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wyrmst · 2 years ago

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No Vacancy (Part Four)

M Orc x M Merfolk Reader

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Wordcount: 3291

Content Warnings: Brief Non-Graphic Depiction of Sex Work, Slit Fingering/Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Sexual Harassment

Did my best with the content warnings this time, but honestly not sure how I would even tag some of the stuff in this part? Regardless, we’re over the hump now for this story! Just two more parts to go :)

Inadequate. Pitiful. Embarrassing.

These are just some of the words that could describe this situation.

<I’m sorry, this has never been a problem before.> You sign to your client, frustrated. <It’s not your fault.>

<It’s okay, I’m sure this happens to everyone sometimes, right?> Your client signs to you in return, attempting to comfort you with a sheepish look.

In the couple of years you’ve been doing this - you have never had any trouble getting the job done before.

But now this-

You can’t even present the tool needed to complete the task. No matter what you do, your dick stubbornly won’t emerge from your genital vent. The thing might as well be welded shut.

It’s not like the client is unappealing to you, either. You find most mermaids attractive on some level - but it’s never had much to do with how they look, anyway. It’s just a job to you, a pleasant biological process that you exchange for extra gold every June and December.

Eventually, you both decide to give up. There’s no point in wasting any more of either of your time when it’s clear that nothing is going to happen.

You push the seaweed curtain to the side as you swim out of the mermaid’s private cove, still absolutely mortified.

It seems all you’re doing lately is fleeing awkward situations…

The client was nice enough to be graceful about your failure to do your job. Your boss, on the other hand, is not going to be so nice.

The next day when you arrive, Madame does indeed rip you a new one.

<What happened?> She signs, her ornately lacquered finger nails a bit more tense than normal from her clear irritation.

You sign in turn, movements trailing off into the next as you try to collect your thoughts better. <We just didn’t… click.>

In the back of your mind, you know exactly why you failed, even if you haven’t fully accepted it yourself yet.

<Unacceptable. This isn't a question of personal preference, you’re still expected to perform.> Her brightly lined eyes narrow at you, and her fins flare out in thought. <Your track record is spotless- aside from the cyclone this past summer- so this is rather surprising.>

<So, you already know I can do better.> You reassure her. If anything, you know how to market yourself. <It was just a fluke.>

Is she… actually showing concern?

<;A permanent leave. Not everyone can handle this job, after all.> She continues, shattering any hope of relief.

No, of course not. Of course it's only about metrics.

<No! No. I need the gold.>

<Well, if that's the case, I need your assignments done without issue. It will hurt the reputation of my business if you can't even manage that much.>

<Please give me another chance.> You're sick to your stomach that you're groveling like this to keep a job you don't even really want. You have too much self worth for the taste to go down smoothly. The extra pay is just too good to let go. <It won't happen again.>

<Make sure it doesn't.> She swims over to the cove wall where several rectangular planks of carved abalone and nacre are strung along a rope. She pulls off a blush pink plank with your next assignment's location painted on it off the line and then swims back over to hand it to you.

You swim out of there, and out of the lobby so fast the receptionist probably only sees a blur of blue and purple.

You're absolutely seething. You're surprised the water isn't boiling around your face, with all the heat of the restrained anger gathered there.

It was difficult to resist the urge to quit on the spot. You wish you could…

But it pays so, so much better than your regular courier gigs, and it’s only two months of the year.

So, you swallow your pride. It's all you can do.

After hours of high speed swimming and your anger has finally cooled off considerably, you start thinking about taking a break.

Normally on this route, you’d book a room for an overnight rest when you caught up to Varuj’s ship, but…

You cringe even thinking about it now.

How could you even face him after what happened the last time? What would you even say?

Even with your mind fully occupied with self-scolding and self-loathing, your body has absent-mindedly navigated to follow his ship’s route. And sure enough, as soon as you’ve realized it, you spot a familiar keel in the distance.

You want to talk to him. You miss talking to him already. You just… have to actually say something….

But what?

Slowing from your rapid cruising speed, you pull up alongside the boat’s side. You barely break the surface enough to scan for a sign of him above deck in the crowd of people enjoying the clear weather.

He's chatting to some of his passengers like he usually does, with an effortless charisma. Varuj may not be loud or bombastic or overtly attention grabbing, but he has such a warm personality that people tend to naturally gravitate to him. Even during your stays, he often ends up with a small group of tourists around him- he can turn anyone into a friend, it seems.

…Even people like Uttar, apparently. The thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Varuj seems to be doing fine. Great, even. He's certainly at least behaving normally, which is more than what could be said for you.

Why is that, when you're this torn up? When it feels like your entire life has been shattered to pieces?

Things were going fine. He just had to suggest making things more… involved…

Being able to quit sounded so nice at face value, but he doesn't know the reason you're doing this. You'll never pay off your debt if you go back to normal, less shady courier work.

Varuj did offer you work, but… who knows if that'd be enough, either.

More importantly, you don't want to be indebted to him like that, not anymore than you want to be to Uttar- or anyone else, for that matter.

What was he thinking, even suggesting that? Maybe he was just drunk…

You grimace and dip back underneath the white caps before you're spotted.

You can't deal with this right now. You don't want to know, if that's the case, anyway.

You eventually find a cove to rent for the night, but it's annoyingly far out of the way of your route back. You prefer staying on Varuj's ship on your work journeys because the vessel keeps making progress in the right direction while you rest… that's not the only reason, of course, but it's what you're lamenting the most as you mire yourself between the bunches of kelp, trying to get comfortable.

But no matter how you arrange yourself, you can't seem to find a position you feel at ease. Your body is still far too worked up from earlier, and craving the release it didn’t get.

Your mind wanders back to where you'd rather be; what you’d rather be doing and who you’d rather be doing it with, and your hands follow suit.

The soft edges of your vent are warm to the touch and throbbing lightly already, just remembering how it feels.

Really? Now? You mentally chide your body.

You lightly trace your opening the way Varuj usually does at the beginning of an encounter. The more you think about him, the more your muscles loosen up obediently, viscous natural lubricant starting to coat your fingers.

Where was this enthusiasm when I needed it earlier?

After barely any encouragement, your cock has already begun to emerge from the top portion of your slit from the sensation, stiff and craving the warm squeeze of his mouth and the smooth point of his tusks on your inner thighs.

Ugh… why did it have to be like this?

It makes sense, you guess.

It’s different with Varuj than with clients, anyway, to the point that you’d much rather it be him than a client. There’s a level of freedom there that you don’t get when it’s someone you’re assigned to please- at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

You had such a good thing going. It was… Easy. And now…

He just wants to tie you down, like everyone else.

And nothing good ever comes out of owing anyone anything.

At some point, the heady thoughts about his mouth on your cock has shifted into thoughts about his mouth on your own instead; a prospect that is equal parts exciting and confusing. You’ve never been so aroused by the thought of kissing someone, but here you are. Before him, you didn’t even think you were even all that interested in kissing. But remembering the sensation of warm, slick tongue muscle and the soft hum of affirmative grunting against your lips, you find that you’ve really come to crave it.

Tentatively, you start pressing into your lower slit and into your entrance, thinking of his girthy fingers being the ones pressing inside instead.

To your surprise and moreso chagrin, your fingers slip inside with almost insulting ease. Spurred on by lust, you slowly, firmly, press your fingers deeper inside.

You never expected things to end up like this. While you’ve always enjoyed Varuj’s company, you prefer your boundaries well defined, and he is far from your usual type.

But you can't deny the effect fantasizing about him is having on you- No resistance, with each little wriggle of your fingers making your hips jerk against your hand. A stark difference from your failed attempts to do your job lately.

Unfortunately, lightly fingering yourself isn’t really satisfying you enough. You’re accustomed to more mass than even three of your fingers can achieve, and they can’t recreate the knobby texture ubiquitous of his orcish dick.

Chasing the memory of that feeling, your fingers move more emphatically on their own. They thrust deeper in, with more firm pressure behind your strokes until you feel the dizzying jolts of pleasure going straight behind your eyes.

You’re so worked up that it doesn't take much of that solid rhythm to push you over the edge. The edges of your vent contract around your fingers, clenching along with the pelvic muscles forcing cum out of you. Thick, vicious seed disperses into the water above you, suspended in the mild current as it slowly disappears.

Your gills pulse in silent panting. It felt good, but there's a deep pit of dread hollowing out your chest overshadowing the afterglow.

It’s as you suspected, as if you really needed to investigate it. Your dick definitely still works. Your body isn’t suddenly incapable of arousal- though it might be easier if that was the case - it’s a natural side effect that commonly happens to some merfolk.

It’s spawnlock.

Varuj is the only partner your body will accept now, whether in person or just the thought of him.

You know exactly what that means.

As much as you have been denying it and avoiding it and lying to yourself the feeling is there, and being expressed by your body regardless of your permission.

You love him.

And the feelings you’ve developed for him are now a physical obstacle for your work.

…This is bad.

You rub your face with a palm in frustration and exhaustion, swaying silently in the water for the rest of the night.

In the morning, you still continue to your next client’s location, though the tenseness in your shoulders makes swimming much less enjoyable.

This can still work. Maybe if you just… think about him hard enough, you can bypass the effect?

You spend the rest of your travel trying to psych yourself up and push through, to continue on like nothing has happened. You get all the way there and begin the session, stubbornly committing.

It does not work like you’d hoped. No matter what you try, it’s the same results as before.

…Unfortunately, your willpower isn’t strong enough to trick your body. Just thinking about him isn’t enough, not with the presence of another person and not him.

<What’s this? You fall in love on the way over here?> Your client signs, punctuating her thoughts by curling her fingers in manual laughter.

At least she’s amused. You don’t know if it’s worse or better this way; you suppose it’s better than her being angry, but you’re not sure how much more bruising your ego can take.

You apologize, accepting defeat much quick this time than the last, and leave the client’s dwelling in shame as fast as your fins can manage.

A cold hand of dread grips your chest as you exit the cove.

There’s no way around it. You can’t work this job anymore, and it’s your own fault.

You don’t even bother taking a rest this time, instead rushing through the swim to get back to Madame’s place. You’d rather just face the music and get it over with.

The trip is strangely serene. You expected to be panicking on what this means for how you can pay off your debt, but all you feel is a calm, empty resentment for your situation.

<You have a lot of nerve coming back here.> She points at you accusatorily as you enter. <You asked for a second chance and this is what you do with it?>

You set the plank with the information about your last failed job on her desk.

<Look. I did my best. But->

She swipes her hand through the water, interrupting you.

<There’s not much to explain.> Her expression is somewhere between scorn and pity. <You got yourself a little crush?>

<I've been doing this a long time.> She shakes her head in admonishment. <It’s not a past client, I hope? That never ends well.>

You don't respond. The fins on the sides of your head flutter through the water in simmering rage, the only movement you're making as you stare her down. Your hands don't need to do the speaking when your eyes are certainly already taking care of it.

<Your contract is void.> She signs pointedly, her glossy lips pulled into a tight, sanctimonious grimace as she seems to savor adding the last movements. <You're fired.>

<You don’t have to fire me - I quit!> You finally snap and sign the last word over and over for emphasis, letting the simmering frustration boil over. <Quit. Quit. Quit.>

You turn your back and storm out, your hands still repeatedly forming the decoupling shape of quit as you go- it’s petty, but you're going to have the last word.

You want nothing more than to run- just swim off so far and so fast that you can leave all of this behind.

But what’s the point in trying? The tracking rune that was placed on you when you were saddled with the debt would only make it a matter of time until you were caught, anyway.

Swimming aimlessly calms you down eventually… You realize you’re following Varuj’s ship route, again.

This time you force yourself to veer off, deciding to go to where Uttar’s ship would be right now. You don’t want to, but he’ll find out what happened sooner rather than later. He’ll at least have a courier job for you to pick up, most likely…

You feel detached from your body when you finally arrive. Every bone and scale on your body is telling you not to board the ship… but you do. You have to.

“Well, would ye look at that,” Uttar says, picking his teeth in a tarnished, ornate handmirror. “Favorite little fish ‘o mine is back early. But Spawn’s still goin’ for another week or so, aye?”

You know he already knows what happened. Once again, he just delights in yanking you around.

“That arrangement’s not working out anymore. This isn’t something I can keep doing.”

“Real shame that is. As I recall it, you don’t exactly have the luxury to be picky about what jobs ye choose to take.”

“It’s not a choice.” You clench your fists at your sides, trying to keep your voice even and unraised, determined to not let him feed off of any reaction. “I physically can’t do it. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“None a’my business? You are business-” You can basically smell the burning rubber from his speech grinding to a halt as the gears visibly work in his head.

Then, with the realization, he laughs boisterously. It’s a nasty, cruel laugh, meant to taunt you in and of itself. He drops the mirror and gets up from his seat, coming around the side of his desk to approach you.

“Oh, hoho, fishie’s gone an’ fallen in loooooove, ‘ave we?” He throws an arm around your shoulders in a clearly fake, over-acted chummy manner. You resist the urge to dig your teeth into his forearm and not let go. “Who’s the lucky lady? Or gent, more like?”

He’s playing dumb to make the end result more vicious. You know, because you’ve heard that tone before.

“Must be ol’ Rujie, huh? Seein’ as ye were at his little shindig the other day. Looked like ya saw a ghost when ya seen me there!”

“No.” You say, not convincing anyone. You hate that he’s even talking about him.

“Me an’ him go way back, y’know?” Uttar continues, absolutely ignoring the fact that you attempted to deny it. “If I’m bein’ honest with ya, though? -Because y’know I have yer best interest at heart- the salty dog laid with each an’ every able bodied seaman he could get his mitts on. With ya here like this workin’? He’s probably got his mitts on some other man as we speak.”

“We’re not dating.” You say coldly, a deep disgust that he’s trying to smear Varuj’s character tying a knot in your stomach.

“Aye? Got ya all loved up and then cut ya loose?” His arm around your shoulder tightens. “Well, a pity, that; it limitin’ yer options an’ all. The merladies pay much better during Spawn times, as y’know. Landlubbers won’t pay quite as well; but their gold’s still gold. And you still have a debt to pay off.”

“Landlubbers…?” You repeat, the full realization of what he’s saying begins to sink in. “...Oh...”

“What, thought ya were off the hook?” He laughs another cutting acidic laugh, and moves his arm to swat you on the ass. “Ya might be locked up in front, but from where yer standin’, round back will still work fine.”

You’re unable to protest the crossed physical boundary, too shocked to even speak.

“Maybe yer gonna think twice about letting me knock some o’ that interest off, aye? For now, go ahead an’ deliver this parcel for me.” Uttar shoves one of the typical shady-looking wrapped packages you’re used to delivering into your open palms. “I’ll line up a new Madame from one of the pleasure boats to handle ye between runs. Ye’ll be back to work by time yer back, ain’t that nice?”

He keeps talking, but it’s just a verbal slurry at this point.

You swallow dryly, and your fingers slowly clench around the parcel in numb, wordless despair.

>> ✨ MASTERLIST

#exophilia #monster lover #monster romance #mlm #monster x reader #orc #orc x reader #male monster #male reader #merman reader #gay exophilia #mlm exophilia #oc: noa #oc: varuj #series: no vacancy #nine of words

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lionessinarms · 10 months ago

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The Months in Between

CHAPTER 3

It's a new morning in Firetown. The streets are practically cleaned up. Crews are now working on fixing utilities. Wade is there back at it as a city inspector. Wearing his yellow shirt, pink tie, and a hard hat. He waves over a construction worker. "Come on there is somebody I would like you to meet."

From inside the Fireplace, Wade walks in, "Good morning Ember, Mr. and Mrs. Lumen."

"Hello Wade." Bernie says first.

Wade turns to Bernie "I want to introduce you to Element City's master welder. He's in need of interns to help with the flood gate repairs to keep the water out. And we both agreed Firetown is the place to recruit them. Could you help us get the word out? It's pays really well but it's hard work."

Bernie, "Of course Wade I know everybody in Firetown."

"Great he's right outside, come meet him."

All four of them step outside and are greeted by a large volcanic Earth element. The Lumens and Ember can't believe their eyes. A half Earth half Firish Element. He's taller then Wade and has fire in his eyes. Flames come out the top of his head. His hands and feet are glowing magma. When he speaks you can see fire burning in back of his throat.

Wade introduces them, "Everyone this is Vinny. Vinny, these are the Lumens, their Shop, the Fireplace, is a huge part of the Firetown community.

Vinny stretches out his hand to shake, "Nice to meet you, I have never been to Firetown before. I mainly work in the welding hub uptown."

Ember smiles and steps forward to shake his hand, "Nice to meet you too, my name is Ember, welcome to Firetown." Ember then turns to Wade smiling. He returns the smile knowing full well what meeting an Element like Vinny means to her.

Cinder wide eyed form a distance whispers to Flarrietta, "I didn't know Earth and Fire can mix."

Flarrietta laughs at Cinder, "Oh you and Bernie have living under the Shop too long." She whips out her phone and shows Cinder a picture. "This is my brother, Firish of course, and his wife is Earth and that's my little nephew. Isn't he the cutest magma Element?" Cinder smiles softly at the picture of the cute boy.

Back to Vinny, "Well Wade here tells me you guys might know of any Firish that can help weld. We need all the help we can get." Vinny points over to a canal. "You see how the canals are full of water again? Yeah, that is the only thing relieving water pressure right now. We get a big rain storm and there will be another huge flood." By this time many of the Firish in the neighborhood have gathered around Vinny listening to what he has to say. "We need to get those new flood doors welded shut so it will help direct the water around Firetown. Then it won't be in danger anymore. But the work is really dangerous. You'll be near water all day unfortunately."

Ember tells Vinny, "It's my fault the doors failed. The tempered glass didn't hold."

Wade runs up next to Ember refusing to let her take the blame, "Wait no it's not."

Vinny looks down at Ember, "That was your work?" Then starts to laugh. Ember looks embarrassed but Vinny goes on. "Oh kid, that worked for the water but the hinges on the door were too old and it cause a lot of added pressure. Sorry to laugh but I'm actually really impressed. Tempered glass is not easy to make by hand. Who else helped you?"

Ember surprised goes, "No one. Just me."

Vinny just stares at her for a minute in disbelief then tells her, "Oh you're hired! We desperately need that talent." Vinny yells out to crowd, "Anyone else interested?" A few Firish men step forward to speak to Vinny.

Wade and Bernie are side by side looking horrified. They both don't like the idea of Ember working a dangerous job.

Wade speaks to Ember first, "Whoa hold up, you don't have to do this."

"Wade's right Ember this sounds too dangerous." Bernie pleads.

Ember takes a second for herself and thinks. Her eyes darting back and forth. "I think I'm supposed to." She turns to Wade. "I feel really guilty that we fixed the door and Firetown flooded anyway." She starts to walk away from them over to a canal. "Vinny seem really impressed with my glass." She looks at her reflection in the water. "What if I can learn to do better?" She then turns back them. "I have to try."

Wade and Bernie are side by side again. Wade doesn't know how to argue with that. Bernie though has his head in his hands. "Why? Why does it have to be near water? Why?" Then Bernie realizes he's next to Wade, "Umm no offense."

Wade tells Bernie, "None taken."

Ember turns to walk over to Vinny, "Hey when do I start?"

Bernie turns to Wade and tells him a story, "Ay-yah, years ago before the city shut of the water the first time, I would catch Ember playing near the canals. Despite me telling her numerous times how dangerous that was. She was always so curious." Bernie breathes a heavy sigh.

Wade's phone rings and it's Gale, "Hi Gale, yeah I'm in Firetown..." and starts to walk off.

Ember meets back up with her dad, "I start tomorrow morning, I'll be off in the afternoons to help with the Shop repairs which is fine because I'm no stranger to hard work. I learned that from the best. I'm going to make this right Àshfá."

Bernie breaths out a heavy sigh but then smiles up at her, "Good daughter."

Wade cuts in with his hand over the phone, "Hey sorry but I get to get back to work soon."

Ember, "Oh wait." Then pulls Wade aside so it's just the two of them. Wade hung up his phone at this point. Wondering what Ember wants to talk to him about in private. Ember leans in, "You knew Elements could mix this whole time?"

"Actually I forgot about Vinny until yesterday and I have a Water buddy of mine who just proposed to his long time Earth girlfriend. I honestly didn't know about Fire and Water mixing but..." Wade looks over at Ember's hand and grabs it with his own. "...I just hoped it would work out and it did."

Ember looks at him lovingly, "Well looks like I'll be at city hall first thing tomorrow."

"And I'll be there with you." He gives Ember a hug and kiss telling her, "I love you. See you tomorrow."

"Love you too."

As Wade heads back to work he quickly tells Bernie, "Don't worry I'll keep an eye on her and try to keep her safe."

Bernie laughs, "Ha, good luck."

Ember walks up to her dad as they both watch Wade leave. Bernie says to Ember, "It's still weird that he's Water but the more I get to know him the more I keep forgetting that." Ember just smiles and thinks to herself it's another baby step.

