#becks the gunk

[yki-dolls]

Some characters from some games I like :)

The rusty lake games are genuinely my favourite game series ever, and I preordered the harvey plush :3

[Speedpaint]

Commissions open

[amethyst-wind-uk]

I played through The Gunk yesterday, and I really like how Rani and Becks' domestic played out throughout the story.

It's also just a genuinely fun game, so go play it. See below for more thoughts.

Starts off as Becks giving faux exasperation to her girlfriend (wife?) ignoring practical concerns to indulge her wanderlust. Obviously an argument they'd had many times. No real malice there.

Moves onto Becks still staying calm but recognising that the danger has increased, and asking Rani to come back for a little bit so they can talk through their next steps.

Then she starts getting genuinely annoyed when Rani keeps going into the unknown.

After that, Becks finds something that could allow her to solve their practical problems so starts egging Rani on but in a pushy way.

Then Rani does something incredibly unsafe and out of Becks' comfort zone, and that's when she starts yelling.

Rani doubles down and goes to do something not just unsafe but ACTIVELY dangerous (for good reasons, but still with very little information and no plan) and Becks outright tells her not to do it.

Rani ignores that, so Becks goes for a drive/fly to calm down. When she doesn't hear from Rani, she goes into full panic and tries to find her.

Once they're reunited, Becks apologises and recontextualises her side of the argument as something she'd hidden from Rani being the real issue and she was misdirecting her stress at Rani. Rani then offers to take some of that stress and get more involved instead of leaving the day-to-day details to Becks, which they both agree would be a better dynamic going forwards.

Becks then agrees to help Rani with her immediate concern (the Gardener and the Gunk), which is a bonding experience for them, and they leave the planet feeling closer and in a healthier relationship with each other.

[milkywaydrabbles]

Are you still writing about kinktober? I wanted the 28th with Alucard, please, and if you can't order it anymore, sorry!

A/N: Hi anon I hope you enjoy this! I got distracted halfway through and nearly forgot the prompt and just started writing smut whoops lol but I hope you like the lil drabble mwuah!

CW: handjob, pet names, cum, pussyjob (kind of?), subby Alucard idk what to tell you.

Panties/Lingerie x Alucard

It was a long day. It was a long, unforgiving day. Alucard had been all over the village, practically at the beck and call of the people. All for rather silly instances, but he helped nonetheless. He felt as if he needed to repay a debt his father had with humanity. But today? Was a long fucking day. And to top it all off there was a (very minor!) night creature attack. It was easy enough to deal with, but what he wasn’t anticipating was being covered in monster guts as he walked through the doors of his castle. He groaned, trying his best to get all the extra gunk off before treading through the corridors. 

“Adrian? Are you home?” Ah, his saving grace. You popped your head out of the bedroom with a look of concern plastered on your face. “Oh honey, what happened?” Alucard sighed, furrowing his brows and shaking his head. “I promise, you don’t want to know.” You gave him a sympathetic smile before taking a (clean?) hand and leading him to the bathroom. “Come on, come take a bath and I’ll give you a nice relaxing massage when you’re done, how does that sound?” He could have melted at the thought. “It sounds heavenly, darling. Thank you.” He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek before scurrying into the bathroom the scrub his skin raw. You on the other hand, had a few different ideas in mind before he got out.

After a much needed extensive bath, Alucard finally felt at peace in being in his own skin. After wringing out his hair and wrapping a towel around his hips, he returned back to the room ready to be able to relax with his love. “Darling, if you’re too tired you don’t--oh.” You stopped him dead in his tracks with what you were wearing. There you were in all your glory, wearing one of his favorite lingerie sets--a wine red teddy, with a lace snake applique and mesh covering your chest. You wore the matching panties, a rather small and useless g-string that barely covered your front let alone your back. You looked at him so innocent, sitting back on your knees with candles lit and oil on the nightstand, as if you dressed in such attire was normal. “Come lay down, love.” You patted the bed scooting back as he walked over to you in a daze. “What’s all this?” He gestured to you, smirk plastered on his face. You shrugged. “You look like you had a stressful day, I want to give you a massage. Is that so bad?” 

Oh, you tricky little minx. 

Alucard chuckled and let you have your fun, laying down on his stomach to give you access. “Thank you, sweetheart. You don’t have to do this.” The implication was deeper than the massage, but you pushed forward. “Oh hush, just enjoy this.” you applied a fragrant eucalyptus essential oil to your hands to warm it up before working at his shoulders and neck. You rubbed and dug into his muscles, loosening up any of the knots you could feel. Alucard practically moaned under your touch, melting into the bed more and more with each knot released. “Feel good?” you giggled when he nodded, working down lower towards his back. Knuckles dug into the muscle, working through the stress until he was more pliable underneath you. You leaned down and kissed the back of his neck as you continued to work at his back. You went at it for a solid twenty minutes before you tapped on his back and asked him to turn around. “Come on, gotta work at your chest too.” was your excuse, and continued to play your little game. Alucard turned with a smile and you went to straddle him. “Helps with leverage” You’d say, throwing him a cheeky little smile and warmed up more oil in your hands before working the same way on his shoulders and down his chest. 

You really were just massaging him, innocent, like you said you would. So imagine his surprise when you leaned and started kissing on his neck and nipping, hands trailing down to his groin. His eyes shot open (when did he close them?) and made an indignant sound from his throat. “Shh, honey, let me take care of you. You did so much today.” You cooed, shimmying down and unwrapping the towel he still had on--the only thing he had on. Alucard’s breathing hitched as oiled hands grabbed onto his now half hard cock, pumping him fully. His hands hovered over your hips, unsure if he should even stop--even if just to admire you. “Darling..” He whispered, hips thrusting into your hand when you gripped him a bit firmer. You leaned back, slowly and deliberately jerking his cock, the lingerie set on fully display now. 

“God, you know how much I love when you wear that set.” He groaned out, eyes fluttering as he watched you through his lashes. The way your tits looked in the sheer cups drove him wild. They looked so delicious, leaving nothing to the imagination and yet it was a beautiful surprise. He especially loved the detailing on the snakes, trailing up your body making you look like the goddess he always envisioned you to be. The panties were just wide enough to cover your pussy, however just as sheer--and now darkened with a wet patch of your arousal. He wanted to lick and suck your cunt of your juices. But the way you looked like an ethereal being, pumping his dick and your eyes half lidded stopped him in his tracks. You took your time, fingers smearing his precum over the shaft, free hand cupping his balls. Adrian shut his eyes tight, stifling back a groan and trying his damndest to stop himself from shooting a load so quick. But the vision of you in that lingerie set was burned into his retinas, and not even closing his eyes would help him when you still looked just as good in his memory. “F-Fuck, sweetheart, I won’t last if you keep going.” His hands tightened on the sheets of the bed, fucking himself up into your hand. “You don’t have to, Adrian. I want you to cum for me, please honey.” Your words sounded so sickeningly sweet, like molasses dripping from your tongue. You opened your mouth and let a glob of your saliva drip down to the tip of his reddened cock, trailing his shaft and giving you more lube to slicken up his cock. Your hand increased in speed, flicking your wrist for better motion.

Adrian’s mouth hung open, trying with all his might to keep his eyes on you. It felt so undeniably good, he was lost in the pleasure of it all. You took the look in his eyes as being distracted, and suddenly your clothed pussy was pressed against his dick, and Adrian felt all the heat radiating from that tight little cunt that he knew to be his and his alone. “Fuck.” Was all he could say before shooting thick ropes of cum onto the red teddy, cum reaching as high as covering your tits, spilling over your stomach and dripping onto your pussy. His cock twitched in your hand as you milked him dry, smearing the cum on his head directly onto the sheer panties, sight of it having him shooting one last spurt into the fabric. His head hit the pillow, trying to catch his breath. Alucard took one last peak at you, rubbing his cum into the fabric and scooping up a particularly large glob right onto your tongue and swallowing. The sight of it was getting him hard again.

“I’ll take good care of you, honey.” You promised, before pulling the panties off to the side and rubbing your cunt right on his hardening cock. You weren’t done with him, and if he were being honest with himself, the way you were looking in that set he wasn’t going to be done with you for a few more hours.

[theygotlost]

austin's awesomesauce playlist masterpost 2.0!

