#event haulers

[wolfspaw]

[writers-potion]

I'm writing a sci-fi story about a space freight hauler with a heavy focus on the economy. Any tips for writing a complex fictional economy and all of it's intricacies and inner-workings?

Constructing a Fictional Economy

The economy is all about: How is the limited financial/natural/human resources distributed between various parties?

So, the most important question you should be able to answer are:

Who are the "have"s and "have-not"s?

What's "expensive" and what's "commonplace"?

What are the rules(laws, taxes, trade) of this game?

Building Blocks of the Economic System

Type of economic system. Even if your fictional economy is made up, it will need to be based on the existing systems: capitalism, socialism, mixed economies, feudalism, barter, etc.

Currency and monetary systems: the currency can be in various forms like gols, silver, digital, fiat, other commodity, etc. Estalish a central bank (or equivalent) responsible for monetary policy

Exchange rates

Inflation

Domestic and International trade: Trade policies and treaties. Transportation, communication infrastructure

Labour and employment: labor force trends, employment opportunities, workers rights. Consider the role of education, training and skill development in the labour market

The government's role: Fiscal policy(tax rate?), market regulation, social welfare, pension plans, etc.

Impact of Technology: Examine the role of tech in productivity, automation and job displacement. How does the digital economy and e-commerce shape the world?

Economic history: what are some historical events (like The Great Depresion and the 2008 Housing Crisis) that left lasting impacts on the psychologial workings of your economy?

For a comprehensive economic system, you'll need to consider ideally all of the above. However, depending on the characteristics of your country, you will need to concentrate on some more than others. i.e. a country heavily dependent on exports will care a lot more about the exchange rate and how to keep it stable.

For Fantasy Economies:

Social status: The haves and have-nots in fantasy world will be much more clear-cut, often with little room for movement up and down the socioeconoic ladder.

Scaricity. What is a resource that is hard to come by?

Geographical Characteristics: The setting will play a huge role in deciding what your country has and doesn't. Mountains and seas will determine time and cost of trade. Climatic conditions will determine shelf life of food items.

Impact of Magic: Magic can determine the cost of obtaining certain commodities. How does teleportation magic impact trade?

For Sci-Fi Economies Related to Space Exploration

Thankfully, space exploitation is slowly becoming a reality, we can now identify the factors we'll need to consider:

Economics of space waste: How large is the space waste problem? Is it recycled or resold? Any regulations about disposing of space wste?

New Energy: Is there any new clean energy? Is energy scarce?

Investors: Who/which country are the giants of space travel?

Ownership: Who "owns" space? How do you draw the borders between territories in space?

New class of workers: How are people working in space treated? Skilled or unskilled?

Relationship between space and Earth: Are resources mined in space and brought back to Earth, or is there a plan to live in space permanently?

What are some new professional niches?

What's the military implication of space exploitation? What new weapons, networks and spying techniques?

Also, consider:

Impact of space travel on food security, gender equality, racial equality

Impact of space travel on education.

Impact of space travel on the entertainment industry. Perhaps shooting monters in space isn't just a virtual thing anymore?

What are some indsutries that decline due to space travel?

I suggest reading up the Economic Impact Report from NASA, and futuristic reports from business consultants like McKinsey.

If space exploitation is a relatiely new technology that not everyone has access to, the workings of the economy will be skewed to benefit large investors and tech giants. As more regulations appear and prices go down, it will be further be integrated into the various industries, eventually becoming a new style of living.

[digitalsymbiote]

The Solar Sprint

You ever heard of the Cannonball Run? It was a thing back on earth, back before corpo wars. It was an unsanctioned race across a continent. Folks would trick out cars with extra fuel tanks, police scanners, the works, and just burn their way from one ocean to the other. Driving for something like a day straight, avoiding cops all the way, and only stopping to refuel. Kinda wild, don’t you think? A test of speed and stamina, seeing how hard you could really push your vehicle.

That’s what the Solar Sprint started out as, you know. First time someone ran it, the Jovian blockade was still up. They blew right past the military lines, their mech too fast for any of those combat frames to catch. It was big news at the time, everyone thought it was some secret R.O.M. tech built to break the blockade. Turned out it was just some wrench-head who wanted to see how fast they could get from Mercury to Neptune. The crazy fucker actually did it too, straight shot from the solar collection station on Mercury, all the way to the NDS Research outpost. The scientists there nearly shit themselves when the Runner went blasting past their observatory like that. Can’t imagine they saw any frames out there that weren’t clunky research models before then, especially with the blockade still up.

There’s still footage of the first sprint up on the Net if you look. Some cargo hauler caught footage of the Runner nearly side-swipping his freight ship between Earth and Venus. There was a leaked clip of them breaking the Jovian blockade too, but you might be hard pressed to find that one these days. runners sometimes carry hard copies though, so if you run into the right people you might be able to see it.

It became a whole thing, y’know? Kind of a fuck you to the corps, the wars, all of it. Building frames in a different way, not just for blowing each other up. Was a kind of creative revolution, an expression of freedom. Corps can’t keep us down, yeah? Something like a thousand runners tried it over the next couple years. Not all of em made it; some of em got caught by the blockade, some of em their frames couldn’t handle the trek. But enough of em made it that it started to become a real competition. Who could make the sprint in the fastest time? Folks posted on forums about crazy ideas they were coming up with for propellants, aerodynamics, you name it. Gearheads across the net had a brand new obsession to pour over.

Soon enough though, the corps caught on, realized it was easier to sanction the thing than to try and stop people from doing it. Enough cargo freighters crashed, enough blockades ran, it became more profitable to make an event out of the thing. The Sprint lost some of it’s luster after that. Speed frames plastered with sponsorships and built with corpo parts didn’t really capture the energy of the original run. The yearly Sprint is technically open to public teams, but any self respecting Runner isn’t gonna attempt it during sanctioned times. Kinda defeats the purpose of it all if they clear the shipping lanes and wait for optimal conditions, right?

Every once in a while though, you might spot somebodies custom frame sitting in orbit around the solar collection station. And who knows? They might be the next crazy wrench-head to break that record.

[cuprohastes]

OK, New Plan.

Space piracy isn't a thing. It's not economical, practical or something anyone can pursue for any length of time.

Anyway, the ship had been captured by space pirates, and they'd dropped the temperature in the passenger modules down to a few ticks under the freezing point of water: The Atrix passengers were all huddled up, torpid, protecting their little guys, and the Thotari Pirates were planning on pillaging the cargo and personal possessions while things were quiet.

They'd checked the manifest: 12 Atrix passengers, and four crew, also Atrix. Easy pickings.

So it was a little bit of a surprise when they cracked the door to the passenger module and one of the Atrix turned out to be somewhat genetically human.

It was holding a hot beverage in one hand and used the other to grip the first Thotari Contract Pirate around their scrawny neck, dragging them off their feet.

Then it used that individual to beat the others until they snapped their contract markers and sat their asses down.

Everyone knows the Thotari take contracts very seriously. Snapping the marker was as good as surrender: No Thotari with any self respect would work unpaid.

The Pirate Executive Officer, employed for her bulk and experience took personal umbrage regarding this whole mess and thundered onto the ship, with several large sharp weapons, and some very cool looking armour, determined to perpetrate terminal events to the Human's biology.

The Human took one look and threw it's drink in her face. Then gave her a vicious kicking while the bitter alkaloids in the toxic concoction caused the PEO to collapse with uncontrollable spasms.

According to the logs, the Human took time out and poured another cup of coffee, turned the heat up, glared at the rest of the Thotari until they snapped their contract markers rather than deal with any of that and walked onto the Pirate's ship.

At which point they called the Pirate's backer up, and spent a half hour explaining in horrifying detail what they would personally do to that individual, and how much worse it was going to be if they didn't stop this inane crap.

The Thotari picked up their PEO and hooked her up to their ship's medical bay, said 'no hard feelings it's just business' and left.

---

"How was your trip?" asked Dave The Human.

"Pretty quiet," said Phalanges Mitten, AKA Dave. "Glad to be back, though. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to take a decent nap on those haulers - And don't get me started on the Coffee!"

[azzie-beastbinder]

The Aftermath of a Reckoning

Satoru Umezawa made a point to expect the unexpected. Omenpaths to backwater planes, hotshot teenagers who left the gang as quickly as they tried to join it, people plotting to take his place as the Hyozan boss ��� these were all things he was used to.

But a three-in-the-morning visit from a “rival” Reckoner boss and a squid-looking man casually strolling into his office when he had just shut off his datapad was not high on the “expect the unexpected” list.

“Question one,” Satoru began, suddenly craving coffee to put up with this, “how the hell did you get in here, and question two, why three in the morning?”

“Answer one, we used the car,” Koda said, stepping forward so he was firmly on the other side of the desk between the two Reckoner bosses, “and answer two, we just broke into and out of prison and busted your Hyozans out. You and I need to talk.”

That was when Satoru finally noticed the thick folder in Koda’s hands. The younger man dropped it on the desk and shoved it closer to Satoru. Satoru felt his blood run cold when he saw his own name on it. His metal prosthetic didn’t shake as he turned it around and flipped open to the first page, only to be greeted by a picture of himself, at a mere fifteen years old, training under Ayame Hayashi – Koda’s mother.

His mouth felt dry. “Who put this together?”

“Sakai,” Koda spat. “I murdered him yesterday. Him and every Futurist in his branch. For what he did to me, to Mom, to Benkei-” Koda stopped, closing his eyes. His nostils flared for a second, but he did a remarkable job of not snapping or yelling.

The cephalid moved forward, joining Koda on the other side of Satoru’s desk. “First of all, the car – a Capennan Hoard Hauler – is in the hallway with all your guys we busted out of the prison. Got it through with my Omenpath. Second, you don’t have to be secretive, I know the whole deal with all of this between you and Koda. I downloaded most of Koda’s important memories along with his medical knowledge. Mind magic is great. Lastly, Koda’s evil grandparents – on the human side, not the oni side – sponsored everything Sakai did. He found that out after he did his whole stabby-stabby thing. Very cool, very satisfying to watch from my lenses. Sakai was paralyzed the whole time, which was a while.”

Satoru blinked a few times, then turned his attention back to Koda. “Where did you get this guy” – he gestured to the cephalid – “and can you get me three more?”

