#but I think I have an easier time getting Rainbow Cubes now

[quibbs126]

Actually you know what, I think I like this costume better than the default, I’m gonna try and pull for this so I can just use this

[thehungryplaice]

Go Back To The 80s With The Hungry Plaice....

https://www.the-hungryplaice.uk/go-back-to-the-80s-at-your-event

The 80s....What a Decade! I don't mind admitting we are big 80s lovers at The Hungry Plaice, it was the decade of our childhood filled with cheese and the start of the video game revolution and if we could go back in time that's where you would find us, I would love to go back to experience the feelings of being back there but with alot more appreciation for what we had as we didn't have a clue back then how fab that time was. There are loads of 80s revivals around, 80s pop stars relaunching their careers and touring again and TV shows picking up on the 80s themes. We love our 80s vans so much that we currently have two these are our Vintage Fish and Chip Vans Betty and Beryl, we try not to look around and see if there are any more for sale as we would be quite happy to fill up our driveway with more of these beauties!

The 80s was filled with fun, fun and loads more fun from the Neon leggings we all wore to the Arcades full of cool games that we used to play, things back then just seemed so much easier and we were still in the days when it was safe for us kids to be playing out all day without our parents knowing where we were rather than being stuck in your bedroom glued to a game, we enjoyed fresh air and freedom and as long as we were back for tea our parents didn't worry about us. We didn't have rules like we do nowadays, Health and Safety was in it's infancy and as kids we could do pretty much what we wanted, we had metal bars we would swing on in the playground at school with huge concrete stepping stones you'd jump across, I got a scar from banging my nose on one of those in my Primary School and I still think it was character building. At home we had a metal framed bunk bed I'm sure was from MFI, there was a metal netted bottom that the mattress sat on top of, I always used to get my hair tangled up in that and I'm sure I've probably got bald patches from where I had to be cut out to be freed. We had a pampas greenish coloured bathroom set in my childhood home which would be considered Vintage today and lots of brown 80s things around the house like pull down coiled lights in the ceilings. My parents were delighted when they had the chance to put an eye level oven in the kitchen and ditch the freestanding gas oven where you had the grill at the top and try to burn your hands when you were cooking your fish fingers, we did have a microwave at some point and that lead to a rebellion on proper cooking! I remember using libraries alot when I was younger, it was a treat going and picking out books you could take away home, there was a limit to the number that you could have and you had to be careful not to get a fine for taking it back late. Information had to be researched and you couldn't do that from the comfort of home, for school I had to go there to find books on certain subjects and I remember being fascinated when having to use those terminals to look at old newspapers. The music was so much better back then, there was a happiness to songs that just made you want to dance not full of rude words and sexual references like today, we had an array of one hit wonders and big massive stars like Madonna and Kylie, Duran Duran and Wham! The songs still get played today but they sound more superior as we no longer listen to them on cassette tapes.

Cassette Tapes.....they were the days, I forgot how you had to rewind them to the beginning to get to the start and you could use a pencil if the tape pulled out and how there are pauses between songs and of course whilst you can try to to rewind and forward wind you'll never find the start of a song, we are spoilt now that we can do that just by pressing a button. The most embarrassing bit was when I asked my husband if something was wrong with the tape as the pause was going on just a bit too long....he gently reminded me that it was the end of the tape and it needed to be turned over haha!! Of course we all had those high tech Pre MP3/IPod/CD Players to play our music with a set of headphones with the fuzzy ears, my brother had one of the early Sony Walkmans and never let me even see it, I bet that's worth something these days I bought a cheap one off Ebay recently I couldn't help myself! Toys were actual toys there were a few electronic ones around such as Speak & Spell or a talking doll where you had a pull a bit of string and it only said about three words, we really actually played with physical things I had Sindy and some Barbie Dolls in fact I had so much of it I'd carry it all in one of those old large blue plastic shopping bags funny there were sold by Tesco to put into your trolley when they introduced self scanning it seems the technology died a death all those years ago but it now all the range. My brothers had Action Men and loads of model cars, we had a huge floor mat that had map on it with roads and a town that you would drive your model cars around all day on. There were Garbage Pail Kids, Care Bears, Rubix Cubes Train Sets and Scaletrix and as we were a bit more money savvy in those days you'd only get something for your birthday and Christmas not just because your parents wanted you to be quiet!

TV Back in the 80s

When we wanted to watch something on TV we only had a few channels I remember the time before Channel 5 and we had one huge Brown TV in the Lounge where you had to press the buttons on the front to change the channel, I reckon you would have needed a forklift to move the damn thing it was so huge and took up half the room. Days were filled with whatever my parents wanted to watch, there was Rainbow and Playschool when I was little, I remember watching the very first episode of Eastenders (a bad TV habit I dropped a few years ago), programmes were quite limited back then but it wasn't a huge deal because we entertained ourselves as kids, sometimes watching a Film would be a big treat and made special times like Christmas were more exciting sitting down together as a family and watching a film just released on TV that we had never seen before. We didn't mind adverts if we were watching ITV or Channel4 they didn't drag on like you get these days.

I don't remember exactly when Video Recorders came on the market but I know there were Betamax and VHS, we had VHS machine, you could record programmes off the TV and playback at your leisure and you always knew someone who was copying VHS to VHS that would sell you some films. I still used VHS tapes when my daughter was little so they were around all the time I was growing up. Buying a VHS tape was a real treat, you might have been lucky enough to have seen a film in the cinema but there was always a really big delay until they were released on Video or so it seemed. Of course for a really special treat you would go Blockbusters to rent a video but they were quite strict if you forgot your video card I guess computer systems weren't able to let you confirm any of your account details you had!

80s Fashion

Then there was the fashion in the 80s.....wow it was great and brilliant all neon neon neon and bright colours, I had one of those multi coloured white and purple shellsuits and Hi-Tec Trainers. There were punk hairstyles and coloured dyed hair and clothes that didn't match, famous stars created looks from throwing clothes together like Madonna and Boy George. Colours like pink, yellow and blue where everywhere, we had shoulder pads and polka dots, tracksuits and fitness gear, an explosion of trainers and dungarees. There are brands that have come back into fashion nowadays like Kappa and Champion, I wish to god I had kept them all to have them now! We would shop in the local high street and independent fashion shops, I lived in London and would go markets at the weekend, Wembley market was a huge favourite. We had BHS and C&A and a shop called Madhouse in the High Street at the top of the road, I don't really remember when the supermarkets starting selling clothes and the rise of the bigger fashion names back then we were quite limited to only a few shops. I have to mention Woolworths of course, we had one in our high street and I would enjoy just walking around looking at the everything they had including the glorious pick and mix!

Rumbelows.... I remember when you wanted something electrical you could shop at Currys and Comet and even Rumbelows, you always had to go out to buy something and bigger electrical items were never in stock and always had to be ordered and delivered weeks later, we really don't know how lucky we are to have the internet and the ability to order online it saves so much time and give us the freedom of choice to buy from so many different places. Of course the reason we couldn't buy online was because we didn't have the internet in our homes, no mobile phones, I got my first when I was 18 and had to ask permission to call anyone from the house phone, if you wanted to meet your friends you had to arrange it all before you went out and you couldn't check if they were on their way to see you unless you have 10p and phone box nearby. You were lucky if you had a Games Console let alone a Computer....

Gaming in the 80s, well what can I say it put gaming on the map and if it wasn't for those early days I doubt the gaming industry would be what it is today. We had a Spectrum Sinclair 48k first, I'm not even sure what a 48k would be today in terms of processing or storage even a single Word document can be bigger than that. It was bought as a shared present in the family one Christmas and I rarely got to play on it. All I remember is that we had a small black and white TV that we would connect to the computer and you'd have a cassette player connected to, for the Sinclair 128k we had later on I know there was a cassette player connected to the right hand side of the keyboard. Anyway you'd press play and then hear this whizzing buzzing noise whilst the game was loading and the TV would go all fuzzy, sometimes it would take ages and if you had a copy your mate recorded it might not load properly, talk about building your anticipation and then letting you down! The games we had included Daley Thompson, Hungry Horace and Jet Set Willy, I've seen the Spectrum emulator and its a great reminder of the games we had in the days gone by, they now download in seconds....just think what we could have done with all that time we sat staring at a screeching cassette tape player waiting for games to load. We would use the keyboard to play or a joystick if that sort of thing was sold with the Computer you had and your parents could afford one, it was quite easy....left, right, up, down and fire. Us kids would normally have one type of computer, ours was the Spectrum and I know someone on our road had the Commodore and I think there was a Binatone in someone's house, you were royalty if you were lucky enough to have more than one Computer. Handhelds were around then like the Game and Watch ones I don't remember all the different ones they made there were so many sold, we had an early Donkey Kong split screen it was orange on the casing of course I hardly got to play that either, the newer generation of Gaming Consoles like the Sega Megadrive was a big surprise to us kids that you could just put your game in and not long after be playing your game how did that happen! We also had the launch of the Nintendo Gameboy at the end of the decade which changed our gaming lives forever! Another side of gaming that you don't really see today was the Arcades, they were places you hung out with your mates for hours and hours playing Street Fighter and Pac Man, we had a shop on the high street which only had one or two I think it might have been a cafe, when you scored a high score you'd put your three initials in, arcades are mostly for the seaside holidays today full of the boring 2p push machines and fruities, as we know the game industry moved from those high street arcades to bedrooms.... So next time you complain about having to wait whilst you're downloading that highly sophisticated game with the controller I would need a degree to understand how to use think about us kids and our gaming....!

The 80s....wow what a decade

what a time, full of colour, lights and fun, I do wish I could get in a time machine and go back there and have some fun but I know we will never go back to those easy days we will keep moving forwards so instead I'll enjoy our road trips in the vans with the crackling radios....

https://www.the-hungryplaice.uk/go-back-to-the-80s-at-your-event

[schism-au-blog]

Chapter 9

Rose stepped off the warp pad. She knew she wouldn’t be able to access the forge without Bismuth, but she could still look at it, as a reminder of the friend she’d lost. She headed down the path, only to hear voices and the clanging of rock. She stopped. What could that possibly be?

Oh. Of course the metallic gems would set up near Bismuth’s forge. Well, taking a break from shapeshifting was out of the question. In fact, being Rose probably wouldn’t stop her from being shattered. She thought about turning back, sending a smaller gem to scout the forge out, but decided to do some looking herself.

However, she figured it wouldn’t make sense to take more risks than necessary. She traded out her dress for a typical quartz uniform and her hair for something shorter and choppier. She felt it, and felt disappointed about how similar it felt to her hair as Pink Diamond, but she couldn’t stop and worry about that now. They’d probably immediately figure out it was her, anyway, all other Rose Quartzes had been bubbled, but she could at least try to pretend she had run away from Homeworld and hid. She didn’t have an excuse for why she wouldn’t have joined the crystal gems, but, she supposed, she just wouldn’t get caught.

She took a cautious step forward. She was well aware that there weren't many good hiding spots. The rocks were mostly small and scattered, and there were no trees or plants. She was scared, but she was too curious to stop now. What were the metallic gems up to?

She continued edging forward, trying to be careful not to be seen or heard. She peeked around a corner and saw Howlite, Snowflake, and Tiger's Eye working on a blocky base. Wait, Tiger’s eye? She hadn’t gone with them originally. Rose realized with sudden horror that she hadn’t seen Tiger’s Eye since that morning. She was normally on the guard force, but Rose had assumed she’d been on a small hit-and-run.

Rose blinked. She couldn’t focus on that now. She should look at what else she could see about the metallic gems and their base. It was made of black cubes sticking out of the mountain at odd angles, some were stacked on top of each other, some seemed suspended on nothing, but Rose figured the base must be taking up the entirety of the inside of the mountain. It was rather big for just four- no, five, gems. They were planning on expanding. 

Rose wondered briefly if they’d try to recruit more from Homeworld or the Crystal Gems. If they recruited from Homeworld, it could help the Crystal Gems by dwindling Homeworld’s forces and bringing more gems to fight them. However, if Tiger’s Eye was anything to go by, it would probably be quicker and easier to recruit from the Crystal Gems.

Speculation could be done later, Rose thought. Could she overhear anything they were saying? No, the noises of the base being built were too loud. She wondered if she could or should send someone as a spy. The metallic gems were the only faction that Rose didn’t have endless information on at her fingertips. Then again, she figured having spies on the Metallic gems and not on Homeworld would seem pretty suspicious.

She stood and watched from a good distance for a while, being extraordinarily careful not to be seen. She eventually decided people would be worried about her, and quietly moved back to the warp, getting less cautious as she was further away. When she got in front of the warp, she shifted back into her normal Rose Quartz form. She felt exhausted. She supposed she’d have to rest soon.

She warped back to the base and made her way back to the training room, chatting with various gems along the way. When she arrived, Pearl grinned. “Rose! How was it?”

Rose smiled. “Excellent. Cherry’s not back yet?” she questioned.

“I asked her if I could take over for today. Gold and Silver here are making so much progress, I figured switching teachers would be harmful for them,” Pearl said.

“Thank you,” Silver said timidly.

“I mean it,” said Pearl. “You both remind me of when I first joined the Crystal Gems, timid, a bit unsure, but ready to make a difference. In fact, I think you’re ready to fight Rainbow.”

“We’ve met her, right?” Gold asked. “She was the one who carried us out of the Reef.”

“We’re not ready to fight her!” Silver exclaimed. “She was so tall!”

“Relax,” said Rose. “We wouldn’t be trying to actually fight you, just show you some techniques you can use against bigger gems. Or fusions, especially now that the metallic gems have split off.”

Pearl nodded. “Fighting a fusion can feel completely different from fighting even a single large gem.”

“Alright,” said Gold. “I’m willing to try.”

“Silver Pearl?” Rose asked gently.

She nodded.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Rose said.

Silver looked determined. “But I do want to! I’m scared, but I don’t want to let that stop me.”

Rose grinned and looked at Pearl. “Shall we?”

Their dance was different this time. They had swords, and they used them in their dance, so it looked much like fighting to anyone who didn’t know Rose and Pearl well. They clashed and flipped. Rose twirled Pearl with her available hand and dipped her.

“It’s great to see you again!” Rainbow said. “Let’s go slow at first so you can learn patterns, then we can gradually speed it up.”

Silver and Gold gripped their swords and got ready.

“I’ll let you attack first,” Rainbow said.

Gold charged at Rainbow, who dodged out of the way, and made a counterstrike with Rose’s sword, which Gold countered. The black pair of eyes swiveled to look at Silver, who was trying to sneak in an attack while Rainbow was focused on Gold.

Rainbow was more comfortable when her eyes were looking the same direction, but during battle, it was often necessary to split her attention between two directions. Rainbow parried Silver and leapt back to take a look at them. They were both advancing on her, but she saw that their balance was weighted forward and they’d both have a difficult time turning around.

Rainbow ran forward between them. Gold nearly fell trying to turn around, but Silver was only thrown slightly off-balance.

Rainbow unfused. “I hope you both understand why keeping your weight underneath you is important,” Pearl said.

Gold nodded. “It’s so hard worrying about form when someone twice your height is charging at you.”

“That’s why you need to drill it until it’s natural,” said Pearl. “So you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh,” said Silver. “Is that why you had us fight Rainbow?”

“So you could see why what I’m teaching you is important, yes,” Pearl said. “Rose, would you go get Cherry and make sure she doesn’t want to tell them anything else, I think I’ll be done shortly.”

Rose nodded. “Of course.” Rose hung her sword up and went to go find Cherry, only to be intercepted by Garnet.

“She’ll be in the left planning room out of the main corridor,” Garnet said.

“Oh,” said Rose. “Thank you. Are you taking time for yourself, Garnet? You look tired.”

“It has been hard,” Garnet said. “I think I’m struggling with the fact that even though I have so much more information than I did, I still am missing so much. I feel like I’m supposed to be infallible in a way that I simply can’t be.”

“Garnet,” Rose said. “You are absolutely incredible. Your very existence is beautiful. Believe in yourself. You are the answer, go with your intuition. Never doubt yourself.”

“Thank you, Rose,” said Garnet.

Rose grinned. “I mean it.”

Garnet smiled. “I know. Now, go get Cherry before she leaves the planning room.”

Rose started running in that direction. “Thanks, Garnet!”

She rounded a corner and before she reached the room where Cherry was, she dashed into another side room, and slammed the door behind her. She hadn’t realized how tired she was getting, but she suddenly felt cramped as she rose to her full height. She looked down at her gloved hands. She hated this form. She hated everything about Pink Diamond. She had done so much harm.

Maybe that’s why she told everyone about Bismuth. She didn’t want Rose to be anything like Pink. She sat on the floor, and hugged her knees. She would’ve thought that Rainbow would’ve restored enough that she didn’t need to do this, but she guessed that wasn’t long enough to do much.

She tried not to let her thoughts spiral into self-hatred, but it was so hard. She had messed so much up. She’d made so many mistakes. Did she make anyone feel insignificant today? Maybe that conversation with Ruby had accidentally caused her some pain, Rose realized. She hadn’t even thought about it at the time- she hadn’t thought about Ruby, she’d ignored her. She’d have to apologize. But then what if Ruby didn’t remember the conversation at all?

Rose sighed. Why did she have to spend any time in this form? She wished she could just be Rose all the time. She just wanted to be herself, and now, that was Rose more than it ever was Pink Diamond. She thought wistfully back to when she was first made. She was absolutely horrendous and she was so grateful she had learned, but it was the only time in her life she never felt like she was playing pretend.

Pink remembered the first time she demanded a colony. At the time, she just wanted to be included, she was upset that Yellow was leaving her behind. When was the last time she felt free to speak her mind like that? It was when- Rose felt a tightness in her chest, and tears well up in her eyes as she remembered her Pearl crouching on the floor, covering her eye, Pink imploring, trying to protect her, and White- Rose thought of that creepy smile she had to see at every ball after that. Her first friend, drained of all life, of all soul, and it was all her fault. Begging for Pearl was the last time Pink remembered saying everything on her mind, holding no secrets back.

