"Don't care if he's guilty, don't care if he's not. He's good and he's bad and he's all that I've got... He did what he had to do..." (x)
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New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season
Chapter 37 - “Allay Flower (Scott)”
❤️ Read on AO3
💛 Start from Chapter 1
💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics
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The art of confronting Mayor Smajor1995 over crude and unusual crimes. End Session 2.
(First 1,000 words under the cut)
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This preview contains major Dog's Life & Pixels Imperfect series spoilers - Read at own discretion
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Smajor1995 - Corrupted Vex; Allay *
Status: In control
Social activist and mayor (with a background in food service and retail)
🖤 🖤 🖤
Time ticks. No one expects him to handle anything right now. He can't reach anyone with his communicator. He'd rather not be caught around his office. Once he's done eating a couple souls more (No longer eyeballing usernames), Scott spends a few minutes tidying papers. The empty player file cases will need to come with him until he can toss them somewhere. Or leave them near the greedy hub flower. He sweeps a stack of fresh files in the bundle he usually uses for amethyst crystals. He ate them all earlier; this is perfect. No one will think it's odd he's carrying something on a full moon night. See, as long as you walk with purpose, no one will question you much at all.
There. He ties the bundle shut. That should be more than enough to get him through the week. Maybe the month, if vex don't need to feed much. If anyone asks, he'll say he pulled the files for safekeeping, then fled so the hub flower wouldn't devour him. He's ill, remember. And Pearl thinks he's in her room. She's logged off by now, probably- She was nearly in phantom hour when she left her place.
Gods, I hope Tango can get the vex code out of me by morning. Tango isn't Etho, but he's the next best thing.
Scott hangs the bag from his belt. When he has the chance, he'd like to remove the 62 amethyst swords from his soul slot. But there's no room for them in the office and it wouldn't be a good idea… Allay are the only hybrids he knows who can carry stacked swords like this, so that would throw even more suspicion on his species.
Those swords are handcrafted. They took him years. They're brittle and fragile. The blades are amethyst to ward off vex, but the hilts are wrapped in leather. They shouldn't sting his hand. He'd like to put them somewhere he can get back to in a pinch. Scott considers the gloves a moment, then strips them off. Oof. He lost a lot of pixels; he can tell where his skin has gotten thin.
He lays the gloves on the table, presses his palm against them, and wills their color and shape out of existence. Pixel manipulation isn't his strength - Bdubs, Joel, and Lizzie are a lot better at this (and probably BigB, though that's an illusioner stereotype) - but gradually, over the course of a few moments, he absorbs the pixels that define the mass beneath his hand as Scott's Gloves and melds them into his form. His body shifts. Scott exhales. Ripples of code carry the pixels where they need to go. He shrugs his shoulders, shakes out his arms, and smooths out his nicks and gashes. There's no helping the glitch. He's not willing to cut it from his body. Or let Tango do that. He asked for anti-viruses instead.
Okay. All done? Yeah. All done here.
So he leaves. He does what he needs to do, he changes to his old Totoro hoodie skin, and then he leaves. After one final look in the office (the hub flower still slithering on the floor), Scott shuts and locks the door. Anyone who wants to get in can chat with him about it. He'll get in touch with someone when the world stops spinning.
He takes one of the side passages from the building. Not the one with his tunnel design that feeds directly into the multiplayer station, but it's close. The echo of his shuffling feet comes off familiar, somehow, and Scott grants himself a much-needed massage up and down his face with one hand. Okay.
Well, he's feeling much better than he did an hour ago. Every breath is easier. He has a clearer head. And he's no longer taking damage ticks, so huge plus for that. Is he back to full health? I mean, with double regen across the station, logic would suggest he's safe again. He almost wants to laugh, one hand pressed to the bundle at his leg. Ah… Yeah. He may still be underground and it may be an exhausting, dreary day, but… The air seems fresh. It's a beautiful place to be.
He walks quickly, but not so quickly that he'll draw attention. At least one sleeve-covered hand grips his hood at all times, pulling it forward so no soul particles will leak from his skin and twinkle in the air. Once he pulls the hoodie off, it'll look like a snow day in the bedroom, but if he can make it back to Pearl's, he's home free. Some of the slimes and blaze hybrids are shouting. Apparently a flag's gone missing. He hears Jimmy's name, but it's not his business. Jimmy broke up with him when Last Life started; he can handle his own issues. He's doing game night things anyway. Hmm. Scott takes an extra street around those guys just for distance. He prefers moving in circles anyway, so no harm done.
New Star Station's never had the brightest streets. The lanterns do okay, but they'll never replace the aboveground sun. Scott pulls out the documents HALO Cobalt gave him, glancing through again as he goes. He did read them while sitting in the hall. He really shouldn't be doing this - walking around with sensitive material exposed - but he just wants to check a few details. He keeps to less crowded streets, checking left and right. See? He's keeping watch. He doesn't do this long. Just enough to get the gist, and it's not pretty. Oof. Yikes. Messy stuff. Busy night. Sighing, Scott hugs the papers to his chest and walks a little faster.
Stupid sensitivity training. Let's hope BigB doesn't find out about that one. Maybe he can sway someone into letting Cleo give him that class. Then he can knock it out while they're building the starter base on their new AFK.
He does run into BigB, Bdubs, and Martyn on his way. BigB gives him a few furrow-browed looks, so Scott keeps his hood tight and his sleeves pulled as far over his hands as he can. Thank goodness the Totoro hoodie's always been big on him. Plus, it makes his hair look darker. He checked his F5 eyes while getting changed and he's grown a few streaks as gray as vex. They show through his skin design and mark his hair, but there's nothing to be done about that. He's going to show "allay coverage" somewhere on his body unless his next respawn is under a new or waning moon.
Spoilers, though… It won't be. First quarter form forever, so let's get weird about it.
At least the hair's not the only place that's blue. A lot of hybrids don't have hair to match their mob traits - Scar's got brown even though he's an allay-turned-vex - so people don't usually question his head hair. They don't usually question the blue on his chest either. And he looks good. Jimmy has no idea what he ran out on. At least Sausage knows how to make a man feel wanted, even if it mostly with sideways glances. Oh, that smarts.
Standing next to BigB, hearing out Martyn's demands, Scott huffs at the papers in his arms.
Oh, gods. Just look at you… So far in the closet, you can't be touched like you want without coming out to people over and over again. Maybe that's the worst kind of hell- Local bossy gay man who wants to flirt and flounce so much gives himself a hard time. And he knows there's humanity in his otherwise allay soul, because allays probably flirt the worst out of every mob on the list.
But it's safer in the closet. His flickering anti-viruses are fighting the good fight, but Scott still grits his teeth and stands firm as Martyn pushes for the right to leave the station. Tango better fix this soon. By now, the infection's spread from his hand halfway up his elbow and it hurts like setting spawn over Nether lava. And this just lasts for the rest of his life? A billion years and so on? Ah, no thank you. Who would ever want to be a vex?
[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]
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