#but after a while i think she'd fall into the same pattern as she did with miranda

[rxttenfish]

thinking about miravi specifically in the context of Sound and Noise...

aaravi's a person who's been forced to be hyperaware of how loud shes being at any given moment, something which she's nonetheless not very good at and ends up being told off repeatedly because she gets too loud when shes angry, or excited, or happy, or anything, really. she's not good at volume control and can't figure out how to maintain an "acceptable" level for everyone else, something that those same people don't have a tolerance for and won't listen to her when she says she really can't help it, leaving her only options to be total silence or outright rejection when she does speak. it means she gets ousted even more from social situations and even moreso read as aggressive and mistreated for being so, even when she's really trying not to be, thus meaning she can only actually become aggressive due to this fear of retaliation and mistreatment.

and miranda comes from a culture that has a huge emphasis on sound and noise and constantly being able to hear everyone even if you aren't able to see them. that's why music is so important to them, why it's a part of their language and why their language is so complex, that it's a deeply ingrained part of how they socialize with each other to begin with. even in her situation, having to control her reactions for the sake of the throne and control exactly what she says in which way, this is still far more than what she's dealing with on land. for all of this, she feels strangely put down and hurt even when other people aren't intending to, having such a major part of her socialization just abruptly missing. no one will sing with her, no one will go to the same lengths, no one is constantly communicating so that she can know what's going on even when she can't see it - and, yeah, she also gets told off repeatedly because she's being too loud or too boisterous or not using her "inside voice" and can't figure out what's an acceptable level because she's just not made to deal with this.

which means, when aaravi starts getting excited and getting loud around miranda, well, she can understand that! for miranda, she can understand this even better than what might be seen as the "norm", and can much more easily work with what aaravi gives her. in turn, aaravi is encouraged to be as loud or as boisterous as she wants to be, that she has someone else who is also loud and boisterous and likes that about her, especially someone who's confident enough (helped further by the knowledge that her entire culture and people are also like this) to not be so easily pushed over or told that there's something wrong with her for being loud. in a way, its finding someone who speaks the same language and understands what the other means in these inflections in volume, and someone who encourages this without shaming the other for how they talk.

[marlenacantswim]

BAM headcanons for your little guy????

i can always count on you, whoop <333

i'm thinking ab the tenth doctor real hard bc of that novel i just read, so imma drop some headcanons ab him and his companions, and probably 14 too bc i'm feeling it.

ten's got a little bit of a chew stim / oral fixation. this is inspired both by the number of times he holds objects in his mouth in the show, and him chewing the end of his stethoscope in Prisoner of the Daleks.

fourteen, meanwhile, learns he has a LOT of a chew stim once he's settled into his new life with the nobles. the discovery unfortunately comes at the cost of sylvia's second favorite spatula, which 14 absentmindedly chewed a hole into while making himself eggs one morning.

tentoo and rose celebrate the day she and nine first met as their anniversary. when they get married (through a lowkey traditional timelord wedding to "celebrate his heritage"), they make sure to hold the ceremony on that same day.

one january day, a few years into their relationship, rose is telling tentoo how worried and stressed she is about her job prospects. tentoo reassures her by saying "i think you're gonna have a great year :)" which suddenly unlocks the memory she'd had of meeting ten on new year's, 2005. since tentoo doesn't remember this, they both conclude that it must have been the actual doctor visiting her sometime after the metacrisis, and through her description of the events, tentoo silently realizes that ten was there because he was dying.

14 has a sleep pattern of about one or two nights of restless insomnia, followed by one night of deep, babylike sleep that lasts for 10 hours if uninterrupted. it's not uncommon, on these nights, to find him asleep in front of a project he's been working on, as he is the only one in the house who has not yet recognized this pattern.

as a time lord, he doesn't need to sleep this much in theory, but my mans is so tired, and for the first time like, ever, he has the space to actually catch up on lifetimes of lost sleep.

time lord dreams tend to be five-dimensional, but the trends can change with regenerations. for instance, nine's dreams were only ever three-dimensional, and always in black and white. ten's dreams have a wild range of possibilities, from so photorealistic he confuses them with real memories, to so abstract that the experience is more akin to being the subject of a picasso painting. he dreams every time he falls asleep, even if he's just taking a nap. 14's dreams are always photorealistic.

donna snores. not super loud, but enough to be obvious to anyone but her. ten always found the rhythmic sound soothing; pulsing white noise like that of the tardis. he'd often fall asleep in the same room as her because of it. all of this applies to 14 as well, to the extent that, some mornings, donna and shaun find him curled up into a ball asleep at the foot of their bed like a dog.

martha and the nobles keep very well in touch, to the occasional horror of 14 who has no idea how to read her and feels pathetically awful about how he treated her during her time as a companion. martha honestly still believes he's the most amazing thing, but she's gotta admit that watching him sweat bullets every time she addresses him feels kinda cathartic, so she has no qualms putting off that talk.

martha has also since pivoted back to the medical field, where she is doing quite well, thank you for asking.

since we see ten in the pjs from "The Christmas Invasion" again in "Smith and Jones", i choose to believe that he liked them so much that he simply kept them. i imagine the conversation with jackie went "howard won't miss these, will he?" "miss what?" "thought not. okay thanks, bye!"

i also imagine ten makes an active effort to sleep in the pajamas as often as he's able. he sleeps about thrice as much as nine ever did, all because he's obsessed with the fun ritual of wearing them to bed.

ten actually has a mild but sensitive allergy to cats. he never realized this, not because he didn't ever have the opportunity to, but because he was always too preoccupied to piece together that the reason his psychic functions felt fuzzy and the psychic paper used a misplaced modifier and the skin near his collarbone itched was because he was in the same room as a cat five minutes ago.

this is why it took him a second to piece together what exactly was off with rose in "New Earth": his ambient telepathy was too fuzzed over from the cat nurses to notice rose's brainwaves were wrong.

having a human brain, tentoo's memory faculties are still giga-impressive for a human, but not nearly as robust as his timelord counterpart's. he still remembers events, emotions, and concepts clearly, his biggest regressions being in the categories of exact terminologies and complex mathematical processes. the loss he's most distraught about is the vast majority of languages he once knew. he can still speak and understand all earth languages and gallifreyan fluently, but his knowledge of xenolinguistics is relegated to the occasional profound vocab word he remembers fondly.

a lot of these ended up being sleep-related for whatever reason; maybe i just want the man to rest </3

[kayakoto-enterprises]

🛌 - do you and your f/o sleep in the same bed? if you do, do you have a favorite and least favorite thing about sleeping together?

🎇 - do you and your f/o have a favorite holiday to celebrate together? what is it? do you have different holidays you like celebrating?

🥧 - have you and your f/o tried to bake something together? how did it go? what did you make?

Hai hai wrennnn I'm on lunch break so lemme run through these <3. Thank you!

🛏: Julianne initially bought a bigger bed. She was already hoping she'd settle in with someone while she stayed in Woodbrook. Her persuing Sam only came after they developed a friendly acquaintanceship so in terms of any sleeping arrangements, Julianne was more than ready.

SINGLE METAL BED FRAME😭😭😭 Initially Sam and Julianne just sleep on the floor or couch together because there's no way THAT will accomodate them both so they prefer sleeping over at Julianne's apartment. I dunno. Even into the relationship, Sam has the mindset that they'll eventually end up as an expendature she can move on from. But sometimes you just get so numb and powerless you buy another metal bedframe to connect the other to and she can finally sleep over at your house more.

I get so emotional over beds and sleeping arrangements!! It circles back to Stuffed Animal where Lesley doesn't need to sleep since she's already a doll and The Illustrator does. It's more on tapping into each other's humanity and recognizing that living beings need adequate rest and a comfortable bed to sleep in..for House Guest it's improving those living conditions or having set them already because you care enough for your partner to rest well. Julianne didn't plan on dating Sam on day one but it's probably coinscidence and a pattern she got a bigger bed not knowing how big her partner will be eventually.

Ahh them sleepin together is super comfortable but they have pet peeves about how the other sleeps. Julianne is an active dreamer and squirms, rolls, kicks, or bumps in her sleep. She also sometimes just Doesn't Sleep and starts kneading on Sam's arm. It's especially annoying when they both have work the next day and one ends up with a sore arm and one's barely alive at 2 pm.

Sam is Perpetually Warm and it's great when it's fall or it's winter but it's Bad during the Summer especially around June (for. Reasons.) Around that time she's extra physical and handsy so Julianne who's usually a hot sleeper finds it a bit annoying. Sam also hogs the blankets which would be fine most times but it's bad timing after exercise or during the winter. They both enjoy everything else so nothing here is that big of a deal.

🎆: Ohhh it's between Christmas and this springtime fair Woodbrook hosts!! Christmas reminds Julianne of her home since they like to celebrate Christmas big, and she's just lucky to celebrate Christmas with someone on her first year!! Let alone her crush!! As for the fair, in the Philippines, schools have spring fairs from February to March. One that's prominent is the Antipolo Fair I attend quite often so Woodbrook having a smaller scale version would be fun. I imagine in that one month Sam and Julianne didn't talk, it happened just outside Julianne's apartment. She people-watches from her window, her eyes obviously searching for someone. In the next year they go together as a date!!

🥧: I used to bake a lot during the pandemic lockdown so I think Julianne likes baking but now just doesn't have time. She bakes pies, cakes, some local recipes, but she mostly bakes cookies for Sam during the pining stage. It's fairly easy to do in between work and you can keep the batter in the fridge for days plus it keeps its shape in the oven when refridgerated. They have tried making sourdough together early into the relationship after Julianne attempts it and it goes awry. It's another fic idea simmering because sourdough is such a hard bread to bake and I get intimidated by most bread recipes. I dunno. Maybe it means something somewhere hehe

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House, pt. 20

Notes:

"Death on the Niben" is (obviously) meant to be the TES equivalent of Death on the Nile. I've made Poirot a Khajiit - because, as a tumblr user pointed out, he likes to refer to himself in the third person, plays up the "strange foreigner" thing to make people underestimate him" etc, as a Khajiit would, even if a Breton would fit him better in other ways

Sadara would regret that thought for some time to come. That night she had one of those strange dreams again - but she had had it months ago. The one where Dagoth Ur was leading her through a crowd of the dead, where she couldn't breathe or speak. She struggled to move, and talk, and after a lengthy fight (that was coupled with a strange sadness) to get free, she woke up with her heart racing.

The roof of her room was old-fashioned wood with plenty of knots to look at, so that was what she did while trying to fall back asleep. Stare at the aged but well cared for wood, and find patterns in them. A face or two could be made out from one long board, and then another...