Pink supposed she should be grateful that she’d learned since then, that she’d learned restraint and how to keep some things inside. But some part of her longed to be able to be her full, entire self with no restraint. But, she supposed, that would never happen now.

She let her hands drop to the floor and took stock. She didn’t know how long it had been, but she was feeling ready to shapeshift for at least as long as the conversation with Cherry would take.

She stood up, her hair brushing the ceiling, and shapeshifted back into Rose Quartz. She smiled. She felt like herself again. She walked out the door and down the hall. She hoped Cherry was still in the planning room.

She knocked on the room that Cherry was in. She heard Cherry say “come in.” 

Rose pushed open the door and said “Pearl said she’s almost done with training, so she wanted to make sure there’s nothing else you wanted to do before she dismissed Silver and Gold.”

“Oh!” said Cherry, “Yes, actually, I need to go over a few things before I let them go.”

“Shall we walk back together?” Rose asked.

“Of course,” Cherry said. “I mean, you’ll probably want to talk to Pearl, right?”

Rose nodded. Cherry and Rose chatted while walking back to the training room. Once they got there, Rose waved at Pearl.

“You were gone a while,” Gold noted.

“I got stopped by Garnet,” Rose explained, which was half true.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back!” said Pearl, quickly. “I’ll see the two of you later.”

Rose nodded. “It was lovely seeing you two again. Goodbye, Cherry, Goodbye Silver, Goodbye, Gold.”

Gold, Silver, and Cherry waved and said goodbye. 

Rose and Pearl left the room. “Pearl, follow me,” Rose said. “I need to talk to you in private.”

Taglist:  @suartz

[wordynerdygurl]

Costumes & Kittens

Summary: You convince Loki to dress up for a Halloween party and then enjoy a private after party.

Loki x Reader

Warning: SMUT, Funny, Loving Loki

"Are you really going to put on a costume?" Sarcasm dripped from every syllable Loki uttered over the idea.

"Heck yes! And you are too! Right?... Right?" But the look on Loki's handsome face explained exactly what he thought of the idea. Begging him you continued, "Oh, come on! It's so fun!! You get to be someone... or something else for a night."

Waiting for the walk signals to change, Loki looked up and down the street but not at you while saying, "I understand the custom. The appeal of it... but isn't this just child's play? Nonsense?"

You shrugged. "So what if it is? What's so wrong with letting your inner child out to play?"

"My inner child is a miniature frost giant with daddy issues and a desire to conquer... I don't think that's a costume one buys at Target, dearest."

You laughed, he wasn't wrong, really. "No, I guess not... but maybe you're looking at this all wrong. Maybe the question is, 'If Loki Odinson could be anything, what would he be?' Ya know what I mean?"

Shrugging Loki replied, "Anything? I'd be King of Asgard. Or the Universe."

"Be serious for a minute?" It's a tiny bit exasperating trying to explain these kind of things to Loki.

"Serious about a children's fancy dress party?" His eyebrows lifted archly.

"No. Serious about the question. What does Loki want to be when he grows up?" Punching his strong arm playfully, you drive the point home by batting your long lashes at The God of Mischief. He pulls you into a one armed embrace and kisses you sweetly.

"You know I'm over a thousand years old, right? I'm technically over grown at this point." Loki reminds you as he pulls open the door to your favorite restaurant.

"Funny, you don't look a day over 800." Loki nods, chuckling at your quick wittedness. You lean against him, waiting for the hostess to acknowledge your famished existence.

"So, you're going to dress as what, exactly?" Curiosity had Loki caught in its web. Reaching up on tiptoes you kiss his cheek and reply, "That, my dear, is a surprise, unless you want to do a couples costume? Like Doc and Marty... or Westley and Buttercup?" Loki scrunched his nose up.

"Ok. Too soon... so, what about you? Any ideas of what you'd like to be?" The pair of you are flirting like a teenagers as the restaurant hostess finally smiled at you. Leaning into your neck Loki nips your ear gently then husks, "The man who makes your quim quiver."

"How many?" The hostess, slightly put out by your public display, is looking at you with impatient eyes. Your mouth has gone dry with lust so Loki answers, "Just two, dear."

---

"This party is amazing!" You shout to Wanda over the pulsing music. She looked so cute as a rainbow unicorn, her golden horn bobbing in time with the 'Monster Mash'.

"You look so good! Oh my goodness, how funny!" Doubling over, Wanda was in tears at your costume, and you had to admit it was pretty hilarious. "Nat! Come here!"

"Noooo! This is great!! Loki's gonna lose it!" Natasha clutched her flapper's boa closer as she giggled.

"Thank you guys! I worked really hard on it!" You were incredibly proud of your look tonight. Black boots laced over your calves to your knees. The armour you'd pieced together from leather scraps and duct tape hugged your torso in green and gold flaring into a matching skirt. The best part was the flowing emerald cape that had started life as a satin sheet but now followed behind you like a green shadow.

Recreating Loki's horned crown had taken weeks of meticulous papier mache, sand paper and gold spray paint but damn, you felt like Asgardian royalty. Did Loki have this sense of power all the time? You shivered a little at the thrill of it.

Knocking back a long swig of your beer, laughing at Sam and Bucky dressed in those tuxedos from Dumb and Dumber, you realized this party was in full swing. Maybe that's why you were taken by surprise when a low, familiar voice crooned in your ear, "My queen."

Spinning on your heeled boots, you found Loki at your side, hands behind his back, smirk firmly in place. His eyes swept over you, taking in the details of your costume with a raised eyebrow, causing blue flames of excitement to curl low in your belly. You felt a creeping blush rise over you and channelling your inner God of Mischief you defiantly raised your chin Loki's direction.

"Yes... kitten?" Now, Loki called you kitten almost everyday, and it never failed to make you purr. Tonight, you used the endearment because the Trickster was dressed in a jet black three piece suit, black shirt and tie, with two tiny ebony cat ears on his head. His cheshire grin didn't hurt his ensemble at all.

"You look... well, almost as good as I do in that suit." His tone is light but you read a touch of approval in the mix. With a hand over his heart, Loki adds, "I'm honored that you went to all this trouble, little one."

Feeling emboldened by the role you're dressed for, you look down your nose at Loki, just like you'd seen him do countless times before. "Trouble? Not at all. This was something I had lying around. I thought these mortals would appreciate seeing a goddess in all her splendor."

Laughing, Loki replies, "Well you are certainly fearsome, my lady. And may I say, you have excellent taste."

You laugh too, "You may! Come on, let's get you a drink!" Grabbing Loki's hand in yours you pull him towards the bar. The crowd thins a bit as you get further from the music so it's easier to chat. Once you each have a cold beer, you perch on the countertop while Loki leans against the kitchen counter, again looking you over.

"I would be a beautiful woman." He stated wistfully. You snort, almost spitting up your suds. "I don't know about that, but you're a pretty sexy cat, Loki." You reached out and flicked one of the furry ears.

After a sip from his bottle Loki counters, "Of course I am." Curling his free hand into a claw, he does his best feline impression, "Meow!"

With a wide smile you casually say, "You dressed up. I wasn't sure you would."

"You said I could be anyone or anything." Loki's lip lifted into a knowing half smile. Nodding, you concede, "I did." Clinking the necks of your beer bottles together you flash Loki a slow smile. You draw your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at your black kitty cat, practically purring yourself. Loki watched your mouth move, his own lips parting slightly, as he leaned towards you.

You closed your eyes in anticipation of Loki's lip lock when you heard, "Reindeer Games! That is not an acceptable costume!! You can't just wear your battle gear..."

Tony stopped short when he saw your head snap around, golden horned crown bobbing slightly with your movement. Loki peeked at the intruder over your gossamer green shoulder. "Oh. My mistake. Great outfits. Party on." And with that Iron Man, dressed in a perfect replica of Elton John's glitter baseball uniform, swiped a bottle of vodka, and swaggered towards the noise.

"Wanna dance?" You're hopeful that he'll say yes because Loki is great on the dance floor, and he knows it. Grabbing you each a fresh beer, Loki nods, "Yes, my liege." And you laugh again at his deference to your implied title. "Then let's go!" Impatiently you stride back to the waiting crowd of friends singing and partying the night away.

The night passes in a blur of dancing, drinks and laughter. Everyone gets a kick out of you as Loki. You play up the role, ordering people to kneel like he would usually do, cracking sarcastic comments and snide remarks with regularity. You're overconfident and you're high on the bossy bitch this get up brings out in you.

"Kitten, grab me another, will you?" Rubbing under his chin like you'd do to a real little black kitty cat, you stroke one of Loki's velvet ears sweetly before brushing a kiss over his lips. He moans softly at your gentle petting and murmurs, "I think this kitten is ready to call it a night, darling."

You catch his eye and see what he's really saying. It's bedtime, not lights out, something that causes a blush to rise over you. Swaying away from Loki you tease, "You got it, cool cat."

Goodbyes take forever because all of you are well over the tipsy line. Wanda squeezes you for five minutes, unwilling to part from you, trying to tell you a story that she swears is hilarious but you just can't seem to follow. Tony tries to steal your crown but you wrestle it away just in time, blocking Steve from snatching it back again. You wave at Natasha but she's got Bucky pinned under her on the sofa, his orange top hat perched on her head and his hands on her ass.

Loki was waiting for you at the elevator, doors open. "How did you leave everybody?"

"Natasha and Bucky are totally hooking up tonight!" It spilled out of you with a drunken laugh as you stepped inside the mirrored moving cube. Pushing the down button with a skeptical smile Loki asked, "Really? Any other odd couples come out your costume convention?"

Suddenly serious, you step into Loki's space saying, "I'm going home with a black cat. That's fairly odd, since, ya know... I'm allergic to cats."

"I promise you, this tom cat is hypoallergenic. No mangy fur... no troublesome litter box." Boxing Loki against the reflective wall, your eyes lock on his ice blue ones, "And is he well behaved? I don't want a naughty kitty in my bed."

Swallowing thickly, Loki husked, "Maybe just a little." You pushed your body into his, collapsing the space between you, kissing along his throat. Loki lifted his chin with a hungry moan as you nipped his Adam's apple, leaving your mark on his pale skin. Grazing your lips over his strong jaw you make sure to pay extra attention to that sensitive spot just under his ear, where tendon and muscle meet.

"Good kitty." Your whispered praise makes Loki blush faintly, his trousers tighter now, as his body responds to your devious teasing. Pushing away from him when the elevator dings, you clasp his hand and drag an excited Loki into the night air.

With your heavy boots and swirling cape it seems like your stride has widened. There's a power in you that dressing like The Trickster has released and it made you feel other wordly. If you were behaving like your god, cocksure and dominate, then Loki was a mewling furball right now, content to be led wherever you went. You lace your hand to Loki's and start steering you both through the neighborhood, back to your home.

It takes a little bit longer than normal as the streets are full of Halloween party people enjoying the chance to be different for a night. You have your keys ready so it takes no time to slip it into your lock. As you bend over, ready to turn the knob, you feel Loki at your back. His strong hands roam over your hips tugging you into his hard, honed body.

"Uh uh little kitten. It's not time to play just yet." You admonish him while forcing him to release you. "Darling!" It was a whine. You'd never heard Loki beg before and the sound of it made your core clench, unchecked excitement coursing through you. Stepping inside, finally, you didn't pause for a drink or a trip to the ladies room. No, you stomped right into your bedroom, Loki in tow.

There's a moment right before snowflakes start their fall when all the world waits in quiet silence for the flurry to begin. A beat, maybe two, where the balance of nature breathes before being tipped one way or another.

This night, when you faced Loki across your soft carpeted floor, dressed in a replica of his armor, you felt that peaceful pause. Loki stood beside your closed door, eyes snapping with unreleased heat, looking sweet as homemade sin, in that black double breasted suit with pointed pussy cat ears and a hungry grin.

To him you looked like a vision come to life. Where Loki was long and angled hidden in that leather and steel, you were curvy and soft. The corseted costume accentuating your bust, those tall boots lengthening your legs, even the helmet looked sexy and dangerous framing your sweet face.

"Loki..." Reaching out a hand to him, you felt the world tip into frenzy as the flurry started.

It took him two steps to reach you. One hand wrapped around your waist, tucking you into Loki's side, the other curled around your neck, supporting it, as your mouths met. Feasting on your lips like a starving man, Loki deepened the kiss when he buried his hand in your hair and pulled your head back firmly. You felt his other hand brush over your ass cheek before Loki squeezed down hard.

Moaning, "Loki... Loki..." you were being driven out of your mind by his talented tongue. His hand followed the hem of your skirt and you moaned when you felt Loki's fingers slide under the elastic leg of your panties.

Placing a flat palm against Loki's chest, you push away from his embrace. He lunges for you once more but you wiggle free of his grasp, cheeks enflamed and breathing hard. You stop to straighten your helmet before asking, "Little kitten... your goddess has a question for you. Why is no one licking my thighs?"

Loki growls, sounding like an actual rabid animal, as he stalks over to where you're standing by the bed. He shoves you down to the mattress, following you into the soft surface, and kisses you deeply again.

"Be gentle, little kitten..." You teasingly remind the dark prince who is laying between your parted knees. Looking down at you like a cornered mouse, your black cat promises, "You're going to find out that kitties have claws, lovey."

Without pausing, Loki's palms push roughly over your long leather boots. You sigh when his rough skin connects with the smooth satin of your inner thighs. He follows the path blazed by his hands with his moving mouth. A lick, teeth tasting, thumbs kneading, trailing closer to your apex, warm and wet and waiting. Loki switches sides, searing his route to your molten core into your memory.

Reaching for him, you run your hands through his long dark locks, fingers connecting with those little furry triangle ears. You groan when Loki yanks down your underpants, pulling them free over your footwear. Echoing your need, Loki chuckles, "Look at this... my queen, wet and writhing before me. Being me for a night did this?"

Eager to get Loki back to business you counter, "Yes... it feels... amazing."

Rich laughter bounces around your bedroom as Loki says, "It certainly does! Listen, I really like this suit, so give me a moment, won't you darling?"

Sitting up on your elbows, cape bunched beneath you, legs open obscenely you stare at Loki, already loosening his tie. "Um... your queen is NOT ok with taking a break. Get over here and finish what you started!"

One arm free from his dark coat, Loki freezes. "To do that I need to be unencumbered by these clothes, my lady."

Huffy now, you grumble something about rotten timing and shimmy your skirt off without leaving the bed. Loki's shirt buttons are abandoned as he watches you, naked below the waist, corset and cape still shrouding you, helmet on but askew. It's ridiculous and righteously sexy.

"I'm just gonna do it myself. Don't worry Loki, I've got it." You move your hand down your soft tummy, closer to your throbbing clit, anticipating the firmness of your arousal.

"Wait! That's not fair!" He has one leg out of his trousers, hopping around, trying to get them off so he can get back to getting you off.

"Fair schmair, kitty cat." Your fingers spread your lower lips, sweetly dipping into your wetness, the friction making you shiver. Loki, naked except for those ears, locked a tight hand over your wrist. "Allow me."

You try to shrug him off but Loki is able to bring your hand to his lips. Slowly he draws those tasty fingers into his warm mouth savoring your flavor. Blue eyes piercing yours, Loki drops your hand, saying "Now... my troublesome little dictator, this kitty thinks you need a tongue bath."

It's your turn to growl. Loki's strong hands fan over your hips, sliding seductively over your legs. You gasped when he jerked your booted knees over his broad shoulders bringing your liquid center closer to his hungry mouth. Exhaling a hot breathe against your aching cunt, Loki chuckled lowly as you thrust forward, searching for his touch.

Your sigh of frustration turned into a squeal of pleasure when Loki licked firmly through your drenched skin. Flicking his tongue over your clit with tiny licks, like a cat lapping at milk, Loki had you near to climax in minutes. His cat ears tickled the rarely touched place where your pelvis meets your thigh, sending shivers through you. With a rough bite to your straining nub, he pulled away. "Loki! Keep going!", you practically shouted.

But you needn't have bothered. Slowly circling your fleshy pearl, Loki drew it between his soft lips, sucking lightly. You bucked against this delicious torment but Loki's grip on you tightened. His thumbs opened your dripping slit, giving him full access to plunder your depths with his articulate fingers.

Rocking your hips against Loki's hand, his mouth still taking nips and nibbles of you, your orgasm gains power. Your breathing catches, happy hums streaming out of you, as your inner walls tighten around Loki's driving digits. "Loki...... I'm going to cum..." It's a warning and a promise.

"Oh, sweetling, let go. Let me feel the power of your pleasure!" When Loki pressed down on your clit while curling his fingers against your velvet walls you lost your battle with control. First your muscles locked together in glorious, bone cracking tension, then you fell apart like a puppet with cut strings.

Loki stroked your silken skin through your climax, easing your body back to earth. Instead of stealing your energy, your release made you want more. Rolling up onto your knees you reach for your little kitten, tangling a hand in his ebony locks, before forcing your lips together.

You rush your hands down Loki's strong core, over the corded muscles of his abdomen, stopping at the heavy length of his cock. Through gritted teeth Loki sighs, "Careful darling."

"Would you be careful, my kitty cat? I don't think so." Sliding your soft palm along his steel length, you add a touch of pressure, and rub your thumb across his glistening head. Stroking Loki, you kiss him again, your tongue working against his mouth to the same rhythm as your hand.

Loki breaks your grip with a strained groan. "Inside you. I have to be inside you.", he whispers as he drops his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes.

Tenderly you sigh, "Fuck, Loki. That's hot."

Smiling broadly, he nods, "I know, Right?"

Before you can respond, Loki's laid himself on your bed, back resting upon the headboard, his erection proud and ready. "Come here!" Patting his lap, excitement evident, he's in a rush for you to join him.

Pausing to unzip the restricting corset you've been in all night, you let it and the satin cape slide off your shoulders but you keep the boots on. Loki's eyes drink in your gorgeous body, his bottom lip held in anticipation. You reach up to remove the paper helmet hugging your brow only to stop when Loki hummed, "Keep it on."

Giggling softly you nod. There's something carnal about your near nudity which makes you feel emboldened. It's that same power you had in Loki's costume, the feeling of infinite possibilities, all uniting for you. The thrill of it makes you slick with need for the wicked man you're straddling between your thighs.