It's early morning at City Hall. Ember is across the street looking up at the Earth building. She has her familiar hoodie on with a cross body purse. She is admiring City Hall's beautiful architecture. The first time she was here she was in too much of a hurry to notice. Wade is already there to greet Ember near the steps.

"Good morning! *yawn* Fancy meeting you here." Wade teases.

Ember walks up to him, "You're not going to fall into the floor grates again are you?"

"Gasp, oh no!" Wade trips in to the grate but then pops up again, "Psych."

Ember laughs at him as the walk up the stair to the front door, "You okay? You seem a little tired?"

Wade admits, "I haven't been getting much sleep but no way was I going to miss you on your first day." Ember looks a little worried but after seeing Wade in his usually upbeat mood she relaxes. As the couple walks in the building, Wade holds the door for her of course, and then they run into Fern. Fern still looks very much bald but is just starting to barely grow some bright green grass back. Wade spots him first. "Hey Fern how are ya?"

Fern stops and looks wide eyed at Ember. Ember notices this shrinks a bit as she awkwardly waves at him, "Hey Fern, sorry again about your office."

Fern relaxes and says in his monotone voice, "It needed some pruning anyway."

Ember and Wade both look at each other and snicker at the inside joke.

Gale and Vinny meet Ember and Wade in the hall. Gale speaks first, "Hey it's my favorite fireball and Wade. Glad to have you working with us. Wade meet me in conference room 212."

Vinny then goes, "Ember follow me."

Wade just remembered and tells Ember, "Hey stop by my place after work, my mom has some news for you."

"Okay see ya."

Vinny and Ember walk down the hall then he asks her, "Did you bring extra kindling like I told you?"

"Yeah my parents wouldn't let me leave without it or an umbrella like ever."

"Ha, sounds like my mother."

As they walk into the conference room there are other Firish men there much bigger then Ember. They all turn to look at her. She feels a bit intimidated as she takes a seat. Vinny walks up to the front of the room. Already standing up there are a few Air, Earth, and Water construction workers. Vinny then speaks. "All right everyone this your safety brief before we head to the job-site so pay attention. These lessons could keep you from having a tragic accident." Ember pulls out a pad and pen ready to take notes.

One of the Firish men speaks to another, "Pfft, it's just point and fuse metal together. How hard can this be?"

At the busy job-site now. We see other construction workers mixing cement and working up on scaffolding laying bricks. Centered is a massive and loud waterfall draining off into the canals. The site has Elements of all kinds working except Fire. The group of Firish men and Ember are all walking behind Vinny.

Vinny yells so everyone can hear, "This is the job-site, we'll have three rotation shifts to keep the job going 24/7. We already have a bunch of Earth men placing the metal that needs to be welding in place." Ember and the Firish men look around but don't see the metal Vinny is talking about. Vinny turns to them and then points up over his shoulder to the giant waterfall. Just as he does an Earth man pokes through the side of the waterfall and waves. The water is hitting his shoulder but since he is made of earth it doesn't phase him at all. Ember and the Firish men nervously look up at the waterfall as Vinny asks, "Who wants to go first?" The Firish men all back away but Ember not taking her eyes off the waterfall slowly steps forward. She then looks at Vinny concerned. Vinny smiles, "Don't worry kid, I saw you taking notes, you'll be fine. This way." Vinny then remembers something and turns back around, "Oh but first..." He points over to a cauldron holding a Blue Flame. "...for good measure."

Ember is surprise and relieved to see the Blue Flame. Se walks over, takes a log to do a silent prayer, then places the log in the fire. Just as the Blue Flame burns bright so does Ember's confidence. With enthusiasm she turns back toward Vinny, "Alright let's do this!"

Later on in the day we see Wade stops by the job site for lunch. He looks up at the giant waterfall and does a fear gasps. He can tell there are multiple Firish behind the raging waterfall because their light is glowing through it as they weld the metal underneath. He knows Ember is up there too. An Earth worker steps out from the side of the falls and with his back pushing the water away. Ember sluggishly steps out from the falls with Vinny behind her. "Great job so far Ember. You're a natural at this."

She responds with a tired, "Agh." And an "OW!" As some water hits her arm.

"It's all that extra humidity that is draining your fire. Remember to eat well and try to stay away from water for the rest of the day." Just as Vinny says that last part Ember spots Wade and runs up to him giving him a hug. Vinny sees this and says with a chuckle, "Well never mind on the last part."

Wade looks super concerned at Ember, "You okay?"

Ember looks tired, "Yeah this is just a lot more work then I thought. I'm not sure I brought enough food for my lunch."

Wade whips his bag around, "Well don't worry about that, I stopped by the Fireplace and got extra kol nuts for you for your first day. I was hoping we could have lunch together?" He end with his smile.

Ember grabs his cheek with one hand and on the other cheek places a kiss. Then with a smile rests her head on his chest and with a tired sigh, "Oh thank you, you're amazing." Wade is just frozen there holding the bag with a dorky blissful grin on his face.

The pair finds a place to sit and have lunch together. Ember tells Wade that Flarry found the old Fireplace sign and that they are putting it back up soon. He and Flarriette are buying the Shop so her dad can finally retire.

Wade says, "That's great! Hey don't forget to stop by. My mom is dying to tell you the news about the glass internship."

Ember laughs, "Don't worry I won't, and thank you for the extra kol nuts, this really helped."

Wade and Ember stand up but Wade goes, "You be careful." Then hugs her "Love you."

"Love you too."

Author's Note: Pruning and mixing elements XD. On a serious note sometimes we have to learn new skills in order to improve our natural ones. Like welding for glassmaking or drawing to writing. :) New chapter next week! Also planning on posting art from this story in the next few weeks as well.

#elemental #pixar elemental #ember lumen #wade ripple #wade x ember #pixar

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inkblot-inc · 2 years ago

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Just A Few RCD HCs

Summary: These are Just some general headcanons I thought up for Jeweler!Wanda and Metalworker!Reader. Check out where it started by reading Rough Cut Diamonds

[Everything else in the RCD Universe]

Pairing: Jeweler!Wanda Maximoff x Metalworker!Reader

Warning(s): There's mention of sexy times so 18+ aka MINORS DNI, other than that none that I can think of, bud.

Note(s): Umm...I reread RCD and just thought of a few thingy things, some wholesome and not so holesome thots. I hope you enjoy :3

Word Count: somewhere close to 600 maybe bc headcanons (I just didn't check after it went past 500 m' sorry)

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit

Wanda makes time to come by often enough that your coworkers know just to send her back to your area

"Skitch! Your lady's here-" "Again!"

They're respectful dw

Lifting up your welding helmet just to see Wanda simply watching you work has been something you've become used to every Friday

Making Wanda your own little rings for her to wear

because obviously.

making lil dainty ones that can stack on top of each other and even a few full-finger rings

You yourself didn't wear a lot of jewelry, maybe a few rings and a chain

Despite that, Wanda definitely makes pieces specifically for you.

somethin like the waves ring with pietersite from Clocks and Colors or the starry night bracelet from Etah Love, that kinda vibe

it's giving silver>>>gold

You'd show Wanda how to do an efficient stick weld.

she'd definitely quick to catch on with her own experience, she really took to TIG welding as well

The glasses she usually wears don't protect enough for what you do, so you have to lend her your helmet.

You have to hold it in place from behind because it's too big on her head 🤭

Y'all for sure have more sex in the shop. 100%

Like I'm about to sound like ya'll are constantly fucking at your job and you're not~ 🙄

I can guarantee you both aren't doing the deed in respectable public more than you do in private

I'm just hyperfocusing for a sec, get off me-

I dunno why you guys don't try it at her workplace more, but somethin about the vibe of your shop specifically gets Wanda ready to jump your bones.

Like to Wanda, her place? Great. Your place? Also great. The maker's Damned??? UGHH 😩

Your back office is the prime spot no doubt-

Logan: 😑😮‍💨

Your Coworkers: 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

Your Workbench: 👀

jkjk you both aren't nearly that egregious about it, but they do tease you about it when they notice something happened in the back.

"Skitch, that's what your workspace at home is for-" "You are the literally the last person who needs to rag on me about workplace ettiquette, Remy..."

Also, something about the indents Wanda's rings leave around you neck and biceps from her grip are just-aghhh 😵‍💫

And it's too warm to be wearin' your shacket all the time so just proudly showing off all the marks Wanda leaves on you 😌

There were a few times where you were left to lock up the shop while Logan was out, and you and Wanda fucked at your main workstation...

Eh, the shop's got blinds and curtains to cover the windows-

Even then, it was only a few times

Wanda's already said she want's to be nowhere near the band saw, so...

Back to the wholesome bits-

You would actually weld a sandwich unironically.

AKA ruin a TIG welding torch trying to make a "welded cheese sandwich"

You may be a trained professional, but your survival instincts seem to be wayy down sometimes...

Hey, curiosity is the mother of invention and all that *shrugs*

Wanda won't actively participate in your shenanigans usually, but she will watch to make sure you don't hurt yourself.

You've made plenty of small metal sculpture pieces that Wanda has displayed around her place.

Looking at them and paying attention to the little details she remembers watching you put into them actually helps Wanda maintain the drive that she's kept throughout her career.

Wanda, as ambitious as she is, does have moments where she holds back some of her vision with designs that she's scrapped or held off perpetually in favor of making something reliable instead of something too "unexpected" for her to come out with.

She definitely gets in her own head about it a lot, but with a new set of eyes, your eyes on them, you encourage her to pursue them. You help not only broaden but brighten her horizons.

#marvel #marvel headcanons #rough cut diamonds #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #jeweler!wanda maximoff #metalworker!reader #jeweler!wanda maximoff x metalworker!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #rcd.headcanons #jc ink canons #ink.wanda #ib-jc.

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cookie-run-kingdom-story · 3 years ago

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Super CookieBots

(Screenshots from Royal Mike!)

Field Trip

Aloe Cookie: Try pressing that button. You can make the robot’s arms move with it! Apple Cookie: That’s SO COOL! Bell Pepper Cookie: Is it though…? I can make something cooler! Chestnut Cookie: Wow! You can make things like that? Bell Pepper Cookie: This’ll probably fly over your heads, but I can tell you everything! When I invented my PepperBot, I looked at- Pudding Cookie: LOOK! *Giggle giggle* Robot toys! Bell Pepper Cookie: And using that as reference, I was able to complete my Pepper- Hey… Where’d everyone go? Aloe Cookie: And that concludes the laboratory tour. I hope all of you had fun! Apple Cookie: This was the best field trip ever! Chestnut Cookie: It’s really awesome to meet such a famous Cookie scientist! Bell Pepper Cookie: *Tsk* I can make cooler robots... Ion Cookie Robot: Cafeteria = that way. Engaging Goodbye Protocol. Goodbye, Cookies. Pudding Cookie: Bye bye, Ion Cookie Robot! Thank you! Firecracker Cookie: Lunchtime Jellytime! WAHOO! Pancake Cookie: Psst! Hey! I saw a sign that said “Do Not Enter.” Wanna go check it out? Chestnut Cookie: But… Ion Cookie Robot said it was dangerous to wander around on our own... Pancake Cookie: C’mon! It’ll be fun! We might find a secret lab! Bell Pepper Cookie: Something bad might happen if you wander around like that! Laboratories like this can have lots of nasty and dangerous things... Bell Pepper Cookie: But I know a lot about robots, so with me around- Firecracker Cookie: Can we eat first? I’m STARVING. Apple Cookie: Yeah, let’s eat! Erm… Where’s Bell Pepper Cookie? Bell Pepper Cookie: “Aloe Cookie is so awesome.” “Aloe Cookie is so cool.” Psh… I’ll show them! Bell Pepper Cookie: Yeah, Ion Cookie Robot is pretty cool and well-made… But I can make an even cooler robot! Bell Pepper Cookie: Maybe everyone will think I’m cool too if I tell them I explored the lab all by myself! Bell Pepper Cookie: And I’ll show them that my robots are cooler than Aloe Cookie’s! Bell Pepper Cookie: Here it is! “Do Not Enter.” I think the coast is clear…! No turning back now! Bell Pepper Cookie: It’s so dark here… How deep down am I? Bell Pepper Cookie: What’s that…? It sounds like… a voice! Aloe Cookie!

Bell Pepper Cookie: Oooh! There’s really a secret lab! And I found it! Bell Pepper Cookie: It’s… a robot? What sort of robot is that? Aloe Cookie: It will all be over soon… I promise. Bell Pepper Cookie: Huh? What’s she talking about? What’ll be “over”? Aloe Cookie: You will be able to do everything you’ve ever wanted… The world will be yours. Aloe Cookie: For you, I am willing to change everything into metal… Bell Pepper Cookie: !!! Bell Pepper Cookie: No way…! Does Aloe Cookie want to make all Cookies into robots?! Bell Pepper Cookie: I can’t let her get away this*... I have to stop her! (Everyone’ll think I’m cool if I do!)

*actual text

Infiltration

Bell Pepper Cookie: I finally made it! Bell Pepper Cookie: The scans didn’t show any signs of surveillance cameras… But I’m not walking through the front door! Bell Pepper Cookie: This calls for some sneaky stealth! After all, sneak attacks are super effective! Bell Pepper Cookie: That’s a super huge wall though... Bell Pepper Cookie: PepperBot! I need your help! Can you give me a lift? Bell Pepper Cookie: It’s working! We’re getting up there. Just a bit more, PepperBot! Bell Pepper Cookie: Uh-oh...! The power’s failing?! Hang in there, PepperBot! Bell Pepper Cookie: PHEW! We made it over the wall! Bell Pepper Cookie: Excellent work, PepperBot! Bell Pepper Cookie: Next up: the secret lab! Time to show Aloe Cookie and that robot who’s boss! Bell Pepper Cookie: Wait, is that… YIKES! It’s Ion Cookie Robot! Ion Cookie Robot: Intruder alert. Intruder alert! Bell Pepper Cookie: Looks like I’ll have to get through Ion Cookie Robot first! Bell Pepper Cookie: Let’s do this! I’m not afraid of you!

Showdown: Ion Cookie Robot

Ion Cookie Robot: Engaging security protocol… Pausing at 27%. Intruder = familiar Cookie. Ion Cookie Robot: Hello, Cookie friend. Bell Pepper Cookie: Oh, erm… Good to see you again! Wait, I meant… This isn’t the time for hello’s! Bell Pepper Cookie: I’d better make a run for it while Ion Cookie Robot is distracted…! Ion Cookie Robot: Underground levels = off-limits. Stay here. Entertaining. Bell Pepper Cookie: Ooof! Get outta the way! I have an important mission! EEP! Are you trying to surround me? Bell Pepper Cookie: Go away! Stay back! Bell Pepper Cookie: Let go of me! Let… me… go…!

Ion Cookie Robot: Cookies like robots. Play with robots. Many toys. Bell Pepper Cookie: I saw those already! Put me down! Bell Pepper Cookie: GAH! PepperBot! Activate defender mode! Ion Cookie Robot: Scanning… Mechanism has increased in mass by 300%. Bell Pepper Cookie: HA! This is just the beginning! Let’s go, PepperBot! Ion Cookie Robot: ...Rerouting power for security initiative. Ion Cookie Robot: Transformation complete. All systems: optimal. Bell Pepper Cookie: OK, so that happened… We better run away! AND FAST! Ion Cookie Robot: Cookie running. Robot in pursuit.

Bell Pepper Cookie: Nononono! Go away! Ion Cookie Robot: Robot must obey protocol. Do not enter. Restricted area. Bell Pepper Cookie: Listen to me! Aloe Cookie programmed you this way, right? But she can’t be trusted! Ion Cookie Robot: Aloe Cookie = The Inventor. Creator and ally of Ion Cookie Robot. Bell Pepper Cookie: You aren’t seeing the whole picture! She’s planning something big and evil down there! Bell Pepper Cookie: GAH!? P3P-P0! HEEELP! Ion Cookie Robot: New entity detected. Scanning… New robot friend!

Bell Pepper Cookie: A perfect distraction! Time to head over to the secret lab! Bell Pepper Cookie: Finally… it’s time to face Aloe Cookie and- What’s that…? Cyborg Cookie: Who’re you?! Ya lost, kiddo? It’s not safe to wander around alone. Bell Pepper Cookie: Aloe Cookie’s evil robot?! Am I too late? Has her plan already started?

Showdown: Cyborg Cookie

Cyborg Cookie: Whoa, wait a sec… Did you just call me “evil robot”? Nuh-uh! I am… Cyborg Cookie! Bell Pepper Cookie: A Cookie! PSSH! Stop lying! You can’t fool me. You’re a robot! Cyborg Cookie: Well, yeah, when you put it that way… I mean, I’m neither a robot or a Cookie at this point so... Bell Pepper Cookie: That facial expression looks… real! Does Aloe Cookie have the technology to make robots look sad? I wonder if… NO! I can’t feel sorry for an evil robot! Cyborg Cookie: Sorry, kiddo, but whatever you’re thinking , it’s not it. I am going to have to ask you to leave. Now! Bell Pepper Cookie: OK… That’s one fast evil robot! PepperBot, got anything that can help? Bell Pepper Cookie: Just what sort of repulsor technology is that? How are you SO FAST?! Cyborg Cookie: Hey, quit running around! You’re making a mess of the lab! I promised not to make a mess here again! Cyborg Cookie: And besides! Isn’t it past your bedtime?! SCRAM! Bell Pepper Cookie: I’m going to stop you and save the world! OK, PepperBot…! NOW! Cyborg Cookie: Gotcha! Hold still ya little-

Cyborg Cookie: Uh-oh... Cyborg Cookie: Oh, that’s not good! Your robot’s hand…?! Bell Pepper Cookie: HEY! You’ll pay for that! Cyborg Cookie: Yeah, yeah, OK! I’m sorry, all right? Let me try fitting it back in the socket! It’s… not… working! Cyborg Cookie: We gotta fix this and quick! Bell Pepper Cookie: Hey! Where are you taking that?! Bring it back! Cyborg Cookie: Stay there, kiddo! Your robot will be fixed in a jiffy!

Bell Pepper Cookie: Where are you going?! OH! The secret lab is that way. Time to follow! Cyborg Cookie: ALOE COOKIE! Quick! I need your help! Bell Pepper Cookie: Give me back my robot’s hand! Aloe Cookie: I’ve been waiting for you… Bell Pepper Cookie.

Bell Pepper Cookie: How’d you know I was here? !!! Surveillance cameras?! Bell Pepper Cookie: You were… spying on me?! Bell Pepper Cookie: OK, so what now? Are you gonna defeat me and then take over the world? I don’t think so! Aloe Cookie: First things first, I think we need to repair this robot first. Shall we talk in-depth a bit later? Aloe Cookie: Cyborg Cookie. Can you bring that robot over to my workshop? Cyborg Cookie: No problem! Bell Pepper Cookie: Give me back my robot! What’re you doing?! Cyborg Cookie: Don’t worry! Aloe Cookie’s the best Cookie there is for any repair job! Trust me. Cyborg Cookie: Aloe Cookie’s such a genius that she can even turn Cookies into robots! HAHA! Bell Pepper Cookie: I knew it! I KNEW IT! You… you’re… you’re evil! Bell Pepper Cookie: Get away from my PepperBot!

Bell Pepper Cookie vs. Aloe Cookie

Bell Pepper Cookie: Wait, you’re really just… making repairs? No dismantling? No malware? Aloe Cookie: Looks like the swivel joint right here was disconnected. Aloe Cookie: With some welding and minor rewiring, it’ll be good as new. How does that sound? Bell Pepper Cookie: I erm… OK, I’ll admit that I couldn’t come up with a better idea for that part. But how’d you know that by just looking? Aloe Cookie: Upon closer inspection, the chassis is fascinating. Did you fabricate this yourself? Bell Pepper Cookie: Yes! I’m the best at robots! Aloe Cookie: I see! I observed that you seemed the most knowledgeable of all the Cookies of the field trip. Aloe Cookie: I should have told you about the cameras from the start… But I was admiring how you managed to get the upper hand against Ion Cookie Robot. Aloe Cookie: It is always a pleasure to meet a fellow scientist. Bell Pepper Cookie: Me…? DId you just call me a fellow scientist? Aloe Cookie: There. This should do the trick. Bell Pepper Cookie: PepperBot’s hand is fixed perfectly! So like… you’re not taking me prisoner or anything? Bell Pepper Cookie: (Maybe Aloe Cookie’s not an evil genius?) Cyborg Cookie: Uh… speaking of which, Aloe Cookie. The lab upstairs is a bit… messy. Cyborg Cookie: I tried to deal with our guest here quietly but... Bell Pepper Cookie: Deal with me? I knew it! Bell Pepper Cookie: You really are evildoers! Aloe Cookie! I know your secret! Aloe Cookie: Pardon? My secret? Bell Pepper Cookie: You’re going to force Cookie’s to become robots! Cyborg Cookie: That’s… Probably all my fault. Aloe Cookie: No! Cyborg Cookie, it really isn’t your fault at all. Aloe Cookie: Bell Pepper Cookie, if I may… What made you think that? Bell Pepper Cookie: I heard you in the lab! You said you’d do anything for Cyborg Cookie! Aloe Cookie: That’s... Cyborg Cookie: Aloe Cookie just wanted to help me, OK? Bell Pepper Cookie: Wait so… Cyborg Cookie is the one that’s evil? Cyborg Cookie: What? NO! I meant- ARGH! Aloe Cookie: *Hearty laugh* Allow me to explain. Aloe Cookie: Those words you heard? They were words of joy for finally completing Cyborg Cookie’s repairs. Aloe Cookie: I never wanted Cyborg Cookie to doubt either the past or what it means to be a Cookie. Bell Pepper Cookie: Wait, but real robots can’t think! Why would Cyborg Cookie think of stuff like that? Aloe Cookie: There was an accident… To live, Cyborg Cookie needed a new body of metal and restored memory chips. Aloe Cookie: The reason why I am researching robotics was born from the desire to save my friend to save Cyborg Cookie. Bell Pepper Cookie: I… I read somewhere that you didn’t start as a robotics engineer…! Bell Pepper Cookie: So… you switched to robotics, just like that? With like, no regrets?