...she remembered doing this ages ago, when she and Jiub had made enough killing slaughterfish to rent a place for a few months. He'd had some job lined up after that, and they could at least have a secure roof over their heads. It wasn't much, they couldn't afford to run the heat, but the wallpaper had been strange enough that they'd sometimes sit and pick out patterns for lack of anything else to do.

It was all about distracting yourself, Jiub had said. Keep busy so thoughts don't occur and you won't think about all of the Everything Wrong. And it was what she'd been doing since coming to Mournhold.

She actually HAD extra money now, so it had given her a lot of opportunities she hadn't had before. Teaching herself the lute, getting a few novels - Death on the Niben, as she had always been a fan of Agatha Christie.

Sadara reached into the top drawer of her bedstand and pulled the book out, flipping to a random page.

In fact the marriage has been arranged by Aetherius and Hercule Poirot. All I have to do is to compound a felony.

As spooked as she'd been when she'd jolted awake, Sadara found her eyelids beginning to droop.

She was asleep somewhere within a few pages of the last line she remembered reading, including some Ta'agra she couldn't understand at the beginning. "I am vain, you see. I am puffed up with conceit. I like to say: 'See how clever is Hercule Poirot!'

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

It seemed at first that Sadara would have the same dream again, for she stood beside him, walking among the dead...but then, then she was laying beside him.

She vaguely recalled something like this...after a second round he'd seemed to want to keep her close. It'd felt good, she remembered that much. There was the scent of ash in that ocean of dark hair of his, but that scent was everywhere in Vvardenfell anyway.

The memory grew a little clearer, or maybe her mind was adding to it. She traced over a scar on his chest - a long, ugly one, that looked fairly deep. Had he shivered like that when she'd actually done it (if this had happened?)...had he pulled her closer, buried his nose in her hair?

This isn't real...but it's nice...

So he was a crazy cult leader, Nibani was probably right about that part. But she knew how being alone for long periods of time could fuck with your mind. She wanted to forget all this, but at the same time...

Well, he's not to be mine anyway, I'm not Nerevar.

The grip of those arms around her tightened, and she got a sensation of wrongness. Maybe he was trying to speak to her, but if that was the case then why didn't he just use words?

It didn't matter. This wouldn't last. Maybe he was regretting letting her go so quickly, but if that was the case, then...

A shift. She was standing beside him now, in front of someone in an ornate robe. The wedding? It hardly looked like one, but there was a feeling of blooming happiness in her chest. Maybe Nerevar had said something here, and--

Or, maybe he'd just been lonely and regardless of Nerevar would have done all he had. He'd seemed to find her joy at everything contagious.

It was nice, she thought, watching the wedding play out again, it really was. He'd looked at her like she was beautiful, like she meant something to him.

But now it was over. It was annulled, cut, ended.

"I'd have tried, really, but Gilvoth was clear...and no one ever came by to see after the wedding, so I thought he must be telling the truth."

I'm sorry. I was trying to prepare a place for you--

"And then afterwards?"

Silence.

"It was because you were celebrating Nerevar's return, wasn't it? It's fine."

It's not fine.

A shift back to the bed, when they'd been cuddling. Sadara didn't fight it - even in dreams the skin contact was nice.

"As much as you liked me, he was the one that got away, and no one is beating that."

I wanted both of you!

"Both of us? Did you think to mention it?"

I...assumed we would discuss it, when you returned. But you didn't...or rather, I was lead to believe you didn't...and I didn't wish to intrude in your mind...

Something in his tone made her laugh. Where was the terrible demon of a Sharmat now? He seemed all nerves...was this really the man everyone was so afraid of?

"I've never been in a threeway relationship..."

The idea wasn't entirely abhorrent, but she definitely wasn't sure about being the third wheel. A hero, a devil, and...her, a nobody.

You are not nobody.

There was silence a bit longer. She felt awkward, hanging in the half-space of sleep, curling up to someone she wasn't even married to anymore. But it was nice...she imagined having someone else there, too, and her face began to burn.

It would really depend on what Nerevar thought of this...it would be interesting to try, at least, and there wouldn't be worry about certain things.

The fog gathering at the edge of her vision thickened, and she felt those arms tighten around her.

You're waking up.

"Why?" she asked quickly, "I mean, why bother with this now? Right when I'm finally starting to let go?"

I'd have approached sooner but I didn't wish to alarm you. I ask only for the chance to correct this mistake.

Sadara thought wryly that she'd already been alarmed, but...his normal meter was no doubt off. She managed to look up and saw the saddest, biggest set of eyes she'd ever seen on a man. Even the third eye looked a little pathetic.

"Well," she said, as her vision went white, "I guess I could agree to worse things..."

It looked like this really wouldn't leave her alone.

Nerevar, she thought as she woke, must be in her still, because she felt the tug of wanting to believe him. No, not him. Voryn.

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

Nerevar cut down another mer in black, and not far behind were the two Morag Tong members who had come along with him.

The Morag Tong seemed pleased to help him, although some of them laughed at the idea of being asked to help track someone rather than outright kill. But Grandmaster Eno had allowed it - with the requirement that Nerevar help them clear out the Dark Brotherhood. After which, he said, he would be pleased to offer the full assistance of the Morag Tong.

Sadara was hard to find despite her connection to the Queen, and he wanted all the help he could get.

"That's the last of them," the one behind him said, "This base is cleared out now. Our agents outside didn't see anyone escape, but we should check for any tunnels they might have made."

Nerevar stepped along to do exactly that. Opening closet and wardrobe doors, shaking file cabinets, casting detect magic to see if anything had been covered with an illusion spell.

There was nothing.

But as some of the Morag Tong were dragging the bodies of the Dunmer away for burning, he found a file cabinet with what he at first took to be receipts. Closer inspection showed instead that they were writs of execution.

He was halfway through a swig of sujamma when he saw a familiar name on one, and spit what he'd almost swallowed out as he read it.

"Azura damn it, why?"

Writ in hand, he turned around and bolted out the door.

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

Vivec was already not happy.

Almalexia was giving him hell over his tryst with whoever-it-was (and how glad he was that she had no idea of the man's identity, no doubt she'd spread it everywhere if she knew already!), and Molag Bal had been especially pathetic. Whining how he was to show he could be trusted without that very thing he'd been robbed of?

But then had come the text from Nerevar, and Vivec knew the day was truly unsalvageable.

It was a picture of Nerevar's cock, fully erect, with the caption, "Still bigger than yours."

He facepalmed and cut off his phone.

[esther-dot]

Any thoughts on Sansa saying she wants the Great Sept burned? Is she a witch?

Dontos nodded. "He made a great pyre of the trees as an offering to his new god. The red priestess made him do it. They say she rules him now, body and soul. He's vowed to burn the Great Sept of Baelor too, if he takes the city." "Let him." When Sansa had first beheld the Great Sept with its marble walls and seven crystal towers, she'd thought it was the most beautiful building in the world, but that had been before Joffrey beheaded her father on its steps. "I want it burned." "Hush, child, the gods will hear you." "Why should they? They never hear my prayers." (ACOK, Sansa IV)

No, I don't think she's a witch, but there is something to her wishes coming true:

I hope he falls and shames himself, she thought bitterly. I hope Ser Balon kills him. When Joffrey proclaimed her father's death, it had been Janos Slynt who seized Lord Eddard's severed head by the hair and raised it on high for king and crowd to behold, while Sansa wept and screamed. later -> Morros dropped his lance, fought for balance, and lost. One foot caught in a stirrup as he fell, and the runaway charger dragged the youth to the end of the lists, head bouncing against the ground. Joff hooted derision. Sansa was appalled, wondering if the gods had heard her vengeful prayer. But when they disentangled Morros Slynt from his horse, they found him bloodied but alive. "Tommen, we picked the wrong foe for you," the king told his brother. "The straw knight jousts better than that one." (ACOK, Sansa I)

Now, he didn't die, but I still think that's the beginning of a fun little pattern.

Across the city, thousands had jammed into the Great Sept of Baelor on Visenya's Hill, and they would be singing too, their voices swelling out over the city, across the river, and up into the sky. Surely the gods must hear us, she thought. [...] ...toward the end, she even sang for Tyrion the Imp and for the Hound. He is no true knight but he saved me all the same, she told the Mother. Save him if you can, and gentle the rage inside him. later -> Her throat was dry and tight with fear, and every song she had ever known had fled from her mind. Please don't kill me, she wanted to scream, please don't. She could feel him twisting the point, pushing it into her throat, and she almost closed her eyes again, but then she remembered. It was not the song of Florian and Jonquil, but it was a song. Her voice sounded small and thin and tremulous in her ears. Gentle Mother, font of mercy, [...] She had forgotten the other verses. When her voice trailed off, she feared he might kill her, but after a moment the Hound took the blade from her throat, never speaking. Some instinct made her lift her hand and cup his cheek with her fingers. The room was too dark for her to see him, but she could feel the stickiness of the blood, and a wetness that was not blood. "Little bird," he said once more, his voice raw and harsh as steel on stone. Then he rose from the bed. Sansa heard cloth ripping, followed by the softer sound of retreating footsteps. later -> "It's done! Done! Done! The city is saved. (ACOK, Sansa VII)

Twofer! The people are saved and the Hound's fury/assault ends in him weeping.

Not sure if we should count this one, she did want to kill Joffrey back in AGOT and she thinks about praying for Margaery's protection from him, but I can't remember a specific wish in ASOS:

Sansa followed unresisting. I could never abide the weeping of women, Joff once said, but his mother was the only woman weeping now. In Old Nan's stories the grumkins crafted magic things that could make a wish come true. Did I wish him dead? (ASOS, Sansa V)

Martin is even playing this game in TWOW!