Your pelvis streched over Loki's, his straining cock pressed between your bodies, those large hands of his molded to you hips. Stroking his length once more, you raised up on your knees and guided him into your tunnel. Loki pushed down on your curves, driving himself inside of you with glorious purpose in one stroke.

Stuttering out a curse word, your head fell back, exposing your neck to Loki and his ravishing lips. With his strong arms pulling you tighter, you rolled your being onto his, taking more and more of Loki's body each time.

When his lips found your breast you groaned. Out of instinct you gripped Loki's head and pulled him closer. His hands drifted down your spine, over your ass cheeks, and hugged you tighter than you thought possible. Your nipples were covered in wet kisses, faint impressions of Loki's teeth were red on your skin, and still you wanted more from him.

Grinding together, your sensitive bud rubbing so deliciously against Loki, your body nears the peak of its passion. His grip on you drags you down, harder and harder, spearing your spiral of desire. Your tender walls shudder around the hard heat of his member. "You're going to cum, little one. I can feel it. Please, please cum for me."

The humid breath of his broken whisper in your ear sends your body into bliss. Shuddering around Loki's bones, you hear him grunt and hold your hips wide over his own as he spills his sexual release into your receptive skin. Gripping him hard enough to bruise, you're locked together, sharing a single body... a single breath.

It takes you both a long while before your breathing returns to normal. Never taking his precious blue eyes off of yours, Loki brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I hope my queen is satisfied..." he teases.

"Hmmmmm... yes... yes she is... and my scary black cat?", you ask as you flick one of the flocked ears, now slightly askance. "Oh, he'd purr in pleasure... if that were possible."

Loki stirs inside of you making you jump. "Wait... please. Just a little longer, Loki." You're not ready to let go of his body, his spirit, his heart, just yet. Wrapping your arms across his shoulders, you rest your chin in the crook of Loki's neck and idly play with a lock of his hair.

"Loki?" You murmur, drowsy and still a teeny bit tipsy.

"Yes, darling?" He turns his bright eyes to yours.

"Next year we're going as Westley and Buttercup, from The Princess Bride..." You yawn and slide off Loki's lap, wrapping the comforter around you both.

With a gentle smile, Loki answers, "As you wish, little one."

[pinnithin-writes]

I Realized. Then I Couldn’t Stop Realizing.

Chapter 7: C-53

Depending on where he looked, it was still beginning.

“Wow, you really have a thing for organics.”

C-53 hummed innocently. “I can’t say I have any idea what you’re talking about, Bargie.”

After he and Pleck had cleaned up the medical mess in the kitchen, the tellurian had disappeared in search of his old Zima scrolls, leaving C-53 alone in the common area. Well, as alone as one could be on a sentient ship. The Bargarian Jade’s attention span was selective, so one could never be sure whether they were being actively observed at any time.

“I saw what just happened,” Bargie said. “The tension between you two is - well, let’s just say it’s high. It’s very high.”

“That was a private conversation,” C-53 responded, somewhat defensively.

“If you wanted to have a private conversation, you should’ve had it off the ship,” Bargie said matter-of-factly.

“We’re in space ,” C-53 argued. “And I don’t see how this means I have a thing for organics.”

“Aw, come on,” Bargie’s rough voice insisted on the loudspeaker. “I know what I saw when we accessed each other’s memories a few years ago. You definitely have a type.”

“So do you,” he shot back, deflecting.

“Oh, I have a type?” Bargie exclaimed, affronted. “Do you know who I’ve dated?”

C-53 tuned his audio sensitivity down as the ship launched into a monologue about her exes. Out of courtesy, he uploaded a subroutine to offer various hmm s and ah s as a placeholder for listening while his cube went elsewhere.

Whether he returned Pleck’s feelings was not the priority right now. His friend needed help, and C-53 was going to help him. It was as simple as that; there was no need to complicate things with whatever feelings he may or may not have for the tellurian. So what if he had a type? That didn’t apply to the current situation - Pleck was different. He was vulnerable, and it would be unfair of C-53 to take advantage of that.

He was becoming increasingly overwhelmed with tenderness every time he laid scanners on Pleck, and his loader programming urged him to stick a label on him that read FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE. That particular instinct was easier to bypass than the instinct to lift, and he was left wondering if picking Pleck up had been a good idea after all. His one-eyed stare, aching and exhausted, had stirred something in C-53.

At least it had gotten his message across. I, C-53, am going to care about you. On purpose. Whether you like it or not.

He had to set his romantic notions aside. There were more important things to worry about right now. He dimly registered Bargie still steamrolling overhead with her story, and he broke in respectfully.

“That’s all very interesting, Bargie, but I don’t see how it helps me.”

The ship sighed cantankerously. “I’m just sayin’ you’re gonna have to confront this sooner or later,” she said.

“Hm,” C-53 considered. “I think I’m going to choose later.”

---

“Okay, I brought all the scrolls we got copies of from the library and uh, all the originals I have that Nermut didn’t make into a nest,” Pleck said around the box of papers in his arms.

He carried them over to the dining table, pausing when he saw the pre-existing mess of administrative documents, campaign flyers, and junk mail that already cluttered its surface. Hardly anyone used the table for eating these days.

C-53 watched bemusedly as Pleck nudged the mess aside to make space for his new mess, dumping the contents of the box out. This was not going to be a very organized process. Things involving Pleck rarely were.

“Are these texts all about the Zima religion in general, or you specifically?” he asked.

“Ah, well,” Pleck paused to brush a lock of hair out of his eye, gazing down at his chaotic archive. “The thing is, I don’t really know how to interpret all of them? I mean,” He began to shuffle through the stack, “there’s… here, this one says my actual first and last name,” he extricated a page and held it out for C-53 to read.

“A ticking clock, in which Pleck Decksetter stands, to spin and draw nearer to the void, ” the droid echoed aloud.

Pleck nodded, grimacing. “But then, like, then there’s this one,” he unrolled a tight ream of parchment and recited,

“Whose stick is that? I think I know. Its owner is quite happy though. Full of joy like a rainbow, I watch him laugh. I cry hello.”

C-53 paused. “That sounds… dumb,” he said.

Pleck chuckled, rolling the parchment back up. “A lot of it is pretty dumb,” he admitted. “And I don’t know what all is relevant to, y’know, my whole thing, and what’s just some old Zima getting creative with their meditations on the Space.”

“Well, let’s see if we can’t sort them out,” C-53 said, lowering his frame enough so that he could read the texts from his vantage.

That was their afternoon, reviewing and puzzling over the pile of ancient scrolls. C-53 had never given the Zima religion itself that much thought, but the more they dug into their teachings, the more he was convinced it was mostly just nonsense. He did have to give them some credit, though. A few of the scrolls had predicted Pleck’s life almost exactly. It was… kind of eerie, if he was being honest.

The crew wandered in and out while they worked, checking in on their activities curiously but quickly losing interest once they realized they were essentially just studying. At one point, AJ asked if he could help, and they gave him a flowery poem to slog through until he gave up after about ten minutes.

“You did a good job, AJ,” Pleck smiled as the CLINT left the room to find something else that would hold his attention. “You’ll get it eventually.”

Pleck was looking significantly more relaxed since that morning, C-53 noticed. His shoulders had returned to their usual easy slope and his smile sprang readily to his face. The droid found himself distracted from his task on more than one occasion, choosing instead to fixate on Pleck’s careful hands as he leafed through papers, or his delicate neck as he bent low to decipher some stray scribble. By the time the evening rolled around, they had stopped trying to make sense of the scrolls altogether, and were instead pointing out ridiculous lines to one another.

“Wait wait wait, here, check out this one,” Pleck brandished a photocopy in C-53’s face, barely containing his laughter.

“To pass through the eye, one must first pass through the butt?” C-53 read aloud, incredulous. “Do they mean literally?”

Pleck was fighting to get the words out through his giggling. “Who wrote this? This was a Zima?”

“This is a sacred text .” C-53 insisted. “A sacred religious text. This is your religion, Pleck.”

The tellurian shook his head, still laughing, as he set the paper aside. “Good Rodd.”

“Oh, here’s a good one,” C-53 raised a careful claw to slide one of the documents in Pleck’s direction.

Seeing the grin spread across his friend’s face was like watching a sunflower bloom. “Oh my Rodd,” he exclaimed, “is this a love poem?”

“Heaven hath no elegance like you, my radiant swan,” C-53 recited the first line, his vocal modulator lilting with his own laughter. “I have no idea why this was preserved as an ancient text.”

“We’ll put that one in the ‘dumb’ pile,” Pleck said, cheeks still rosy with mirth. He was smiling wide enough to show off his dimples, and it was a pleasant sight to C-53’s scanners.

They continued to shuffle through papers in companionable silence. Pleck managed to assemble a fairly linear timeline of his own prophecy, and was attempting to piece it together with anything that seemed relevant. He had a better eye for patterns in the texts than C-53 did, something that the droid was surprised by. Perhaps deciphering the ancient words of the Zimas was something that was only inherent to other Zimas.

“C-53, look,” Pleck exclaimed suddenly. “I thought I had lost this one. It’s the scroll you’re mentioned in.” He excitedly uncurled the parchment and held it flat against the table.

C-53’s head tilted with interest. “ I’m in the Zima scrolls?”

“I mean, you’re not mentioned by name,” Pleck admitted. He scooted the scroll toward the droid so he could get a better scan on it. “But I’m pretty sure it’s talking about you. Based on, y’know, context.”

And the humidifier will rise from its slumber Newly untethered, a free soul in a rectangle And the Great One will feel a lump in his throat To wonder if this appliance would entrust his soul to him

“Wow, this is… very specific,” C-53 commented. His coding was already drawing connections for him about the implications this had on his and Peck’s relationship. He was inclined to dismiss it as mindlessness, like so many of the other texts, but a small, irrational part of him clung to the words. Was the tellurian meeting him destined? Better question: did C-53 want it to be?

“Yeah, I thought it was weird that they included that,” Pleck said, pulling the scroll back.

“You were worried I didn’t trust you?”

“Well, I mean-” Pleck’s ears reddened. “Up until that point you’d had your restraining bolt on, so I couldn’t be sure.”

C-53 nodded pensively. “True, I didn’t have a lot of allowance for personal expression back then.”

Pleck gave a small exhale of a laugh. “Yeah, it was like you became a totally different droid after that.”

“It was a punishing part of my life, to be sure.”

Pleck’s eye brightened. “Remember that time Nermut made you pick up that marble over and over again for like, an hour?” he asked, turning his sunny grin on C-53.

“Oh, Rodd, yeah,” the droid sighed, amused at the memory. “And you and Dar asked me to do it all sexy so I’d actually have some fun with it?”

“That was great, I really enjoyed that.”

“Oh, you did?” C-53 prompted, servos humming. “You enjoyed that?”

“No, I mean like-” Pleck went a darker shade of pink. “Not like, sexually, it was - I was just-” he stopped, gathered his thoughts, and restarted. “It was nice to see you having fun, is all,” he said. His smile softened as he reminisced.

C-53’s voice lost its teasing edge. “It was nice,” he agreed. “I’m glad we were able to become friends despite our initial differences.”

“Yeah…” Pleck trailed off, staring up at the droid earnestly. “Yeah, me too.”

Rodd, C-53 felt he was going to combust in that pure sunshine smile. He would fight wars and burn down cities to keep it safe.

Chapter 6 <-----> Chapter 8

[weepylucifer]

for @electricpentacle​: 36: “Don’t move, it’ll be okay.”

Spoilers for Picard finale, proceed with caution!!

Hugh strongly disliked regeneration.

He was thankfully past that phase where he had to plug himself into a charger at night. He slept in a bed, like a person, now, and only some of his implants got plugged into anything. Still, blacking out for hours on end, surrendering control of his body to a daily fit of unconsciousness, made him vaguely uncomfortable at the best of times. He much preferred being up and about. So when he woke up with no memory of having gotten horizontal and a sudden, searing, encompassing pain coursing through him as he attempted to move, his mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion, every xB’s nightmare. Oh shit, they’re scrapping me for parts.

He had to get out of here, wherever here was. He was not restrained. Foolish of them, giving Hugh a chance to escape. He tried to sit up - again the pain - but he had to be more than the pain - it drove tears to his eyes, wrung an animal sound from his throat, somewhere between a cry and a whimper - no time for that now -

Suddenly there was a shape blocking out the light, a silhouette, someone... and hands, hands on Hugh, not hurting, not yet, but restraining, pressing him back down.

Hugh wasn’t a fighter, hated the concept, but... rats, the Romulans called them, him and all the xB. Cornered, a rat would fight. Even though it hurt like a thousand red-hot needles, he brought his arm up to shield himself against the intruder. None of his remaining implants were weaponized (which was a good thing, Hugh barely knew which end of a phaser to point where) but he could kick and scratch and bite and

“Please, calm yourself,” urged a vaguely familiar voice above him. “Please, you’re hurting yourself. Shh. Don’t move, it’ll be okay.”

“You’re going to take me apart!” How was any of this okay?

“Oh... no, my friend, I’d never. I pledged myself to your cause.”

The word friend broke through the daze, that and how sincerely shocked the voice sounded. Hugh blinked, breathed, attempted to assess. His artificial eye was swimmy, only slowly coming back online. He tried to squint the natural one and discern the shape above him. He knew that person.

Ah. A lithe frame, long strands of hair, high cheekbones, the tips of pointed ears, concerned eyes peering down at him from under elegantly slanted eyebrows. Attractive, Hugh’s mind supplied, a useless assessment. Mouthy Romulan.

“Elnor?”

Elnor gave him a shaky smile. “You’re finally awake.”

With his vision clearing as pain ebbed away, Hugh looked from Elnor to his surroundings. He was in his own bed, in his own room. Oh yes, he had a bedroom on a Borg cube now. Living space carved out on a Borg cube, where no organic living was supposed to happen, was by nature sparse, impersonal, and Hugh’s attempts to make the room his own in the past had yielded... mixed results. There was his desk and work station, where he performed impromptu maintenance on his implants, there were pictures on the walls of his friends, (the crew from his original cube, the very first xBs, Geordi at their latest meeting), there was the little rainbow flag that Geordi had gifted him for his last naming day. Little touches of color against the oppressive dark of the walls, but Hugh liked to think he’d managed to impress his personality on the formerly Collective-dominated space.

How had he gotten here? Had Elnor... brought him here? But how would Elnor know where he lived?

Hugh noticed that Elnor was squeezing his hand. Rather tightly, too. “Where... what happened?”

Elnor’s eyes turned wide and distant as he was reliving the memory. “You got stabbed. The Zhat Vash agent...”

“Yes, yes. After.” Hugh remembered being stabbed. Remembered Narissa slaughtering his people, innocents, only just on the cusp of finding back to themselves. All that potential, so many healed and vibrant lives in potentia, snuffed out and tossed away like so much garbage. This was how they perceived his people. This was how they’d always treat his people. How’s that for a lost cause?

“Seven of Nine, she put you in a... she called it an alcove,” Elnor said. “For a while you stood and healed, like the inactive drones we saw. It made me feel a bit uncomfortable. Then she had me take you here. It’s better. You are crying.”

“Seven is here?” Hugh raised a hand - it was weak, it was trembling, he’d lost a lot of blood, apparently he’d brushed up against death - and wiped his eyes. He wanted to get to the bottom of what had transpired here, learn why Seven was here, how many xB had survived, what he could do next, how he could help next - but he also wanted to cry. To mourn those he’d failed to protect in any substantial way. A good cry can work wonders - that was one of the pithy Geordi wisdoms he’d gotten over the years. But he also wanted to move on already, to get back to work.

“How long was I out? What else was going on?”

Elnor cocked his head. The movement caused a strand of his hair to shift from its queue. So long, Hugh’s mind supplied. Nice to put my hands in there, potentially. He dismissed it. Individuality meant untidy thinking, sometimes. Thoughts drifted, got hung up on matters that were irrelevant.

“A lot,” Elnor was saying. “I think Soji almost destroyed the world, but then she reconsidered. The cube is stranded now. Picard was dead, but he’s now recovering. There are no more Zhat Vash here. I’m sorry, I don’t know how many xBs are still alive, but they’re attempting to fix everything here. The Synths over at the settlement have started talking to the Federation...”

“Hold on a moment.” Hugh raised a hand and waved it weakly. “Synths? Dr. Asha almost destroyed the world? They stranded the Artifact? Picard was dead? How did I miss all this?”

Elnor was still holding his other hand. Now he gave it a few pats, seemingly absentminded, not even noticing he was doing it. “You had to heal for a while. Seven says it was to be expected, since you’ve not been Borg for so long. But now you’re awake.” Elnor let out a long, shaky exhale. His shoulders slumped. Whatever had gone on lately, it was evident that Elnor had been through a lot. “Now you’re awake.”

“Hey now,” Hugh murmured, squeezing Elnor’s hand back briefly. The guy liked physical contact, right? Hugh seemed to remember this. He sat up a little - it was already much easier now - and reached out for a one-armed hug.

Elnor reciprocated with enthusiasm, throwing both arms around Hugh and holding on for dear life. It was a tight squeeze, and another burst of pain echoed through Hugh’s body, but it passed, and he appreciated all the rest of it. Elnor was a warm weight pressed against him, solid, grounding, comforting, and he even allowed Hugh to rest his head on his shoulder for a moment. This was a good hug.

Would be nice... him and me like this, Hugh thought. Would be nice to see if he kisses as good as he hugs. Need only move a slight bit... Again, there was very little telling where that had come from. Hugh shook his head and broke away from the immediate contact. Elnor’s arms slipped off him, resting to both sides of him on the bed, still close, still warm, still bracing.

“We should get going on,” Hugh said. “I should talk to Seven, find out what exactly I missed.”

Elnor nodded. “She stayed on the station. I can take you there. The Synths let us come and go as we please now.”

Synths, huh. Hugh flicked his eyes shut for a moment. He had opposed the Synth ban when it had happened, out of principle, even as the phrase Soong-type android was still, even all these years after Lore, liable to give him a tension headache.