Aloe Cookie: Switching fields was not on a mere whim. There is nothing more important than the friends we have. Bell Pepper Cookie: ...But making the best robots ever, that’s more important than a few friends thought! Aloe Cookie: The fuel for science should be your love for the Cookies around you and the world we live in. Without love, anyone can be led astray. Aloe Cookie: Inventing new tech was a difficult challenge… But I didn’t give up. I kept my friend in mind. Bell Pepper Cookie: I… I think I understand now. I’m sorry I said robots were more important than friends. And Cyborg Cookie, I’m sorry I called you evil. Cyborg Cookie: You know… You’re not so bad kiddo. Don’t let this get you down. Aloe Cookie: If there are still webs of doubt clinging onto your mind, you are free to explore the lab in its entirety. Aloe Cookie: Actually, shall I give you a tour of this section first? This laboratory is specifically tailored for Cyborg Cookie. Bell Pepper Cookie: I do! I want to see everything!

Friends

Aloe Cookie: The sun has set already? My my, how time sure does fly… Bell Pepper Cookie, perhaps you should return home. Bell Pepper Cookie: Already? But there’s still so much to see! Aloe Cookie: *Smile* As it is getting late, we shall escort you home. Aloe Cookie: You are welcome to visit the laboratory once again. In fact… You are also welcome to come and use it for your own research. Bell Pepper Cookie: It’s OK! I have my own lab! ...Can-can I really come back? Aloe Cookie: Of course! You may bring your friends as well. Bell Pepper Cookie: Nah! It’s fine… They don’t really understand this stuff… They don’t really understand… me. Cyborg Cookie: Chin up, future scientist. Give ‘em a chance. Be open and honest with your friends! Ion Cookie Robot: Cookie = leaving. Robot friend = leaving too. Aloe Cookie: Well now, look at you! Made a new friend today, Ion Cookie Robot? Cyborg Cookie: Don’t be sad. They’ll be back! Bell Pepper Cookie: They look so happy. I wonder if I can be that happy one day…?

Bell Pepper Cookie: Should I talk to them? No… Maybe… URGH! I don’t know! Bell Pepper Cookie: Even if I tell them what happened, they won’t understand! Bell Pepper Cookie: Maybe Cyborg Cookie’s right… Erm… Hey! Hello! Apple Cookie: Hi Bell Pepper Cookie! Bell Pepper Cookie: I’ve got an awesome story to share! You won’t believe where I’ve been! Pancake Cookie: OOOH! Where? Tell us! Tell us! Bell Pepper Cookie: Last night, I went to Aloe Cookie’s lab all by myself! Pudding Cookie: Oooh! What happened? Bell Pepper Cookie: I saw Aloe Cookie’s secret lab! And I fought some robots too! Bell Pepper Cookie: And Aloe Cookie called me a fellow scientist! Pancake Cookie: But why’d you go alone? I wanted to see the secret lab too! Bell Pepper Cookie: I… I thought Aloe Cookie was an evil genius who wanted to take over the world… And if I defeated her, maybe you would think I was cool and we could be friends... Chestnut Cookie: Aloe Cookie is like… a real adult. And she called you a scientist? THAT’S SO COOL! Bell Pepper Cookie: (Everyone is… having fun? Is this… Are we having fun, together? I’m actually talking to other Cookies right now!)

Apple Cookie: Tell us more, Bell Pepper Cookie! This is so much fun! Apple Cookie: We thought you didn’t like playing with us… It was hard to ask you! Bell Pepper Cookie: No, it’s not like that! I… I only cared about robots and thought you didn’t like robots so I was always thinking that you didn’t care- Chestnut Cookie: But hearing about robots from you is so awesome! Pudding Cookie: yeah! Did you get to play with the robot toys? It would’ve been so much fun all together! Bell Pepper Cookie: Oh, I have some robots at home… I have a lab in the attic. Do… do you want to see the robots I made…? Bell Pepper Cookie: Oh, but it’s like… you don’t HAVE to come if you don’t want to… It’s OK… Pudding Cookie: LET’S GO! Chestnut Cookie: That sounds awesome! Bell Pepper Cookie: Really? Pancake Cookie: I can’t wait! Firecracker Cookie: Everyone grab a rocket! Let’s fly to Bell Pepper Cookie’s house! Bell Pepper Cookie: Oh! We can all fly on PepperBot! Activate flight mode! Apple Cookie: !!! Bell Pepper Cookie’s bag is a robot! THAT’S SO COOL! Bell Pepper Cookie: Hop on, everyone! Bell Pepper Cookie: Everyone strapped in? PepperBot! Take us home!

#aloe cookie #cyborg cookie #bell pepper cookie #chestnut cookie #pancake cookie #apple cookie #firecracker cookie #pudding cookie #ion robot cookie #cookie run #cr dialogue

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twistedtummies2 · 3 years ago

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The Mad Doctor of Night Raven (Commission)

Another commission; this is from the same person who created Tock Crockwork and Caelyum in past stories. This time, we introduce another OC of theirs: Xavier Madoc, based on The Mad Doctor from Epic Mickey. This is also my first time properly writing for Idia and Ortho! :D

--------------------------------------------

“You sure this is everything you need, me hearties?”

“Nya! It better be! Some of this is heavy!” You smirked as you adjusted the box of electronic equipment in your arms. You checked on your companions, who were carrying similar boxes. To your right strolled Grim, the fire-eared, trident-tailed, cat-like imp. He was carrying a very small box - fitting for his size - while yours was more medium sized. A box matching the size of yours was in the arms of your more human comrade: a tall, slender young man with long, fuschia-colored dreadlocks, dressed all in brown. “Thanks for the help, Cael,” you said to him gratefully. Caelyum De Macabre shrugged cheerily. “Don’t mention it!” he chuckled. “For one thing, helping you get this stuff was part of my job at the Mystery Shop. Sam prides himself on having everything; if I couldn’t find something like all this, he might dock my pay.” “Would he?” you blinked. “Probably not, but he MIGHT,” huffed Cael. “And as for carrying some of this…” His smile became more bashful. “...I owe you both. If it weren’t for you all...I might not have been able to reconcile with Mia.” “How is she, by the way?” you asked, tilting your head, then smirked teasingly. “Have you proposed yet?” “Well...um...yes and no?” chuckled Cael, pausing to flick a stray dreadlock out of his face before continuing. “We had a talk about that, actually, and...we decided it would be best to wait to get married till after I finished school.” “Well, as soon as you have your wedding, make sure you guys send me and Grim an invite!” Cael nodded to say he would, then both of you paused as you heard a sort of growly groan come from Grim. “Having trouble, Little Monster?” Cael asked, tilting his own head this time. “I wish people would stop calling me that,” grumbled the imp, and continued to march onward, tail flicking angrily behind him as the blue flames in his ears crackled faintly. “I’ve got it. The Great Grim won’t be defeated by a box!” He paused, blinked, then mumbled: “That’s something I didn’t think I’d say today…” Both yourself and Caelyum snickered.

“Why’d the otaku guy ask for all this, anyway?” Cael asked as the three of you continued on. “It’s for the science expo!” Grim said. “Science expo?” frowned Caelyum. “Idia’s final exam,” you nodded, and explained: “Crowley is holding a science expo here in a couple of weeks, and Idia has to create something for it for one of his classes.” “Well...cool, but why are YOU guys getting it?” “Because the thought of leaving his room multiple times to take multiple trips nearly made Idia have a heart attack,” you answered, dryly. Cael blinked...then sighed. “Yeah,” he muttered. “From what little I’ve seen of Shroud, that sounds about right.” “I hope he appreciates the help,” huffed Grim, and bounced the box of equipment in his little arms as he continued to march forward, moving ahead of you both. “It’s not easy hauling all this from the Mystery Shop all the way Igni-YIPE!” Grim let out a shrill yelp, and fell back onto his bunce; he’d bumped into something, which hit the floor with a crash. The box full of equipment fell to the ground. Yourself and Cael quickly but carefully put down your own boxes and hurried to gather the fallen items and inspect them swiftly, while Grim growled and rubbed his sore haunches. “Nothing’s damaged,” Cael sighed with relief. “Are you alright, Grim?” you asked. “No,” pouted Grim. “My dignity is wounded, and it’s hard keeping it intact as it is.” You smirked affectionately. “Oh my gosh!” exclaimed a new voice. “Are you okay?!” The three of you looked up to see a new figure rushing towards you all. The figure was a young man, dressed in the black-and-blue, informal, leather-jacket-clad dorm costume of Ignihyde. His skin was pale, and he had moppish hair, which had been dyed mint green with blue tips. His eyes were heterochromatic, and similarly colored: one was emerald, the other cobalt. He was somewhat gangly in build, yet handsome in features. “Nya...I’m not hurt, if that’s what you mean,” Grim muttered out, stumbling back onto his hindpaws and dusting off his fur. “I wasn’t talking to you!” the young man snapped, catching Grim off-guard...then knelt down to what Grim had bumped into. “Abe! Abe, are you okay?” The figured Grim had bumped into, you soon realized, was a robot. It was dressed like a porter, and - in contrast to the synthetic skin and almost fully human appearance of Ortho Shroud - had a decidedly mechanical, industrial look: all metal plates and gear-twisting joints. Its face was mask-like, with two yellow lamps for eyes. The robot shook its head with a whirring noise, as if to clear it, then the mute bot - it had no mouth - nodded to the young Ignihyde student. The mint-eyed boy sighed with relief, and smiled at the bot as if it were an old friend, patting its shoulder. Then, he glared at Grim almost childishly. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?!” the lad snapped. “Me?!” snapped Grim, stomping one foot angrily, ear-fire flaring up. “Your stupid robot was the one who bumped into me!” The green-and-blue-haired youth gasped, looking deeply offended, and hugged Abe close. “Don’t listen to the mean little raccoon, Abe,” he crooned to the bot, stroking the back of its head like it was his child. “You’re perfect just the way you are.” “I AM NOT A RACCOON!” screamed Grim. “I don’t even LOOK like one; why does everyone keep calling me that?!” The student from Ignihyde was too busy fawning over his robot like it was a spoiled child to answer. The robot squirmed, its yellow eyes flickering; you got the feeling that if a machine had the power to blush, Abe would have been doing so from all the attention. Grim pouted and grumbled while yourself and Caelyum stepped closer to address the newcomer, who helped the robot to its feet. The machine called Abe clattered and clanked a bit as the young man pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket and began to check over the mechanical wonder’s form. “Buddy, I keep telling you, you have to make sure to look both ways,” whispered the young scientist. “Maybe some of your circuits need rewiring; it’s like your memory bank has a hole or two in it somewhere. Tch. My fault for using-” “Excuse me,” you spoke up. “Who are you?” The Ignihyde student looked to you...then smiled. “Oh, hey there!” he said, waving with the hand that held the screwdriver. “Name’s Xavier. Xavier Madoc, if you, ah, wanna get all formal and stuff, heh. I’m a, uh, first year here in the dorm. I was just taking my buddy Abe here for a tour around the campus!” He patted his robot’s back; Abe stumbled forward, and rubbed his arm, looking a little nervous as he nodded to you in greeting. Sensing the AI’s anxiety, you gave a disarming smile of your own and bowed your head in return. This seemed to make Abe perk up a bit. “Nice to meet you both,” you said. “Speak for yourself,” mumbled Grim. “Hey, not Abe’s fault you’re an imperfect specimen of biology,” frowned Xavier. Before either yourself or Grim could point out Abe was clearly not a perfect machine, either, Xavier’s eyes lit up with recognition as he noticed the other member of the party. “Oh, it’s you again! Kale, yeah?” “Cael,” De Macabre corrected, with a mild smile. “Is this your presentation for the science expo?” “Pffft! Oh-ho, yeah, like...c’mon. Making artificial life? That’s, like, SO twenty years ago,” Xavier snorted. “Nope! I’ve got somethin’ a whole lot bigger in mind! It’s gonna REALLY put me on the map!” “After how much all those parts cost you, I should hope so,” mumbled Caelyum. “Hold on, back up,” you said, giving a “time out” gesture. “The two of you know each other?” “Only peripherally,” admitted the shopkeeper’s aid. “Just like you guys, I helped Xavier pick out some items for his project.”

“Cool,” you commented. “They work perfectly, by the way!” Xavier butted in, and then giddlily clapped his hands. “Ohhhh, this is gonna Rock. The. World. Like, if there was a world, and my new invention could hold it, it would just…” He made explosive noises as he mimed shaking something in his hands, then puffed them out with a long, whining “Aaaaaah!” noise. “...That would be it,” he declared, grinning from ear to ear. “Nothing is gonna top this one, nothing!” “Well, you seem pretty confident,” you chuckled. “Trust me, if there’s one thing I know...well, actually, I know, like, a lot of things, I guess?” Xavier frowned, turning his eyes heavenward as he counted on his fingers. “I mean, there’s, like mechanical engineering, alchemy, anatomy, welding, potion making, computer science...basically, yeah, if there’s one thing I can do, it’s how to make something awesome. With SCIENCE!” The last word was spoken with great melodrama, complete with Xavier lifting one hand theatrically, throwing his head back with pride and puffing out his chest arrogantly. Abe seemed to roll his eyes at his creator’s hammy attitude. “I wouldn’t get too cocky,” Cael said warningly, as he stepped back to lift his box up off the floor. “Yeah! Especially with all this to contend with,” Grim grinned a little smugly, picking his own box back up as well. Xavier frowned as he saw you lift the third and final box, now looking both curious and perhaps borderline suspicious. “Yeah, about that...what’s with all the toys?” he said, pointing to the box with a slight frown, as if the items within were beneath him. “Is there, like, a kid entering the expo, or are you cleaning out trash…?” You blinked, and the three in your party shared looks. The strange part about that comment was it didn’t sound like it was meant to be an insult. Xavier seriously seemed to see the tools in the boxes as inferior. “These are for Idia. Your dorm head,” you said, slowly. Xavier’s eyes widened, and so did his smile. “Oh! Oh, COOL! So, wait, holdupholdupholdup...you’re saying Idia Shroud - THE Idia Shroud - is gonna come outta his hideout and tussle with the muscle at the contest?” “That’s...one way of putting it, yep,” you answered unsteadily. “That’s TERRIFIC!” Xavier exclaimed, clapping his hands and bouncing on his heels with giddy delight. Abe tilted his head with curiosity, and Xavier, noticing the robot’s reaction, decided to explain. “When I beat Idia, that’ll be, like, the best thing ever!” Madoc told Abe. “I can finally show just how perfect and brilliant my machines are! Abe, it’s gonna be DA BOMB! HA HA HA!” Xavier cackled with almost unhinged delight, pumping his fists. Abe turned his lamplike eyes towards your group. You see what I have to put up with? he seemed to be saying. “Be wary,” Caelyum warned. “You shouldn’t underestimate Shroud: he’s dorm head for a reason. He literally made his own brother, you know; have you made anything that impressive before?” Xavier looked to Cael...and his smile fell. A sudden coldness came over his expression, and his eyes narrowed. “Are you saying my machines aren’t impressive?” he whispered, his voice lowering an octave. “No, I don’t think he’s saying that at all!” you interrupted, sensing the tension and wanting to cut it short. “Just...um...Idia’s not half bad either, you know.” Xavier smirked, but his eyes were still glittering like emerald daggers. “Hmph. He may be dorm head, but he’s got nothing on The Madoc,” Xavier boasted, jabbing a thumb at himself...then, his eyes brightened, and his whole being became exuberant once more. “Hey! Hey, you should totally come see the expo! All of you! That’d be great!” “Then we could see you win, huh?” you smirked right back, already sensing his thoughts. “Well...or see the others lose,” he said with a sinister laugh. “Your choice of how you wanna word it.” “Nya...that seems a jerky way to put it,” grumbled Grim, but no one paid attention to him. “Well, Crowley is probably gonna ask us to do something there anyways, with his track record,” you muttered. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw you there.” “Perfect,” smiled Xavier, then cocked his head innocently. “Uh...right, I, ah...yeah, just realized I never got who YOU were?” You gave your name quickly. “I’m Prefect of the Ramshackle Dorm,” you explained, and pointed to Grim. “This is Grim.” “Aww...nice that your dorm allows pets.” Grim looked like he was pondering the many ways he coil make life excruciatingly painful for Xavier Madoc. “Why do you say that?” Cael spoke up. “Does yours not?” “Honestly, I dunno,” shrugged Xavier. “I’ve never had a pet. Never wanted one, really.” He tapped Abe on the chest; the robot - who had been staring off at something on a wall - jumped at the clanking on his abdomen. “I just deal with machines,” he said. “Pets are so...fussy. And unpredictable. You have to feed them and clean up their mess...my machines are clean and easy to handle. A machine can’t leave you or get sick; if there’s a malfunction, just a touch of oil or a twist of a wrench, and it’s all fixed, usually! And, hey, if something breaks, I can just rebuild it!” Abe looked hurt. “Oh, not you, buddy,” Xavier chuckled, patting his metal shoulder. “You’re irreplaceable.” Abe seemed to smile, but since he had no visible lips, you couldn’t tell. “I think it’s a good thing to have pets,” Caelyum argued, then gave a joking smile. “Maybe you should buy a lab rat or something?” Xavier shuddered. “Right, and be around animals AND people? Thanks, I think I’ll pass.” “And you were teasing Idia about leaving HIS hideout?” Grim taunted. Xavier glared at him. “I’m not scared of people,” he protested. “I just...don’t like crowds. I don’t like most people, either.” “You seem to be chatting easily with us,” you observed. “Well...yeah, but…no offense, I’m not gonna be inviting you to my lab anytime soon,” Xavier smiled weakly. “I like my privacy, that’s all.” You weren’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Speaking of,” Xavier went on, without waiting to see if you WOULD respond, “I gotta get back to work: I’ve gotta work out some clibrations for my new invention, then maybe see about modifying Abe’s storage banks, not to mention figuring out a few blueprints for future projects…” “Jeeze, don’t you do anything fun?!” Grim exclaimed. “Science IS fun,” huffed Xavier, sticking his nose up snootily. “And I don’t see a reason to stand here and be insulted by a furball.” While Grim sputtered, offended, Xavier looked to Abe. “Come, my friend!” he called out, theatrically. “Back to the laboratory!” Abe saluted, and he and his creator turned on their heels before marching away. The metallic footsteps of the robot echoed down the hall for several seconds after they vanished from sight. “I don’t like him,” grumbled Grim. “We gathered that,” Caelyum smirked. “He seems...eccentric,” you murmured, then shook your head. “Then again, I guess it’d be hard to find anybody at this school who ISN’T at least a little bit odd.” “He seemed like a good sort to me,” Cael nodded, then frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps a bit too sure of himself for his own good...not to mention a little too antisocial…” “Hey, I’ve dealt with Idia; trust me, that was nothing on the antisocial level,” you scoffed, as the three of you went down a side passage and headed off to find Idia’s room. “That’s not quite what I mean,” mumbled Caelyum, and then went on, aloud. “You know the donation jar at the Mystery Shop?” “You mean for the Medical Center?” “Yeah,” Cael said. “He didn’t donate anything. That’s not surprising, I guess, and it wouldn’t have really bothered me at all - donations from customers are hit and miss, always - but when I asked him if he’d like to make a donation, his response was…unsettling.” “Nya?” Grim meowed, one ear flicking with curiosity. “And what did he say?” “He said, ‘Sorry, but there are too many people out there to worry about the sick ones.’” You blinked...then scowled. “Okay...that’s...not very nice...and a little confusing,” you murmured. “Yeah,” Caelyum said. “The weirdest part was he then started rambling about the machines in the Medical Center. He seemed more interested in how the machines worked than what they actually did to help people.” You glanced back over your shoulder. Now, you were starting to feel worried. A person that strange, that obsessed, and that sure of his own superiority… ...Suddenly, Xavier’s eccentricities were starting to take a more sinister undercurrent. “Let’s just forget about him,” snorted Grim. “Come on, the scaredy-cat’s waiting!” “Right,” you muttered, then shook your head to clear it, and picked up the pace, this time taking the lead yourself. “Come on, you two...if Idia’s going to have any shot at that science expo - Madoc or no Madoc - he’ll need these parts.’