This time her eyes met Harry's. She smiled just for him, and said a silent prayer to the Maiden. Please, he doesn't need to love me, just make him like me, just a little, that would be enough for now. later -> “I hope you joust better than you talk.” For a moment he looked shocked. But as the song was ending, he burst into a laugh. “No one told me you were clever.” He has good teeth, she thought, straight and white. And when he smiles, he has the nicest dimples. She ran one finger down his cheek. “Should we ever wed, you’ll have to send Saffron back to her father. I’ll be all the spice you’ll want.” He grinned. “I will hold you to that promise, my lady. Until that day, may I wear your favor in the tourney?” (TWOW, Alayne I)

The guy is charmed. Oops, I almost forgot the best example:

Frog-faced Lord Slynt sat at the end of the council table wearing a black velvet doublet and a shiny cloth-of-gold cape, nodding with approval every time the king pronounced a sentence. Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. "Life is not a song, sweetling," he'd told her. "You may learn that one day to your sorrow." In life, the monsters win, she told herself, and now it was the Hound's voice she heard, a cold rasp, metal on stone. "Save yourself some pain, girl, and give him what he wants." (AGOT, Sansa VI) later -> much later -> much much later -> Janos Slynt twisted his neck around to stare up at him. "Please, my lord. Mercy. I'll … I'll go, I will, I …" No, thought Jon. You closed that door. Longclaw descended. (ADWD, Jon II)

I understand that politically, it would be a mess for Cersie to blow it up a la the show, and she'd lose all support blah blah blah, but I think the Sept will burn. Maybe that's later during Dany's great kaboomb of KL, but I'd kinda hate it if it was burned as part of everything and didn't get singular focus. Martin so frequently references Ned's death on the steps of the Sept we have this feeling of it being a place of horror and great injustice, and I'd like it to be a real moment. I would find it rewarding if it was Cersei, because she’d unwittingly be carrying out a wish of Sansa’s, a form of justice for the Starks. Also, we have that whole scene of her being enraptured by the tower of the hand burning, she has her own trauma tied to the Sept now, and in her scene of shame, she sees Ned and Sansa, so it’s all very present even as late as ADWD. And we know Martin is prepping another wish coming true in TWOW:

👀👀👀 Regardless of when/how, I do think Sansa will get her wish regarding the Sept and Harry (although I’m sure that one will upset her, she’s very soft-hearted!)

Again, not because she's a witch, because of the author's interest in justice and also, part of his series long project of unwinding simplistic beliefs and notions to replace them with a much more complex truth. Not to say people are dumb to believe in the first place, but more of an examination of faith and how prayers being answered can be the mystical explanation for a something that someone does for us, or we might even do for ourselves. As in, it was Sansa's longstanding kindness to the Hound, the relationship she built with him as well as her treatment of him in the moment that saved her from him.

[12pt-times-new-roman]

c3e78

(this was 4+ hours of heavy RP so have a read-more)

oh boy! time to find out who's gonna get angriest at Ashton!

Alright, Imogen's coming out first with a pretty standard "there were so many warnings!" but nothing too bad.

But Fearne, after kicking Ashton to unconsciousness, takes the hammer, strikes him with it, and slams it over and over again into the top off the ziggurat, screaming, trying to break it. She takes the harness and storms off. Chetney follows.

Laudna goes immediately to feeling betrayed. Everything is telling her that Ashton and Fearne should die, but she knows that's not a rational thought. Delilah wants the crystal -- with a moment of hesitation, Laudna turns and walks away seething.

Imogen uses detect thoughts on Ashton. "I think I've seen a pattern in my life. It's the realization of hubris and temptation and blame, an epiphany of violent levels of projecting responsibility. A very wide thought of not being responsible for what happened, and suddenly going through that, one by one." It's the realization that, within one week of knowing what happened to the Hishari, Ashton did exactly the same thing.

As they sit up, and the shard of Ka'mort is waking up now, too. It feels like the rock around them is breathing and another pain burns in their chest, they seize, shudder -- they cough, a horrible sound, and from within them, the shard of Raushan falls to the ground. Though Ka'mort's shard is on its way to awakening, the shard of Raushan was rejected, and with it a heavy cost. Their CON is permanently reduced by 2.

Ashton was stupid, but they weren't power-hungry. But in that moment of being dead, Ashton saw themself as who they would've been if nothing went wrong that day at the Hishari village, they met their parents and themself-- and they were vicious and cruel. Ashton wanted the crystal because they thought it would fix them, thought it would somehow give them their family back, but in that vision, they saw that it wouldn't and never would have, and that even if it could they wouldn't want it.

They wanted to feel robbed, and they wanted someone to blame other than themself, and they thought that this would make them whole and unbreakable because their cracks were evidence of weakness. Now, they realize they need to focus on understanding what they are instead of trying to become what they maybe were supposed to have been.

"How could you hurt Fearne?" "The same way anybody hurts anybody: a moment of weakness."

Chetney catches up to Fearne. She says she's going to destroy the harness, and Chet doesn't roll high enough insight to see any different.

She's beating herself up because she said Ashton could take it, but she never wanted it -- Ashton didn't coerce her or anything, she was genuinely afraid of it and wanted someone else to take it. Fearne was afraid that she'd turn into a terrible version of herself because she saw what she became if she took the Circlet of Barbed Vision. She feels her sadness and guilt as fury.

I love that Chetney is doing far better at diffusing this extremely emotional moment than anyone else could've, and he gets the harness away from her.

Chetney points out that Fearne fucked up, she heard the warnings and was naive, and she didn't trust the Hells enough to air her fear in front of them. But she has a crush on Ashton, she wanted them to like her back, and she was afraid of the shard anyway so why not let them have it? "Ashton is wild. And if there's any part of either of you that wants out, you can talk to me. That can mean a variety of things, and I'd be lying if I hadn't thought about it before, but don't fuck around, 'cause Ashton almost found out." Chetney dad friend confirmed--

They leave to go find Fearne something to break.

Laudna was following them, listening in. She uses form of dread and runs through the tunnels -- she knows them, she lived here a while before she had to leave, and she goes to places where no one could find her.

Ashton steps up to Allura. "I fucked up 'cause I'm an idiot! I fucked up bad." "Ah. Standard fare for adventurers at the crux of our plans, I suppose."

Imogen gives the bag of holding to FCG and heads into the tunnels, while FCG, Ashton, and Orym head to the surface to get some air.

Ashton apologizes for making fun of FCG's new faith, but FCG asks if they really care. "I care about all of you, so much -- I care about everything I can see, I just don't care about me, and I think that might be a problem." HEY! character growth! and acknowledgement that they projected super hard onto FCG!

After breaking some windows, Fearne goes for a walk, and promises Chetney she won't leave. She goes to the temple of the Matron of Ravens and offers a prayer.

"Hello, I guess. I don't really know what I'm doing in here, but... I made a bad decision, and I'm kind of scared about what I could turn into. So I guess I'm maybe asking you for some guidance. I don't really know how to do this, but I kinda like your vibe that you were normal and then weren't because you wanted more out of life, which I totally get. Anyway, I don't know, but--" She takes her postcards and leaves them as an offering, then leaves. When she leaves, she sees a little adolescent raven with one leg, its parents come and drops berries for it to eat, then all 3 make eye contact with Fearne before they fly away.

Laudna knows of a secret passage that leads into the woods, and she's gone. She's losing herself to Delilah, to what she once was, and is trying to remind herself of how far she's come since then.

Ashton talks to Percy. "We all make terrible mistakes, especially those of us who want to make a difference. The first key is to make sure nobody sees them; should that fail, you do everything you can to make up for it... punish yourself as much as you need to. Trust me, it's good for the soul. Some of us never stop. But don't drag them down with you -- only you are allowed to push your bruise."

Imogen goes looking for Laudna and finds nothing.

They go to dinner, bar Fearne and Laudna. I love that Allura is so resigned to the fact that all adventuring parties are weird as fuck all the time regardless of the time or place.

FINALLY Chetney casts grim psychometry on the shard of Raushan! "You see lands of rolling flame, a valley that is an inferno, the ground cracks as magma spews forth, a majestic kingdom of fire in an ancient time when the elements ruled Exandria. You see creation abound -- beings, life, pre-pantheon. Spirits walk in this land, though not the shapes that you know, elemental-like. Society and life before. Then flashes of conflict, feelings of benevolent frustration, emotional bursts of anger. Fiery conflict with beings of light and shadow, and then a cold place beneath, where you are alone. Half-asleep, half-awake, frozen, tethered in a lightless space -- until the chains break, and the blue sky guides you up, surrounded by arcane light, you are free once more and you reach out to grasp the hand of another like you from beneath the twin mountain, and then nothing." (For clarification, the twin mountains were one from above and one from below -- Cathmoira and Avalir.)

Oh, FCG gets actual answers from Matt when they flip a coin now! I wonder if this has something to do with their mystery 8th level cleric feature.

Chetney calls Ashton out. "You should leave. You should go. I mean it, don't come back either. If you're gonna do things for yourself, then do them, but don't risk us. I understand what it's like to look out for yourself, to try new things, but if I thought I couldn't control this, I would've fucking left. I don't trust you. You could've hurt Fearne." "I don't know if I'm going or staying yet. I think, honestly, that's not up to me. I'm thinking about it, and I don't trust me either. So I'm trying something. Actually, I've got a question: what did you do before you could control this? I've seen you lose your shit once, but what did you do?" "I killed things. I hurt people. A lot." "I'm glad you stopped. And I'm processing a lot right now, but if I do stay -- if you let me stay -- the day something happens and it goes bad for you, and you hurt a lot of people for any reason, stay or go I promise that I will stick around and help clean it up, and you'll get no shit from me. None. But for now I'll go."

(this is rich coming from Chetney, tbh, but it tracks with how much he cares for Fearne. however. Ashton is one of the only people in the party who hasn't been forced to make a saving throw to see whether or not he loses control and attacks the party. I get the sentiment, and Chetney needed to let off steam in his own way, but his point is definitely hypocritical.)

the absolute emotional whiplash going from that convo to Laudna asking Delilah for relationship advice and then resolving to "make Ashton a doll" in her old cabin--

break time!

We open on Fearne. She goes into the woods and uses plant growth to make a little hut and sleeps there for the night.

Laudna returns to her cabin and finds it partially collapsed. She uses charred wood with a curse word on it as the base for her doll of Ashton. Once it's done, Delilah says she can give it to them, keep it to remember them by -- or trade it for the shard. "Laudna... I need, and the power that helps me grow and thrive, it helps both of us." "No--" "Fearne didn't want it, Ashton couldn't have it. You have hurt so much. Why not stand up for yourself and take what is rightfully yours?" "Ashton hurt Fearne, they hurt us, why would I do the same? If Ashton can't learn from this lesson, shouldn't I?" "There are two kinds of people in this world: those who get hurt and accept it, and those who get hurt and retaliate. Who are you? Who are we? Matilda is dead. You are something more."

(Listen, if Laudna listens to Delilah and takes the shard without asking anyone but Imogen, she better get the same fucking level of backlash that Ashton did.)

In the morning, Imogen is panicked about Laudna, and tells FCG that they woke Delilah up. So at the very least, someone else is gonna be suspicious if Laudna suddenly wants the shard.

When Chet and Ashton wake up -- "you're still here! That's a good start." And Chetney.... immediately attacks them? just to see what their new arm does? OKAY???

but hey. Ashton rage build update: their damage bonus is +12 somehow? their new arm doesn't do anything yet, but when they hit with it, they do feel like there's a little box in their heart that hasn't been opened yet.

Everyone gathers up, and Fearne joins them at the gates of the castle. She's explicitly ignoring Ashton. With FCG's locate creature, they find Laudna pacing just inside the edge of the forest, trying and failing to will herself to enter the city.