“I didn’t find Vasro, he found me,” Koda deadpanned. “And New Capenna doesn’t make any more Vasros. He hit all of the important notes, except for the vampires who want to crusade against the Imperial Court for how they treat Reckoners like us. The only thing stopping them at the moment is the giant evil bat god in their home plane who’s trying to bring in an age of everflowing blood and who honed in on my kinks instead of my insecurities like an amateur.”

Satoru leaned back in his chair, steepling his metal fingers together as he processed it. Someone who could create Omenpaths was certainly helpful to have around, and the fact that this Vasro had agreed to break into an Imperial prison with Koda in order to get Satoru’s own Hyozan Reckoners out said leagues about his willingness to help Koda. That was when the oni part finally caught up with Satoru. “You’re what, Koda?”

Koda sighed. It was the kind of sigh that only someone who had looked in the face of a god recently could make. “Yeah, turns out the reason Mom kept my father’s identity quiet is because he’s an oni. Which I only found out through a series of increasingly more bullshit events. Please tell me you have coffee, I am running solely on spite, period cramps, and part of a party hoagie.”

Well, if there was one thing that could be said about Satoru, it was that he would never pass up information. Nevermind the fact that it was usually gossip. He shoved the dossier into one of his desk drawers to go over later, then stood up. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee, come on,” he said, moving around the desk to head towards the door. He didn’t miss the bit of magic that Vasro did before the younger men both followed him.

Sure as shit, there was a strange vehicle sitting perfectly parked in the hallway outside of Satoru’s office. Satoru kept his back pressed against the wall as he moved past it to get towards the breakroom. Thistlefur – bless his aged heart – was already checking the freed Hyozans, leaning on his cane. Satoru nodded in respect to the nezumi healer who had raised him as he passed with Koda and Vasro, and Thistlefur nodded back and gave Satoru the “we’ll talk later” look that he had learned to dread since he was six years old.

The breakroom, thankfully, was a lot less busy than the infirmary now was. Satoru put on a pot of coffee and leaned back against the counter while the three of them waited for it. He gave Koda a pointed look and crossed his arms. “Okay Hayashi. I’m not going to ask you to start at the beginning, because knowing you, you’ll go back two hundred years in history, if not further. So start at the most important part of the oni thing. How did you figure this out?”

Koda grumbled under his breath for a moment, then began his explanation. “So, the plane of Ixalan is having a problem with a giant bat god that created the vampires there, and he’s been trying to fuck around in my dreams and tempt me with empty promises of power, like he fucks around in everyone’s dreams to tempt them with empty promises of power. When he made me have the dream, though, I kind of...appeared as two people at first. A human that looked like Ayame, and an oni. Both had my tattoos, and the oni half resisted the bat bastard’s whispers more than the human half. When they both finally came to an agreement, I was just me again.”

“That’s just the confirmation,” Vasro butted in. “It really all started with my boss, Raffine, who told him he was ‘halfway to being like Kagemaro’. So Koda researched Kagemaro in one of the Living Historians’ libraries but an emergency pulled him away from the book he found, and when he came back, the book got checked out, so I stole the book, had it copied, and returned it to the person who had been checking it out without them noticing. But then all the notes he took from the book destroyed themselves, so I made him write an essay to bypass it, then I gave the essay to my boss Raffine and she rewarded his 92% by giving him a riddle. Also, Kagemaro was a human so evil he turned into an oni, and my boss is a sphinx that tells the future and runs a crime family. We play psychological warfare chess about every other week.”

Satoru blinked twice. “You wrote an essay?” was all he could think to ask.

Koda groaned. “That’s the wrong thing to focus on, Umezawa.”

Satoru shook his head and refocused. “Right. Okay then. What was the riddle?”

“It was ‘A syllable for each unspeaking mouth / The cold peaks call from home / Blood is cast like shadows’,” Koda repeated. “We know that the second line has to do with the Sokenzan mountains, but other than that, I’ve been hitting nothing but dead ends. Mostly because my main priority is the evil bat god trying to lure me and others into his grasp.”

“At least you have your priorities straight?” It came out as more of a question than Satoru intended.

“It’s the straightest thing about me,” Koda deadpanned once more.

That was when the coffee pot finished warming up and spat its contents into the pot underneath the nozzle. Satoru grabbed it and reached up into the cabinet to grab some mugs, muttering curses under his breath when he realized that some had been put back dirty. Of all the things in the safehouse, one would think that Reckoners understood the importance of clean mugs for coffee. Once he found three that were clean, he poured the coffee into each and handed one to Koda and the second to Vasro.

“So what’s the plan?” Satoru asked, holding his own cup. His prosthetics didn’t transmit information about temperature to the rest of his body – the downside of him having to figure out on his own how to make prosthetics. “Because you’ve always got schemes in that head of yours, Hayashi.”

“The downside of you knowing me from the day I was born,” Koda chuckled before he blew gently across the surface of his coffee. “Yeah, I’ve got a couple things in the air. Highest priority is the evil bat god thing. High priority is handling Tatsunari since he went nuts. Medium priority is hunting down everyone else that Ichiro and Yuna have been funding in order to keep things shitty for us all. Low priority is finding out more about what oni fathered me. Lowest priority is taking a nap.” He sipped his coffee.

“Don’t make me put you in a chokehold again, Hayashi.”

“Eat shit, Umezawa.”

Satoru sipped his own coffee and promptly scalded every tastebud in his mouth. He tried not to make it obvious as he spoke again. “What do you need from the Hyozans, Koda?”

Koda, apparently unbothered by how hot his own coffee was, drank heartily before he finally surfaced for air to respond. “Information. I need your network digging into anything and everything related to oni and any historical half-oni. I’d have Azzie digging for it, but they’re with Zenkuro and Goro-Goro making sure that the evil bat god doesn’t come through an Omenpath in the Sokenzan mountains. Goro-Goro has been exploding the god’s followers with lightning.”

“...I feel like the danger of another fucking extraplanar invasion probably should have been higher on the list to warn me about, kid.”

Koda let out a long, exhausted sigh. “It’s been a long couple of weeks. Also Yuriko is dating a Futurist from Otawara now.”

Satoru’s sigh was equally exhausted. “You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not. Eishi. It’s apparently under Katsumasa up there, which means that Haruko’s taking personal offense to this mess.”

“Then where’s Haruko?” Satoru inquired, raising an eyebrow. “Usually you two are attached at the hip. Or...I guess the arm, more technically.”

“Partying on Ravnica,” Koda said, as if the idea of a minor god partying on another plane was normal. “We’re trying to do better about the whole...codependence thing.”

Satoru made a non-committal hum and took another moment to assess Vasro. “So...what’s your deal, exactly?” he finally asked. “You’ve mentioned a boss you play psychological warfare chess with, you can control Omenpaths, and you’ve been helping Koda. Why?”

Vasro shrugged. “Koda’s chill and I like helping people. I also like information. Eventually I’ll know everything and become a god. Pretty simple.”

Satoru took a sip of still-too-hot coffee to mask himself frantically trying to figure out what the hell any of that had to do with each other. Once he was done, all he said was “Okay.” He briefly wondered if New Capenna had ADHD diagnoses. Or if this was just how all planeswalkers were.

“Point being,” Koda said, “I need as much information as you can get about oni cults – modern or historical – in the Sokenzan mountains, particularly any oni that have multiple mouths and something to do with blood. I’ve already got people investigating the akki warrens to see if they find anything.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down much,” Satoru mused. “...Eh, what the hell, sure. Not like there’s been a lot for me to do as of late. Not as many borrowers and not as many operations since...” He trailed off, trying not to think about the hardest loss the Hyozans had experienced during the Phyrexian invasion.

“I know,” Koda said, because of course he already knew. “I appreciate this, Satoru. More than you know.” He set his empty mug in the sink and turned back to Vasro. “Back to Torrezon?”

Vasro set his own coffee aside, practically untouched. “Back to Torrezon. Meet you there.” He vanished from sight immediately. Koda offered Satoru a nod before vanishing into the shadows himself, as though he were a ghost.

Satoru stood alone in the breakroom for a few moments, then sighed. “I’m going to go grey early if I keep putting up with that kid.” He ran some water into his own empty mug, turned off the coffee machine so it wouldn’t burn the building down, then headed back towards his office. He was relieved to see that the car was gone and that the infirmary sounded busy.

He sat heavily in his chair and took a deep breath, then grabbed his datapad and opened an encoded chat. Nari, let me know when you have a minute. There’s something important that we need to look into.

[honourablejester]

Science Fiction Spaceships That Rewrote My Brain

While I’m in science fiction land for a while, I thought I’d have a look at a pair of spaceships that really blew my tiny childhood mind as a kid.

The Valley Forge, Silent Running (1972)

Silent Running was an environmentalist science fiction movie from the 70s that I watched on late night TV one night as a kid, and it mildly traumatised me, but also fascinated me. The concept of the movie is that plant life on Earth is dying, so a fleet of cargo hauler ships are used to carry biodomes of salvaged trees and plants into orbit around Saturn to wait out the reconstruction of the environment at home. The plot is kicked off when an order comes through from the company to ditch and destroy the biodomes so the fleet can get back to commercial hauling and making money, and one scientist aboard the Valley Forge decides fuck that and goes full ecoterrorist in an attempt to preserve at least one of the six biodomes on his ship.

Your mileage may vary on the plot, and the three robots and their fates may traumatise you, but I just want to talk about the Valley Forge and her sister ships themselves for a moment. Because the idea of a spaceship whose sole purpose is to carry biomes into space blew my mind. I’d seen gardens on spaceships before, luxury spaces and recreational spaces, because people need greenery to feel right, but the thought of a whole ship whose purpose was to carry and preserve plants was massive.

And, of course, the thing with Valley Forge is that she’s not designed to carry plants. She’s designed to haul cargo. She’s a skeletal spaceship designed to be an engine strapped to some struts to attach modular cargo pods to. She’s lean and barebones and brutal in her way. But she was refitted to carry hope, to carry beautiful geodesic domes full of salvaged plantlife and the last remnants of a living planet, to hold them and keep them safe until they could be returned planetside. And that purpose was then betrayed for profit, and she’s hijacked to be the battleground between science and commercialism, and also to be the battleground between the fragile ecosystems she carries and the harsh and lethal environment of space around her.

She just. She made such an impact. Colony ships and generation ships and ships designed to carry the last remnants of humanity are something I’ve seen much more frequently, but not a ship designed to carry Earth. The biomes and plantlife of Earth. To salvage not just the people but the environment, or something of the environment, of our lonely blue ball of a world.