Fandom

Samuel Vimes (Discworld)

Soul Music (Discworld)

Moist von Lipwig × Adora Belle Dearheart (Discworld)

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Zaphod Beeblebrox (THHGTTG)

Disco Elysium

Golden Kamuy

Black Sails

Catch-22

(loosely inspired by) Malcolm in the Middle

My OCs

Caoimhe Bishop (Sentimental Value)

Bishop × Harper toxic yuri

Prudence, Julius, & Oleander

Dex

Genre

💥 The Punch - Alt/dark pop

🎸 The Crunch - Contemporary energetic garage rock. it's fast, it's fun, and most importantly, it's CRUNCHY

🚀 The Gunk - Early Beck and similar. the idiosyncratic blend of indie folk, electronic, and white boy hip hop unique to the Y2K era

🎹 Piano Party - Power pop with a boogie piano flair

💎 - Contemporary blues rock

🎺 - Funk, soul & blues faves (classic and contemporary)

🌟 - Fun synth/dance pop (mostly female artists)

👽 - Electro/hyperpop/EDM

💅 - Cunty rap by women

☣ - Industrial/hardcore rap

🤘 - Rap rock/metal

Artist Compilations

Best of TMBG - All my favorites by They Might Be Giants

Doomtree Mastermix - All my favorites by Doomtree and its members (P.O.S., Dessa, Mike Mictlan, Sims, and Cecil Otter)

Seasonal

🎃 - Halloween mix

Merry Crisis - For a silly and irreverent Xmas

In the Bleak Midwinter - A more somber and reflective Christmas observance

Bonus

They're Pretty Underground, You Probably Haven't Heard of Them - A collaborative collection of our favorite obscure artists. Feel free to ask me for a new collaboration link if it won't let you contribute!

Hot Swingin' Mommas - A reconstrution of a mixtape my dad burned in the early oughts. features some lesser known female indie singers

[sixthfool]

where is the hype for this game

(spoilers for the gunk) capitalism slowly destroying the universe, told through the story of some incredibly flawed main characters RANI IS THE REASON YOU PUT YOUR MASK ON FIRST IN AN AIRPLANE BEFORE HELPING SOMEONE ELSE istg becks is the type of person to shake and cry while putting her mask on because she's watching rani run around the plane trying to save everyone else before even looking at her own mask. becks is older, more experienced, and smarter than rani. she knows to save herself FIRST because you can't save someone if you're dead. so while becks is trying to repair the ship, find a food source, get fuel, fix their ship, RANI IS RUNNING OFF FOLLOWING HER HEROIC PIPE DREAM AND ALMOST GETTING HERSELF KILLED. only when rani is alone with no one to talk to does she realize that she's stubborn and irresponsible.

[100yearoldcomics]

August 8, 1922 Krazy Kat by George Herriman

[ID: Ignatz Mouse stands in front of Kolin Kelly's Brick Yard, staring at a sign posted on the front door that reads, "CLOSED. No Bricks Today." /end] Ignatz: Dawgunnit, my whole day is ruined.

[ID: Ignatz, startled, turns around to see Krazy Kat walking up behind him with a brick in his hand. /end] Ignatz: Hoh, bless my heart, there's the old kid himself. With a "brick," too. Krazy: Tata, taaa, roppa top tup.

[ID: Ignatz hands a large coin to an overjoyed Krazy, who hands over the brick. /end] Ignatz: I'll give you this big dollar for that brick. Krazy: You're on. [INFLATION GUIDE: Not totally sure what the exchange rate for Coconino County is, but assuming they use USD, that'd be around $17.75 in 2022 dollars. /end]

[ID: Krazy admires the coin in his hand while Ignatz, behind him, takes aim. /end] Krazy: A whole dolla, golla, wotta lotta money for a mere "brick," l'il Jenny Rossity wot him is. Ignatz: H-hah. Wait till he finds out that that dollar is made of lead.

[ID: Ignatz ZIPs the brick at the back of Krazy's head, striking it with a YOP and sending him flying forward. He drops the coin. /end] Krazy: Oh-ho. He sends the "brick" beck, I guess he din't like it.

Krazy: Money beck if not setisfied is my motta. [ID: Krazy ZIPs the lead coin back at Ignatz's head, striking with a GUNK and sending him flying forward with x'ed out eyes. /end]

[tittadetroit]

The gunk scannable objects

The extra stuff you scan, the extra upgrades you finally unlock. At first, the sport virtually appears to be following the identical house tracks left by video games like No Man’s Sky, tasking you with scanning the native crops for information and scavenging for sources to be able to improve your energy glove. You play as Rani, who ventures out to wash up the titular gunk and examine that unusual power sign whereas Becks retains watch again at base. The Gunk is a visible feast from begin to end, even when the panorama is being eaten alive by its grasping goop. There is a witty playfulness to their dialogue that makes them a enjoyable pair to hang around with over the course of this five-hour planet hop, and I hope we get to see them and their barely borked yellow supply bot Curt (whose solely line is an more and more mangled however endearing take of “You’ve got bought served!”) get one other outing within the years to come back. Language apart, Rani and Becks make for an affable duo, and their snappy and rambunctious radio chatter jogged my memory loads of Aliya and Six from Inkle’s Heaven’s Vault. Other than just a few cheeky Easter egg nods in Rani and Becks’ ship, this can be a standalone journey that will be nice to play with the children over Christmas if it weren’t for the occasional swears. The Gunk is not associated to the SteamWorld universe. There’s quite a bit to love about this 3D motion platformer, however it’s lacking that spark to actually make it sing. That mentioned, whereas Picture & Type have clearly navigated their 2D to 3D transition from an artwork perspective, their typical aptitude for including their very own spin to totally different genres has been much less profitable. If that is what they have been holding again on all these years, then their upcoming motion journey SteamWorld Headhunter must be an actual deal with for the outdated eyeballs. Regardless of its gloopy namesake, The Gunk is regularly beautiful, its gentle pastels and coral-esque flora exhibiting such an eye fixed for jaw-dropping visuals that it is arduous to imagine that is SteamWorld developer Picture & Type’s first ever 3D online game. A burst of sunshine, a shruum of sound, and the world is immediately remodeled again to its former glory. Your reward for scooping up all of the gunk in any given space is the form of graphical wizardry video video games do greatest. In spite of everything, when it turns the bottom black and saps the world of all its color, that is one case of Extraordinarily Unhealthy Vibes you will need to treatment as quickly as potential. It oozes and throbs within the caves, plains and rivers of this as soon as vibrant panorama, and the urge to suck all of it up into Rani’s chunky energy glove (a literal hand vac on this case) is overwhelmingly robust. As house haulers Rani and Becks contact down on a forgotten planet in the hunt for a wierd power sign, the place is completely gummed up with the stuff. The Gunk may not be probably the most subtle title within the universe for a gooey black jelly that pulses with an ominous purple mild, however goodness it positive is acceptable. To scan an item, approach the object then hold down RB until the scan has completed! To earn the Space Archeologists achievement, you’ll need to scan every item in The Gunk.A placing and assured 3D platformer that is an actual feast for the senses, however one which performs it very protected in comparison with Picture & Type’s extra ingenious SteamWorld video games. Below are all the scannable objects found in The Gunk.

[invisiblesteamer]

I finally started playing the Gunk!

One thing can be said for sure about Becks and Rani - they are huge Steamworld fans.

There’s not just this excellent little Rusty figurine (I want one).

There’s this poster featuring Piper, Dora and Seabrass.

There’s this Valentine poster. There’s actually two of these, one on a door and one on the wall above the top bunk bed.

There’s this t-shirt featuring enemies from Quest. (It’s kind of hard to see in-game - I had to up the brightness and contrast a lot to get a clear look at it!)

And there’s this calender! With some very blurry Dig 1 sprites and the text says “Steamworld Dig” in Japanese.

I absolutely love these kind of in-joke easter eggs.

[ra-ttdrp]

All the broken puzzle pieces

Dr. Ra:

I look over what Tulsix was able to send me overwhelmed, I was so tired but sleeping would just bring on the Infectious nightmare and I'm forced to drug myself further to numb the worms. The worms naturally keep my body functioning so it makes me far more sicker again then if they we're working in there to keep me alive. A few days of constant work on it, visiting the babies for more blood going towards Nala (and Dathan's) poisoning. Checking on Gwen's recovery, hearing Marcellus complain though his condition wasnt as bad as everyone's else. I still had to come to his beck and call. I twitch having been caught walking down the hall to go see test results in another lab. He demanded when Caelus could be treated next. Its been a few days... I still wasnt sure.. it was..ready. I decided not to update the first machine, instead make a new machine. We might need the old machine for .. for..

I try to remember what Infection was left.. somewhere..

I felt so numbed to them now I couldn't even remember.

(Marcellus): "WHEN is Caelus going to be wok-"

(Michael): "You complain more then my granddaughter.." He tisks at Marcellus coming back from visiting Gwen.

