flimsy plastic chair in the reception area. He fidgeted with his fingers for a bit, then sat back, crossing them across his chest and lifting his chin. You swung open the door, datapad in hand, and scanned the empty room, stifling a grin at the fact that he nearly took up the entire corner. He was indeed “a big boy”, and his thin t-shirt made no attempt to conceal that fact. The giant Republic cog tattooed across his face and head was quite the statement, too. Resuming your businesslike manner, you invited him to follow you.

His eyes roved around your office as the door closed behind the two of you, the large window that made up the upper half allowing you to see people passing by outside. You felt a flicker of self-consciousness that surprised you as the faintest of smiles ghosted across his face at the sight of the many knick-knacks, memorabilia, and images that filled your walls. Past and present animals, with and without their owners, were peppered between what seemed like everything you had ever loved. But why should you care what some random trooper thought? You cleared your throat. 

“So… You’re looking for a large dog ‘or something equally badass’?” you asked, reading off your datapad. 

“Yeah,” he said, simultaneously proud yet a little unsure at his answer now that he heard it read back to him. “I just thought it’d be… nice. I’ve heard good stuff. Brothers seem to like their pets.”

“Many of them do, yes,” you agreed. 

“At least the ones that can’t land a girl,” he scoffed, laughing and nodding at you as though you’d wholeheartedly agree. You didn’t, and stared at him for a moment before deciding to let that one go. 

“The process might sound extensive, but the animals actually have a lot of nuance and personality, so we like to get to know our clients as well as possible so that we can find the best fit.”

“Ugh. You and the matchmaking people,” he blurted, pressing his lips together immediately. You realized he hadn’t meant to let that slip. Now you were torn about calling him out on it or not. Maybe feel him out a bit more first. 

“Yes, it is essentially matchmaking,” you grinned. “Many of these animals will be with you for a good portion of your life, so they do become a beloved partner in a way. Just don’t have sex with them.”

He guffawed so loudly he clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes large at the unrefined sound he’d just made. You couldn’t resist a chuckle at that one yourself. You did have a bawdy sense of humor at times, but it wasn’t always received well, so his laughter was a bit gratifying. 

“Just need to be clear on everything from the start,” you continued. He was trying and failing to arrange his features into the confident mask he’d worn through the door. You were surprised to find it endearing. But no time for that. “So… tell me about yourself. Your lifestyle. Your personality. Your priorities.”

“Kriff, that’s a lot. I mean… I was a soldier, obviously. Did a lot of wild and awesome things,” he grinned. Ah, back in his element. “Basically saved the galaxy. You know. You can show your gratitude in a variety of ways if you feel so inclined.” He ran a head over his bald head, leaning back to manspread a bit more on the other side of your desk. 

You didn’t know what to say, but apparently your face said it all.

“Anyway…” He coughed, then continued. “Now I’m apparently just a regular old person with a job and an apartment and a whole exciting life ahead of me…” A flicker of something crossed his face; you weren’t sure what it was, but you were suddenly quite intrigued. He moved on quickly, however. “So nowadays I work as a personal trainer at Dwight Schrute’s Gym for Muscles. Mostly afternoon and evening shifts. Cause I like to sleep in… After long nights, you know? Ahah.”

“I bet,” you murmured, swiping on the datapad screen. 

“I can tell you’re impressed,” he chuckled. You stared at him for a moment, unable to tell if he were being serious or not. “It’s okay, it happens to everyone.” Gods above, he was being serious. 

“I am… quite stunned,” you said, meaning every word. 

“Well don’t worry, I’ll pick you up if you faint.” 

“Mm. Thanks.”

“Nothing any hero wouldn’t do.”

“Naturally.”

“What about you? What’s your story?”

You looked up, taken off guard. Why would anyone be asking about your side of things? You were suspicious. “Nothing too exciting. I work here. Annnnd that’s about it. So you’d say you’re pretty active… Are you able to get outdoors a lot? If a pet needed a decent amount of exercise? Considering your sleep schedule, a crepuscular animal might be a good fit.”

“No crabs, lady,” he said, shaking his head and putting both hands in the air. “I’ve avoided those all my life and I’m not about to start now.” 

“Crabs?” you echoed, confused for a moment before it dawned on you. “Oh… Not crustaceous,” you clarified, biting back a giggle. “Crepuscular means animals that are most active in the twilight hours, so dawn or dusk. I suppose you’re not up early, but you mentioned a roommate? If they were able to give it a little attention in the early hours, you’d be on evening duty.”

“Alright,” he nodded, toning it down a bit. “I thought Massiffs were daytime animals though.” 

“They are. I don’t think that would be the best fit for you, though.”

He looked affronted, “You think you know me already?” A flash of a grin, both cocky and insecure.

“No,” you smiled. “But I know our animals, and I’ve gotten pretty good at reading vibes.” 

“Vibes?” he echoed, making no attempt to hide the condescension in his voice. 

“Energy, personality, whatever you want to call it. I’m good at pairing.”

“Ah, so you must have an amazing boyfriend then, eh?” he jabbed, unaware of the territory he was wandering into. The sharp look on your face gave him some clue, though, so he tried to correct. “Er, girlfriend? A theydey or gentlethem?” Then he gasped, forcing a conspiratorial look onto his face. “Is it even human?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absolute ridiculousness. Where did he get the audacity? He was probably expecting you to be overwhelmed or impressed or have some kind of diminutive response. But that wasn’t quite what you were feeling at the moment. 

“Actually,” you said, imitating his tone, “it’s a rancor.”

Now it was his turn to laugh, only this time it was authentic delight and surprise instead of the cocky little “ahah”s you’d been getting so far. You were grinning without meaning to, momentarily pleased by the awe on his face. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled, wagging a finger at you. “So you like it freaky.”

“I actually haven’t been on a decent date in over a year now,” you deadpanned, relishing the shock that replaced his swagger. He legitimately didn’t know what to do with that, and that felt wildly satisfying. “Anyway, that’s all I really need for today. The receptionist will book your next appointment on your way out.”

He was too speechless to craft any sort of cocky response as he shuffled out of the room. 

* * * 

“This place is LOUD!” you yelled to your friend over the music. You’d finally caved at her incessant requests to go to 79s, and after hours of fretting over what to wear and how to do your hair, since you were mostly used to work attire and a ponytail, you were there. You’d opted for a simple black dress but had left your hair down since you wouldn’t be surrounded by animals for a change, although your friend had laughed and said that’s exactly what you’d be surrounded by. 

“You’ll get used to it!” she yelled back, waving enthusiastically at a table of troopers that she apparently seemed to be familiar with. A few of them howled back, beckoning her over, but she pointed at the bar first, and a few of them pushed past one another to meet her there. It was odd to see them all gathered in one place without their armor. Since the Clone Rights and Personhood Act had passed, they had no need for anything other than civilian clothing anymore, but it was still unique to see so many people with the same face. Granted, they all had their own unique style and approach to individuality, but you just weren’t used to all of it quite yet. 

Your friend dragged you to the bar counter along with the troopers, each one wearing a different t-shirt over some plain jeans, and the flirting began immediately. You stood behind the group, squinting to try to make out what was on the menu. The choices were fairly slim… a couple of cocktails or some very watered-down beer, or so you’d heard. Maybe you’d just stick with water tonight. 

Or so you thought.

Two hours later, you were completely drunk, having given in to multiple offers of drinks and dances, and your face was flushed red from the thrill of it all. It was quite unlike you, but you didn’t care. The troopers were adorable and endearing, and you were having an absolute blast learning so many names, dancing like a crazy person, and enjoying the shenanigans of the rowdy bunch. A naval officer currently had his hands on your hips, a gleeful grin on his face as the two of you rocked to the music. You’d been self conscious at first about dancing for all of two minutes, but the clones didn’t seem to care at all. They were just there to have fun, and you’d quickly found yourself caught up in the joy of it all. 

You were tiring quickly though, having danced for almost an hour straight, and you thanked your partner before heading off to the side, leaning against the wall and fanning yourself for a minute. Touching your hands to your cheeks, you giggled at how hot they were. You felt so pleasantly bubbly, just a little dizzy, warm and fuzzy inside, and absolutely delighted with anything and everything. 

“Well well well. Didn’t expect to see you here.” A clone had appeared at your side, immediately recognizable by the giant Republic cog tattoo across his face. 

“Jesse!” you yelled, flinging your arms open and throwing yourself at him for a hug. He stepped back, surprised, and lightly touched your back before you pulled back to regard him fondly. “This place is great!!” 

He chuckled, eyebrows furrowed at the shocking departure from what he’d seen of your personality at the animal shelter. “Yeah, I mean… You alright?” he tilted his head as you giggled, smacking his chest playfully. 

“SO GOOD!” you squawked, hand sliding up to his shoulder, then down his arm. You gave it a squeeze, then dropped your hand. “Damn, lookin good, trooper. What are you doing?”

“Just… hanging out,” he grinned. “You lookin for some fun?” 

“I seem to have found it!” You waggled your eyebrows, stepping closer and toying with his waist. “This place is great!”

“Yeah, you said that,” he laughed. “Want to dance?”

“Hellz to the yeah!” And you started dancing right there, swinging your hair around like your life depended on it.

“Wow… Okay… Let’s get you some water first,” he suggested, now torn between concern and delight.

“Water is for boglings!” you squawked, grabbing his hand and doing your best to drag him to the dance floor. But he was significantly larger than you, and he tugged you right back. You collided with his broad chest and looked up at him indignantly. 

“Water first,” he insisted, tapping the tip of your nose playfully.

“Get out of here,” you laughed, swatting at his hand. “But fine... if it means I get to grind on those juicy thighs!”

“Deal,” he grinned. 

You gulped down the pathetic cup of water he’d been able to wrangle from the bartender, then the two of you hit the dance floor. Whether it was all the pent-up energy you’d choked down from your disappointing dates or just the sheer intoxication of… well… being intoxicated, you were happy to let loose. Jesse was smooth and strong all at once, hands growing heavier on your body as you writhed against him, and you reached an arm up to cup the back of his neck. He lowered his head, brushing his lips against your neck, and hot fireworks exploded throughout your core as you continued to sway together. 

“Want to get out of here?” you yelled, turning around to face him and gliding your hands down his front. Your hair was scattered across your shoulders, cheeks bright red on either side of a dumb grin, and he swallowed. His gaze darkened for a moment, and he pulled you a little closer, cupping your face and meeting your eyes with undeniable desire. But he looked at you for a moment longer, and his shoulders slumped a tiny bit. 

“I’ll walk you home,” he offered.

“No, I meant to bang!” you pressed, laughing in complete disregard.

“I know...” he chuckled, taking your arm and steering you toward the door. "I know."

* * * 

You woke the next morning with a raging headache and a sick stomach. You sank your face into your hands, groaning at your desk as you tried to read the datapad with bleary eyes. Only a few appointments today, thank the Maker. Cleaning the animal kennels had nearly made you throw up, so a quiet day of desk work was about all you could handle before crawling back home to your bed. Your friend who'd taken you to 79s had commed you far too early in the morning, gleefully informing you that you’d been “off the hook”, and while you’d dreaded the answer to your the question you had for her, she’d assured you that you’d messaged her upon arriving at home and that you went to bed alone. 

Whatever else had happened, you couldn’t remember. At least you didn’t have to get tested for "crepusculars", you chuckled to yourself. 

A light knock on your door rang loudly in your ears, and you squinted through your window at the receptionist, who was waving with far too bright a smile for the ungodly hour of 10am. She jerked her head behind her, giving you a not-too-subtle thumbs up as she opened your door and ushered in the cocky clone from a couple days ago. Something about him looked different though… Your wracked your brain but came up with nothing other than an unsettled feeling. Maybe you’d had a dirty dream about him… it wouldn’t be the first time some random client had popped up while you slept. Either way, you felt your cheeks redden slightly as he stepped into your office, the door closing behind him. Only when he sat in the chair on the other side of your desk did you notice that he had two smoothies in his hands, one of which he slid across to you. 

“Good morning,” he grinned, and your stomach dropped as you realized he seemed to know something you didn’t. 

“Morning…” you said suspiciously, taking the smoothie and inspecting it before looking back at him. “What’s this?”

“It’s a lil somethin from the gym I work at… All kinds of healthy crap in it… But it’s supposedly great for hangovers.”

You stared, heart sinking in your chest. What had you done…

“So,” he continued briskly, all business and innocence. “What’s the next step? Meeting some animals today?” 

“Yes…” you said slowly, entirely unsure of how to move on. You were kicking yourself for having been so careless… You were never the type to drink so much that you couldn’t remember. But you’d felt safe and had been so buoyed by the infectious atmosphere… Regardless, there was work to be done, and you turned to your datapad to avoid his eyes. “There are a few different options that I had in mind after reviewing your file…”

“Is that what you call it…” he murmured, causing you to jerk your head up so fast that it throbbed. You winced, rubbing your temples and taking a sip of the smoothie. It was surprisingly refreshing, and you took a few more gulps, staring at him skeptically. 

“Alright,” you snapped, equally indignant and resigned. “Out with it.”

“With what?” His angelic smile made your heart skip a beat, which further added to your confusion. 

“Whatever you’re gloating about.” 

“You just seem so… professional in here…” he said, taking a leisurely sip of his own smoothie before putting it down with a flourish. 

“And…?”

“And a little more laid back when you were grinding on me like your life depended on it last night.”

You were stunned into silence, mouth falling open a little bit as you stared at him, speechless. You couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t even your type. Plus, you doubt he would have let you go home alone if you’d done what he was accusing you of. 

“You’re lying.”

“Mmkay,” he shrugged. Somehow that made you even more incensed. 

“So what else happened?” you challenged, lifting your chin a little bit. 

“Drinks and dancing. You really like to fling your hair around,” he chuckled. “Then I walked you home.”

“And?” you squinted. 

“And that’s it. You said you could make it up to your apartment. Did you?”

“Yes,” you sighed, relieved that your report to your friend had been accurate. But it struck you as odd. Wouldn’t he be the type to take advantage of your momentary lapse in judgment? 

“But if you still want to ‘bang’, as you put it, I’d be happy to oblige.” He folded his arms behind his head, showing off his muscles and arching an eyebrow at you, unfazed by your grimace and audible groan. 

“Did I really say that?” You didn’t even really want to know the answer. 

“Mhm. Didn’t know you wanted me that bad.”

“Kriff,” you muttered under your breath. Why did it have to be him? Of all the troopers in that Maker-forsaken bar… This was beyond repair. “I’m gonna have my colleague Tosak take your case,” you said suddenly, rising to your feet and grabbing your datapad. “He’ll be able to pick up where we left off and you should be able to take your animal home by the end of the week.”

“Wait, why?” Jesse stood up quickly, dropping the cocky facade immediately. 

“You expect me to be professional after that?” 

“No,” he answered bluntly, and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Exactly,” you sighed, the flicker of a smile touching your cheeks. “It’ll be better this way.” You slipped out the door, once again leaving him in your office, mouth slightly open with a million different things to say.

Next Chapter

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[germhammy]

“Pilgrim World takeover chaos”

Candace: oh hello, Wednesday, Enid. Today is a tad chaotic. We need to clear out the meeting house and store away the props and artifacts. They are going to be using it to film a Netflix series. Or at least a 3 episode story.

Enid: aren’t you excited?

Candace: yes and no? Lou Anne put me in charge of the Goody artifacts. But we won’t be open for two to three months. And Lucas isn’t too happy about people coming to ‘visit the set’ later on down the road

Wednesday: that will be unfortunate. When I described the place as a ‘small town in Vermont’ and they picked my story? I did not expect them to actually look for a small town in Vermont let alone pick Jericho where my mind was when I wrote it

Candace: wait what? You wrote the script of this show they are filming?

Wednesday: the story. Not the screenplay. Lucky for you I did not know you then so there is no character based on you.

Enid: wait. It’s horror based and I’m in it right? The one scared of everything? I come out alive right?

Wednesday: I am not spoiling anything. You will have to watch it

Enid: WEDNESDAY!

Wednesday: -kissing Enid on the cheek- yes you live. You will recognize yourself as the others.

Enid: I love it! I can’t wait! I still want to be an extra!! Oh! Are there ghosts? Maybe Candace can be a ghost!

Candace: -laughing- oh my god! Is that Tom Burton? Is he involved in this? Is he directing?

Mr Burton was just casually walking about. Getting to know the town, the locals as he knew the production presence would disrupt things. He spotted a familiar face and approached

Mr Burton: Wednesday? What are you doing here? Production does start until the end of the month. Is your mother here?

Wednesday: the boarding school I attend is on the outskirts of Jericho.

Mr Burton: I see. This will make things a bit easier. Oh and Thames had to back out at the last minute so he will not be directing the second episode

Wednesday: Will you be taking over?

Mr Burton: unfortunately not. I did say I would be willing but Mr Gunn picked his own replacement and both Ms Rowling and Mr Johnson both agreed so I was outvoted. Although I am the main producer and director? Mr Johnson and Ms Rowling are the main financial backers other than the network. I even stated that ‘Miss Addams surely would NOT be onboard with this and would prefer I take on the director duties’

Wednesday: do I even ask?

Mr Burton: Teariki Waipapa

Wednesday visibility cringed

Enid: what the frick? They are aware this is a horror story?

Mr Burton: he wants the challenge

Wednesday: challenge of what? Turning my scary story into something laughable? I already had to put my foot down enough times with Ms Rowling to stop making my creatures less mindless and bloodthirsty or overly aggressive and vicious

Mr Burton: indeed.

Wednesday: your designs are ridiculous however I get that. You do not insist on turning a ferocious werewolf into a giant puppy or drooling flesh eating war dog. Will you be overseeing the post production?

Mr Burton: I will. I am sure Mr Johnson and Ms Rowling try to influence things there as well.

Wednesday: I do not wish any of my creatures to end up as a big muscular bully such as Mr Johnson

Mr Burton: understood. I will make you a photocopy of my script with my director notes I have made so far. Feel free to go over them and make your own notes. I will try to get Teariki’s as well. Who are your friends here?

Wednesday: this is my girlfriend Enid. I based Ellie on her. This is Candace. She is an actor here at Pilgrim World. She plays Goody Addams

Mr Burton: would the two of you like to be cast as extras?

Enid: I would!!

Wednesday: I have something to say about that. Do not by any means cast a person by the name Xavier Thorpe. I will send you a photo of him. And you may send anything you need to physically see like the scripts to Nevermore Academy, Wednesday Addams Ophelia Hall Tower Room

Mr Burton: noted. I will see you around. Your mother has sent me your phone number. Don’t hesitate to text me if you have questions, Wednesday

Mr Burton walked off.

Candace: oh my god. I can’t believe Tom Burton is in charge of directing your story! Is this for Tales From the Other Side? I absolutely loved the first season of stories!!

Wednesday: yes. My family had a good laugh watching. When they announced the contest over Thanksgiving last year and they wanted to up the horror my brother challenged me to write a story. When my story was chosen as one of the winners I had no idea they would be going into production so quickly.

Enid: I guess everyone involved was already on board and they just picked a winner they liked? Wait. There’s a creature right? It’s not the Hyde is it?

Wednesday: no. It’s sort of based on the Jersey Devil. I describe it as a kangaroo goat headed rat bat. Mr Burton made a really great hideous silly drawing of it. I absolutely loved it. Ms Rowling wanted to make it more kangaroo like, more cuddly. Mr Johnson wanted to make it really muscular and giant.

Candace: oh my god. I can make really scary screams! Maybe I can see if I can make the monster noises!

Enid: that would be so funny! Maybe? Wednesday! OMG. We should record her and make it the proximity alarm so when Xavier gets too close?

Wednesday smirked

[hrodvitnon]

Regarding that one ask, I heavily disagree with it and I dare say that person is completely wrong about Godzilla's intentions. Based on what these pages from Godzilla Dominion shows, as a well as Mike Dougherty's own tweet regarding this fic, it's nowhere near as one-sided as some people think it is, and as you can see, Godzilla himself remembers Serizawa's sacrifice as well as the time he lived alongside humans, seeing as his definition of home is a place where he lived with humans that loved and worshipped him.

But wait, there's more! Before certain people come out and say that those aspects have been "retconned", Godzilla is shown to be sleeping peacefully at the Roman Colosseum in GxK, and in the novelization, it flat out says that he sleeps there because misses his old temple at KOTM and that he might still have a soft spot for people. Not to mention in GxK in general, Godzilla clearly has a connection with the Hollow Earth Iwi tribe. Who are, you know, humans.

Also Monarch: Legacy of Monsters further reaffirms that Godzilla is ultimately a benevolent being who's just doing his job keeping titans and humans from harming each other.

If people can accept the idea of a giant apes being benevolent protectors with zero strings attached, then there should be no problems accepting that the giant lizard is exactly like that too, especially because there's been no real evidence to say otherwise (and again, like the examples I've shown and mentioned, they actually further prove that Godzilla is indeed a benevolent protector and that Serizawa / Monarch, as well as other people who similarly trust in him like Shaw, is right to trust in him). And if people say that it can't be the case because "rEpTiLeS cAn'T fEeL fEeLiNgS jUsT LiKe MaMmAlS cAn", well then I am sorry to say, but Mothra disproves that just by existing.

Because hey, if you make a false equivalent between these fictional giant monsters and real life animals they took inspiration from, then by that same logic, Mothra should be an emotionless thing that acts only based on instincts and self-preservation because she's a giant insect. But she doesn't, and she's a genuine protector who also goes out of her way to avoid killing (even sparing those who attack her whenever she can) and in GxK, she even goes out of her way to save humans. Not even Kong did that in the movie btw, and if anything, the movie shows that Kong accidentally kills some humans in Egypt.

But yeah. It's really exhausting how these people just keeps reducing Godzilla's more nuanced character traits. Especially since Godzilla has always been a sympathetic character going as far back as the original 1954 movie (though Heisei era is the best example of that), but for some reason, these people now suddenly have a problem with that just because Godzilla shares screentime with Kong. And in these people's logic, Kong is Good because he's mammal and therefore relatable, while Godzilla is BAD because he's reptile and therefore "not relatable".