So. All respect to the lean, brutal, commercial skeleton of a ship who carried the last remnant of a dying world in full defiance of her intended purpose.

The Cygnus, The Black Hole (1979)

Back when live action Disney movies got surprisingly dark and twisted. Heh. The Black Hole is a really creepy-cool science fiction movie in which the crew of the space exploration vessel USS Palomino stumble across what appears to be the derelict remnants of the USS Cygnus, a vessel that went missing 20 years ago, in orbit around a black hole. Forced to dock with her after suffering damage, they encounter the supposedly sole survivor of her crew, the scientist Dr Hans Reinhardt, and slowly realise that something extremely fucked up is happening aboard this ship.

Have you ever watched Event Horizon (1997)? Because the Event Horizon owes everything to the USS Cygnus. She is one of the early pioneers of sci-fi horror vessels over here. But the main thing about her, for me, was her aesthetic. Because the USS Cygnus is a frankly stunning looking ship, and she’s focused on so lovingly. There is an absolutely spectacular fly-by sequence where the Palomino first discovers the ‘derelict’ ship, focusing lights on her and flying beneath her structure like a submarine examining a submerged wreck, the starfield lonely and beautiful and deadly behind her, and then as the smaller ship crests over her, she lights up beneath them, abruptly not as derelict as she appears, and it’s the most spectacular moment. I got chills.

She is such a spectacularly beautiful and spectacularly creepy ship. Is her design even remotely practical? Absolutely not. She looks like an evil Christmas ornament or a gothic cathedral, all sparkling glass and dark, delicate metal buttresses. She’s so evil and so impractical. She’s orbiting a black hole, the impossibility of which is a plot point, and she’s orbiting a black hole on purpose, because some really fucked up things are happening on this lovely and oh-so-sinister ship. Seriously, the Event Horizon owes her everything. Her spiritual descendent ship. She’s so beautiful. And so spectacularly fucked up. But it makes for such stunning imagery.

If anyone has ever wondered why I’m so fucking fond of space horror. I’d like you to meet my lady. Heh.

[haropro-confessions]

I don't think Riho left because of the so-called...pressure of being the ace. She's been misquoted so many times. She’s publicly listed three reasons: wanting to grow up and experience life outside H!P, the expectations the FANS had of her image, and that she disagreed with what the group should be focusing on.

While she was in the group, she mentioned multiple times in blog posts and Hello! Q&As that she wanted to dye her hair lighter. But her fans would always respond that she'd ruin her pure image, which was clearly frustrating for her 😕. Her case of just needing to step away because of fan expectations reminds me a lot of Shimabukuro Hiroko. Back in 1999 Hiroko was massive at 15. Smashed sales records with her group, her solo song sold nearly a million copies, anything she and her group touched turned to gold. But her fans were extremely strict about how she looked, especially because she had that baby-faced, girl-next-door vibe. No dyed hair, no mature styles, no excessive jewelry, short girl next door hairstyle like H!P idols even though her own groupmates were experimenting by bleaching their hair, getting piercings, dressing mature, etc. So at 16, she pulled the plug and took a six month break from the industry. Six months in 2000 was a LONG time because the industry completely moved at such a pace that if you were gone, people moved on immediately. She went to New York to study dance and when she returned to the industry, the first thing she did was dye her hair blonde and dress maturely. A lot of her fans quit supporting her because of this and the fact that she took a break. They moved onto Morning Musume who was huge at the time but she wanted to become a respected artist, so that fanbase wasn't for her anymore.

Besides the expectations idol fans put on her, Riho did interviews six years ago that one of the biggest reasons she left was because she had really high standards when it came to performance and realized that those expectations didn't match with a group that kept bringing in members with little training. She thought the group should be spending more time in dance training, but they were idols so the little time they had not touring was being on TV or doing handshake events which she thought would've been better served practicing their skills. But idols always have their time split and trying to focus 100% on performance isn’t what idols do, they just have too much on their plate.

So no, Riho's experience doesn't mean "MM should never have an ace again." That's absolutely idiotic and blaming her yet again and letting her be a scapegoat for UFA's laziness and refusal to invest in a star. There are definitely girls out there who want that role and could crush it. It’s just that Riho’s dreams align more with being an artist than an idol. And Riho wasn't such a failed experiment that an ace should never be in the group either, she brought in a new generation of fans and gave the group five solid years. She had a lot of English speaking haters but Japanese wota loved her until her heart wasn’t in it anymore. It's just that she wasn't a long hauler which is perfectly fair, her dreams were too big to be limited to being an idol.

[constructiconweek]

Ok happy February! I’m go ahead and post the words I’ve selected for Constructicon week 2024 with a nice preview header and the official list with the days and I'll post the AO3 collect closer to the date :

Day 1 Feb 18th Scrapper : Wood

Day 2 Feb 19th Long Haul : Paper

Day 3 Feb 20th Scavenger : Sand

Day 4 Feb 21st Hook : Glass

Day 5 Feb 22nd Bonecrusher : Concrete

Day 6 Feb 23rd Mixmaster : Fabric

Day 7 Feb 24th Devastator : Free Day : (Prowl/Gravedigger/Hauler/Omega Supreme/Dirt Boss and others can be included here just had to be Constructicon related.)

(The different universes (G1, IDW one and two, TFA, Armanda and others can appeal to any day just tag it when we get there!

more under cut

And I’ll add here given that these are building materials and want to build stuff and do other projects with them, like wood burning or sand art for explain, (be careful) but cool! We’d love to see it when the time rolls around! I’m hoping posting this early gives people (like me) more time for writing, drawing, and all art!

Again the days are February 18th - Feb 24th 2024 (Engineering Week in the US) contact me admin @fireyhotsupertalia if you have any question!

--

Each day has two prompts the first is the Constructicon and the second  is the word, feel free to use both in Conjunction or if you want you can  use just one for example you feel like just drawing Mixmaster go for it  post Friday, feel like writing about the who group and Formula go for it post Monday. Get delayed and can’t post on the correct day no problem I’m sure everyone will love to still get the content so don’t worry too much. It’s about fun and adding more to the community.

You can feel free to @ me here or submit things if you’d like I’ll reblog all I can!

Admin for this blog and event are @fireyhotsupertalia​

[just-jae]

Eddie's crisis

Okay, imma put this out there.

Spoil Mc Noil

My interpretation of Eddie's meltdown was that he was so used to working so hard that the moment he sat down to relax and have fun he had a nervous breakdown. Even before Eddie left the office he was irritable about having no work to do- something that apparently wasn't planned, because normally the neighbors have Eddie deliver all the presents.

This is also hinted to by Frank's comment that he works too hard and Eddie's promotional toy being called "stretched thin Eddie".

Another thing I noted was the fact that the playfellow exhibition apparently found that several characters mostly stay in their buildings. Poppy's never seen outside of the barn, I think Howdy' also rarely outside of the shop. There could be this implication that, out side of scheduled or planned events like the Halloween event, the neighbors don't know how to function outside of their given roles.

Eddie basically broke script when he went to the party and it was like breaking reality itself.

Like how his relationship with Frank probably also breaks the script.

That's how I saw it anyway.

I don't know why people seem to think Eddie's only character trait is talking a lot. Its not even something unique to him. Howdy doesn't shut up when it comes to products, Sally becomes passionate about anything acting related. Julie's like if skittles could talk, and Frank's gotten a bit chatty too about his garden and what-not.

I think Howdy's comment about Eddie talking too much has more to do with the fact that he's not supposed to talk so much. He's the heavy hauler, the hardworker, the mailman, and it seems like not too many neighbors really see him or notice him as a personality. He's just the mailman.

I think its also interesting that Eddie's memory loss seems pretty severe and oddly selective. Like, he can't remember his past, and couldn't remember whether he picked up the phone to answer it or to make a call. Its mentioned that he sometimes forgets to deliver a package, but he can apparently remember what artist Sally was dressed as.

Like-- seriously what's going on with this dude? I suspect some of gis forgetfulness is self-fullfilling, where he easily doubts himself and back petals as soon as something doesn't match up-- he assumes he must have forgotten something or gottensomething wrong, and just ends up "forgetting" bc he has no confidence in his own memories.

Also probably some demon magic but that could explain literally anything.

I think the pea on the plate was meant to represent Eddie. Bc in the dish's description it says not to let any other peas get too close to it. And Frank was wearing a pea-colored shirt. Eddie's sitting on the loveseat, alone, no one else is even visible, and no one comes to talk to him. So it could very well be a message that Eddie's experiance in the neighborhood is a relatively isolated one. Except when it comes to Frank, which isn't supposed to happen.

This could just be a matter of the shows writing, but could also be something special to Eddie, who"s mysterious origin could have something to do with why he's singled out.

[trivialbob]

My city has a biennial "Curbside Cleanup" event in April. People can set out large items for a special trash collection. We put things out starting on a Thursday. They are collected by trash haulers on Saturday.

In the days leading up to the collection people ("scavengers" we call them) drive slowly through the neighborhoods looking for scap metal or items that are perfectly usable. It's kind of fun to watch the procession of beat up pickup trucks, U-haul trailers, and small cars with stuff tied to the roof.

Sheila and I sometimes host a watch party in the driveway. This year her brother grilled his Billy Burgers (amazing smash burgers) for all of us while we drank beer and waived at the drivers.

This year I got rid of an office chair, a couch, an ottoman, a usable vacuum cleaner (I left a sign on it stating that it worked), and a broken carpet shampooer. All but the couch were taken by people before the city came by on Saturday.

One year I put out a different couch and ended up helping a guy load it into his van. He didn't look poor. I asked what he was going to do with the couch. Perhaps it would go in the basement for the kids to use while gaming and eating chips?

"I own some rental properties. I like finding usable furniture to put in them." I got rid of something I'd replaced with a new couch, he got a couch for free. Nice how that works out because the couch didn't (yet) make it to the landfill.

Something inevitably seen on every block are office chairs set of for collection. Two years ago I put one out at the curb. Two years before that was another one. This year my current chair's "leather" was cracked. The latch or gear that can be set to not allow rocking or reclining sometimes worked. More than once I'd lean back and exclaim "oh shit" as I fell backwards. My neck and shoulders were starting to hurt when I worked.

That's no way to live.