(Marcellus): "Michael! Enough games! Where is he!?"

(Michael): "You cant visit him and get infected again you know..."

(Marcellus): "What about Nala.."

(Michael): "There is no point, both are frozen and can not speak to you."

I inch away to the door feeling like I can leave now. Michael stops me to discus the research on the baby's blood. How it seemed to be positively effecting Dathen. I almost got a complement for 'making them'. But he wont give me the credit for improvement and just betrays on about the small amount of hybrid wraith in Dathan did not prove the blood could help Nala. After seeing Marcellus's DNA structure get completely changed he questioned my methods, reminding me Nala had to be RESTORED in a complete and whole manner and not in some botched way.

"Of course sire, yes sire I understand.."

I say trying to blink away any amount of focus of me being here right now.

(Michael): "AND those names.. what we're you thinking?! UGH just get out of my sight and get back to WORK!"

I wake up from my zone out picturing dirt at his scream and dart for the other room.

Sterling came back from the Trydien sector to bitch about the lost General women, Korra being gone for so long meant there is no political puppet to dangle in front of them so he wanted to get her from Tulco but learned from Uriah she was gone.

(Sterling): "Is Gwen the only who can make her hybrid trydien race?! We need those creatures nullified if she cant then give us the Declension Serum. They are just as powerful as Bain Ones."

(Borin): "We dont know if that caused the Infection or not..its dangerous..no one is allowed to use it.."

He shoots me a look and I stand there feeling more pained at them talking about my greatest 'success' / failure.

(Sterling): "We've used it for years, it did not cause that...whats the point of holding those planets if your just going to leave us with it. Isnt your son the 'king' of Ingnitcore then why is it MY problem to keep them from ripping it apart?!"

(Borin): "I dont have the time to set Nash up there if I did I would have taken care of them far better then you can and have. Get out."

(Sterling): "I'm warning you right now, my Prince if you dont act we'll loose it...."

He leaves rather begrudgingly. I guess I cant ask his help on the job, he wont be sticking around if he has to go back there.

(Peli): "I could take Nash..."

(Borin): "No stay away from that little freak..."

He hushed back at her, much to her surprise.

He then yells at me much like Michal about how I'm not doing enough or something and another.

"Its true, I haven't been able to look at Gwen's..results as much dealing with..Caelus's recovery. But I dont see much promise with her memories. You know that."

I add in, knowing he spent all this time on it. My 2nd option wouldnt be much. Well it would be if I told him the truth.. I know that's Perry's venom. So they we're there..so close..

SO. close.

(Borin): ((I think she did it to herself, its VERY selective memory loss..too selective to be natural. OR you did it..I dont believe she could make something I cant crack...))

"And I can?" I cant mindtalk this weak.

(Borin): "I taught her what she knows!" He counters back and hovers back near Gwen who woke up gaging in pain again, hugging herself if that could help the bandages keep her together in more.

I think..what Perry did wasnt meant for her. It was way to strong. He must have loaded it for Bane.. like a nuke.

(Peli): "Its nothing, nothing your stupid father is going to shut up and let you rest.. dont wake up.. go back to sleep baby."

(Gwen): "N..no I.m...o..kay.."

I stare at her trying to make myself feel ok with withholding what I knew about that. Her insides we're probably going to liquify....

*twitch*

I take a deep yet labored breath cause my lungs without the worms keeping healthy feel like a 80 year old man who smoked his way out of a paper bag. The guilt was to much, I grab Gwen's blood samples and take it to a further away lab to try to stop the liquification. I slack off my research on Caelus's cure a few more days to accomplish this. At least the machine was being worked on, it was on a ship so it could be easily thrown into the sun just in case I also wanted the two way transfer to become a one way transfer..somewhere to be destroyed forever but I wasnt sure yet how to accomplish that. Break it into something compacted like dart yet I had a sickening sort of feeling to that for some reason. Then of course there was general transporter error.

Some day *is too drugged out and overworked to know the day of the year details* ;)

I'm on the Infected hive trying not to puke blood in my hazard suit trying to stay in attention for a meeting.

I prattle on my progress of the machine, well the hybrids building it cause I cant really do the manual labor, at least I got out of that. I was however doing the panel's myself that would be installed last by them when the time came.

(Soren): "How much gunk can you put on that one drone?"

"Oh..you'd be surprised how much..."

I couldn't remember now, how many on Xero...

He looks at me disgusted and focuses on the King trying to be very impressive.

(Soren): "Who goes in first?"

(Michael): "I will only risk Caelus's life if I must... if anyone goes in the new machine it will be Julian.."

"Will you allow me to try to break the buffer so there is no sacrifice?"

(Michael): "Do you think that's wise when this is the most important run though..if he turns out human it will be far better then any alternative."

"Of course.."

I try not to panic, I dont want to even imagine what the drone would be like with..all that.

My health decline for the last few days was now too apparent. The King ordered the only Lyratsian he had trusted, Dr. Quasar's specimen clone from the Safar Zoo to look over more calculations for Julian strain machine. Since whatever he did to himself to have infection full control must have went over my head and been some Lysterian secret.

(Quasar): "I am SO honored for another chance your majesty."

(Michal): "Just get on with it.." He shoos her away and I would have liked to see such a famous scientist at work checking the machine but .. passes out smacking into wall on the way down.

[imagine-loki]

Helmet Heists

TITLE: Helmet heists

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One-shot

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine “borrowing” Loki’s helmet to wear for a full day on a dare. The inside is unbelievably sweaty, and you can’t tell if the extra goo is hair gel or mousse, but a dare is a dare.

Loki walks up to see his helmet wobbling precariously on your head. “(Name), what are you doing?”

“Hunting bilgesnipe,” you retort. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

RATING: T

NOTES/WARNINGS: I’ve been on a kick of writing these one-shots as snapshots in the friendship of Loki and Becca because, why not? Tonight I felt like he needed a friend, so I made a funny, fluffy, friendly fic. Some language, dubious timelines (who even cares, honestly?) and Loki I-don’t-know-how-to-make-friends Odinson moments.

=

“Come on, Becks! You took the dare and now you have to deliver,” Sam teased. He was sitting on the benchtop of one of her lab tables, being a general nuisance. As always. Though she loved the man (and his absurd confidence), he had the uncanny ability of getting on her nerves (probably also because of his absurd confidence). At least he was a handy and willing test subject for her new inventions, as well as a decent ’here, hold this’ assistant.

Beside him, Rebecca was bent over a small circuit board and motor, adjusting the tension of some screws with the same precision a heart surgeon would pay to open-heart surgery. Behind her darkened UV goggles, she rolled her eyes, though he could not see. She had a feeling he could feel her expression. “Absolutely not, Sam.”

“The forfeit is much worse and you know it.”

“The forfeit won’t get me a dagger through the heart.” She paused, blowing the fringe out of her face and tilting up just enough to look at him. “Actually, that might not be true. He might stab me, either way. 

This was ridiculous. Why had she even agreed to this stupid dare? Oh, right. She had been drunk as all hell when the challenge had been proposed. They had all been drunk, to be fair, but they seemingly had the fortitude of mind to remind her of this little adventure once the hangover had subsided.

Stupid superheroes and their stupid alcohol tolerance!

Sam snorted, lifting a single eyebrow at her. "Not with a dagger, he wouldn’t.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively to make her groan. “Come on, not even Prince Sourpuss could resist you a cutie like you laying one on him.”

“One, you’re disgusting, Sam. Two, I’m pretty sure kissing someone out of the blue is assault and I doubt he’d enjoy it.” Becca pushed him until he scooted down the line. “Three, you’re in my workspace. Please get lost.”

“Not before you get that helmet.”

The automatic doors hissed open, making them both look up. Tony was striding in with a grin on his face. He either had very good or very bad intentions. “Where’s the helmet, Buttercup?”

“Please, no,” she groaned. Of course, he would be here to pester her, too. Becca fought the urge to throw something in Tony’s direction–it had been he who set the dare.

“You took the dare! It’s the law!” He grimaced playfully. “And I’m morbidly curious as to whether or not he would try to kill the only person he tolerates in the tower as revenge. Think of it as research.”

The doors hissed open again. “Lady Becca, do you need assistance procuring my brother’s helmet?”

“For fuck’s sake! I am trying to work! You know, the stuff you pay me to do,” she jabbed a finger in Tony’s direction, “and y'all need me to do to survive on missions?” She gestured the other two with a frown.

Bruce rushed into the lab, glancing over his shoulder every couple of steps. “I think Loki just went to the gym, if you want to go grab the stuff.”