“But I feel discomfort,” Elnor continued. Ah, something something absolute candour.

Hugh tried to shift away from him. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Not with you,” Elnor clarified. “But today... these previous days have been... so much. And I felt wonder, and joy, and fear, and grief, and I thought you were dead, and we all almost died, and Picard actually died, although he’s doing much better already. And it’s a long walk from here to the station and I’m not sure you can do it yet. And I’d like to... sit, here, if that’s okay. We can still go later, right?”

Hugh raised an eyebrow. “You’d like to... just sit here?”

Elnor nodded. “Please. I like to see... I pledged myself to you, and it’s good to see you alive. I like to look... at you.” This truth came haltingly, with Elnor’s eyes downcast in what seemed like sudden shyness.

Hm, Hugh thought, filing that observation away for later. “Not much to look at here, but sure. We can take a moment.”

Somehow, their hands had enjoined again.

[snowtimeisbesttime]

Thoughts and questions on Pesterquest Volume 5, routes 1 and 2!

also: sollux for volume 6 (route 2) you (might have) heard it here first

-The trolls' Prospit is still perfectly fine when we see it, as we still haven't done away with SGRUB. In Kanaya's route we see Alternia's Reckoning, the Land of Little Cubes and Tea, and our favorite rainbow drinker fan hunting for frogs in the clouds; meanwhile in Karkat's we straight up see his dreamself- who winks out of existence when he wakes up. John's did that too when he woke up after Prospit fell on the Battlefield, but I had thought dreamselves just teleported to their dream room's bed when the waking self woke up.

-Actually, I'm pretty sure we've seen dreamselves just existing on the moons when their counterpart is awake: John's before Descend, Vriska's in Make Her Pay, Dave's being on the computer and of course Dirk switching between dream and real selves, Roxy's flying out of Derse, Jane's when she dream revived (??), and maybe more I'm not remembering. Of course, dead dreamselves such as Aradia's or Jake's can't go anywhere.

-Possible candidates for Volume 6 basically trolls who were namedropped or had a cameo: Sollux (VERY likely imo, he had a good bunch of screentime in Karkat's route), Terezi (very likely too, as she's also a Peak Protagonist troll), Gamzee (less likely than the other two imo, though MC's been to his hive already), Vriska (could or could not........ it's a gam8le.)

-Worldbuilding: *happens* Me: *burning through my good note-taking pens*

~ROUTE 2~

-Now to Kanaya's route proper: she's got sunproof dresses just lying around. Very nice sunproof dresses, in fact. (the clothes collecting tradition goes on...)

-Rose immediately comes up on MC's mind when they look at Kanaya's room, though she's dealing with another Light player herself. Whose cameo here was practically expected, in hindsight. ::::)

-We find out that Vriska had been planning the whole Pupa Pan thing for Tavros for a good while. (Probably since she started planning Aradia's gift at least, though that was both a bigger project and also an... easier-to-see fix to what she'd done to her).

-And now that we've seen Kanaya's side of this, the panel where she finds out what the dress was for hurts a lot more.

(-actually kanaya spends a good bunch of her entire volume being sad??? and so does karkat??? and ofc jade did too????? That’s Fucking Illegal Let My Children Be Happy At Once)

-mc still remembers their movie date with polypa...... the feelings at least

-MC encourages Kanaya to finally tell Vriska how she feels, and it turns out she wants to be matesprits too... and it ends horribly. (Rose's bad route also seemed to be going perfectly well until it didn't).

-We don't know how much of the week she was out was spent travelling between their respective hives, though. (did she fucking run there and back???)

(-Kanaya's heart eyes, motherfucker sprite has jade eyes while Karkat's terrified sprite has grey eyes. Further fancy-eyed friends will probably have their associated color as well.)

-And by the time Vriska might have felt what Kanaya felt (the 3-way showdown) instead of just using her for her own benefit, it was too late.

-Bright colors seem to be a rainbow drinker thing, specifically? As opposed to being Alternian goth... (daraya's route explicitly states that she looks goth because she's wearing a lot of black, when she's actually one of the Troll Call trolls that wears the least black. What is the truth? We just don't know....). Meanwhile, chainsaws seem to be the go-to weapon of rainbow drinker hunters, like stakes are for us...

-Kanaya doesn't want a vampire gf, she wants to be the vampire gf! And before MC realizes that, they come way too close to a bunch of murderzombies. Now we know they can choose who they zap with them, with potentially disarming side effects!

-Undead blood is black like His Honorable Tyranny's, and probably something you should NOT put in your mouth.

-Sadly, Kanaya doesn't get to actually talk to the Tentacle Therapist herself, though she is assured that she'd like her. Mayhaps some other time, they will finally meet... hopefully in person.

~ROUTE 1~

-Weird knowledge of alien stuff absolutely takes a backseat to Friendship. Good to know retcon powers have an aim assist of sorts too.

-Karkat's theme gets a remix like John's Pesterquest one!!!!

-Karkat himself is as fucking zen as ever. And while he's got a wonderful good end (as in what happens -wise), his bad ends -all his routes even- are VERY much sadstuck to compensate.

(-Especially his short one... he finds out he's not the only being in the world besides his lusus with crimson blood, because he just murdered the other one... and then you think about how he immediately warms up to MC in his good route, and how he did the same with -past- Spades Slick, and then how his dreamself died in canon...)

-He can project his voice very well, just like a certain other someone who wore a cloak... Actually no shit he thinks ancestors are bullshit (besides vriska & eridan being 2 out of 3 trolls he knows that are into that stuff, and all that), his own's the most illegal one so neither him nor the aforementioned trolls he knows that are into that stuff would have found much stuff... (even Mindfang stuck to sneaking just the sym69ls in her journal).

-Did he paint his nails? If not, who did?

-Of course he'd notice this random alien was very warm. What he didn't know is that we're less cullable than we look like- case in point, Folykl. (actually, do we still have Plot Armor?)

-...Who was Gamzee talking to when we zapped into his broom closet? And why did Karkat freak out so much when he came close? He did know Gamzee was a clown, iirc... was he just leaking psychic spoops or what??

-The second Karkat finds out MC and him have the same blood color, they became friends in his eyes.

-Sollux (is here!!) kinda calls back to Dave in Volume 1, after Karkat and him finish their regular greetings and get to the point of the conversation. Hacking into the caste records is incredibly illegal, though Sollux's more than willing to risk being culled for Karkat*.

-We know there was an Adalov way before Hivebent time, but we don't know if that's our Adalov- and sadly MC doesn't get the chance to even hear that name. (it's too soon still.)

-How do we get rid of SGRUB? We take Karkat “The Fucking Leader” Vantas to Earth, obviously! Where he'll be able to play various skate games, bond with the kids over games left unplayed, and escape a certain death. Wonder how everyone’ll react to him disappearing...

-Narratively Unimportant Traits 1: dave loves olive garden's breadsticks!! Narratively Unimportant Traits 2: ...because he can eat a lot of them when otherwise he might not get to eat much of anything Narratively Unimportant Traits 3: karkat's been years perfecting hiding from drones that will kill him if they so much as detect his body temperature, and it's implied he may have been moving (will keep moving) from hive to hive as needed all this time because of the early warning systems, which warn him of his hive being about to go up in flames and killing everything inside it- including his lusus. We're in Hivebent's timeframe, but considering his good route's what takes SGRUB out, he might not even have turned 13 yet.

-Karkat's bad route ends with him just leaving, shrouded in Signless callbacks, after being put on a cull list not even retcon powers can escape from. ...That's also a way to get rid of SGRUB, I guess.

*Back to Sollux being a likely choice for volume 6- in Karkat's bad route, he repeatedly tells Karkat to come to his hive, after seeing him on the cull list and knowing there's drones after him. He knows and explicitly doesn't give a fuck about him being a mutant (though he doesn't seem to know how exactly is he a mutant). The last thing he tells him is “don't make me tell you how much i hate you.”

After that, he doesn't hear anything more from Karkat because he throws his palmhusk away, and then he just leaves into the wilderness. And even if we get the typical Friendsim timeline smoothie shenanigans, Karkat's on Earth in his good route and we don't know if he can still contact his friends. (Sollux can hear the imminently deceased. There's the chance that he might hear from Karkat one last time.)

If we do get the timeline smoothie, that's a hell of a motivation to seek out MC. (And even if we only follow the good route, Karkat still dropped off the face of Alternia after asking Sollux to hack the caste records and telling him MC was in his hive.)

[eteriv]

Unimportant opinion on siege

This is a 1k word rant so you don’t have to read it if you don’t want to

Ok before you start reading - I just want to remind you that this is just my opinion and you are free to disagree ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ This is just what I think. Also I mentioned some operators below in a questionable light so if you like that op don't get @ me, I have nothing against new ops, it's not an attack on your favourite character or anything.

Amount of Operators + lore and gameplay

I feel like I’m losing interest in the game the more ops are in the game. The new ops’ bios are more sophisticated and we know more info about their backgrounds and personalities but there are just too much characters to even care about them anymore. If you have 20 characters you can keep track of which one has what kind of personality and stuff, but if you have 50 characters they’re all just unimportant in that crowd. They’re all special on their own but when you look at them at once you might just be overwhelmed by all this. It’s not only about bios and lore, it’s about the game too. Imagine starting playing siege now, and having to remember maps, operator names and what their gadgets are. Might be easier for some people, but for ones like me it’s a nightmare since I can’t even remember my classmates names irl after 4 years of going to the same school together. Maybe I’m just stupid, but I think it would be hell to start playing the game with 100 characters already in it and you need to know at least the gadgets and ops names to callout. To be honest, I’d prefer if they stopped adding more operators to the game and focus on the ones that are already there. Add more personality to the old operators instead, make them more interesting, like with the Thatcher video they did. Make a lore events maybe, tell us some story like outbreak did. I know I’m stressing the lore too much already, but hey, every game with characters in it will need personality for them. In Team Fortress 2 for example, it’s just a team vs team shooter game like siege (well, it has different mechanic but you get what I mean)  there are only 9 characters and their personalities are really developed, it’s easy to remember each one of them and like them. Even a shooter game needs good characters okay? If you have just gray boring soldiers you’ll get bored sooner. And by adding so many new ops, even if they have rich story behind them they all get gray and boring in the crowd. I won’t say no one would read all ops bios and remember what are they like, but I know I wouldn’t. And I know that the more characters you have, the harder it is to include all of them in events/videos and such. You have a favourite operator? cool, now think that you have less and less chance of seeing them in a vid/event everytime ubi adds new children to their game.

Operators Gadgets

I think Ubi mentioned somewhere that they have ideas for around 100 ops gadgets, but their gadgets are starting to look unnatural, too futuristic or repetitive. Just look at sledge’s simple hammer and Mozzie’s auto hack spider, wth. I remember when Lesion first came out, I was really sceptical about invisible traps. I said something like “What next, invisible operator?’’ and boom, two seasons later Vigil joins the game. It started really realistic, like (i assume) what the game was going for, but now it starts to get more and more like some kind of sci-fi game. Hacking cams, phones, hacking drones, invisible traps, fookin laser sights, holograms.. what else, maybe add a jetpack. “But Eteerr” you say, “the base ops’ gadgets are not completely possible in the real world either” WELL they’re not, but still, they were simple. I might act like a grandpa yelling at kiddos’ technology now, but they were simple and I’d accept just a little bend in the ‘realism’ here. But they weren’t so unreal, they weren’t some electric claws that can stick to the ceiling, they weren’t holograms closed in a little cube. I get that without adding all those futuristic weird gadgets there would be less ops, but I already ranted on that in a paragraph above. Next thing is that the gadgets repeat. Let’s just look at Ash and Zofia, they’re almost the same except Zofia has some extra concussion grenades. In my unimportant opinion ubi could just give Zofia’s weapon to Ash as a weapon choice, like changing normal weapons. It would save ubi time and money making models, writing character profile and all this stuff, but just add another gadget variation to choose from, the game effect would be the same, but there would be just less characters and less mess. Same as Lesion traps could be given to Kapkan as a variation, Kaid’s claw to Bandit etc. I know it wouldn’t work for all of the ops but I just think it would work better if ubi let us customize gadgets instead of working on new ops and get their butts to work on better events. Events Their events suck. Outbreak was the best one of all we had so far, but it’s still shitty when you look at it closely. It had some story, but it wasn’t even clear what was happening. (or maybe it’s just me, I’m stupid) I liked the new game mode that went with it, the new models and map were really good, but I think it just had a lot of wasted potential. They had a chance to actually make an interesting story, and the only interesting thing that happened there was jager crashing his ass and had to be evacuated. I don’t know, what if they’d make Jager infected and go on with the story? Include some character interactions, other than just talking in an elevator? Seriously, sometimes I feel like fans would create better stuff than ubi. The Halloween event was a total trash. It was as lazy as it could be, it reused models from outbreak to make spooky ghosts, it wasn’t anything special but just a casual game with less operators and was played on one, slightly edited map. I must admit that Rainbow is Magic event was fine to play for me, because I love plane and they even let Bandit be in in the event but I can’t let myself be blinded by that cute pyroland vision and pink happy colors. The event mechanic is based on the same thing, one edited map, less ops to play and it’s just a casual game except of that. Plus all events have boring challenges. Destroy drones, destroy gadgets, kill people, headshot people.. On halloween event doing the challenges for those stupid event packs was pain and I have no clue why I even bothered wasting my time on playing it and getting those crazy numbers of kills or destroyed whatever-it-was. Maybe they thought that the challenges for packs should be harder to get, I don’t know? Then make them harder but don’t make them tedious. Finding and destroying 40 drones on that event feels like eating a tomato soup for an entire week, and at the end of the week you feel like you’d throw up. Okay, maybe not with this event, because this event has just 1 of those challenges but Outbreak and Halloween one felt like the soup metaphor. Ubi could just make the challenges event related, like for example shoot the flowers on the Rainbow is Magic one. Or split them to few parts of the challenge, for example destroy 10 drones + destroy 10 gadgets. Would be less tiring if you ask me.

Game modes

I see they’re trying to make events with less ops and stuff to make the game more interesting, or show you how pro league bans ops, or just different than the casual matches, but it turns out just more annoying. If you already have so many ops, why won’t you make other game modes to play, for example attackers vs attackers, on an open field - just like the ghost war mode in Ghost Recon Wildlands, or defenders vs defenders, with two biohazards or bombs where one team has to attack the other and at the same time look out for their own base. Or heck, even let the teams mix up and allow defenders + attackers vs defenders + attackers. Ubi has so many operators in the game already that there would be no problem with having more game modes without double operators in the match I believe. Or even if not a permanent game modes, those would make better events than playing casuals on one map with challenges that make you sick. Ubi come on, you can do better than this.

Ok rant over thanks for reading it all if you read it all, if it would be a game you’d get an achievement for it but it’s not so I guess you can just have my congrats

[differenttriumphdragon]

WHAT'S UP, EVERYBODY!?

Season 4 has arrived, and with it a multitude of changes to the game's framework.

We can't actually talk about all of 'em cause of the image limit, so check out the in-game announcements for yourself.

First, of course, we need to announce the Showdown results!

You know, the one we couldn't talk about 'cause Tumblr sucks? Anyways, I'm pretty confident that my team'll-

WHAT!? ARE YOU SERIOUS!? We even won the Twitter poll!!!

It pays to not slack off, Devil. You can't waste an early lead. Haven't you ever heard of The Tortoise and the Hare?

Since when do tortoises grow hair!? Aren't they reptiles or something? And what does that have to do with slacking off, anyway?

...

Still, almost 2 and a half billion obstacles, each...I'd kill for the kind of power you'd need for that.

It's definitely impressive to think about. You likely won't run into more than a few hundred obstacles in a run, and yet, you've all managed to break nearly five billion...

It really shows how dedicated both sides are to the game. We really couldn't ask for a better playerbase.

Yeah, so let's make this Season the best one yet!!!

Speaking of, it's time to introduce the new Breakout Episode!

Introducing the far off land of Yogurca: a thriving desert town loomed over by icy mountains and a Yeti rumored to be bent on freezing the continent.

So you're saying...it's a Desert Paradise?

Not if it freezes over, of course. It's said that Yogurca has mountains of hidden treasure waiting on its shores, as well as the secrets of the origin of Alchemy.

...Wait, Alchemist is getting a Magic Candy before ME!? But she's the WORST CHARACTER!!!

I didn't say that.

Hey, Vamp! If you're watching? GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN!!!

Also, so you're aware, Treasures can now only be used once in Breakout, just like Cookies and Pets.

Wait, what!? Even aside from the obvious, the Treasure Gatcha really hates giving you new Treasures! How are we even supposed to get enough!?

Actually, the new event might help!

The Special Treasure Draw has been slightly reworked; Now, you can select five different Epic Treasures to increase the chances of, instead of just one!

Five different Treasures? Kay. So, what if I don't know what I want?

You could always just set ones you haven't maxed. Or, you know, just keep drawing repeats forever.

You also have quadruple the chance of drawing an Epic Treasure. It's much easier to get them all!

So, hey, who's the guy in the corner?

That's Yogurt Cream Cookie! The son of a merchant, he collects vast hordes of treasures with the help of his three spirit companions. His power is similar to Alchemist's; whenever he slides up until his meter is full, the spirit he'll summon changes.

They're genies, right? Can we just call them genies?

His companion is Magic Lamp. No one knows for sure exactly why this Lamp is following him, or what it could be thinking.

I'll bet you a pound of Royal Dough it wants to curse him to be the fourth genie.

Yogurt Cream also has a Costume!

Huh. Is this what Yogurcan fashion is like? It looks like his coat is covered in ninja stars.

I'd assume this outfit is for the icy side of the country. Or at least, for those cold desert nights.

There's also a new Treasure!

...WAIT, I'VE GOT IT!!! If Peach is Sun Wukong, and Plum is Momotaro...Yogurt Cream must be Ali Baba!

Devil, not everyone is a mythological character. We've been over this.

So you want me to be more low-key about it?

*sigh*

By the way, there's one more big update!

Daily Quests have been changed!