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Several weeks later, the science expo at Night Raven College commenced. Various students from across the campus were readying their inventions and projects. You had been right, of course: the Headmaster had, indeed, demanded that you attend the expo. As custodians, your job was to help those preparing their experiments, and to clean up any messes that might come up. By some miracle, not a drop of an acid, nor a bit of any base, had yet to stain the floor, and nothing solid had broken. Of course, that could change at any time, so yourself and Grim wandered around the expo, peeking at different experiments on display. A lot of what was being shown you didn’t fully understand - science had never been your strongest point - and, truth be told, the majority of the students involved were not ones you knew personally. There were, however, two familiar faces you were hoping to see. “Nya...where are the Shrouds?” meowed Grim, flicking his tail from side to side and blinking his big blue-green eyes up at you. “Shouldn’t Idia and Ortho have set up their panel already.” “Yeah, they should have,” you nodded. “Maybe they just didn’t get things ready in time?” “Not the way I heard it.” The voice caught your attention, and both yourself and Grim smiled as you saw who it belonged to. “Oh, Cael! So you came here after all, huh?” you grinned. “Yup. I actually invited Mia, but she couldn’t make it; some kind of royal business,” the shopkeeper’s assistant shrugged. “I wanted to see how the items Sam and I sold were being used, so I asked him if I could get out of my job at the Mystery Shop a few hours early to check things out.” “I see. I’m sorry to hear Mia couldn’t make it,” you said, sympathetically. Caelyum smiled gently. “For years I lived without her,” he said, faintly. “Even if we’re not together, my heart will always be with her...and hers with mine…” “Ugh...gag me,” sneered Grim. “You don’t have to make it sound so dramatic, you know; you’re a bigger ham than the guys at Pomefiore!” Cael blushed and you giggled. “Anyway...Ortho told me he and Idia had finished their work,” Caelyum informed you and the imp. “They actually have it stored here at the hall, since they felt that would make it easier for transport and setup.” “That’s strange, then. Even Idia usually isn’t late for these things,” you murmured, looking a little concerned. “He’s not?” Cael asked, curiously. “I would have thought, with his reputation, he would try his hardest to avoid them.” “Well, Idia usually has Ortho attend the Dorm Leader Meetings - and other events - and then uses his computer to do a voice stream from his room,” you explained. “That way he can make his presentations without having to face the crowds directly. There should be no reason for at least one of them to not be-” “Excuse me! Pardon me! Coming through! Thank you!” “Idon’twannagoIdon’twannagoIdon’twannagohelphelphelp…!” Grim turned around fast at the sound of the familiar voices, and tugged on your leg, pointing in the direction they were coming from. Both you and Cael quickly looked in the direction he had indicated, and saw the crowd of students and helpful staff members parting… ...Revealing the form of Ortho Shroud, who all but skipped merrily along through the campus convention hall where the expo was being held, dragging along what looked like an enormous black-and-blue bag. You quickly realized the “enormous bag” was really Idia Shroud, who was lying belly down on the floor. His dead-white hands were holding up his hoodie in a steel-knuckled grip, while his glowing blue, ethereal hair spilled across the floor from under it. Ortho noticed your group soon enough; his cybernetic eyes widened, and he waved, trotting over to three of you. You looked to Caelyum, who was staring bug-eyed, stunned by the bizarre tableaux. You had to admit, it said something that, somehow, you were a lot less weirded out. “Hi ya, Prefect!” Ortho chirped in his electronic way, as he stopped a few feet away from your trio. You could see that, now at a standstill, Idia was shaking like a leaf. “Uhhhh...hi,” you greeted awkwardly. “Nya! Why are you two so late?” Grim grimaced. “And what exactly is going on?” Cael asked, sounding like he was trying not to shout that out in confusion. “Oh! Well, um, Big Brother’s thingamajig that he uses for remote conference? It, uh...kinda had a malfunction,” Ortho said, an embarrassed smile flickering behind the mask-like apparatus on his android face. “Malfunction?” the three of you repeated, looking at each other, and then back at Ortho. “Yeah,” Ortho said, and scratched the back of his head. “My brother convinced a stray cat into our room so he could give it some food...but when he tried to snuggle it, it bolted back out the window, and knocked the device off a table and onto the floor. We...didn’t have time to fix it.” A keening whine from Idia made it hard from you to determine if you should laugh or just feel sorry for the poor, anxious noble son. “Yeesh...and that’s what all this is about, huh?” “Yep!” Ortho siad, cheerily. “Big Brother still has to attend his final for the class, after all! So I made sure to get him here with enough time to set up shop!” Ortho’s chest was puffed out with pride; you swore, if he had a tail, it would have been wagging like a puppy’s. You couldn’t help but smile, even as Grim and Cael both rolled their eyes, crossing their arms over their chests. “Well, good job, Ortho; that’s being responsible!” you said, and playfully patted the boy-like droid’s head; you would never understand how that fire-like hair DIDN’T burn your fingers, but no matter. “I’m sure once he’s done having a panic attack, he’ll be proud of you.” Ortho giggled happily and his eyes crinkled with another sweet “smile.” You now turned your attention to Idia, as Ortho released his leg. The instant, Idia felt his leg being let go, he stopped shaking and froze. Slowly, he rolled onto his back...and huge amber yellow eyes, glowing like warning lights, peered out from behind the hoodie. Idia took one look at the crowd in the hall, and the faces looking at him...and squeaked like a mouse before hiding his face. He clumsily tried to get to his feet and run away...only to let out a shrill, strangled sound as he tripped on his own feet and fell over. Ortho let out an “eep!” and rushed to catch hold of his brother before the computer genius could eat tile. “Nervous, Idia?” Grim drawled with a smirk. Cael couldn’t help but chuckle as Idia whimpered with terror, quivering once again. “P-People,” came Idia’s voice behind his hood. “Too...t-too many people...please...t-take me back to my room...I-I’d rather watch the English dubbing of Ghost Stories than do this…heck, I’d rather play Iron Gear: Survive than be here...!” “Not till you finish your presentation,” Ortho said. “Come on, Big Brother! Show everybody how cool you are!” “I don’t wanna be cool!” Idia nearly sobbed. “Please, not this! Not…” He gulped and nearly choked on the next words. “...T-Talking to people...having them judge me...no, no, not that…” Idia shook his head behind his hood stubbornly. Ortho looked at you helplessly. You sighed and knelt down to Idia’s level. You cautiously reached out to the trembling socially anxious scientist, who whimpered as he felt your hands brush against him, and curled up tightly, as if afraid of being struck. With a sympathetic smile, you carefully parted his hands and pulled down his hood. His face now fully exposed to the outside world, Idia blinked his giant yellow eyes at you with real fear. His dark lips were trembling, and you swore those golden irises were getting a little misty as he looked on the verge of crying with fear. You could hear his shark-like teeth chattering as if winter had come early that year. “Idia,” you said softly, “It’s got to be done, and you’re the only one who can do it.” “Why is that?” peeped Idia, childishly. “Because it’s YOUR creation, Idia,” you said, with an encouraging smile. “No one knows it better than you do.” “Yeah! It’s not like we can talk about all this science-y junk!” Grim broke in...then subsided when Idia reacted by looking hurt, while Ortho gave him an almost murderous glare. “The presentation only has to be a few minutes long,” Cael thought to put in helpfully. “A few SECONDS is too much!” Idia said, and hurried to try and hide his face again...but you prevented it with your hands as you carefully held his wrists. His black-nailed fingers twitched with mortal dread as he looked into your earnest, honest eyes. “Idia, does Ortho know anything about the project?” “Well...n-no, not enough to tell them everything,” Idia admitted, squirming uncomfortably and almost guiltily, like a child admitting he’d stolen five cookies from the cookie jar. “Is there anybody else who could give the presentation on your behalf, with the knowledge you have?” Idia blinked. Those last few words seemed to have stirred something in his breast, and he looked at you anew, blinking a few times, as realization dawned on his pale face. “...No...I guess not,” he said, softly. “Well then?” you urged, tenderly, raising one eyebrow. Idia bit his lip; his sharp teeth almost drew blood. (Almost.) “...But...b-but I’m scared,” he cheeped out, like a wounded baby bird. It took all your willpower not to kiss his forehead. How could a denizen of the Underworld be so friggin’ cute?! “It’s okay to be scared,” you assured him. “Being brave means doing things even though you are scared.” “No, being brave means enduring unpleasant situations without showing fear,” Idia droned. “That’s literally in the dictionary.” “And how brave do you think the Lord of the Underworld was when he fought the Mighty Hercules?” “A lot braver than I am!” Idia replied, without missing a beat, and promptly hid his face again, rolling onto his side, like a child refusing to get out of bed. “I’m not doing it!” You bit your own lip, and looked around awkwardly. A LOT of people were staring, and that was only going to make Idia feel worse. You had to pacify this quickly. “Mr. Shroud.” You blinked up at Caelyum, who knelt down beside you with a reassuring smile of his own. Idia peeked out of his hoodie timidly. “Wh-What?” “Once this is over, I’d be happy to give you a free Jumbo Jar of Jelly Babies from the Mystery Shop as a reward for your efforts,” Cael offered. Idia’s eyes went wide at the mention of so much candy. “...F-Free?” “Yes,” Cael nodded. “I’ll just put my own money back into the shop to make up the expense. BUT,” he said, in a stern, almost parental tone, holding up one finger, “You have to at least try to make your presentation first.” Idia licked his lips, but he still looked uncertain. “...What if they don’t like my creation, though?” he whispered, shivering a little. “They’ll love it, Big Brother!” Ortho declared. “It’s the best thing ever! You’re so smart, it has to be!” “And all three of us,” you thought to add, “Will be there. Myself, Cael, and Grim: we’ll be watching and cheering you on.” Idia squirmed again. “...The watching part I could live without, but…” Finally, at long last...he gave a scared, small, hesitant smile. “...The cheering part...I-I’d appreciate it,” he chuckled, and seemed to perk up a bit. “And, h-hey...I get lots of candy out of it, yeah?” “Sugary gummies galore,” winked Caelyum. Idia paused once more, and took a deep breath, before finally relenting: “F-Fine...I’ll...I’ll try not to screw up...” “That’s the spirit, Brother!” cheered Ortho joyously, and helped Idia to his feet. Idia gave a nervous nod to his brother, then gave you a shy wave and a smile that showed just a hint of his pointed teeth, as the young android led him away to another part of the hall. Both yourself and Caelyum stood to your full heights and sighed with relief. “Sam’s gonna kill me,” he mumbled. “He gets pretty strict with inventory; I think it’s the con-man in him…” “Just don’t make a deal with him, and you’ll be fine,” Grim giggled. “You know, maybe another incentive we could have used was a chance for ‘snuggle time’ with a certain ‘Little Monster,’” you said, airily, giving Grim a teasing smile. The cat-like little beast blushed bright red, and his ears flared up. “Th-That’s not funny, Minion!” he snapped, huffishly, while Cael chortled merrily at the thought. Just then, another laugh was heard from the far end of the hall; you recognized it instantly. “Xavier?” you murmured, remembering the strange scientist from a few weeks ago. “Sounds like the judging has begun,” Caelyum remarked, as he noticed a group of official-looking gentlemen, along with some students, gathered in the area. “Nya! Let’s go see what’s up!” Grim suggested, and loped off on all fours to do exactly that. You and Caelyum shrugged to each other, and followed at a casual pace. You soon came to the panel hosted by Xavier. To one side stood Abe, who had traded out his porter’s costume for a buttoned-up labcoat...although, amusing, he still wore his porter’s cap upon his head. The mechanical man’s mask-like, expressionless, featureless face somehow still managed to look rather bashful as he waved shyly at the mob that now surrounded the corner spot. It was Xavier Madoc himself, however, who most arrested your attention. He stood in front of a table, over which was draped a light gray table cloth...and on top of that was a large, oddly-shaped...something. No one could tell what, exactly, for a second tablecloth - also colored gray - was covering it. Xavier was dressed in a long labcoat, which stretched past his knees and halfway down his shins. Underneath this, the eccentric inventor wore blue jeans and white tennis shoes; the former was held up by a peculiar teal-colored belt. A light gray midriff shirt, with black pinstripes, was perhaps the weirdest part of his ensemble; emblazoned on his chest, upon this shirt, was an unusual design: a black-stenciled image that, on one side, resembled a skull, while the other side resembled a clockwork gear, the two parts meshed together unsettlingly. With his wild, wide grin and the way he bowed to the crowd - more like a circus ringmaster than a distinguished scholar - one couldn’t help but find him a most uncommon figure. “Ladies and gentlemen...and undecided!” he greeted, and laughed at his own joke (no one else did, but he didn’t seem to care) before continuing: “Allow me to introduce myself: I am Xavier Madoc! Also, allow me to introduce my trusty counterpart, Abe! His name stands for Assistant Bot Extraordinaire. Yeah, ha, not the most, uh...SCIENTIFIC name I could’ve come up with, but what can I say? I liked the acronym.” Abe rolled his electronic eyes and nodded to the judges, who nodded back before refocusing on Xavier, who rubbed his eyes as he moved to the opposite side of the table from Abe. “Friends and colleagues of science, let us talk about emotions, shall we?” he began, still speaking in an almost carnival-esque tone of voice, which made Cael roll his eyes and scoff. “He sounds almost like Sam at times,” the Swamplands native mumbled. You and Grim smiled at him, then looked back at Xavier as he began his spiel. “Emotions are a fickle thing,” Madoc said, lifting a finger in emphasis. “Emotions can be our strength, but they can also be our weakness. What a beautiful world it would be if we could all be logical, without those...pesky things like jealousy or greed to spur us in the wrong direction. Even here, in a school of black magic, love is just as revered as vengeance. There is a reason, of course...two, really. One, I would argue, is human frailty. We cannot help ourselves; we are, very tragically, made to be feeling creatures more often than thinkers. But another is perhaps more practical, in this particular world...and that, my friends, is that we need it as fuel. Magic is a powerful entity in our world, arguably more than science, and while it is not uncommon for the two to mesh together, no one has found a way to properly harness the power of the human spirit that allows our magic to work. Well, my friends...I, Xavier Madoc, have found the solution to that quandary!” So saying, Xavier through out both arms in a grand gesture and sang out: “TA-DA!” Silence. Nothing happened. The judges and the crowd just stared at Xavier awkwardly. Xavier blinked, then looked to Abe, who was looking around the room blithely. He frowned and whistled, getting the droid’s attention. “Abe,” he said, and pointed to the table. “You’ll want to take off the tablecloth on that cue, ‘kay, buddy?” Abe nodded, and scooted closer to the table. “Thank you,” whispered Xavier, and tried again, louder: “TA-DA!” A horrible grinding sound was heard as Abe grabbed the tablecloth on the table, nearly knocking over the item under the second veil as he gave it a tug. Xavier yelped for him to stop, and swooped in just in time to right the object before it could crash to the floor. You forced yourself not to laugh; Grim and Caelyum were not inclined to do the same. “So much for ‘the perfection of machines,’ huh?” the fluffy little imp whispered. “Hush!” you scolded...but internally, you conceded he had a point. Abe shuffled sheepishly as Xavier brushed his mint-and-cerulean bangs from his face and gave him an impatient, toothy smile. The dark doctor-in-training could hear some of the crowd snickering, and he hated it. “Not THAT tablecloth,” he said through clenched teeth, and pointed to the device under the covering. “THIS tablecloth. Got it?” Abe nodded, looking like a scared child. “Thank you,” Xavier sighed in frustration, and took a deep breath before trying one more time: “TA-DA!” Finally, Abe swirled off the right tablecloth with great panache. Underneath it was unveiled a strange machine, about the size and shape of the average backpack. Most of it was covered in white leather, but several mechanical apparatuses were jutting from it. Among these were two large copper tanks on either side, several steel cylinders, and two long tubes of tough, transparent rubber, which led from one of the sets of caps into the copper tanks. Two beige-colored leather straps were attached, and it was into these straps that Xavier slipped his long, lanky arms, putting the strange pack on his back. “Introducing my newest invention!” Xavier declared with a beaming, proud smile. “The Emotion Reservoir Power Converter - or ERPC, if you want to shorten it. We can’t all have cool acronyms like Abe, heh...ANYWAY! I would argue that negative emotions have more importance here than positive ones: Blot is the result of an overabundance of black magic use, and much of dark wizardry involves the channeling of negative power. The ERPC can drain small doses of negative emotional energy directly from the subject, and then convert them into magical energy, without the user suffering a state of Overblot!” “Can you give us a demonstration?” one of the judges spoke up. He was a portly man, with spectacles perched upon a crooked nose. “I hoped you would ask that, Dr. Alcott,” Xavier answered with a Devil-May-Care wink, then looked to his robotic companion. “Abe? The book, please!” The robot nodded, and reached into the folds of his labcoat, before handing his creator a small book with a bright pink cover. On it was the title “Princess Pony and the Island of Fluffy Squirrels,” by Lorina Faustus. Xavier blushed bright red and swatted at Abe, who hurriedly put the book away while giggles and chuckles once again came from the audience. “I told you not to…! THE OTHER BOOK, ABE!” Abe quickly fished a second book out: this was a black leatherbound volume with the image of a galaxy festooning its front. Xavier took it and sighed, shaking his head before flipping to a bookmarked page. “Here,” he declared, pointing at the page in question and tapping it with a finger, “Is an excellent example. Keep in mind, gentlemen and ladies, I am but a first year here. The spell I’m about to perform is typically a fourth-year level spell, and I have taken no classes on the subject. Should you wish for confirmation of this later, simply consult the members of the staff on standby today.” Xavier thus cleared his throat, and lifted one hand, extending his thin fingers towards the ceiling before mumbling the incantation in the book. He closed his eyes, furrowing his brow and gritting his teeth, trying to concentrate...his fingers clawed as he flexed them, arm trembling as he forced all the power he could muster into his spellcasting… A dim, murky cloud of purple - shapeless and formless - hovered over the heads of the judges. Specks and blotches of many hues, like splatters of watercolor on a half-burned piece of parchment, appeared and disappeared...before, finally, Xavier gasped and relinquished the attempt, and the colors all faded, the cloud dissipating in an instant. “Haaaaah...a-as you can...ahem...as you can s-see,” Xavier gasped out, wiping some sweat from his brow. “That was hardly an easy task, gentleman...and hardly a good demonstration of that spell. Thankfully, my new invention can allow me to ‘upgrade’ my abilities, through use of my Unique Magic…” He lifted his left hand, the one that he had first used to try and enact the spell, and flexed his fingers as he recited his magic words. “...Paint & Thinner.” There was a flash of turquoise-toned light...and suddenly, Xavier’s left arm had undergone a startling and somewhat disquieting transformation. The fingers and thumb of his left hand had turned into a set of what looked like syringes, the needles resembling claws, his whole hand now seemingly mechanical and metallic. “My power,” Xavier smirked, flexing his taloned hand, “Allows me to extract emotion from a person. This is the ‘Thinner’ part of the equation. The emotional energy is converted to a liquid state. I can, of course, also return the emotions to their original owners, in a gaseous state: this is the ‘Paint’ aspect. Now, I know this is, uh...you know...a little freaky, but...I’m going to need a volunteer.” He handed the spellbook to Abe and added: “My assistant doesn’t exactly have veins to target.” Naturally, at first, nobody stepped forward. Xavier’s expression shifted, and he started to seem crestfallen, perhaps even a little scared… You sighed, shook your head, and stepped closer, raising one arm. “I volunteer,” you said. Xavier grinned, and nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Prefect,” he said, and addressed the audience as - with the clinical care of a master surgeon - he pulled you closer by one arm. “Everyone watch closely, please.” He then looked back at you; his voice was the professional, bland calm of a medical expert as he said the timeless refrain: “This won’t hurt a bit.” The syringes were inserted into your arm. You closed your eyes, trying to relax, remembering all the injections you had gotten. You did not feel the slightest prick as they did their work, and soon, bright green fluid - the color of some toxic acid - was drawn from your very body into the syringe fingers. “Sit down,” whispered Xavier, in the same clinical, almost cold tone, easing you into a nearby chair which Abe had prepared. His actions seemed more dismissive than in the vein of proper bedside manners. You sank into it gratefully. You felt...lightheaded. Cold. Almost ill. You didn’t know it at the time, but before the congregation of onlookers, your skin had suddenly turned very, very pale, and your hair and eyes had lost all color. Even your clothes seemed to have become more faded, causing you to look like a monochrome character from a black-and-white movie. You hoped the sickening, hollow sensation inside you wouldn’t last long as Xavier turned to the audience again. “Generally speaking, draining the emotion from the victim will leave them feeling weakened; enough power drawn can lead to them being rendered unconscious. My machine allows me to withdraw more than I would usually be able to manage in a single dose without even touching the subject, should I wish...but for safety purposes, I think we had better focus on the OUTPUT demonstration. Observe…” He closed his eyes...and suddenly, the syringes emptied, as if the power was being drawn through his arm and into his core...then, the same green fluid bubbled through the pipes, and a slosh came from the copper tanks as your emotions filled them with liquid energy. “Now,” said Xavier, and waved a hand for Abe to open the book and show him the page, as his syringe hand lifted to the ceiling. “Let’s see if the emotional energy I’ve drained from my volunteer can be converted to enough magical power, via the ERPC, for the spell I attempted earlier. Remember, everybody: first year here…” Once again, Xavier lifted his hand to the ceiling...and this time, as he spoke the incantation, the purple cloud became a beautiful circle of deep indigo, revealing the boundless reaches of outer space. Splashes of color became perfect images of planets and stars, so real in appearance one swore they could touch them. In fact, one student DID try to touch one...and yelped, as the sun actually burnt their finger slightly. “Careful,” chuckled Xavier, and then flexed his fingers...and the beautiful image disappeared. He then turned to the judges and, without a word, bowed. He had rested his case. The judges seemed most impressed. Dr. Alcott and the others applauded and smiled, looking quite pleased. However, they had other presentations to attend to, and after a few more perfunctory questions, they moved on. As the judges moved on, and the crowd went with them, Xavier looked two, kneeling down to look at your face. You felt dizzy and queasy, and the look on his face indicated he could tell. He extended his fingers. “Breathe normally,” he instructed, and a faint blue mist poured from the needle like fingers...and you sighed as you felt the ill feeling go away. Steadily, the color flooded back into your being at the same time. “Oh, dear Gods...wh-what was that?” “That was what it was like to be drained of emotional energy,” Xavier said, and gave an anxious sort of smile. “Pretty icky, huh?” “You said it,” you grumbled. “That was a bold decision, Prefect,” Cael observed, as Grim nodded in agreement. Both he and the imp looked rather concerned; they had lingered behind to check on you. Abe placed a mute hand upon your shoulder. You glanced up briefly at the featureless mechanical man, then smiled weakly back at your friends. “Well, he needed someone...who else would have done it?” you reasoned, then shuddered. “I really don’t like needles though…” “Not my fault it’s how my power works,” chuckled Xavier, but obligingly lifted his hand and spoke the counter-curse: “Thinner & Paint.” Another flash of blue-green light, and his hand returned to normal. He gave it a shake, then extended it to you. “Thank you for the help,” he said, sincerely. “Gotta admit, I didn’t expect anybody to put their best foot forward for me like that…” “I’m glad I could start a new custom,” you said, and shook his hand before shakily standing up. “I still don’t feel quite ready for work though…” “Give it a couple short minutes, and it’ll wear off on its own,” Xavier said sweetly. Just then, more applause came...louder than before. The four of you looked; Xavier frowned and the rest of you perked up as you realized who the next contender was… “The Shrouds!” exclaimed Grim. “Let’s see what they are up to,” suggested Cael. “Right,” you nodded, then smiled at Xavier. “Really cool invention. I hope you win!” Xavier’s eyes widened as he looked back at you, seemingly taken aback by the compliment and well-wishes...then smiled awkwardly. “Heh...uh...th-thanks, um...enjoy the rest of the expo. I mean, no one else is gonna be as awesome, but...you know…” You just laughed, and joined your friends, giving Xavier a wave as you strolled towards the Shrouds’ panel. You never noticed how Xavier’s smile faded into a cold, almost lifeless expression behind you while your back turned away. “No one else is gonna be as awesome,” he whispered to himself, forebodingly. Unaware of the ominous moment that had passed, your gaggle descended with the rest of the onlookers to see what the Head of Ignihyde and his “Baby Brother” had in store. Said “Baby Brother” was brushing humming in a vocoded-sounding way (he WAS an android, after all) as he brushed down a machine on the table. The device was not hidden by anything, the way Xavier’s power pack had been, which meant you and all and sundry could take a peek at it. It was...difficult to describe. The shape of the thing vaguely resembled a small ice maker, colored black and gray, but with three glass tubes on the top, each filled with strange fluids in primary colors: red, yellow, and blue. While Ortho dusted it off, Idia, was standing off to one side; his knees were almost knocking together, and his fingers fiddled endlessly with the dangling pullstrings of his hoodie as he stared at the judges, brow bathed in cold sweat. “Okay, Brother-o’-mine!” cheered Ortho, and looked to Idia happily. “It’s all set.” Idia said nothing. He didn’t move. He stared straight ahead, like a statue, still focused unblinkingly on the judges. “Uh...brother?” Idia whimpered, still frozen and shaking. “BROTHER!” shouted Ortho, fire-hair flaring up and turning orange for a second as he stomped his foot in frustration. Idia yelped and jumped about a foot in the air. “IWASN’TTHINKINGABOUTHIDING!” he exclaimed in a jabbering sort of way...then blinked when he saw Ortho’s pouty expression. (How the android could pout with no visible lips was anyone’s guess.) He flushed; Idia never blushed red or pink, but his cheeks turned a sort of bluish-purple color. “C’mon!” Ortho urged, and gestured towards the group. “They’re waiting.” This did not seem to encourage Idia, who flinched and looked nervously at the impatient judges. “I...um...uh...w-well, uh...aha...er…” You frowned, glancing with concern at Grim and Caelyum; the former matched your expression, while the other mostly looked bored. This was not going well. A thought came to you, and you stepped forward slightly. Idia must have heard your approach, because his eyes quickly darted to see you, and the encouraging smile you gave. Suddenly, he seemed to relax...but only VERY slightly. Idia was the sort to fear he was BREATHING too loudly and that would get on people’s nerves, he could only be so calm. Still, it helped enough for him to clear his throat and begin talking. “Ahem...s-sorry, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, with a nervous smile, tapping his fingers together childishly. “I’m, ah...not used to this sort of...front and center kinda thing, heh...honestly, I wish I were hiding under my blankets right now...BUT! But, ah...I think the device I’ve made will at least be of interest…” So saying, Idia seemed to pluck up some courage. Your own smile widened as he placed a hand on the machine, and his stance straightened. If there was one thing that Shroud could talk about with SOME pride, it was his work. “I don’t need to tell all you that, uh...th-that the source of magic for m-many wizards and witches is their magic crystals, right? Right. So, ah...I, well...I got to thinking: the problem with the crystals is they can...well...run out. We have to mine for them, we have to dig for them, and there’s always a chance that someday...y’know...th-there might not be any left. Which would...kinda suck, ha. SO! I decided to try and create SYNTHETIC crystals…” He tapped the tubes on the top of the machine. “With these three simple potion compounds, mixed together in the right order, I can...well...do that. Using this machine.” “Would you say there are other advantages to this idea?” Dr. Alcott spoke up. “Oh, y-yes!” Idia said, starting to smile as he realized he had someone’s interest, though he seemed a bit nervous when he noticed the way the other judges scribbled some quick notes down. “Ahem...yes, sir. See, with synthetic crystals, not only do you not need to dig them up, but...well...if you have these compounds, and this machine, you can make as many as you like.” “Well, yes,” Dr. Alcott nodded, “But are they any more advantageous than natural crystals?” Idia paused, as if to think on his answer, then nodded slowly. “There is one other thing,” he said, almost shyly. (Well...there was no “almost” about it, this was Idia Shroud, but you gave him the benefit of the wiggle room anyway.) He paused before steadily elaborating: “Synthetic crystals do have a couple of weaknesses. They are not as physically strong as natural ones, for a start, the same way synthetic gems are not as strong as real jewels. You also can’t make them as large as natural crystals, because with the compounds being used, they can become unstable. But, at the average size of the average magic crystal…” He pointed to the one he wore himself, on his arm, before continuing. “...It can actually last longer than a natural crystal. It...well...um...I don’t know how to explain it, actually, but my experiments have shown that...well...you can use them for a longer period of time before worrying about Overblotting.” “Well, that’s definitely an advantage,” smiled Dr. Alcott, seemingly impressed, then turned serious as he scratched a few notes down before speaking again: “Can we see how this machine works?” “Y-Yes! Yes, of course!” nodded Idia...then tapped Ortho on the shoulder. “Little brother? Um...w-would you do the honors?” He then added in a whisper, “I’ll probably mess up…” Your smile became slightly less proud: Idia was still Idia. Ortho just giggled. “You can’t mess up turning the machine on, Big Brother!” he teased quietly, but still obeyed, pressing a button on the contraption. A loud whirring sound was heard, and the potions in the tubes bubbled and then began to lessen in volume; you could hear the sound of fluid being stirred and mixed, followed by the low humming buzz of another item either cooling or heating the stuff inside the machine… ...It only took about two minutes - during which the judges’ attention was raptly focused on the device, and several in the crowd mumbled to one another with interest - and then, with a rattle and a clatter, a teardrop-shaped, transparent, pale blue crystal dropped into a tray inside the machine. Idia opened the lid and pulled the crystal out of the tray, holding it up for everyone to see, then offered it to the judges, who inspected it closely. Finally, Dr. Alcott handed the artificial crystal back to Idia with a smile. “Fine work, young Master Shroud,” he nodded in approval. “Fine work indeed.” The other judges and the audience applauded. Idia smiled bashfully, tucking his head down and mouthing a quiet word of thanks as he hugged the crystal to his chest. Ortho, noticing the way his brother was shaking, gave him an encouraging hug as the mob and the judges - still chatting betwixt themselves - moved away. Once again, yourself and your friends stepped forward, all of you wearing matching grins. “I’m so proud of you!” you cheered, and gave Idia a hug. You felt the eldest Shroud freeze up in your embrace, and couldn’t help but smile still wider; Idia, bless his heart, still wasn’t used to much physical interaction, and you could feel him starting to twitch. You gave him a very gentle, comforting squeeze, and rubbed his back reassuringly. Only then did his arms steadily move upwards to gingerly return the hug. “Nya!” Grim called out happily, trotting over with a wide grin, purring up at the fire-haired Ignihyde head. “You did a lot better than I expected!” “An interesting invention, too,” Cael complimented. “I’m sure you’ll end up with first place!” “Oh, I-I dunno,” mumbled Idia, rubbing one arm and squirming slightly with embarrassment. “I thought Madoc had a pretty cool creation, too…” “His was neat,” nodded Grim, “But I think yours is better.” “His energy converter DID have one noticeable issue,” Cael thought to add, glancing back towards Xavier’s panel - by now, the odd scientist and his assistant had turned their attention away, and were seemingly polishing the power pack. “It depends on HIM in order to work. No one else would be able to use it: it’s not something you can mass produce, because no one else has his Unique Magic.” “That’s true,” Ortho spoke up. “But hey! The basic idea isn’t bad; with a little adjusting, he could make it something really special for everyone to use!” “If he cares enough to try,” mumbled Grim; he subsided at the look you gave him. “It’s up to the judges, and the contest has just started,” you said, crisply, then smiled at Idia once more. “Whatever happens, you did good. Don’t doubt that.” Idia smiled sweetly. “Th-thank you,” he whispered, then glanced at the crystal in his hand and back up at you...before offering it cautiously. “Would you...like a souvenir? Heh…” You chuckled, and took the crystal, placing it in your pocket. “Sure,” you said. “Thanks, Idia.” “Y-You’re w-w-welcome,” stuttered Idia, looking like he was scared of feeling too happy. He paused and cleared his throat with a cough before reaching into his hoodie’s pocket, pulling out his cell phone. “Well, um...I wanna catch up with a new show I’m watching, so...I’m, uh...y’know...gonna go find a nice, safe corner till the judgment call comes, and...well…ju st, uh...exist, heh…” “Can I watch with you, Big Brother?” Ortho peeped hopefully. “Sure,” Idia said with a smile and a nod, then gave you the same gestures before scurrying away, looking like he couldn’t wait to get away from everything that had the power to breathe. Yourself and your two companions chuckled and gave a collective mock salute to the Shroud brothers, as Ortho followed Idia quickly. Then, still chattering amongst yourselves, you hurried to rejoin the group and see what else was at the exposition… None of you were aware of Xavier Madoc’s eyes following the mob’s movements, before glancing back at Idia’s device. One could have sworn his one green eye flashed.