Becca’s mouth set into a grim line. All the faces looking down at her were clearly ecstatic to see how this dare would play out. If she didn’t know any better she would say they didn’t much care for her to continue breathing. When the expectant looks turned pleading, she rolled her eyes, pulling off the black nitrile gloves she had been wearing and tossing them into the bin beside the bench. Her goggles met the lab bench a second later.

Throwing open a drawer, she fished out a metal vambrace, a hybrid between Tony’s plasma-shooting gauntlets and Peter’s webshooters. Slipping it over her right hand, she flexed her fingers experimentally, enjoying the crackle of static that came from her fingers at he action. If she was walking into the lion’s den, she definitely wasn’t doing it without some sort of protection.

“Keep Loki in the gym. I’ll be in and out in twenty.”

Thor grinned huge, nodding enthusiastically before following her out into the hallways. While he turned towards the gym, she turned up to the emergency staircase. She took the stairs by pairs and allowed herself a second to catch her breath at the landing. Quietly, she sneaked towards the back of the east wing, hyperaware of all the noises around her.

It wasn’t that she was scared of Loki, volatile and moody as he was, it was… no… that was a lie… she was scared. It was well justified fear. Becca had once witnessed Loki skewer three opponents with a single dagger after one of them ripped his leather armor. He was very particular about his things. And though she was on friendly terms with the man (as friendly as anyone could ever be with the surly demigod), she wouldn’t put a light stabbing past him for “borrowing” his stuff.

The door to his rooms was unlocked, strangely enough. No one ever came back here, save for Thor, so it made sense that Loki did not bother with security measures. The inside was impeccably organized–all right angles and open spaces. The only cramped area seemed to be the towering bookcases, packed to the brim with leather-bound tomes that looked well-loved. As much as Becca wished she could dilly-dally and peruse titles, the voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she only had so much time before she had to disappear from the premises.

Slipping towards the bedroom, she stepped towards the old-fashioned wardrobe. Opening the dark wood door, she spied the helmet resting on its own shelf a little above her eye line. Reaching up, she pulled it from its resting place, letting a startled huff leave her lips as the unexpected weight pulled her arms down.

“How the hell does he even keep this on his head?” She wondered aloud, testing the heft of the golden horns with a frown.

Turning the helmet over, she peaked inside, pulling a face instantly. She should have expected–it was a piece of battle armor, after all. But as clean as he kept his room, she would have thought he cared equally for his armor. On the inside of the golden horns there were smudges and glistening patches of salt from dried sweat. A mysterious thick substance lingered at the very bottom. Was it gel? Was it oil? Something else entirely? She shuddered to think its true composition. A good wipe down was key before attempting to put the helmet anywhere near her face.

The lab was all abuzz as Becca stepped back inside, helmet bobbing at her side as she held it by a horn. Tony whooped at the sight, strangely ecstatic about the fact that she was to have the horns on all day. She worried she might need a neck brace when she was done.

Sitting at her bench, she pulled a microfiber towel and the same cleaning solution she used for delicate electronics. If anything went wrong with the helmet, she was sure that she’d be murdered. A cursory wipe pulled out grime and gunk that made her (and Sam, who still had not gotten lost) gag. The cleaning solution went on and when she wiped everything away, the inside of the helmet gleamed and glistened under the bright lab lights.

“Put it on. Put it on! PUT IT ON!” Sam chanted, Bruce and Tony followed suit a moment later. Even FRIDAY overhead joined in on the childish taunting until Becca groaned, acquiescing. All she had to do was stay in the lab and finish her work. The day would be over before she knew it and she could return the helm before it was missed.

The horns were a lot more comfortable than she would have thought, for an all-metal hat. It was easy to notice the difference in size between herself and Loki, as the horns would slide back over her head whenever she moved. The garment was also incredibly heavy, to the point that she could feel herself actively straining to keep her neck from snapping to whatever direction the helmet was slipping in.

“OK, there. Are you guys happy now? Can I keep working?” Becca asked, glaring.  Her hands plucked another pair of gloves from the box, but they were quickly swiped from her hands.

“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re on the testing floor today,” Tony said, smiling.

So this was his grand idea–getting his weapons tech murdered.

“That is a hard pass. I can barely hold my head up as it is, and–”

“Testing floor. Now. That is an order.”

Becca snorted, stealing her gloves back and hunching over her workspace. “Tony, I’ve never followed your orders before. Why would I start now?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking eerily confident in himself. “Because I have hidden your Mark III for the proton gun on the testing floor and sent Peter to guard it.”

Her head snapped up and a muscle in her neck seized, making her groan while she massaged it. “You wouldn’t dare.” He simply pulled out a StarkPad and pulled the video feed of the testing floor. Becca stood up so quickly her chair toppled over. The group followed her as she ran past the lab doors and towards the testing floor.

Most of the techs had stopped tittering every time she walked past them in the insane headwear. At the very least, they had stopped throwing objects to catch on the horns, as if it were a bizarre game of horseshoes. A well-placed glare–a rare occurrence of the tech geek–had taken care of that rather quick. Becca had to admit, though, the extra height the helmet gifted her made her feel much more confident than she was. Her posture was better (though that had a lot to do with the fact that her neck was likely to break if she wasn’t ramrod straight); her speech, more formal. Thor had even remarked that she had adopted some of the mannerisms his brother often displayed.

She was sitting on a stool, adjusting some of Thor’s new smart bracelets when the room went deathly silent. Even Thor, who had been standing patiently while she turned him this way and that, stilled suddenly.

The hair on the back of Becca’s neck stood on end and she did not have to turn around to know that it was Loki currently staring daggers at her. Her hand grasped a horn to still the helmet as she tilted her head, trying to will Loki out of the room just by virtue of her thoughts.

“Rebecca, what are you doing?” The dark, smooth voice was deceptively nonchalant. Her whole arms erupted in goosebumps at the question. Oh, she was dead.

Turning her head slightly, she caught his form over her shoulder. He was dressed casually (well, casual for him), trousers and a sweater, one hand in his pocket–generally looking easy–despite the pointed intensity of his eyes.

“Hunting bilgesnipe,” she retorted, rolling her eyes. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” When she faced Thor again, he was staring back in wide-eyed panic and the feeling of dread settled in her stomach like a rock.

“I beg your pardon?” The phrase sounded a lot more like ’what the fuck did you just say?’, in her opinion.

The dare entailed for her to act like there was nothing amiss, should she be discovered by Loki during her day wearing the helmet. Right about now, she thought the idea was the stupidest thing she had ever agreed to.

“I’m just helping Thor with some gear.” Somewhere in the background Peter was chanting ’oh no’ over and over. “Is there something you need?”

A long stretch of silence followed the question. In her head, Becca supposed he was wondering whether to murder her now, in front of all these people, or later, in her apartment. She had not just stolen something of his, but she was being sassy and contrary–

He chuckled. “I suppose my business can wait. I’ll sit with the Spiderboy while you finish.”

“OK. Sounds good,” she replied, though her voice choked half-way through. She mouthed ’he’s going to kill me at Thor’, swiping her index finger over her neck to drive the point home. Thor merely blinked back at his brother, confused.

Becca procrastinated as long as it was physically possible. She had gone over the same specs so many times, that she could predict the radiation readings for every type of spark Thor could make. The god of Thunder smiled wryly, trying to be encouraging as he stepped away. He patted her shoulder, giving a light squeeze before leaving her workstation. The sensation of being watched surged, once more, and Loki had taken Thor’s place before her.

Glancing upwards, she offered him a shy smile in hopes of some sort of emotion breaking through his poker face. “What’s on your mind, Loki?”

He fought against a smile as he sat across from her, tossing his Stark mobile phone at her. “Seems to have frozen again. Do you mind taking a look?”

Becca tutted under her breath, swiping through the root directory, happy to be focusing on absolutely anything else. “I keep telling Tony his software doesn’t do well with your seidr, but he keeps not listening.” She had to react quickly to the horns slipping forward.

Balancing it back in a somewhat comfortable position, she continued to tinker away. When she shifted, her instinct was to guard the helmet, again, but found that where it had been too big and burdensome a moment before, it was now resting comfortably and snug on her head. Her blood ran cold and her fingers stilled.

“Anything the matter?” There was a laugh in his voice now and it was somehow worse than if he were mad. He had not been titled the God of Mischief for being a dear.

“No. Just thinking,” she fibbed, though she knew it was useless.

“Did you get a haircut?” When she cut her eyes up, he was resting his chin on his open palm, elbow propped on the table. His eyes sparkled with amusement. “No? There’s something different about you, I just can’t put my finger on it.” He brushed the fingers of his free hand over the sleeve of her t-shirt. “New top?”