This afternoon I went to a business that sells professional office furniture. The showroom is open to the public. A guy asked me some questions about how I sit, where I keep my keyboard, and so on.

He showed me two not inexpensive chairs. I loved the first one I sat in. I did try the other one. Then he said I could look around the used furniture showroom. I saw some decent, heavy-duty chairs there, but that first one I sat in, the new one, was perfect for me so that's what I bought. It will pay for itself because I won't be buying Target/Costco/Staples office chairs every other year.

My desk right now is from Ikea. It's held up okay, maybe 6/10 in how much I like it. New desks at today's store were very sturdy and high quality.

And expensive.

But I saw some used desks that had a few dings or scratches that cost lest than my Ikea desk. They looked like they'd last a lifetime. I wish I'd shopped here earlier.

[lilulicious]

Coe-Pilot: The Space Between Us

Chapter 5 (Part 2): Cowboys! Why'd There Have to Be Cowboys?

(Author's note: I am in the process of posting this Starfield fan fiction to AO3, but I will need to go back and edit some of the past posts to ensure the in-game quotes are more paraphrased so as not to cross any plagiarism lines. I've tried to write this chapter with that notion in mind, so you'll see that the quotes now don't exactly match up with the screenshots, which is intentional. The screenshots are here to give some visual reference to those who haven't played Starfield or perhaps not as in-depth. But I thought I'd clarify the mismatches as I continue to learn and grow in this process of writing my first ever fan-fic! Thanks for reading!)

Before THEN:

Scottsdale, AZ, United States, Old Earth, February 2024. The Scottsdale Arabian Horse Show, "The Greatest Horse Show on Earth" at WestWorld showgrounds, featuring 10 full days of competition for the best Arabian horses from around the globe, including professional and amateur competitors in all disciplines. Although Scarce River Equine typically trained race, jumping, eventing, and dressage horses, occasional clients with the "pretty horses" in those disciplines wanted hardcore performance horse trainers to perfect their steeds and/or help their darling children come home with blue ribbons, championships, and trophies at their breed-specific shows. In fact, it turns out parents can buy their children's love, especially when it has four hooves, a cute pink muzzle to kiss, and it does well in the show ring.

Lilu had proven her mettle around Scarce River, first helping with grooming and groundwork. Then due to her father Robert McLovin's recommendation, her equestrian C.V. (because her military and clandestine resume here was irrelevant and kind of scary), and some videos of some past rides, she started jogging young and convalescing horses down the shedrows and on the short bridle path meant for controlled exercise. When it became clear that she was talented, they started to test her on lower-level dressage mounts and hunter-jumpers and were pleased with the results. She was, sadly, too heavy to make weight as an apprentice jockey or even to breeze horses in workouts. Her height and the soft curves that belied her muscular fitness beneath them had her over 160lbs, easy. She looked good, but she wasn't going to be on a racer anymore. Lilu was more fit for other performance equestrian disciplines, at which she excelled.

So, her first big assignment: go with a small contingent of hauler, groom, and herself to the Scottsdale show to work with a junior amateur-owner-to-ride and her Arabian dressage mount, coach the girl through riding in her division, then she herself ride the horse as the "professional" trainer representing Scarce River to try to score a ribbon there, too. And hopefully come home with a modicum of success. In short, Scarce River was not going to send their big dressage trainer for this one, Lilu was good enough for a 14-year-old girl who was an ok rider on a horse that wasn't a fancy European Warmblood and not necessarily expected to hit the top 3 placings, let alone even the famous Scottsdale Top 10.

Lilu didn't let that kid down despite the rather academic dismissal of her chances. She asked for four extra days' stall rental at the WestWorld showgrounds, and the girl's family had the money and time to pay for it and come in early. Sending the van ahead with the groom and horse for the 21-hour drive, she flew in to Phoenix to meet the girl's family and they went to Scottsdale together to get settled in. They went from the hotel and visited the ongoing horse show while the girl's horse arrived, got bedded down into his stall, and relaxed a full day from his long journey. Then Lilu worked with the girl those few extra days at WestWorld so both the kid and the horse were comfortable with each other in the bustling environment of the enormous show, which had vendor booths, camel and elephant rides, various demonstrations... in short, plenty of distractions that could create a spooky horse and a real wreck.

When show time came, there wasn't a huge fairy-tale ending of a blue ribbon and a trophy, but there were a lot of junior amateur-owners-to-ride in her Level 2 dressage category and the kid had to ride two tests to triumph with that 3rd place ribbon that Lilu's boss had written off. The girl was beaming so brightly that Lilu thought she could be seen from outer space. The horse had a rest day, then Lilu had to ride him in open dressage, Level 2. That was a much tougher division than she anticipated and the horse, though well trained, was physically not capable of ascending to great heights with the additional professional competitors. She scraped through into the open Level 2 championship test and, riding her and her mount's hearts out, barely got the last place in the coveted Scottsdale Top Ten, which she thought wasn't too bad, and the boss back home was happy, as were the clients. They had two sets of ribbons to take home. She told the boss her recommendation was that if the girl wanted to win Level 2 or move up to Level 3, she needed a new horse with the mind and physicality for that level of movement, and this one would be great for a younger kid looking to start out. His Scottsdale show placement would ensure his resale value into a quality, high-care, show home.

And the crew prepared to take the horse back to Scarce River in his Air-Ride van, that boy deserved it. The kid and her family were going to stay in Scottsdale and enjoy the last few days of the show. And Lilu was going to head home a day early, thank god. Her newest home, now with Adam in his little house in Tenino proper. She had dated him about 3 months before he propositioned her to depart her aerie above the shedrow barn and come live with him. He had a dog, a lovely, older chocolate lab with a gray muzzle, and she could get a dog, too, this way, if she wanted. He loved her, he said, and he wanted her to be a permanent part of his life. Sounded great, didn't it?

Except... well, Adam was great when he was happy. Which wasn't as often as one might think, for all the positive things he seemed to have going for him: young, nice looking, smart, good job, owned his house. But he seemed happier before he had her firmly in his clutches. Like she was something he looked forward to discovering each time he came across her. When he was just coming by the barn, his face would light up when he saw her. She almost felt a pang of guilt, like she was doing something to him she shouldn't be. Leading him on? No, she was giving him affection, giving him her body, she just never told him she loved him, too.

But cracks started to show not long after they started having sex. She was not shy about how her body was shaped, she knew she looked good in most conventional respects. She was built for the traditional male gaze. But there were some aspects of her body she liked to keep hidden by clothing or cover of darkness. Less attractive, newly added features that were the results of the trauma she had endured. There was a reason the inpatient PTSD program she went to also treated MST (military sexual trauma). Her scars were more than euphemistically "skin deep", they were literally skin deep. She didn't want to have to explain them and their placement near intimate areas of her body and thus relive how they got there. And the terminus of that discussion would lead to exactly why Adam even had a place at her side when there should have been no vacancy.

One night, not long before she left for Scottsdale, they were engaged in foreplay, he was kissing up the inside of her thigh and he stopped to trace one of those scars with his fingers. For the first time, he decided to ask her, "What happened there, that almost looks like a burn..." but she cut him off and yanked his hand off her inner thigh as if he had burned her again.

"I don't want to talk about it, Adam," Lilu said in a flat tone, and she pushed him away, closing her knees, pulling her t-shirt back down and her panties back up, then pulling the blanket over herself. The desire for sex vacated her body almost as quickly as her soul did.

He slid back up, leaned back a little way from her, his head on his pillow, and stared, frowning. "So, what, we're done now because I touched you the wrong way?" Petulant. Entitled. Wrong conclusion drawn on purpose or genuinely confused? Lilu wasn't sure with him, he could be manipulative to get what he wanted, and he ALWAYS wanted sex with her. When she first got with him, she told him she still had a lot of issues to work through and she wasn't sure she was in the right head space for a committed relationship, much less a physical one, but he swore up and down he'd be patient. He was anything but that.

"Adam," Lilu started, but he'd rolled over with a flop and turned his back on her. She didn't bother with continuing; she wasn't going to plead or beg.

Now as she was coming home from Scottsdale, she knew he'd be ready to fly at her with a raging boner. She wished she was excited to see him, but she found she wasn't, partially because of this... anticipation? Dread? She wanted to do more than fuck when she missed seeing someone. A kiss and a cuddle would be nice. She didn't even let him know she was coming back already. As soon as the horse was loaded in the wee hours of the morning, she grabbed a red-eye out of Phoenix-Sky Harbor to Sea-Tac and started the drive home. Adam had told her about his shifts for the week, and she knew he'd be working overnight; she would have some time in the house to herself for the morning. She did want to see the dogs. Yes, now dogs, plural: she had adopted a cute border collie mix, an older spayed female to match the energy level of Adam's old dog. It was soothing to hear the clack-clack of their claws on the wood floors, like a balm for her soul, and have them settle on either side of her on the sofa while she watched old movies and relaxed.

But on the way home, winding through the neighborhoods, she came to an abrupt halt. She saw Adam's Thurston County Sheriff's Deputy's compact SUV parked in the driveway of a house she didn't recognize. She knew the plate and the tiny decal of his favorite Saturday morning cartoon character, that Martian with the helmet, that he hid near the rear wiper blade. It was only 8:00am, and the vehicle was covered in dewy droplets. It hadn't been moved overnight. Next to it was a red Mini Cooper that Lilu recognized as belonging to Candalyn "Candy" Johnson, a blonde, 30-something, 911 dispatcher that she'd heard the other deputies refer to as a "Milf". Except there never seemed to be any kids around her place. So, this was where she lived. Lilu had no reason to take notice until now.

How fucking typical. Lilu felt tears pricking her eyes, but she blinked them back and decided Adam wasn't worth losing the salt. "Motherfucker," was all she said, and she drove on down the street towards home, thinking that she just needed to get back out of there, ASAP. There was a job waiting that her dad had asked if she could do over in Amsterdam for The Company. It was ugly, of a sexual nature, and originally, she had refused because it was the last thing she needed after what she'd been through. Being cheated on changed her mind. When these boys decided to engage in extracurricular activities, it was at their own risk, and this job was not unrelated to that concept. She could call her dad, pack, and be out of Sea-Tac again before Adam knew she'd been there and gone. Her boss's implicit deal with her dad allowed for an occasional absence, that was the beauty of it as far as her father was concerned. Fuck it, why not, no reason to stay here and fight with her "boyfriend". She could deal with that later. But she had one idea for a parting shot. She stopped at the convenience store.