If people in real life can compare their pet lizards to dogs and treat them with as much love as they would a dog, we can have Good Guy Godzilla (who is still a big ol' grump willing to put down repeat offenders like Scylla while being nostalgic for humans and being anxious without Mothra's presence). It's okay. We can have a Godzilla who maintains the worldly balance while still being a proud warrior beast who enjoys fighting and when he's not fighting he can even feel lonesome in some way, these are not mutually exclusive.

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi - Quick Reacts (CHA 17: Raspberries)

DID WE LOSE OUR BOY????? 

We all need a friend like Chilchuck.

.......................I wonder if it really IS a health enough ecosystem to sustain itself OR if someone is going around resurrecting monsters. 

........................................or the adventurers and everything else are just the microbiome of a giant beast. 😌

or maybe the real beast was capitalism all along.

I’ll second that. HUH?

baby Marcille time? 👀

...............Press X to Doubt.

Is that REALLY how it went down? 

..........what ARE those spirits? Aside from being utterly adorable with their cheering as they are released like some sort of plankton into a beaker filled with mana, which is presumably what they feed on... we don’t really know much about them?

Are they.......human spirits? Something else??????

This is saying so much and nothing at all, and at the same time feels. Eerily important. 

So the dungeon is a source of contained mana. An ecosystem with magic, where spirits - humanoids and monsterkind - are kept alive by the mana? But also if there’s too much of it, or too little, they die. 

This presumes that there is no mana on the outside world. And mana must be obtained and collected in the dungeon. By what means? Does it just kinda permeate into you naturally? Does eating monsters help you get more mana??

Do people who are outside lose their mana? Is there other sources of mana? Is it inherent to everyone? 

And if not..........who is the keeper of the actual dungeon they’re traversing now? Is it all just an experiment on a larger scale????

THE RETURN OF THE DOG

Interesting. What would Marcille consider useful as a monster? Plantlike monsters? She seems opposed to eating them, so what else is there? 

IS THAT FALLIN

Fallin was previously described by Marcille as... REALLY strong. This seems to be a curious beginning for her, if that’s the case. 

...................what happened to Falin and Laios’ parents, huh. 

well..................fermentation DOES speed up the creation of spirits. 😂

Did she raise them...? Or is there something else at play???

......................the real dungeon.......has impurities in the soil and holes in the barrier and the mana is weakening? Is that what’s driving monsters to the top layers? There’s an unbalancing of the ecosystem so they’re all trying to get more food and consequently pushing the whole niche system up? 

Secret tunnel, secret tunnel............

Aww, look at her widdle face. 

I love them. 

An incredible dynamic already, this is fun. 

If the dungeon is indeed like a giant animal or an organism... the fact that it’s bleeding mana and has poisoned areas does not bode well. It’s almost like a rotting carcass at that point, being pillaged for its resources while it slowly expires to the point of not being useful.....

Is this..........A dungeon? Or THE dungeon? Are they one and the same? Are they all connected?? 

Marcille and Senshi are surprisingly alike. 

I’m gonna need a bigger corkboard.............

Awww, she’s so serious! She really does have noble goals, even if her approach is a bit naive. 

okay but.

Why are they so wholesome? 

Marcille is clearly popular and respected, but instead of throwing aside Falin’s way of doing things she asked questions. She asked to see her process. She didn’t react well to things she doesn’t know a lot about (grasshoppers, raspberries) but she was willing to learn! She didn’t just bully or dismiss Falin for being different, she actually wants to collaborate! 

THESE GIRLS

Chilchuck is kinda with me on this one lmao

......If the dungeon really is man-made, I think you’re gonna have bigger issues than simply one magician. That’s literally a terraforming demigod that fucked around without having a Dungeon Degree. 

I love them.

oh it’s on you guys.

.................Marcille is kind. 

Yes, go rescue your girlfriend, Marcille!!! I believe in you!!!

[jungle-angel]

Loving the fall themed prompts! Can I request 49 for sweet Bob please?

AAAAAAGGGH!!!!!! Babes of course!!! Sorry if I haven't compiled all my prompt lists together but this is just perfect and so Bob coded I can't shake it!! (lol).

Bozeman, MT

Fall, 2023

Moving to Montana had been the best decision that you, Bob and the Daggers had ever made. After his honorable discharge had gone through without a hitch, you and Bob immediately put a down payment on the land, the house and everything, hoping with all hope that it would be yours.

California, though a huge part of yours and Bob's lives, had been too much. Leemore had been an absolute disaster, the townspeople spreading rumors about the two of you that were utterly nasty and untrue as far as the Daggers were concerned. Bob was absolutely furious when the rumors had reached his ears, going to whatever lengths he could to prove that he was devoted to you and your children.

Mirimar had been better after you and Bob had left Leemore behind forever, wanting to move closer to family and friends and to be near the coast. Yet even with Bob's pay-grade and future pension, it wouldn't be enough to be able to pay for housing. Even other Navy families with mouths to feed, found that they could barely make ends meet, even with the help. But once Bob's father had called and told you that the final payment went through on the land in Bozeman, you, Bob, the Daggers and the rest of the family were set.

And now, two years later, you and Bob were thoroughly enjoying yourselves with fall finally having arrived. Auggie and the other older Dagger kids had all started at the local Waldorf school and would continue their education there right up through high school. You yourself, taught there during the school year and helped Bob work the ranch in the summer. Your dreams of a blissful, happy, domestic life had finally, at long last, come true.

The screen door of the house squeaked open and crashed closed with a loud *BANG!* as Bandit, Bob's little blue heeler, bolted right out across the porch and leapt down the steps, barking like mad.

"Bandit, what are you doing?!" you called, half laughing, half startled.

The dog hardly heeded your words as he ran towards the giant leaf pile in the yard that Bob had just blown, diving right in and causing the kids to squeal with joy.

"Bandy!" Bob called. "Bandit! Come!"

Bandit barked and followed his master's orders, sitting right at his feet and wagging his tail, Bob cleared away a few leaves stuck to his fur before Bandit was once again off and diving into the leaf pile. You joined Bob once you had finished your coffee, watching with pure love as your children and Bandit wrestled with each other in the huge pile of crunchy leaves.

"Whaddaya think sweetheart?" Bob asked, smiling broadly. "Perfect start to a good autumn?"

You stood on your toes and kissed Bob's lips. "I couldn't have asked for better," you told him sweetly. "Now what do you say we get in that leaf pile with'em?"

Bob went absolutely bug-eyed at the thought, the two of you laughing as you dove in with Bandit and the kids with leaves flying everywhere and the squeals and laughter filling the air around you. It was indeed, the perfect start to a new season and one in a sea of beautiful memories that you and Bob had created together.

[abundantchewtoys]

Beyond Canon re: p695-707

Oooh, I had seen people theorize the letter was from Rose, glad to see it is indeed by Tavros.

Wow, he seems a lot more articulate in writing, or maybe it's just a long time since I've read his logs/dialogues.

It's intriguing that Yiffy might like Tavros best out of the four kids, given his relation to Jane. Or well, it's that she tolerates him best. His introvert personality might help most, I think.

Gotta love Harry indeed helping himself to the trail mix. And wouldn't you know it, of course Vrissy & Harry go outside again. It's like the nature of the danger is still not sunken in with Vrissy. That might be changing soon now.

Because eesh, Jade realizes that Yiffy's gone, and gets distracted. Did she use her vision omnifold? You know, what she needed glasses for to do during the session, but which might come naturally now that she's a Space god & dog tier?

I can only hope her current efforts (trying to protect an empty spaceship as she thought it housed all the kids) aren't counted as Heroic. But I'm not hopeful.

And that Jane actually decides to press the button on her orbital laser... Ughh.

Gotta wonder how the Point comes out of this. The old meteor is probably done for, but that piece of equipment might be made of hardier stuff.

In any case, I presume John getting blasted wouldn't count as Heroic. But we didn't see if Roxy (and Calliope) were near - though from Rose's predicition I presume Calliope at least is elsewhere.

Wow, the blast not only can be seen from the tower I presume was where Dirk went to die, it's also causing the earth to shake all the way over there.

The laser looks similar to Ahab's Crosshairs, come to think of it.

I'll admit, I thought this was really it for Act 1, it felt like a similar note to end on like Homestuck Act 1. I appreciate the flash is still gonna be a part of this Act, presumably.

Felt weird to see the story using orange curtains, but now I realize it's also the font color of the Beyond Canon site. It's also presumably the colour of the session that Dirk's people will initiate.

Speaking of:

My god, of course my first thoughts when seeing grey hands were trolls. But then I noticed the claws, and thus...

Of freaking course. I hadn't considered it, but of course some of the people's are already in contact with the Candy timeline. Event horizons be damned. ;) Guess the timeline isn't so isolated, after all.

Specifically, note, they've contacted Vrissy. Apart from her status as the child of two of the rebellion leaders, I wonder what might have motivated this person to contact them.

I mean, now we can really start to theorize about the four Candy kids to enter a session of their own and gaining classpects! (I guess we'll just assume for now their dreamselves are all still asleep.)

But first.

gavageCunctation's quirk appears to be about a bomb with a lit wick. And at the end of the conversation their computer exploded. It didn't look that good in the picture either, with those cracks and leaks. Like an unholy combination of human and trolltech.

Is that indicative of the species? Are Dirk and Rose's attempts at sentient life actually incredibly genetically unstable and at risk of dying out in a few generations (at this point in Deltritus' timeline, I mean)?

So, the new GC is contacting Vrissy. It's a parallel to Calliope talking with Jane, and Karkat talking with Jade. Not much else we can conclude from that, I think, beyond that it might very well be Vrissy that instigates them starting a session. Which, given her current obsession with doing something relevant, is not a surprise. I figure that on the side of Deltritus it might be 2 or 4 players from both Dirk's and Rose's species, for a total of 8 or 12 players. I'm assuming it's gonna be one giant shared session, but this is S***b and we know how convoluted it can get.

"GC: i'm going to play TC's game with some of my friends today..."

I know this might seem as if GC and TC will have more friends in the same species, but yeah, not sure. Dirk might have claimed it's a race to see which species will "win", but S***b has shown that dividing into two teams can be a futile effort. It would also be good if GC & TC's friend circle already included both species, as a way to further spit in the face of that idea of rivalry.

"AA (that's oomf)---*"

Not sure what to make of this part though. I mean, AA is another player, but what about the bracketed part? Is the quirk just such that they light a wick to brackets as well? Is "oomf" a name, a nickname, an adverb?

The way GC rambles in their log, at least, reminds of Dave, but I'm interested to see more of them, it's been an intriguing sneak peak!

I suppose the rest of the roster will also use taghandles whose acronyms are not yet covered by the Candy kids, but boy, it’s gonna be a bit messy in the future to ever again refer to someone by their chum handle, any way. I assume the number of total players will be less than 13 though, so that four combinations won’t be reused. But since Harry uses thespiansGlamor [TG] and Tavvy glutinousGymnast [GG] (I had to look it up), we do have overlap. I think odds are high Yiffy uses TT and GT, John’s old handle, continues not being in use by any of the main cast.

Oooh, but now I see that on p472, GC had already been teased in Vrissy’s chumroll! ... If recidiviousGainsayer is also one of the Deltritus crew, there might in fact be a lot more of them. The R would then be in reference to RNA, where the GCAT letters were solely for DNA... Now, if I wikipedia it, I see that RNA contains the U base instead of the T, and not an R base, but I can see how the Beyond Canon crew might want to reserve the u/U handle for cherubs (even if no more get introduced than we already have) and substitute it with an R! ... But then why would there also be a TC though. ... Yeah this won’t end with the 64 Squiddle player session, but I feel like I should still at least imply it. <.< >.>

As for the news post, welp, guess we're in a for a wait for the next update! Second big pause in Beyond Canon, I think?

Who's betting they'd like to bring it out on 01/08 (January 8th) for the funny number factor?

[deusexlachina]

Cheeseaged Exocolonist Age 15: Use my transcendence of time to cheat at cards

In which I befriend a furry by financially ruining him, in order to reach my full potential and ascend as an autistic god.

Year 15 starts with your home in ruins. There's no special dialogues, and only two ways to pass the first three months: help rebuild or mourn. I choose to mourn, because this is Sol's first time experiencing death (in this lifetime), and because, having maxed out Organizing, rebuilding is highly suboptimal, whereas mourning lets me avoid stress and trim my deck of useless non-blue filth.

Because I chose the sportsball, I find it when sifting through the rubble of my room and get this rather sad dialogue.

Mourning gives you many opportunities to level your Empathy. However, because I have the In Mourning status, all my stat increases are reduced by 1, rendering every single one of these +1 boosts completely worthless.

This always happens, because Kom always dies. I'm not sure if this was an attempt to really underscore how hurt Sol is, an oversight, or a straight-up troll.

After three months of developing my Empathy in nonexistent amounts, the Heliopause arrives, and Sol's home is gradually taken over by fascists who enthusiastically spread disease, worship the military and hate transgender people. I enjoy visual novels because it's a fun escape from the problems of the real world.

Fortunately, there are exactly two nice Helio kids, Nomi and Rex. Nomi is an nonbinary AuDHD techie and Rex is a furry engineer. Rex often reminds you that he is part dog, in case you had missed the ears. His dog traits include a reduced lifespan. This is not, to be clear, a setting where people just have mutations. This was a deliberate genetic augmentation. Someone purposefully made their kid part-dog. Incidentally, Nomi likes anime, so here's a panel from one of my old favourites, Fullmetal Alchemist. They've never seen that one, so really this picture wasn't relevant. Sorry.

I improve my friendship level with Rex by giving him sticks, his favourite item because he is part dog. Rex is easier than most to befriend because he enjoys physical affection, because he is part dog. I love Exocolonist, so rather than saying anything bad about the game here, I will reiterate that my favourite character is Tangent, because she's a complex person with a well-integrated character arc in dialogue with the central themes. The writers really took their time to make a fleshed-out character with deep relationships with the others and multiple character traits.

Once I have high enough friendship with Rex, he wants to play cards with me. I wait to play cards with him until after Vertumnalia, where I beat both Tangent and Nomi at the trivia game. The card you get from doing Trivia is worth 8, making it as powerful as the card you get for defeating a giant in a fight to the death. Better yet, it's blue. Why do I keep picking blue cards? You're about to see.

After Vertumnalia, I am Popular because of my detailed knowledge of pop culture trivia. I would fit right in on Vertumna, except it is currently ruled by fascists. We'll take care of that, but first we need to arm ourselves. Popularity doubles the amount of kudos you get for three months. From all sources. Now's the time to take Rex up on his offer to play cards. Rex is good at cards, but he has one critical weakness: he's playing against someone who has played this particular game countless times. I use my past-life knowledge to win the game, betting 100 kudos that I have a better card.

Sorry, make that 200. Sucker.

I now have a vast wealth of kudos, most of which I gained from cheating at cards by consulting my past lives. With this ill-gotten fortune, I buy the ultimate weapon in the game, which is surprisingly not the Drone Rifle, an actual gun. It is a "vintage focus device," a fidget spinner. Because Sol is very autistic indeed, a fidget spinner allows her to reach her full potential by letting her stim. Accessibility tools being a luxury you have to buy - in fact, the most expensive luxury in the game - paints a very bleak picture of the colony's ability to handle disability.

That would be just a joke, but Nougat's learning disability, Tangent's drug abuse and burnout, Dys' (potentially literal) alienation and Tammy's phobia of nearly everything all go pretty much neglected unless you step in. It's interesting how much Vertumna recreates the same oppressive structures that it is an attempt to flee from.

Fortunately, we can get rid of ableism through autistic world domination, to which we are one step closer.

[willshipanything-blog]

Breaking the Rules- Chapter 17

So, my goal was to finish this by last week... 👀 but, this is a mega bumper chapter sitting at 7500 words, so hopefully the wait was worth it!

If I could summarise this chapter in three words, all three would be 'rage', if that's any indication.

As usual, warning tags apply, so minors DNI!

Full tags, as well as the fic if you prefer, is on AO3 here.

Full tumblr chapter index can be found here.

Enjoy lovelies! ✌️✨💜

Chapter 17- Temper Temper

Both you and Max had swiveled your heads towards the sound of Al’s incensed knocking, watching the door dumbly as if it might open of its own accord. Or, more likely, as if it might be flung off its hinges and come crashing down under Al’s raging fists. 

Max whirled towards you, the soft expression now vanished as his eyes flitted wildly to yours. Each of you stared silently at the other, the backdrop of curses and banging and Samson’s defensive barking almost lost as you looked into those huge brown pools brimming with worry. You attempted to set your face into a calm expression to offset Max’s distress, even though each pound on the door made you jump a little in your skin. Each dull thump on the wood akin to the van doors slamming shut, with you in the back, unable to escape- but no: you needed to keep that image away, lest you tempt fate and invite that monster back into your life. Things were ok. It wasn’t the Grabber at the door like some ominous reaper of death. It was Al. Angry as he was, he was still the man you loved. 

“What the fuck is going on, Y/N?” 

“He’s- he’s just worried I left, that’s all. I didn’t tell him I was coming, and with me laying low, he gets upset when he doesn’t hear from me.” Not technically a lie, but fresh from your recent confessions, the concealment of the entire truth- however necessary- tasted bitter on your tongue. 

The worry on Max’s brow appeared to wane just a little at your excuse, though he looked far from placated. He clearly wasn’t fully convinced that things were ok, and perhaps with the rageful presence at his own front door, snarling your name through the wood, Max wouldn't be convinced that you were indeed as safe as you had assured him. He didn’t know you could handle that flaring temper of Al’s. In fact, Al had never exerted it like this in front of his brother before. The one time Al had enacted such violence around Max was to retaliate against his father’s abuse- and Al had ensured Max was far away from that brawl when he’d struck back. You’d do the same now- keep Max away from any hint, any idea of a monster thrumming under Al’s skin. That deep, black well that held the possibility of so much hatred and violence and rage. You and Al might drown in it, eventually- but you couldn’t let Max so much as dip a toe in those waters. 

You hissed Samson’s name, whose eyes and teeth had been firmly locked on the threat behind the door, but he reluctantly obeyed and padded to you, where you held him tightly to your body. A comfort for him or yourself, you weren’t sure, but it placated the giant dog as the pounding and rattling outside continued. A tall silhouette behind the gauzy yellow curtains (Al trying to glimpse through the windows) had you thankful that Max hadn’t yet opened them. However, you were less thankful when Max gave a discontented sigh and mumbled that he was ‘gonna get to the bottom of this’ as he inched towards the door. 

“Max!” you let out a desperate whisper which he ignored, still aiming for the door. Even Max had reached his limit, and his usual courtesy had been eclipsed by a determination to confront Al about this situation. You released Samson and leaped across the room as Max’s hand gripped the doorknob, your own sweaty palm landing atop his. He froze, wide-eyed at you as you continued your pleading:

“Please, Max. Don’t do this. We don’t need to make this a bigger deal,” his hand shifted beneath yours, but you held firm, your eyes burning into his, and he stilled. It was quiet then, and you realized the thunderous knocking on the door had stopped. Al was still outside- you could sense it all too easily- and you wondered how much of the inside conversation he could hear. Whether he was holding a matching anticipatory breath to his brother, just on the other side of the door.

“Please,” you continued, your voice cracking as you looked into those innocent chocolate eyes “You know I’m keeping secrets from you. You have your own secrets you don’t wish to tell,” you cringed inside at the thought of using Max’s private preferences in such an insidious, almost threatening way, but swallowed the bile in your throat and persevered “And Al is keeping things from everyone. Can we just let things go back to how they were before, for everyone’s sake? Let me take care of all of…this,” you motioned with your head to the door, to the man you both knew still stood behind it. 

It was a toxic circle of secrets, though they weren’t equivalent; yours outweighed Max’s by a hefty margin, and Al’s were so heavy, so incalculable it was dizzying to think about. You hated how you’d lumped them together like this, all for the sake of self-preservation and protection. Max’s secret wasn’t illegal, or shameful, or wrong- but if he didn’t want to confess everything to Al and to the world, if the thought of judgment or fear of openness made him wary of confessing who he was, maybe at least he’d understand a little of your pleas to let things lie. 

Your other hand grasped Max’s forearm; a beseeching squeeze of your clasping fingers and a final imploring look from you had him nodding his head slowly in consenting (but clearly uncomfortable) acquiescence. You followed his silent gesture to step back as Max opened the door. The security chain allowed it to open just a few inches, enough for Max to face his brother, but from where you stood in the room, you could only hear that low growl speak to Max.

“Let me in.” His fists might have stopped pounding, but that voice still held a cold flame of anger, and you pictured those same fists balled at his sides, the taut muscles in his forearms ready to knock down the door if need be. Knock down the whole house perhaps, if the wolf was denied entry.

“Al, you need to take a breath, man.”

“I just wanna talk to her.”

“Sure doesn’t sound like you ‘just wanna talk’ to me.”

A silence between the brothers, save for the few heaving breaths you heard from outside- the aftermath of Al’s frantic bout with the door. You didn’t see the silent look Al and Max shared, and almost thought Max had refused Al when the door clicked shut. But Max slid the chain and reopened it. Apparently that charm of Al’s, that persuasive allure, extended to his brother as well as you.

Al’s body hung in the threshold for just a moment before he strode into the room towards you. You couldn’t say whether it took a split second or a long while, couldn’t count it in seconds or breaths, not when you were holding yours. He reached out, his hands gripping your upper arms as if to shake some sense into you. But he didn’t. The grip was neither a comforting hold nor a disciplining hand. A little rough, but it was that protective, possessive, even obsessive touch that was undeniably Al. He simply held you still, as if making sure you were real, hadn’t run away and disappeared forever from him. You weren’t at home, but you were still here with him, and his eyes softened a fraction at that realization. 