“Er… nope. Nothing different. Nothing at all,” she squeaked. There was a lingering sensation to his touch, a strange tingle. Her fingers challenged themselves to a speed-run of rebooting his phone. The sooner he had no reason to be around her, the better it would be. He already knew she had stolen his helmet, which was the point of the dare. She would go straight up to his room after work and grovel for forgiveness, if needed. Cell phone restarted, she handed it back to him with a tight-lipped smile. “There we go. Ready to roll.”

Loki grinned, taking back the phone. “Thank you very much, Rebecca. You’re possibly the only good and true mortal in this prison!.” He rose from his seat, only to turn back about ten paces later. “Oh, darn. It seems to have gone again.” When she focused on his hands, there was a green glow over the screen.

“Oh, fucking hell,” she growled out through clenched teeth.

“Is there a problem, dear?”

She took a deep breath to relax and forced a smile. “Not at all, Loki.”

Becca reached for the phone, only to let out a yelp when he closed his fingers around her wrist. “New necklace. That’s it, isn’t it?” He was enjoying this game far too much.

“Why? Just… why?” She cried, pitifully, her meaning obvious. Loki merely shrugged and chuckled, releasing her hand from his grasp and assuming his original position. She set back to the task of rebooting his phone. Halfway through, she stopped, tilting her head curiously, recalling the glow a moment prior. “Does your phone crash a lot?”

“Every now and again,” he responded carefully. “As you said, Stark does not listen to recommendations.”

It was true, Becca had mentioned several times how Loki’s phone would inexplicably freeze while he was using it. Tony had assured her that there was nothing interfering with the phone, other than Loki wanting to be a bother. She also knew that he had not been at their evening of pizza and beer the night before, claiming to have better things to do.

She resumed her work, moving her fingers steadily over the holographic screen. “Do you like to read? I keep looking for book trade buddies, but they are in short supply on Stark tower.”

The turn in conversation took him aback. “Oh, er, well… yes.”

“Cool! I have lots of history and historic fiction–it seems your style. I also have a good mystery and fantasy collection, if that’s more your thing.” She returned the phone with a smile. “I can bring some over tonight, if you want. Ooh, and Chinese food. We can make an evening of it.”

He gave a confused nod before floating away, glancing over his shoulder every so often, stopping to explain the situation in his head, and continue on.

At the back of the testing floor, Tony and Bruce looked dejected while Peter just looked relieved. They had expected significantly more shouting and flying knives from the encounter. Becca half-thought that they just wanted an excuse to pick on Loki, despite the fact he had been behaving recently. She offered a smug grin before finishing her work and heading out.

Loaded up with cartons of Chinese food and books, horns still on her head (the delivery guy had nearly died at the sight), Becca knocked on Loki’s door. He answered promptly a moment later, somewhat hesitant. She placed the books on the counter, and unpacked the food as Loki hovered anxiously out of the corner of her eye.

“I won’t bite, I promise,” she teased. Loki reluctantly came nearer the table and pulled a seat. “Oh, one last thing.” With a quick tug, she removed the horns from her head. She massaged her head and attempted to tame her hair in one motion. “I think these are yours. I must have taken them by mistake. I swear, I have the same exact pair!”

Loki laughed easily, shaking his head. “I’m sure you do. Did you win, at the very least?”

“I did. Banner was too chicken to streak down Fifth Ave.” She grabbed an eggroll and took a bite. “You should join us next time.”

He made a noise of derision. “Then how will I know what you look like in my armor?” His sarcasm flowed easily, though Becca was aware of the implication of his statement. Who would they make fun of if he showed up?

Becca smirked, rolling her eyes. “I mean, I can go put it on right now, if that’s what you want.” They both laughed at the absurdity,. “It’s OK if you don’t want to, but it’d be nice. I’d appreciate a friend there.” She held out the helm with a warm smile, eagerly diving into a box of chicken when relieved of the armor.

Loki grabbed his helmet and hefted it easily. “I’ll think about it.” He frowned. “Did you clean my helmet?”

“Of course I did, dude. That thing was nasty!” She giggled, throwing a piece of carrot at him when he scowled at her. He retaliated with a noodle. She threw an eggroll. He donned his helmet, grabbed a carton of chow mein and gave chase, laughing freely.

Tony watched as his weapons tech dashed across the hallway, her track and field training giving her a slight advantage against the long-legged Asgardian who cackled as he followed a second later. He closed his eyes and sighed. Maybe the dare had been a bad idea.

[ricky-corderbro]

It’s Raining Fish... Hallelujah ||Ricky & Morgan

Ricky and Morgan discover a new and weird twist on that disco classic, and more than they bargained for on the beach. 

Morgan decided she’d rather supplement her income by selling crystals concocted with alchemy, she imagined herself wandering sandy beaches in a heavy knit sweater that billowed around her hips like an H&M photoshoot. She’d fill neat mason jars full of sand and, stop to sip wine and stare at the crisp sky and the rolling tied, and cart her fresh, beautiful resources back to her beachfront bungalow (because of course, with the wild money making wonders of online salesmanship, there would be a beachfront bungalow) in a weathered wagon rescued from an antique store and lovingly brought to a shine. Perhaps she had needed this fantasy in order to talk herself into doing something so ridiculous in the first place. How many of her other mistakes had started with ‘this is fine’ or ‘I got this’? 

Today Morgan was sweating through her hoodie, prickling up to her knees in sand, and dodging broken debris and beached jellyfish from the rough tide. She had her picturesque mason jars, and a number of glass and plastic tupperware from Tookies, and was scrounging for any beach party scraps she could break down for packaging and flourishes. Maybe if she ever got around to breaking the curse and not worrying about her lease at the traveler’s rest, this would all feel the way it was supposed to. 

Though most of the town of White Crest tended to avoid the beaches in the middle of January, this was the time Ricky felt like he enjoyed it the most. Sunshine and beach beer was all well and good but in the middle of winter it turned into an almost alien landscape; wet sand sculpted by the frigid wind and small drifts of snow painted a picture of bleak desolation that spoke to the tremendous power of the ocean. He found himself wandering the beach with no real goal in mind. He had half an eye out for the sea glass, driftwood, and bone he used for work  but mostly it was a day to take in the salt air and try to forget the flooding and the karkinoids and the rest of White Crest’s nonsense.

As he strolled along the cold sand he saw a figure in the distance, apparently scrounging through the beach for something. It’d be rude to walk by and not say anything so as he got a little closer he waved and called out over the wind, “Morning!”

Morgan toppled out of her crouch and landed splayed in the sand. So far she had managed her supply runs without an audience, something she hadn’t realized made the whole thing less shame-inducing. But Mr. Cheerful passing by her didn’t need to know that. “Morning!” She called. “Fancy seeing you or...anyone out here, really. Aren’t you afraid of the tides?”

Ricky rushed over to the woman and offered his hand to help her up, “Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you. Brushing the sand from his hands he looked at the beach and shrugged, “As long as you know them and what they’re doing there’s nothing to fear from the tides. What about you? What brings you down here to this little slice of the Arctic?” It was a little surprising to see someone else there, but, she seemed to be looking for something, so it wasn’t the strangest thing Ricky had seen on a beach.

Morgan accepted the helping hand and wiped the excess sand from her back. “Thank you. And I’m just, you know, enjoying the scenery! Beaches look kind of picturesque when they’re wind-tossed and and brooding. It makes you feel like you’re in a Bronte novel, right?” As she spoke, the wind rose and the waves crashed forward, splashing their way rather un romantically. Morgan edged out of the splash zone, but not before the next wave reared and crested again. “So uh, what was that you said about knowing how tides are gonna work?”

“Not quite as picturesque as wandering the moors, but it has the same desolate charm. All we need is a lone rider on horseback looking pensively over the surroundings.” Ricky neatly backstepped away from the wave as it crept closer to them, “I mean… they’re on a pretty set schedule. You can always have at least a general idea of when they’re coming and going. Like now. Tide’s coming in. There’s gonna be a lot less beach in awhile.” 

The guy was right, with each wave the sea came closer to her Tookies wagon. Morgan hauled her tupperware up in one armload, then scooped a cup or so of seawater with one of her empties. There were a lot of helpful minerals in seawater and it would make her life so much easier to have them fresh on hand. “Don’t mind me, just collecting!” She said. Actually, a second jar wasn’t such a bad idea. Morgan held up a finger--just one second!--and waded up to her knees to take a good briny scoop. As she did, she knocked into something hard and heavy. “Oh, shit!” Oh god sharks swam up in high tide didn’t they? Was this what shark felt like? Or what about turtles? Had she killed a sea turtle? Did they have sea turtles in Maine? Morgan stumbled back, her errand forgotten. The tide curled away, revealing--a treasure chest? Morgan looked over at her new beach friend. Was he seeing this too?