As Lilu McLovin finally departed Adam's little house with her carryon repacked with a different set of "necessaries", petting and kissing the dogs copiously, she left a box of condoms from the convenience store on the kitchen table for Adam with a note telling him to make sure he used them in her absence, she'd be in Europe on assignment, didn't know when she'd be back, don't call. Petty? Sure. But he wasn't leaving her with any presents in the form of STDs, and he was going to get the goddamned point that his extracurricular activities had been made.

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

NOW:

Lilu guided the Frontier to touchdown at the Akila City Spaceport. As she looked out the front window of the ship, she was a bit surprised at what she saw. Unlike the sleek lines and glittering towers of New Atlantis, there were wooden walls and gates. No paved path led forth from the spaceport, but instead it was packed clay, mud, and puddles. It looked like an Old Earth, Old West, fort town. People were bundled up in leathers and woolen clothing, boots and hats. Some were carrying long rifles. "Jesus Christ," muttered Lilu to herself, "Where the hell am I, a theme park frontier land? If I find that cartoon mouse or fabled frontiersman in a coonskin hat up in this joint, I'm gonna shit myself."

She heard the clanging of a hatch in the rear of the ship and realized that her passenger, Sam Coe, had already left. He didn't say a word to her, so she assumed she was just supposed to meet him outside. Great, this was already going so well, and with Sarah coming along to add tension to the situation, it was bound to be tons of fun. She worried her inward groan was almost audible.

Oh well, it was still better than Argos Extractors... so far. She gathered her gear and still wished she had a better gun, as she looked balefully at the little Beowulf which had served her well but wasn't great if this Akila frontier was supposedly so daunting. Sarah, as if reading her mind, said, "You know, if you're looking for an upgrade, you won't have a better opportunity than right here in Akila City."

"Oh, yes?" Now Lilu perked up, interested at last in what Sarah had to say.

"Yes, Laredo Arms is a really high-quality gun maker, and then Rowland Arms as well, you should be able to find something they either sell or make that's a boost over that Beowulf," explained Sarah.

"Laredo!? Really?" Lilu asked, incredulously, half laughing.

"Yes, what's so odd about that?" asked Sarah, also laughing a little bit at Lilu's sudden mirth but looking puzzled.

"Because this 'city' is right out of a Western movie and Laredo is a place in..." but Lilu trailed off when she realized, seeing Sarah's confusion, she could have been speaking in Japanese and made as little sense. Future Woman had no idea what she was talking about. But then Sarah said what Lilu had long been hoping to hear.

"I think it's going to be just you and Sam for this mission, so I'm going to stay here and review that dossier that was sent over, you know, your files? Especially since you've obviously been wanting me to look it over for a while now," Sarah offered. Lilu felt relieved, although at the back of her mind, a tiny warning light of anxiety started to flash. Hopefully Sarah would view everything through a trained, military eye, not the eyes of a reactionary hysteric. Oh wait, that's what UC SysDef was supposed to be, trained military eyes and they had her pegged at first as a dangerous psychopath, like reactionary hysterics might do. What could go wrong here?

"Oh, that's great, Sarah, thank you." Lilu smiled a genuine smile this time, "I think that'll be really helpful going forward, maybe some things will start to make sense." And with that, she made her way to the back of the ship. She saw Cora, who said, "Hi!", brightly and happily, and then went back to her reading. Lilu smiled and waved and kept walking to the exit hatch. The kid seemed nice enough, she admitted to herself, as she made her way out of the hatch, through the landing bay, and into the Akila City sunlight, where she could see a man waiting in the distance, closer to the city gates. A man in a cowboy hat. Sam Coe.

What can be said about Sam Coe at this stage of his life in Constellation? He was a mirror of Lilu McLovin in so many ways that neither of them quite realized yet. An heir apparent turned crushing disappointment who started to find some level of redemption being a lawman, only to once again disappoint both his family and his professional colleagues by joining Constellation. A man raising a little girl, seemingly on his own, in the face of criticism for putting her in danger and (at least per Sarah) possibly not being up to the task of continuing her education while they went roaming through space on missions of exploration. If nothing else, no one could say that Sam Coe didn't have grit, determination, and courage to stand in the face of outside pressure. If Lilu had known all this going in, her approach might have been different. She might have understood his authoritative, cocksure attitude that already had her hackles up. And he already seemed like he wasn't too fond of her. As it stood, she would never admit to herself, in that moment, despite how little she knew, she was intrigued, nonetheless. He was...something else.

As Lilu strode up to Sam, she knew that she did have a second chance to make a first impression, and the one she wanted to make was that she was just as cocky as Sam, so she walked towards him with a catwalk strut that would have put a model to shame during New York Fashion Week. She was looking him directly in the eye, shoulders back, hips swaying, and stopped before him, feet slightly apart in a confident stance, their gaze almost level. She hoped she sold it better than she felt. She'd caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the many puddles in the dirt track, her hair blazing red in the sunlight, her skin a light brown, like coffee with just enough cream. "Ay, que chulita," her mom would have said. If Sam spoke Spanish, he might have said it, too. She saw how his eyes ran over body, her legs, lingered over her breasts and her mouth before locking onto her gaze. There was a pregnant pause as she waited expectantly for him to say something. She was rewarded more richly than she could have ever hoped.

"Good, you're here," Sam said, and then he more than half leered at her. "So, are you ready? Because it's just going to be you and me, and I'm gonna be riding your ass until we get what we're after."

Lilu stared at him, a smile playing on her lips, thinking, "You can't be serious? What do I say here? 'Promise?' Shit, no, I can't say that, Jesus Christ, ummm," and she continued to stare at him like she had vapor-locked because the possibilities were endless. And the moment to strike had passed.

"Hello? Are you ok?" Sam looked at her, waiting, puzzled.

Had she imagined the look and tone when he said what he said? Surely not. But she didn't want to embarrass herself. The smirk that had been twisting her lips faded. "Act natural," she thought, but out loud all she could manage was, "I understand." Her inner voice groaned, "Smooth," as she rolled her eyes inwardly at herself. Her flirting game was in the basement. Must have been those impure thoughts, they'll get you every damned time.

"Before we go any further," began Sam, "there's something I should tell you. I'm a Coe, as in Solomon Coe is my direct ancestor." And here, he paused and looked at Lilu waiting for some reaction. She just stared at him blankly for a beat or two and shook her head and shrugged slightly for him to go on, because she had no idea who Solomon Coe was. Too late, she saw the sign above the city gate that said, "Akila City, Founded in 2167 by Solomon Coe", thought "Ahhhh," but Sam was already continuing. He must think her to be a complete idiot.

"Solomon was a great man, his accomplishments have gone down in history, but time has a way of building upon legend." finished Sam, emphatically.

Lilu had now recovered, and her sense of sarcasm rose to meet this momentous occasion. "Sooo... Solomon Coe is your ancestor?" she asked Sam. "Your family founded Akila City?"

"Yep," he said, "And the Coes as a family have been riding those coattails for generations."

Now there was no mistaking the mischief in her eyes, the twist of her mouth again into an evilly sweet smile. "Well, now, hold up," she purred, "I may need some time so soak in your celebrity status." Lilu looked like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary. Sam was not amused.

"Alright, alright, smartass. That's why I don't even like talking about it in the first place," he said.

"Oh, I bet you don't," thought Lilu, but she wisely said instead, "So where's our first stop?"

"Well, the place we're looking for is called 'The Empty Nest', it's something of a family legend," and he swiftly looked sidelong at her in case she decided to mock him or the Coes again, but she remained carefully poker-faced. "We have some heirloom maps that might give us an idea where to look. They're locked in one of the family safe deposit boxes at GalBank, so that's our first stop."

"I heard there were a couple of good firearms vendors in Akila City, I could really use an upgrade if we're going to be heading anywhere after that where we may need to defend ourselves. Do you think we could do that before we hit this frontier if it's going to be dangerous?" asked Lilu.

Sam said, unbelievably, infuriatingly, "Don't worry, darlin', I can protect you from anything dangerous that comes our way. When the shooting starts, you just get behind me." His face was serious.

Apparently, the steam that began to rise from Lilu's gut towards her face was a scald risk even from a distance. Sam laughed and said, "I kid, I kid. It looks like you could probably protect me. Sure, I know a couple of places. Let's go." Lilu allowed herself a tight smile, shook her head, chided herself for being sucked in, and walked on with him through the Akila City gates, feeling conflicted, her inner voice chanting mantras: dammit, don't let him be funny, funny is the kiss of death, try to dislike him more.

As they walked up to the security guard at the inner gate, they were stopped abruptly. The guard, a handsome young man with a buzz cut, heavy five-o'clock shadow, and a square jaw, told them there was a robbery gone bad at the GalBank, their GalBank, and the Marshall of the Freestar Rangers said for bypassers to stay away. He suddenly recognized Sam and asked, "Sam Coe, I remember you, glad to see you're back, the Rangers could use your help."

"I'm afraid I'm still out of the Rangering business, Andy, but we'll go see what we can do," said Sam. He turned to Lilu. "We're not going to get into that bank during a hostage situation, we'd better see if there's anything we can do to move things along." He led her towards a cluster of men standing behind barricades. One man was clearly the Marshall. It wasn't just the badge he wore, which bore a resemblance to a weathered one that Sam wore around his neck as a charm of sorts, it was the look of care, of deep thought, of weighing lives in the balance against the decisions he was yet to make. The look of responsibility and the buck stopping with him.

"Well, well, Sam Coe, it's been a long time," said Marshall Daniel Blake, extending his hand to shake Sam's. "Sam, I just wanted you to know, I don't blame you for doing what you did for your own life. But some of the others don't see it the same way. Just be ready."

"Thanks, Marshall. I knew that sooner or later I'd have to face that music, but I did what I had to do for me and for Cora. I'm sorry if the others can't accept it." Sam sounded so final in this, and Lilu wondered what had happened. The way both men talked made it sound like it was something altruistic and she genuinely hoped it to be so. Someone out there had to be making good decisions and not be as fucked up as she was.

"Sam, I'm a little busy here, the Shaw Gang tried to rob this bank, and it went sideways. Now there are hostages, and the Gang says they're going to start shooting them if we don't meet their demands, which there's no way in hell I'm just going to give them a ship and let them fly out of here. So, if you don't mind, we'll have to catch up another day. I have to find a neutral negotiator because they won't talk to any of my Rangers or Akila City Security." Marshall Blake looked haggard and helpless. He had no idea what he was going to do.