By which you mean Cinnamon hijacked them, right?

Er...you're not wrong, per se...each day, he'll give you cards with tasks on them. Completing these tasks gives you valuable prizes, including lots of Rainbow Cubes!

Sweet! I might not have to use all my money on 'em anymore!

Anyway, that's all for-

Hold up!!! You're not even gonna show the new Jelly Set?

Which new Jelly Set, Devil?

My Again Set!!! Put the picture up!

Look at 'em! Look at how cute they are! They're perfect!!! The red one tastes like sweet potato fries, the black one tastes like cola, and the big one's the best ketchup you ever had!!! I top it off with the Red Dragon Bead Basic Jelly for that feeling of power I deserve!

...You don't have your own Basic Jelly yet, do you?

Look, it's weird giving myself virtual gifts, okay!?

Hehe...Well, until next time, everyone...

Heaven or Hell, let's rock!

...So, aside from a Magic Candy, what do you want from this Season, Devil?

Someone at Devsis to give a damn about me.

[moonlightreal]

Winx Club season 8/6

In which positive Winx thinking flops

6 Doom of the Lighthouse Star

I thought some more about Musa and Riven’s drama last episode and realized that they are acting totally in character.  They’ve both always been bad at opening up about their feelings.  So points to the writers for keeping them in character!  I’m still going to call them boneheads when they are boneheads though!

And something I found out: season 8 has a prize in the bottom of the box: ICY gets some BACKSTORY! Backstory!  Eight seasons and fifteen years and we know basically nothing about where the Trix come from!  They just turned up wanting to rule the magic dimension just because.  But now, backstory!  Of course it looks like pretty dumb backstory, and Darcy and Stormy don’t seem to get any-- but it’s still wonderful!  It’s still new canon!  And it might be the seed for season nine or the fourth movie; I can imagine Icy might try to get the Winx to help her with the stuff from her past and that could be a story.  (and if Rainbow doesn’t use the obvious plot opening then I can, so it’s a win either way...)

Anyway, no spoilers yet, we’ll get to that in episode twenty-whatever.  I can’t wait!

Meanwhile in the episode at hand, Twinkle and the Winx are following Orion’s ship to help save his star.  Twinkle has a friend who lives there.

In his ship Orion says he wouldn’t have been allowed back on his planet if he hadn’t brought the Winx along.  Hmm, was the dude banished?

They approach the star… or planet? It is a planet, but it may be supposed to be a star since here in season 8 it’s clear that stars are in fact solid bodies that lumens live on, rather than masses of incandescent gas like in our universe. So are ALL stars powered by lumens?  Magic dimension physics are weird.  

The heavenly body is dark and the girls are upset.  Stella feel sorry for the lumens of the star, and Flora worries that the planet’s plants won’t grow so people will go hungry.  Stella reassures her that Cosmix power can fix that!

Everybody flies down to a cool tower, the Winx land on top and Orion docks a little lifeboat ship.

This must be Irridia, because it’s populated by lumens-- purple ones with blank green eyes.  They hang back, and Stella says she was hoping for a more cheerful welcome! but when Orion arrives and points out the damage to the star’s core—it’s cracked, with pieces missing-- he gets swarmed by pissed-off lumens!  Turns out star-eaters drained the core and when Orion tried to fix it…

Orion: “it was...’

Musa: “An epic fail?”

Orion: Un...fortunately you’re right.”

Love his expressions!  Orion is so cool, I wish it wasn’t half ‘cause he’s a stolen character design, but still, he’s just so great!

Twinkle and the Winx reassure the lumens that they can totally fix the core, so the lumens let them try.  Cosmix zapping!  

...fail!  

This star core is too damaged to hold the energy!  The Winx apologize; they didn’t know how bad the damage was when they said they’d help.  But Orion freaks out and yells, he’s “had enough of your worthless promises!”  Dude, it was only one promise and they didn’t have all the facts.  Still it was a little overconfidant of the Winx to be so sure they could handle it!

And we cut to Valtor’s fortress! He’s watching and he thinks this is great!  Obscurum chortles on about the fortress he’s going to have when he’s king of Lumenia. He says he’ll have a throne room “greater and more comfortable” than Valtor’s!  Valtor growls and tosses him through the endless portal a few times, with a stop on the tongue of a strange giant crocodile. Ok.

I… kinda remember Valtor having more dignity than to have such a dumb minion.  With Kalshara at least it was her brother.

But before he can rethink his life choices too much, Valtor is distracted by his magic-TV.  Twinkle is bemoaning their sad and sorry fate.

Orion is still pissed off.

Stella sensibly says just because their first try failed doesn’t mean they really failed; they just have to try something else!

Flora wants to abandon Irridia and go to the planet to save the plants there.  The others don’t want to abandon the lumens.

Tec gets the idea to build a machine to fix the core but Musa reminds her that Orion trying to fix it caused this mess.  Tension among the Winx!  Musa suggests they split the party but calls on Bloom for the final vote.  Bloom says they have to stay together and fix the star, she does the “I know we can do it!”

But Orion is not convinced, he says he’s hearing lots of promises but no plans.  He feels betrayed!  He storms off!

Bloom does the, ‘Together we can do this!  Who’s with us?”

The purple lumens all turn and leave.

Ahahahaha!

The girls walk through the lumen city—this tower is actually a lumen city, the lights on it are windows of lumen dwellings.  The girls look very nuetral-faced, enough that I’m noticing that the animation style doesn’t have much emotional range.  It seems like they should look and sound more upset after this failure plus getting ditched by their new friend and a bunch of lumens.

Musa gets a text from Riven asking how things are going with “Orion the thief”.  Stella suggests maybe don’t answer until things start going a little better.  Heh.

Orion has jetted off in his wonderful ship to go steal some more “light rubies” and solve the problem without any help.  When he gets a call!  A portal opens and there’s Valtor calling with a proposition!  He’ll fix the star if Orion gets rid of the Winx.

Orion hesitates but is convinced by an image of his planet flourishing again.

“That fool will help us get rid of the Winx once and for all!”  Says Valtor, and I wrote it here because I am now counting times a villain says that.

Back on Irridia Twinkle’s girlfriend appears!  Ok, her BFF Lumilla who greets her with a glomp.  It’s pretty adorable.  Flora says, “I don’t think I’ve ever been that happy to see anybody.”

Then Orion appears.  He’s back with an apology and a plan!  Aisha’s skeptical but Orion has a gizmo—a “light enhancer” that will help the plants grow.  The girls can take it to Perlisha and set it up.

Musa texts Riven that Orion is a good guy after all.

On the ship Helia asks Riven what’s up.  Riven’s still mad at Orion who did after all steal a bunch of rubies and send the boys all over to return them.  The rest of the specialists tease Riven about being jealous.  Sigh.

Twinkle and Lumilla in a lumen house! It looks… about like you’d expect, like a fairy house.  Round table, stools that almost look like they were made from drawer knobs. Lumilla makes tea.  He tea bags are star shaped and so are the sugar cubes!  It’s adorable!  Lumilla has a kitty!  A white kitty with a star around his head, named Lumino.  So there are lumen animals like there are pixie animals?  A whole stellar ecosystem?  Also, this scene was cute and I want star shaped tea bags.

The girls are in their space clothes. They land on Perlisha, which has a lot of geysers.  The gizmo isn’t giving them much direction so Tecna reveals her newest invention: “Winxboards!”  Stella jumps on and immediately falls off.  

Hoverboarding montage!

There’s a fork in the path and again a fight.  Flora wants to go one way to try to help plants; Stella wants to go the other way which looks easier and safer.  Flora caves, but she’s still mad.  But a second later they’re giggling while hoverboarding so all is forgotten.  A second after that a geyser nearly knocks Flora off her board and she grumbles about it not being safer after all.

Then Orion’s gizmo beeps, they’ve found the right place.

It’s full of dying plants, and Flora gets upset.  She tries to help the plants with magic but can’t, guess they need real light.  This fight between Flora and Stella feels super forced, but it is nice to see Flora’s connection to nature coming up as a weakness, I like that.

Bloom activates the gizmo to provide light, but instead the ground starts shaking and… killer grabby robot arms from the ground!  The Winx get grabbed!

Stella and Flora are the only two not grabbed as the episode ends!

This episode wasn’t much except for the lumen house scene, but I’m watching ahead in Italian (because who isn’t!) and the next episode looks really cool.  Summary when the English appears, whenever that is!  

[callboxkat]

Infinitesimal (part 17)

Author’s note: Happy Monday! 

Warnings: food mention, fear

Word count: 1437

Look for the masterpost in the notes!

...

Logan and Roman had apparently decided that the three of them were all going to eat lunch together in the same room again. They brought in chairs, like before, from the kitchen, and placed them near the table Patton was seated on.

Roman placed two items on the table in front of him. Patton scooted forward once both humans had sat down, pulling both objects towards himself. One was the bottlecap containing his lunch, which he was eager to dig into, but he took a second to inspect the new item first: a fork. It was pale blue, slightly wide for Patton’s hand; but with a little shaving of the handle and some sharpening of the tines, it would be perfect. It would things much easier even before he got the chance to make those modifications. Why would the humans give him this? He looked up, searching for an answer, but all the human did was gesture at his food as if to say, “go ahead”.

The three of them started to eat. Patton had never had a food quite like this one. It had rice and carrots and peas, all of which he had had before, but there were also some little cubes of a weird spongey thing that he didn’t recognize.

“This is called tofu,” Roman supplied after a moment, holding up a larger version of one of the cubes speared on his fork. Patton wondered, not for the first time, if he was really that easy to read. Maybe Roman just assumed that Patton didn’t know anything.

“Oh,” he heard himself say, barely audible even to his own sharp ears.

They ate in silence for a while longer before Roman spoke again.

“So, Pat,” he began, setting his bowl down in his lap. “Did you think about what I asked? About your outfit?”

Patton squirmed a little under the human’s gaze. It didn’t help as Logan glanced curiously between the two of them. He tugged at the fabric of his pantleg, but he quickly stopped when it threatened to unravel in his fingers. He really would have liked something new to wear, something clean and warm, but the thought of what the process of getting a new outfit might entail mildly terrified him. He couldn’t figure out why the human even cared about his clothes. Maybe it was like when Marissa had first given him the doll dress to make his current outfit from: she had wanted him to match the rest of her dolls, in mostly pink. Maybe these humans simply didn’t like this outfit.

“I could give you the materials,” Roman offered. “And you could make it yourself. If you’re feeling up to it, I mean.”

Patton bit his lip in indecision. He wanted to say yes. He really would like some new clothes. He just wasn’t sure what the humans’ motive was. But shouldn’t he just take advantage of the opportunity?

Logan spoke up now. “I can assure you that you have no need to worry. Should the option of crafting your own clothes be most acceptable to you, all we would do is provide the supplies. We could place them on the table for your use and the leave the room while you worked, but we could stay close enough to hear you if you needed something.”

Patton opened his mouth and shut it again. “O-okay,” he mumbled at last.

Logan was apparently satisfied with that response, as he simply went back to eating. Roman gave him what was probably meant to be a reassuring look, but Patton couldn’t help but notice how unhappy the human looked as he, too, resumed his meal.

Patton let out a long breath, relieved to no longer have their attention focused on him. He speared a bit of tofu on his fork. He didn’t know why Roman would be sad that Patton agreed to his idea. But then again, there were many things he didn’t understand about either of them.

…

After several minutes, Roman still hadn’t eaten much of his food. It hurt, honestly, that Patton was still afraid that they were going to do him harm. The little mouse-man’s body language made that clear. He knew he shouldn’t take it personally, but he couldn’t help it. Roman had been trying so hard to help him feel safe, and yet it sometimes felt like he was making no progress.

“I’m going to go get my fabric and things,” he announced softly. “For you to use.”

Roman got up without waiting for a response. He brought his bowl out into the kitchen and left next to the sink, then walked through the kitchen and down the hall to his bedroom. He knelt at the side of his bed and pulled out a cardboard box that was stored there. He scooped that up and brought it over to his desk.

He lifted up the lid and pawed through its contents. After a few moments, he paused, frowning in confusion.

Roman could have sworn that there had been more fabric in this box than there was now. It wasn’t a huge difference—just a handful of pieces; but some patterned buttons he liked, a small patch of lace, and a length of red string should all have been in here. It seemed like there might be more missing, as well, but Roman was unsure. The other absence of the other items that were missing—assuming any other items were, in fact, missing—didn’t immediately jump out at him. As for the ones that he was sure should have been in the box, Roman had no idea where they had gone. Maybe they had fallen out, or had gotten moved somewhere else? Roman wasn’t sure where else they could be, although it was true that it had been some time since he looked through this particular box. It was perfectly plausible that he had misremembered what was originally in it.

He looked through the supplies once more, then at the sides of the box itself. One of its seams had somehow popped out slightly, almost like it had been pulled or pushed. Roman would have thought that perhaps something had fallen on the box and popped it out, but the lid was untouched. He supposed it didn’t matter; it wasn’t an expensive box, and the hole wasn’t big. Still, Roman double checked the floor between the box’s place under his bed and the desk, to see if maybe the supplies had fallen out of the hole when he moved the box. No such luck.

Roman wasn’t disheartened. There should still be plenty here for the mouse-man to work with, including the miniature pair of fabric scissors that had come with a little sewing kit he had. They would still be comically large, but far more usable than a normally sized pair would be for someone like Patton.

‘Someone like Patton’. As he picked out items that Patton might want from the box, Roman shook his head in bewilderment. He didn’t even know what that meant. Neither he nor Logan knew what Patton was, and they probably never would. Granted, Roman didn’t care about the science-y, ‘evolution and biology of the mouse-man’-type stuff like Logan would, but he was plenty interested in the ‘how-the-heck-does-this-tiny-dude-exist’ side of things. He was curious. Of course he was.

Despite his burning curiosity, Roman didn’t mind if he never got an answer to his own questions. Or rather, he supposed he did, but he knew that taking care of the mouse-man was far more important. It wouldn’t be worth scaring Patton to satiate his curiosity. Roman wasn’t heartless. He had only known Patton for a few days—and he still barely knew him—but he already cared about him a great deal.

With a small pile of fabric, thread, and the tiniest needle and fabric scissors he owned, Roman returned to the living room.

…

Patton stared with wide eyes as the human, from his perspective, dumped a small mountain of fabric on the table. The gigantic hand left two more items at the mound’s side: a sewing needle and some scissors.

“You can have whatever you want from here,” Roman said, drawing Patton’s gaze back up to him. “And if you need anything else, just let me know. Okay?” He smiled uncertainly; but he didn’t seem to expect a response, as he went and sat back down without waiting for one.

Patton stared at the pile of fabric for a long moment.

“It’s not going anywhere,” Roman assured gently. Patton slowly looked away again, ducked his head, and went back to eating.

...

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[pennywaltzy]

number 44, please?

A Potential Loophole To Exploit (A “Just Pieces On The Board Story) - After Thor and Loki leave a meeting with their mother, they start to talk about what can be done to stave off the foretold arrival of their sister, Hela, and begin to make plans.

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 3 | HELP ME SURVIVE? | COMMISSION ME? | BUY ME A KOFI?

To Coulson’s eyes, it looked as though the assembled team of his looked like a bunch of kids going on a cool school field trip and their jaded chaperones. It was pretty easy to tell who the science fanatics were by who was most excited. He didn’t seem at all surprised, however, to find Fitz and Leo fawning over Tony Stark, who was fawning back in some measure. That was probably the only surprise...at least so far.

He moved over to where Clint and Molly were standing, saw they were in heavy conversation, and then moved over to Sherlock and his brother. “Glad you could join us, Mr. Holmes. And you too, Mycroft.”

Sherlock snorted a quick laugh and then covered it up while Mycroft glared. “There were many others above my pay grade who could be coming,” Mycroft said.

“Mycroft it’s an alien planet. While I may have been obsessed with pirates as a child, you were the one who enjoyed alien invasion movies? Well, congratulations. You’re among the first humans aside from Ms. Foster to go to an alien planet in your lifetime.”

Mycroft looked a bit more mollified at that. “It does seem more adventurous than bureaucratic work when you put it that way,” he said.

“Trust me, there are enough politicians going with that you’ll get bored of us and drift back to them,” Coulson said, adjusting his sunglasses. “Though I hear the science is pretty interesting. Supposedly the offers of technology that Thor and Loki are saying would be available to the world is pretty spectacular.”

“But how much depends on the planet’s resources and how much can be replicated here?” Mycroft asked.

“Make sure you ask that question when the other politicians are all glazed over with the spectacle,” Coulson said, clapping Mycroft on the back. He moved away over to those on his own personal team and motioned for them to move away from Stark and, in Skye’s case, away from Darcy Lewis, who was coming along with Jane. The two of them looked cozy and he felt a trickle on panic at the back of his neck. “So we have some muscle, some clout and whatnot, but I need you all to be alert. We’ve had run-ins with their tech and we know Sif, which is an in for us, but still.”

“Who should we be sticking closest to?” Triplett asked.

Coulson thought for a moment. “Let Molly handle Mycroft. They’re practically family, and she’s got a good grasp on how to deal with both Holmes brothers at once. May, Trip, you stay with the politicians. I’ll have Barton join you if trouble breaks out. Fitz, Simmons, I know you want to stay near Stark, so you two and Skye can cover the scientists with Stark as your muscle. I’ll keep my eye on the Odinson brothers.”

“You still don’t trust Loki, do you?” Melinda asked.

“Not by a long shot, but we saw what that cube under his power did to Barton and Selvig. Thor thinks he was under its influence too, so there’s that. I’m willing to forgive, I suppose, just not forget.” He looked around. “As soon as they show up, move discretely into your groups and stick with them as long as we’re on Asgard. Remember, the kingdom at large doesn’t know what we know about the imminent threat, and neither do the politicians, for the most part. This whole venture is kind of a Hail Mary in that it might stop the sister if there’s no Asgard left.”

“You really think that the governments of the world will allow the whole entire planet to be blown up?” Jemma asked.

“It’s not our planet and we’re taking refugees if it all works out,” Coulson said. “Asgard may keep for a time until we can get what the Asgardians need, but right now? Not our planet, not our choice.”