The rage had been left at the doorstep it seemed, worry now clouding those blue eyes as he looked you over. Worry- as if the emotional hurt he’d inflicted might have created a real scar upon your body. That thought made you shudder; if emotional anguish created real wounds, your skin would be littered in more marks than any physical assault had ever caused. The remembrance of why you’d run- the lies heaped on more lies, the pushing back of imaginary concerns, only for them to push back as real, undeniable truths. Your conversation with Max had doused your anger with guilt, but Al’s presence served only to rekindle that raging emotion again. Whatever fury Al had left at the door had seemingly floated over and been imbued into you. You shrugged out of Al’s grip with a disgusted scoff.

“What the hell was that, Y/N?”

“I just needed some time away from the house. And from you,” you spat.

“You didn’t need to leave. I thought you’d gone…” Al paused, unable to finish that sentence. Was it the thought of you leaving, or him being caught that upset him more?

“I can leave when I like, Al. I’m not your prisoner a-” you barely stopped yourself from adding ‘anymore’ to the end of that phrase. But Al jerked at your words, knowing that you could have. Not like he could have argued against that indisputable fact. He gave a sidelong glance to his brother, and your own eyes tracked that invisible trail. Both of you wondering whether Max had picked up on your verbal faux pas, had deduced where the tail end of your retort might have led. He stood awkwardly near the door, not wanting to interject in your argument, but not making to leave after bearing witness to that fury his brother possessed. A small twitch of his brows; could you see the cogs whirring in his head, trying to unstick themselves, piece together the scene before him? 

“And you,” Al pointed a finger towards Max, the sudden accusatory words and gesture  breaking any concentration that might have had Max coming closer to a reasonable answer. “Why didn’t you call when she got here?”

“I didn’t realize Scout needed a permission slip to visit a friend,” Max snapped, surprising you at the brusqueness of the reply (and seemingly himself, based on the way he stepped back just a fraction, as if he hadn’t meant to sound so argumentative). “She was upset, and I was just trying to cheer her up.”

Without an immediate retort, Al surveyed the small living room, gaze lingering on the coffee table where a couple of beer cans and a half-full ashtray lay strewn atop it. Clearly, where Max hadn’t yet cleared up from the previous night.

“Cheer her up with drinking? Jesus, Max, it’s barely past noon! I suppose I might have to start worrying about drugs too now, huh?”

Nope. That was too far. You didn’t care how pissed off Al was with you, with your actions- even mentioning that old vice of Max’s (one he’d fought hard to overcome), was NOT going to be a valid argument for Al to try and project his own faults and frustrations on. Your own voice could ignite a similar flare of icy wrath as Al’s, and you let him have it. Not even for your own defense, but for him daring to stoop so low as to bring Max’s prior shortcomings into this argument.

“Leave. Him. Alone.” 

Al whipped his head back to you, to the seething, roiling words that you spoke. He could drag you into this argument, like how he’d already dragged you into the madness of this relationship. For your part, you’d allowed yourself to be hauled to that blissful underworld, freely swam to those depths of your own volition- but you would make Max no part of this. You looked at the younger Shaw brother, that earnest worry and innocence helping soften your anger as you asked him to give you and Al the room, for just a little while. He’d nodded, making some excuse to take Samson into the backyard, leaving after a long look at Al. A plea, perhaps. Or maybe a warning. 

There wasn’t enough room in the cramped space for you to be nearly as distant from Al as you wanted. He’d left a gap between your bodies, but still you had to incline your head to look into those eyes. For once, you were struggling to pinpoint the exact emotion in that look, and wondered whether Al, looking down at you, felt the same. Even you didn’t quite know how to feel- still enraged by the lies, remorseful for your abrupt departure, guilty for saddling Max with this. You stayed silent, letting Al dictate the next move. 

“We’re going home.”

“Which home is that, Al? You have two of them.”

Al’s eyes widened, a brow crooked in surprise at the flagrant mention of that second address. Was your defiance really so unexpected? Did he think, after all this, that you’d still be his good girl? That he’d command you to jump, and you’d ask how high in a fraction of a heartbeat? Perhaps Al could sense, through that invisible bond that tethered you both together, that your temerity wouldn’t waver, wouldn’t break down through his attempts at placation. But if placation wouldn’t work, he always had his old tricks up his sleeve. Al eyed a cursory glance towards the door through which Max had left. Satisfied his brother wasn’t around, he leaned in close to you, whispering in an insidious rasp:

“I am taking you home. Right. Now. You can choose whether you go in the front or the back of that van.”

You snorted at Al’s audacity to try and manipulate you- with images that he knew had caused you so much anxiety the last time you’d ridden in the black van. You’d hoped the snort sounded like an incredulous huff of laughter, but a part of you knew your effrontery was masking a small flash of fear that had bolted through you at those threatening words, the purposefully menacing, slow gestures and low rumble of breath as Al spoke them. You’d barely huffed out that dismissive breath before a hand shot out, encircling tightly around your wrist as he spoke once more.

“I don’t remember telling a joke.”

“So that’s it? If I say no, you’re gonna drag me into the back kicking and screaming?”

“Don’t tempt me, dove.” 

You froze as the grip around your wrist tightened. The lilting intonation had returned to Al’s voice, your stupefied body capable of nothing except staring into the cold blue of his eyes, almost manifesting a shadowy pair of devil horns atop his head, a phantom of a wide, false smile ghosting over his gritted teeth. 

It was one thing for the memory of the Grabber to remain lurking in the shadows, but for Al himself to allude to those past actions? He was usually the one veering your own worried thoughts far away from any trace of that beast. The Grabber had lain dormant for months, but you supposed even volcanoes could stay inert for years before erupting. And Al had put you in the van before- would he do it again? You didn’t think so, though his mad glare contradicted that belief, eyes darkening with building rage as his eyes lowered to where he was gripping you-

Al recoiled at the touch between you both, his hand loosening around your wrist, eyeing the livid red mark he’d imprinted on your skin with a look of horror. An incoherent apology was lost in a choke; his voice too broken to speak. Here was a man who had forgotten his own bestial strength, who had been unable to hide the bared fangs and claws when provoked. But his tail was now firmly between his legs at the realization of his mistake. That moment of clarity, the realization of what had briefly surfaced within him, and how it might have hurt you. It had plastered a lost, forlorn look on his face.

One half of you was still livid at the deceit, at Al’s irrational anger. But the other half of you understood the mess of emotions inside this man, who, even now, couldn’t ever define the Grabber as a past life, when he struggled so greatly suppressing that demon inside him.

Wavering between rage and sympathy, a lingering look at Al’s rueful expression gave way to the latter feeling. 

It was time to go. What else could you do, apart from go with him? His home was your home too now. You’d accede to his request, but you were going to make it clear this argument was far from over, waiting for you both at the threshold of your own front door instead of Max’s.

“Al,” you grunted, yanking your arm free from his hold, his empty limb still hovering in the air as if not realizing it was no longer being used to grab you. “I’ll come back. But only because you’re making a scene, and Max doesn’t need to see that. Give me a minute to freshen up.” You didn’t wait for his permittance before turning swiftly and walking towards the bedroom, as if making your way to the attached bathroom within. You didn’t need to use it, but needed a moment to even your breathing and swallow down some of the rage that would have to hold off, for at least a little while.  

You discerned Max re-entering the living room, heard low tones in hushed voices between the two brothers. Their conversation, muffled as it was, sounded tense. You dared the door open a crack, finding yourself in the midst of their discussion. 

“-fine, everything is fine Max.”

“Yeah? Looks sorta broken to me.”

“Oh, cause you know how to fix everything?” Al’s voice, rough and dangerous as a serrated knife’s edge, was still directing his malice towards Max. You thought about interrupting there and then, but held off a little longer.

“I’m just trying to help.” “About twenty five years too late for that, Max. Surprised you didn’t bolt as soon as you smelled the start of a problem.”

You cringed silently at that cutting remark, another barb Al had thrown at his brother. Max was silent only a moment before speaking. Not trying to argue the point, but steering the conversation back towards you.

“Who else is she gonna talk to, Al? She only has you and me. She calls me if she wants to talk about stuff she can’t with you. If she wants to talk about you two, or about her family, it’s natural she’d come here for-”

“Her family? Her and me? When were these calls?”

You’d heard enough. Max didn’t need the wrath of his brother for deigning to take a phone call from you, for daring to listen to your problems. You stomped from the bedroom, both heads turning at your unsubtle exit. On the other side of the door, you’d imagined Al looming over Max, but a proud feeling blossomed in your chest upon seeing Max squared up to his big brother, mustering that courage for your sake. 

“Al, let’s go.” you said flatly, betraying none of your own blistering anger in front of Max- that was for Al to face soon. Max received a small smile from you in offering, and a murmured promise to call him soon, to let him know that everything was ok. A woeful goodbye, but it would have to do for today. You barged past Al and drifted to the front door and out of it without a backwards glance at whether he was following or not. 

Slamming the passenger side door closed after you climbed into the van, Al followed suit to your left a moment later.  If he looked at you, it went unseen; your back ramrod straight and your eyes locked on the windshield directly in front of you. The disregard was met in equal measure, and Al didn’t speak as the engine stuttered to life and he pulled away from the curb.

You’d only been a willing passenger in the black van once before. That journey had been full of soft words and tender reassurances from Al, who had steered your mind away from the images the van had conjured. He didn’t try the same tactic now, but it was no longer needed- the fury surging through your veins, boiling your blood, had evaporated any trace of worry or fear. Each turn the van took lurched your stomach, churning that anger anew. Each time the van braked, the traffic lights reflected in your vision, you saw red, and that fiery fury stayed lit. You wondered who was angrier: your rage could match Al’s when needed, and the tar-black rage pent up inside of you would be home soon, where it could be unleashed, run rampage. Would it meet Al’s own manifestation of the same emotion? Strong as Al was, it wasn’t like he’d physically fight you. These things always seemed to end in a war of words, and you were equally equipped as him on that front. You found a twisted sort of solace in that thought, and it helped tamp down your anger for the rest of the journey. 

No solace was to be found outside of your own head. No assuring hand reached out across the center console this time. No radio either; just the dead silence stewing between you both, only a staticy tangle of thoughts broadcasting in your mind. You wondered whether Al was experiencing the same angry sentiments as you, though you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showcasing that curiosity by looking his way. It felt like another game, one you weren’t about to lose by breaking first. You wouldn’t be the first to lose your nerve, not when he was the one in the wrong. Or at least, more wrong than you. 

Al pulled into the driveway, and your stoicism faltered for just a second when you tried the van’s door handle, only to be met with an empty click. The child lock mechanism had your breath catching, but you suppressed a gasp as you waited mutely for Al to come around and open the door. He didn’t rush this time, not fearful of your claustrophobic panicking that brought forth images of your initial kidnapping. Still, he opened the door wordlessly and you hopped down, averting your gaze as you did so. Once again, you walked in front, opening the front door to the house with your own key, not worrying whether Al had fallen in step behind you. Too determined to keep tight hold of the reins of your anger to sneak a glimpse of the house across the street, lest you douse that anger with a deluge of fear and allow Al’s rage to burn more fiercely than your own.  

“You wanna explain to me just what the hell has been going on?” Al had slammed the door behind him before stalking you through the house to the kitchen. You spun, shoes squeaking on the linoleum as you did, to find Al fixed in the doorway, his arms hanging loose by his sides. A relaxed, casual stance considering the loaded question. It only felt a little like entrapment: the basement door lurking in the corner, the kitchen where those games had started out for Al’s sick pleasure, the only escape route blocked by his broad figure in the doorframe. 

Still, you weren’t afraid of those things, and you weren’t going to explain yourself to Al. He was a snake charmer, finding the words to persuade you, make you think a situation wasn’t his fault. You’d seen the trick, his silver tongue no longer convincing you with its distractions and diversions. Charmed no longer, you would bite back, ready to spew back your own venom at his deceit. 

“Do I wanna explain!?” You resisted the urge to cross your arms in frustration, holding them by your sides in a similar gesture of confidence as Al. “All of this has happened because of you.” 

“I just- I can’t believe you left this fucking house. Y’know how reckless that was? I should-”

“Should what, Al? Should lock me up again? If you remember, you were the one who gave me a key. Or was that just to give me the illusion of freedom? Here,” You fished your door key from your front pocket, hurling it at Al’s chest. He caught it as it bounced off his body. “That’s what you want, right? For me to never leave this house again?”

Al’s fist clenched around the small key in his palm, skin so white the jagged teeth of the key might have drawn blood. He exhaled a frustrated huff, snapping the key down on the sideboard beside him before speaking again.

“Dove…” Al said, leaving the tail end of the sentence to linger. You weren’t sure if it would’ve ended with a plea or a warning, but the use of his cute nickname for you enraged you enough to not care. You wanted to snatch that pet name from mid air and snap its damn neck. 

“Don’t ‘dove’ me! Flattery isn’t going to work this time, Al,” Al’s fingers curled a little as they hung by his sides, made tense by your immunity to his attempts at placation as you continued the tirade. “This is all on you. You lied about that house,” Tighter now, and balled fists appeared at his sides, knuckles white with strain. “I haven’t even had time to think why you lied, but the fact that you did it to my face, for weeks-”

“You wanna talk about lies, Y/N? What about that first night you met Max, huh?”

“Tch!” you scoffed disbelievingly at that. “I lied to protect you. I painted such awful stories about my family so I didn’t have to tell your brother how I actually met you. Or would you rather me have told him about the first time I was in that van, hm?” Your own mocking tone had started to imitate Al’s own inflections of speech. 

“But what you’re talking to him about? One wrong step and you could ruin everything!”

“My god, Al! I didn’t tell him about the fucking Grabber. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Yes- stupid for changing your story.”

“So you’ve berated me for lying to Max, and now you’re doing the same when I’m trying to be honest. You’ve got to pick one, Al- are you upset that I lied, or that I told him some truths?” Al visibly stiffened, his body clamming up at that counter. Because how could he answer such a question, when the whole premise of your argument was built on this twisted logic of contradictory terms? He simply clenched his jaw in silent frustration, his nostrils flaring as he breathed out a heavy sigh. Whether your harsh truths or the tone of your words held Al in suspended silence, you were unsure. But you had his full attention, and you weren’t going to waste it. If he was so concerned with lies, a few home truths would surely be more than welcome.

“Why do you think I talk to Max about things, huh? I can’t keep it all bottled up like you do, or it’s going to suffocate me. Look what not talking did to Max- he was a complete wreck for a long time. And you-” You didn’t need to voice what years of holding in the hurt had done to Al. The flash of sadness in his blue eyes almost had you sympathizing at the mention of that warped evil inside Al, but your indignation was stronger, and you continued.

“You’re not going to take away my voice, or my choices. Not if you want to keep me as yours. Something has to give, Al. Or I might as well be locked in here with that monster. ”

“I don’t want that, little dove. But you need to see-”

“Stop!” Why- why did it always fall on your shoulders to change, to adapt, to see things differently? “I see things just fine, Al. You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. Or who to talk to. Or where to go.” Maybe you should have finished listing off the examples there, but the vitriol was bleeding from you now, and you weren’t about to cover a wound that so badly needed airing. “I don’t have to eat what you put in front of me, kneeling at your feet. I don’t bathe when you allow it. I don’t fuck you when you demand it of me.”

“Stop saying those things, Y/N,” The icy cool voice should have indicated your mentioning of those past transgressions were affecting Al in the worst ways, but you barely registered it, blinded by the red mist encircling your whole being. Every answer Al gave, each excuse, sounded more and more like accusation, as if you were the one who had done something unforgivable. Maybe a part of him knew that once angered, your own awakened wrath wouldn’t back down. Maybe a part of him wanted- needed- the fight. You’d happily oblige.

“You really have some fucking nerve, you know that? Trying to twist any part of this as my fault, or even thinking back there of blaming your brother. When we know, don’t we, who’s really at fault. Who’s got the biggest character flaw out of the three of us- and it isn’t. Even. Close.”

Again, you’d mimicked Al’s way of speaking, punctuating your final rebuttal with a clipped, acerbic reminder of Al’s monstrous form. You marveled, during your scathing tirade, that Al hadn’t approached you. That he hadn’t gripped you like he had at Max’s, rattling you like a child shaking a broken toy in frustration. That’s what you’d been, after all: a thing for him to toy with, to mold and shape as he wished until you’d learned to love being his plaything. But as much as you loved Al, as much as you obeyed his whims (whether during your games or otherwise), you were done playing nice. 

Al had remained motionless, his hulking figure heaving in the doorway. So at odds with his earlier rage, that silent stance both eerie and infuriating in equal measure, when you craved the fight as much as you knew he did. 

“Really- no answer for me? You’re still lying to me and to yourself, Al. Still hiding,” No response. If he wouldn’t rise to the bait, you’d leave with a snappy retort and a dramatic exit on par with Al’s usual theatrics; your anger would simmer for a long while yet, and you could summon that temper again when Al wanted to have it out with you. “In fact, why don’t I go get one of your masks you can hide behind-”

Your attempt to shove past Al was cut short when a swift arm snaked around your stomach. Al moved preternaturally fast for a man of his size. The strength in that arm pulled you towards him, his shoulder length hair brushing your cheek as he spoke in your ear.

“I don’t think so.” No fear, or trace of remorse; no fissure in his voice. Just a flat, guttural rasp whose coldness threatened to send any icy chill skittering through your veins. But your hot-bloodedness kept that frosty fear at bay, and though you squirmed in Al’s superhuman grip, your rage still dared to fight back with your words.

“Let go. I’m not your kidnapped little victim anymore!”

“Oh yeah?” The flat tone had shifted to a maniacal, almost musical lilt. Since getting home, Al’s emotions had been wavering between silent seething, and genuine inner turmoil at the guilt and shock of acting like the beast who had previously inhabited his body. But that was the final straw, it seemed, and your words and actions had finally reignited the rage that had charged like a bull through Max’s door earlier. His arm encircled tighter whilst his other hand gripped a fistful of your hair. In every scenario you pictured your argument taking, you genuinely believed this to be an impossibility, that this hideous savageness within Al had been tamed for good. A speck, just a speck of it, was allowed to awaken during your games. But not for real. Not to hurt you. 

“You’re fucking crazy!”

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that to somehow you knew was as unstable as Al, where the real crazy had- did?- simmer underneath the skin. You might have just given the crazy a little more gas, allowing it to bubble over and escape. A breathy laugh ghosted your ear as Al picked up your frame, the laugh a melodic thing composed of lunacy and rage, telling you something had snapped inside him. Maybe it wasn’t quite Al anymore. Or at least not only Al in the room with you now.

Your rage could match his, but your strength certainly couldn’t. Your flailing arms could only scratch the door frame, unable to latch onto anything as you were dragged backwards all too easily. Realizing where Al was headed hit you like a punch in the jaw, and you writhed desperately as you were heaved towards the basement door. You weren’t above begging, not where those dank depths were concerned, but your sudden onslaught of fear was still braided with deep anger. 

“Please, Al! Stop!” you cried, a threshing foot knocking over a kitchen stool with a heavy clatter.

“Things were good,” he said, a little breathless, but not tired from carrying your weight across the room, “Why can’t you be good?”

Your paltry strength was useless to you, and you had only your words and quick thinking to fend off this attack, to stop this ending down there. Your scalp burned as Al pulled a hand away from you, using it to open the wooden door that led down the stairs to the basement. Scrambling for words, anything to stop this madness, your mind flicked frantically through ideas, like a Rolodex of memories and images, until an idea clicked into place. What Al had just said, the knowledge you had- it might just work. 

“I- am-good!” you struggled with the tight grip around your diaphragm, gripping the doorframe that bisected the two lives you’d lived in this house, above and below. “The basement is only for- Naughty Boys-” your fingers were pried from the frame with your depleted strength, only enough useful breath for a final few words. Better make them count. “Isn’t it- Albert?”

His name- his full Christian name- had Al stopping mid step at the top of the stairwell with you still bundled in his arms. That name, its use so foreign on your tongue, had Al frozen. It wasn’t the surprise of hearing that almost-obsolete version of it, but rather, what is represented. The images must be flashing through Al’s mind, you figured, from the ragged breaths escaping him, his grip loosening a fraction in reaction to the allusions you were gouging into his mind. Because who ever called him Albert aside from his father? His father, whose steps Al was shadowing decades later, dragging someone smaller, weaker down those wooden steps. 

Al sucked in a huge intake of breath, as if coming up for air after being underwater a long time, surfacing from whatever awful memory he was reliving thanks to your reminder. It was cruel, perhaps, but needed at that moment. Halfway between that frozen stupor and consciousness, Al released your body with such a force that you stumbled a few steps before dropping onto the linoleum of the kitchen floor, just a couple feet away from the doorway. Unfortunately, you’d awkwardly clawed backwards in your freefall, catching Al’s shirt in a tight grasp as you plummeted. In his frozen, paralytic state, he tumbled down after you, barely catching himself on an arm, holding himself above you, hanging there like a possessed spirit. His eyes were dull; he hadn’t yet returned fully back, still trapped in his own past, in a mental séance you’d created with your words that had summoned past demons. 

A thin taper of bronze sunset light filtered through the kitchen blinds, slashing across Al’s vision. The stupor subsided, and with a renewed consciousness, he gave you a crushing look. It was the same one he’d shown at Max’s, when he’d realized he’d gripped your arm a little too tightly, had taken it a step too far with an alluding threat of the Grabber. And now, he’d gone even further. He’d never taken it so close to that knife’s edge, not since you’d chosen to stay of your own free will. If Al kept wading into those dangerous waters, you wondered whether eventually the tide might carry him away completely. Away from his sanity. Away from you forever.

Al hovered above you, and you lied below. Silent, save for both of your heaving chests, grazing lightly against the other’s. After an age, he spoke.