Fuck me, thought Lilu. Well, they did have to get inside that GalBank and maybe there was such a thing as karma. Put one foot forward, recruit!

"I can do it," she said, in a flat, bored tone, not betraying her thundering heartbeat and the flash of adrenaline that made her sphincter clench. She hadn't really negotiated a hostage release before. She had, at best, kept a suspect busy on the radio while an entry team set up outside the suspect's door. But at least she'd had some training and a tiny bit of experience.

As Sam and Blake stared at her, the adrenaline got the better of her and she forgot herself for a moment. "I had a couple of hostage negotiation courses at Quantico..." and then she stopped, horrified at what she let slip. Not the fact there was cross training between the CIA and FBI. But the fact that she mentioned a place on Old Earth, a place that had been dead the last several hundred years.

But Blake and Sam were, at least in that moment, oblivious to this. They were surprised that she had any such experience at all, and Sam, who gave her a side-eye that said, "You'd better not be full of shit," went on to say to Blake, "Seems like my friend here just might be able to help you out."

So they sent her to the intercom at the front of the bank, since all other comms in and out had been cut. No other data was going in or out of that bank. Blake told her they had no intentions of meeting the Shaw Gang's demands, but to say anything to get them to surrender. Ah, bargaining in bad faith, surely this would end well.

Lilu pressed the intercom button and right away a voice asked who it was and what they wanted. Lilu said, in her smoothest, kindest, television-commercial voice, "My name is Lilu McLovin, nice to meet you, who am I talking with?"

"Oh, how polite, what a lady. I'm Jed," sneered the voice. He sounded tired, angry, trying to put on a good bluff, but he also sounded scared. Lilu leaned into it.

"Look Jed, I'm gonna play it straight with you. I'm not from Akila City, I'm not from anywhere near here. I know what it's like to be scared and alone and have no one on your side, but here's the god's honest truth: If you come out of there, and don't hurt any of the hostages, the Marshall and the judge will go a lot easier on you. But if you hurt any of them, it's gonna go hard on you. And if you kill any of them, it's gonna get way worse, Jed. I mean BAD."

"Wh-What do you mean?" Jed asked, already cowed. He didn't even think to ask for anything now. The honesty from this sweet-sounding woman had disarmed him.

"Jed, think about it. If the hostages are dead, you simplify things for them. There won't be a judge. There won't be a trial. They're gonna come in there and kill every last one of you. Every last one. And you know what else, Jed?" She asked this last part very softly. She looked back over her shoulder. Sam was about 10 feet away, the Marshall and the others were behind the barricades almost 20 feet away. They wouldn't hear her.

"Yeah, what else?" Jed said, sounding as if he were marshalling his courage.

"I'm gonna help them do it," Lilu whispered. "That's my job, Jed. I'm an assassin. I kill people for a living. I've done it most of my whole life. The last man I killed, I strangled to death with my bare hands. That's what I'm here to do. They brought me here to end you and your gang. Not even your families will be safe. Every last one, GONE," she hissed menacingly. Huh. Maybe she was a murderous psychopath after all.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there," said Jed, loudly. "Let's think this through." Lilu knew the onlookers had to have heard him, but she didn't turn around and she said nothing. The intercom crackled again. "OK, no one has been hurt, you go tell the Marshall we'll come along quietly. We surrender."

"YES!" thought Lilu, but when she turned around, her face was carefully assembled into an expression of bored nonchalance, like she solved hostage crises every other morning before she had coffee.

"You'd make a pretty good Ranger, the way you dealt with that," said Sam, looking at her with new appreciation. "Although, I didn't quite catch what you told him towards the end."

Lilu smiled beatifically at Sam and thought, "Oh honey, that's probably for the best." And she made her way up to Marshall Blake. "It's over, they're coming out. The hostages are safe."

"That's incredible, you really got us out of a tight spot." Blake looked surprised and relieved all at once and then focused on her. He had written her off as some sort of creme puff and only allowed her to try because of Sam's recommendation. He knew Sam, but even then, he was skeptical of this less-than-rugged looking woman, overly-pretty in his estimation (meaning soft), in her skimpy, fancy, off-world clothing. But she had produced phenomenal results, and fast. "I know you're running with Sam so it must be Constellation business, but you sure would be great Freestar Ranger material, if you're ever interested, head on over to The Rock and ask for Emma Wilcox, she handles new recruits."

"Will do, Marshall." Lilu stifled another urge to laugh when she heard "The Rock". Alcatraz? Or no, there was history about the Alamo and the rock quarries in its construction. She saw the building a little further into town in the distance. It bore a passing resemblance to a different stone version of The Alamo. Freestar... Lonestar... Texas. The Freestar Collective symbols of the eagle everywhere... Akila.. Akila was Latin for eagle, or a bastardization of aguila, Spanish for eagle. In point of fact, there were some characteristics of this place that made her feel a little more at home than New Atlantis. The planet's terrain reminded her a bit of the Southwestern United States, Arizona, Utah, New Mexico, and yes, parts of Texas, especially. She didn't mind the dirt and mud; she was used to it working on horse farms or being in active duty military. And it was quieter here. It felt more like a community. She wasn't sure what her future held or what other planets might offer her, but this one, so far, seemed a bit more up her alley. Dare she say she almost felt comfortable here?

Sam interrupted her musing. "Now that this situation is cleared up, we have to get inside that GalBank and get those maps."

"Oh yeah," she said. "Eventful morning." And she jogged up the steps, two at a time.

"Gravity is a bitch here," he said. "Be careful, there is no such thing as a simple fall on this planet." But she continued on the way she was, praying that what now would look like showboating wouldn't bite her in the ass and land her with a broken bone just to pay her back for her hubris.

They found the Coe family safe deposit box empty except for a note to Sam saying the maps were now residing with one Jacob Coe. Sam swore a blue streak. Lilu wondered what this meant and tried to make light of it. Her attempt at humor went over like a lead balloon.

"Oh boy, this is where I walk right into the drama, isn't it?" she asked, jokingly.

"You gonna act like this the whole way?" Sam barked at her, gruffly, but before she could even act surprised, he said, "Dammit, I was hoping not to go to the estate, Cora's gonna be mad if she finds out."

"Why would Cora be mad? Wait, estate, what estate? Talk to me, Sam, I have no idea what's going on here."

"Yeah, well, it's not your business to know," Sam said in a surly voice.

"Asshole," Lilu muttered, sulkily. She was frustrated and a little bit stung. She had just resolved a goddamned hostage crisis where no one got hurt, what else did this guy want from her? Yes, she was a smartass but using humor to keep things light and as a defense mechanism was her specialty. She wanted to just walk away from Sam and let him figure it out. "Fuck this guy," her inner voice said. Well, one of her inner voices, the angry one that liked to tear things up and burn bridges, and she turned away from him as if she no longer possessed free will, as if she really was going to walk away.

"He's my father, alright," blurted Sam, suddenly, as if he realized he was losing... her assistance... her companionship... her... right then and there. "Family affairs weren't anything I wanted to get into."

She stayed still for a moment, took a deep breath, and turned back to him. The way he was looking at her, like a wounded child in search of approval. She knew the feeling. She looked away for a moment into space, decided to slow her roll. It wouldn't cost her anything to relent on this, would it?

"Thanks for opening up to me, Sam," she said, trying to sound sincere, hoping her token of goodwill wasn't squandered.

"Yeah, well, there's no love lost between me and my old man, it's a family tradition," he said. "Shall we?"

"Lead the way, my good man," Lilu prompted, and they were on their way deeper into Akila City, up the steps past the Rock, towards the Coe Estate.

The Coe Estate sat in an area of Akila City known as The Core, it was the oldest part of the city and apparently the founding families had settled there. When Lilu entered the great room of the house, she was struck by how warm and homey it felt for a stone, wood, and steel structure. The older gentleman waiting for them, however, was anything but welcoming.

Jacob Coe was, by anyone's account, a long-time public servant and a heavy hitter in the Freestar Collective government. The spirit of exploration and derring-do had left the Coes a long time ago. Sam was sort of a throwback to the original spirit of Solomon Coe. Not that there was anything wrong with the type of work that Jacob did. People with institutional memory and passion for doing right by the constituents they serve were always vital to a thriving society. Lilu had seen firsthand on Old Earth what happened when self-serving politicians took the reins. In fact, these people of the Settled Systems probably would not be inhabiting these planets now if not for that. Earth might have been saved, perhaps, if politicians cared more about the planet and its occupants rather than the pursuit of filthy lucre.

"Well, look who comes darkening my door again, and bringing some Constellation lackey with him, I bet," growled Jacob at Sam. He then turned to Lilu. "Come to help Sam loot his ancestry?"

Sam immediately spoke up. "You know why I'm here."

"Yes, I do know, and you're not getting those maps, period. They belong to the Coe family that you don't seem to want to be a part of anymore," said Jacob, twisting the knife a little.

"I won't ask a second time," said Sam, his hand on his belt, leaning towards Jacob menacingly. Jesus, thought Lilu, he wouldn't actually attack his father, would he?

"When did you even ASK once?" Jacob's voice rose and he was turning red. Lilu decided maybe it was time to say something.

"Constellation just wants to follow up on Solomon's work," she offered. But Jacob turned his fury onto her. She allowed its blast to wash over her. This was more than rage, it was hurt that was pouring out of the man.

"You really believe that? Let me set you straight. There's only one place a Coe should be, and it's not out there putting his life at risk. Nothing is more important than our family, and if Sam would come to his senses, he'd realize that and you? You wouldn't be here!" Jacob yelled at her. She said nothing, she just looked at him, into his blue eyes, Sam's eyes. But she saw something else there, too. She missed her horrible father, and it was almost like staring him in the face. Ice cold anger and disapproval. She felt the innate desire to turn that around and remembered it wasn't her dad, and it wasn't her place. Stifle it, soldier.

"OK, that's enough!" Sam said forcefully to Jacob, startling Lilu out of the spell that had fallen over her for a moment. To Lilu he said, "Let's talk for a minute." He took her by the elbow and guided her to one side of the great room.

"I hope you don't stay long, Sam," said Jacob with an audible "harumph". And he made off into an alcove and stood, back against the wall, arms crossed, glowering at them.