The assorted team nodded and that was when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Molly had come over. “Sorry to interrupt your team meeting, But Jane said they should arrive at any moment.”

Coulson nodded. “You heard what Agent Hooper said. Get ready.” Almost as soon as he was done speaking an incredibly bright light filled the area, causing almost everyone to reach for sunglasses or look away, and then he grinned as the light dissipated and it was just Thor there. “Oh, he made a good choice,” he murmured.

“No brother?” Molly asked.

“Exactly.” They moved closer, Molly going back to the Holmes brothers as though she’d heard Coulson’s instructions, and Coulson went to Thor. “Thor Odinson.” He held out his hand, to which Thor smiled greatly and pulled him into a brotherly-type embrace.

“Son of Coul! You live! I thought Sif had been mistaken, but no, it is indeed you.”

“Yeah, well, things happened but yeah, I’m alive,” he said as he hugged Thor back. Then he took a moment to compose himself and gestured to the politicians, scientists, and his team. “Is this too many people?”

“No, there are not too many,” Thor said. “My mother and brother await in the golden halls of the palace. Shall we?” Thor gestured to the intricate symbols on the ground. “If all of you would gather in the circle, it would be much appreciated and a far easier job for Heimdall.” They all began to move towards the circle, Jane giving Thor a quick kiss on the cheek before he reached over for her hand, and once they were all inside the confines of the circle, Thor spoke again. “We are ready, Heimdall!” The light enveloped them again, and they traveled across what felt like a rainbow tube where they didn’t need to move, and then suddenly it was all gone and they were walking into a golden building and seeing a large black man with a sword in a machine that he was turning. “Friends, representatives...welcome to Asgard.”

[the-uptake]

Abdications of Flesh

The Uptake, With Symbiotic Self-Indulgence. Book III, Chapter 1. Chapter 2 MIA; go to next available chapter.

TW: Drug culture, police brutality, dysmorphia

Disconnection became the peristaltic pulse of Tri-City in the wake of the permanent quarantine. The ghosts of the Stalkers’ Quarter reached out and up from the imposing hundred-yard walls which confined it, a glaring neon Wolfram concrete warning to anyone who might wonder what might lay within an entryless barrier. In mere months, the supersaturation of public guilt left citizens complacent to a shared commiseration that it had to be done, that there was no other way; and in the wake of dispassionate transgressions, came a vast and opportunistic multitude of nepenthe. City laws evolved rapidly to meet the needs–and demands–of the masses. Everyone nursed their own personal set of vices. 24-hour liquor stores and bars bloomed up overnight, and over time other more creative maladaptive indulgences became equally commonplace.

Suddenly, more than any other point in the history of their lives, everyone wanted to be anyone but themselves. Industry could adapt. Industry could provide.

‘Choly and Cecil walked down a Level 12 street in the commercial district, the smooth and simplistic concrete facades along the entire strip swathed in advertisements projected upon their every surface. Romantic strands of Valentine’s Day decor still lingered in places. ‘Choly wore a salmon dress shirt under an oversize mint green sweater with black pants and mint green creepers, with large green gauge tunnels and his bangtails loose to either side of his bespectacled face. Cecil seemed to have tried to coordinate this, with a pale pink button-up shirt and dark grey pants both with cuffs rolled, thin black suspenders, and two-tone oxford boots.

“It’s not too dissimilar to our great city’s thriving cannabinoid market.” ‘Choly’s cane gait punctuated his wry lyric. “There’s fewer and fewer plants every day, but I guess agriculture knows the ones that’re most important to hold onto.”

“It’s not really a plant, though.” Cecil was the first to catch sight of where they were headed, and went ahead a bit to get to the neon pink door first. “It’s more of a fungus, I think. Made from fungus, anyway?”

“From what I hear…” ‘Choly came along far more slowly, and only continued once he’d closed the distance between him and his boyfriend. “…From what I hear, it’s made from a lot of things. Augen tells me this might just be what breaks the ban on Vekarix, that nobody will admit that’s what made Confec possible. The designer drug market is havin’ a hey day over genetically engineering hybrid magic mushrooms an’ shit. Swear, next thing we’ll hear, they’ll have put every known psychoactive living thing together in one organism, an’ we’ll be begging to take turns licking it.”

“Maybe they’ll finally come around to letting people continue splicing legally.” Cecil shot him a sarcastic grin as he held the door to a shop open for him. “If he’s right about the Vekarix, we might eventually see more and more diverse hybrids.”

‘Choly sniffed and side-eyed him as he stepped inside the small shop.

“People are… bound to do a lot of things in this desperate climate, whether or not it’s legal. Legality dilutes innovation, but definitely makes it easier access.”

Three other customers browsed as the pair entered. Glass display counters ran the entire track of the long narrow space, filled with racks of colorful shapes in a presentation not unlike a pastry shop. The wolf hybrid shopkeeper had her long electric blue hair pulled back over the crown of her head and braided tight. Her claws matched, and she wore a wide-strapped and very low-cut tailored white jumpsuit. ‘Choly barely kept himself from making comment on the coincidence.

“They make me think of chocolates.” ‘Choly stooped a bit just to admire the molded things. Many of the ones in that particular case had been marbled with several colors in one. He caught sight of the price tags and his face drooped.

“It’s more like soap, if you want to be honest.” The shopkeeper approached them and ran a paw over her hair. The door buzzed shut again, and suddenly it was just the three of them. “I take it you gentlemen are gloss virgins? You’ve made a great choice to pop in here for your first time. We grow and refine our product ourselves. Everything on display is hand crafted.”

Stiffly, Cecil put his hands in his pockets and tried not to make eye contact.

“With neither of us really having experience with it, can you… recommend anything?”

“Well, if you’re just looking for glossy, the best place to start is one of our truffles. They’re not too bitter, and the high is pretty mellow and smooth-transitioning.” She gestured to the case with trays of milky white spheres, then next to it at the case ‘Choly had been eyeing, filled with little rainbow colored cube shapes. “And bonbons have a sharper flavor, but they take faster.”

‘Choly hemmed a bit.

“…An’ what about the hardest thing you’ve got?”

She held a breath against the roof of her mouth and let it out of her snout with a grin. She motioned for them to follow her to the back counter, where she rounded it to lean her elbows on it.

“Of course, we have more potent preps, too. You’re in luck to come in now, really. We just got in some new stuff, if you want to be cutting edge with your first time.” She pointed down to the finger-size amber screw-top ampules lined up to one side of the display. “Distilled Confec. The confectioner calls it resin, and I can say from personal experience you won’t regret it. It’s a composite-gloss, a cultivar custom-crafted by him.” She winked at Cecil, who swallowed hard and stood straighter. “My ears piqued when you mentioned Vek on your way in. Confec is great and all, but resin? It’s absolutely a food of the gods. The hardest entheogen I’ve ever had, and believe me when I call myself a connoisseur from personal experience.”

‘Choly eyed the counter, then looked up to the shopkeep.

“How much?”

“One vial’s forty-five. About twenty hits. It’s potent stuff. Only takes a drop or two, really.” She sneer-flinched and laughed. “Recommend the trope take for it, soaking it into a sugar cube. It’s real bitter.”

“You sure you need it?” Quietly, Cecil chewed at his spider bites. “As opposed to the Confec, I mean? We came here to get a handle on your anxiety, not go crazy.”

When Cecil continued to skirt the shopkeeper’s attempts at eye contact, she crossed her arms at him.

“Resin’s totally safe, if that’s your worry. But anxiety, though? If that’s what you’re here for, you’re more likely gonna want burfee. It’s got a veneer more than a gloss.” She pointed to the counter to their right, full of chalky pastel balls. “Cultivar’s got borrowed cannabis sequences. Takes the edge off everything, without inducing a full trip.”

“We can start with Confec,” ‘Choly resigned, gaze tracing the items in that case. “I was expecting a high price tag, but the resin’s a bit rich for my ah,” he leaned in nearer, “my Level Zero upbringing, if you get my meaning.”

After a moment she also leaned in even closer, and barked a laugh.

“I understand now why you need a little escapism, dreg. You got moxie keepin’ the ‘do. I know just looking at him that he’s not, though, so what’s his story? He weird around all hybrids? I’ve been tagged and documented, as if it matters.”

“You’ve got extraction scars.” Cecil tried his best not to fluster as he pointed tersely at his own ear for emphasis, keeping to a near-whisper. “Tagged, past tense. Talk about moxie.”

Her shoulders froze up when he called her out on it.

“Hum, I didn’t notice,” ‘Choly commented in a thoughtful detachment. His head tilted askew as he inspected the wolf girl’s right ear. Near the lower base, it crumpled in on itself a bit. “No wonder he’s crushing on you.”

“Tch!” Cecil removed his glasses and rubbed at his face.

“He likes hybrids,” ‘Choly continued, enjoying embarrassing him. “We both think you’re pretty cute, any rate.”

“Oh really now?” Her ears piqued and her eyelids drooped.

“…Very,” Cecil admitted. He put his glasses back on and fished out his wallet, stuffing down his social misery. “How much is the, uh, the burfee?”

“It’s twenty-five for half a dozen of one cultivar, but we’ve got a special this month, for a variety half-dozen for nineteen. Since you’re having trouble making up your minds, perhaps a sampler would help you feel out what’s up your alley. And…” She held a lyric to her tone when the pair of them looked in agreement finally. “I suppose I could toss in an amp of Resin if you give me a kiss on the cheek.”

The flush that washed across Cecil’s face lit up every faint freckle in a constellation of awkwardness, and he smirked before leaning across the counter and complying. He sneaked a brief rub of her cauliflower ear while he was at it, then pulled back to admire her, still holding out a cred. She blepped pleasantly at him as she took the cred to run it on the register screen.

“I totally didn’t think he’d do it,” ‘Choly mumbled, trying not to laugh.

“Me either.” She handed the cred back and lolled her pierced tongue in full at Cecil. “You’re not, like, a hybrid chaser or something, are you? Most normies can’t tell that my ear’s not just, like, a piercing deformity.” Her muzzle slacked. “Sorry, that was in poor taste of me. I forget some people went through with the therapy.”

Cecil’s only response, after a pause, was to wink at her. She shuffled over to unlock the display case and prepare the small cardstock box with what they’d purchased.

“Name’s Dee, by the way.” She popped the earned trinket in the corner of the box and twined it up, then handed the parcel to Cecil. “Maybe you’ll come see me again sometime.”

“Cecil. Dee, it’s been a pleasure.”

“Seconded,” ‘Choly chirped. His awkward flashing of a rigid, short hand wave and interjection of his own name got a chuckle from Dee.

“Hope it’s the escape you came in for.”

Once the two had exited the confectionery shop, Cecil continued carrying the purchase.

“Why’d you technically lie to Dee, anyway?” ‘Choly smiled at his boyfriend. “You never had any work done to have reversed.”

“Chalk it up to the stress of being ribbed over thinking she had spunk.”

The dreg choke-laughed at this, and ran a few free fingers over Cecil’s hand, eliciting a sly withdrawn smile.

They stopped briefly at a corner store for cheap premade coffee, and ‘Choly held the box while Cecil filled up two cups and paid for them. The dreg plopped down the Confec on the counter of the cramped coffee area of the establishment and took the weight off his legs for a spell against the wall, then pulled out his reader to burn a couple of minutes. He decided to snap a nondescript, contextualized pic of his acquisition and send it to Augen; even though the vampire’s availability was dimmed, he’d see the message later.

ketherphorbia sent a file SDC43011_100-5102.JPG.

ketherphorbia: mission successful

9augen is typing…

ketherphorbia: oh, hi

ketherphorbia: i’ve got good timing. didn’t think you’d be on

9augen has stopped typing.

9augen: please tell me youll be home soon. no one else is responding

ketherphorbia: need to talk?

9augen: its. sensitive. youll be home soon right

ketherphorbia: yeah, the confectioner’s we went to’s only one level up. is five minutes ok?

9augen: Yeah.

“Telling him about our adventure?”

Cecil returned and offered one of the syrofoam cups, and ‘Choly traded him the box for it, so that Cecil carried the Confec and one coffee, and ‘Choly carried the other with his free hand.

“I was about to. He’s being vague. In an urgent way. It bugs me.”

“I’m sure he just wants to trade juicies. Come on, let’s get going.”

The two each waved their public transit passes as they entered the toll lift, and cuddled against the back wall on the way one level down. Although this one cost a third-cred per level to ride one way, the nearest free lift was five blocks further away, and this toll lift let out on the same block as their housing complex. They exited and rounded the corner right into the lobby of the complex, and took the building elevator three floors to their apartment. While Cecil got the door, ‘Choly’s reader began to vibrate from receiving a vid chat, and he nearly dropped his coffee fumbling to double check that it was coming from the expected caller.

“You’re so slaggin’ impatient,” ‘Choly whined as he accepted with hesitation.

The screen was black, but he could hear labored breathing. Once inside their apartment, ‘Choly squinted at the display of his reader to see it indicated ‘no video’ and he sighed with an eye roll, suspecting that his friend had something ridiculous to reveal.

“Sorry,” the other end mustered, strangled and adenoidal. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared right now, ‘Choly.”

The foreign quality of the voice got the dreg’s attention immediately, and with a knitted brow, he quickly toed out of his creepers at the door and took his coffee to the daybed-couch in the back end of the apartment. The confec went to the side table beside the coffee on its coaster. Cecil watched ‘Choly trying to get comfortable, and offered a bold, blocky quilt and a knee-pat, but he wasn’t sure if he was invited to the call, so he took to the front end of the apartment to the confines of his book-nook, assuming he’d be fetched to join in if they so desired it. Either way, he’d hear about it later.

“You certainly don’t sound like yourself.” ‘Choly cleared his throat, hair on end. “What’d you get into, anyway?”

A long, labored pause lingered when the caller couldn’t form the words.

“…Augen…?”

“My coven got hit. They’re doing therapy raids now. Fucking Open Carry Manifesto! Fuck, it hurts so bad to talk. Can’t hardly see straight.” It took ‘Choly a while to understand what Augen had described, and a hand went to the dreg’s mouth as he stared at the blank screen. “You heard about the OCM, right. I’m not just a rambling lunatic right now?”

“I heard it was just civilian access to tranq, ‘cause Levelers are scared of the hybrids that kept their grafting. But fuck, Augen! Are you suggesting there’s a paramilitary force using it to force therapy serum? Since when did the government have the right!” He whipped off his glasses, nearly crying as everything set in. “–Oh fuck. Fuck. Are you all right? Of course you’re not all right. Fuck. –Where are you? Do we need to come get–”

“Shhhhhh. Take it down about fifteen notches. My head’s a thunderstorm right now. …One question at a time, maybe. Ugh. …First, no, the government doesn’t have the right. Best I can understand, this is a splinter of police, or army nuts, overstepping laws for sake of upholding moral code. They screamed out something like cleaning out a murderer’s den before they just unloaded on us.”

‘Choly was unaccustomed to hearing his friend talk this much at once, and the context as to why a fish had the breath to do so had his head reeling.

“But you got away, right? You’re not still at the, the coven?”

“I got away, yeah. Christ, this fucking sucks. They overdosed us on that shit, I guarantee you. Therapy’s supposed to be incremental–sessions–not abrupt like… THIS! Where’d they get that much serum? Must have a therapy physician in on their group. Sheisse. I’m the only one who’s got a possibility of springing back from this… Good chance the shock just killed a few of us outright. Grafting’s so goddamn expensive, even just solo-sequence jobs. Getting the procedure that gave people their real identities, for a lot of them it was their life savings. …Or someone else’s.”

‘Choly set down his glasses and his cataracted eyes zoned out into the blackness of the vid screen. He’d never seen his friend’s face before the grafting, and his curiosity went haywire. Briefly, he barely kept himself from asking aloud for Augen to show him what he looked like. 'Choly wondered if Augen would ever be comfortable enough to meet in person ever again. But, he trusted ‘Choly enough to voice call him like this, and he’d never done that before his grafting, either. The dreg laid down on the couch on his side, and pulled the quilt over himself.

“What I want to know is how they found where you guys were lying low. It’s not like you were being tasteless about it and lurking a geek bar or some shit. Vampires, your kind’s not stupid. …Wait, what do you mean, or someone else’s?”

“I fell off the grid after my grafting for a lot of reasons. Linnaeus’s circle works a lot like a cult. They scout for vulnerable people. People already ideologically charged and unlikely to have a change of faith even when tested. And those who either have lots of money, or have access to lots of money. Most of my coven fit that bill three-for-three, to be realistic. They were… most supportive of getting the money through whatever means possible. I sold my car. Sold pretty much everything. But it wasn’t enough. I knew how to get into my parents’ retirement savings, and I knew that money would only go to waste perpetuating their uninspired, horridly humanesque lives. And I knew they’d have nothing to do with me, the real me, so there was only one real resolution to that moral conflict. …If I got caught like this, where I’m recognizable for what I was before I was myself… I don’t think I’d do well in jail. And that’s just for the theft, what can be accounted to my birth name…”

“You… you said it was an overdose of serum,” ‘Choly reached, desperate to find something that might lift his friend’s spirits. “And you said there’s a chance you’ll spring back? You’re talking about your marine graft, right?”

A pleasant breath was all he heard for a while.

“I’d say it feels like reckless optimism to grapple onto what it is at its core, but Vek is a metagen by definition. Therapy serum is basically a human-DNA graft job, an attempt to flush out the animal grafts. They told me during my follow-up sessions that subsequent grafting jobs would never stick, thanks to the tunicate graft, and not to waste my cred. I was just rambling when I said it, but maybe you’re right. Maybe the tunicate will recognize the… virus, and kick it for me. I’d get to experience becoming myself all over again. …Thanks. Sometimes, you know just what to say. At the very least, if gives me something pleasant to focus on while this shit wears off.”

“Can I… Can I ask a bad question?” ‘Choly’s words strangled himself.

“Yes, my reader is working fine. Yes, I have vid off on purpose. No, I haven’t had the nerve to do front-facing camera yet, and there’s not a mirror here. If the answer wasn’t one of these, then what were you going to ask me? Otherwise, you know the answer.”