“Y/N, I-”

SMACK. Your flat palm cut short an apology you didn’t want from him. Not yet, when you realized your rage hadn’t subsided. Just because Al had suppressed that thing inside of him, didn’t mean you were about to toss aside your own justified anger at things still left unsaid. His head had reeled in shock from the slap, but he turned his face back to you, a small growl escaping through gritted teeth. Your eyes locked to his, though he began to trace a path downwards with his eyes, down the slope of your nose and coming to focus on your mouth, your lips. Your own stare descended too, finding those crooked teeth through thinly-parted lips, a shadowy suggestion of a red handprint on the cheek beside it. 

This was a bad idea, in extremely poor taste even for a depraved pair such as you two. You both knew you shouldn’t, but it was going to happen. You’d argued. You’d seethed and you’d fought. Why not fuck? It seemed as good (or as bad) a suggestion as those other outlets. Your matching tempers still needed a release, so right there, on the chafing linoleum of the kitchen floor, you and Al let loose your rage, a different iteration of sparring between you both. 

You couldn’t have defined it as love making, savage and wild as it was. Those lethal hands- one fisting your hair, the other curled around your neck, squeezed and grabbed as your own hands gripped his shirt in tightly clenched fists. No sweet kisses exchanged between your lips, only possessive bites plied on your neck, your shoulder, your jaw as your nails raked roughly through Al’s ashen locks and bit him right back. You were at each other’s throats in an entirely new way now. 

Impressive, really, how quickly you could undress in your tempestuous states- Al ripped your blouse open, buttons flying as you yanked down your shorts. Then his turn, kneeling upright to pull off his shirt as you worked his belt loose, freeing his cock with a yank on his trousers. He shuffled out of them quickly as you worked free your bra, then a sharp tug had you flat on your back as Al ripped your underwear from your body, almost beastly, as if shredding them to ribbons with claws.  

Even if you hated him at this moment, you didn’t hate this; the usual wetness having built during the carnal undressing and aggressive foreplay. Al dragged your body closer, back burning from the friction of skin on linoleum as he lined up with your hot, aching core. In one vigorous push he was inside of you, barely giving you time to adjust before beginning the assault. Neither of you spoke, no loving words from Al of how perfect you felt around his cock, no sweet hums of pleasure from you letting Al know how wonderful he made you feel. Only low grunts accompanied the sound of your sweat-slicked bodies slapping into each other with every thrust. Your hips would bruise from the pressure of Al’s hands gripping them, but you’d repay the favor; one set of fingernails curled around a bicep, leaving dripping red crescents in their wake, whilst your other hand clawed into his muscular back. Whether wet from sweat or blood, you didn’t care to know.

It was sex through gritted teeth and furious scowls, your matching lust only rivaled by identical dark, raging glowers as you stared daggers at the other, pupils blown in equal parts ecstasy and rage. Until Al pulled out completely, dragging a keening moan from you: it felt almost like a losing move, admitting your disappointment at him leaving you wanting. But he resumed soon enough, only stopping a moment to flip you over, shove a palm between your shoulder blades to push your ass into the air, before grabbing your hips again and taking you from behind. Propped on your elbows, your forearms chafed on the rubbery floor, but from this angle, Al’s cock was connecting with that spot deep inside you, obliterating the pain with the animalistic pleasure. You figured- if you were going to scrap like animals, you might as well fuck like them too.

Pleasure rippled through both of you, the splintering sensation almost as deep and far-reaching as your scorching rage. You stilled, Al leaning over you with his hot breath on your back, only ragged breaths permeating the silent, muggy air. The sweat dripping from you felt like a skin shedding, sloughing off a layer of residual anger that you’d been holding onto. And left underneath? An emptiness inside that you weren’t sure how to refill. You pushed backwards, Al relenting and falling back on his ass as you rose on shaky legs. A lingering, hollow look into those ocean blue eyes before you left wordlessly. Al didn’t follow you this time. 

Al remained on the kitchen floor a while, naked and alone, as Y/N slipped silently away into the house. As good as that release felt, Al was more relieved he had sex to fall back on, a way to temper that anger and placate that beast. Because he nearly fucking did it, didn’t he? He’d nearly put her down there, and it was only his dove’s desperate mind games that had pulled him out of the drowning depths of his own broken psyche. If she hadn’t, and Al had continued that downward spiral, right down the stairwell and into the basement… if he’d have put her in there, locked the door… she would have had no choice, no match against his strength. Which ‘he’ was being referred to was a sore subject as Al pondered it, because it was all him. Yet, somehow not really him at all. Al really thought that other part of himself was dead and buried, yet there he lived, a faint thrum of him under his skin, waiting and watching, always.

If he’d have done it, put her in the basement, he would have let her out once that beast had retreated to a dark corner of his mind. But she wouldn’t trust him again, and would probably be spurred on to leave for real next time. He was already a difficult man to love, and that might just break the fragile foundation on which their relationship stood. Maybe no amount of groveling or apologetic pleading would be enough to fix such a shattered thing as that broken vow. 

His dove had gone, and for once, Al was happy that she wasn’t with him. He would let her be alone for a little while, if that’s what she wanted. He’d deny her nothing, even wishes to be far away from him right now, much as that thought pained him, squeezed his heart as if clasped inside a curled, vengeful fist. Being alone also meant he could direct his rage elsewhere, away from her who deserved none of his rageful spite or hideous violence. 

Al rose, shuffled into his trousers, and stumbled over to a sideboard where a pack of cigarettes and his brass lighter lay. Leaning against the sideboard, Al thought hard as he puffed a plume of smoke into the stuffy kitchen air, darkening in the dusky light. He’d  been so adept at taking away choices- from her, mostly, as she’d so correctly reminded him earlier, when she’d listed just a fraction of his past violations back at him. Well, he would take away a choice from himself this time- the choice to put her back in that basement. He’d eradicate that possibility- forever.

A distant sound of running water (his little thing running a bath, probably), and Al made his decision. Stubbing out the cigarette in an ashtray, Al moved with purpose now, squatting down to root through the cupboard under the sink for what he needed. He stood with a grunt as his knees clicked softly, the heavy hammer grasped firmly in his hand, and knew what he needed to do. He’d destroyed so much in his life, inflicted countless pain and suffering, even to himself. But maybe wreaking this type of destruction would help, for once, to repair something he’d broken.

[coredrill]

perhaps my most insane collection of brvn thots yet

do we think lulu is from the moon. i think this for three reasons. one: when she told superbia she was going to ride him the moon was quite large and prominent in the shot. symbolism. two: when she got her fancy hairdo, she had two little buns that looked like moons. three: “lulu” could come from “luna” the same way it could come from the first syllable of smith’s name. why would she become spanish? don’t worry abt it. also if she’s from there then maybe the “final battle” which obari allegedly said would take place in an unexpected location will indeed be on the moon (pls dont ask for a source on this bc i don’t think i could find it again but it was one of the like. EARLY early interviews iirc. or it was just a rumor. this part of the post is a joke anyways LMAO). however this IS a super robot show so i feel like the moon in general is actually a more expected location for me than like. idk. cleveland

everyone pointing out the animation differences maybe indicating different timelines is so funny to me cause like. if it’s NOT intentional, the fans are putting together a list of fixes to make for the bluray on a silver platter LMAO. also god i hope we get a western bluray release, i honestly am considering getting the jp one if it somehow winds up w eng subs though just cause i know it’s such a long shot for CRUNCHYROLL of all motherfuckers to put one together �� discotek ur our only hope………………

i keep thinking abt the like. pacing of the previous fight scenes being reused in ep9 in such a smart way…………like with smith/lulu v superbia - isami/bravern v cupiridas AND with smith/lulu v knuth - isami/bravern v pessimism/vanitas they kept doing the quick jumps between each of the two fights in a way that made it clear that isami and smith were in conversation even if they were doing completely different shit, and then bringing that completely to the forefront this ep while isami is asking smith why he died and at the same time smith is refusing to die bc of his promise with isami. BLEW MY FUCKIN MIND to see the pattern reused like that, i swear to GOD everyone talks about how fun and hype this show is but it’s so damn GOOD too 😭😭 and then after that the fuckin. symmetrical docking ass cut and then later the gattai which has been held off for SO long bc they are no longer separate conversations. JESUS

called my shots too early tho w smith not melting ppl’s minds in a kaworu manner where they convolute the story x1000 to try to make him seem straight 😭 congrats white boy, your days are numbered until ppl start saying you love isami like he’s your pet dog……….also in a related fashion the giant naked smith fanarts are taking me out LMAO

you can tell idk shit abt fuck when it comes to time travel fuckery cause i rly am just here like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ atp LMAO, the serious theorizing is GONE. i trust the show to finish out in a satisfying manner and also in a way that my pea brain can understand and i’m rly looking forward to savouring these last 3 episodes :] and then rewatching the whole thing from the beginning once the remaining twists have been revealed and i Know :3 like not to get way too sentimental w 3 whole episodes left but we are so lucky to be following this story in real time you guys 😭 like i’m just gonna put the same post i made back after episode ONE here cause it’s true but times a million with what we’ve seen so far, truly this is such a special experience to have and i’m so glad this show waited until i got into mecha to get made so that i could like. Understand it yknow. anyways good for january 14 2024 version of me, you are so excited andyet still have NO idea the kind of treat you are in for 😭

“lewis” jumpscare tho omg. i forgot it took me like a week to figure out what the hell was goin on with all the characters first and last names LMAO. anyways everybody go look at sumiisa sekiha love love tenkyouken right now i am no longer asking

[spotsupstuff]

I wanna learn more about Blessing / Boreas. What’s up with all the bat flies with him? What’s his city like?

-rubs my hands together like a fly- uuuuuu boy, time to shake my blatantly favorite child Hell yeah huhuhuhuhuuu

the batflies enter the scene a good while after the Mass Ascension- they are his coping mechanism after Zephyr collapses and goes dark!

from the comic where they talk about Euros' n Sparrows' relationship, one can probably guess how close these two are. Boreas might be the big scary dog of the whole Eo family that punches things in the face rather than take any miniscule amount of shit, but when it comes to Zephyr he is very open and sweet. she's the only person who can actually influence his opinions and ideas greatly, because he loves and trusts her enough to allow her to do so. so when she collapses, he takes it the worst out of everyone. in a very quiet way. his pain if for him to keep, nobody else can know he's hurting

bear witness to Ňuňu

this lil shit was basically Boreas' therapy dog. just.. very very feckin teeny

child...

she is as smart as your typical bat, but the thing was that when she accidentally made her way into his chamber, he didn't have much will in himself to send the animal to eeby deeby so she got to flutter about. and as animals do, girlie used the empathy trap card to figure out this person who doesn't seem to be posing any danger is Sad. so she landed on his head, crawled up to look into his eyes and chirped

n that was the straw that broke the camel's back and Boreas had his first grief-inflicted breakdown ever. Ňuňu stayed during it and even after it, so emotionally-empty-feeling Boreas decided to take her in. hardly can replace Zephyr, but at least he isn't alone

Ňuňu later brought friends and Bee decided that he will look after them then. even after Ňuňu passes away, he still houses and raises them. the younglings like sleeping on his antennas so he has to watch himself to not move them too much sometimes. Euros has a folder full of photos like that

to his city- the name kush is:

originally from me looking for latin words for Rage. ended up going with Desaevio, because Bee is indeed positioned in a fitting place for the word

and the storm connection plus the last two are the main reasons why the Ancients called the city as such. after project Abet Zephyr ended in such a failure, they had to vent some stuff out. and we are going to claim that it is anger because that isn't as pitiful as shame or embarrassment

(the fact that almost every translator i put it into gives me "i'm sorry" works wonderfully, too. because what else will ultimately Boreas do, but quietly mutter to himself a mantra of apologies when he'll be lying in his chamber 30 seconds from his death, drowning in his regrets and mistakes?)

Desaevio was capable of comfortably supporting over 5 million people (no other Iterator city ever reaches that far- the max is ambitious Gen 3 cities that only ever reached around an estimate of 2.7 million) but at times housed over 6-7 million. despite lying close to the geographical location of Bergen in real life, Desaevio is very far from reaching such nice vibes (the old towns Boreas' structure overshadows come close, though). it is way closer to New York, but more dystopian. if u look up dystopian city on google images u get to see pretty closely what it looked like. combine it with Coruscant from star wars for bonus authencity with the layering

made up of skyscrapers, with endless layered bridges for means of transport (most commonly expres trains), with what little decoration of the buildings chipped away by time without anybody caring enough to restore the beauty- the grey, gloomy expanse of Desaevio is as majestic to witness as it is absolutely harrowing

with it being a layered city and one with Boreas' consciousness/structure, some wonder when does one truly leaves the borders of the city and enters the giant's actual insides. it's hard to tell, with old models of Iterators not being all that enclosed and isolated like Five Pebbles is. there is no karma gate to tell you when exactly the walls turn from homes for people to homes for wires, tubes and alien-like organic life of a colossal Hivemind

despite the whole "Iterators are above the cloud level" thing, i like to imagine that it rains in Desaevio either way. at least- some levels are just straight up Wet like after rain. but it'd be those normal rains like we have, not the annihilating ones that the old towns need to bear with down below. or maybe it's just the upper layers' waste water seeping through the ceilings

most of light of the lower levels comes from streetlights, neon signs and Boreas' own systems once deep enough

cameras and such security systems litter all the streets and every public room- and the private homes are still accessable by overseers- and All of that feeds directly into Boreas' memory cache

this omnipresence is why Boreas later suffers with the fuckin

nobody is as unhappy with Boreas' omnipresence as Boreas himself. no wonder he's always ticked off, imagine being a witness to All of New York's road rage 24/7

[blackbeeno3569]

A bit of their daily life outside of crisis, while the new page is in progress...

THE IMPORTANCE OF PRACTICE Hazel walked through the dark corridors of the Lair’s palace, slowly running through a spell book she was reading those days. Her footsteps echoed softly on the stone floor, as she walked down the stairs to the hall, flipping over another page. Then she froze on a spot in an instant. In the hall there was a giant spider, not shy from the size of a bear, its body shimmering with nightmare sand particles and its many eyes watching her without a single motion. Its fangs clapped sharply and Hazel did the only logical thing that there was to be done. She yelled. “Pitch!!!” “Oh, there you are,” the Boogeyman emerged from behind the creature, not paying her much attention though, organising the black sand around the spider’s legs. The shadowy beast leaned closer to her with a curiosity of an extremely ugly dog, that kind that could drool all over your legs and still look like it could bite off your arm, patiently letting its creator to work.

“Why do we have a giant spider in our hall?” Hazel asked slowly, her voice strained. She took a cautious step back. She never liked spiders and this creature made her skin crawl and heart race even though she knew it’s not really real.

“Spiders demand practice,” Pitch explained without looking at her, reaching down on the spider’s stomach to add some other scary detail probably, “if I don’t make some here or there,” his voice a bit muffled from the cloud of the black sand as he was precising its hairy limbs, “they tend to move their legs in a funny way when I need them...”

Only then he realised the true meaning of her question, letting the sand subside. “You are afraid of spiders?” he looked at her with a hint of disbelief. “It’s of the size of a horse!” she snapped back, Pitch’s tone way too light to her liking. He grinned mischievously and snapped his fingers: “Easy to fix, my dear.” “Don’t you dare-!” The giant spider fell into hundreds of smaller ones, filling the whole floor. The myriad of the crawling creatures stopped only in a disciplined circle around her feet. Hazel yelled again, disintegrating the few first rows back into the sand with a swift wave of her hand, just before she shot their author a livid look. He let them disappear all at once with a single elegant move of his wrist, leaning down to her with an academic tone and his grin even wider, amused glint playing in his eyes: “It’s part of the basic set of human natural fears, to be afraid of spiders, you see. Necessary for human survival in the wild outdoors. A heritage of the ancestors we might say. Absolutely needed imagery for my nightmares and fearlings.”

Her glare could curdle milk but it didn’t seem to have much of an effect on Pitch. “Very useful lecture,” she snarled and took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart, “I hope you had fun.” “Oh, it’s always a pleasure to present you with a bit of useful information,” he nodded with a seriousness betrayed only by his eyes and he leaned down to kiss her forehead, “also you should get some benefit of living with the Boogeyman sometimes.” Hazel’s lips twitched in a smile. There was something endearing about both his dedication to his craft and his playfulness. “The almost heart attack waiting for me in the hall is a benefit?” “You could simply just enjoy a nice spider,” he countered, “it was a rather good one I think.”

“I won’t enjoy any spider, thank you very much, not in a hundred years.” “Did you see the way they ran?” “I did, my love. Unfortunately I did. Very convincing.”

“It’s not easy to do, you know.” “I can imagine.”

They walked out of the hall together, the fear slowly being forgotten.

There were indeed certain benefits of living with the Boogeyman. Not exactly in encountering the nightmare creatures in the halls of one’s home necessarily, but there were some. At least Hazel thought so.

[valiantwarriorsquadroncomic]

MISSION 8

The HCA private meeting room was dead silent as Fritz prepared to come clean with his love and acceptance that Joseph’s heart belonged to another. Even as he was surrounded by beautiful Propseran wildlife on the covert Prosperan base, it did nothing to curtail his nervousness. He was dressed to the nines in his HCA military uniform. He paced the well furnished wooden floors, his boots thumping with each step as his heart mirrored its frenzied pace. The thump was met with a cacophony of jingles from his slew of new medals. “Please lord, grant me strength to be forthright.” He plead as he came to stop. He felt his PDA ring, the caller I.D. reading DER CHANCELLOR, prompting him to pick it up. “Yes, father?” he asked with a trembling voice.

“Are you meeting him as you planned?”

“Jawhol, he should be arriving any minute.”

“Don’t be nervous, you should be happy you’re putting this entire thing to rest.” Fritz’s breathing calmed. “We are on the eve of a tragic, devastating war.” The young monster man could hear footsteps. “Relationship nonsense and pining serves no purpose on the battlefield.” The door creaked open. “You’ll find someone right for you, do me proud.” Chancellor Kramer hung up as Fritz’s bat-like ears shot upwards like an alerted dog, quickly turning to face the visitor. There, joseph was gently closing the door. He too was dressed in a fancy uniform and stitched hat. His own medals were pinned to the left jacket pocket. “Thank goodness, I was starting to get a bit perplexed that you wouldn’t find the room.” Fritz said with a relieved sigh.

“Nah dude.” Said joseph. “Everyone in the base was pretty excited to help me.” Fritz brushed himself off.

“Ahem, first of all, I would like to congratulate you on your promotion from private to 2nd lieutenant!”

“Thanks.” Said Joseph. The scarred man noticed a small model kit next to a bouquet of beautiful black roses. “Is that a fucking BIO-MENACE ALICE kit?!” he said with wide eyes. “You can’t get that model anymore without paying out the ass!” Fritz nodded as he cleared his throat.

“Indeed.” Squeaked Fritz, his face becoming sweaty and throat dry. “I was going to surprise you with it when I was going to confess my love to you.” Joseph’s wonder turned to quiet neutrality. “However, I am aware that your heart belongs to another.” Joseph rubbed is chin.

“I had a feeling you had a crush on me.”

“Pray tell, Was I that transparent?”

“Your face turned like, blood red when you told me about the Propseran president a while ago.” Joseph concluded. “Not sure how you found out, but yeah.” Once he started to smile, Fritz relaxed his posture. “Logan and I have been making sure to keep our relationship on the down-low.”

“I understand,it is very a dangerous thing when a man who loves another man like a woman to be transparent about himself.” Fritz answered. “I am very much in the same boat as you, my dearest friend.” Fritz’s eyes went from orange to pale yellow. “He’s a fantastic man.” Fritz pulled out a protected piece of paper, with several drawing scrawled on it. The sketches consisted a stylized cartoon deer, something that would’ve appeared on the screen of a high budget animated children’s film. The sleek, 4 legged black deer had two scars running from the eyebrow down to the side of the face. “I’m astounded by your lover’s draftsmanship, I paid him 200 USD for this page, it was worth every single cent.” The tension of the room lessened as Joseph was elated to hear fritz sing of his boyfriend’s praises. “He even got angry look you give people right.” Joseph tensed back up.

“What look?” Joseph said, suddenly defensive. He face contorted in a wide eyed scowl, and Fritz looked down to the cartoon deer making the same expression, and almost broke out into a chuckle. The giant bat-like man regained his composure, and offered the gifts to Joseph. “I still hope that we can be friends.” Joseph looked down at the rare kit and the roses, only to notice a small note inserted within the box. He gently placed the roses to the side and pulled out the piece of paper.

“That was supposed to be for Logan.” Stated Fritz, nervously wringing his hands. Joseph slowly opened the paper to a beautifully written note written in flowery cursive. “GIVE HIM THE LIGHT AND JOY I COULD NEVER PROVIDE.” Read the words carefully written on the paper.

“Of course we’re still pals.” Answered Joseph. “It took a lot of guts to admit this to me face to face.” Fritz began to tear up and enveloped Joseph in a passionate hug, his friend reciprocating the gesture. Though Fritz’s heart was broken, it was broken in a way that could be easily mended. Fritz felt his PDA vibrate, and quickly checked it while trying to keep the device in his pocket. His eyes widened at a small alarm icon in the top of its screen. “Pardon me, I must attend to something.” The young bat-like man took off like a rocket, dashing into an unknown location. He only stopped when he ran into an unfamiliar monster woman. She grabbed him in an accidental hug, pressing him against her large, and plump stomach.

“Whoa, DUDE!” she yelled in a French accent, gently putting him back down. “If you ran any faster, I might’ve sent ya flying!” she laughed giving her stomach a loud slap. Fritz blushed at her tight khaki combat armor that wrapped around muscles.it hugged her large bust and even larger belly, which pressed gently against her belt. “I’m lookin’ for a guy called Joseph, did you see him?” Fritz shook out of his love-sickness and gestured his friend to leave the room. “Great!” she said, extending her hand to his. He began to gently reach out, only for her to vigorously shake his. “You can call me Faye, or CELTFOX! She exclaimed. Fritz waved his friend good-bye as he sped off to attend the emergency he was called to.