Ricky watched with a bemused smile as his apparent new beachcomber friend waded into the surf to collect sea water. It had to have been absolutely freezing, since even he could feel the chill of the waves and he was usually fine with water that was all but frozen. He’d been in the middle of reserving a table at The Artesian for his meeting with Deidre when he heard the woman give out a shout. Fearing that some brazen karkinoid or even worse aipaloovik had crashed out of the surf he turned quickly to see her standing in front of what appeared at first to be a mammoth piece of barnacle and seaweed covered driftwood until he looked closer and saw that it was in fact, a giant chest. “The fuck?”

“Okay, so that’s not just me! Good!” Morgan looked back at the trunk. “Second question: does this happen here often? Is the kind of place where buried treasure just casually comes up over the weekend?” Morgan half expected a demon to pop out of it and go ‘boo!’ That was much more the White Crest way. But still--it was kind of exciting. She’d have to tell, well, someone about it online later. She leaned in conspiratorially.  “...Do you think we should open it?”

“Well… i’ve been on this beach regularly for 23 years and never seen anything like this so I”m gonna go out on a limb and say no. Definitely doesn’t happen often.” 23 years on the beach had, however, instilled in Ricky a healthy fear of things that just magically appeared on the sand from within the bottomless maw of the deep. He took several cautious steps toward it and hummed pensively, “On the one hand… treasure potential. On the other…. Body parts from a drug deal gone south. Seems like it could go either way, and with the week the town’s been having it doesn’t seem likely it’s that first option.”

Morgan nodded. Much as she wanted to believe she was about to fuck the universe and her stupid curse with a boatload of cash, she knew sea boy was probably right. “Okay, granted, but we should at least haul it in, right? And uh, fifty-fifty split if it’s buried treasure?” She winked, enjoying the absurdity of the wish. She crept back into the ocean to get a good angle on the thing. She was at least snapping a good picture. Hopefully it wouldn’t have to be captioned something like, taken just before Morgan Beck was eaten my mysterious sea creature! That would be a terrible way to find out krakens are real. 

Nodding pensively Ricky approached the chest to get a closer look, pulling some of the seaweed and ocean grunge off of it. He could faintly see some sort of writing carved into it, but it definitely wasn’t in any language he knew or had seen before. “Looks like there’s something carved into it.” He called as he cleared away more debris. As his fingers touched the wood of the chest he had a sudden shiver run up and down his spine, the rough wood catching on the pads of his fingers as he traced the symbols. Weird he thought to himself as he followed his new friend’s lead and started taking pictures. Definitely weird. “Of course we’ll split it fifty-fifty. If it’s treasure and not the rotted corpse of someone who crossed the mob.”

As soon as Morgan touched the trunk a wave of no clammied up her body. That was definitely not a million dollars. Or if it was, it was the kind of million dollars that made you wish you’d never seen it. But Morgan didn’t know how to explain that to beach boy. She kept her smile on and gave the trunk the ol’ heave-ho until it was out of the water. Christ almighty on a cracker this thing looked terrifying. It looked like it had been sitting at the bottom of the ocean longer than the Titanic. “Um, maybe you should do the honors!” She said. She tried not to sound like she was freaking out, like some of the gunk growing on the lid had slid inside her, but her voice jumped an octave or three as she gestured to the lid. “You got the uh, guy muscles for it, right?” So help her, if this thing was cursed…

It didn’t seem likely to Ricky that they could get the chest out of the surf and up onto the drier dirt, but somehow between the two of them they managed. Every single time he touched the chest to push it or pull it his body rebelled at the action. The truck was cold, the kind of cold he could feel in his fangs and it almost seemed to pulse with it. “This is totally why I go to the gym daily, to open strange runed treasure chests that wash up mysteriously on the beach.” He scraped more of the detritus off, shivering with every touch of the chest. “Have you ever seen this writing before? I may speak three languages but they all use the same alphabet and this ain’t it.” As he cleaned more and more he came to a strange conclusion. “I don’t think this thing opens….” He made a full circuit around the chest and came back frowning, “No crack where the lid meets the body, no hinges, nothing. I guess it could be the world’s largest puzzle box but it doesn’t seem to have any pieces that move.”

“There has to be something,” Morgan said. She crouched down and took a closer look at the markings. Nothing really stuck out as particularly alchemical or magical. “Maybe you just have to...pop the lid off straight up?” But where was the lid? It was just..box. Morgan fished out her phone. She could try turning the box into something that was already open, but as she scraped her fingers along the sides, looking for something, anything, she lost interest in putting her magic anywhere near...whatever this was. She backed away slowly. “You know, maybe we’re better off just calling the police, or the neighborhood watch or--” Morgan didn’t finish. The clouds overhead grumbled with thunder and a wave of fish hailed down.

“I’d be inclined to agree with you and go get the crowbar from my truck… but I don’t even see a seam at the top. It’s just solid gross damp wood.” Ricky tried to do exactly that though, no harm in trying, but as soon as he gripped the wood tightly to try to pop what was supposed to be the lid off he was hit with a gut-punching wave of nausea and he doubled over in pain, retching slightly, “Okay. It’s not coming off like that. Definitely not like…” before he could finish his sentence the sky murmured with the sound of a far off storm and Ricky felt himself get hit, not with raindrops as might expect, but with what appeared to be a halibut. “Okay what the fuck.” The sky opened up and they were suddenly pelted by a wave of fish, “This. Is not. Supposed to happen!” Ricky shouted out. 

[e350tb]

Steven Universe: Marooned Together - Chapter Forty-Seven

(with thanks to @real-fakedoors for proofreading!)

Sadie pictured herself in an open field.

She stood alone, surrounded on all sides by green grass, snow capped mountains in the distance. A warm breeze brushed over her skin, and heard the gentle sound of birdsong. Why was she here? She couldn’t rightly say - perhaps she was grounding herself somewhere peaceful before she confronted…

...she couldn’t rightly say. All she knew was that she was confronting... something.

She looked down at herself - her body glowed yellow, rays of light radiating gently from her form. She couldn’t really define herself, save for a vague shape. Was she human under this light, or did the twisted form of Chrysalis confine her, the puppets strings still intent on making her dance and pirouette at the beck and call of the Diamonds?

She didn’t know. And right now, with her friends in danger? She didn’t care.

A second form appeared in front of her - or, perhaps, her mind, struggling to provide visual context to an entirely abstract struggle, created it. It was her outline, but this doppelganger suffused the air with inky darkness, its only distinguishing feature being blood-red eyes. This was Chrysalis - or some symbolic representation thereof - and where she stood, the grass turned grey and died.

“Chrysalis,” said Sadie.

Chrysalis shook her head.

“Distinguishing between us is useless,” she replied. “We are the same. You are simply the past - confused, passionate, obsolete.”

“No,” replied Sadie. “You’re not me. You’re the control the Diamonds put into my head to turn me into their…”

“You tell yourself that,” said Chrysalis, “because you cannot face responsibility for your actions.”

Above her, an image appeared - the two human Home Guards being disintegrated, followed by the annihilation of the Orange Pearl.

“That was you,” snapped Sadie. “Not me.”

“It was your hand,” snarled Chrysalis. “Your body. You did nothing to resist. Their deaths are on our hands.”

Sadie looked down and let out a somewhat strangled cry. Her hands were suddenly caked in an oozing red gunk, a deep metallic smell filling her nostrils.

“I couldn’t resist!” she snapped. “You were-”

“Like you can’t resist now?”

Sadie swallowed.

“We are the same,” declared Chrysalis. “I am your strength. And you…”

Sadie was suddenly yanked onto her back as the red goop forced her arms to the ground, merging with the soil beneath it. The sky began to darken as threatening storm clouds covered the blue canvas - the birdsong turned into the cries of a crow.

“...you are my weakness. And weakness must be rooted out.”

----

Lapis ducked under a shot from Sadie’s beam, losing her footing and crashing onto her back. The cyborg quickly aimed a follow-up shot, but Stevonnie slid into her line of sight and deflected the beam with their shield, sending it shooting upwards. It broke through the roof, creating a small skylight that shone down on Lars.

“Okay, I know I was raised from the dead, but this is just tacky,” said Lars dryly.

Sadie spun round, shooting off a beam towards the pirate - he was jerked back as Garnet yanked him out of the way. The fusion quickly responded, sending a gauntlet hurtling towards her opponent. Sadie raised her arm; it glowed green, and a square holographic shield emerged, blocking the strike.