‘Choly swallowed and gave him an exhausted smile.

“Where are you?”

Augen wasn’t sure he’d heard him right and laughed like broken silver.

“I’m not even wholly sure how to tell you where it is. It used to be an automotive repair, going off what’s left in here, and off what it smells like. I think… it specialized in cars from back when it was all by tread. If th– When things go back to normal, I’m inclined to feel out how secure it is. It strikes me as a good place to make more… permanent than just hiding in.”

“It’ll more than go back to normal,” ‘Choly grinned. “I guarantee it.”

“I just remembered, you sent me a pic of your prize earlier. My moment of weakness has kept you from indulging. You’ve got the right idea, honestly. I’m lucky. I picked up an amp of Resin last night, and I was five minutes from taking a hit before… everything happened. It’s, like, hyper-Confec. I’ll have to let you try some next time we get together. But for now, this amp’s all for me. I… I think I can end call finally. I just can’t be… this right now.”

“You’ve earned it.”

“Enjoy your evening, bug dick.”

“You, too, stinkface. I’ll have my phone near me if you need me, all right?”

The screen flickered a moment before Augen’s face came into focus in a strange fluorescent amber lighting that didn’t match the ambient glow of Wolfram concrete interiors. ‘Choly wasn’t sure what he expected of his friend’s human features, but the juxtaposition of how his long, dark, stringy mess of hair framed his angular, slim pierced features only magnified the haunted sense of atrophy about him, crestfallen yet still forcing a tired smile. Ostensibly, a massive part of his identity had wasted away that day. Augen could tell ‘Choly had tried to take a screencap and ended the call.

9augen: may this vid call be the last you ever see of this pathetic asshole

‘Choly sent him a mushroom emoticon and set down his reader on the arm of the couch with a dopey, self-conscious smile. Augen had been gorgeous even before undergoing the grafting procedure that transfigured him, though the dreg knew better than to ever share such a sentiment. He sat up and glanced over to the box on the side table, seeking vicariousness even in his friend’s vulnerability, and pulled it into his lap. He’d be fine. And Augen would be fine.

But first, some time needed to pass, and the last thing he wanted was to be present for it.

Go to Next Available Chapter »»»

[crown-eater]

Abdications of Flesh

[ With Symbiotic Self-Indulgence, 1. ] [ The Uptake (table of contents) ]

Man, “Maze” and “Vital Ones” need a hard overhaul after this, I swear. Establish ALL the foreshadowing Sorry in advance for how heavy this is, uh

Disconnection became the peristaltic pulse of Tri-City in the wake of the permanent quarantine. The ghosts of the Stalkers’ Quarter reached out and up from the imposing hundred-yard walls which confined it, a glaring neon Wolfram concrete warning to anyone who might wonder what might lay within an entryless barrier. In mere months, the supersaturation of public guilt left citizens complacent to a shared commiseration that it had to be done, that there was no other way; and in the wake of dispassionate transgressions, came a vast and opportunistic multitude of nepenthe. City laws evolved rapidly to meet the needs--and demands--of the masses. Everyone nursed their own personal set of vices. 24-hour liquor stores and bars bloomed up overnight, and over time other more creative maladaptive indulgences became equally commonplace.

Suddenly, more than any other point in the history of their lives, everyone wanted to be anyone but themselves. Industry could adapt. Industry could provide.

'Choly and Cecil walked down a Level 12 street in the commercial district, the smooth and simplistic concrete facades along the entire strip swathed in advertisements projected upon their every surface. Romantic strands of Valentine’s Day decor still lingered in places. ‘Choly wore a salmon dress shirt under an oversize mint green sweater with black pants and mint green creepers, with large green gauge tunnels and his bangtails loose to either side of his bespectacled face. Cecil seemed to have tried to coordinate this, with a pale pink button-up shirt and dark grey pants both with cuffs rolled, thin black suspenders, and two-tone oxford boots.

“It’s not too dissimilar to our great city’s thriving cannabinoid market.” ‘Choly’s cane gait punctuated his wry lyric. “There’s fewer and fewer plants every day, but I guess agriculture knows the ones that’re most important to hold onto.”

“It’s not really a plant, though.” Cecil was the first to catch sight of where they were headed, and went ahead a bit to get to the neon pink door first. “It’s more of a fungus, I think. Made from fungus, anyway?”

“From what I hear...” ‘Choly came along far more slowly, and only continued once he’d closed the distance between him and his boyfriend. “...From what I hear, it’s made from a lot of things. Augen tells me this might just be what breaks the ban on Vekarix, that nobody will admit that’s what made Confec possible. The designer drug market is havin’ a hey day over genetically engineering hybrid magic mushrooms an’ shit. Swear, next thing we’ll hear, they’ll have put every known psychoactive living thing together in one organism, an’ we’ll be begging to take turns licking it.”

“Maybe they’ll finally come around to letting people continue splicing legally.” Cecil shot him a sarcastic grin as he held the door to a shop open for him. “If he’s right about the Vekarix, we might eventually see more and more diverse hybrids.”

‘Choly sniffed and side-eyed him as he stepped inside the small shop.

“People are... bound to do a lot of things in this desperate climate, whether or not it’s legal. Legality dilutes innovation, but definitely makes it easier access.”

Three other customers browsed as the pair entered. Glass display counters ran the entire track of the long narrow space, filled with racks of colorful shapes in a presentation not unlike a pastry shop. The wolf hybrid shopkeeper had her long electric blue hair pulled back over the crown of her head and braided tight. Her claws matched, and she wore a wide-strapped and very low-cut tailored white jumpsuit. ‘Choly barely kept himself from making comment on the coincidence.

“They make me think of chocolates.” ‘Choly stooped a bit just to admire the molded things. Many of the ones in that particular case had been marbled with several colors in one. He caught sight of the price tags and his face drooped.

“It’s more like soap, if you want to be honest.” The shopkeeper approached them and ran a paw over her hair. The door buzzed shut again, and suddenly it was just the three of them. “I take it you gentlemen are gloss virgins? You’ve made a great choice to pop in here for your first time. We grow and refine our product ourselves. Everything on display is hand crafted.”

Stiffly, Cecil put his hands in his pockets and tried not to make eye contact.

“With neither of us really having experience with it, can you... recommend anything?”

“Well, if you’re just looking for glossy, the best place to start is one of our truffles. They’re not too bitter, and the high is pretty mellow and smooth-transitioning.” She gestured to the case with trays of milky white spheres, then next to it at the case ‘Choly had been eyeing, filled with little rainbow colored cube shapes. “And bonbons have a sharper flavor, but they take faster.”

‘Choly hemmed a bit.

“...An’ what about the hardest thing you’ve got?”

She held a breath against the roof of her mouth and let it out of her snout with a grin. She motioned for them to follow her to the back counter, where she rounded it to lean her elbows on it.

“Of course, we have more potent preps, too. You’re in luck to come in now, really. We just got in some new stuff, if you want to be cutting edge with your first time.” She pointed down to the finger-size amber screw-top ampules lined up to one side of the display. “Distilled Confec. The confectioner calls it resin, and I can say from personal experience you won’t regret it. It’s a composite-gloss, a cultivar custom-crafted by him.” She winked at Cecil, who swallowed hard and stood straighter. “My ears piqued when you mentioned Vek on your way in. Confec is great and all, but resin? It’s absolutely a food of the gods. The hardest entheogen I’ve ever had, and believe me when I call myself a connoisseur from personal experience.”

‘Choly eyed the counter, then looked up to the shopkeep.

“How much?”

“One vial’s forty-five. About twenty hits. It’s potent stuff. Only takes a drop or two, really.” She sneer-flinched and laughed. “Recommend the trope take for it, soaking it into a sugar cube. It’s real bitter.”

“You sure you need it?” Quietly, Cecil chewed at his spider bites. “As opposed to the Confec, I mean? We came here to get a handle on your anxiety, not go crazy.”

When Cecil continued to skirt the shopkeeper’s attempts at eye contact, she crossed her arms at him.

“Resin’s totally safe, if that’s your worry. But anxiety, though? If that’s what you’re here for, you’re more likely gonna want burfee. It’s got a veneer more than a gloss.” She pointed to the counter to their right, full of chalky pastel balls. “Cultivar’s got borrowed cannabis sequences. Takes the edge off everything, without inducing a full trip.”

“We can start with Confec,” ‘Choly resigned, gaze tracing the items in that case. “I was expecting a high price tag, but the resin’s a bit rich for my ah,” he leaned in nearer, “my Level Zero upbringing, if you get my meaning.”

After a moment she also leaned in even closer, and barked a laugh.

“I understand now why you need a little escapism, dreg. You got moxie keepin’ the ‘do. I know just looking at him that he’s not, though, so what’s his story? He weird around all hybrids? I’ve been tagged and documented, as if it matters.”

“You’ve got extraction scars.” Cecil tried his best not to fluster as he pointed tersely at his own ear for emphasis, keeping to a near-whisper. “Tagged, past tense. Talk about moxie.”

Her shoulders froze up when he called her out on it.

“Hum, I didn’t notice,” ‘Choly commented in a thoughtful detachment. His head tilted askew as he inspected the wolf girl’s right ear. Near the lower base, it crumpled in on itself a bit. “No wonder he’s crushing on you.”

“Tch!” Cecil removed his glasses and rubbed at his face.

“He likes hybrids,” ‘Choly continued, enjoying embarrassing him. “We both think you’re pretty cute, any rate.”

“Oh really now?” Her ears piqued and her eyelids drooped.

“...Very,” Cecil admitted. He put his glasses back on and fished out his wallet, stuffing down his social misery. “How much is the, uh, the burfee?”

“It’s twenty-five for half a dozen of one cultivar, but we’ve got a special this month, for a variety half-dozen for nineteen. Since you’re having trouble making up your minds, perhaps a sampler would help you feel out what’s up your alley. And...” She held a lyric to her tone when the pair of them looked in agreement finally. “I suppose I could toss in an amp of Resin if you give me a kiss on the cheek.”

The flush that washed across Cecil’s face lit up every faint freckle in a constellation of awkwardness, and he smirked before leaning across the counter and complying. He sneaked a brief rub of her cauliflower ear while he was at it, then pulled back to admire her, still holding out a cred. She blepped pleasantly at him as she took the cred to run it on the register screen.

“I totally didn’t think he’d do it,” ‘Choly mumbled, trying not to laugh.

“Me either.” She handed the cred back and lolled her pierced tongue in full at Cecil. “You’re not, like, a hybrid chaser or something, are you? Most normies can’t tell that my ear’s not just, like, a piercing deformity.” Her muzzle slacked. “Sorry, that was in poor taste of me. I forget some people went through with the therapy.”

Cecil’s only response, after a pause, was to wink at her. She shuffled over to unlock the display case and prepare the small cardstock box with what they’d purchased.

“Name’s Dee, by the way.” She popped the earned trinket in the corner of the box and twined it up, then handed the parcel to Cecil. “Maybe you’ll come see me again sometime.”

“Cecil. Dee, it’s been a pleasure.”

“Seconded,” ‘Choly chirped. His awkward flashing of a rigid, short hand wave and interjection of his own name got a chuckle from Dee.

“Hope it’s the escape you came in for.”

Once the two had exited the confectionery shop, Cecil continued carrying the purchase.

“Why’d you technically lie to Dee, anyway?” ‘Choly smiled at his boyfriend. “You never had any work done to have reversed.”

“Chalk it up to the stress of being ribbed over thinking she had spunk.”

The dreg choke-laughed at this, and ran a few free fingers over Cecil’s hand, eliciting a sly withdrawn smile.

They stopped briefly at a corner store for cheap premade coffee, and ‘Choly held the box while Cecil filled up two cups and paid for them. The dreg plopped down the Confec on the counter of the cramped coffee area of the establishment and took the weight off his legs for a spell against the wall, then pulled out his reader to burn a couple of minutes. He decided to snap a nondescript, contextualized pic of his acquisition and send it to Augen; even though the vampire’s availability was dimmed, he’d see the message later.

ketherphorbia sent a file SDC43011_100-5102.JPG.

ketherphorbia: mission successful

9augen is typing...

ketherphorbia: oh, hi

ketherphorbia: i’ve got good timing. didn’t think you’d be on

9augen has stopped typing.

9augen: please tell me youll be home soon. no one else is responding

ketherphorbia: need to talk?

9augen: its. sensitive. youll be home soon right

ketherphorbia: yeah, the confectioner’s we went to’s only one level up. is five minutes ok?

9augen: Yeah.

“Telling him about our adventure?”

Cecil returned and offered one of the syrofoam cups, and ‘Choly traded him the box for it, so that Cecil carried the Confec and one coffee, and ‘Choly carried the other with his free hand.

“I was about to. He’s being vague. In an urgent way. It bugs me.”

“I’m sure he just wants to trade juicies. Come on, let’s get going.”

The two each waved their public transit passes as they entered the toll lift, and cuddled against the back wall on the way one level down. Although this one cost a third-cred per level to ride one way, the nearest free lift was five blocks further away, and this toll lift let out on the same block as their housing complex. They exited and rounded the corner right into the lobby of the complex, and took the building elevator three floors to their apartment. While Cecil got the door, ‘Choly’s reader began to vibrate from receiving a vid chat, and he nearly dropped his coffee fumbling to double check that it was coming from the expected caller.

“You’re so slaggin’ impatient,” ‘Choly whined as he accepted with hesitation.

The screen was black, but he could hear labored breathing. Once inside their apartment, ‘Choly squinted at the display of his reader to see it indicated ‘no video’ and he sighed with an eye roll, suspecting that his friend had something ridiculous to reveal.

“Sorry,” the other end mustered, strangled and adenoidal. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared right now, ‘Choly.”

The foreign quality of the voice got the dreg’s attention immediately, and with a knitted brow, he quickly toed out of his creepers at the door and took his coffee to the daybed-couch in the back end of the apartment. The confec went to the side table beside the coffee on its coaster. Cecil watched ‘Choly trying to get comfortable, and offered a bold, blocky quilt and a knee-pat, but he wasn’t sure if he was invited to the call, so he took to the front end of the apartment to the confines of his book-nook, assuming he’d be fetched to join in if they so desired it. Either way, he’d hear about it later.

“You certainly don’t sound like yourself.” ‘Choly cleared his throat, hair on end. “What’d you get into, anyway?”

A long, labored pause lingered when the caller couldn’t form the words.

“...Augen...?”

“My coven got hit. They’re doing therapy raids now. Fucking Open Carry Manifesto! Fuck, it hurts so bad to talk. Can’t hardly see straight.” It took ‘Choly a while to understand what Augen had described, and a hand went to the dreg’s mouth as he stared at the blank screen. “You heard about the OCM, right. I’m not just a rambling lunatic right now?”

“I heard it was just civilian access to tranq, ‘cause Levelers are scared of the hybrids that kept their grafting. But fuck, Augen! Are you suggesting there’s a paramilitary force using it to force therapy serum? Since when did the government have the right!” He whipped off his glasses, nearly crying as everything set in. “--Oh fuck. Fuck. Are you all right? Of course you’re not all right. Fuck. --Where are you? Do we need to come get--”

“Shhhhhh. Take it down about fifteen notches. My head’s a thunderstorm right now. ...One question at a time, maybe. Ugh. ...First, no, the government doesn’t have the right. Best I can understand, this is a splinter of police, or army nuts, overstepping laws for sake of upholding moral code. They screamed out something like cleaning out a murderer’s den before they just unloaded on us.”

‘Choly was unaccustomed to hearing his friend talk this much at once, and the context as to why a fish had the breath to do so had his head reeling.

“But you got away, right? You’re not still at the, the coven?”

“I got away, yeah. Christ, this fucking sucks. They overdosed us on that shit, I guarantee you. Therapy’s supposed to be incremental--sessions--not abrupt like... THIS! Where’d they get that much serum? Must have a therapy physician in on their group. Sheisse. I’m the only one who’s got a possibility of springing back from this... Good chance the shock just killed a few of us outright. Grafting’s so goddamn expensive, even just solo-sequence jobs. Getting the procedure that gave people their real identities, for a lot of them it was their life savings. ...Or someone else’s.”

‘Choly set down his glasses and his cataracted eyes zoned out into the blackness of the vid screen. He’d never seen his friend’s face before the grafting, and his curiosity went haywire. Briefly, he barely kept himself from asking aloud for Augen to show him what he looked like. 'Choly wondered if Augen would ever be comfortable enough to meet in person ever again. But, he trusted ‘Choly enough to voice call him like this, and he’d never done that before his grafting, either. The dreg laid down on the couch on his side, and pulled the quilt over himself.

“What I want to know is how they found where you guys were lying low. It’s not like you were being tasteless about it and lurking a geek bar or some shit. Vampires, your kind’s not stupid. ...Wait, what do you mean, or someone else’s?”

“I fell off the grid after my grafting for a lot of reasons. Linnaeus’s circle works a lot like a cult. They scout for vulnerable people. People already ideologically charged and unlikely to have a change of faith even when tested. And those who either have lots of money, or have access to lots of money. Most of my coven fit that bill three-for-three, to be realistic. They were... most supportive of getting the money through whatever means possible. I sold my car. Sold pretty much everything. But it wasn’t enough. I knew how to get into my parents’ retirement savings, and I knew that money would only go to waste perpetuating their uninspired, horridly humanesque lives. And I knew they’d have nothing to do with me, the real me, so there was only one real resolution to that moral conflict. ...If I got caught like this, where I’m recognizable for what I was before I was myself... I don’t think I’d do well in jail. And that’s just for the theft, what can be accounted to my birth name...”

“You... you said it was an overdose of serum,” ‘Choly reached, desperate to find something that might lift his friend’s spirits. “And you said there’s a chance you’ll spring back? You’re talking about your marine graft, right?”

A pleasant breath was all he heard for a while.