When she sees Ashton, she turns and runs, because if she gets too close to Ashton she'll kill him? Chetney tackles her pretty easily, and even though Ashton could gain ground, they keep pace with the back of the group, but Imogen sends them away. for. A Reason, I guess?

"I gave Ashton some shit last night, I told him he should leave, permanently -- but he was there this morning, first down at the table. And that means something, 'cause he could've cut and run, been a coward and left, but he stayed." as suspected, Chetney saying what he did to Ashton was partially airing his grievances, yes, but it was also partially a test for Ashton.

Honestly, I'm really glad that the group is acknowledging that Fearne should've spoken up too. Obviously Ashton was the primary instigator, but Fearne still didn't say anything to them and didn't protest Ashton taking it.

Fearne suggests going to Nana Mori's for a while (which Matt strongly hinted at, btw) so they can work out all their shit, since she can manipulate the time difference. They agree to take an emotional retreat to the Feywild, and figure that Allura can either send them there or send them to Keyleth who can.

Ashton, meanwhile, puts their hand to the ground and feels warmth. "You absolute fuck-up. Maybe I deserve this -- no one deserves anything. What the fuck do I know? Maybe they do."

Laudna asks for the shard, and Imogen refuses to tell her where it is.

"Here, I made you this. It's a doll, for children, because you're a child. But I like children." "I hate children. They're awful." "They can be. Do you remember what it's like to be one?" "I do. It wasn't great." "You should find joy in your inner child." "This is the greatest thing anyone's ever made for me." Ashton is on the verge of tears here yall--

I fucking told y'all that Ashton's journey of learning to care for themselves wasn't going to be gradual like Caleb's was, it would be like the snap of tectonic plates when they cause an earthquake.

"I'm so sorry. I'm going to try so hard not to be that person, because I hate that person... If I am allowed to stay, and I understand if I am not, I will never, ever forget that this is the first group of people who didn't make me leave, and I will work so hard to make sure you don't. No matter what happens, I won't leave if I'm allowed to stay. No matter what we do, the mistakes we make, I will stay, I will be there, and I will not away. I don't know what love is, but I'm going with this."

Laudna is still angry, she still doesn't trust them, but the foundations for rebuilding that trust are there. And that's the opinion of most of the group!

Allura can send them to the Feywild, but -- "Your nana is the Fate-Stitcher, Morrighan? You are tremendously strange..." If Allura is going to send them there, then she also has to accompany them so she can send them back out, since they can't communicate!

Imogen asks Allura in her head who Morrighan is. "Your friend's nana is a notorious figure in the Fey Realm, but if they are indeed an ally, strange bedfellows I suppose?"

Ashton tries to pull Fearne away in the most conspicuous way possible -- "I'm looking for a book on apologies. I'm gonna start with 'I'm sorry.' If I had any idea... I don't know what I would've done, but I'm sorry. You were just being a good friend, and it felt right, but it wasn't, and you were being a good friend." // "I was being a dumb friend." // "No, I was being a dumb friend. This is on me. I didn't think, I... I fucked up really bad, and you had to be there, and I am so sorry. There is no way I'm ever going to forget the feeling of... the shard hurt, but knowing you were there was worse, and I'm not looking for forgiveness, I don't need an apology, I just need you to know that goodness doesn't necessarily lead to the right place. Sometimes we are good, and it works out poorly, and you were good -- it shouldn't have been like that, and it had to be, I guess. But I'm going to try so hard to never do that again. And i understand if you want me to go, or if you never want me to make eye contact again I can do that, but you're the only person I even vaguely understand in this group. I think I like them, or even love them, and I just want them to be safe from everything--" // "I didn't like that at all. That was awful to watch." "It was. And awful to feel too." // "You did the same thing that your dad did." // "Yeah, I've been thinking a lot about that. He's not my dad, he's nothing to me -- I don't even think I hate them, they are just a cautionary tale I did not listen to." // "That fucked me up a little bit. I think I'm still a little mad, and I don't think I can talk about it right now 'cause I don't really like you right now." // "That's okay." // "And I have a feeling that you feel the same way about yourself." // "I've never liked myself that much. If anything, this is the most I've liked myself in ages, and that's a bad sign." // "We'll talk about it sometime. But I'm glad you're still alive." // "I'll wait."

Allura comes back wearing battle-ready gear and adventuring clothes, and planeshifts them to the Fey Realm. (Ashton ties the doll near the collar of their jacket.)

With a quick incantation, they arrive at the base of the familiar tree that forms Ligament Manor. Bounding from the door is one of Fearne's animal friends -- Peepers, a jackrabbit with fingers for teeth and eyes on his ears. Within, Nana Mori is having a conversation with (and being tended to by) Birdie, Fearne's mom! (Ollie is upstairs tending to the garden.) She appears to have sustained some wounds, but nothing too serious. Birdie and both Mori's mouths greet them, much to Allura's horror.

"I am Allura Vysorin of the Tal'dorei Council, and I have multiple powerful friends who know where I am and who will come looking for me if I vanish." Damn, I almost completely forgot that it was the Arcana Pansophical who led the charge in identifying archfey, so of course Mori would know who she is!

Mori: is this a RETREAT?! how FUN! Allura, immediately: *mage armor*

At FCG's mention of time dilation, she slows time around her, and says they can take as long as they need. But Fearne asks about Ruidus, and Mori tells her what she knows:

"As [Ruidus] is held there, the very magic of Exandria is strained... the longer this tether holds to the moon, the more it tangles and stresses the flow of magic within and between the realms. So it's no surprise of mine that my lovely Fearne would be the one to set things right. The odd, if often fun, thing about being able to touch Fate itself is rarely knowing the outcome; it's like a strong hunch. But being able to see the distant ripples is like being able to give the weather direction. I can pluck a tune on the thinner strings. Some threads run a very taught path, carving through history to a powerful destiny; those threads, only she [the Matron of Ravens] can view, only she can cut and weave. Sweet Fearne, your fate is in flux; like your very whims, it vibrates with uncertainty, impulsive, darting in and out of darker paths, turned back by the shadow spaces of the skein. You've always been a beautiful paradox, and it's why I knew I had to keep you safe, and keep one finger on your thread. Your true heritage required my attention. So, I'm happy to help, for now it seems that maybe now is the time it has all been heading toward. Maybe we're at the end of the strain itself. I'm glad you're here, sweet girl."

Fearne asks about the Shadow Fearne she saw way back in EXU: Prime. She seemed sad and angry, so when Fearne feels those things, she gets afraid that she'll become that. "You require answers, but not all answers are mine to give. Your mother keeps a deep, dark secret -- one you deserve to know, and one that is not my place to reveal. Perhaps you should speak with her. It might be illuminating."

Fearne asks about Morri's opinion on the Matron. "She is complicated; the pinnacle of ambition. There are things I dislike, as the places I like to walk are under her purview and she doesn't like uninvited visitors and we don't meet eye to eye; but she can't fully reach me here either, so we have an understanding... she's fine."

Then she asks about Asmodeus, Tevon, and produces the kiss -- "I thought I smelled sulfur. Oh, Fearne, you've been dallying! I now understand the context for some of these pluckings. You and your mother are more alike than you know. What that mark is, is a promise. An audience, and a chance to gain and give -- a trade." It's an invitation to make a deal with the literal devil, essentially.

Birdie returns with Ollie, who offers to cook a meal! And Morri offers to wipe FCG's memory after they plan the scavenger hunt so they can participate too.

But in a "proper place to patch things up," as much as Ligament Manor can be that, we finish out the episode.

[walder-138]

HEY THERE DEMONS ITS ME YOUR GOOSE

I have something I must discuss.

Annika's sleeping habits.

So we know that she curls up in his office closet because that's where she feels safe enough to sleep and hide from everyone else. But I feel like this occurs later on in their friendship, much later in comparison to the years they have known each other. And this is in reference to the ask you sent me whereby you wrote back that she'd doze off to his lectures about Perseus ideology (which for the most part would be boredom lmao) BUT what if, due to her poor sleeping ability when, like you say, she's on the brink of collapse because of how exhausted she is, in some of these droning conversations where his voice is the only thing heard that's what helps her sleep.

At first it's a completely unintentional thing and maybe she'd be embarrassed about it (especially in the beginning because they probably aren't friends to the extent they are later) and Keith would think "this literal child is being so rude, I'm trying to educate her and she falls asleep on me? I'm not that boring and neither is the goal of Perseus-"

Only to then, when it's happened a few times, he begins to realise that maybe there's something wrong and she's not sleeping properly. And the only time she seems to get some shut eye is when he's talking... so when coming back from a mission, travelling between places and it's an appropriate time to sleep, maybe he starts to purposefully speak for decent lengths of time knowing that it'll help her? If she asked him about it, he'd feign like he hasn't got a clue what she's on about. "I don't care about you enough to even bother, you're just being rude." When really he's internally like "fucking sleep, dammit, your habits give me a heart attack-"

Boy oh boy where do I even begin…

(TW: IMPLIED CHILDHOOD S/A BUT NEVER EXPLICITLY MENTIONED OR DESCRIBED)

Annika’s sleeping patterns, as I’ve told you before, is mainly based off the traumas she’s experienced as a kid, growing up in her dad’s terrorist organization. Police would raid the safehouses they were in, sometimes one of her dad’s men would sneak into her room, threatening her with violence to be quiet while they did stuff to her, and her own father’s torment for being ‘lazy’. It was always dark when these things happen; when she was most vulnerable.

Annika has a very specific way she sleeps; must be facing main entrance; no windows; blankets only where they don’t interfere with mobility; weapon within grabbing distance; walls between me and men

She’s slept on counters trying to keep these rules, even when beds, couches, chairs, or cots are provided. The tub, Keith’s office closet, and basements are typically her lurking spots when she needs rest.

If Annika and Keith are sleeping in the same safehouse, despite trusting him more than anyone, Annika would put herself on lockdown, getting as much space between them as possible without breaking any of the rules.

Even with these precautions, Annika, whenever she sleeps, 4 times out of 10 wakes up screaming. It’s a blood curdling, pained, and dreadful screech. Just how it sounds would convince Keith that it isn’t real, maybe just how his brain copes with the repressed guilt or whatever, eh? Just another dream.

And Annika looks completely fine the morning after, well, as fine as she can look, still, there ain’t no way it’s coming from her. That sound can’t come from a human.

He’d play it off, for a while.

So, after my long ass yapping session- back to the original ask.