Before she could act again, Lapis brought a watery blade onto her robotic arm - it bounced off, and the cyborg turned her attention to her. She spun round, her other arm clutching Lapis’ neck and beginning to squeeze.

“Lapis!”

Stevonnie shot forward, grabbing Sadie by the hair and yanking her back. She lost her grip of Lapis as Stevonnie forced her to the ground, holding her arms down and looking into her eyes.

“Sadie, please! It’s me, Stevonnie!” they urged.

For a moment, Sadie stared into their eyes.

Then she swiftly and unceremoniously headbutted Stevonnie, sending them reeling back and clutching their head. The cyborg swiftly jumped up, ready to get back into the fray…

----

Sadie gritted her teeth as the oozing gunk began to swallow her arms - she glanced down, seeing the same happening to her legs. Around her, the soil and grass turned into a sea of metallic red, and she felt the taste of blood in the air. Chrysalis walked slowly and mechanically towards her, her eyes piercing into Sadie’s.

“You fight what happened to you,” she declared. “You still see yourself as the organic. I discard that. I embrace my purpose - to fight for the Diamonds and the Empire.”

She reached Sadie and stopped, gazing down at her counterpart.

“You’re… you’re a monster!” shouted Sadie.

“We’re a monster,” corrected Chrysalis.

She extended her arms, gesturing at the raging sea of crimson around them.

“Don’t you see?” she demanded. “You cannot go back. You will never be who you were again. Weak. Pathetic. Human. And yet you cling to it. You are a virus in my code. You are a legacy bug. Your resistance must and will be quashed.”

“We… we’re not the same!” shouted Sadie. “You’re not me! Chrysalis is not me! I’m human!”

“Less than seven percent of our body is organic in origin,” replied Chrysalis. “Even if it were possible to reverse your conversion, the parts removed have long been discarded. You are no more human than you are gem. Your base form has been used to create something far superior.”

She knelt down.

“You are me, and I am you,” she said once more, “We both know that.”

She put a hand on Sadie’s chest.

“Stop resisting. Become one with me. Embrace who you are.”

Sadie closed her eyes, seeing her real situation in her mind - her body, standing over a bruised Stevonnie, preparing to fire a disintegration beam right into their face; Lars in the corner of her eye, charging towards her, ray gun in hand, and her free hand raising to deal with him.

She opened them again.

“Okay,” she said.

Chrysalis’ arm suddenly flowed apart, the waves of darkness flowing into Sadie’s form.

“What?”

“You’re right,” said Sadie. “We are the same. I’m not human.”

Chrysalis’ form began to flow apart as more of her sank into Sadie. Around her, the gunk began to part, flowing away as if blasted by an enormous gust of wind.

“But I’m not Chrysalis either,” Sadie continued. “I’m not Yellow Diamond’s toy. I’m me. I’m Sadie. Maybe I’m a robot - but I’m the robot that’s gonna ruin her day.”

----

Lars squirmed as Sadie lifted him against the wall, hand around his throat. He gasped for breath, desperately reaching for the ray gun he had dropped to the floor. White spots began to blot out the room around him, chest seizing, throat burning. Was this it? Was it over? He had to admit - it wasn’t how he’d expected to go.

Suddenly, Sadie blinked. Her body shook, and her grip loosened - Lars dropped to the floor as his friend clutched her head, gritting her teeth as one hand reached upwards towards her hair.

Coughing, Lars managed to hack out the sound of her name. “S-Sadie?”

“Nnnngh! Get… out… of my HEAD!”

She clutched the antenna and pulled. With a metallic snap, it ripped in two - she screamed, falling to her knees as her eyes shone a brilliant red. Then, like a ragdoll, she fell face-first to the ground.

“Sadie!”

Lars sat up, grabbing his friend and turning her over. Stevonnie, Lapis and Garnet were at his side just a heartbeat later.

Slowly, Sadie opened her eyes - they still glowed, but now they were a soft yellow.

“...Lars?” The mechanical reverb was still there, but it was far less harsh - far more human.

“I’m here,” Lars pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back gently. “I’m here…”

“What just happened?” asked Lapis, tilting her head.

“She fought her programming,” replied Garnet simply.

Sadie pulled back from Lars, rubbing her head.

“I… I was trying for so long,” she muttered. “I guess something in me just snapped…”

“It’s very difficult for a mind to be forced to destroy what it values,” Garnet nodded. “This outcome was always inevitable.”

“What?” Lapis crossed her arms. “So we weren’t in any danger? Why didn’t you tell us that?”

“I never said that,” added Garnet. “Sadie would always have broken free… we’re just lucky she did that before Chrysalis destroyed us all.”

“So there was a future where I…” Sadie trailed off.

She looked down at her robotic body - at her free-floating fingers, her metallic, painted torso, the single small window of flesh on her arm.

“...well, shit,” she said flatly.

She stood up, looking down at her shiny body, holding her hands in front of her eyes. For a long time, there was silence - Stevonnie seemed to be searching for something to say.

“I… I’m…”

Lars put a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re safe now, Sadie,” he said, his voice cracking. “That’s all that matters.”

Without further ado, he scooped Sadie into a tight hug, letting the tears flow freely from his eyes.

----

“We’ve lost contact with Chrysalis!” exclaimed 4DT.

“What?!” exclaimed Aquamarine.

4DT paced the control room, clutching her hair.

“We’ve lost contact,” he repeated. “Chrysalis is no longer responding to commands! They’ve taken it out of action.”

“That…” Aquamarine clenched her fists. “That was years of White and Yellow Diamond’s experimentation, and now it’s… it’s… this is your fault!”

“My fault?” replied 4DT. “How is it my fault! You-”

“Settle down.”

Both of them jumped and gazed towards the figure that still stood in the doorway, the faintest trace of a smile on her shadowed face.

“The drones remain active, so Project Chrysalis remains a success,” the figure explained. “Sadie Miller was never anything more than a side-project - all this has proved is that the human mind is… unsatisfactory. Like most, in fact.”

“I… a test?” 4DT pursed her lips. “And how do you know what White Diamond thinks? Maybe this is a disaster, and you’re just covering yourself so she-”

“I know, 4DT. Would you like to know too?”

The figure stepped forward, revealing herself - a white pearl, her hair tied into buns on either side of her face, a crack running over her eye. 4DT swallowed.

“N-no, I… I’m good.”

“Good,” said White Pearl, smiling vacantly. “Now, Rose Quartz will be here soon - we’d best get ready. Have the drones-”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Aquamarine. “The prisoners are being…”

“Aquamarine.” White Pearl turned her head towards her, her body remaining totally still. “Never interrupt me again.”

Aquamarine shut her mouth and gulped.

“Bring me the Peridot,” continued White Pearl. “I want to have a heart to heart…”

[zombies-with-radios]

Found on fb, the soulless chasm of darkness.

Bruh, y'all know I routinely sacrifice for y'all bc I love y'all, DESPITE the fact that ain't nobody's gnawed fingernail daughter put a ring on this finger yet, BUT I did a thing anyway.

So I'm in Burger King pickin up a Grubhub order and whilst waiting for them to finish cooking the dick meat of an opossum for my customer, it hits me: "Hamma...Mr. President...man of the people...interstellar guidance counselor...you gotta try a BK taco. For yourself? NAY! For the people."

Anxiety fills my heart and butthole as I walk back to the counter with my inquisition about said abomination:

Hey bros.

"Hey, what's up man, we got that Grubhub order comin right out for you."

Nah...uh...*leans in and whispers* Y'all sell tacos now, right? Have you had one?

"Yessir, they're good bro!"

Yeah?

"*eyes roll into back of head* consume...."

Wut?

"Er, I said yeah!...Would you like one? *bizarrely placed clap of thunder*"

*sighs* Yeah bruh, lemme get one.

I walk to a booth, gritting my teeth with the excitement, anxiety, and foreboding sense of dread one expects when they know they've just made a TERRIBLE decision, my psyche desperately clasping to the cliff's edge of hope that perhaps The BK Lounge MIGHT just get this right. 17 oddly specific seconds later, I hear the battle cry of a market failing to regulate itself:

"ONE BK TACO!"

This is it. I swallow my pride and retrieve my odious bounty from the death dealer. I sit back down. A cold sweat runs down my cheek. I take a deep breath and unbag it. INSTANTLY, a chorus of hooded monks starts singing in Latin. The Earth shakes. My prostate quivers. It looks very Jack in the Box taco-y from the outside, but when I spread that shell open like bootycheeks, what lied before me can only be described as what I'd imagine Nancy Pelosi cleans out of her gaw after a long day of throat fuckin Neolibs with the dirty dick funnel of Centrism. Oh God, is that cheese or is that gunk from Chris Christie's mouth after round 11 at a $4.99 Indian food buffet? Omg. The lettuce. That one brave little piece of lettuce is staring at me as if it's begging me to put a mercy bullet in it.