“I’d say it feels like reckless optimism to grapple onto what it is at its core, but Vek is a metagen by definition. Therapy serum is basically a human-DNA graft job, an attempt to flush out the animal grafts. They told me during my follow-up sessions that subsequent grafting jobs would never stick, thanks to the tunicate graft, and not to waste my cred. I was just rambling when I said it, but maybe you’re right. Maybe the tunicate will recognize the... virus, and kick it for me. I’d get to experience becoming myself all over again. ...Thanks. Sometimes, you know just what to say. At the very least, if gives me something pleasant to focus on while this shit wears off.”

“Can I... Can I ask a bad question?” ‘Choly’s words strangled himself.

“Yes, my reader is working fine. Yes, I have vid off on purpose. No, I haven’t had the nerve to do front-facing camera yet, and there’s not a mirror here. If the answer wasn’t one of these, then what were you going to ask me? Otherwise, you know the answer.”

‘Choly swallowed and gave him an exhausted smile.

“Where are you?”

Augen wasn’t sure he’d heard him right and laughed like broken silver.

“I’m not even wholly sure how to tell you where it is. It used to be an automotive repair, going off what’s left in here, and off what it smells like. I think... it specialized in cars from back when it was all by tread. If th-- When things go back to normal, I’m inclined to feel out how secure it is. It strikes me as a good place to make more... permanent than just hiding in.”

“It’ll more than go back to normal,” ‘Choly grinned. “I guarantee it.”

“I just remembered, you sent me a pic of your prize earlier. My moment of weakness has kept you from indulging. You’ve got the right idea, honestly. I’m lucky. I picked up an amp of Resin last night, and I was five minutes from taking a hit before... everything happened. It’s, like, hyper-Confec. I’ll have to let you try some next time we get together. But for now, this amp’s all for me. I... I think I can end call finally. I just can’t be... this right now.”

“You’ve earned it.”

“Enjoy your evening, bug dick.”

“You, too, stinkface. I’ll have my phone near me if you need me, all right?”

The screen flickered a moment before Augen’s face came into focus in a strange fluorescent amber lighting that didn’t match the ambient glow of Wolfram concrete interiors. ‘Choly wasn’t sure what he expected of his friend’s human features, but the juxtaposition of how his long, dark, stringy mess of hair framed his angular, slim pierced features only magnified the haunted sense of atrophy about him, crestfallen yet still forcing a tired smile. Ostensibly, a massive part of his identity had wasted away that day. Augen could tell ‘Choly had tried to take a screencap and ended the call.

9augen: may this vid call be the last you ever see of this pathetic asshole

‘Choly sent him a mushroom emoticon and set down his reader on the arm of the couch with a dopey, self-conscious smile. Augen had been gorgeous even before undergoing the grafting procedure that transfigured him, though the dreg knew better than to ever share such a sentiment. He sat up and glanced over to the box on the side table, seeking vicariousness even in his friend’s vulnerability, and pulled it into his lap. He’d be fine. And Augen would be fine.

But first, some time needed to pass, and the last thing he wanted was to be present for it.

[redvsvblue]

Two Halves Of My Rainbow (4/?)

Hey-o. Still doing that Jerevinwood soulmate AU, this one with hints of casual Alfreyan in it.  

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, AO3 

Ryan’s familiar with guns. From training, from field duty, from the one pistol he owns to the grenade launchers they confiscate from unwieldy crew members, from rat-tat-tat-tat ammo and the thick, heavy booms of rockets, the resulting debris that skitters across the crime scenes.

He’s familiar with cars. From his own, from the FIB ones, from high-speed chases down motorways to road blockades, from cumbersome vans with too much weight on the back wheels and armoured supercars taken away to be stripped for parts, or freed of their extra cocaine baggage.

Ryan’s not quite familiar with being on the wrong side of it all.

And he’s definitely not that familiar with motorbikes.

But Alfredo apparently trusted him enough for this, swinging a leg behind Ryan on the bike and yelling at him to go as sirens whoops behind them and Ryan guns the engine, following a path he knows like the back of his hand, weaving through traffic and it’s not panic building in his throat for once but rather adrenaline, making his skin tingle and his hands sweat in the leather gloves. He can hear Alfredo shooting behind him, the pop and burst of tyres as Alfredo clears their tail – there’s bullets whizzing by them as well, tearing into the road either side of them and ricocheting off of surrounding vehicles, terrifying and thrilling all at once and Ryan can’t help but smile to himself under his helmet.

It wasn’t even a big hit, just a quick pit-stop at Ammu-Nation to liberate them of some extra guns, and here Ryan is, being chased by the same people Geoff and Michael are working with, running for his life and loving it more than he ever thought he would.

He’s clumsy on the turns, oversteering and wobbling a bit but Alfredo doesn’t seem concerned, just holds onto him tighter and whoops when they’re free of the cops, wrapping both his arms around Ryan and his gun knocking against Ryan’s hip.

Ryan is so out of his depth.

He loves it.

-- 

Ryan learns quickly. Picks up on all the little subtleties and amasses more guns and runs more jobs with Alfredo – simple two-people heists, gas stations and drug deals and the sort of shit that garners him a reputation.

He picks out Vagabond one late night over dinner with Alfredo, hooking sticky noodles around his chopsticks and toying with the cube of chicken as they talk.  

And Vagabond he becomes.

Ryan’s killed people before, sure, in the line of duty, but like this it’s almost better – no red tape and no paperwork and nothing but surety when he fires a bullet between the eyes of the guy running the local sex slavery ring the FIB have been trying to break up for months and bam, over. He’ll leave the paperwork to his former colleagues.

He hasn’t heard a fucking word about any new crime duo. He figures Gavin and Jeremy are laying low, but in the meantime Ryan’s plunged himself into a whole new lifestyle and he’s floundering a little, a constant struggle between fight and flee and life and death.

He abandons his house. Leaves a cryptic goodbye at Geoff’s door with apologies for Jack and Michael in there as well and takes up residence in a shitty little flat on the edges of Vespucci and tries not to regret.

The panic creeps in sometimes, when he’s alone and sitting on the flimsy balcony and trying to rationalise – he can’t rationalise – what, he left his stable job and stable income and his friends to go run off and become a criminal in the city he once protected? All because of some stupid fucking soulmates who gave him colour and didn’t even know him? All because of – of –

And that’s the part when Ryan’s brain shuts down and the world is big and scary and terrifying and he buries his face in his hands to muffle himself and the only little shred of hope he can use to remind himself where he is and what he’s doing is that he knows what colour the creeping vines on his balcony railing are.  

-- 

“Ryan?” Alfredo asks while they’re unloading guns in his office, dumping them unceremoniously on the desk and uncaring of the paperwork scattered over the surface.

“Yeah?” Ryan replies distractedly, fixing the precarious position of a few pistols.

“Can you hand me that blue paperclip?”

“Sure.” Without thinking, Ryan reaches for the blue plastic paperclip in the bowl and offers it up – and pauses, and looks up, and sees Alfredo’s eyes narrowed a little, his nose scrunched up as he scrutinises him.

“Lucky guess?” Ryan jokes, but it falls flat.

“I knew there was something different,” Alfredo says. “You’ve met them, haven’t you?”

Ryan carefully declines to answer, swallowing thickly and dropping the paperclip to shove his hands in his jacket pockets.

“When?” Alfredo asks. “Last time I saw you – the Dewsbury bust-up. You were still...”

Ryan still doesn’t answer.

“It’s why you left the agency, isn’t it?” Alfredo continues, softer.

“Thanks for all the help, ‘Fredo,” Ryan says quietly, and turns to go – Alfredo catches him around the arm and Ryan turns his head away, blinking back something he doesn’t want to name. Shame, fear, embarrassment, regret. That age-old panic that never fades away no matter how much he does.

“Who are they?” Alfredo asks.

“I...don’t know,” Ryan admits. “I don’t – I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me - ”

“It’s not important,” Ryan says gruffly, yanking his arm away. Alfredo grunts and claps a hand on his shoulder to hold him back, stepping around to stand beside him.

“I think it’s pretty fucking important, Agent,” Alfredo spits. “You’re different.”

“I’m a criminal.”

“Not just like that. I remember working with you before.”

“Alfredo - ”

“Who’s so important you gave up your life for them?”

Ryan – can’t answer that. Doesn’t know how to. Doesn’t even know where the fuck to begin – two idiots playing computer games irresponsibly late, two idiots laughing over some stupid inside joke Ryan wasn’t even in on, two fucking idiots getting themselves hurt and patching each other up, two stupid motherfucking idiots that crawled their stupid way into Ryan’s life and into Ryan’s mind and filled in the rest of the world like a colouring book for him and he thinks somewhat moronically that if he ever met them, the I love you would roll off his tongue easier than the hello, I’m Ryan, who are you? and isn’t that just ridiculous.

“Like I said,” Ryan says, chews up the words and spits them out much harsher than the first time. “I don’t know.”

Alfredo studies him for a moment more and then releases him, stepping back to let Ryan move freely.

“I hope they’re worth it,” he says.

I hope so, too, Ryan thinks but doesn’t say. Leaves with a gruff see you tomorrow and knocks against the doorframe on the way out.

-- 

Despite the panic, despite the unknown, despite the residual regret still crawling up Ryan’s spine and sometimes blooming across his consciousness in fitful sleep and trembling fingers, he pushes on. Learns and fights and learns some more, takes hard hits and harder falls – Alfredo’s there to catch him, and he’s there to catch him right back, almost literally most of the time.

And Ryan doesn’t lose his morals. No he fucking doesn’t – he sticks to hurting only those who deserve it, refuses any outside offers that require anything else. Alfredo’s, thankfully, on the same lines as him, tells him what bosses to avoid and what types of deals to decline, who’s good for what and who’s scum of the earth. 

Not as many people as Ryan thought, honestly.

But he sticks with Alfredo and he grows in leaps and bounds, and his turns on the bike aren’t so clumsy anymore and he’s a quicker draw on the guns – much quicker on the SMGs now, and pretty decent on sniper rifles thanks to Alfredo’s training.

Right now, during a quiet evening after a busy day, he’s on cleaning duty, leaning against the railing of his shitty little balcony and wiping a rag over his rifle – Alfredo tugs open his fridge inside and signs something – Ryan responds with a quick gesture and Alfredo nods, shooting him a thumbs up before he reaches in.

Alfredo collapses beside Ryan a minute later, cracking open a soda and passing it over as he pops the tab on his own, clinking it with a laugh against Ryan’s before drinking. The sunset stripes over Alfredo’s face in a pleasant glow, softening all his edges and bringing out the gentlest sort of warmth Ryan could only ever imagine just months ago.

“Hey, gimme a taste of that,” Alfredo asks, jerking his chin towards Ryan’s can. Ryan starts to offer it up but Alfredo leans in to catch his lips instead, grinning at Ryan’s little huff of laughter.

“Coulda just asked,” Ryan mumbles. Alfredo lightly smacks his hand and Ryan turns it palm-up to feel what Alfredo’s about to say. 

Shut up, Alfredo signs.

Shutting up, Ryan replies.

[badwitchgame]

Busy with Blender

Thanks to Grant Abbitt’s tutorials on YT (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZFUrFoqvqlN8seaAeEwjlw) tutorials, I’ve picked up a few quick skills. Until he makes the part 4 of the tutorial with the texture painting, I decided to hit WoW and made a few screenshot about objects and houses and tried to make them in Blender.

First attempt: Barrel and cart:

I really liked this one, despite the fact that it’s super low poly, it is quite obvious what it is and even with basic shading, it looks very good.

2nd Attempt: House in Evelynn forest:

and the reference screenshots:

It had some very strange angles The house normally would just straight up but as they made this “cartoonish” in WoW they distorted the house from the sides:

Also it was not super obvious how the walls go. I think they are double sided planes, not actual geometry, at least around the windows for sure. I don’t know how to do that yet. Also as I was studying the structure from all sides, I noticed a few optimizations as well. The geometry was not really obvious, since the texture painting created a lot of “illusion” geometry, it was hard to tell what is shape, and what is texture painting sometimes.

In any case, it was a good exercise and it kept me pumped so I ended u modelling a few more things in Blender:

A signpost:

and a bed scene:

Without texture painting these all look a bit plain, but I think I make good progress in understanding and creating simple models.

I also bought Portia on PS since it was reduced price. I thought it’ll be different but after playing it for a day, I can’t say I’ve seen a more snowflake friendly game in my life. There’s absolutely no conflict in it in a meaningful way. Everyone is nice, the weather is pretty, whatever you are tasked to do is super easy, the whole game feels like a safe place simulator..

Regardless, I bought it because of the art style. It was quite OK, although the lack of texture painting results in a very low quality models some places. I’m positive I could make 60-70% of the models I’ve seen so far. I don’t know about the programming aspect or game systems just talking about models of houses, walls generic objects around the world etc. Some are surprisingly badly made for a fully released product, but it was quite consistent in execution. If nothing else, the game gave some hope that I can make a game one day, since if they could release and sell this quality of assets, it is absolutely doable to make something with similar quality (or better) solo.

The more I dig into game making, the bigger the task seems to be, but so far I’ve not seen anything I couldn’t solve (maybe bunny fur on the “official” blender Udemy tutorial, but that’s useless anyways.). Models can be made with blender. repetition and level design can be learned from WoW, and how they re-use parts of their models and textures to build variety in the scenes without actually making new models. Sound design and music theory can be learned from Udemy tutorials and programs like FL studio or that strange midi generator can make music. Concept art and drawing can be learned, I bought a complete drawing tutorial on Udemy as well. Eventually I will be able to make models, concept art and music. Animation I have a book on that I can read. UE4 I have a complete course as well as an UE RPG course as well. All I need is just the game idea and execution. After seeing some ideas I still have more idea on what I don’t want to do than what I do want to make. I liked the wider game design of Portia, but that conflict-less blank characters are just creeping me out. I liked the huge sunsets and the ancient ruins on the horizon, I like how bright the game is, although it does terribly miss dark areas and creepy, evil places etc. As I played Portia, all I thought was maan, this is TOO cheerful, this is TOO happy. This game is like Stardew Valley on drugs for overly sensitive people. For those who cannot deal with conflicts so they need their game too to be without real confrontation. Portia surely doesn’t follow the typical “Hero’s journey” since there’s nothing heroic in it. nothing to overcome or learn from, nothing to challenge. FFS the first dungeon doesn’t even have enemies and the game is proudly presenting it as a safe place to explore. I expected some reaction from the bus driver when I started axing the rainbow lamas everyone was just watching cheerfully as those nightmare monsters went off with a puff and dropping a nicely folded leather.

I definitely don’t want to do that. I want extraordinary creatures like in FF and PoGo, I’ll probably want companions like pets etc.

About what the game would be.. Probably a journey with many easter eggs and side quests. Something where decisions shape a world state, Regions are similar size as WoW areas with similarly packed with small towns, areas of interest etc. Something that can be explored, and quests would lead to the next areas. Player can choose where to go from similarly hard areas.

I do want some form of building in the game and regarding that I had the idea of a player building their house, either as freeform building like in Conan exiles or upgrade it and have fixed attachments added to it like Skyrim or WoW garrisons. I can restrict the building area in each region and the player can cast a spell to “pick up” their house and move it to the next area or build more and travel between them. Like in NMS. NMS building system is good, just the building pieces are not good enough.. All the buildings look like cubes.

Both building systems (upgrade with fix pieces or free building from parts) have its charms. Pre-made parts probably easier to make. I potentially would like to end up with a “howl’s moving castle like monstrosity where towers and planks are sticking out. The pre-made and upgrade system can also be combined with shelves and furniture so people can customize it. I do enjoy free building better though, free building is one of the cornerstones of Conan exiles, without it I’d probably not played it for this long. The idea that you can just set up shop anywhere on the gigantic map and build a massive base, castle, whatever you want is pure imagination. You see a place or a cliff side and you have an idea what could look good there. Or you just settle on a random place and follow along what the world gives you, build inside a cliff side, or set walls along the vulnerable openings. You can climb a mountain to get a good vista or a cool sunset and start building there. Originally I wanted something like that, but I admit I have no idea how to make it work well. It works for Conan because it barely has a story. remove the bracelet, fill the shopping list and no ending.

The problem with Conan’s ending is that it’s non-existent and I realize now that it was a conscious choice. During my first play-though I thought it makes no sense to remove the bracelet. By the time you can do it you are king of the world, you have a palace, you have an army of thralls, you have many beasts following you, you own an oasis, you conquered all bosses and enemies in the game. And you cannot die. Why would you want to remove the bracelet and become mortal again and walk into the desert? So it makes sense that the developers don’t want you to finish the game. 80% of Conan exiles is building. it’s not about finishing the story. This is a strange relationship between what the game tells you and what it is actively trying to force you to do. By story they want you to remove the bracelet, but every game elements wants you to stay and keep building on new locations. Conan exiles still pulls me back occasionally just purely to build and make a new base. There’s nothing in terms of story in the game for me, I’ve seen every corner of it, yet when new building pieces came out, I feel encouraged to go back and build a new base because  of the free form building.

Things that can make a game infinite:

- Random levels to play on (Diablo’s Rifts)

- Free building where you can build any house you want (Conan exiles)

- Character customization (Maple story 2)

- Free form crafting (Paper life)

The problem with these is the more random a game gets, the harder it is to write a consistent and freely explorable story to it. The more random the game is, the more possibilities are for the player to miss / skip story either by accident or by simply going towards something that is more interesting on the map. You can either write a main story arc or small hubs with mini stories perhaps? Maybe you can have mandatory quests and optional quests as in other games.

What I aimed for at the very beginning was 2 states for each areas. For example you have a woodland forest, and depending on your actions it will be a trade hub because you made it safe or a bandit hub if you selected certain choices. This can result a “World state” that can be used for New Game +. You go through the game, make your choices, and that results a world that has less or more problems. When you finish, you have the choice to restart, but the world is in the state you left it. If you left the woodland that became a trade hub, in NG+ you find a rich area that have a set of problems coming from being rich (eg attacked by bandits). If you left the area in the main play through as a bandit hub, you have quests to liberate it or profit off it etc. Liberating the bandit hub results a trade hub, neglecting or exploiting a trade hub results a bandit hub. If all areas have 2 states, you can play through the game at least 2 times.