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The exposition had come to an end, and after two hours of deliberation, the judges were ready to deliver their verdict. The contestants had lined up on either side of the room, while the audience sat in chairs before a podium. Yourself, Caelyum, and Grim all took seats in the second row (the front row had filled up too quickly) and watched as Dr. Alcott approached the podium, adjusting his spectacles and shuffling some papers in his hands. You glanced to the right. Along with the other contenders at the expo, Idia and Xavier were naturally lined up, both on the same side of the hall. Xavier stood with a cocksure smile, arms crossed, while Idia was nervously twiddling his fingers, biting his lip with his dagger-like teeth. He looked towards Xavier and smiled nervously. “S-So, uh...may the best man win, huh?” he said, awkwardly. Xavier didn’t even look at the dorm head as he narrowed his eyes and simply said, “Don’t worry. I will.” Idia looked a bit befuddled. Abe and Ortho - who stood beside their corresponding creators - looked at each other and shrugged. The sound of Dr. Alcott brought your attention back to the podium. “It’s time,” Cael and Grim murmured at the same time, as the lead judge addressed the audience, crooked nose pointed high. “Friends of science,” the doctor began, “I am not one for grand speeches or over-sentimentalizing the talents we’ve seen on display here today. Virtually every experiment we viewed today, every invention created or formula concocted, was of interest.As far as those doing this for an assignment go, my supposition is you will all pass with flying colors. However, there can only be one winner: one person to leave this exposition a proper champion.” He snapped his fingers and one of the other judges stepped up beside him, and handed him a trophy, with a golden ornament resembling a ringed planet. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Dr. Alcott intoned, “The winner of the Annual Science Expo is…” Xavier smirked, and straightened up his labcoat, taking a deep breath, as if ready to thank everyone… “...Mr. Idia Shroud!” Xavier froze, the smile seemingly slapped from his face as his eyes widened. Idia’s eyes widened too, and he gasped in surprise as the crowd applauded. One could almost see tears in his eyes as he realized what had happened. Yourself and your party cheered as Ortho nudged Idia up to the podium to accept his trophy, which he did with trembling fingers. You were grinning from ear to ear, and so was Idia; his shark-toothed smile had never been wider, you felt, nor more genuine in nature. His amber eyes sparkled like a pair of glittering gold coins. As Dr. Alcott began to congratulate Shroud - who was hugging the trophy to his chest almost like a teddy bear - you turned to see the other contenders. Most of them - including Abe - were clapping politely. The only exceptions were Ortho, who was literally dancing with joy… ...And Xavier Madoc. He looked absolutely livid. His face was almost as red as Riddle Rosehearts’ could get, his fists clenched, one eye twitching as he gritted his teeth angrily. His mismatched eyes were burning… You felt your blood run cold as the blue eye was surrounded by a matching aura. “Grim!” you hissed, tapping the feline-like creature on the side. Grim turned fast...and his ears flattened back and he mewed as he saw droplets of ink dripping from the magic crystal Xavier wore… “Oh, no,” he gulped nervously. “What’s wrong?” Caelyum whispered...then frozen when he saw the same. “Oh, barnacles...is that…?” “Overblot,” you replied, gravely. “Here we go again…” Just as Dr. Alcott shook Idia’s hand, and was about to dismiss him, Xavier suddenly let out a screeching cry of apoplectic rage, which startled everyone present. All eyes watched as the white labcoat of the first-year science master flapped behind him like the wings of a huge war bird, as he flew back towards his panel, and hurriedly strapped the ERPC to his back. “Unacceptable!” he shouted. “I will not allow it! I WILL NOT ALLOW IT! No one outsmarts me! NOBODY! My machines are perfect! My work is superior in every way! And if you doubt that - if ANYONE STILL doubts that…!” A feral grin came to his face as he extended one arm. “...Then I’ll just have to prove otherwise, won’t I? Paint & Thinner.” A flash of turquoise light was immediately followed by an explosive sound. KA-ZAM! A gale wind ripped through the hall, as a swirl of black mist surrounded Xavier Madoc; you cursed violently under your breath as blue and green light burst through pockets in the spiraling cloud of inky darkness. No doubt Xavier’s strong emotions and the level of magic he had put out earlier had blended together, and with the power pack on, he could burn through magic and cause damage with greater force and strength than you could guess. “Brace yourselves!” you called to Caelyum and Grim, as everyone else in the hall dove or ducked for cover. “This isn’t gonna be easy!” “Is it ever?!” Grim yowled, while Cael simply squinted, watching with you as the mist began to clear… ...And soon, you could see the change that had come over Xavier Madoc. The right side of his body had seemingly not changed at all...but the left was another story. Not only was there now a blue aura surrounding his left eye, not to mention the metallic, syringe-tipped left hand...but his whole left side seemed to have become a cyborganic nightmare. The left side of his face was covered in metal plates, and his entire left arm and leg had become robotic in nature; the clothes on the left side of his body were seemingly frayed and shredded, exposing portions of a metal chest and clockwork-esque innards. In-between the joints of his limbs and face, black ink oozed like oil. Xavier’s one green eye was feral looking; bloodshot with a pinprick pupil. He grinned in a manic way, and let out a cackling laugh that rebounded off the hall walls. “HA HA HA HA HA! You dared to overlook my creations?! You spurned my talents, eh?! Then let me show just how powerful I can REALLY become!” he roared, and the ERPC roared to life as he thrust out his syringe hand. “I told you, I can extend my unique abilities without proximity! So now...NOW, ALL OF YOU, GIVE ME YOUR POWER!” In horrific fashion, the needles extended...and five members in the crowd collapsed as they were pricked, turning gray and pallid. Their entire being became monochrome as, in a split second, all emotion was drained from them and into Xavier’s being. Xavier shot out his claws again, the protracting talons jabbing into another five people and rendering them the same. Now, panic set in, and people screamed as they raced for the door. “Don’t leave in such a rush!” laughed Madoc, and snapped the fingers of his one human hand. The doors suddenly shifted, becoming solid walls, and all the windows clicked as they were locked into place. “The party’s just beginning!” Xavier’s claws lunged at you now, but yourself, Grim, and Cael all quickly dropped, ducking the attack. Three other people who had been standing behind you, along with two more, were drained in your stead. Xavier shuddered, a toxic aura surrounding him as the tanks were filled with more and more emotional energy. “More...MORE!” he bellowed. “If I can’t have your respect, I will have your rage...your despair...your panice...fuel me! FUEL ME!” Idia and Dr. Alcott ducked behind the podium with twin yelps. Ortho hurried to check on his brother, and barely avoided the needles as they shot out. The other judges weren’t so lucky, and crumpled in an unconscious, grayscale-colored heap as their emotions were drained. Abe rushed forward to try and stop his creator, desperately grabbing hold of Xavier’s one human arm. Xavier snarled, gnashing his teeth. “Imbecile and traitor!” he roared into the droid’s pleading face. “I have no further use for YOU!” Xavier jerked away his human hand, then, with a sneer, thrust it out again...and - THOOM! - a magical shockwave slammed into Abe’s chest, sending the robot flying. He crashed down beside your trio, the three of you still lying on the ground as Xavier continued to stick his needles into everyone who moved. The room was in a panic, the other contestants’ creations smashing on the floor as people dove for cover. Slowly, Xavier began to make his way through the hall, laughing dementedly. “All this over a freaking trophy?!” hissed Grim. “I think there’s got to be more to it,” mumbled Caelyum. Abe nodded, as if to confirm this, and then gave you a look as if to ask, Now what? This was the burning question; you had to figure out a way to keep Xavier from hurting more people, as well as remove the power pack. As long as he still had the converter on, his power wouldn’t drop. He could potentially stay in Overblot for a much longer period of time, burning the power almost as quickly as he got it...growing just strong enough to overwhelm… “Okay, I’ve got a plan,” you said at last, and whispered to your compatriots. “Listen closely…” Xavier, meanwhile, grinned as he approached a group of people, huddled together. “Let’s try an experiment,” he hissed, a mad grin on the young doctor’s face as he lifted his syringe hand. “I now know how swiftly I can drain an organism...now, can I make it more slow and painful?” He cackled, his victims babbling pleas for him to stop as he lifted his hand, preparing to shoot out the razor-sharp needles and drain them dry. “Every emotion in your body...slowly siphoning into mine...let’s see how long it can really-” FWOOSH! “Nya! Back off, crazy-coat!” Xavier jumped back with an almost animalistic sneer, and swirled his ragged cape around as he looked towards the source of the fire that had distracted him. Grim was standing in a ready pose, balls of blue flame held in each forepaw as he smirked challengingly. “Insufferable hairball!” shouted Xavier. “I WILL NOT BE DENIED! I WILL HAVE MORE POWER!” He lunged at Grim, swiping with his robotic talons, but Grim moved aside quickly. As Xavier plunged towards him, a loud smashing sound was heard from behind. The mad doctor turned quickly, and his one good eye widened in surprise as he saw that Abe had kicked a hole clear through the wall, and was ushering people through the hole and out of the area, Idia and Dr. Alcott leading those still conscious to safety. “NO!” shouted Xavier, and shot out his needles...but he was just too late as Abe blocked him, giving him a determined glare as they scratched helplessly against his armored plating. Then, giving Xavier an almost pitying expression, the robot leapt through the hole himself. Xavier moved to try and give pursuit, but Grim thrust out his arms, and formed a wide ring of fire that blocked the scientist’s path. “You think this will stop me?!” Xavier bellowed. “You can’t defeat me! My invention gives me power beyond yours!” “Good to know. I’d hate to have to refund anything.” Xavier stopped short and glanced about, trying to find the source of Caelyum’s voice...before, suddenly, he felt a strange sensation brushing up against his legs. He looked down...and screamed in a mixture of panic and rage as a horde of marble white Locker Crabs began to swarm over him, their pincers latching onto parts of his clothing and the edges of his inkstained metal carapace, trying to drag him to the floor. “GET OFF ME, YOU CRETINOUS CRUSTACEANS!” yelled Xavier, trying to kick and swat away the crabs, unaware of the shadow that stepped through a gap that formed in the flames, and approached from behind. The crabs snipped their claws at the leather straps holding the ERPC in place. Xavier slapped them away...then jerked as, suddenly, the weight of his invention was pulled away. “WHAT?!” he spat, and turned around fast, pupils pinpricks as he saw you jump backwards, holding the device in your hands. “NO! NO, YOU-GACK!” He hit the floors as the crabs tripped him up. You scampered back through the gap in the flames, which Grim soon closed up. The little monster was jumping up and down, pumping his forepaws/fists and cheering. “NYA! Get ‘im, Cael! Pin ‘im down!” the cat called. “We’ve won now!” A low laugh from under the swarm of Locker Crabs knocked the smile from Grim’s face. “Won? Hardly. I’m still getting warmed up!” ZAM! Xavier sent out another shockwave with a loud shout. You toppled onto your back, the ERPC falling from your hands and thunking onto the floor. The crabs scattered, and the flames were extinguished as Grim was sent rolling across the hall. You quickly sat back up...and shuddered. Xavier loomed over you, the acid-colored aura around him showing his fury as trails of spilling ink traced his steps. You snatched up the ERPC and scrambled to your feet, making a dash for the whole in the wall. “NOT SO FAST!” roared Madoc, and lifted his human hand. He screamed some foreign incantation, and the shattered section was suddenly patched up, the debris flying back into place, stitching together like a jigsaw puzzle’s corners. You swerved and made a dash for a window; you could break it, after all, even if it was locked. Xavier snarled out another incantation, however...and teleported directly in front of you. You skidded to a halt, but not fast enough as he grabbed hold of your arm with one hand, and lifted his syringe claws, a wild grin on his cyborganic face. “HA HA HA!” he cackled. “What a foolish attempt that was! You truly thought you could defeat me?! I will drain you till your very soul is rendered inert! Nothing can resist my power! With the ERPC, I can remain like this for eternity! And when the world grovels at my feet, I will build more machines! BRILLIANT machines! My mechanical creations will-!” FWOOMPH! A burst of flame slammed into Xavier, bowling him over and singing his labcoat. You fell back down and scrambled away as you held tightly to the power pack. Xavier snarled as he stood back up, his mechanical pieces clicking and sparking...as the two of you saw who had re-entered the room. It was Idia Shroud; Ortho had evidently picked the lock on one of the windows, and the pair had climbed through. Idia was visibly trembling, but tried his hardest to look brave, twists of orange curling through his ethereal blue hairdo. “Leave. Them. Alone,” Idia intoned. Madoc sneered. “First you steal my prize, now you RUIN MY MONOLOGUE?!” he yelled. “Alright! Just for that, I WILL OBLITERATE YOU!” Xavier charged at Idia, but the head of Ignihyde narrowed his eyes, gritting his sharp, jagged teeth. His hand shook as he held it, as if showing doubt… ...Then, his stance and expression hardened, and the shaking stopped. Just as Xavier Madoc leapt through the air, swiping his syringe claws through the air...he snapped his fingers. KRAK-KOOM! An explosive blast of fire and noise, like a grenade had gone off, erupted directly before Madoc. The explosion sent the mad scientist flying backwards, his labcoat tattered and scorched, black marks on his skull plates. Xavier cried out as he slammed headfirst into a wall...then crumpled to the floor, and fell still. He was out like a light. The mad doctor was done. You sighed with relief and stood up as Ortho cheered. “WOO-HOO! Way to go, Big Brother!” he exclaimed, and gave Idia a smack on the back. The hunched head of Ignihyde flinched and smiled shyly at his artificial sibling. “It was nothing,” he whispered faintly, visibly blushing. “Are you okay, Prefect?” Ortho asked. “I’m fine,” you nodded as you approached them, and glanced around. “Where are the others?” Right on cue, a low growl was heard. The three of you looked to see Grim was just sitting up, massaging his skull after evidently banging his head during his tumble. “Me-owwwww…! That creep hits way too hard!” he moaned out. “Did anybody get the number on that-MREOWR?!” He was cut off as Idia scooped the imp up and began to snuggle him, crooning and planting chaste, loving kisses on his head. “Awwww, the poor wittle kitty!” he cooed sympathetically. “Did you get an ouchie? Did the mean cyborg hurt you, huh?” “HISSSSS! I’M FINE!” Grim spat, kicking and squirming. “L-Lemme go! For the last time, I DON’T LIKE SNUGGLES, STOP!” Idia just let out a happy hum, squeezing Grim, repeatedly crooning, “Awww, poor thing, you poor little dear…!” over and over again. Ortho giggled sweetly, while you just rolled your eyes and smiled. A skittering sound heralded the reappearance of Caelyum, who reformed out of a pillar of white sand crabs. He stumbled on his feet as he returned to his normal state, and you placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “You okay?” you whispered. “No,” mumbled Cael, and smiled wearily. “When I use the power that way, a fraction of my will - my mind - is in every single crab. I feel like I just got thrown through the loop-the-loop of a roller coaster seventeen times.” You gently patted his shoulder and smiled back, gratefully. “Walk it off, matey,” you said softly with a wink. Cael chuckled. “Aye,” he nodded, as your group moved to look down at the defeated Xavier Madoc. “I will.” For several seconds, the ink-leaking cyborg lay on the ground, unmoving. But that was alright: none of you were expecting him to move. By now, you knew the drill of how things worked after Overblot...and sure enough, after a few seconds, wisps of silvery-white mist began to drift up from the defeated scientist, as his whole body began to glow a blinding white. All of you shielded your eyes from the light, watching as the mist began to spiral, and soon enough, images formed in the center of the floating cloud. Pictures from the past… “Dad! Dad, look at this!” A tall, thin man in white, with a pointed goatee, looked down from the workbench he was stationed at. He smiled as a small boy - with mismatched eyes of blue and green - came waddling into the room, holding a piece of paper. “What is it, Xavier?” “I made a blueprint, dad! I wanna make a robot! Like one of yours!” squeaked the young Xavier, and held out the paper to his father. “Do you think it’s any good, Dad? Do ya? Huh?” The older man lifted the paper and looked; he chuckled at the untidy crayon scrawl drawn on the page, the acronym “A.B.E.” accompanying a childish drawing of a metal man in a porter’s outfit. “Not a bad idea, Xavier,” he complimented his son, and handed the “blueprint” back to its creator before ruffling his son’s hair. “You’ll make a fine inventor, at this rate.” Xavier giggled, playfully swatting at his father’s hand, then gave him a wide but shy smile. “You promise?” he peeped. “Could I...could I be as good as you, Dad?” “No,” the man answered, and leaned down, kissing his son’s forehead. “You’ll be even better.” The child’s happy hum was interrupted by the shifting of time, as a new image spun into view: Xavier was a little older now, and working in a laboratory. He whistled as he fitted a screw into place on a device he was building...only to freeze as he heard voices coming from outside the shop. Curious, he trotted over to the door, and peeked outside. He could see the shadows of two men, arguing not so far away, and heard what they were saying. One of them he recognized as his father’s voice… “Oscar, you can’t be serious!” “I’m sorry, Xander,” the other voice said. “All I know is that Charles got to me first. What would that tell you?” “That Charles is a faster runner,” droned Xander. Xavier giggled softly, but clapped a hand over his mouth to avoid being heard. “Very funny,” Oscar’s voice drawled. “I’m serious, Oscar. You KNOW me, we’ve worked together for years! Are you going to take his word over mine?” “Right now, I haven’t got a choice. His patent has been in development at my company for a while; all that’s left are i’s to dot and t’s to cross. Even if what you say is true, Xander, he finished his work more quickly; I’m not seeing a lot of incentive here.” A pause. “...So that’s it then?” came the terse voice of Xavier’s father. “What about my family, Oscar? What about my son?” “Relax, Xander. You’ll come up with more inventions, you always do, and I’ll be just as willing to buy!” “Forget it. I’ll find another person to sell to.” Another pause. “...Okay. Okay. If that’s how you feel about it,” came Oscar’s weak reply. “Goodbye, Xander.” “Goodbye, Oscar. Tell Charlie he knows where to stuff it.” Oscar’s shadow disappeared, and a few moments later, the sound of a door was heard opening and closing. Xander was heard sighing, and Xavier saw his father’s silhouette slump into a nearby chair. Curious, the boy trundled out of the room to his father’s side; the older inventor was sitting with his head in his hands, massaging his brow. “Dad?” peeped Xavier. “What was all that?” Xander blinked at his son. “Oh. You...heard that, huh?” Xavier nodded slowly. Xander blinked...then sighed and picked his child up, placing him in his lap. “Listen to this, Xavier, because it’s very important,” said the doctor to his son. “Not all inventors are good. You must guard your inventions well, and you must always do your best to make sure no one can top you. People will try to steal what you make, people will look for weaknesses in it. Never let them find any way to stop you.” He placed a hand under his son’s chin and gave a sad smile. “You’ll be brilliant someday...but with brilliance comes danger. You can’t trust anyone, understand?” “I can trust you.” “Of course,” chuckled Xander. “And I can trust my machines,” added Xavier. “Well, yes, but a machine isn’t a person,” Xander said. “Machines only exist to follow their programming. Machines will always do what they’re supposed to. Machines will only let you down if people making them make mistakes. People aren’t like that: people are flawed, and people are foolish. They will pass you over and cheat you if they find a way or reason. Never let that happen. Okay?” “Okay, Dad. I’ll do my best.” The scene shifted again. Xavier was now much older, nearly the same age as he was now. Abe now stood at his side as he worked on a project in his laboratory, building a new machine. “This is going to be the greatest thing ever!” he cheered, grinning to his mechanical companion, who nodded in happy agreement. “Just think of how much fun the science fair will be with this completed! Ha Ha! Man, Abe, we have this in the bag!” “Hi, Xavier!” The pair looked towards a new face that had entered the lab: a fellow youngster in red. “Oh, hey, Gus! What’s up? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the science fair?” “I haven’t figured out what to do yet,” sighed the boy sadly, then smiled weakly. “So, uh...I thought, well...maybe you could help me come up with an idea. I mean...you’re like a billion times better at this stuff, heh…” “Sure, I can help!” smiled Xavier, helpfully, and clapped his hands together, dusting them off, waving for Abe to go fetch a few books. As the robot marched off, the teen in red noticed the item on the workbench. “Hey, what’s that?” “Huh? Oh! It’s my project for the science fair. Looks pretty cool, right?” “Yeah! What’s it do?” Xavier explained quickly. The lad looked envious of his science-savvy friend. “Wow...I’ll never figure out how you can do all that stuff...you’ve gotta be the best inventor ever!” “Awww,” blushed Xavier. “It’s just a knack.” “Can you show me how you make it?” the teen asked, hesitantly. “Sure, if you want,” Xavier said, blithely shrugging and smiling. “Then I’ll help you figure out what you’ll do yourself. Sound fair?” The boy smirked; Xavier didn’t notice the cunning in his eyes. “Yeah. That sounds fair,” the classmate answered. The scenario changed once more. Xavier now glared with absolute hatred at the boy in red...who was smiling, chest puffed out with pride, as he showed off his machine to the judges, who cheered and applauded. It was a machine identical to the one Xavier had made...and the boy had made it first. Xavier had been forced to change his plans, and the experiment he’d come up with at the last minute had been sub-par. The cheat got first place. Xavier got nothing. Xavier snarled, fists clenching as the boy in red smirked in a sidelong way at him, and mouthed the word, “Sucker,” before continuing to bask in adulation. Xavier Madoc scowled as he packed up his items. He was shaking a little. “You can’t trust anyone,” he whispered to himself. “Well, you’ll see...you’ll ALL see...I’ll come up with something no one else can top. I will PROVE to you how good my science is. Just wait and see…” His mismatched eyes burned as he turned his back on the laughing classmates and applauding teachers...and stalked back to his lab. Alone. With his machines. “...I don’t need anybody. Just my machines.”