"You ok?" Lilu queried Sam, softly. "You want to talk about all this?"

"No, because this is how it goes almost every time. But we have to figure out how we're going to get those maps from him." Sam seemed at a loss, defeated. It was clear that Jacob Coe had his measure. Lilu totally understood this. She thought about how her own father could reduce her to a mere speck.

"Let me talk to him," she said. "I have experience in the 'bad dad' arts." Sam hesitated, but before he could object, she continued, "Trust me, it's a family tradition for me, too."

Sam looked both confused and skeptical. "You sure? I have more than 30 years of arguing with the man, basically since I could form a coherent sentence, but if you want to try it..." He trailed off, his lack of confidence apparent.

Wordlessly, Lilu turned and walked up to Jacob, her eyes appropriately and respectfully downcast, and then she said, "I meant what I said about just wanting to follow up on Solomon's work, don't you want to help Sam?" Then she flashed her big brown eyes up at Jacob, appealingly.

Jacob gave her a hard look, but Lilu's close proximity and innocent gaze took hold, and he softened ever so slightly. "You think I don't want to help him?" His tone carried more of a wounded tone now than just an angry one.

"I know you do," she said, soothingly. "Sam said something about you being part of the Freestar government? My father was a government man, too. It's an honorable profession, serving the people. What was your role?" Paydirt: she saw the spark light in Jacob's eyes.

"Yes, I was, I handled a lot of trade and commerce. You know, back in my day, we handled some major crises. The Colony War almost destroyed our economy. We thought we were going to crater more than once. I felt like I was going to have a nervous breakdown. It was one of the best times of my life." Jacob smiled, reminiscing.

Lilu smiled, too. "Folks underestimate the pressure of a job like that, the highs and the lows. You're quite a character, Jacob. You remind me so much of my father, he would have felt the same way, you two would have liked each other."

"Could be you're not too bad yourself, but... is he no longer with you?" Jacob asked, looking at her with sympathy.

"He passed away a long time ago, I miss him. Maybe if I come back through Akila City I can visit again sometime?" she asked, with a wistful tone. She almost felt as if she meant it. Maybe she did.

Jacob looked at her with an expression that bordered on fondness. "Sure. And listen, about before... you can have the maps, they're in the other room, here's the key. You seem like a nice girl, respectful, maybe you'll be a good influence on my Sam, huh?"

"I'll do my best," she said, warmly, and with that, Lilu gave him a winsome smile, reached out and clasped Jacob on the forearm to give it a squeeze. He smiled back at her and walked away on into his study to sit down. When she turned to look at Sam, he stared at her like he was in shock.

"How the hell did you do that?" he asked, incredulously.

"I hypnotized him," she said, nonchalantly, the smile still playing on her lips, but her mind far away with the thoughts of her own father. She unlocked the storage room that held the maps. Sam shook his head, mind still boggled, and followed her inside.

"Seriously, though, what did you say to make him change his mind? He can be stubborn as a mule," Sam persisted.

"I told him I'd bear him another grandchild," she said, quite neutrally.

Now Sam really was staring at her, stunned.

"Oh, spare me, you're actually thinking about it?" Lilu exclaimed, laughing.

"I mean," and here he dropped his voice, "I wouldn't mind the trying," he leered.

"Calm down and keep it in your pants, bub, you've got enough to handle with the child you have. Now, let's look at these maps." And both of them smiling with the joke, they stood close and bent their heads over the maps to get their bearings.

But there was something in that exchange, something in the way he moved closer to her, the way their eyes met for just a heartbeat or two, Lilu felt something shift. It had always been there, in the background, a low susurration of attraction that was starting to bubble to a simmer now. She knew by how much she wanted to dislike him the moment she met him. After what had happened to her during that fateful mission where she screwed up, and the big mistake in letting Adam into her life so intimately far too soon for someone so inappropriate for her, she had been determined to not rush in once again to find comfort in just any man's arms simply because he wanted her and he was attractive.

This was already moving fast enough to be similar. Far too fast. And she was afraid of it already. But there were some key differences, about Sam at least, if not herself. He was older, more confident (at least outwardly, with the exception of dealing with his father, which she understood), he was funny, and he was... well, to her, he was gorgeous. She had never been a sucker for a pretty boy, but those eyes of his held her captivated. The lines of his perfect cheek bones, his classic jawline, the short beard she wanted to rub her cheek against, the thick hair she wanted to bury her fingers into. She felt a compulsion to put her hands on his face, pull it close to hers so she could get lost in those beautiful blue eyes before she...

"Hey, you ok?" asked Sam.

"Oh." Lilu snapped out of her fantasy, realized she was staring right at him. She wondered how her own facial features had been composed while she had been fantasizing about sticking her tongue down his throat. Wouldn't he be surprised if he only knew? Instead, she said, "Yeah, I was just thinking again about how I really need to stop and look for a firearm upgrade before we leave the city for any place too wild and woolly. Remember?" Yeah, sure, that's what she was thinking about. Guns. Uh huh.

"Well, you couldn't be more right, because according to this map, we're heading right back out into Shaw Gang territory," Sam said, grimly. His face implied that he wasn't confident about their chances. Well, that's because he hadn't been out on a mission with her before. She couldn't wait to show him what she could do. Then as she caught herself thinking these thoughts, she dealt herself with a swift rebuke. Showboating to impress a boy could get them both killed.

"Damn, there are more of these idiots out there? Well, let's go get that firepower I've been asking for and our Artifact! And, don't worry, darlin', when the shooting starts, just get behind me, I'll keep you safe." Lilu flashed a wolfish grin at Sam as she used his earlier joke against him. But in reality, she hoped she sounded more confident than she felt as they turned to leave the Coe Estate. She called out, "Thanks again, Mr. Coe!" She didn't wait for a response, and went through the door with Sam, back into Akila City and on their way to Laredo Arms. Because it was time to head out to the Akila frontier and find the Empty Nest, and whatever lay within it.

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

Chapter 5 (Part 2) Song:

It's just a little bit warmer Than you're used to up above It's just a little bit harder To control the one you love It's just a little more danger And the slightest remark It goes a little bit deeper And gets a little more dark

[wolfspaw]

[liminalweirdo]

Save the date for Breathing for Justice, a special event presented by Jacqueline E. Luciano and Sarah Kim-Williams, in collaboration with Jennifer Brier, PhD from the University of Illinois Chicago / History Moves and Strategies for High Impact / Long COVID Justice. Breathing for Justice features @/LongCOVIDJustice staff, program participants, and collaborators along with other amazing presenters. We’ll explore how the intersections of Long COVID and disability justice affect individuals and communities, with a focus on inclusive health research & public history. The day will feature thought-provoking presentations, panel discussions, & community-driven conversations. EVENT DETAILS ✧ WEDS 4/23, a two-part webinar from 10:00 AM to 12:30 PM CT and 1:30 PM to 3:30 pm CT ✧ Learn more & register: tiny.cc/Breathing4Justice ✧ Detailed schedule is shared in slides & comments (schedule is subject to minor changes - get updates at tiny.cc/b4j-info)

WHO SHOULD ATTEND: This webinar is for the public, including the disabled & chronically ill communities, higher ed students, staff, faculty, long-haulers seeking understanding & support, healthcare professionals, researchers, mental health professionals, families, caregivers, public health officials, advocates, educators, & policymakers. The event will also be valuable for anyone interested in understanding the long-term impacts of infection & exposure-related chronic conditions, disabilities, & ongoing research.

ACCESS NOTES: • Presentations in spoken English • ASL (American Sign Language) & Live Captioning (CART) • Audio description of visual materials • Format: presentations, with opportunities for Q&A and discussions • You’re welcome to join for the full webinar or any part of it • Participation in chat or Q&A is optional. Having video on is encouraged, but not required • Webinar recording will be emailed to all registrants and shared online & on social media SPONSORS • This program is made possible in part by grants from Illinois Humanities and American Association of People with Disabilities (AAPD)

[quiet-admirer]

When I'm writing long-hauler stories I like to put in secret little unspoken, unexplained character preferences or speech patterns, such as the character never uses religiously-based exclamations like 'oh my god', or doesn't give blowjobs, or only uses someone's nickname when they're in a very affectionate mood, or doesn't like any condiments - things like that. It helps keep me on my toes.

It's like the difference between driving a long, dark, unremarkable highway at night vs a road with a lot of potholes or blind curves - I have to pay attention more, and it reminds me to be intentional about characterization.

It's also just fun to come up with each character's quirks, and can make scenes feel more grounded in reality when I realize I have to build a situation or conversation around a quirk instead of just writing whatever the first fantasy that comes to my head is. The character isn't just a blank paper doll I'm dropping into my narrative anymore, and it can make things really interesting and stimulating from a writing perspective when I come up with a scenario, plug the characters in, and realize there's this butterfly effect and that tiny quirk means this idea I had for a logical flow of events suddenly has to bend around the the way the character would actually act in that situation.

[radioactive-metal]

Events over the Years pt.2

Hope for the future: the construction of the Zero:

The Zero was a one off gunboat project produced by Aurora Labs circa 2372. Originally specced as a Longbow Replacement, cost overruns, availability issues, and incompatibility with older legion equipment caused plans for mass production to be scrapped. However, Legion high command saw use for an unknown, unmarked, and highly advanced vessel and ordered it to be retrofitted with the finest weapons, armor, and concealment the legion could spare. The other major modification was the encasing of the high tech and sleek armored hull in a shell designed to look like a rust bucket to visual, LADAR, Radar, IR, and sonic imaging systems. This offered unprecedented deep strike and covert operations potential. It is at this point, circa roughly 2377, that the Zero is loaded into a civilian hauler, and disappears. Where is went is unknown, but the next sighting comes in 2379, when it is moored at slot 9[a] on emerald city.

After being left with the Free syldrathi for a short while, she was returned to legion hands, and reissued to Squad 312 as their designated vessel. As the Squad was not on missions at this point, she was taken to site-00 and given the full Longbow MK.4 equipment package, including updated plasma drives, experimental pulse cannons, and nanotechnology based auto repair systems. She saw service again circa 2382, during the Unbroken war of succession, where a Templar, claiming to be an illegitimate son of the Star Slayer, rose up and rallied the more conservative aspects of the Unbroken against the Legion aligned forces under the command of Saedii Gilwreath. During this war, utilizing stealth and hit and run tactics, Squad 312 led special task force 021 on a guerrilla campaign through enemy territory, ending the war with the successful kidnapping of the illegitimate claimant to the throne.