“God damn you, Schmidt.” He whispered in his mind. “It’s the ONLY reason father could be contacting me at this time.” Faye watched Fritz vanish into a crowd of people. “I’ll meet up with you later!” he called out. Faye tilted her head, her chubby cheeks also growing flush. She forgotten the last time anyone looked at her romantically.

“Anyway, I was told you’re gonna escort me to a network problem you guys have been having.” She said, looming over Joseph. He noticed the Khaki uniform.

“You’re from QM?” he inquired.

“Yep!” she said,putting her hands on her hips. “I’m E-12’s military IT specialist!” Her prideful stance turned into confusion as Joseph didn’t seem to react to her. “Not sure if anyone told you, but I’m gonna be working alongside you and your pals for bit, so ya better get used seeing my ugly mug!” Joseph’s scars flared and pulsated as he began to since a familiar presence. Faye jumped back with a grimace at Joseph’s condition. He locked eyes with none other than Captain Ackerman, being tailed by dozens of ERASURE UNIT soldiers with Laleh in tow. She was now donning a set of new, futuristic looking armor that seemed to allow her to keep up the pace with the rest of the human soldiers.

“Good, Nathan’s little lackeys that ain’t in the HCA are all here.” He said in a gruff voice. The captain turned to faye. “I understand you commies have no sense of punctuality or duty, but here, you obey the DAMN RULES and STAY when I tell you to.” Joseph’s brow furrowed until Faye rubbed her hand behind her head, looking sheepish.

“Aw, geeze!” she said apologetically. “Sorry about that, just excited to help out finding our guy!” She grabbed Joseph by the hand and trotted him towards the group with a big, warm smile on her face.

“Let it go, captain.” Said Ackerman’s 2nd in command. “She’s just some ditz, she didn’t mean anything.” He pointed towards an elevator in the middle of the hallway. “We gotta escort this guy to a debriefing room, then we’ll take her to fix our internet thing.” Joseph jumped back when he saw the man in question. He was wrapped in bloodied combat armor and a hooded shirt. His face was wrapped in a cloth, with only a single eye exposed. What made Joseph terrified were the three tentacles that snaked behind him, flashbacks of him and his comrades near fatal combat with N.1685 were fresh in his mind.

“I understand your concern at my appearance.” Said the hooded man. “That run in with that vile man must have had some lasting impact on you.” Joseph’s guard lessened as Ackerman’s frustration grew. “You may call me Samson.”

“No more fucking around, we have shit to do.” Ackerman ordered. The large crowd of people piled into the elevator. Faye had some trouble squeezing herself through the malfunctioning door.

“Please, allow me.” Said Samson as his tendrils unfurled and gently pressed against Faye’s exposed back and shoulders. After some more squeezing and struggling, Faye joined the rest of the party. The elevator rang out with a garbled buzzing noise as it rose to its destination. Laleh and Joseph sat in the back of the room with Faye and Samson as the ERASURE UNIT soldiers hung in the front, tightly gripping their assault rifles. Ackerman would occasionally glance back at Joseph and Laleh, and the verbal berating he got from after their last run in. Laleh would tend to another wound on Samson’s arm.

“That’s looks pretty serious.” Said joseph. “Are you sure it’s not infected?”

“Not to worry, I have made sure he and the rest received proper antibiotics and treatment.” Answered Laleh gently as she used a small pair of medical scissors to cut through the thick adhesive wrapping.

“Yeah, I saw those wounded POWS as I tried to find your buddy, like just about every available medic was trying to patch them back up.” Piped up Faye, moving closer to the two and unknowingly pressing her large stomach into Joseph. “Whoops.” She said, backing off slightly. “Didn’t mean to squish you.” She gave a sad look before becoming alarmed at Joseph’s concern before trying to brush off her suddenly unhappy demeanor. “Even after years of rehab, I’m trying to get used to my body again.”

“Alas, I know that feeling all too well.” Said Samson as he seemed to struggle to close his fingers. He looked up to Ackerman, whose back was turned to the rest of the outcast super soldiers. “Am I allowed to inform them of what happened?”

“You can tell ‘em how you got captured and how you freed yourself, and nothing else.” He replied. Faye’s demeanor sharpened into a subtle, piercing glare.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to tell them that America’s secret little army almost shot one of those poor survivors while violating the coalition’s own intervention restrictions.” She scowled internally. Her demeanor softened as one of the Erasure unit soldiers looked back at her. “I can’t yell you how many shirts, pants and belts I accidentally destroyed after I got experimented and rescued from one of the ALA’s camps!” she guffawed as she flexed her muscles.

“I was doing missionary work in eastern Prospera, we were aiding isolated communities and were given the blessing of Prospera’s Catholic Church to ease the suffering of the poor.” Said Samson. “We were suddenly attacked by a group of ALA mercenaries units, and 30 of us were rounded up and sent to one of their camps.” He gripped his right arm, and mustered the courage to continue. Faye gazed with sincere empathy at the man, her goofy expression becoming sorrowful. “With the war in Prospera lost, we were used to see if they could mass produce a new strain of mass produced abominations, the NEMERTEAN abominations.” Samson lessened his grip. “The experiment was mostly a failure.” Samson sighed. “Those with a fatal reaction to the injections and treatment were tossed into a pit to die, and the rest of us were used as slave labor.” He began to shake, recounting the suffering. “We were surrounded by armed guards and cameras in the middle of nowhere.”

“How awful.” Said laleh. “How on earth did you escape?” Samson grabbed a crucifix necklace around his neck.

“There was a priest from separate missionary that was basically ordered to “manage and monitor” our condition.” Samson turned the crucifix to himself, observing the crucified Jesus sculpted into the cross. “He observed our transformations, spared only because the manager of the ALA experimentation camp was also a practicing Christian.” The crucifix wound and unwound, the white skull painted on the symbol flashed underneath the buzzing ceiling lights. “The priest would sneak food and medicine to us, even cutting his own rations to feed the younger prisoners.” He stopped spinning the crucifix and once again struggled to form a fist once more. “An ALA spy found out that he was going to warn us of an upcoming extermination plot against us.” Joseph looked down at his own iron cross medal in sadness. “I…was the one to hear his last words and testament…he begged me to tell the others, to fight back, to be as Moses as he freed god’s chosen from the Pharaoh.”

“Wrap it up, you’re almost out your location.” Spat Ackerman. Laleh and joseph shot him an ugly angry look, prompting them to panic and turn his back on them, trying to downplay his terror.

“I rushed back to our barracks and told them we needed to fight or die.” “While not on the level of the other abominations, we were able to at least make a break away from the camp.” “10 of us are with Christ now, the rest are in critical condition.” The elevator buzzed again as the door opened. Before a detachment of ERASURE UNIT soldiers marched him down a run down, rusty room, he thanked Laleh. “We are very blessed to have a doctor like you aid us and hear of our woes.”

“We are getting more medical staff to assist your comrades, I assure you.” She replied in a gentle tone. “We’ve just been spread so thin from recent casualties.” Joseph’s heart sank to hear how victims of war were in need of aid but unable to get it.

“It isn’t your fault, my sister.” He said before being removed from the elevator and marched down a different hallway. “You can still pray for our recovery and keep us in your thoughts, that’s all I ask.” Joseph and the rest of the crowd were marched into the hallway that red “SERVER ROOM, AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY” the ERASURE UNIT soldiers unlocked the door, prompting Ackerman to point Joseph and Laleh to proceed before Faye. The large pink haired monster woman squeezed again into a door that was too small for her and brought her laptop and tools in front a a large, black monolith in the dead center of the room. Her ditzy demeanor betrayed her knowledge as she easily popped open a panel and began tinkering with its wiring. As she went to plug in her laptop, Ackerman’s co captain blew a loud whistle, frighting her.

“What did I do wrong this TIME?!” she barked.

“Ma’am, your laptop needs to be scanned for any malware, viruses, spyware, and anything that could harm the system.” She relented and let him jam a usb port into her laptop. 15 seconds later, a window popped up with a black screen, lines and lines of indecipherable coding blazed in an instant. The window was replaced with a giant green checkmark before vanishing. “Alright, go ahead and work your magic.” Faye plugged her laptop and finished her work. Despite her outburst, her mood lightened as fixed the various problems within the system. She hummed to herself, and even gently swayed her hips rhythmically to her own beat. The black monolith was now blinking with a blue and green light. Without a word, the ERASURE UNIT marched the trio out to an HCA BRIEFING ROOM. Nathan was already there, with Fritz and Veronica talking to themselves in hushed, panicked whispers in German. Joseph and Laleh sat next to their captain while Faye strolled next to Veronica. She looked down at the chair pensively before slowly sitting down. The chair creaked under her large weight before settling. She breathed a sigh of relief as she sat up and twiddled with her pda. Fritz paid no attention to her as he continued conversing with his sister. Nathan spoke up brought down a large TV screen.

“I’m glad everyone is here, I got some bad news.” Everyone paid attention, even the two Gaertner siblings took notice, their faces pale and gaunt. “Schmidt has escaped the Villa.”

“Holy shit.” Said Joseph. “Right before we were supposed to attack.” Nathan flicked to footage of a Victorian style mansion in the midst of a jungle. The two Gaertner sibling’s heart dropped as footage showed the flag being flown next to the mansion. It wasn’t the usual ALA swastika, but a near perfect recreation of Nazi Germany’s flag as it billowed on the breeze amidst the chaos of CNGS and QM units fighting to apprehend Schmidt. Suddenly, a giant mechanized suit of armor burst from the villa, its enormous jets propelled it into the atmosphere as it was followed by several large black jets.

“Apparently, we weren’t the only one developing heavy mechanized bipedal weapons.” He said, switching the TV another slide. “Faye, did you agree to the TOS when you arrived here?” She looked up and nodded.

“You can force me to shut my mouth, but you sure as hell can’t make me happy with it.” She thought indignantly.

There was no further elaboration between the two before Nathan began. “As I promised I’d tell you, Joseph, WNM6 is a secret white supremacist organization that is in charge of managing the ALA and ALA high command.” The room went quiet, the two Gaertner siblings nervously eying each other. “They’re the shattered remnants of Nazi German military and government stooges that fled justice in 1945. He clicked one a black and white photo of of a white man in a business suit. “This guy’s name is FREDERICK MUELLER, he was a rich industrialist who basically threw money and property at Hitler’s secret research and development project, and funded WNM6’s escape.” Faye did her best to keep quiet. “They have popped up throughout history, attempting to gain power and wealth for their white supremacist agenda.” Fritz and Veronica looked away in shame. “They’ve fled and consolidated wealth and power in South America, South Africa, Canada, Australia, the United States, New Zealand and even Japan as well as being active in Europe.” Nathan’s tone became more grave with the mention of Japan, a bead of sweat trickled down his brow. He clicked to a black and white photo of an SS officer with a shaved head and a blind eye with a scientist who held a clipboard while dressed in a stitched up surgical guard and some form of mask. “We believe this guy is Peter Hoffman, the Nazi military officer who organized the escape. Joseph clenched his fist in anger.“One hundred years ago, the abomination program was birthed in Nazi laboratories and their eugenics experiments, they fled Germany with the blueprints, and now the lunatics are using modern science to actually make their crackpot dreams a reality.” The room was so quiet, a pin drop could be heard.

“So these Nazi FREAKS have been just… running around in the shadows, ruining lives and killing innocent people for just about a 100 god damn years.” he spat out bitterly. Faye looked to the side and rubbed the back of her head sadly, as if she wanted to say so much more about the shocking revelations.

"Unfortunately" Sighed Nathan, "you're 100 percent right". He wiped the sweat off his face. "They've funded and controlled dozens of Neo Nazi terrorist groups and secret societies since the mid 20th century, and not even intelligence can pinpoint their exact bodycount.

“The pricks just don’t know when to lay down and die.” Said veronica with a scowl. “Like a bunch of roaches.” Nathan clicked to a photo of two abominations in light and dark brown camo. The two were almost posing with the bodies of dead, mutilated CNGS-USA soldiers. The poltergeist abomination held a spray can, appearing to have recently vandalized the CNGS symbol with SS bolts and the abbreviations “WS”. Laleh gasped as she covered her mouth in horror, unable to even speak. Her large, catlike eyes bulged out of her skull at the carnage

“Now their South African branch, the WHITE SOVEREIGNS are gaining more influence in WNM6, pushing to be on the offensive and raiding CNGS bases for chemicals and biological materials.” He clicked again to show two abominations holding 3 mangled corpses of CNGS soldiers “These unhinged raids are due to them pushing for more production of ABOMINATION soldiers as a last ditch effort to pursue their agenda.”

“Clearly because they’re also slowly becoming destitute an unable to produce or purchase their materials within their organization.” Stated Fritz. “The white sovereigns are considered the maddest of the mad, the most vile, and most violent of the ALA factions.” He looked at Nathan. “If they’re in charge…will this culminate in them taking even more deadly, drastic measures for their hopeless, aryan pipe dream?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Answered his captain. “These WNM6 bastards are about 8 years away from going bankrupt they way they’re losing money, but there’s a lot of damage they could do over 8 years.” Everyone stared again at the white sovereign operatives. “There’s rumors about plenty of fights and debate within WNM6 over the white sovereigns over who gets to call the shots.” He clicked a button on a remote. “What makes them a pain in the ass is that between their bloodlust, they actually give a shit about taking action.”

“So, they were the guys that ordered the target to evacuate.” Joseph deduced.

“Exactly, they demanded the ALA in Prospera rescue Schmidt and take him to god knows else, and the reason you all will be leaving this island immediately.” With another click, he showed a giant, Grey submarine. “We got the audio sent from a QM spy that’s infiltrated the submarine that WNM6 owns and uses to covertly communicate about crap they want to keep quiet about.” Everyone quietly observed the words “WEHRWOLF-V10” painted near the tail. “We believe these are only ONE of WNM6’s submarines where they shelter their leaders and other important, high ranking officers.” Faye shifted in her seat, typing something in her PDA as Nathan played audio of an older, European man in a grave tone;

“So we are in accord of our next plan of action.” Joseph sat in silence, processing the dire situation. “ARACHNEA has been slaughtered, APOTHECARY has sold us out, and we have lost Prospera proper.” Faye put down her PDA and listened intently.” “Inform all units to either flee the country or flee into the red zones and black zones.” The final sentenced sounded garbled and warped. “We shall NOT lose SCHMIDT, and we shall NOT lose VELEDOVIA.” The audio cut off with a screeching noise.

“I guess that’s one thing the coalition and WNM6 can agree on, not wanting to lose another piece of property to exploit.” Faye thought as she gazed towards Joseph and Laleh.

“I guess WNM6 must be loaded to afford this shit.” Remarked Joseph.

“The bastards have sympathizers with deep pockets in the arms and banking industry.” Nathan said. “That’s all I can say for right now, but I gotta wrap this up.” He pressed another button on the remote. “West and East Veledovia are two eastern European countries that have suffered from a big problem.” Nathan said as he clicked a remote on the screen. A country straddling Germany and the Czech repulbic appeared, bisected by a green line. The Western side yellow, while the eastern side blue. The southern part of both countries were covered in a strip of red. As nathan clicked a again, red arrows began pointing upwards from the south, and the red color began to spread upwards. “In 2035, a far right ethno-nationalist part called the True Veledovian Nationalists overthrew the West Veledovian government and started a war against its eastern neighbor.”

“Not gonna tell them those fascists capitalized on an anti immigration law put in place by the coalition back when it was called the Global Security Union, huh.” Faye pondered internally once more. “God, you poor people don’t even have a clue that the CNGS was going to invade AVN occupied territory through East Veledovia to expand its consolation prize.”

“The starvation war, if I am not mistaken, Kapitan.” Spoke fritz.

“Exactly.” Nathan answered. “It made the 3rd Prosperan Civil War look like a damn picnic.” He flitted to images of destroyed cities, and civilians digging through rubble. “More civvies died than soldiers” Fritz once again shifted in his seat. “After TVN lost, they fled to the southern VSERIOAS mountain range to regroup, and renamed themselves the ARYAN VELEDOVIAN NATIONALISTS.” He clicked to an image of soldiers in rugged mountain territory. “The bastards have fortified the landscape with anti aircraft,long range missiles, and god only knows what else.”

“That mountain range was already considered a death trap before the war.” Fritz said. “I imagine our counter-operations won’t be easy to accomplish, the other Europa’s Fury factions must be flooding the south with soldiers and weapons.”

“It’s worse than that.” Answered Nathan, clicking the mouse again. Everyone’s eyes widened as the image loaded. Meanwhile, within the Prosperan Capital, The Prosperan president, Juan Hidalgo was having his own dire meeting. Alongside his cabinet was Mrs.Q and several other QM representatives.

“With the help of our newly joined independent allies from Scandinavia and Central Asia, you can see that we can start construction with 3 weeks after insuring the flow of American ALA operatives has been curtailed.” Said the head of civil construction and public services. Presidente Juan smiled and nodded.

“You’re the expert, so you have my blessings to move forward.” He said with a hearty chuckle. “I don’t know the first damn thing about construction outside of the fire pit I made last week!” several cabinet members broken into lighthearted laughter at their president’s response. Mrs Q. Stood up to speak;

“In my personal opinion however, it is not your responsibility to deal with this problem.” She clicked on her laptop, producing an online article of a white man in a baseball cap, a blue shirt and black jeans holding a piece of wood like a guitar and jokingly strumming it. “HUSBAND AND FATHER OF 2 VANISHED FROM SEATTLE, WAS A VOLUNTEER FOR AMERICAN NEO NAZI TERRORIST GROUP ALA. FOUND DEAD IN PROSPERA.” She cleared her throat. “The United States has done little to curtail its own problem of Neo Nazi radicalization, and we need to bring that up in our next meeting.”

“Excellent point, Senora.” Replied Juan, swiftly trying to change the subject as the other cabinet members were annoyed with the presence of the socialist woman. “The other order of business, is to improve our welfare system.” He said, his smile lessening, almost wavering into a frown. He brought up a slide from the EL DIA BUENO, the biggest news outlet in Prospera. The most recent article had been uploaded, displaying a man pointing at a street corner while concerned citizens tried to break him out of a trance. The article was titled “DESPERATION WAR SURVIVOR, NOW RESTAURATEUR, STUMBLES UPON THE PLACE WHERE HE ALMOST DIED AFTER BEING CAUGHT UP IN GUSTAVIST AMBUSH. GOES CATATONIC AND UNRESPONSIVE FOR 3 MINUTES.” Presidente Juan cleared his throat. “We’ve done well to clean up after the desperation war, but the scars are still here, and our job isn’t done yet.” He wiped the sweat off his face. “Our citizens were dying, now they’re just struggling.” He peered at Mrs.Q who smiled and gave a slight nod. He nodded back and brought up a large paper folder, clearing his throat. “The first order of business is to funnel more tax money into welfa-” Before he could continue, several armed HCA agents burst into the room. Several Prosperan politicians shot up from their seat in violent anger. One of the agents pointed at Juan and Mrs.q.

“You two are needed to discuss an emergency regarding the Independent league.” Said a tall HCA agent.

“This is an OUTRAGE!” yelled the vice president. “You can’t barge in here and barking orders!” Juan held up his hand.

“It’s alright,senora.” He gave another disarming smile to the intruders. “I leave you to discuss my welfare reform, this is an emergency that clearly needs our attention.” He nodded to the rest of his cabinet with a disarming smile as he and the QM ambassador were led away from the meeting. “This nonsense almost makes me wish I was back managing some backwoods town as the mayor.” He monologued bitterly. The two walked across a connecting hallway with several large laser censors littering the area. Gustavo glanced at censors with a defeated look. “Feels like they’re almost scared that I’ll flee my cage.” The HCA’s heraldry, and its eagle hung over the sentry points and were sprayed on the walls. Everywhere they looked, a constant reminder of WHO funded the fixing of their building. The HCA symbol that Juan and Mrs.Q passed appeared to have glowing red eyes, two small video cameras clicked as they followed the two’s every move. Mrs.Q rubbed her temples over the abrupt, borderline abduction.

“You were a good choice to lead this country.” Said the HCA agent in a deep voice. “You have a disarming…visage…so to speak.

“Oh…thank you!” “I’m flattered!” Answered Gustavo. “I’m very well aware people don’t treat me like a threat because I’m fat, thanks.” He thought as his fake smile almost broke. He decided to not mouth off as he was intimidated by his large, muscular, super human presence and his horned helmet.

“I know how you felt.” Said Mrs. Q. “Being jutted around like some puppet for the whims of others.”

“Hope your bosses don’t scream at you ending the meeting early, senora.” The two made their way to a decontamination chamber where the two were sprayed down with a clear fluid. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes.

“I’ve let them know multiple times that independent jurisdiction doesn’t operate on QM’s time…even though we’re probably more trustworthy allies to them. She responded as she saw the HCA guard soldiers stand motionless, their faces covered by masks. “I’m lucky that my superiors are in good spirits.” Said Mrs.Q. “After our forces captured several of Gustavo’s personal lackeys, the leader of the United Prospera Worker’s Party has agreed to be absorbed into QM, with all 500 operatives, including 375 soldiers. Juan’s eyes widened.

“Dios mio.” He whispered. She smiled.

“Catherine went to visit him and his enclave in the Golden Mountains in East Prospera.” The Decontamination room was bathed in a green light and prepared to open. “The leader, Rudolfo throw her arms around her in sheer joy, and praised her and QM for having captured the man who allowed Gustavo to terrorize neurodivergent propserans.” The two exited the room. “He didn’t even care that Gustavo would be subjected to the prison-industrial complex, his little brother was avenged and he now sees us as heroes.”

“I could imagine.” Said Juan. “I heard the entire reason he joined that communist guerrilla group was that the state failed to stop Gustavo’s secret police from rounding up autistic citizens.” The prosperan president sighed sadly. “Just about anyone would resort to violence if their family were killed by the state for being different.” Juan observed the refurbished base, filled with HCA soldiers, the walls painted with their flag just about everywhere visible. To him, it felt like he was being reminded of who foot the bill for the renovations, and to remind him that he was under their influence. Mrs.Q and Juan arrived at HCA platoon sent to fetch them.