The mist cleared and evaporated, and the white light faded...revealing Xavier Madoc had changed back to normal on the floor. He was still unconscious, but the glow was gone from his blue eye, and the machinery parts had vanished. Silence reigned for a few seconds. This was not unheard of. By now, you had accepted there was always a “digestion period” where everyone was taking in what they’d just learned. This time, however...the silence stayed unbroken. No one spoke a word, looking like they were trying to properly form thoughts, even as Xavier began to stir again. As he did, he reached out with a hand, fumblingly, mumbling incoherently… ...And froze as someone knelt down and took that hand. Xavier looked up...and seemed stunned when he stared into the wide yellow eyes of Idia Shroud. For a moment, the two looked at each other...then Xavier pulled away with a sneer. “Cheat,” he hissed. “I never cheated,” whispered Idia, sounding surprisingly confident for once...confident, but careful. “It’s not that no one recognized you, Xavier; no one was trying to neglect you. It’s just...there could only be one winner. And I happened to be it.” “It wasn’t an easy decision, either,” added Ortho. “Oh, no?” Xavier grimaced, looking skeptical. “No,” Idia answered. “Dr. Alcott spoke to me before I returned: you would have been second place. Your invention really impressed him and the other judges, they just...felt mine was more easy to use widespread. Yours needed a few tweaks for them to give it the topmost prize.” “They said they couldn’t have asked for a better start to the expo than you,” added Ortho, in a quiet, helpful voice. The bitterness in Xavier’s face had faded slightly, leaving his expression blank and cold. He turned away quietly, and hugged himself, curling up against the wall. “You can’t shut yourself out because of one bad incident,” whispered Caelyum. “Trust me: I know what it’s like when you seal off your heart. It doesn’t get pretty.” “No one is invincible,” added Grim. “Well...except for me, but...that’s because I’m awesome.” You rolled your eyes at the hubris of “The Great Grim,” and knelt down beside Idia, looking into the heterochromatic eyes of the mad scientist. “Just because you’re brilliant doesn’t mean everything is going to be perfect. Similarly,” you said, “Just because one person did something terrible, it doesn’t mean you can shun all people. Everyone and everything has flaws. The important thing is to learn from them.” Xavier furrowed his brow and looked down at the floor for several seconds...then looked back up at both of you. “...I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I...I shouldn’t have lost control. That was...that was childish of me. And...I’m sorry for what I did.” He looked to Idia and smiled shyly. “Your invention was...not too bad.” “Thank you,” Idia said, with a slight blush, and helped the scientist to his feet. Just then, the sound of metallic footsteps echoed out. The group of you turned...and Xavier’s heart seemed to sink as he saw Abe re-enter the hall, yellow eyes fixed on his creator. “Abe, I’m so, SO sorry,” Xavier said, seriously. “I shouldn’t have-EEP!” He was cut off as the metal man crushed him in a solid bear hug, nuzzling his steel cheek against his creator’s hair. Ortho and Grim both giggled, while yourself and Caelyum smirked. Idia, for his part, didn’t seem to know what to make of the scene. “I think he already forgives you,” you said teasingly. Abe nodded to show this was the case. It was obvious he was just happy his maker was back to normal. Xavier smiled bashfully and gestured for the metal man to put him down, then looked to Idia. “So, uh...y-you’re the head of the dorm,” he said, and rubbed his arm. “Do you, uh...like...have any ideas on how to make the ERPC better? More...accessible?” “I can think of something. You know...maybe,” Idia said with a timid smile. “I mean...I’m r-really not the best choice, I...I got the whole idea for MY thing from an anime-” “Anime?” Xavier asked, and perked up visibly. “What anime?” “Oh! Uh...Magica Marocca. It’s...um...a Magic Girl series? You, ah, probably don’t know what that is-” “YOU WATCH MAGICA MAROCCA?!” Idia blinked, stunned, at the sudden look of exuberant excitement on Xavier’s face. “You...you’ve seen it?” the otaku nearly squeaked out. “I love that series!” exclaimed Xavier. “I mean...okay, it’s not, like, the GREATEST thing, in terms of story? Kinda rushed...but I really love the art style, a-and the way it plays with the themes and ideas of a typical Magic Girl series! It’s like Watchmen, but for...that!” Idia looked like he’d just found his soulmate. “I feel the same way! A-And have you seen Glitter Cure?” “Rascal is one of THE best villains ever.” “I AGREE!” squealed Idia, clapping giddily, that wide, almost manic smile you saw so rarely stretching across his face, matching Xavier’s instantly. “Oh, my gosh, no one EVER knows about that one! This is great!” “It is!” nodded Xavier eagerly...then took his turn to blush. “Um...d’ya think we can...oh...I-I dunno...maybe watch some together?” “I mean...only if you want to,” peeped Idia, ducking his head anxiously. “I’m...n-not used to people who...WANT to watch it with me, heh...normally I-I can only talk about it online…” “I’d like to watch it with you,” Xavier promised. “And...and we can talk about our inventions in the meantime. Does...does that sound fair?” Idia nodded slowly, and began to smile wider once more. “Yeah...yeah, it sounds like a plan,” he said, then looked to Ortho. “Is...is it okay with you, Little Brother?” Ortho gaped. “...You’re asking me if YOU can have a VISITOR in the apartment?” “Yes.” “Like...you WANT to HANG OUT WITH SOMEONE?” “Yuh-huh.” “...Okay, who are you, and what have you done with my Big Brother?” You snickered. So did Xavier, as Idia smiled awkwardly. “You wanna come with, Abe?” the mad scientist asked his robotic companion, who saluted in response. “Great!” Idia laughed. “Let’s go then!” And with unusual, uncharacteristic joy, the otaku and the eccentric sauntered off together, their androids following them as the exit door reformed and they left the convention hall. You smiled. “Well,” you sighed happily. “All’s well that end’s well. Looks like Idia’s found a new friend at last.” “I’m happy for them,” smiled Caelyum. “Finding a person who you can connect with is important.” “Uh-huh,” nodded Grim. “Now, there’s just one problem.” “What’s that?” both you and Cael asked. Grim wordlessly pointed to the mess of chairs, scorch marks, busted machines, and dented walls that the hall had become. You went pale. “...Ohhhhh...right...I forgot...we’re the janitors.” “Uh-huh,” Grim said again, drably. “Well, good luck with that!” Caelyum chirped, and began to saunter off towards the door. “Hey! HEY! Where are you going?!” snapped Grim. “Back to the Mystery Shop,” Cael called over his shoulders. “I have a job of my own to do, me hearties! Take care!” “But-!” Your call was unanswered. Cael disappeared, leaving you and Grim standing alone in the mess. You both looked around, then at each other. “...Grim?” “Yeah, Minion?” “It’s moments like these where I wonder if helping people is worth it.” “I never wonder, Minion,” sighed Grim. “Moments like these, I know it isn’t.”

Your feet shuffled as you went to find the broom and dust pan. From saving the day to cleaning up the wreckage, a Prefect’s work was never done.

The End

#fanfic #story #commission #disney #twisted wonderland #oc #mad doctor #epic mickey #xavier madoc #idia shroud #ortho shroud #idia #ortho #caelyum de macabre #caelyum #cael #grim

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system76 · 4 years ago

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Behind the Scenes of System76: Industrial Design

Since moving into a factory space in 2018, System76 has delved deeper and deeper into manufacturing hardware in-house. Three years later, we’ve introduced five Thelio desktops, fine-tuned the hardware, developed our fully configurable Launch keyboard, and optimized our production processes. Helming the design process is Mechanical Engineer John Grano, who wears a number of different hats here. We sat down with John this week to discuss industrial design and the team behind our beautiful open source hardware.