As of 2387, all squad 312 members have been rotated from active duty and currently work in various roles across the legion. The Zero is currently under refit at site-00 for installation of a prototype wormhole drive, scheduled to be tested with crew by 2390.

[aloe-vera-7]

Lost to the Cycle: Chapter 2

<- Chapter 1

I finished this a while ago, but I wanted to finish more of chapter 3's draft before releasing it

CW: Violence, blood, insect death, swearing

The room is dark and the air feels moist, on the opposite side of the room is a large deadlock shutter, and an open one before it. In the middle of the two shutters is a grate each at the top and bottom of the chamber, and a bright, white hologram in the middle, displaying a circle with a symbol in it, and a glyph underneath.

Gatherer is a little intimidated by the structure and backs away a bit. Tutelar walks into the structure and stands below the hologram, and so does Warrior, and the others, including Witness, until all of the group is in the confines of the structure, except for Gatherer. Gatherer slowly strides towards the group, frantically looking around with their ears flat against their head. 

The structure suddenly starts whirring; Gatherer jumps and runs into the structure with the rest of the group. The deadlock shutter starts closing behind Gatherer with loud scrapes and clanks, turning and locking the gate shut.

There’s a moment of silence, broken by Warrior stating “Scrap, get your ass outta my face.”, with Scrapper responding “Ah sorry, my bad.” as they move forward slightly.

There’s another moment of silence before Witness bursts out laughing

“IT’S NOT FUNNY!” Warrior yells

Witness wipes a tear from their eye, “Ah, sorry sorry.”

Seeing the other slugcats messing around eases Gatherer a little bit.

Suddenly, a coil, underneath the grate that the group is standing on top of, heats up until it is red hot. A flow of water comes out of the grate above them, trickles down and hits the coil, creating steam which rises and fills the chamber before exiting out the top. Another moment of silence before the shutter on the other side whirrs and does the same sequence, but in reverse, leaving an open path for the group to walk through.

The group walk out of the chamber and continue on their expedition. Gatherer is a bit bewildered by that whole event, but quickly regains themself and follows the group again.

One by one, the group climbs into the small transfer pipe on the other side of the room. Tutelar, then Scrapper, followed by Warrior and Witness, and then Gatherer. Gatherer crawls and climbs into the small transfer pipe, shooting out the other end, tripping and tumbling down onto the damp floor, dirt getting all over their fur. Hauler pops out of the pipe not soon after, they struggle a bit due to their size, but eventually get out.

Warrior looks back and discovers Gatherer in the mud, cracking a harsh laugh and pointing at them. Witness stares down at Gatherer, a wave of pity washes over them as they watch Gatherer feebly lift themself back up, tears forming in their eyes and a soft whimper escaping their mouth.

Hauler sighs, noticing Witness hesitating to help Gatherer, opting to do it themself. They kneel down next to Gatherer, taking their shoulder in their paw, “Hey, Gatherer. Look, I know Warrior’s a bit of an asshole, but yuh’re strong, I know ya are!”

Tutelar nudges Warrior’s shoulder, giving them a stern look of disapproval. Warrior groans and turns back around, walking away from Gatherer, “Fine, let’s get on with this expedition.” Tutelar nods as they continue walking. Scrapper notices the two leaving, hopping into a jog to catch up with them.

Witness looks at the group leaving, then back at Hauler and Gatherer, to which Hauler returns a look and nods for them to go on without them. Witness sighs and reluctantly follows the group.

Hauler looks back down at Gatherer, “Don’t let ‘em get to ya, that’s what they want, a reaction.” They continue as they ruffle Gatherer’s hair, “Ya don’t deserve to be treated like this, yuh’re a good kid.”

Gatherer looks up at Hauler as they speak, staring back down at the ground once they finish, showing a look of defeat. Hauler notices Gatherer’s face and lightens their mood, “Listen, I’m here for ya. It’s okay to feel these things, ya don’t have to act like a tough guy. If ya ever feel down, fed up, lost, come to me, we can talk it out.”

Gatherer gazes up at Hauler, it looks like they’re about to burst into tears. They slowly whisper out, “T-thank you...” Hauler pats their shoulder, “Now, c’mon. Let’s get ya cleaned up.” They add, leading Gatherer off to the side.

Gatherer watches as Hauler digs through their bag, pulling out a rag and a canteen of water. “Here” Hauler suggested, pouring a puddle of water onto the rag, rubbing it in and handing it to Gatherer, “Wash ya face with this.” Gatherer takes the damp rag and rubs it over their face, making sure to get as much dirt out as they could.

While they’re at it, Hauler takes a swig from their canteen before screwing the lid back on. Gatherer looks back up at Hauler, seemingly done washing their face as they hold the rag back up to them. Hauler gives a soft smile, taking the rag and stashing it back in their bag along with the canteen.

Gatherer looks out, seeing the rest of the group gone. They get a pang of worry, only to be interrupted by Hauler holding their paw out to them, “Alright, let’s get back to the group, shall we?” Gatherer nods as they grab Hauler’s paw, walking alongside them towards the transfer pipe at the end of the room.

The two walk in silence for a minute, taking in the surroundings and examining the region. Their paw pads against the cold, damp floor as they walk, the moist walls reflecting, but also muffling the sound of the group up ahead. The faint sound of the wind blowing through the area fills their ears.

HISS

Hauler feels mandibles digging into their back as the loud hiss destroys the silence, yelping as they get knocked to the floor. Gatherer’s heart skips a beat upon seeing a dropwig fly down from the ceiling and onto Hauler’s back.

The dropwig yanks on Hauler’s skin, pulling them back ever so slightly. Hauler grunts with an annoyed tone in their voice as they reach over their back, attempting to grab the dropwig trying to drag them away. Hauler manages to get a hold of one of its antennae and pulls the dropwig off, slamming it on the ground with a loud thud, followed by another loud hiss from the now vulnerable dropwig.

The dropwig writhes, attempting to break free from the slugcat’s grasp, it claws and swipes at the slugcat now pinning it down. Hauler winces and looks around, finding a decently sized rock next to them, which they pick up.

Hauler heaves the rock above their head, and in one swift movement, slamming it down onto the dropwig’s head. The dropwig flails, thrashing its legs as Hauler smashes its head in again and again. Black blood splatters across the floor, some even getting on Hauler’s face.

Hauler hurdles the rock down a final time, harder than all the ones before it. The front of the rock shatters upon contact with the floor. The dropwig corpse twitches a few times before it lays still. Hauler breathes heavily as they stand up off the dropwig corpse.

The sound of footsteps interrupts the scene as Witness comes hurdling in holding a spear, looking distressed. There’s a moment before Witness untenses, seeing Hauler standing above a dead dropwig.

“Y-... You good?” They ask.

Hauler nods, “Yup, I ain’t hurt.” wiping the dropwig’s blood off of their face. They look back at the dropwig corpse.

“The dropwig though...” Hauler adds, “not so much.”

Witness stares at the body before looking back at Hauler, “Is Gatherer okay?” They ask softly.

Hauler looks over to Gatherer, who looks to be unharmed. Hauler replies “Yah, Gabby didn’t get hurt.”

Witness’s shoulders drop as they sigh of relief, “Good, I don’t want them to get hurt.”

The rest of the group come running into the room. Warrior yells “WITNESS! What the hell are you doing!?”

“Well, I heard a scream! What did you think I was doing?” Witness argues back.

“Seemed like you were running off to get yourself killed, that’s what.” Warrior sneers.

“Whatever” Witness says, attempting to dismiss Warrior’s comment. Their face curls into a small frown, their mind caught on Warrior’s snide remark.

Gatherer glances at the dropwig corpse, their ears lower as they speak in a low tone, “gross...”

Witness’s ears catch Gatherer’s comment, they turn to Hauler and ask, “Hey, did you have to smash the dropwig’s head in? Don’t you think that’s a bit... brutal?”

Hauler shrugs, “Ya gotta do what ya gotta do”

Warrior gives a thick laugh, turning to Gatherer with a mischievous grin, “If you think that’s gross, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”

“Warrior! Cut it out, you’re gonna scare them!” Witness yells.

“Oh I sure hope so, wouldn’t want a weakling dragging us down.” Warrior sneers at Gatherer.

Gatherer defends themself, “I-I’m not weak! I can prove it, watch me...” Gatherer looks around and spots a big centipede triple their size, “Watch me kill that centipede all by myself!”

Warrior raises their eyebrows and smirks, “I dunno, seems pretty big, think you can handle it?”

“Of course I can! Watch.” Gatherer pulls out their lucky spear and runs over to the centipede.

Witness’ eyes widen, “Gabby! Wait!”

The centipede scuttles towards Gatherer. Gatherer stops running and aims their spear, but before they could throw it, the centipede grabs onto Gatherer’s fur. Gatherer’s breath catches and they swiftly thrust their spear into the centipede. The centipede flails for a short while, but still holding onto Gatherer’s fur. Gatherer tries to pull away from the centipede, but its grip is strong. The other end of the centipede creeps towards Gatherer’s skin. Gatherer closes their eyes...

KSHCH!

Gatherer feels the centipede’s grip fly off, they slowly open their eyes and find the centipede dead on the ground with a 2nd spear in it. They look back and their eyes widen, realising Witness threw their spear at the centipede.

Witness is heavily breathing and their eyes wide. Witness lets out a big sigh, walking over to Gatherer and ruffling their hair, “You really worry me sometimes.”

Gatherer looks back at the dead centipede and rubs the back of their head, “hehe... s-sorry...”

“You should be extra careful next time we encounter a creature, okay?”

Warrior points behind Witness, “Like that white lizard?”

Witness’s eyes widen when they say this, looking behind them and watching as a white lizard uncamouflages itself, hissing.

“No, I’m done.” Witness calls out as they turn and walk away.

The white lizard pauses, looking bewildered. It shakes its head, looking back at the turquoise slugcat, but by then, they’re already at the other end of the room. It glances over at the pink slugcat, who shrugs, walking over to the turquoise slugcat. The white lizard crosses its eyebrows and blows a raspberry towards the slugcats before trudging back into the darkness.

Warrior looks confused, “Did that lizard just...?”

“Don’t think about it too much.” Hauler scruffs their head before walking in the same direction Gatherer did.