“Other leftist groups have agreed to be absorbed after our recent and spectacular successes.” She rubbed her temples with her hands, fighting off a burgeoning headache. I’m not looking forward to my next meeting discussing more resistance from other Marxist groups who aren’t too eager to join our cause.” She sighed. “Then I have to act as mediator for the Veledovian Socialist union as rework the terms of our alliance as we prep a counter attack against the ALA in their OWN country.”

The two were escorted to an HCA aircraft that was also shaped like a bat. Its occupants were large, monstrous, and muscular like their escort. One of the monstrous soldiers with a chubby body welcomed the two with open arms, and bowed. She dismissed the agents as the two boarded.

“Don’t let them get to you.” Said the large woman. “They treat me like shit for being big, too.” Back at the independent base, the file finally loaded after several screens and clearances. Everyone but Faye gasped as they saw the image of a giant stealth bomber at a mountain base covered in ALA flags and iconography. The bomber was heavily damaged, its wing nearly stripped of its armor.

“This new bomber created by the AVN had been wreaking havoc on Coalition held territory and Independent bases.” Nathan explained. “As well as QM held territory at the borderlands. Faye nodded as he continued. “That thing got struck with HCA fighter aircraft, CNGS missiles, and QM jets and it wouldn’t fucking go down.” The VWS’s captain began to lose any sort of joviality as he continued. “We lost a a bunch of good people trying stop this thing.”

“Such a shameful and warped mentality.” Said Laleh sadly, glancing at the bomber. “WNM6 has access to so much groundbreaking science and technology, bordering on miraculous.” She looked down and shook her head. “They could’ve used their advancements to help the world, and they only want to use it to save themselves and enact violence and atrocities to people wouldn’t survive their twisted white supremacist standards.”

“How much longer do we got while it’s grounded for repairs?” asked Veronica, her hands trembling.

“If QM spies are correct, we have about two weeks, and those Nazi pricks are reinforcing the area fast.” Nathan clicked on the same mountain base, anti aircraft guns and missiles were being installed, many of them had the flag of Nazi Germany and German writing slathered on each vehicle. The Gaertner siblings were at their lowest as they read off the graffiti, from proclamations of “HEIL THE NEW FUHRER, DEATH TO TOLERANCE, and a slew of racial slurs that were at least hastily blurred out. Several Neo Prussian commanders were performing a nazi salute as their soldiers marched to a transportation helicopter, all wearing an HCA medal. "The worst news is that they've got even MORE of these superweapons in south veledovia." Fritz clenched both of his fists. "I guess that's why they were able to hold onto their occupied areas so easi-"

"That explains PRECISELY how they're able to occupy their territory with such little manpower.” "Fritz said with a heavy heart, banging his fist on the table. Faye noted Fritz's knowledge on the AVN's soldiers, and the tears in his eyes. “They know DAMN WELL what they’re doing, embracing a horrific sin from the vaterland’s past.” Veronica quietly laid her hand over his.

“It’s not YOUR sole responsibility to exterminate these freaks, it’s not your cross to bear alone.”

“You saw those medals, too, didn’t you?” Said Fritz. Veronica’s expression dimmed, knowing exactly what he was talking about. Unbeknownst to their CNGS counterparts, several Neo Prussia commanders were HCA nobility or HCA soldiers were shown in the series of images. Joseph chose not to pry into the clearly painful matter that war harming them both. Veronica stiffened, and flexed with a clenched fist.

“You gotta get it together, it’s OUR duty to cut down the followers of that fascist madman that brought ruin to the vaterland and started a devastating, tragic war.”

“You are correct, dearest sister.” Fritz answered. “I apologize for my behavior captain, please continue.”

“No problem, we’re almost done.” Nathan said as he clicked to one last photo to a mountain base bordering on Independent Germany and CNGS Poland, and right above Independent Czech Republic. “We’ll be transferred to CNGS autonomous region MOUNT UNITY were we’ll regroup with our allies and formulate a plan of attack.” He clicked a button a remote, allowing the TV to ascend back into the ceiling. “Our only saving grace is that QM’s spy network are actively sabotaging repairs, so prepare for an evacuation off base.” Nathan properly shut down the room and accompanied everyone to the RISENFLEDERMAUS. “Then we’ll prepare the raid in West Veledovia using its subway tunnels, and make a break for QM held territory to escape. Joseph attempted to speak up, the glut of European politics thrown around caused him to feel insignificant.

“Feels like I barely even knew about Prospera for all the time we were in it.” Joseph said as the gang got closer to the airfield.

“Technically, it’s no longer our problem now that Propsera’s independent and the ALA here fucked themselves over trying to keep it.” He waved down the HCA staff members of their departure as they finished refueling and cleaning the giant bat-like jet. “We were part of a counter-insurgency operation, and it’s got nothing on what we’re about to face.” The VWS-1 and Faye stood quiet for a moment. “This is flatout war.” A chill ran up everyone’s spine upon Nathan’s words. A single week later, Joseph and the other would be relocated to MOUNT UNITY. Meanwhile AVN occupied Veledovia, RM II and RM III were loading several white, American soldiers dressed in completely black camo and vests into a large military helicopter. Several CNGS-USA bureaucrats were among the POWS who were being funneled into a helicopter as other mercenaries held them at gunpoint. RM III was distracted by the rings and jewelry stolen off the soldiers and the corpses of their fallen comrades.

“Pretty sad that those VWS-1 tools aren’t here to save you.” He taunted as he observed the wedding ring he stole off the bureaucrat. “They’re probably stuck on that mountain the coalition annexed from Poland.”

“The CNGS did NOT annex that territory!” the bureaucrat snapped back. “Under Property jurisdiction A-p37, the CNGS went under the proper paperwork and procedures in order to acquire it in LEGAL manner!”

“Oh, please.” Scoffed RM III. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole “autonomous region” projects are just a stepping stone for the coalition to absorb all countries into their sphere of influence.” He tossed the captain’s ring in the air before grabbing it. “The whole “we’re not trying to created a homogenized, international empire” act is getting harder to believe.” His eyes flitted between the soldiers and the bureaucrat. “Heh…looks like you were only evacuating the AMERICAN coalition personnel when the AVN began its offensive.” RM II observed one of the men he captured.

“Not surprised an ODS operative was with you Black saber stooges.” RM II ripped the wire and microphone away away from the operatives shirt. “Usually when they conduct operations, they usually have a “field adviser” deployed with them to ensure they’re conducting the mission right and keep them on target.” The operative said nothing as he glared at the mercenary and his skull shaped helmet. Back in the day, we used to call ‘em “Moron wranglers.”

“I ain’t giving you lick of intel, you dirty traitor.” Growled the ODS operative. RM II affixed his bayonet to his carbine and jammed inches away from the operatives face.

“I assure you, I’ll wring every bit of info from you.” The operative began to sweat and recoil in fear. “Then I’ll send what’s left of you back to Washington DC to the director and the rest of your incompetent agents.” The operative was dragged off by the mercenaries when RM III got impatient.

“We’re leaving now, right?” asked the brash young man.

“Not a chance.” RM III answered. Uulastiv city is flooded with heavy arms courtesy of these clowns, and they’re ripe for the taking and reselling on the black market.”

“Hey grandpa, you’re going senile.” Said RM III. “The AVN is gonna shell that shithole to the ground soon with artillery, I don’t feel like getting reduced to a red smear on some homeless man’s shack.” RM II walked up to his young counterpart and slapped him across the face.

“You’ve got some NERVE questioning me and my intel, you little parasite.” Sneered RM II. “The AVN doesn’t give a damn about that rat’s nest, and there’s still plenty of CNGS weapons and ammunition those BLACK SABER morons left for the resistance.” RM III rubbed his face, however instead of relenting, he appeared simply tired. RM II’s face turned bright red behind his skull-like mask. “That’s what I despise about young people nowadays, you don’t know what LOYALTY or DISCIPLINE is.” He kicked over a brief case he raided from two relief workers he abducted, then pointed at the distant city. “We’re GOING to UULASTIV, god so help IF I have to ASK AGAIN, I’LL-” No sooner did RM II try to finish his sentence that artillery fire screamed across the sky and blew apart the city. RM II gazed quietly as thunderous booms and flames engulfed their would be destination. RM III had a blank, unimpressed look on his face. RM II threw RM III into the ground. “Get your ass to the helicopter.” He said, his rage now restrained. RM III threatened the rest of the POWS with his carbine bayonet. Soon, the helicopter took off as the thundering sounds grew closer as the AVN continued its violent offense. Towards the polish-veledovian border a familiar sign was jammed into the ground. “THIS AREA IS A CNGS AUTONOMOUS PROPERTY, TRESPASSING WILL BE MET WITH SWIFT AND DIRE REPERCUSSIONS.” The mountain was heavily patrolled with CNGS and independent germany personnel, and independent Germany aircraft would occasionally circle the base before returning to duty. Joseph stood in an empty, ancient WW2 era pillbox re-purposed for storing old boxes and plastic bags. He observed the last untouched part of the mountain. A small, ramshackle playground occupied the small clearing. The red, WW1 style fighter plane squeaked as the breeze caused it to vibrate. Its once vibrant, candy apple red now replaced with rust and discoloration from the elements. Laleh stood beside him, the small glints of sunlight reflecting off her new, futuristic armor.

“It’s nice to see you again!” she said cheerfully, scooping up joseph in a warm hug.

“Same to you, sorry if I don’t seemed more hyped.” Said joseph. “It’s kinda hard to be enthusiastic from all the bullshit happening.”

“I know.” Replied Laleh, letting her friend back down. “However, I’ve been allowed to divulge some Intel on my background as a means of establishing trust within the CNGS hierarchy.”

“Sounds like Andrew is throwing me a bone to shut me up.” Joseph said in a snide tone. “All the time I’ve known you, and I don’t really know WHAT you, fritz, veronica, and the other giant soldiers were until the ALA called you guys abominations.”

“You may call us Post-Humans.”

“Right, sorry, post-humans.” Said Joseph, rubbing the back of his head in an apologetic tone. “I know you can’t tell me everything, just whatever you can.”

“From what I am allowed to tell you, I, fritz, and veronica, were all created from the Coalition’s reverse engineering of the abomination soldier program.” Laleh said. “I’ve been so very happy to no longer keep you in the dark about something, even if it is this morbid.” She drummed her gloved hand as she peered further into the distance, where Fritz and Veronica were assisting in setting up a makeshift graveyard near the dilapidated playground.

“I appreciate that.” Said Joseph. “Was it true that you guys came from nazi Germany’s experiments?”

Laleh nodded sadly. “After the abomination program blueprints were transferred from west Germany to the rest of the GSU, they were left to rot in a safe until being reopened in 2010.” She peered nervously at her own PDA. “I was created from in vitro fertilization, and I nearly died from being stillborn.”

“Jesus, I had no idea.” He replied as he joined her side by side to observe the solemn funeral.

“My mother, Professor Mahdavi, was the only one who had hope that I would pull through, and adopted me as her daughter.” In the distance, she observed fritz and veronica aiding the digging of graves, alongside the man with the star of David eye patch, Herschel Wagner and their uncle Johan Fischer. “In a way, the abominations and Homo Centonibus are cut from the same cloth, we’re both Post-Humans birthed from monstrous research committed by eugenicists, but we don’t have to be reduced to weapons or fight each other.” She sighed and became listless.

“Speaking of monsters, that meeting we had yesterday was pretty intense.” Joseph said as he began to fumble with with a pen in his pocket. “That bastard N.1685 is still alive and terrorizing people…it hit me luck a damn truck.”

“I certainly felt the animosity in that room.” Laleh agreed. “Nathan’s been taking it hard, I KNOW he’s blaming himself for N.1685’s escape.” The two uncomfortably recalled being in the MOUNT UNITY strategy room, surrounded by CNGS bureaucrats and military leaders as footage of N.1685’s rampages blared on the giant telecom screen. Images Fritz and veronica’s faces overcome with despair upon seeing the twin abominations ROMULUS and REMUS carve SS bolts into the face of a CSTF pow flashed through Joseph’s mind. Nathan and Macmillian being shut down when trying to elaborate that they had simply no way N.1685 was capable of subterfuge or higher thought. “In that terrible room, it felt like the ghosts of everyone’s failures came back to haunt us.” She twiddled her thumbs as she remembered in the next 8 days, they and their allies would be raiding the mountain base to destroy the stealth bomber. “So much is being dumped on us, and it feels like everyone’s drowning.”

“Now we have to help fight a war, and we don’t know a DAMN thing about how IF they’re even helping civilians evacuate.” His scars pulsated. “I wish there was something I could do outside of fighting the enemy.” Said joseph in a frustrated tone. “I don’t regret killing those nazi pricks, but what about the people they’ve hurt?” his fist clenched in anger as Laleh observed sadly until she had an idea.

“I am aiding several abomination POWS, and I may need help with carrying and applying bandages.” Joseph calmed himself as he heard those words.

“Wouldn’t someone get pissed that someone who’s not a doctor is wrist deep in someone’s wound?”

“As long as you are not diagnosing or applying without supervision of a medical professional,” Said Laleh, trying to be more positive, “you’ll be able to assist with at least some of their problems!” Joseph smiled. “It’ll be wonderful to do something together again, I’ve been so busy with everything going on!”

“Only if it’s okay with you.” Joseph answered as the two made their way out of the door. Laleh peered down at her pda a she received a message. “THE FLOCK OF QUEENS NEEDS ATTENDING AFTER YOUR CURRENT ASSIGNMENT.” As Laleh led Joseph to help provide medical aid, Fritz and veronica were gently lowering hastily built wooden coffins into shallow graves. Herschel dug into the earth , assisting in the final grave, and wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Herr Wagner, you didn’t need to come all the way out there to perform manual labor!” Veronica said, her cheery disposition concerning the POWS who were well enough to attend the ramshackle funeral.

“Nonsense, bubbeleh”. He continued. “You two have been busting your keisters gaining the prestige to turn the HCA around!” He carefully climbed out of the grave. “It’s the least we can do to help you out.” Samson quietly placed the decorated coffin of the priest into the hole. The POWS well enough to attend surrounded the coffin to lay flowers and kind hearted notes. He aided one POW, a short, thin 61 year old man with a single arm hobble to the grave. His six eyes and insect like mandibles quivered in sadness as he laid a beautiful purple iris flower on the priest’s coffin. He wiped tears from his eyes as another POW woman, a large abomination like laleh, assisted him back to his seat. Samson took a moment to absorb the somber sight. An HCA priest read out a eulogy as an HCA imam said a prayer for the dead as he visited each freshly filled grave. He saw one of his fellow missionaries, a devout baptist, wept as he was he consoled by an HCA rabbi. Despite not being indicative on his own Christian values, he wouldn’t be ungrateful towards Veronica and Fritz’s aid.

“I thank you for your assistance.” Said Samson as his tentacles grabbed another coffin.

“Think nothing of it.” Said Fritz. “Those with the courage to open their heart to god will not have their plead for aid go unanswered.” Their uncle took a long, hard look at the two rusted spring rides.

“It’s hard to believe I was sitting on that bench watching you two play.” Said Johann. “Now here you two are, sacrificing the last bit of property you had here to give the dead their peace.

“We had to fight like hell to even suggest burying these poor souls.” Veronica said. “Those old farts fight us at every turn, even wanting the stupid flag changed to no longer carry the German empire’s flag has been an uphill battle.” She flailed her arms in the air. “The HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE’S BATTLE STANDARD IS RIGHT HERE!” “WE’RE NOT DISRESPECTING HISTORY, WE CAN RESPECT OUR ANCESTORS WITHOUT WAVING AROUND AN IMAGE WITH A SHITTON OF BAGGAGE ATTACHED TO IT!”

“I also assure you.” Said fritz to Samson. “When we aid in returning mount unity to polish control once more, the bodies of your comrades shall remain here as within a memorial to the victims of the ALA.”

“I have not seen this sort of collaboration with three separate faiths.” Noted Samson.

“You’d be surprised at how similar the three Abrahamic faiths can be.” He wiped his brow as the HCA personnel guard arrived. It was comprised of men from man different countries and ethnicities. “Our country may not push the same unity as the coalition.” Proclaimed fritz “however, a kingdom is nothing without its citizens, and we respect other’s differences.” Samson gently laid the priest’s body into the hole.

“The nightmare I and my people have faced have tried heavily on my faith, I must confess.” The muscular tentacles slowly unraveled themselves from the coffin, which was decorated in the flowers and written notes by the escaped abomination pows. “The neo nazi who all sentenced us to be experimented on and left to fend for ourselves in that ramshackle POWS camp was a Christian and constantly accompanied by a personal priest.” All three of the large, monstrous people covered the grave with freshly dug soil.

“You should all return to your barracks, you all are still in dire need of rest and medical attention.” Said Fritz as the priest gave final last rites to the graves.” “The HCA shall handle the rest.” Samson nodded as he met with the rest of the rescues.

“Let us retire, my flock.” He said in a stalwart tone. “It has been a taxing and arduous day for everyone present, and we must say a prayer for our brothers and sisters who are still in dire condition.” The abominations were escorted by HCA personnel as Johann hobbled to his nephew and niece.

“Your mother was the tie breaker to have these poor souls laid to rest at your territory, and your father had paid for the necessary fines and fees for construction and burial.” He smiled as he put his hand on fritz’s shoulder. “Though they may be preoccupied with their own lives and that backward court, they still watch over you and aid you when they can.”

“They could still do more, though.” Piped on veronica.

“Ooh, all that time in the presence those coalition operatives and that Marxist woman are having a bad effect on your faith in our cause!” He answered in a graver tone. “The bible says HONOR thy mother and father!”

“Uncle, I would literally die for mother and father.” She said in a deadpan inflection. “I’m just saying I hope they plan to do more for our new political party in the future outside of joining it and playing paper-pusher.”

“I promise that we will triumph in destroying that monstrous bomber and strike against the Neo Prussian monsters.” Fritz asserted. “No matter how painful it is to see German citizens embrace a horrid time of our long and rich history, the HCA shall persevere against them! Faye, who was silently fixing the system’s security, noticed the group talking. She despised any and all monarchists, but fritz and veronica’s attempt to make their organization less terrible struck a chord. Fritz’s ear twitched and spun around to meet her gaze. “FAYE!” he yelled out to her. “We’re leaving and going to have a nice dinner, you’re cordially invited!” Faye looked back to the building she left, and back to Fritz. She checked her pda, noting that her schedule was clear for the rest of the day, and her comrades not responding her for any social outings within QM’s population centers. She felt a twinge of sadness, but when her eyes met fritz, she felt less upset.

“Sure!” she gleefully said. “Beats locking myself in my barracks all day like some loser and not talking to anyone!” Fritz and the rest of the HCA became shocked or concerned.

“Oh dear, are you alright?” asked Fritz sincerely, walking up to her and rubbing her hand.” “No one should ever feel alone or rejected, we’re all here for you, I promise.” Faye began to blush, unsure whether to gently rib fritz for his inability to pick up on her sardonic tone, or happy that she was receiving positive physical attention.

“Relax dude, I’m fine.” She assured him, gingerly slipping her hand from his. They all made their way to a specialized dining area, Faye walking next to Fritz the entire time, striking up a conversation on the French revolution.

“Think of it as initiation, as our 6th team member!” Veronica said cheerily smacking her on the back.

Over the coming days, the VWS-1 and Faye would be subject to an intense bootcamp as well as being informed the of the strategy regarding the destruction of the stealth bomber. Before the operation, the VWS-1 would go on a short recon mission near their entry point. Joseph observed the cloudy, and ominous skies of Southern Veledovia. As he held his carbine, he gently brushed the tall, native grasses as the were windswept by pre-rain breezes. He observed that even VWSSOC was called into accompany him and the rest of his comrades. As AKROPOLIS swept the area with her manned drones, Logan was perched atop her shoulder, sweeping the area with his own carbine. His lover was in similar armor and combat vestments comparable to the ones he was forced into at the time of his rescue, the exception this time is that they bore the same colors and camo pattern his his VWS-1. AKROPOLIS, HECATE, and even Faye were all put into armor that mimicked Laleh’s.

“Bit too quiet out here.” Joseph said inside his now modified helmet, the louder howls being filtered out.

“Enjoy it while it lasts.” Said Nathan in his own new helmet, “When we enter the old Davodich subway tunnels, the fighting will be loud enough to wake the dead.” He clicked the side of his helmet. “This is Nathan, nothing out of the ordinary here.” He observed veronica picking up a rabbit carcass and dangling it from its foot, prodding it and letting it swing before tossing it aside. “Yep, business as usual.” He reiterated. Fritz bounded back near his comrades, once again slowing his top 75 mph speed to avoid collisions or slides.

“I have some grave information to report, kaptain.”

“How serious is it?”

“There is just…so much blood.”

“Joseph, Logan, take point and follow fritz.” Faye bounded to meet them, looking back at Nathan. He nodded, prompting her to continue.

The two psychics followed their friend to a grisly sight. A CNGS convoy had been ambushed and its soldiers were slain. Their limbs were strewn across the pine trees, hung upside down from its branches with chains, or impaled on rotting, aged fence posts. The Nazi German swastika was carved into the faces of the corpses, and spray painted on the destroyed tanks and armored vehicles. The one anomaly of the entire nightmarish spectacle was a single letter pinned to the corpse of one of the soldiers.

“I don’t sense any traps or danger, but nothing about this seems right.” Declared joseph. ARKOPOLIS took point and took out a small demolition robot, and carefully drove it to the body lying flat on its face. Veronica immediately spun around behind her and began sweeping the area in a panic.

“I KNOW YOU SKULL FACED BASTARDS ARE OUT THERE!” she shouted. “YOU WON’T GET THE DROP ON US AGAIN!” The small robot cut open the letter as Veronica lowered her machine gun.