How would you describe industrial design for people unfamiliar with the term?

To me, industrial design is basically the art of making something into a usable product. In industrial design, you have to balance looks and function, and that drives your form. It’s kind of like hardware UX in that it’s really important to have the right feel. If you can make the system connect better with people, they’ll like it more. Adding that softness we do with Thelio, like slightly rounded edges and darker wood, it makes it a little more approachable to have a semi-natural looking system and not something that’s blinking at you with red lights all the time.

System76 itself is a group of hardcore programmers and people that are really into Linux, but I think the idea of trying to democratize Linux is extremely important. If you can create something that doesn’t have that robotic aesthetic, it will provide people with something that feels more familiar and usable. No one really wants to go sit in a car that looks like a square with wheels on it. They want something that makes them feel something, maybe openness or comfort, when they’re in it.

What inspired you to get into mechanical engineering, and how did you end up at System76?

The way my brain works lends itself well to engineering, for better or for worse. There’s a lot of really solid engineers who don’t have much creativity, and then there are a lot of people who have great creative ability, but can’t do math. I kind of fluctuate in the middle; I wouldn’t say I’m the best at math or the most creative person in the entire world, but I have enough of each that the combination pushed me towards mechanical engineering. I like working with my hands, and it’s more of a study of how things work in the real world versus computer science, which is a purely digital and nontangible practice.

During school I worked mainly as a bike mechanic, and that helped me to think about how to build things better. That led me to my first internship at a bike company working in a wind tunnel, which was really fun. Realizing that I could probably never get a job there—or at least one that would pay me enough to live—I started working at an environmental engineering company, where I prototyped scientific sampling systems for R&D that would process materials with all these gasses at really high heat and tried not to die. It was kind of fun making these large-scale systems that were basically just gigantic science experiments, but I didn’t really have the creative outlet I wanted in terms of making something that looks good.

One of the main things that drew me to System76 was being able to have a solid influence on what tools we were able to use and how we were going to push the design. In the past three years, it’s pretty wild to see what we’ve been able to accomplish coming from a completely empty warehouse to being able to crank out parts.

I had also previously, while working at these scientific instrument companies, been working with a local company to design and develop a cargo bicycle, so I had that experience as well in terms of consumer product development with overseas manufacturing. I think that helped get me in the door here.

Let’s talk a bit about your team. Who do you collaborate with on a typical day?

It’s a very small team and everyone does a lot. I pretty much lead the mechanical engineering team slash design team...slash manufacturing team. Being a small company, we are all wearing a bunch of different hats. Aside from doing the initial design work on all of our Thelio desktops and the Launch keyboard, I also program our laser-punch machine and our brake press and run through all of the design for manufacturing hang ups that show up. Those changes tend to be a result of our current tools, and internal capabilities.

Crystal came on last August as our first CNC Machinist. She heads up all of the machining, trains our operators, makes sure our parts are coming out in a nice clean fashion, and has done a lot of work on minimizing machine time and maximizing the parts we can get out. She also provides really great feedback on what's possible and what kind of special fixtures or tools we'll need to make for a specific part. Around the same time we picked up our first Haas 3-axis CNC mill to start working on the Launch project. That led to some other opportunities to make parts for Thelio and improve the feel of some of the parts that we were pumping out.

We just hired Cary, who came from a similar background as me in consumer product development, as well as low-scale scientific machine development. He’s going to help build manufacturing tools for us, and he’s only been here now for two or three weeks. Going forward, Cary will be heading up the Thelio line long-term, and I’ll be moving to some interesting R&D work.

And Zooey?

Zooey doesn’t really do much. She just kind of sits there and waits for people to feed her their lunch. I take her out for walks during the day so she can get away from everyone petting her. She doesn’t like when they do that.

What was the R&D process like for Launch?

Launch is a less complicated product in that we don’t have to deal with things like cooling. Even dropping a PCB into aluminum housing deals with multiple processes, like using the laser and CNC machine. This was a start to looking at those processes to see how much time it takes to produce parts, the costs going into making them, and monitoring the cutting quality. You have to be familiar with the machines and know what you’re looking for when you see a tool going dull.

We first let the software experts do their thing and optimize a layout they wanted for their programming life. Then I was given that template, built a couple of sheet metal chassis that we wired up to test that layout, and made a bunch of little changes to that to get that right secret sauce for our keyboard-centric workflow in Pop!_OS. Once we got a sheet metal product that we were sure was going to be usable, we decided officially that we were going to pursue making a keyboard. That came with a whole new set of manufacturing requirements that we would have to look into.

We spent a ton of time working on pocket profile. When you look at a Launch, you’ll see that it’s not a perfect rectangle. That’s because when you’re using a mill, you have a round tool, so you can go through and get close to a pretty small radius on the corner, but you can never make it exact. If we wanted to get a very small, tight pocket, we’d have to use a very small cutter that takes an extremely long period of time.

We’re taking raw billet, which are these huge 12-foot-long sticks of aluminum that we cut down to get our final product. We went with a rounded rectangle so that we could use our cutter and decrease the overall time to machine that part. There was a lot of work in that and making sure the pockets were all 13.95mm versus 13.9mm versus 14.1mm.

We also did a lot of R&D on how we go about putting the angle bar on. Magnetic assembly seemed to be a good idea. We went from trying to glue magnets in to doing what's called press fitting. The bars come right out of powder coating while they’re nice and warm, when the aluminum is slightly larger than when it cools down. Those magnets aren’t actually adhered to anything in the bars; they’re squeezed in nice and tight from the aluminum cooling and contracting around them. That’s called a press fit, and doing that makes the process faster and less expensive.

It’s similar with the bottoms of Launch; we have steel plates that we press fit into that part as opposed to gluing or screwing, but that we do before powder coating; steel rusts, and we don’t want someone opening up their keyboard in a year and finding a little bit of rust floating underneath their super high-end PCB. So we do that, sand it down, use our media blaster to clean off the surface from the tool paths you see from the mill, and then we powder coat it through and through.

Word on the Denver streets is that Thelio Major is getting a redesign soon. What does that entail?

We’re bringing Thelio Major a lot more in line with Thelio Mega in terms of a different PCI mount for graphics cards, because we know that’s been a pain point for a lot of our users. We want to provide a little bit more robust installation for these graphics cards, which continue to increase in size and weight. The NVIDIA 3000-series cards are almost a pound heavier in some instances, and that’s a lot of weight to be shipping across the country.

We also want to continue to make Thelio Major cooler and quieter when it’s running with these new GPUs. Our new brake press allows us to make radius bends on parts, so we’re starting to run through R&D of a laser-welded external. It’s a wholesale departure from us using custom brackets and 3M VHB tape. That will provide a nicer finished product to our end user, and it’ll allow us to make our product faster with less material and less steps.

What qualities do you look for when adding someone to the team?

Creativity is extremely important. As a small manufacturing company, our priorities can shift on a day or in an afternoon where we don’t have the full line of product anymore. There are all sorts of examples in the past few years of times where you have to react pretty quickly. The motherboard’s been EOL’d, or we have to change our sheet metal design, build a new part, things like that. Making sure that someone can adapt to those changes on a moment’s notice is one of the key parts of the job.

We also want people who get excited about a new challenge and have the desire to keep improving something. I look for people who like to make things and go back in and refine it and not hold it up on this pillar. It’s good to not look at something like it’s perfect.

You have a lot of love for your Audi. What do you love about it over other options?

I like German cars. We have a family of them. They’re high-performance and not too expensive if you do all the work on it yourself. There’s a huge after-market community that tunes and changes these cars, which is pretty fun. Plus I prefer the metric system. Having a standard system drives me nuts, because what the [REDACTED] are fractions?

My real love, though, is bikes. I love tuning and riding bikes, and I love that more than I like to work on cars. It comes out of tinkering. I work with carbon fiber, I’ve done a lot of repairs on bikes over the years—there’s a certain sense of freedom you get from riding a bike that you can’t get from anything else. Not motorcycles, not cars.

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imaginetonyandbucky · 4 years ago

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The Buy In

For the prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love

Chapter One: Fresh Meat

by @dracusfyre

“Hey, boss, we got fresh meat for you,” the man at Bucky’s elbow said. Bucky’s heart was in his throat, pulse racing like mad; he was the first detective ever to get this close to Tony Stark, to the Mechanic, and he prayed he would live to tell the tale. For years Stark had only been seen through the lens of a telescoping camera, impeccably dressed with sunglasses hiding his eyes and surrounded by his men at all times. Before today there had been no wiretaps, no informants, no insight into the elusive mob boss and his inner circle. But after years of hard work, Bucky was about to change that. As he was pushed into the echoing warehouse, his eyes darted around the room, taking in the classic cars, the souped-up sports coupes and half-built engines, looking for the man himself. Bucky wondered how many of these were stolen and awaiting new buyers. Men in suits were spread out guarding the exits, but he didn’t see a desk or an office, any kind of throne from which Stark ran his criminal empire.

After a moment, in the middle of the room, a man that Bucky’s eyes had completely glossed over unfolded himself from a work bench. He was wearing a tank top and low-slung jeans, and as he stood, he pulled his welding mask off and put down the butane torch. Bucky blinked, stunned as he approached; the man’s hair was tousled and messy, jaw dark with a five o’clock shadow, arms toned and tan. His eyes, when they met Bucky’s, where whiskey brown and warm with amusement. Bucky barely kept his jaw from dropping as he recognized Tony Stark, right down to the scar on his jaw he’d gotten in the car crash that had killed his parents.

“New meat, huh?” Stark asked, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he tilted his head and studied Bucky with eyes that seemed entirely too perceptive. “Tell me about him.”

“Wants a job,” the man at his elbow said. Bucky didn’t jump, but it was a near thing; he’d forgotten the man was even there. This was Tony Stark? The Mechanic was actually a mechanic? Everyone, from Bucky's fellow policemen to the FBI task force that had been organized to take him down, to the ATF agents and federal marshals that swapped stories over beer, had a different theory about where the man’s klichka came from: because of his well-known penchant for nice cars, because shop tools were his favorite methods of interrogation, because he was good at greasing wheels and making things happen. No one had ever suggested, even as a joke, that it might be because the man was a grease monkey. “Former military, spent time in Iraq,” the man continued. What was his name? Oh yeah, Harold. Everyone called him Happy. “Got out and a friend of a friend got him a job, if you know what I mean. His info checks out; he used to do work down at Brighton Beach then moved up to Red Hook before crossing the bridge. You said we needed new muscle down on 6th, remember?”

“I remember.” Stark pulled out a wrench that had been hanging from his belt and started flipping it from hand to hand as he considered Bucky thoughtfully. Bucky lifted his chin and met Stark’s eyes, hoping his nervousness didn’t show; this wasn’t his first undercover assignment, just the one with the highest stakes. Stark controlled most of Manhattan and had been successfully expanding his territory at the expense of the Russians and Irish and gangs from Harlem. As the silence stretched, the metal of the wrench flashed in the light from the windows as it rose and fell, his hands sure and steady. “Go away, copper,” Stark said finally, and Bucky gaped as Stark turned away.

“I’m not a cop,” Bucky protested to Stark’s surprisingly muscled back. This operation, his job, maybe even his life depended on convincing Stark he wasn’t a cop. “Look, this is the biggest outfit in the city and I just want a paycheck, ok? My last boss came up short and ran back to Armenia without paying his debts. Word is you always pay up.”

“Sure you do,” Stark said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “We all just want a paycheck, right? Happy, remind me why we need muscle on 6th?”

“Cops have been hassling our people,” Happy said, taking a step away from Bucky and eyeing him with suspicion. “Trying to shake’em down, demanding a cut.”

“Right, right.” Stark picked up his welding mask but didn’t put it on. “What’s your name, copper?”

“I’m not-“ When Stark just raised an eyebrow and gestured like get on with it, Bucky said, “Jason. Jason Brooks.”

“That’s it? No street name?”

“My friends call me JB sometimes, but that’s it.”

“Alright, Blue Eyes,” Stark said as he pulled his mask back down over his eyes and fired up the torch again with a hiss of blue-white heat. “Get the cops to lay off my people, and you’ll get your paycheck.”

Happy put a hand on Bucky’s back and shoved him back out the door of the warehouse since they’d been dismissed. “That’s it?” Bucky said, bemused.

“Yeah, that’s it. Whaddya want, to provide a resume and cover letter? It’s not like the Boss has to check with HR here.”

“Does he really think I’m a cop?”

Happy shrugged. “Only the boss knows what the boss thinks. Guess not if he said you could stay. Come back tomorrow at 5.”

“Do you really think he’s a cop?” Rhodey asked when Tony was done welding, coming over to admire the smooth bead he’d put on the chassis of the classic car he was remodeling.

“Oh, he’s definitely a cop,” Tony said, stretching his back and shoulders. “But then I thought, we have a cop, we have cop problems, let’s let one take care of the other. Either he’ll get them to back off, or he won’t, but either way one of my problems will be solved.”

“Oh, so it’s not because he has a pretty face?”

“I didn’t know you were on the market, platypus,” Tony said with wide eyes. “I’m sure I could get his number for you, along with his bank account, social security number, and entire relationship history.” When Rhodey just rolled his eyes, Tony grinned. “He did have a pretty face, though, didn’t he? I wonder if that’s why they sent him.”

“Not unless the feds have changed their MO in a big way,” Rhodey said, handing Tony a towel to clean his hands and wipe the sweat off his face and neck.

“I’ll let him run around a bit and see what happens,” Tony said, voice turning serious. “I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I had about Natasha. Or Natalie, whatever she’s calling herself now.” Natasha had been a plant from the Russians, trying to crack his operations so they could retake some blocks they’d lost a few years ago when Tony had taken advantage of infighting to push his boundaries out. She’d taken one look at the ladies working in Tony’s territory and taken to them like a mother cat with kittens. She’d also organized them with the ruthlessness of any NY City union boss, eliminating pimps with such prejudice it earned her the klichka the Widow. Six months into working for him, she’d flipped and given him everything she knew and was the reason why the Russians had been pushed back to their tiny toe-hold in Brighton Beach, with most of them heading back for greener territories back in the Motherland. “Put him with KT. He’s good with newbies.”

“You aren’t worried he’s going to find something?”

Because it was Rhodey, Tony gave it some thought. Whatever law enforcement sent Blue Eyes had apparently done a better job with his cover than the previous people did; so far Happy had been able to weed them out pretty early on. Tony couldn’t even say why he was getting a cop vibe from the new guy. He had short hair, little longer than military regulation, but the stubble on his jaw screamed six-day bender and he had the thousand-yard stare of an ex-soldier used to violence down pat. Hell, that part was probably true. Maybe it was the surprise in his eyes when he’d seen Tony; in Tony’s experience, most people who made their living on the streets had the ability to be surprised burned out of them long ago. “Nah,” Tony said eventually. “For the good stuff, he’d have to go through me. Anything else he’d just be nibbling around the edges.”

“Whatever you say,” Rhodey said with a shrug.

#tony stark #winteriron #bucky barnes #no powers au #tony x bucky #dracusfyre

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kitkat1003 · 4 years ago

Text

Who Are You Really?

Just who is Yin Spirit?

Anyway finally made a Spirit fic

Cover Here

Ao3 link

Chapter 1: Escape

Spirit has been scared for a long, long time.

Not for forever, because there used to be good times. Good times were the days spent scampering through the forest and eating anything they could off of bushes and trees, finding out what was good and not while hiding from the predators that could never catch them. Good times were days following Mom around the Inn, helping mix up medicines and salves and watching as she fixed wounds and illnesses as if they were mere inconveniences rather than life threatening. Good times were scritches behind their ears, nights curled up on a branch or in a soft bed next to someone who cared, where there was nothing to cause nightmares yet.

But the good times are behind them.

They have been for a long, long time.

But Spirit won’t let that get them down! They’ve been around for...well, they lost count of the years a while back, because Mom was the one who kept count and they didn’t feel like asking. They wonder if they’re timeless, if they just keep going because no one has told them to stop.

They’ve told themself to stop plenty of times, but it never sticks.

But they have a day job! Sure, it doesn’t pay anything, but going around and helping spirits move on is something they think their Mom would be proud of. One of their eyes, the one their mom helped fix, can spot spirits without any trouble and that makes the job easier.

It’s the one on the left side of their face. The lonely one.

They’re good with their blades and they can fight off the occasional mean spirit if they happen to pop in. They’ve been busier, too, since they can’t rely on mortals to fend for themselves in smaller cases anymore.

Mortals wouldn’t know what to do, because the types of mortals who knew how to fend off spirits, who knew the sigils and magic necessary for self-protection, those died off long ago. Peacetime breeds lack of preparation; those traditions and that vigilance was lost to time. A lack of consistent danger leads to laziness.

Spirit isn’t lazy. There’s always danger.

The job is a bit lonely, though. Spirit doesn’t interact with humans without a disguise, because monkey demons seem to cause more of a stir than others. Spirit thinks Monkey King is the reason behind it, but then again, Monkey King has been missing for a while. And everyone blames Monkey King for everything. Demons and Gods alike hate him. Spirit’s pretty sure the name Sun Wukong is banned from being said in the heavenly palace, even.

They duck behind a building and through a secret passageway a few miles out from the nearest city.

They do have a second job, after all.

Bull clones greet them, red eyes glancing over them before moving out of the way so Spirit can enter. They pass through the very, very lavish halls of the building, down towards the basement.

Or, well, down towards the workshop.

They can tell Red Son is up in a tizzy, because things get hotter and hotter the deeper they go in. That usually means that Red Son is upset. He’s been upset more often lately.

Spirit tries not to think about how it’s probably because Princess Iron Fan has become someone who no longer reminds them of their Mom; rather, she’s more like their other parent.

“Hi Red!” they greet, and Red Son really is in a mood, because he scowls at the nickname.

He’s hunched over his desk, hair wild. It flickers, whipping around like actual flames rather than the controlled shapes Red Son prides himself in styling, and Red Son’s hands burn the metal tools he holds. When he flips up his welding mask, there are bags under his eyes, his pupils burning with exhaustion.

Spirit winces at the sight.

“I am Red Son! Address me as such!” he shouts.

Spirit flinches back a little. Sometimes Red Son’s shouting is easy to handle and other times they want to curl into a ball until the storm passes. This is more of the latter.

“Sorry,” Spirit mutters, and they mean it. “I keep forgetting. You used to be Red Boy, you know? I get them mixed up, so saying Red makes sure I’m right no matter what!”

Red Son glances over at them and softens. It’s a secret, but Red Son has always been a little soft. Soft isn’t what a Princess Iron Fan needs, though, so Red Son has put his heart on the shelf, so to speak.

It’s admirable. Spirit knows that as a kid, you have to do a lot to keep your parents happy, or else you won’t be good enough anymore and you’ll have to go. They hadn’t told Red Son that when they’d met, but they’re glad Red Son learned before anything too drastic happened. Princess Iron Fan hadn’t seemed like that type of parent when Spirit had first met her, but ever since Demon Bull King was sealed away…

Spirit sees less of Princess Iron Fan every time they visit. It’s likely for the best.

“You may call me Red in private. Not in public. Or around mother,” Red Son acquiesces.

Spirit smiles, warm.

“Thanks Red.” They reach into their pocket, pulling out a mechanical piece. “And here! That part you wanted!”

Red Son snatches it from their hands, and they jerk back at the violent motion, a shot of fear jolting up their spine.

“About time!” he snarls, but there’s no heat to it. Spirit knows Red Son enough to know when the anger is more performative, though they’re still a little wary regardless.

“It took a bit to find, you know. I was as fast with it as I could be, you know that,” Spirit assures. They take their favors very seriously, after all. If they fulfilled it in a less than perfect fashion, it might not count, and if it didn’t count then that would mean that they could get hurt.

“Yes,” Red Son mutters. “Adequate work.”

“That brings you up to…” Spirit pulls out their nifty favor book, flipping through the pages until they spot Red Son’s name. “Ten favors!” They tally it down.

Ten favors means Spirit can mess up ten times and not get hurt. Ten favors means ten degrees of safety, ten layers of protection. It’s another blanket of relief.

Red Son doesn’t deign that with a reply, setting the part onto the workbench and turning it around. He measures it out.

“This is more than enough material,” he mutters, glancing over at Spirit questioningly.

Spirit rubs the back of their neck, sheepish.

“Yeah, I know you said a specific size, but finding flame resistant, rust resistance, magically reinforced metal in a specific size isn’t easy! But, I got this lazer thing,” Spirit reaches into their pocket and pulls it out. “It’s tuned to the specific enchantment so you can use it to cut the metal! And you can keep the extra material!” They hand it over to Red Son.

Red Son rolls the device around in his hand, before glancing up at Spirit, seemingly unimpressed.