Achievement unlocked: Boring as FUCK- be so boring that even a deeply tormented Annika falls asleep during your yapping session

Keith’s voice is like white noise to her- and it reminds she isn’t alone. That there’s someone who’ll cover her six if something goes wrong. But it’s also so fucking boring like dude how the fuck do you stretch out a yes or no question into a lecture like… honk shoe mimimimimimi honk shoe mimimimimi

(I think Keith’s the kind of guy to turn a joke into a lecture)

Honestly, I think Annika would never pick up on it unless he told her. In the moment, all she can think of is “Fuck I started him again, we just got back-“ honk shoe mimimimi honk shoe mimimimi honk shoe

She thinks he likes to hear himself talk- something she learned that a lot of Americans do. Always talking a lot without actually saying anything.

Annika would never figure out that Keith’s doing it for her.

[hellaversity]

Vengeance is Futile (Chapter 1)

Verosika took a trip to Wrath, still venting over her past relationship with Blitzø while sitting alone on some rodeo bleachers, chugging down a whole bottle of beelzejuice. This might've been her fifth bottle in a row, as she had been sitting in this particular spot for quite a while now, moping about Blitzø. "Why him? Out of all the demons in Hell, I had to fall for that guy? Even to the point of never moving on from him for years, being obsessed with publicly humiliating him and throwing shitty ex-boyfriend parties about him every single year?"

Verosika was only just starting to realize that maybe she was taking her revenge over their breakup way too far. After all, she's doing much better than he is now, being super famous in two different dimensions, having much more money than he ended up taking from her and getting the attention of many fans who would jump at the chance to date her or bone her. Yet Blitzø was able to move on much better than she ever was, despite still being a peseant and pretty much a nobody outside of his business as far as Hell's society is concerned.

"What the fuck was I thinking assaulting that other imp guy who politely asked for his boss to have his parking space back? He had nothing to do with me and Blitzø's rocky at best relationship. Yet I sexually violated him just to piss off Blitzø. I went too far." She looked down in shame realizing what she did to that innocent guy who did nothing wrong other than willingly working for her shitty ex. What was his name again? Mickey? Monty? Something like that. "What's a pretty gal like you doing here being all down in the dumps like that?"

A deep, raspy, masculine voice that Verosika didn't recognize just spoke to her. She looked up and titled her head to the left side to notice a mysterious, ruggedly handsome cowboy-looking guy. He had typical male imp horns, but otherwise didn't look like any other imp she'd seen in her life. Most imps usually had red skin, plain yellow eyes and a human shaped head and face. This guy had tannish beige skin, ring patterned eyes and a long pointy snout, kinda like a snake.

"I'm sorry, what?" She asked him. "I said, what's a pretty gal like you doing here being all down in the dumps like that?" The pink succubus smiled awkwardly and felt her heart almost melting from this handsome man she didn't even know calling her pretty. Why? Others have called her sexy before. This shouldn't be anything new for her. "Well, you see there's guy i'm still hung up on." Verosika replied. The mysterious and handsome stranger sat down next to her, wanting to listen to her story. "Go on. I'm all ears. Anyways, the name's Striker."

Verosika cleared her throat before explaining. "Blitzø was this guy I dated six years ago. He was funny, charming, could hold his own his own in a fight and didn't care what others thought of him. Everything I wanted in a guy. I thought he was the one until.... until he broke my trust. He stole my money and credit cards, spent them on horse riding lessons and just dumped me. I should've realized he wasn't worth all the trouble, but for some reason, I became obsessed with getting revenge on him for years. Even throwing parties based around hating his guts. At one point I even sexually harassed one of his employees just to get back at him."

Striker thought that name of this ex boyfriend sounded familar. "Did you say his name was Blitzø?" Verosika nodded. "I met a guy named Blitzø. Him and his pansy little imp friends considered hiring me into their assasin business. We both participated in some competion called the Harvest Moon Festival, we tied. I asked him to join me but he refused because I tried to kill his ditzy bluebood boyfriend, now he fucking hates me."

Verosika was shocked to hear that Striker had met a guy with the same name as her ex and wondered if they were the same guy. "Did he have a half red half white face with big horns slightly curved at the end?" "Yeah, that's the one. Damn race traitor he is," Striker replied. They looked at each other realizing that they were, in fact, talking about the same Blitzø.

"Ya know, you look kinda familiar. Aren't you that famous succubus popstar who Wally Wackford is always harping about?" Striker asked. "Yup, that's me. Verosika Mayday's the name," said the pink succubus. Striker shook her hand and stood back up. "Anyway, it's getting late. See ya around, Miss Mayday." He was about to walk away until Verosika said "Wait! I was hoping you'd show me around. I don't come to Wrath very often and I don't remember a lot of the stuff that happens around here. Do you at least know where I can get a hotel room, or something?"

Striker looked backed at her. "Well, i'm not a tour guide. But I guess could show you around a bit. Don't expect it to be an everyday thing, though. Is that clear?" Verosika nodded and followed Striker around to see the wonders of Wrath.

Later that day.....

The cowboy took the popstar to his favorite bar and ordered his favorite alcoholic beverage, one for him and one for Verosika. Given how often she drank, Verosika chugged up the whole bottle in one go. Striker was shocked to see how fast she drank it. "Damn, pretty lady, slow down. You could start coughing up a storm if you keep drinking that fast," he warned her. Verosika just brushed off his warning. "Don't worry about me, cowboy. I've been doing this for over a decade. I'll be fine."

She drank two more bottles and burped. Striker was impressed that she didn't seem quite drunk yet. He admired her beauty as she drank another one, and another, and another. Soon, enough, the alcoholic succubus was tipsy. Striker was worried about her. What if she got wasted and passed out in the middle of the bar? "Miss Mayday, I believe that's enough. You can stop now. If you drink anymore you won't be able to think straight," he explained. Verosika just ignored him.

As she finally drank her last bottle, she felt a strange feeling her stomach and twitched her eye. "You know where the bathroom is?" She asked Striker. "Upstairs, first door on the right is the ladies room," the cowboy replied. Verosika went upstairs to the ladies room and threw up in the first toilet she could find. What was going on? She could usually drink way more than this and be just fine. Was her 37 year age finally catching up to her? Was it to time for her to tone her alcoholism down?

She threw up some more, washed her face with the toilet paper, flushed the toilet and finally washed her hands. But she didn't leave the bathroom right after that. She looked in the mirror to see her eyeliner and mascara slightly drying up and dripping down her eyelids. "Man, I was a fool for wanting something more with that asshole of an ex boyfriend. He probably just wanted a one night stand or an occasional fucking, yet I kept asking him to stay. I ended up being no better than him."

Verosika finally left after another minute of brooding and went back downstairs to meet up with Striker again. He was playing darts with some other imp guy who looked somewhat familar to her. She thought she recognized him as the bartender from Ozzie's who tried to offer her a drink before she shoved it away in his face. "Ahem." She cleared her throat to get Striker's attention. "Oh, what's up Miss Mayday? I got kinda bored waiting for you, so maybe I thought a little gameof darts could pass the time," Striker told her.

Verosika was slightly offended that this guy got tired of waiting for her, the most famous and attractive musician in all of Hell. On the other hand, she wouldn't mind watching a game of darts between Striker and....whoever this other guy was. He just noticed the beautiful succubus who he recognized from Ozzie's and the Halloween "Blitzø Sucks" party. He seemed to have taken quite a liking to her. But she couldn't be any less interested in him if she tried.

"Mind if I win for ya, Miss Mayday?" The other imp guy asked while wiggling his eyebrows. Verosika just recoiled im disgust at this guy trying to flirt with her. "Hold it there, Wacko. If anyone here has a higher chance of winning, it's me. I'm already beating you by 5 points," Striker bragged. "No one insults the great Wally Wackford and gets away with it!" Wally said angrily. But sure enough, Striker proved himself right by winning the game with 8 points ahead and 3 bullseyes. Wally was utterly disappointed in himself and just walked away in shame.

"Looks like that guy has been dealt with. What if I say I get you a hotel room around here?" Striker said to Verosika. She blushed at the thought of this guy actually offering her a place to stay. She was hoping he'd stay there with her for the whole night. They left and walked a long way to the nearest hotel. Wrath was a bitch of a place with nearly every store, house, bar and hotel being further away from each other than necessary. But countryland was just like that.

"You plan on coming here more often after this?" Striker asked. "Absolutely. This place isn't so bad even if i'm more used to big cities. It's certainly much quieter around here than where I come from," Verosika replied. "Even though you're rich, it's a good thing you're not of royal status. I probably wouldn't have given you the time of day," Striker said. "What do you have against royals?" Verosika wondered, nervously. Not that she cared THAT much. She was just curious.

"They always wanna push us lower-class demons around. Stomping on our feelings. Treating us like disposable garbage. Bunch of pompous ditzes, they are," Striker explained. Verosika's only response was a sweat drop. "Hehe, I see what you mean," she said in an awkward and nervous tone. "Well, if it isn't the slutty ex girlfriend of my stupid, annoying brother," said a third voice. Verosika thought that voice sounded familiar. She looked up to see Barbie Wire, the twin sister of her ex boyfriend Blitzø, who Verosika met back in rehab.

This day just got a whole lot worse.

[grimalkinmessor]

PLEAAAAASE tell me about the matsuda&misa swap.

What is rem like in this au? Does that change the way L is killed?

LMAO I honestly haven't thought that far ahead 😅

Hmmm I think I'd probably swap Rem and Gelus for this AU. Rem was the one who originally saw Matsuda and grew "fond" of him, before someone tried to kill him (probably some homophobic bastard instead of a stalker) and she intervened.

I imagine that since Matsuda is older than Misa Rem was watching him for a lot longer and it gave her more time to fall in love with him. I see Rem as generally more cautious than Gelus so she'd need more time to get to the point that she'd do something reckless. Gelus falls faster than her, though, so while I think Rem only fell for Misa AFTER Gelus died, Gelus fell for Matsuda before Rem died, so Matsuda gets the notebook earlier. But because his killing pattern is far closer to Light's than Misa's, it takes the Task Force longer to notice him, so he gets to kill for longer ✨

Gelus may not be as intimidating as Rem, and he wouldn't threaten Light in front of Matsuda, but he definitely pulls out some needles once they're alone and pulls a classic "If you hurt him I will put these in every single pore and orifice in your body. I won't kill you, but you'll WISH you were dead."

Light, ironically, is slightly more wary of Gelus than he would've been of Rem lmao.

As for how L would be killed—probably the same way. Gelus dies protecting Matsuda from getting found out, and thus L and Watari die :') The TIME probably changes, though, because the Task Force feels less pity for Matsuda for obvious reasons and thus he wouldn't be able to visit Light as early or often as Misa did. So L gets to live a few weeks longer than in canon :3

[justplainwhump]

Stalker

Posting out of order yet again, sorry!

This closes a gap - the first steps of a recently free Angel on a bumpy road that'll eventually lead to her revovery.

[Angel's story]

Doctor Tim Harris falls in love.