Beleaguered by the audacity of Burger King to make an edible Trump administration, I cry bitter tears of confusion and hate. "WHERE IS YOUR GOD NOW?!" the cashier roars at me as he slices his palm with a ceremonial blade, an obvious blood tribute to Apollyon, King of Demons. The room is spinning. The chorus is crying blood as they chant "Jesus wept!" in Latin to a DJ Mustard beat. The mouth of HELL ITSELF opens, spitting out the screaming souls of the eternally damned and beckoning my fall into the sinful abyss. In this daze, I remember why I'm doing this and snap out of it. I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED BY THE OFFICIAL TACO OF THE ARMY OF DARKNESS, SERIAL KILLERS, AND PEOPLE WHO LISTEN TO GLENN BECK. I jump on the table and rip my shirt off. "I DON'T DO THIS FOR NO MUTHAFUCKIN RAPPIN, I DO IT THE RATCHETSSSSS!" I scream as I devour the STOMACH CHURNINGLY crunchy, but simultaneously soggy mass. I black out.

When I come to, I'm in the hospital. T'Challa, Pam Grier, Bruce Leroy, and The Gap Band are all bedside. "Thank you, Wesly" they all say in unison. "Thank you for risking it all so we don't have to."

So long story short, it was ok, I guess.

-Wesly Peterson

[randomizationprojectblog]

Thunderful consists of two separate parts Thunderful development and and thunderful publishing a leading indie publisher and has produced some of the most creative games out there. The business initially consisted of Image & Form, Zoink and Guru Games and was fully merged in 2020 the company has also acquired studios such as coatsink and robot teddy. This means that Thunderful is a holding business and therefore helps in controlling its distribution hence they are also a publisher. Thunderful has also got a portfolio of a total of 24 of its own games such as the gunk and lost in random. 

Thunderman has created many games some of my favourites include lost in random and the gunk as well as the wavetale all of which have beautiful art styles. My favourite of them being lost in random has one of my favorite it's tim burton esque style makes for a beautiful stylistic game. Lost in random is about a girl living in the poorest area of the realm who is one day whisked away by the quen players are tasked with fighting evil forces with luck and chance in this horror fairy tale style game. The gunk is another game i really like players are tasked with playing as a cavanger by the name of rani to traverse across an alien planet with her partner beck  Thunderful has also produced a vast amount of indie games all of which have been a huge success. I would really like to wok with Thunderful in the future because how they mainly wok with indie games which is something i really like as it means that all the games will always be different meaning there is always something new to look forward to especially art style wise.

I would like to work for Thunderful ab the side in which creates its own games however if i was to enter into the world of indie development i would like to join forces with them as well. Thunderful is a team made up of 170 employees and has many opportunities of getting your way into ots tam i found this by going onto their website and found tat currently they are looking fo people to help write,produce,technical artists and find and expired game designer some of this job rolls can also b done remotely. This is because they have many office all around europe most of which being in gothenburg sweden. When looking at their website they had a quote that stuck out to me Our job is per definition an art form, and our goal is for all our employees to feel excited and passionate to keep making amazing games. This shows they really want their employees to have the best time woking for them and looking at a few of employees notes on the experience working there i can see this is great place to work. Qualification and experience is needed in most of its job roles. 

[cartoonhangover]

Meet Mike Rosenthal

Meet Mike Rosenthal, the creator of Slug Riot! We asked him about life and his new series on Cartoon Hangover featuring an overly-dramatic guitarist, a spunky moldcore rocker-to-be, and a goblin/man hybrid that’s inevitably going to become your favorite character. Learn a bit about Mike and Slug Riot:

What's your animation background?

I doodled throughout school and made a few animations with the default movie maker on my computer, but I first started drawing regularly in high school when I'd submit shirt designs to Threadless. I went to college for writing, so all of my drawing experience was for comics for my college newspaper. Storyboarding is just comics, so that's how I learned to do that. Making Our New Electrical Morals for Cartoon Hangover back in 2013 was my first big project. I do some limited animation for personal projects, but that's about it. Real animation is hard.

What's the story of Slug Riot and its creation?

Slug Riot was a character I created for a comic in 2012 about being hardcore and crying. I fell in love with the idea of a character who's just always emotionally extreme. For my grad school thesis, I wrote and storyboarded a 15-minute pilot about him. The current series is very different than that original pilot—different story, different characters—but Slug Riot himself is the exact same. His personality has never changed. He's also a reflection of my love for weird music subgenres.

Are there real-life inspirations for the colorful characters in Slug Riot?

Every character is me. I was in an awful punk band with my friends in 8th grade. We were so bad that the band teacher wouldn't let us play the school talent show. As Vonnegut wrote, all this happened, more or less.

Can you explain the musical genre you've dubbed as "moldcore"?

Slug Riot is the founder of moldcore, a music scene he started in his boring hometown 10 years ago. Stylistically, it reflects noise rock with some garage, shoegaze, and punk. It's a fuzzed-out, erratic, loud mess, and if it doesn't result in something getting damaged, then you aren't doing it right. I made a moldcore playlist to get me in the mood when writing. It has Yuck, mclusky, Melt-Banana, Tobacco, Flying Saucer Attack, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Les Rallizes Dénudés, Westkust, Japandroids, and Lightning Bolt. So moldcore is like all that. But more than a specific sound, moldcore is about self-destructing out loud.

What's up with the blue gunk dripping out of Slug Riot's ear?

That's the Mold. Slug Riot's brain is infested with it.

What kind of bands would have opened up for Slug Riot during their 10 years of touring the world?

Slug Riot would never work with a competent band. Every opener was some local teens who didn't know how to play their instruments. Once their opener was a pack of wolves.

Is music an important part of your life? What are some of your favorite albums or your current jams?

Music was definitely how I defined myself for a long time. Once I learned that the punk and ska bands on Tony Hawk's Pro Skater were real and not fake video game bands, I downloaded a bunch of stuff off Napster and bought my favorites at my mall's one CD store. I had a NOFX shirt in 4th grade no one else could pronounce correctly. I took up French horn until realizing ska bands don't have French horns and took up bass guitar instead. My older sister took me to the Warped Tour in 6th grade. I burned a CD for my Bar Mitzvah DJ to play that was full of songs you definitely couldn't dance to. Wish I could still find that CD.

Favorite albums. Okay. I think it's easier to talk about my favorite albums by year, so—

4th grade: Less Than Jake, Hello Rockview

7th grade: NOFX, War on Errorism

10th grade: Beck, Odelay

12th grade: Deerhoof, Friend Opportunity

Freshman: Neutral Milk Hotel, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

Sophomore: The National, Boxer

Junior: Titus Andronicus, The Monitor

Grad school: Kanye West, Yeezus

After grad school: The Go! Team, The Scene Between

Now, uh, I've been listening to a lot of Kero Kero Bonito. So let's go with Bonito Generation.

If you were locked in a room for 24 hours with every TV show and movie ever made, what would you watch?

That's my life right now, and the answer is always Frasier.

Who are some animators or artists that inspire you?

Don Hertzfeldt's work, Homestar Runner, Clone High, and FLCL were my favorites growing up. Everything I make is me just trying to be like those. I want to make the art I wanted when I was 13 and everything felt important.

Got any 2018 new year's resolutions?

To throw all the video games into jail.

What else have you been working on lately?

I've been working on little cartoons with my friend Sean Godsey. We put them up on https://vimeo.com/user73952089. I still draw little comics. I also run a D&D campaign about Frasier.

How can we keep up with you? Got any of them fancy Internet links for us?

@vectorbelly is where I put all my very bad tweets. My Tumblr is vectorbelly.tumblr.com. My Instagram is a broken down toilet somewhere deep in the forest.

Anything else you want to share?

Please go make something creative today. It will make you feel better.

Thank you for sharing, Mike! You can watch Slug Riot on Cartoon Hangover Select on VRV: http://frdr.us/2Dp93qS

[thelatenightsession]

The Gunk (Review)

Going from down on your luck crewman of a spaceship to world saving super janitor may sound a little like a Space Quest plotline but that’s the challenge you face in The Gunk, from developer Image & Form. You’re quickly introduced to Rani, a scavenger you control who works with her partner Beck trying to make ends meet in space when they discover an uncharted planet with a mysterious power…