“They’re not here…yet.” Said Joseph as he gave his approval to AKROPOLIS that the letter was safe. AKROPOLIS was bewildered that the letter was written entirely in 03, but handwritten and in cursive. The scarred young man noticed its flowery calligraphy despite the grisly site it was taken from. Fritz approached the letter.

“It says “I assure you, on my paladin’s honor, that none of these weaklings corpses have been trapped and my note is not an IED or coated in some contagion.” Fritz said. He fought the urge to vomit as whoever wrote the letter was an HCA defector, and most likely took the same calligraphy class as he did. “I, as well as my own cohorts, Romulus and Remus, admit to full responsibility to wiping out this cadre of soldiers who died in the name of the Cowards for global insecurity.” Joseph and Logan took cover behind the destroyed, burned out shells of the Armored Personnel Carriers, still trying to determine if any danger or belligerents were present. “Should any HCA loyalists find this letter, your attempts at pluralism and tolerance within that putrid court are futile. Veronica seemed to waiver, her grip on her machine gun weakening. “You reformists might as well be communists, for all the vitriol and venom you throw at them.” Faye could sense Fritz becoming more and more emotionally compromised as the went on. “To get to the point, the monster that wrote this letter essentially praised Schmidt for masterminding the bombing of Berlin and praises Adolf Hitler, and signed his name as “WHITE PALADIN.” Veronica walked up to him, noting one last thing.

“These freaks even have a little motto, “EMBRACE THE VATERLAND’S CONQUERER PAST.” Veronica hissed. Charlotte crouched down at the other writing and graffiti the other EUROPA’s fury members left.

“This shall not dissuade me from my path.” Announced Fritz. “We shall TRIUMPH over these fascists, and we SHALL steer the HCA court to a better, brighter Germany.” Faye tilted her head as begin to have newfound respect for the two siblings. Fritz’s hands trembled so badly he almost dropped the letter. The medical specialist of VWSSOC, EQUINOX reported to his superior, Sgt Nguyen.

“Sergeant, I’m identifying Ukrainian, Russian, French, Danish, Hungarian, and several other eastern European languages.” She stood up straight from investigating an ALA soldier that appeared to be some sort of android. “Intel was correct, and it looks like WNM6 truly is going to flood the Veledovias with EUROPA’s fury soldiers.”

“Recover the bodies, and burn any files they had on them.” Sgt Nguyen said.

“How tragic.” Said Laleh. “This recon assignment has been reduced to a recovery mission.”

“No kidding.” Said Joseph, accepting the grim horrors that would await them. “This war is going to a bigger nightmare than anyone expects.” The two VWS squadrons begin to clean up and destroy documents. AKROPOLIS tried to put on a brave face despite the atrocity.

“You guys have nothing to worry about!” she said, flexing her enormous biceps. “Those fascist fools are up against the best damn special forces team in the world!” Veronica gave a vigorous, if not somewhat half-hearted nod. After packing up what could be salvaged, the VWS loaded the bodies into several VTOL mini Harris aircraft. In the distance, Joseph saw destroyed buildings and a giant grain silo with the ALA’s swastika painted on it. He could sense a presence approaching him.

“An old, Jewish Veledovian neighborhood was recently destroyed by the AVN. Joseph turned to meet EQUINOX. “I can’t imagine the devastation that poor people must feel. The two stood side by side, observing the desolate landscape. “In 1939, Nazi Germany invaded and occupied that neighborhood, and 100 years later, their estranged children destroyed it.” The wind itself seemed to howl in anguish. “No matter who wins in this war,” said EQUINOX as Joseph absorbed the desolate sight. “It’s the civilians, the ones who never asked for this, who will suffer the most.” The two stood side by side with each other. “And this war is only a microcosm of a global conflict with WNM6, so many have suffered and will continue to suffer as long as they exist.” The wind picked up, causing the fields of native grasses to dip and weave from the gust. The sun peeked out momentarily from the large, dark clouds only to be hidden once more. Despite its brief appearance, there was sliver of respite that both men appreciated.

“You know a lot more than I do about them.” Said Joseph. “How the hell do you not…go crazy after the terrible shit they’ve done?”

“I focus on who and what I can save.” Answered EQUINOX. “It’s all anyone can do…and it’s something I can help you with.” Joseph stood frozen for a minute. “We are in always in short supply of medics and emergency medical technicians, and while the CNGS would never remove us from combat, I could set you on a path that can aid victims.”

“Good point.” Joseph replied. “Maybe I can do something besides killing these monsters.” The two reunited with their respective teams and VTOL aircraft. Nathan and veronica tried to brush off the horror to return to their boastful selves, however, the actions and words seemed hollow. ARKOPOLIS tried once again to be boastful in the face of the atrocities, prompting Charlotte to snap at her, to take the coming war seriously. She grew sad as Logan seemed to stare out the window, gripping a small coin written in Afrikaner dutch. He refused to take his eyes off it, gripping it tightly. Laleh continually checked her PDA as Joseph talked with EQUINOX. The words “THE QUEENS SHOULD BE READY FOR DEPLOYMENT SOON” were delivered to her in a coded message. Faye and Fritz simply sat together in silence. Within one weeks’ time, they would head for QM held territory to infiltrate West Veledovia’s subway tunnels. Sgt.Nguyen had a back and forth with several CNGS special forces commanders over even more dire news.

“Everyone.” Said the cyborg woman calmly. “Several AVN battalions had made advances into East Veledovia, and there’s a battalion marching its way in the direct path the stealth bomber, we MUST start the raid early.

TO BE CONTINUED IN MISSION 9

[spook-study]

Can Nic Cage “Nic Cage” without being able to Nic Cage?

Hot on the heels of the return of the ‘killer robot’ movie, Willy’s Wonderland (2021) seized the moment in not one, not two, but three ways. First, they capitalized on the cult status return of their lead actor, second, they created a camp movie in the middle of horror’s current obsession with bleakness, and third, they did all this when "Five Night’s at Freddy’s" (FNAF) was truly reaching its zeitgeist.

Many people went out of their way to see this movie simply because Nicolas Cage starred. After reintroducing himself with a bang in Panos Cosmatos’ remarkably feverish Mandy (2018), he had reminded us that he was indeed a powerhouse performer, all without losing that manic intensity he became known for. So when Willy’s Wonderland came out, a movie about Nicolas Cage beating a bunch of possessed robots to death, suffice to say everyone went in expecting exactly that. But, to rephrase the first question: can Nicolas Cage perform in the style that he’s known for without (spoilers) having any lines?

As evidenced by the movie, we can confirm the Nic Cage Experience™ doesn't need to be accompanied by lines. He does just fine without.

The Janitor, the only name given to his character, manages to both walk his way through his insane night like it’s just another Tuesday, and go totally crazy when the situation calls for it. This balance makes for a captivating and enjoyable performance from Cage, both allowing him to play to his audience and play for the movie. There's a lot of realism in his performance, which for this movie seems almost antithetical. And yet, what is a good horror movie without the actors really living it? The Janitor was told to clean house, and clean house he did; going crazy is just part of the job.

The Janitor being left to his own devices, the plot and body fodder are provided by a competent group of young actors in classic horror movie roles. The sexually active girl and her boyfriend, the boy in love, the best buddies, the final girl. Peripheral adults flank the plot, but just because they’re grown and have struck a deal with the eponymous Willy, who is now possessing the body of a giant animatronic weasel, doesn’t mean they’re safe. These obvious tropes are played up not only by the actors, but by the script itself. Each word from final girl Liv is #inspirational, delivered with the melodrama of a daytime soap. The exaggerated performances and heightened reality of the script make this movie a total blast.

The downside of this is that there are many moments that feel redundant. They split up, kids have sex in the creepiest place, the lost puppy love interest is self sacrificing and over dramatic in his unrequited love, Liv pursues her ideals beyond the realm of reason. Despite knowing full well what has gone on, and is still going on in the arcade, each of the teens makes the stupidest decisions after entering the building. You'd think they'd be focused on getting out, or just not getting killed, but even that seems to be expecting too much of them. There's horror movie stupid, but the young characters in Willy's Wonderland are on a whole other stratosphere of idiotic.

The performances are passable for the most part, though there's barely any screen time spared for character development. Six teens, two sheriffs, one mechanic, and the latest owner of Willy's are all as flat as cardboard. The primary opposite of Cage, actress Emily Tosta's dogged nobility and bleeding heart final girl that she and director Kevin Lewis created rides the edge of a bad performance. While The Janitor has no lines, Liv picks up the slack; not always to great effect. Maybe five "hope speeches" is one or two too many, not only for the film but for Miss Tosta as well. There are only so many ways one can say "we have to do this!" Just ask Sarah Michelle Gellar.

It seems Willy’s Wonderland was founded on the back of its star. Rather than a movie in its own right, it mostly feels like a vehicle for Nic Cage. The plot feels built up around the idea of Cage's Janitor killing possessed animatronics rather than the thrust of the movie. There's precious little story to be had. This is where Willy’s falls flat. When watching a horror movie, you might eagerly anticipate the next kill, but everything else should be working in tandem to create a fully enjoyable experience from beginning to end. There’s being on the edge of your seat for the next robo-brawl, and looking at your watch waiting for it to come. It's unfortunate that the viewing experience contained much of the latter.

At 88 minutes long with eight animatronics to kill and a few dead teens (and adults) along the way, it’s amazing how Willy's managed to have dull moments at all. Averaging out, that's one kill, robot or otherwise, every six minutes or so, not including flashbacks. Yet, the thin plot and difficult-to-match performance of Cage left the screentime spent on the other cast feeling flat and boring. The other actors pushed for the melodrama, which was a smart choice when trying to share a movie with Cage, but the tone was off in comparison to The Janitor's.

On top of that difficulty, the tension was severely diminished by the large cast of animatronics, which forced the action sequences back to back. Make no mistake, the thrill and fun of Willy's lies in those sequences. But as a movie, this ultra-fast pacing did no favors to the other characters that were charged with attempting to build out a plot when the premise of Willy's amounts to "and then he kills the robots." Don’t expect the dread and fear that is foundational to FNAF, there is little time for anticipation. What could have been a hair-raising movie full of dark corners and jump scares ends up being an exciting romp with little fright to be found, despite its best efforts. There was just too little to build on and too much to do.

Even with these shortcomings, Willy’s Wonderland feels like it did exactly what it set out to do. The movie is fun and violent. Did it do anything wild and amazing? Not really. Will it be your favorite horror movie? A hard maybe. Will you put it on in the background of your Halloween party? Probably!

Without a doubt, the movie made good on its promises of silliness and Nic Cage doing what he does best. It’s a casual watch that one might enjoy seeing alongside their good friend Mary Jane, or with a couple of beers in their system. While not the first to cash in on the evil animatronic craze, check out The Banana Splits Movie (2019) for another round of beloved childhood characters gone wrong, Willy’s Wonderland certainly earned its keep.

It’s exciting to see the return of the killer robot and how it’s being interpreted in the modern day. From Metropolis (1927) to Gog (1951) to The Terminator (1984), and now Willy’s Wonderland, the deadly robot will always hold a special place in the horror canon. Whether possessed by the souls of serial killers or an AI turned rogue, humanity prevailing over machine will be a story told from here to kingdom come. The triumph of the will is twofold. There’s is the triumph of humanity over technology, a story that ensures and reinforces the idea that the best and most powerful form of life is organic, and there’s the success over a being that is supposedly, and in most cases is canonically, smarter than you.

With the way of the world as it is, and the all too dangerous territory the entertainment industry is headed into, it’s no wonder movies like Willy’s pop to mind. Perhaps there is nothing more satisfying right now than seeing The Janitor, a man just trying to do his job, literally demolish the machines that would take his life. The advent of the AI movie is certainly nothing new, though it is distinctly having a moment. While in most instances the solution to the AI problem is a bit more cerebral, there’s no outwitting to be done here. There are no guns or programmers involved in this mess. No one to hack into a system or rewire a relay. This is a killer robot movie for the Everyman. The Janitor hacks, smashes, kicks, punches, and rips these things to pieces. Who would have thought tearing a robot apart with your bare hands would be a relatable fantasy only two years after the movie’s release?

It’s a good enough looking movie, the design sometimes outpacing the execution, and there’s clearly a bunch of love put into it. Anyone who’s ever had a nightmare after visiting Chuck-E-Cheese’s will certainly feel vindicated. The colors move well between the 70s retro look of the Willy’s Wonderland arcade fun zone design and the more neon and vibrant tones used to signify the modern day, the contrast making it visually interesting. The job taking place overnight, the darkness is certainly used to cover some of the movie's visual blunders, and the shaky camera fight sequences can cover a multitude of shortcomings. Still, clever camera work aside, Willy's was obviously filmed on a low budget. Some of the effects will undoubtedly leave you wanting and probably wishing there were fewer evil animatronics. It wouldn’t have hurt the movie to cut out one or two, if only to increase the amount of time and care that could have been spent on the others.

The animatronic cast of characters are all strong, design-wise, and feel just adjacent enough to reality. No one would use a weasel as a children’s restaurant-arcade. Kids get called ‘weasel’ on the playground before they get pushed down. The other characters also feel not-quite-right in the same way. An alligator, a chameleon, an ostrich, a turtle, a gorilla, and the completely off-themed knight and siren. There’s little time to get to know each one of them, which in theory one could do seeing as each is possessed by the soul of a killer. There definitely could have been a bit more about the dead inhabitants, but with so many of them there simply wasn’t time. Is it enough to say they were all horrible child killers? Yes. Could there have been more said? Also yes. Does it really matter when Nic Cage is going buck wild on eight killer robots? That’s up to you to decide.

While it certainly won’t be the best entry in this niche, this movie has absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. It's a silly, straight-forward movie with few frills and plenty of robo-killing action. Whether or not it's your birthday, Willy's Wonderland (2021) wants you to have fun! And you absolutely will.

3/5*

[broomballkraken]

Title: Two Sides of the Same Coin

Fandom: Octopath Traveler, Octopath Traveler 2

Pairing: Osvald/Partitio, Cyrus/H'aanit

Word count: 5244

Warnings: None

Fic Summary: Osvald is invited to an academic conference in the far off land of Orsterra. He brings Partitio along and they decide to make the trip into a much needed vacation.

When they arrive in Atlasdam, they become acquainted with a few locals, Cyrus and H’aanit, and when the two couples get to know more about each other, they realize quite quickly that they’re two sides of the same coin…

“Hoo-ey! Just look at this place!”

Osvald chuckled when Partitio spun around, taking in the many sights and sounds of the city of Atlasdam. When Osvald had received an invitation to attend an academic conference in the far-off land of Orsterra, he had been a bit hesitant to embark on such a long journey. However, the opportunity to collaborate with scholars from an entirely different continent was much too inciting to pass up, and since it was so far away, he decided to invite Partitio to come along with him to make it a vacation of sorts.

“It is indeed impressive,” Osvald said, adjusting his glasses as he took a look around himself. “It reminds me a bit of Montwise, being a hub for scholars and other seekers of knowledge.”

Partitio flicked up the brim of his hat and shifted the weight of the travel bag on his back. “I reckon yer gonna have the time of yer life at this conference, darlin’, surrounded by so many like-minded folks.”

“I agree, but first I should find a courier to send this letter to Elena-”

Partitio groaned and blew a raspberry. “C’mon, Osvald, you’ve already sent her, like, ten of ‘em, and we haven’t been gone that long! I’m shocked that ya haven’t run out of things to say.”

“Nonsense.” Osvald snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “We are in an entirely new continent, my dear. I must document every single new discovery, and Elena will benefit from learning all that she can-”

“Okay, okay! I get it.” Partitio snickered as he slipped his arm behind Osvald’s back and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek. “Yer so cute when ya go into papa bear mode, sweetheart.”

Osvald huffed and turned his head away, but the way that his cheeks flushed a bright pink as he took Partitio’s hand told the latter that he liked the teasing.

“Anywho, we should probably ask around and see how to get to that Royal Academy, and find an inn…” Partitio started, but he trailed off when a giant cat suddenly appeared before him, letting out a meow before sitting back on its haunches.

“Uh, what in tarnation…?” Partitio’s jaw hung open, and Osvald raised an eyebrow as he rubbed at his chin. “I reckon I’ve never seen a cat this big before!”

Osvald hummed and tugged on his beard. “That’s…some manner of snowcat, I believe. I am not sure what it’s doing in the middle of the city, though, and one that is lacking in snow at that.”

A huge grin slowly crossed Partitio’s face; whatever it was called, it was pretty dang cute! He laughed as the huge cat suddenly leapt up and placed its paws on his shoulders before giving his cheek a good lick. “Hey there, big kitty! Ya sure are a pretty one. We’ve got a big ol’ doggie back home that would love to play with ya!”

“Absolutely not,” was Osvald’s response to the puppy dog eyes that Partitio shot his way. “It probably belongs to someone. A hunter’s partner, perhaps, like Mahina with Ochette.”

“But why would a hunter be hangin’ ‘round in the city-” Partitio started, but he was interrupted when the cat purred loudly and dropped back to the ground when someone came running up to them.

“Linde!”

Partitio and Osvald looked up to find a tall, muscular woman dressed in furs rushing towards them, and she stopped in front of the cat, Linde, and shook her head.

“How many times do I hath to tell thee to not runneth off on me?” she said, letting out an exasperated sigh. Partitio eyed the bow on her back and the axe strapped to her side. Well, Osvald must have been right about who the cat belonged to, because she sure did look like a hunter of some sort.

Linde let out a deep growl and trotted to the woman, purring as she brushed against her legs. The woman rolled her eyes and pet the large cat’s head.

“Silly leopard…” she mumbled, before standing up straight and looking between Osvald and Partitio. “I apologize foren her behavior. I hath no idea why she likes to bother strangers so much…”

“Heh, no harm done!” Partitio said with a wink. “We’ve got a big ol’ doggie back home, so I’m used to bein’ jumped on by cute, fluffy critters.”

“You’re lucky you came by when you did,” Osvald said, glancing at Partitio out of the corner of his narrowed eyes, “because he was about to try and take her home with us.”

“Shhh, sweetheart,” Partitio whispered as he jabbed his elbow into his side, “Don’t tell her that! She looks like she could give me a good wallop.” Osvald chuckled at that, and the woman tilted her head at them with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh, H’aanit, my love! You’ve returned!”

Suddenly, a tall, slender man dressed in scholarly robes pushed by Osvald and Partitio before gathering the startled hunter into his embrace. A soft smile crossed her face as she chuckled and embraced him in return.

“Aye, ‘tis good to see you, Cyrus.”

Cyrus pulled away and cupped H’aanit’s cheek. “Oh, my dear, I swear that you get more and more radiant every time you return to me. It makes it so much harder to let you out of my sight for even a moment.”

“Cyrus…” H’aanit’s face flushed a bright red, and she sighed as she pressed her forehead against Cyrus’. “I missed you too, love. T’wasn’t a second while I was away wheren I did not think of thee.”

“H’aanit…”

As the two shared a tender kiss, Partitio let out a dreamy sigh and turned to Osvald. “Daw! Ain’t they just the cutest, Osvald?”

“Er, I suppose.” Osvald cleared his throat, and he entwined his fingers with Partitio’s and tugged at his arm. “But, I feel like we are intruding, so perhaps we should go find the inn?”

“Ah, I guess you’re right.”

“Oh, wait a moment!”

As the two men turned to leave, they were stopped when Cyrus called out to them. Partitio shared a glance with Osvald, who gave him a slight nod and they both turned back. Cyrus was giving them a once-over as he rubbed his chin, while H’aanit threw the large sack that was sitting on the ground next to her over her shoulder.

“If my observation is correct, you two must be travelers,” Cyrus said with a smile, “What brings you to Atlasdam, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Osvald nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling a slightly crumpled envelope out of his coat that contained his invitation. “My name is Osvald Vanstein-Yellowil, and I am here to attend the academic conference at the Royal Academy.”

Cyrus let out a gasp and his entire face seemed to light up. “Oh, how fortuitous! Where do you hail from?”

“Clockbank, in the Eastern continent of Solistia.”

“Ah! I was hoping that a Solistian scholar would make the trip!” Cyrus laughed as he slapped a friendly hand to Osvald’s arm, “Oh, but where are my manners? My name is Cyrus Albright, and I am the acting headmaster of the Royal Academy.”

Partitio laughed and slapped his knee as Cyrus gave Osvald’s hand an enthusiastic shake. “Well shucks, ‘tis mighty lucky that we ran right into ya! My name’s Partitio, humble merchant and hubby of this smart cookie!” Partitio gushed as he hugged Osvald’s arm, causing the latter to blush and fiddle with his glasses.

“And I am H’aanit,” H’aanit said, and she turned to Cyrus as she rolled her eyes. “Thou should drop the ‘acting’ part already. You’ve been headmaster for five years now. I do not think anyone ‘tis going to apply for thee position.”

Cyrus let out a long sigh and placed the back of his hand over his forehead. “Oh, but I do wish that someone would! I cannot wholly devote myself to my studies and teaching when I have to run the entire academy…”

Partitio shared a glance with Osvald as Cyrus sulked, and the former snickered while the latter chuckled. Boy, they sure ran into quite the interesting pair of locals, and he couldn’t help but wonder how these two very different people ended up together…

Clearing his throat, Cyrus looked between the two visitors with a sparkle in his eye. “Oh, I have the most wonderful idea! If you two haven’t gotten a room at the inn yet, I must invite you to stay with H’aanit and I!”

Partitio blinked at them and quickly shook his head. “Now, hold on. We don’t wanna impose on ya or nothin’. We just met, after all.”

“Indeed, but…” H’aanit glanced around at the crowd around them. “Whenever a conference is held here, the inns fill up quickly. Theren might not be any rooms left by now.”

“Hmm, that’s a fair point,” Osvald said.

“Excellent! Do follow me!” Cyrus started walking further into Atlasdam, hand-in-hand with H’aanit, while Linde trotted alongside them.

“Well…I guess that’ll save us some coin,” Partitio said with a shrug as they made to follow, “I’m surprised you agreed to it so quickly though, darlin’.”