Content: BBU, conditioning, early recovery, predatory behaviour, stalking, very dubcon vibes, dubcon kiss.

The man stood in the shadows of the trees lining the narrow street in one of the worse parts of a better neighbourhood. Big houses with gardens just big enough to not let the curious neighbours too close, but too small for that air of being well-off that the adjacent streets could offer. One of the houses was under construction, from the looks of it had been for years, and it was the one next to it that Tim Harris was interested in.

The pattern of lights behind the windows suggested that the rooms had been made smaller, to accommodate more people. Like a boarding house, maybe. In a way of course, that's what it was.

A safehouse for runaway WRU pets. He knew where it was, because the owners - that probably wasn't a good word, the activists running it - were dangerously incautious. They brought the runaways to his practise, one or two a month, and he treated them after hours, because his ex - before she was his ex - had urged him to do something for the greater good. Things you do for love. And well, money. Of course, he let them pay him for it. He risked his appropriation after all, helping runaways hide their dirty pasts.

One of the volunteers left the house, calling something to say goodbye, and Tim withdrew a little further into the shadows.

He should double his fees, if it was so easy making that safehouse out. Maybe he'd think about that later.

Now, he wasn't here to gather information on pet lib. He was here to gather information on a pet.

Angel. 002238. He knew the number, because he'd looked at it so often, three sessions, until the black lines had faded and soon there'd be nothing left of the bar code.

She'd flirted with him all the time. Not let the pain deter her. He'd remarked to her, that other people cried during the procedure. She'd said that crying made her look less attractive, and she wanted to be at her best for him.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. Her soft, perfect skin, the freckles on her nose, those dark eyes that seemed so knowing and naive at the same time. When he'd asked her for a drink after their first session, the pet lib guy had looked at him like he was a creep and told him that she wasn't ready to consent. The second session, the guy had stayed in the room with them the entire time. That was the day Tim had followed them back home for the first time.

And today, in the last session, he'd managed to give her a message, lean in closely while placing the bandage around her wrist, trying hard not to be distracted by the smell of her hair. "Meet me, outside the house. 8."

She'd just smiled, and let her fingertips run over his hand.

He still shivered, remembering.

It was 8:20 already. But he was patient.

She'd show. He knew it. Her touch had held a promise.

There was light up in the room he'd figured was hers, first floor, second from the left, and he could see a shadowy figure move behind it. The curtains moved aside, the window swung open, and he recognised a halo of blond hair. Angel. Whoever had given her the name, they'd chosen perfectly.

The light in the room went off then, but he could see the open window in the dim street light. A long leg in short pants graciously swinging over the windowsill, another one, and there she was, climbing down the drain pipe. An angel, descending to meet him.

She landed on her feet silently, gaze running over the street, and he stepped forward into the light.

Her smile was as radiant as in his dreams. "Doctor Harris," she said. "You came for me."

"I did," he replied, cleared his dry throat. "Do they... do they lock you up in there?"

"They don't want us to go out at night. Not the newer ones, at least." She shrugged and looked back at the house over her shoulder. "They don't make sense. They say there are no rules, and then there are rules, but if we call them rules, it's wrong again."

"Do you..." The question sounded dumb, but it was half out already, and so Tim rolled with it. "Do you like rules?"

Angel looked at him funnily, thoughtful, with a cute crease between her brows.

"I don't think that's something to like. Rules are necessary. Discipline is necessary. How can I be good, if nobody tells me what to do to be good?"

"You still climbed out of your window, even after they told you to stay inside the house."

"You told me to come out and meet you." The gaze she cast him, half hidden under long lashes, made his heart skip a beat. "I obeyed."

She was taller than him, he realised, even on bare feet, but there was something she did, with her shoulders, or the way she tilted her head, that made her appear shorter, made her look up at him. He liked that.

She kept his gaze still, waiting for a reply. There was one, he knew it, tasted it on his tongue already. Ask any of the pet lib people in the house behind her, it would be the wrong one, for many reasons.

But he wasn't them, and she wasn't just any pet, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and she looked at him in a way none of his former girlfriends ever had.

He gently rested a hand to her cheek, let himself get lost in her gaze for another second, before he spoke, voice rough.

"Good girl."

She all but melted into his kiss.

[corpocyborg]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Tagged by @merge-conflict! (Thank you so much!)

I'm going to share a bit of two different fics that I've been working on lately.

The first excerpt is from "Secure Your Soul," which is a Cyberpunk 2077 AU in which Corpo V never left Arasaka but still ends up with Johnny in her head. Though that hasn't happened yet as this scene takes place prior to the events at Konpeki Plaza. For context, after Jenkins asked V to assassinate Abernathy, V warned her instead but was then arrested for "framing" Jenkins. This scene takes place in an interrogation room in Arasaka Tower.

“Get up, you goddamn backstabbing bitch.” V’s mind crossed the threshold into consciousness, and she jolted awake. Her neck ached from sleeping while sitting at a desk, but it was a familiar ache. It was the ache of all-nighters in front of a pile of paperwork, of endless stakeouts tracking a particularly elusive target, of netrunning sessions staring at lines of code until the one she needed jumped out at her. It was the ache of a rightful victory. She looked up at Abernathy and smiled. “Good morning, m’am. Something I can help you with?” Abernathy slammed her head into the desk. “Fuck,” V muttered. She had cranial armor implants, but they’d been taking a serious beating lately. “That's the second time in 24 hours someone’s done that to me.”

The second excerpt is from an untitled SWTOR fic featuring Ashara Zavros and my Light Side Sith Inquisitor, whose name is Nevara Kallig. It's from Ashara's point of view and takes place on the starship.

“I've been thinking more about what Master Cyman said,” Ashara began, abruptly breaking the peaceful silence that had hung over the room for the last few hours. “And I think he was wrong.” Lord Nevara Kallig looked up from the holographic display of the artifact she'd been studying and examined Ashara with the same curiosity. “Wrong about what, specifically?” Ashara mentally prepared herself. She knew this routine. Their dialogues often followed the same pattern. Lord Kallig pushed Ashara to explain and justify her every word, then she presented the opposing viewpoint, often so well that Ashara found herself changing sides. Only if she ever expressed agreement with the new perspective, Kallig would turn right around and make her defend that one, and the process would start over. Sometimes they'd circle around an idea six or seven times before her Master finally allowed the conversation to move on. “He believed that you were leading me astray. That you would corrupt me and cause me to fall to the dark side. But what bothers me is that although he believed that, he did nothing about it.” Kallig’s lips twitched upwards slightly. “What could he have done?” “He could've stopped me,” Ashara suggested. Then, more forcefully, she added, “He should have stopped me. If he really thought I would fall to the dark side, then it was his job to stop me. His duty as a Jedi.” Kallig nodded. “The Jedi do allow for violence. Generally as a last resort only, however.” Ashara couldn't help the twinge of annoyance she felt at a Sith correcting her about Jedi teachings. “But that's the problem! The Jedi's refusal to do what's necessary, to fight, it makes them weak! The Jedi will never beat the empire if they won't go on the offensive. And they'll never win peace either, if the empire can't respect them.”

I'm tagging @another-corpo-rat, @fereldanwench, @ghostoffuturespast, @luvwich, @daerani, @bnbc and @just-a-cybercroissant. No pressure!

[alyssalenko]

Complications

Lord Scourge finds himself dwelling on all his feelings before the final confrontation with The Emperor, afraid for his Jedi Companion and she does her best to be there for him. Also on A03 if you prefer.

Written for the SW:TOR Gift exchange for @ipreferfiction

He found himself watching her from across the room--his savior, his rescuer, his…complication. Two sides of the same coin, but polar opposites in the ways of the force. And yet, he was drawn to her despite all that--it was hard not to be when he'd been dreaming of her for three hundred years. A fact that had probably tinted his perception of her and truth be told, he hadn't expected a jedi…it should have bothered him more than it did. But now he couldn't imagine anyone else in the role--she'd freed him, accepted him into her crew, listened to him and made time for him…and he trusted her. More than he'd ever trusted anyone before. Who else but a jedi could make him feel like that? The beginning had been awkward and stilted between them, both of them clinging so desperately to their codes for protection. But as time went by, they'd eased into a familiar pattern, an easy repartee with the other that now they couldn't remember what it was like to not have the other around.

A fact that hadn't escaped Scourge's notice.

He actually looked forward to their talks now, loving how she challenged his way of thinking and he could do the same, Jedi and Sith finding the balance between their codes that neither side of the force wanted to acknowledge existed. He'd always been alone--wanted to be alone--never desiring another's touch or affection...but now? Now he craved it. He didn't even know when she broken down the walls he'd built around himself, but with all the time they'd spent together, falling in love had been the only logical conclusion and it had taken them both by surprise. Three hundred years ago, he would have fought against it tooth and nail–h e had a reputation he'd carefully cultivated as the Emperor's Wrath but now he was smitten. Somehow he kept revealing more and more pieces of himself, allowing himself to be vulnerable and exposed, but he'd admit it was a nice feeling. To give all of himself and get the same in return.

She was the one person in the galaxy that could keep up with him, that got him so completely without trying, going toe to toe and not backing down. She knew who he was, what he'd done in the service of The Emperor--and yet she still accepted him... loved him. He was the luckiest man in the galaxy and he wanted to return the favor, to protect her and learn everything about her. For what wasn't the first time, he marveled at her; how she was able to hold her own and not let crushing odds keep her down while also taking his mind off of their approaching fight with The Emperor. He hadn't been able to escape on his own and then she'd blown in and freed him from his servitude, with barely any effort. And despite their codes saying they should be enemies, they had found a common ground.

But he couldn't stop thinking about the approaching fight. What if they failed? What if she didn’t survive? What if she wouldn’t be around to challenge him and make him rethink just about everything anymore? What then? He didn't want to be without her after keeping her in his dreams for three hundred years and now having the real thing beside him.

"You're thinking very hard over here." She teased, making him jump--he was thoroughly unaware of when she'd crossed the room to his side…too lost in his own thoughts.

"I guess you just bring it out in me."

She rolled her eyes as she rolled up onto her toes and grabbed the lapel of his robes, Scourge letting her bring his face down to her level so she could press a brief kiss to the crease of his brow. The ghost of a smile flickered across his face; she'd turned his world upside down the moment they'd met--his Jedi. That was just it though: she was his...he’d felt drawn to her since the moment they met. Maybe it was the aura of power she exuded that didn’t come from her mastery of the Force; it came from her very soul, but underneath, there was a certain vulnerability—hidden where no one could see, she was headstrong, determined, good, and absolutely beautiful. He got to see a side of her no one else did, a side she hid under her growing list of titles and accolades from saving the galaxy. Scourge would never admit it out loud but he was very attracted to her—for more than just her looks, though those were incredible too. It was her presence; the way she inspired him and taught him to not take everything at face value and to be the best version of himself.