“I thought it was nifty…” Spirit mutters. They would have thought Red Son would like to have extra material. He’s always got another invention on the backburner, so more stuff is better, right? And they brought him a new laser cutter thing! What’s wrong with that?

Then again, Red Son has been a bit more particular about perfection as of late, so that could be the issue.

Spirit chews on the inside of their cheek and tries to not take it personally. Why bother, when fighting back will lead to nothing but regret and pain? They’re not strong, and they know that. If they were strong, they’d still have four eyes and a mom. So it’s easier to let it slide off their back than make a fuss.

Even if it does hurt a little. But that’s fine.

“I suppose it’ll do.” Red Son slides down his welding mask and starts cutting the metal down to size.

Spirit watches, rocking back and forth on their feet, because watching Red Son work is always fun. They used to watch their mom work, whenever there was a patient, and she’d always ask them to grab this herb or that gauze. From start to end, Spirit would see their mom fix up any health issue with practiced, simple movements. Always graceful and soft.

In contrast Red Son is very animated, when he’s in the zone, with sharp, harsh motions and dangerous flames that have them stepping back a few times. Still, Spirit has been getting a lot of parts for whatever it is Red Son is making, so it almost feels the same. It’s a wonderful feeling, to be able to help in the creation of something, whether it be a healed patient or...

“What’s all this stuff for?” they ask, because now that they think about it, they were never told.

Red Son freezes, and Spirit takes that reaction as reason for why they weren’t told. They take another step back, out of the immediate blast zone (last time they checked, Red Son’s explosive temper had a thirty foot radius, with the most dangerous flames being within ten feet of the explosion) and tries not to make a mistake that could cost them. They have their favors, but those only got so far, and they only have ten! They can’t lose them.

“If-if it’s okay to ask,” Spirit fumbles, fidgeting. Their tail curls around their leg, an anxious habit. “I was just curious on how you’re gonna use all this stuff I’ve been bringing.”

Red Son doesn’t turn, but his posture does loosen ever so slightly. “...Mother wouldn’t want me to tell you,” he does seem a bit apologetic at the refusal.

Spirit gets it. Princess Iron Fan knows them. Spirit doesn’t betray, but they’ll do anything for a favor. And if someone wants information they already have, why wouldn’t they give it away?

“Can I know what you’re making? You don’t have to tell me how you’re using it, I’m just curious.” They kind of like eavesdropping. Sometimes, when they finish a job around mortals, they’ll lurk around to pick up the town gossip. Mortals have a lot to talk about, since they don’t have mortal peril to contend with.

“It’s for a gauntlet,” Red Son admits. “A glove so powerful that the wearing could lift anything with it!”

His hair flickers wildly in excitement, voice rising in pitch and volume as he continues.

Spirit “oooo”’s in appreciation, clapping their hands.

“Sounds exciting!” They have a few guesses of what said gauntlet could be used for, but no one tells them to think for a favor, so they keep those thoughts to themself. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. That stuff burns!”

Red Son does not laugh at their joke. To be fair, they’ve said it about a hundred times in the past thousand years. Red Son does smile, for a moment, before turning back to his work.

“See you, Red!” They get a wave as they leave, which means they’ve improved Red’s mood a little.

If Red Son is in a good mood, he’ll actually say goodbye, but a wave is far better than when he just ignores their departure.

They head up the stairs and then down the hall toward the way they came in, and nearly run into Princess Iron Fan in their haste to leave. Their vision is a little lopsided, one side of their face having one eye and the other having two, so they can miss things if they aren’t paying attention. It helps if they close one eye to even things out.

“S-Sorry ma’am!” They quickly bow, standing up straight a moment later.

They usually try to hunch over when they’re around others, since their height can be seen as an intimidation tactic or even a sign of disrespect, for those with big egos, but Princess Iron Fan could never be intimidated by them and to insinuate such would be the real insult. After all, Princess Iron Fan is the wife to the Demon Bull King. Clearly, size means little to her.

“Spirit,” Princess Iron Fan’s voice is colder than it has ever been, and Spirit shivers. “I see you have delivered your latest favor.”

“Yes ma’am.” Spirit nods with a small, what they hope is respectful, smile. “Do you have any other favors you need me to do?”

The Demon Bull Family has been Spirit’s greatest...well, ally is a bit strong, but Spirit likes them a lot, out of those that typically call for favors. While Princess Iron Fan has gotten less maternal over the years, she’s never outright mean to Spirit, and they take what they can get.

“No, we’re fine,” Princess Iron Fan waves a hand, before her gaze turns sharp.

Spirit feels their breath catch in their throat and they clasp their hands tight behind their back. Their tail goes ramrod straight, the tip brushing the floor.

“I’ll ask you once more,” she starts. “Align yourself with the Demon Bull Clan. You will have our protection and will be at our disposal.”

Spirit bites back a sigh, because Princess Iron Fan has asked them a few times to join, and they do appreciate the offer, really, but it just is...too much. Maybe they would have considered the offer more when Princess Iron Fan was nicer, but Spirit has seen the expectations she’s put on Red Son and they don’t have it in them to disappoint another parent.

They don’t know what she’d do, if Spirit failed her, but they know it would hurt.

“Sorry, ma’am, but I don’t align myself with clans. I’m a free Spirit, so to speak,” they bite back a giggle at the pun.

Princess Iron Fan’s eyes flicker yellow and Spirit wonders if they’re going to have to run, but then she sighs.

“Very well then. Stay out of town for the next few months. For...your own safety. If things go according to plan, then…” Spirit nearly jumps back at the feral smile that graces Princess Iron Fan’s face. “Things are going to get messy around here.”

Spirit takes a shaky breath, and nods.

“Yes ma’am. Farewell.” They bow, and then run off.

Jeez. This is exactly why they keep away from all this stuff. The Demon Bull Family is scary, and Spirit just wants to dole out favors in peace.

They don’t have any favors in mind on the backburner, and no one has called for them, so they head to the nearest town outside of the one Princess Iron Fan has told them to leave, and decide to clean up the local spirit activity there.

The next few months are relatively uneventful, if only because there’s no new favors for them to spend their time on. Sometimes there are dry spells. They once went two years without a favor, and boy, was that a boring couple of years!

It gets really lonely, some days. They’ll play as a human for a while, intermingling with the mortals who have no clue what spirits haunt them.

Spirits don’t have to be people, they just have to be things that were alive. A dead relationship is just as haunting as a person. Dead hopes, dead wishes, dead family ties, dead lives you’ve left behind—all weights that cling to auras.

Spirit knows they have plenty themselves. They’ve lost a lot. It sticks around.

Being around humans is hard nowadays, though. They used to hang out around humans a lot. Helping their Mom out in the Inn with patients acclimated them to seeing humans of all shapes and sizes, but then they had to run. And they never stopped.

Staying around humans brings an itchy feeling that feels too much like grief. They don’t like remembering how things used to be, because that only ever hurts. So, when they get too entrenched in the past, they pull away, hide in the forests around the towns.

But they don’t fit in with the wild either. Far too used to civilization, they can never find a place to stay. So they wander.

No one can not notice the carnage that happens. Spirit recognizes Demon Bull King’s aura from miles away, and as the surrounding areas evacuate, Spirit heads towards the danger to investigate.

Normally they’d run away, but whenever they were around Demon Bull King, he seemed nice. Fluffy and kind and ever worried and furious about his son’s imprisonment, demanding Spirit send word to Red and come back with an update on the boy’s condition.

Usually, Spirit wouldn’t try to go toe to toe with the Guanyin, but Princess Iron Fan was inconsolable and Demon Bull King had nearly begged.

So they snuck in to give Red Son, then Red Boy, a letter, and Red Son had them send one back. It was an arrangement made simple, Spirit the messenger. They wonder if the Guanyin knew the whole time and was just letting them sneak around, but regardless, they gained a rapport with the family.

And then Demon Bull King was sealed away, and Princess Iron Fan was despondent. Nothing Spirit said could get her to stop crying, and when they’d relayed the news to Red Son he’d begged on his knees for them to sneak him out, so he could help his mother grieve and move on.

That favor was a hard one to decide on. Again, risking the ire of the Guanyin was not something Spirit was interested in. They knew what the Guanyin could do—she managed to reign in Sun Wukong and she could keep Red Son imprisoned. What would she be able to do to them, a monkey with less than a quarter of the power she’d dealt with before?

But Red Son pleaded, and Spirit caved.

Their history with the family makes it hard to be worried about their safety around Demon Bull King returns, but that doesn’t stop Spirit from worrying about Demon Bull King himself. Being imprisoned for so long is likely unpleasant, and who knows what happened to him underneath the mountain? How has it changed him? It’s not like something like that doesn’t hurt.

They could do without the violence, but Spirit doesn’t try to judge other people’s decisions. If they were locked up for a while, unable to see their family, they might be upset too.

But Spirit doesn’t really get angry, on the regular. Anger doesn’t do anyone good. People getting angry at them has only been bad for Spirit, so the idea of them letting that same anger fester in them so that they hurt someone is ludicrous. And what would their anger accomplish, anyway?

There’s enough pain in the world. Spirit doesn’t feel like adding to it.

They sneak around the levelled town, watching Demon Bull King raze the ground, wondering if there are any mortals hurt. Spirit catches a glimpse of a few spirits wisping around in the rubble, a moment later. They’re of all ages, some even children, and the sight makes them wince. None of this is right, mortals shouldn’t be getting hurt like this.

What did they even do, to deserve the ire of the Demon Bull King? Anything? Or is this all meaningless rage, directed at someone weaker, someone who can’t fight back?

A hand, reaching down towards them, grasping them by the neck and pulling them up, up, up. They kick their legs but their feet touch nothing, and the spoon comes in closer, and it digs, down, down, down—

Spirit takes a breath. There’s no point in letting the past cling.

They would say something, maybe say hello and distract Demon Bull king from adding the to death toll, but that would just get them killed. And Spirit has never been the one to step in and save someone. They’ve never been a hero, not when it counts.

Demon Bull King looks neither fluffy nor kind. It seems that, just like with Princess Iron Fan, time has hardened whatever fluffiness he had. It was as if the mountain had pressure cooked the lid on his temper, letting the anger boil over into the carnage below. And while the rage may have been….justifiable, almost, it still makes Spirit turn tail and run to the memory of stomping feet and angered roars that never were stopped by their mom’s pleads.

They duck away just as a newcomer arrives, weilding a very identifiable staff. Spirit doesn’t catch who the newcomer is, exactly, but it has to be Monkey King, right? Who else could wield the staff?

They scamper off to the sounds of a battle they don’t want to be in the middle of, passing by Red Son on the ground. The sight makes them slow their escape, stopping to kneel besides him for a brief moment. He groans, hardly conscious, and they place a bottle of healing balm in one of his jacket pockets for later, before they finally make it out of the battle range.

They don’t see how the fight ends, but they know Demon Bull King certainly didn’t win.

Town reconstruction is pretty quick. They haven’t caught up on all the different technological advancements mortals have managed in a thousand years, but last they checked this sort of damage would have taken years to fix, not just a month.

Mortals are pretty crafty in this day and age. Spirit doesn’t exactly interact with all the new technology because it all seems to change so fast. They interact with humans every once in a while, maybe a week at a time every few months, but they watch from the sidelines more often than not. They’ve been called a wallflower before and it seems fitting. They like watching the world pass by, and every time they think about joining the parade, the procession is moving too fast for them to feel safe jumping in.

It’s after a few days of scaling the rooftops of the newly rebuilt town, finding the lost spirits, and helping them fade into the underworld, that they get a summons. Being the wanderer they are, most clans who know of them give them a token of sorts, one that they can use to notify Spirit when said clan is in need of their assistance. They keep them on hand, hidden in their pocket.

Sometimes they’ll jump around to hear the different tokens clack against each other. It’s a fun sound.

They pull out their keychain of many, many tokens, and find the glowing one.

Ah. The Demon Bull Family.

Spirit considers ignoring it, but that would likely not end well, considering Demon Bull King’s newly-demonstrated-and-somehow-worse-than-before temper. So, they sigh, and press the glowing red eyes of the bull token, letting the pull of the call teleport them to where they need to be.

They appear beneath the looming figure of the Demon Bull King, and they quickly bow, before looking up with an anxious smile.

“Hello, sir,” they greet with a tiny wave. “It’s nice to see you again! I was pretty sad when I heard you were sealed away, so it’s nice that you’re out.”

They bite their lip, hard, to stop themselves from saying anything else.

Princess Iron Fan is sitting on Demon Bull King’s shoulder, and Red Son is at Demon Bull King’s feet, looking...uncomfortable. Spirit glances at him and smiles. Red Son remains stoic, silent, and upset.

It makes them wonder, because they remember Demon Bull King being able to tell if Red Son was in a bad mood just by how he wrote in his letters, always sure to tell Spirit to bring an extra something or other if the latest letter had revealed Red Son’s dour mood. How Demon Bull King can look at Red Son now and ignore the clear signs of sadness that are written in the red lines beneath Red Son’s eyes, the rage that comes from hurt that paints the tight set of Red Son’s shoulders, the frustration that reads in Red Son’s clenched fists, Spirit doesn’t understand. He sees it, right?

Maybe that’s just the eventuality of parents. The good ones die, or they stop pretending.

Spirit was hoping that Red Son would look happier after his father returned, instead of scared. They’d hoped things in the family would have gotten better, with Princess Iron Fan being happier and maybe kinder with her husband back at her side. But, well….being under a mountain and spat back out into the world thousands of years after is probably quite the culture shock.

Spirit worries. Red Son only has two eyes. Losing one won’t be as easy as it was for them, starting with four. If it comes to that, of course.

“Spirit,” Demon Bull King’s voice rumbles, far darker than it used to be.

It always had a baritone timber, but now everything is said with an undercurrent of a growl, as if he’s angry before anyone has even done anything.

It reminds Spirit of their father way too much. But that’s...fine.

“We have another favor to ask of you,” Princess Iron Fan continues for her husband. “We want you to steal Monkey King’s staff.”

Spirit opens their mouth to say yes, of course, as they always do, but then the words sink in, and everything comes to a screeching halt.

“What?” Is what comes out of their mouth, incredulous and terrified. “No-I can’t-how could I even lift it? Isn’t it a million pounds? I thought only Monkey King could wield it!” Their tail wraps so tightly around their leg that it hurts, as they tremble in place and refuse to look Princess Iron Fan nor Demon Bull King in the eye.

Red Son’s face shifts from neutral displeasure to panic, at Spirit’s refusal, before he steps forward.

“The gauntlet you brought materials for will fit you fine,” He holds it out, even as Spirit recoils. “It gives the wearer the ability to lift Monkey King’s staff.”

Spirit scrambles to argue back, again, because they can’t do this, is everyone here crazy? Sun Wukong isn’t someone they can sneak around, or talk around, or use a favor around. He’s a being that has gone up against the Gods, fought them head on, and won. The only person who could beat him was the Buddha himself, and the Buddha could only seal him away. Spirit isn’t strong, they’re just crafty and careful, and neither of those things matter when going against the Monkey King. Even if they managed to grab the staff, Monkey King would catch them before they took two steps away from him.

They’re so dead. Their hands clutch at their face as they try to control their panicked breathing. They blink a few times to focus and swing their arms out towards the Demon Bull family as everything bursts out of them.

“I-I can’t fight the Monkey King, though! He beat you, the Demon Bull King! I couldn’t even-how could I—” They’re rambling, half terrified they’re going to be killed for saying anything in dissent to the request, but far more paralyzed by the idea of fighting the Monkey King of all people.

Monkey King has not met them and owes them nothing, which is worse than if he hated them and owed them something. They don’t know what he’d do to them, if they met, but they know that they like being alive.

And fighting Sun Wukong is a good way of making yourself not alive.

“The Monkey King has chosen a successor. A mortal boy,” Princess Iron Fan explains. “He’ll be far less skilled, and far easier to overpower.”

Spirit bites back the argument that if that were the case, Demon Bull King would have won when he returned. Clearly, they’re being used as a pawn, and they don’t mind that usually, because it doesn’t always lead to them being put in the line of fire. And hey, pawns are pretty useful, right? They like being useful. But—

“How old is he?” They have to ask. It’s important.

“A mortal,” Princess Iron Fan says. “He could be no older than Red Son, in mortal years.”

Red Son is younger than they are. Red Son is a kid.

“No.” Their voice is sharp.

Red Son takes a step back, unused to the tone. Even Princess Iron Fan goes still.

Spirit doesn’t have a lot of lines in the sand. They’ll do just about anything for just about anyone. Just about, though, and they refuse to falter on this.

Ten years old and curled on the ground, clutching their face as their father roared, feeling the emptiness in their skull because he took it, he took it and it hurts—

“I don’t fight kids,” they say. “I don’t. The successor has to be a kid, right? Smaller than Red Son, and Red Son isn’t all adult, right?”

“I am an adult!” Red Son shrieks in outrage, but Spirit has tripped too far into terror to stop talking.

“I’ve been told the mortal brain doesn’t develop until one is twenty five, and Red Son isn’t at that age, right? Not with the way demons like us age, anyway. So, I can’t! I have a rule,” they shrug a little helplessly.

Oh god what are you doing you’re going to get killed shut up stop talking stop stop stop—

“And besides, you think I can beat someone who can go toe to toe with the Demon Bull Family?” they laugh, a little hysterical and shaky.

Spirit glances up and regret it, because Demon Bull King’s face is dark with rage. Red Son keeps staring at them like they’re already dead, and Princess Iron Fan’s eyes glow. They feel very, very small here, shoulders hunched up as they manage something that could be described as a smile if you didn’t know what a smile was.

Useless, Useless. If you keep messing up, maybe you’ll finally have a normal number of eyes, and wouldn’t that be funny?

“H-hey-I’m not a miracle worker! But I can give you some information, anyway. There are a lot of powerful artifacts you could use, I know where they are!” Spirit offers, voice shaking.

They fidget, staring up and waiting for the other shoe to drop. On them, or in their favor, either way. They can run anytime. They wouldn’t get far, they know, but they have to try in that situation, don’t they?

Demon Bull King’s eyes glow, a snarl on his face that curls up his lip to reveal sharp teeth the size of Spirit’s arm. Spirit trembles, and watches as Princess Iron Fan considers them, eyes glowing as well, before she pats a hand against Demon Bull King’s head and whispers something into his ear.

Spirit expects an axe a moment later, but instead—

“An acceptable proposal,” Princess Iron Fan says, finally.

Spirit manages to stay upright, so relieved they might just pass out. They won’t be dying today, probably. That’s good! Cool. Nice.

They’re mad at you. Can’t you feel it? You have to run, before they can catch you. Remember what happened last time? You can’t expect this to turn out well. Keep on guard.

They tug on their sleeves, shuffling their feet. Cool.

“So, to start, I would suggest the Jade Dragon blade,” they start, without prompting. “It’s in the manor outside of town. It’s an ancient blade passed down from the Dragon of the West Sea! Very powerful.”

They continue to prattle on about any and all artifacts they can think of that would be useful, from the blade all the way up to the weird blue power source locked up in a tomb that no one touches for some reason.

Spirit had gone to check it out, once, but looking at it made their eye, the lonely one without its pair, hurt. So they left it alone.

They talk for about an hour before they’re relieved, and they nearly trip over themselves in their haste to get out of there. They run in one direction until their legs burn, and curl into a ball on the ground, trying to breathe.

They said no. To Demon Bull King. They can’t just do that, they don’t have that type of power! That whole fiasco had to have shaved a favor or two of protection off of their tally. They’ll have to edit that in their book, when their hands stop shaking enough to be able to write.

It’s fine. It’s fine! They handled it, like they always do.

They’re going to come after you and take your eyes. They don’t even need a spoon. Demon Bull King’s claw will work just fine, it’s large enough. Or maybe they’ll use one of Red Son’s inventions, to make it more painful.

Spirit fights the urge to scream and buries their face in their knees. Deep breaths.

It takes them a few hours to calm down and they meticulously erase two tallies from Demon Bull King’s count. There’s still five left, they still have room for error, it’s fine. Sure, the sight makes their stomach churn and they hate to erase, but they have to. It’s better to know where you stand than to pretend, no matter how scary the truth is.

Satisfied, they tuck the book away and lay back, staring up at the stars.

They should really check out the town, though. The idea that Sun Wukong of all people has a successor is near ludicrous, but Princess Iron Fan probably wouldn’t lie to them. Either way, checking it out is imperative, especially since such a newcomer means a possible new client!

If Monkey King has a successor, maybe Spirit can be of assistance, can offer a favor. Just like with how a favor for Red puts them in the good graces with his parents, the same may be able to be said for Monkey King and his successor. And if that’s the case, then they’ll stop at nothing to make it so.

Maybe, if they plan this right, Spirit can finally be safe from everyone.

They have to try, right?

#kitkat1003 #Yin Spirit #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #monkie kid oc

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