“Hmm…” was Osvald’s response, and as Partitio followed his gaze to Cyrus, an understanding smile crossed his face.

“Ah, I see. Yer just eager to talk shop with a fellow scholar, right?”

“...Perhaps.”

Partitio laughed and took Osvald’s hand. “Yer so predictable, darlin’. C’mon, let’s catch up to ‘em!” As Osvald entwined their fingers together, they hurried to do just that. After they had dropped off their bags at Cyrus and H’aanit’s house on the outskirts of town, they made their way to the tavern. On the way there, Cyrus lectured to them about the history of Atlasdam, the royal family, and the Royal Academy. Partitio was impressed with his charismatic ability to keep his interest, while Osvald was taking vigorous notes, and they found themselves seated in the tavern with a round of ales in what seemed like no time at all.

“So, my fellow scholar,” Cyrus said after they had settled in, and slapped a friendly hand to Osvald’s shoulder. “Please, you must enlighten me as to what your primary subject of research is!”

Osvald nodded and adjusted his glasses. “I’ve been studying up on the seventh source of magic that transcends the power of the known elemental magics, which I’ve dubbed the One True Magic.”

“A seventh source…” Cyrus mumbled as he rubbed at his chin, “To think that there is another besides the six elements. how intriguing…”

“Now, you tell me what you’re researching,” Osvald said, and Cyrus’ face lit up as he stood and started pacing, his arms waving dramatically as he spoke.

“Well, while on a journey to find and return a lost tome that was stolen from our library, I stumbled upon ruins filled with countless others thought to be lost to the world, along with an ancient mural depicting some sort of destructive force. I’ve dedicated most of my free time from teaching to studying them further, with hopes of spreading the knowledge for the betterment of mankind.”

“...Fascinating.” An intense look appeared in Osvald’s eyes as he folded his hands together on the table in front of him. “Please, tell me more.”

Cyrus was quick to take the open seat across from him. “Yes, of course! And in return, I am most eager to hear the details of this ‘One True Magic’ of yours.”

“Very well.”

“Oh no…”

Partitio and H’aanit spoke at the same time while they watched the two scholars lose themselves in their passionate discussion, and they shared a knowing glance.

“Heh, does yer man also never shut up once he gets that big ol’ brain of his goin’?” Partitio asked, flicking up the brim of his hat and shooting H’aanit a wink.

H’aanit sighed and shook her head, but a fond smile crossed her face as she watched Cyrus start to get rather animated with his lecturing. “Aye, ‘tis hard to get him to speaketh of anything else foren ages.”

“Shucks, we might be here a while then, H’aanit. What say we get ourselves a few more drinks and make ourselves comfortable, eh?”

She nodded and let out a chuckle in response, and Partitio downed his first drink before throwing an arm over his new friend’s shoulders and steering her towards the bar.

“So, H’aanit,” Partitio said, pausing to take a generous swig of his new drink; they had moved to an empty table to give their scholarly spouses their own space. “If ya don’t mind me askin’, how’d a hunter and a scholar end up together?”

H’aanit chuckled as she took a sip of her drink. “‘Tis fine. You are not the first to ask such a thing. I knoweth that we do seem a bit mismatched at first glance.

Partitio listened with great interest as H’aanit recounted the tale, about how she left her home in the Woodlands to hunt down a terrible monster and save her petrified master. She had met seven other travelers along the way, all with their own quests, and Cyrus was one of them. As she continued, Partitio couldn’t help but think this all seemed familiar somehow…

“...and after Cyrus was almost killed by the former headmaster, I could not holden my feelings for him back any longer.” H’aanit let out a light giggle as Partitio pushed a full mug towards her and gave the tavernkeep their combined four empty ones. “He apparently felt the same, and we confessed ouren feelings at the same time.”

“Aw, that’s so cute! Yer gonna make me cry!” Partitio sniffed as he rubbed his arm over his eyes. He gulped down more ale and let out a satisfied sigh as H’aanit continued her tale, one of defeating a petrifying monster and a corrupted scholar.

“Even though the danger was great, Cyrus stayed by my side through it all,” H’aanit said, “He is compassionate, selfless, passionate about his teaching…and also very handsome.”

“Y’all are too sweet, thanks fer sharin’ yer story with me!” Partitio said, red-faced and beaming as he clacked his mug against H’aanit’s and downed the rest of his drink, and she followed suit. She let out a hiccup and Partitio waved the tavernkeep over again, who raised an eyebrow at them as he set four more mugs of ale on the table.

“‘Tis your turn now, Partitio,” H’aanit said, her eyes half-lidded as she ran her finger around the rim of her mug. “How did thee and Osvald meet and fall in love?”

“Oh, I’d be happy to tell ya!” Partitio said, his voice a little too loud, and he took his turn in telling H’aanit all about his adventures with his seven friends. He talked about Osvald’s quest for revenge that turned into a rescue mission, and his own quest to buy the steam engine rights and put an end to poverty in Solistia.

“Osvald…He lost so much,” Partitio said, sniffing as a few tears fell down his face. Linde meowed from her spot on the floor and got up, placing her front paws on Partitio’s leg so that she could lean up and lick the tears from his face.

Partitio laughed and scratched the snow leopard behind the ears. “Aw, shucks! Thankee kindly, Linde!”

When Linde returned to her place curled up on the floor, Partitio leaned back in his chair as a comforting warmth spread throughout his chest. “I was kinda scared to tell Osvald how I felt at first. I didn’t want my feelin’s for him to dredge up the terrible pain from losin’ his wife. So, color me surprised when he told me he loved me that night, and we kissed for the first time under the pretty star-filled sky.”

“That is…very beautiful, Partitio,” H’aanit said, pausing to wipe away her silent tears. “Even though we just met, ‘tis plain to see howen much ye loven him, and he you.”

“That’s kind of ya to say, H’aanit.” Partitio beamed as he leaned back in his chair. “I gotta admit, these past five years have been the best of my life. Hells, I got to marry the love of my life, and make my dreams of buildin’ a steam train a reality too!”

“This steam train soundeth…interesting.” H’aanit said as she tilted her head curiously, “If what you sayeth is true about it making traveling great distances much faster, I wisheth that we had the same thing here. T’would maketh visiting friends easier.”

“Heh, well, I’d be happy to share what I know with y’all Orsterrans! Maybe Cyrus could figure out how to hook me up with an engineer or two.”

“He does hath many connections.”

Partitio snickered and let out a hiccup, and he waved over the tavernkeep for another round. “C’mon, H’aanit! Let’s -hic- toast again to…the future continental railroad of Orsterra!”

H’aanit giggled and toasted, their drinks spilling a bit due to their clumsiness before they each took a drink. “Heh, that soundeth fine to me. And we should -hic- also toast to the cutest snow leopard too.” Linde meowed as she rubbed up against H’aanit’s legs before doing the same to Partitio.

“Yeah! She deserves a few toasts!” Partitio yelled. H’aanit agreed wholeheartedly, and the two new friends continued making toast after toast after toast…

Hours later, Cyrus and Osvald finally emerged from their intense scholarly discussion, both having learned much from the other. Glancing at the window, Cyrus blinked and his eyes went wide.

“Oh my, look how late it is!” he said, laughing sheepishly as he rubbed at the back of his neck, “Time flies when discussing advanced magical systems, apparently.”

“Indeed.” Osvald glanced at the tavernkeep as he announced that it was closing time. “It was worth it, though. I learned much from you, and I cannot wait to apply your theories to my own studies.”

“And I yours!” Cyrus laughed as he stood up and looked around the tavern. “Now then, where have our partners gotten to-Oh dear…” Osvald followed Cyrus’ gaze, and he groaned at the sight and felt a headache coming on.

Partitio and H’aanit were sitting on the floor next to a sprawled-out Linde, who seemed to be greatly enjoying the attention that she was getting from the two incredibly drunk humans. Osvald looked at their table and the countless empty mugs strewn across the surface; unfortunately, this was not an uncommon sight.

“S-Shucks, she’s just so…cute and fluffy!” Partitio blubbered, sniffing as he hugged Linde’s side and rubbed his damp face against her soft fur.

“Aye…and s-she ‘tis the most loyal and -hic- s-special friend,” H’aanit said, and she choked out a sob as she hugged Linde’s head to her chest, “I loveth her s-so much.” Cyrus’ jaw hung open with shock as Linde mewed and licked the tears from H’aanit’s face.

“What in Alephan’s name…?” Osvald groaned as he rubbed at his temples, and Cyrus quickly rushed to the sobbing H’aanit’s side.

“H’aanit, my love, are you alright?” Cyrus placed a hand on her shoulder, and H’aanit pouted and buried her face against Linde, who purred and swished her tail back and forth.

“N-No, Cyrus, you cannot taketh her from me…”

“Oh, my heart, I would never dream of it, but we must go home now.”

As Cyrus tried to console his very drunk wife, Osvald turned to his very drunk husband and managed to peel him off of the large snowcat with his superior strength.

“Aw, sweetheart! I was havin’ fun…” Partitio whined, and Osvald rolled his eyes when a dramatic pout crossed his face and he reached out towards Linde with both hands.

“Partitio, did you really have to drink so much?” Osvald scolded, and a goofy grin crossed Partitio’s flushed face as he hugged one of Osvald’s arms tight to his chest.

“Heh, well, if you two smarty-pants scholars hadn’t -hic- been busy bein’ big ol’ nerds for such a long time, we wouldn’t have had to -hic- drink so much while waitin’ for ya!” he said, giggling as he leaned up to place a sloppy kiss on Osvald’s lips.

“Gods help me…” Osvald shook his head and brushed the back of his fingers over Partitio’s flushed cheek. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Partitio.” Partitio dissolved into giggles at that, and even in his annoyed state, Osvald couldn’t help but crack a smile. He was used to Partitio’s drunken antics by now, but he really wished that he wouldn’t drag others into it…

Osvald let out a tired sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Cyrus was still trying his best to pry the still crying H’aanit off of Linde, but to no avail. Glancing at the tavernkeep out of the corner of his eye, Osvald noted that he seemed very irritated, so he quickly grabbed Partitio and threw him over his shoulder, before scooping H’aanit up and tossing her over the other.

“Oh my…” Cyrus stood up and cleared his throat as he gave Osvald a once-over, “You are rather strong for a scholar, Osvald. You might even give my friend Olberic a run for his money in a contest of strength.”

“Yes, I have found that keeping a strong body is key in keeping a strong mind as well,” Osvald said as he and Cyrus split the massive tab that their spouses had racked up and quickly made their leave.

“Hmm, an intriguing concept…” Cyrus hummed as he tapped his chin, “I might have to try bulking up a bit.”

Osvald chuckled as he tightened his grip on Partitio and H’aanit’s legs, as the two were squirming around trying to pet Linde as she trotted along behind him. “It certainly has helped me on occasion, such as when I have to carry my drunkard husband home from the tavern.”

“Aw, c’mon darlin’!” Partitio whined, “I’m -hic- just a social drunkard!”

“...You are always social, Partitio.”

“Hehe, ya got me there!”

Osvald sighed and rolled his eyes as Partitio and H’aanit dissolved into a fit of giggles, and when H’aanit recovered, she reached out towards Cyrus with a pout on her face.

“Cyrus, I -hic- want you to carryen me…”

Cyrus flushed a bright red as Osvald stopped walking and glanced at him, and he nodded, letting Osvald lower H’aanit slowly into his arms. “I guess I can get started on that bulking up now…”

H’aanit glowered at him as he cradled her against his chest. “I am not that heavy.”

Cyrus paled and swallowed thickly. “Er, t-that’s not what I meant at all, my dear-” He started to defend himself, but it was unnecessary, as H’aanit had abruptly fallen asleep and was snoring softly.

Osvald noticed that Partitio had gone oddly silent, and he glanced back to find that he had also fallen asleep. Letting out a soft chuckle, he carefully moved Partitio so that he was cradling him in his arms.

“My apologies, Cyrus,” Osvald said when they started walking again, “Partitio loves his ale, a bit too much if you ask me…”

Cyrus chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, no need to apologize! I must admit, I don’t think that I’ve ever seen H’aanit quite this drunk before, but I guess this makes us even now after a certain incident a few years ago.”

“Oh?” Osvald raised a curious eyebrow, and Cyrus laughed before telling Osvald the tale of his first meeting with H’aanit’s master and adoptive father that ended with him being the drunken mess.

After they had made it to Cyrus and H’aanit’s house, the two sober scholars put their drunk spouses to bed and sat together at the kitchen table.

“Goodness! This had been quite an eventful evening!” Cyrus said after he had gotten them both glasses of water.

Osvald thanked him and let out a low chuckle. “Indeed. Partitio’s drinking habit can get out of hand at times, but I still love him all the same.”

“I can tell. You two must have quite the love story.”

“It…wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.” Osvald’s grip on his glass tightened, and Cyrus’ face fell.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to assume-”

Osvald shook his head and held up a hand. “It’s fine. I…was married before him.”

“Ah…”

Cyrus listened patiently as Osvald told him about Rita and Elena, Harvey’s betrayal that resulted in their supposed deaths and his own imprisonment, and his quest for revenge and eventual rescue of Elena. He left nothing out, and he wasn’t sure why he told Cyrus this. They were still practically strangers, but the Orsterran scholar was easy to talk to. Perhaps it was because they had spent so much time discussing their research, but Osvald felt like he could trust Cyrus wholeheartedly.

“Oh, Osvald, you certainly have been through hell and back,” Cyrus said, a sad smile crossing his face as he placed a gentle hand on Osvald’s arm. “But I am so very glad that you were able to save your daughter, and to find love again.”

Osvald smiled and placed a hand over his heart. “I was so certain that I forgot what love was, and yet, that pure-hearted merchant came into my life and taught me how again. I…don’t believe I could have succeeded in my quest without his unwavering support.”

“Love truly is a thing of beauty,” Cyrus mused, a fond smile crossing his face as he turned his face towards his bedroom door, “I must admit, I was completely oblivious about matters of the heart, so I was utterly blindsided when H’aanit managed to captivate me, heart and soul.”

Letting out a dreamy sigh, Cyrus continued: “H’aanit intrigued me from the moment we met, being a hunter from the secluded village of S’warkii, and I always learned a lot from our interactions. However, I also came to admire the strength of her character and body, her drive to help others even if it meant putting herself in danger, and her ethereal beauty, and I was already head-over-heels for her when I realized what I felt was love.”

Cyrus let out a chuckle and a light blush rose upon his cheeks. “It sounds a bit silly now, but I first realized I loved her after she had delivered the killing blow to a dragon of all things.”

“That is rather…unconventional,” Osvald commented, and Cyrus nodded in agreement.

“I am well aware. H’aanit still teases me about it from time to time…”

“That said, it is obvious that you two love each other dearly, and even though we just met, I am happy that you found happiness together.”

Cyrus laughed and lifted his glass of water into the air. “I feel very much the same, my good fellow. To love?”

Osvald smiled as he mirrored Cyrus’ movement. “To love.”

They clacked their glasses together and downed the contents before bidding each other farewell and heading to bed. When morning came, the two scholars were feeling content and chipper, and their spouses…not so much.

“Ugh, my head…” H’aanit grumbled, her forehead pressed against the table as she rubbed at her temples.

“Everythin’ ‘urts…” Partitio gulped, nausea bubbling within his gut as he turned his pale face towards the hunter. “I’m never drinkin’ again…”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Osvald said, snorting as he continued helping Cyrus make coffee. Cyrus chuckled as he added a generous amount of milk to two of the cups, causing Osvald’s face to scrunch up.

“Ugh, abysmal! You’re just as bad as Partitio…” he grumbled, feeling very betrayed by his fellow scholar at the moment. Cyrus laughed and waved him off as he placed one of the cups in front of Partitio, who took a big drink that immediately regretted, and he stuck out his tongue while sucking in a few quick breaths.

“Hot, hot!” Partitio winced and let his head drop to the table with a groan. Osvald rolled his eyes and set a cup of black coffee in front of H’aanit before joining them at the table.

“You should know better, love,” Osvald scolded as he handed him a glass of water and rubbed his back before turning to H’aanit, “At least someone here knows how to properly enjoy a cup of coffee.”

“Aye…” H’aanit offered Osvald a weak smile as she slowly lifted her head off the table, “‘Tis how my master used to make it foren me. Anything else ‘tis too sweet.” Hmm, Osvald was starting to think that H’aanit was his Orsterran kindred spirit instead of Cyrus…

“Heh, well how ‘bout that, us preparing our coffee’s the same two ways.” Partitio seemed to recover slightly as he beamed and held up his slightly cooled off cup. “It’s like we’re two sides of the same coin! To new friends!”

“To new friends!” the other three echoed, and they enjoyed a nice breakfast to help the hungover parties to recover from their night of revelry.

The academic conference lasted a week, and was a rousing success. Osvald and Partitio decided to stay another week, as Osvald had wanted to peruse the library and sit in on a few of Cyrus’ lectures. Meanwhile, Partitio helped H’aanit get some sweet deals on her hunting supplies and she taught him how to make some basic hunting traps in return.

When it was time for them to depart, the four friends embraced each other at the road leading out of Atlasdam, and the two Solistians gave Linde a generous amount of pets and head scratches. Partitio knew that it was time to hit the trail and find a new adventure, but he really was going to miss their new friends.

“Safe travels, you two!” Cyrus said, giving Osvald and Partitio’s hands a good shake, “If you ever find yourselves in Orsterra again, you are always welcome in our home!”

H’aanit nodded and held out a small sack. “Indeed, and taketh this. ‘Tis filled with dried meat from my most recent hunting trip.”

“Aw, thanks H’aanit! If it’s as good as what you’ve been cookin’ us for dinner, then I’m sure it’s mighty tasty!” Partitio gushed as he took the sack, and H’aanit laughed.

“And if you two ever come to Solistia, you can find us in Clockbank in the Brightlands,” Osvald said, nodding as he adjusted his glasses, “There is a massive library in Montwise that I would love to show you, Cyrus.”

“Oh, I am most looking forward to it!”

With a final round of hugs, Osvald and Partitio set off into the Flatlands, with Cyrus and H’aanit waving until they were out of sight.

“Shoot, darlin’! That was tons of fun!” Partitio said, beaming as he gave Osvald’s hand a squeeze and swung their arms with his giddiness. “I’m glad we met Cyrus and H’aanit, they were a hoot! Oh, and Linde too!”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Osvald hummed as he pulled out a hefty stack of paper. “And I have written down every single new piece of knowledge that I’ve obtained for Elena. Do you think that the courier will take this many pages at once?”

“Osvald, sweetheart…”

Partitio burst out laughing as Osvald pouted at him, but his laughter soon joined in, and with hearts full of love for their new friends and the fond memories that they had made together, they continued their journey through Orsterra, excited to see what else awaited them.

[hummingbird-hunter]

You can bring back a type of dinosaur, and replace a modern animal with that dinosaur. The dinosaur will then assume the role of that animal, but other than that they wouldnt change.

Eg: you brought back t-rexs and replaced cats with them, t-rexs would live in people's houses as cats, and be pets, but they would still be massive dinosaurs. But if you replaced lions with triceratops, they'd be aggressive and attack other animals

What dinosaur are you bringing back, and what animal are you replacing?

Well, the first part is pretty easy, I would bring back stegosauruses (stegosauri?) Stegosaurs.

The second part is much harder; of course, we can't replace something like mosquitoes due to the sheer number of them, so we need something of at least roughly similar size; first thought would be something like rhinoceros, because — well, I'm no biologist but I think so at least — they already fit pretty similar biological niche; but then they'd be wild animals that I would never see them, so what would even be the difference?

But then, I wouldn't really want to replace any domestic animal; I love cats, I love dogs, and I wouldn't want them to dissappear; and furthermore, stegosaurs are too big to be house pets, so either they would only be available for rich people with giant yards, which doesn't really makes sense if we're replacing, for example, dogs, who frequently work as service animals, guide dogs, etc — so for that to work, it would seem like this replacement won't just affect the animal, but also the reality itself — making houses bigger to accommodate such large pets. So, yeah, we're not doing that

Another option would be to replace something like cows, or sheep; them being more similar size to a stegosaurs than a dog would be; but that would be such a cruel thing to wish for. Bring back an animal, just to put it into meat industry? No, we're definitely not doing that.

What about donkeys? Still farm animals, but ones that are not used for produce. But then, they don't really have it all that good either, do they? If the world was perfect, maybe, if animal welfare wasn't something in need to be fought for; but in this non-perfect world I am not giving them the terrible fate of domestication.

So let's go back to rhinos, maybe it is indeed the best option — but then, rhinos are hunted for their horns, elephants — for their tusks, and that's not even taking into account them being stolen and mistreated for circuses and other human entertainment.

So, yeah, maybe that is also not the best idea, and honestly I still really want to have them at least close to humans. So, what about a type of snake? Or maybe a tortoise? A one that is peacefully living in the wild, but also that it wouldn't be unheard of for one to be a pet; but then — and here, once again, my own feelings come into account — would a stegosaurus pet love me back? I know snakes don't, and if the stegosaurus takes the behavior of the animal it replaced, would it inherit all of its characteristics and instincts? It seems so, according to the phrasing of your question; but then it begs another question — am I even really replacing anything? If the mind and behavior remains the same, am I not just shape-shifting the original animals into stegosaurs?

If so, would the animals even know? Would it change anything? We've already established that if dogs were to be replaced it would starkly change the universe, but what about wild animals? Would an alligator bring such a change? And what if I were to replace a bird, would stegosaurs be able to fly? I doubt it, but then it seems the world would need to change to have them fit the same biological niche. Would each bird have its memories?

This is a tough question, that would rewrite the universe itself and there would be now way for us to know! Even if we somehow remembered the world "before", we wouldn't really be able to uncover all details and caveats that this change brought. But we can try. In fact, there is a way to get as close to the answers as we possibly can.

And that is to have stegosaurs replace humans