"Anything you'd care to share with the class?" That flicker of amusement in her eyes was captivating.

He drew her into the circle of his arms, chin resting atop her head. "It's nothing you don't already know."

With the way she was staring at him, he knew she didn't quite believe him but didn't push the issue. Scourge couldn't bring himself to voice the worst case scenario he'd been turning over and over in his head–if he told her, it'd give his nightmare more power over him and he couldn't let that happen. Wouldn't steal her focus from the task at hand. She sighed and rubbed her hands up and down his arms, wishing there was something she could do to stop the terrors that plagued his mind—it tore her apart inside that she couldn’t fix it. All she could do was try to be there for him and hope her presence was enough to push the fear to the back of his mind, even if they were always going to be lurking beneath the surface ready to strike…

"Scourge. You know I'm here for you right? Anything you need, you just have to ask."

He knew, but that didn't make things easier, so he just nodded. She sighed and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, before turning and heading towards her chambers, dragging him along behind her. He'd talk when he was ready, she knew that from experience and she'd be ready to listen, but for now she'd do her best to help him shake the phantoms from his mind…

[nellxsoto]

𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞.

I'll stay in the pool and drown So I don't have to watch you leave

For @josiahsterling

TRIGGER WARNING: death, injury, blood, gore, grief, alcoholism, addiction, rehab

Vik had promised her the stars. Thats all Nell could think about as she sat in the corner of the room, nursing the glass of ice water in her hands. She had been keeping her focus on the solid that dissipated into liquid as time went by. They would make their rounds, they would leave, she wound get to see the stars. The pattern allows her to drown out the voices around her, drown out the reminder of what this place used to be for her. An escape from the problems that festered beneath her skin. An escape that had soon consumed her before it was too late. Sooner or later, she found herself actually having some amount of fun. When Vik wasn't at her side she had engaged in a lovely conversation with Kit -- no wonder Ajay loved him. After the frequent visits to Gage in the hospital, the two of them needed to remember what it felt like to be alive again.

The thought felt selfish to Nell, the moment it crossed her mind. For there were so many people who should be here, with the people that loved them the most. It is this thought too that keeps the woman grounded, that is, until the world around her flickers and she is surrounded by blackness.

Run. It's the one thing she thinks to do. Thank god Vik is not far away, her hand wrapping around Vik's wrist as she makes a dash for the nearest exit. "We need to go!" She calls out to him. "We need to go now." It seems that he wordlessly agrees, eyes tracing over the faces in the club as she tries to find the ones she loves. She spots Max next to Adriana about to pass the threshold that separates the club from the safety of the outside, at least she hopes so. Eyes fall on Kit, Ajay.. the other girls from Mel's and the club. But there remains one person unaccounted for. Josiah.

"Jo?!" She calls out, her voice managing to echo in the throng of desperate faces. She needs him to be okay. Nell doesn't know what she'll do if he isn't.

Nell's childhood had been nothing like a normal childhood should be. It was filled with packing lunches, walking her siblings to the bus stop, paying the bills, rarely thinking of herself. Falling into a pattern like that is normal for a little girl -- believing in her heart of hearts that no one else would understand. Being alone would be her constant state of being. That is, until she met Josiah Sterling. He reminded her of bare feet connecting with the grass as they ran through the sunshine, faint whispers of encouragement to talk to her crush when they were nearby... it wasn't hard for her to face that Josiah Sterling taught her how to be a kid, when everyone else had expected her to grow up just a little too fast.

Coming back from rehab, the light that had once surrounded her had extinguished. She felt like a failure, having lost her grip on her control before she could stop it. Her first AA meeting had begun with her hood up, hoping to be unrecognizable even if she had never seen any of these faces before. Maybe she had on the street, sitting at a table in the diner. That is, until she locked eyes with a face she couldn't possibly forget. While initially silent, it seemed that their eyes spoke the same words that they had never thought they would say.

You too?

Vik and Nell manage to make it outside -- but still with no sign of Josiah. She had to go back in there. The woman didn't care what damage it did to her, not if it meant seeing his face again. "Vik -- I can't leave him in there..." Her voice cracks as she tries to pull away from the man she loves with no avail. It's then she realizes he doesn't know who she's referencing, who she'd be willing to put herself on the line for. "I can't leave Josiah in there!" She can't. She can't.

It is in that moment that police cars and ambulances descend on the scene, the air from Nell's lungs releasing into the broken evening without even thinking. She thought she had forgotten how to breathe. It appeared that everyone else was accounted for, some familiar faces being wheeled away on stretchers. Mateo was being checked out by a paramedic, something in Nell easing when she realizes he is still breathing. There are some other faces she acknowledges -- still no Josiah.

That is, until she sees a body bag being wheeled out of the club. This causes her blood to run cold. It can't be who she thinks it is, but the seconds that pass by -- it becomes more and more real.

"No.." She says at first, her voice cracking. She wants to look away, but she can't. When the doors of the coroner's van finally shut, that's when her screaming becomes more and more frenzied. "Josiah?!" She calls out, finally breaking free from Vik's grasp as her call becomes more and more like a whimper with every word. "Josiah?!"

She can hear Vik calling out from behind her. To come back.

The sight of Danny covered in blood causes her worst fear to come true. He's gone. He's really gone. Someone took her family away from her. How cruel could the universe really be, or the people that had decided to dawn the mask of The Shadow and play god? It's as if she looses all bodily control as she feels her knees make contact with the gravel of the road, inches away from where the sea of help begins. She doesn't acknowledge what's happening between her sobs as her vision becomes blurry. When she feels a pair of strong arms wrap around her, she can only assume it's Viktor. Regardless, her head is in her hands as her cries become harder to ignore.

I'll do it for you, Jo. I'll stay on the right path, I'll keep my shit together. Everything I do, it will be for you.

My brother.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

“I’m not surprised,” she said flatly.

She chuckled nervously. “I’ve actually… I’ve already been doing that, since my first raid. I uh, I knew I’d need armor eventually, so it’s best to be prepared, right?”

“No, that’s not what I meant, just… ugh, whatever, we can do that instead, it’s fine. I did already help Gobber today anyways.”

She walked towards the exit, holding open the door for Hiccup before she herself left the Hall.

The walk was mostly quiet, Danny not really having an idea of what to say. It’s not that she was mad at Hiccup or anything, she was just… down in the dumps a little.

It was stupid as to why, but it had been a while since she was alone for that long, unwillingly at least; she still liked her peaceful walks through the woods and her time alone in her room, drawing, reading, something of the sorts, but still, she liked being around people.

Once they got to his hut, Danny walked in after him, making sure to close the door behind her.

“So… how do you wanna do this? It’s basically just the same thing as the claws, right, but just with my entire body?

Looking around the hut, she took notice of the lack of Astrid and Zephyr. “Also what time is Astrid coming back with Zephyr? Just so I know when I gotta be out of here by. Besides, sun’s already starting to set, and I don’t want Mom to get worried if I don’t come back until super late.”

Hiccup grinned. "Thinking ahead, I like it! We should have more than enough scales, then!" That first raid was not long after Hiccup and Astrid got married, so Danny would have her pick of colors and patterns to use from Twilight's scales.

He nodded, staying silent. It was clear Danny was upset about something, but he knew she'd tell him if she wanted to. Hiccup just did his best to be patient, and to try to cheer her up as best he could.

As they walked, he tried to think of something, anything, but kept coming up short. Toothless was actually a lot more successful at cheering Danny up than he ever was...of course, that usually involved causing Hiccup to trip and fall.

As they went inside, he had felt like he'd failed, having been quiet the whole time trying to think of what to say.

"Uh, yeah, basically the same. Let me grab my measuring tools and some paper, I'll be right back."

He'd disappeared into another room, coming back out a moment later.

"Oh, uh...I think she said she'd be back shortly after sunset, but she usually ends up staying later than planned."

Taking a step back, he asked, "Can you hold your arms out? I'll start there."

[bvnnyl0v3r]

It was a cold winter, the snow flakes fell and every passing second the green grass froze into an icy blue before being covered in a multitude of unique patterns that each of the ice crystals had. Genevieve Middleton was sitting in the winter garden, waiting for her fiancé Edwin Morath who was getting tea from the kitchen. Usually the Maids or butlers would do such act, however due to the heavy snow falling there was no possible way for them to get anywhere near the manor. Genevieve was currently looking out the window, watching the ice crystals fall onto the floor, nature slowly dying again as it did every year before being reborn again. It was truly weird, only a thin wall of glass was keeping the room from freezing, only a thin wall of glass was keeping the flowers alive and only a thin wall of glass was keeping the fire in the furnace from dying. Edward came into the room with a porcelaine salver, decorated with roses that held two cups, a teapot, a sugarbowl and a tea caddy, all of the same material in a blueish white colour. Each of the teaware had the same pretty rose running along their bodies, resembling a set. Specifically a set that Genevieve had been gifted as for their engagement.

She gently took off one of the cups as she took a gentle sip from it, the tea having already cooled off a bit. Edward stood next to her and while Genevieve's eyes were only on the outside, looking through the glass into the garden that would soon be revieved again by its natural beauty, his eyes were only on her. He had loved her ever since they had met on the 6th of june 1906. He remembered every little bit of it. Her lavender perfume, the violet dress and her updone hair. He admired her simplicity, it was in its own way the most extraordinary thing he had ever seen. Every woman that had tried to get his attention wore a multitude of different colors and accessories, each of them looking dumber than the last.. but she. She had always kept a simple pattern. Light pastels that could nearly be counted as white, the same up out hair every day and no makeup. It was foolish to think that any amount of makeup could hold up with her natural beauty. Her pale skin almost as white as her hair, and her eyes so light in color they simply couldn't be counted as blue anymore. Edward knew he would outlive her eventually... he couldn't bear the thought of the prettiest flower he had every seen dying.

"Say, Genevieve, how long have we been together for..."

"Why, I think it was around two years now.... yes... two years. The sixth of july 1907 we got together... and it is currently the 25th of august 1909..... so really it must be two years"

She had always been talkative. If it was about the plants and animals in her garden or the families in town, she always had something to talk about. She was the only person he knew who could talk for hours about the most boring themes.

"Two years.... it's not enough, it simply isn't. I need more. More time."

she looked into his eyes with surprise before chuckling, a closed eyed smile

"well I can't travel into the future that's for sure"

she opened her eyes again, the smile still very much present 

"I guess it is good then we haven't married yet... It'd be a shame truly if we got torn apart by something as pitiful as death... let us stay together even after death, yes? Let's die together, or at least change our wedding vows, that we'll find one another even in the afterlife. I couldn't bare staying in a grave for all of eternity..."

he sighed, of course she didn't know what he meant, she never would. She didn't know about his curse, she didn't know she'd die without him. He was mumbling again, the same words over and over. Death was coming and he couldn't stop it. Death was jealous of him. Death would take her to him and she would leave. She would leave him for death. He rambled on about how it was driving him insane, that they wouldn't be together in life forever, that he would give anything for the bith of them to stay aluve forever

"Edward"

her voice echoed through the wintergarden

"I don't want to live forever. It'd be a terribly lonely life. Even with you by my side... we'd make friends and we'd loose them just as quick. We'd loose the meaning of life slowly, our souls would die. We would see everything and it would slowly take our will to life. And don't you understand? That would be terrible, to life in a world that has no meaning, you'd want to die.... and then you'd have no escape"

A loud groan, nearly a scream emitted from his lungs

"You don't get it! You never will, I love you, why won't you get it? Why won't you get that I love you? I don't want you to die. Ever."

There was a slight look of dread in her eyes

"Have you thought about this Edward? Have you thought about the public? Even if we lived forever, they would hate us. If anyone found out they'd try to burn us and even if we would be immortal, we'd collect scars upon scars. Eternal youth may be beautiful but it's simply be boring, and it could be ruined by any person that has common sense and a lighter. The people are afraid, Edward. They burn everything the can't explain."

Silence entered the winter garden. Genevieve drank the rest of her tea while Edward's still stood on the salver wich he ahd previously put down on the table near the couch. It was cold by now and he knew it. He hated tea, yet he asked for a cup for himself everytime Genevieve asked. Because if there was one thing he hated more than tea it was Genevieve doing something without him, it reminded him to much that some day, she would die without him.

[cipheramnesia]

In the end, Loren and Dandridge spent the better part of the day in the mark-out. The highlight for Sy remained split between snagging digits from Brian, and the pair of hot bao they each picked up from a street vendor. He hadn't come across anything that had the oddly pleasant stringy and chewy texture of what he figured as the protein and something greenish brown, just a little bit crisp, chopped up and mixed together inside a soft carb wrapper of some type. He'd blown air through his mouth to cool it down while Dandridge smirked. It would have been annoying but Loren ate his the same way.

"You won't burn your tongue if you wait like three minutes," Dandridge said.

Around hot bites and a full mouth, Loren said, "It's better hot."

"What is it?" Sy asked, similarly engaged in trying to eat each steaming bite the minute he could swallow.

"Just garlic beef and broccoli," Dandridge said, taking his first experimental bite before deciding to take a bigger bite.

"It's really good!"

Dandridge just shrugged, too busy trying to blow air through his mouth to cool his bite down.

After lunch they hit up one building after another, Loren's wide eyed and excited explanations of their civs, followed up by Dandridge and his cynical disregard for what each new trader always assured them was the best offer, seemingly an effective tactic to Sy's understanding. Then again, he didn't know how you'd place a value on a genetic splicer which utilized an untested fluid based summoning ritual, a room sized gateway for what was either an alien god or intended for ocean trawling, air that when inhaled permitted the user to breathe chlorine gas, and some items which Sy didn't completely appreciate.

"I would have given my left arm to get a crack at that fishing gate," he said to Loren, as they were on the way back to the Paperclip.

"Sure," Loren said. "Me too, so would Cat for that matter. That's this job though, you gotta he curious enough to know what you're trading, cynical enough to give it up. And that table netted a hundred twenty kee's of diamond, which your weird computer is gonna... eat?"

Sy nodded. "Yeah, it eats diamonds."

Dandridge shook his head while Loren continued. "Anyway, if your wolf girl got lucky, that's gonna make a really tidy snack."

Sy blushed and murmured Laika wasn't his girl, but Loren and Dandridge got distracted with Dandridge insisting they could have done better with a pattern diamond currency change and Loren claiming it was too close to gambling. Sy smiled to himself a little. Whatever they'd traded would be loaded soon, cashed into the Paperclip crew accounts, and they'd be headed for the rendezvous point.

It'd be nice to see Laika again, he liked her shy smile. Hopefully everything was going smoothly on her end.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Laika collapsed into the freezing cold dirt of the moon, in the dark. She was breathing hard, her leg still ached, but she had a case of stardust tight against her chest to balance the weight of the extra peck of ghosts pulling at her soul.

A moment later Doc had her lights up and was breaking down the artifact she'd used to translate to the Ghostlands. The silver disc was pitted and scarred, while the frame was blackened and nearly burned through in places. When she unscrewed the water circulation system, several parts crumbled to dust. Doc did her best to scoop the dust into the carrying case along with the ruined mechanism.

The absence of the field of black-out stary eyes made the formerly familiar surface of Luna uncomfortable for Laika. She felt like the stars were too far away, and she might just fall up into the sky forever. Laika pulled herself to a sitting position. "Sloane, I think it's trashed. Let's just go, no one's gonna fine us for littering." She shivered, the cold in her mind snaked through her veins.

"Blaine," Doc said, more absently than usual. "We don't learn to fall from birds." Doc placed the last twisted bit of scrap in its place and stood up. "No insect is less trivial than those crushed against the glass," she added by way of explanation, which Laika wanted to ask about, but Doc was already walking.

Laika carefully stood up with her baggage and limped after Doc. In a few moments more her phone blinked and sent digital distortion into her ears for a half second.

"Hey GK," she said. "Nice to see you waited for us."

There was a tone Laika couldn't quite place in its voice as GK replied, "It was my greatest hope in the past hours you might forswear the alleged humor of which your species seems so fond. I see once again I am to embrace disappointment."

"Missed you too. We're headed back, obviously, with some of the godseye stuff Loren was talking about. Turns out he wasn't full of shit."

"There is no additional form of energy matter I can detect. You should inspect- Ah, there is new information in your region. This does not type match any structure of this system. I would suggest we delay our rendezvous to conduct analysis of the structure. I may find useful information in its composition."

Laika closed and latched the outside case and limped a bit faster to catch up with Doc. She glanced at the sky again as she jogged, and it was black and empty as ever. She finally figured out the weird tone in GK's voice. Relief, and affection. "Sure GK. We got time, and it's not like anyone's looking for us way out here."

"That," GK replied, "is not entirely correct."

Part 4: A Midnight Summer Dream

a story by @rox-and-prose and @cipheramnesia

Luna was a pale sliver of paint in the stars, a slip of the brush in the forever of the sky.

"That's it," Michele Loren said. "This is where we head our separate ways for the moment."

Laika took her hand of the control vines for Genghis Khan as she stared wordlessly. The earth civ moon, original version, a system unto itself. She had devoured all she could find about Luna, the multifacet god, in hopes to understand the call she felt in the days after leaving home. She'd put the hope of seeing Luna with her own eyes at the bottom of a box and buried the idea. Her muzzle hung slightly agape as she searched for something momentous to say, to share with GK how much it meant to be in the here and now.

She noticed Sy was watching her, and the dryad smiled and glanced away when he saw her seeing him. She blushed and her face felt hot, and she forgot her train of thought.

"I never imagined I'd rob the moon," she said.

"You're only robbing a very, very small part of it," Cat Nguyen corrected.

The crew of the Paperclip were sharing the bridge of Genghis Kahn, with varying expressions of perplexity on their faces watching the werewolf executing the peculiar movements and footwork involved in manipulating the various switches and nerves and pedals essential to a Pilot. Even Doc seemed entranced, silent through all the system jumps, or structure solutions, or whatever GK liked to call them. All except Dandridge who returned to the Paperclip immediately in a sullen huff, vowing never to set foot on GK ever again. Laika was going to need to find out what exactly GK had done to piss him off so bad.

Now they were gathering up helmets and and gloves for their envirosuits, looking around for just the right way to excuse themselves from the room which Laika had seen enough of before she was eight to recognize. "Okay," Loren said. "Well, you know. This should go fine, just stick with the plan, keep it simple, you know."

"I can do better than that," Doc (Laika still hadn't figured out if the woman was Blake Sloane, or Sloane Blake, or something else), pushing her bracelets along with the sleeve of her purple, double breasted, knitted suit jacket. "I can stick the plan to me." There was a mess of writing which Laika deeply hoped was meant to look smeared and half erased on Doc's forearm.

"That's, that's a great- Good job Sloane."

"Doctor Blake, why can't you ever get my name right?!"

"I'm sorry. Doctor Blake. Fantastic work as always." Loren turned to Laika. "Look, I don't know how to uh. You know how much work this has been for me. Well, just be careful. Make sure next time I see you, you have the godseye or Doc, or both. Or don't let me see you again?"

"Is that a threat," Sy asked.

"Think of it as friendly advice," Loren said.

"And also as a threat," Nguyen added, despite Loren's sharp look. "What?" she shot back at his frown.

"Do I have do go with these guys?" Sy looked at Laika who said "no" at the same time as Loren and Nguyen said "yes."

"We'll keep our end," Nguyen said, "along with your friend. You keep yourself along with Doc."

"Who you wouldn't be sorry to see killed, I gather."

"We'd prefer she come out of this mostly intact," Loren sounded almost apologetic.

"Okay, okay, fine. Let's not draw this out, I get it."

Loren breathed a small sigh of relief and Nguyen just smiled. "We'll get going then," he said.

"Take care of yourself," Laika gave Sy a shoulder pat as he walked by, then impulsively pulled him into a hug.

"I'll be good," he said into fur. "You have the hard job."

"Pulling off the heist?"

"Being alone with, uh, the Doc."

Loren and Nguyen waited at the entryway to the bridge. Laika set down Sy from the hug and stood her full height. "Oh," she said. "Before you go? GK, please threaten them."

Its voice coming from nowhere as usual, GK said, "Thank you Laika, for this commendable request. Captain Michele Loren of the Paperclip, please prepare for receiving a threatening missive."

"What?"

"Captain Michele Loren, Pilot Cat Nguyen, and the remaining crew of the ship Paperclip not present aboard myself, I am placing you under the advisement that should even the smallest fraction of an injury occur to Pilot Laika Blackwood, or Sy Drangea, electrical engineer, I will track you to the end of earth civilization space, and to parts unknown. You will never know safety or peace for as long as you remain alive. I will find your dreams, and take them from you. There will be no power up to and including the total heat death of this universe which will stop me from extracting your lives in payment. If you die, I will find yours souls. I will tear apart the essence of your beings. I will disperse the electrons of your bodies into every star of this universe. I will burn your souls to ash. Nothing will remain. Please ensure Sy returns safely to me upon our next meeting."

Loren stared, open mouthed.

"Uh," said Nguyen, "You're... really good at that."

"Thank you," said GK. "Your praise is insignificant to me. Please have a safe trip."