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localsoapdrinker · 6 months ago
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i sincerely apologize for my horrendous drawing of survivor a while ago and to make up for this i have drawn all of them
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my favorite to draw was saint (fluffy little thing) and my least favorite to draw was spearmaster (i had to look them up because i didn't know them by memory and i think they turned out a little awkward in the art)
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tenspontaneite · 1 year ago
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Assembly (Chapter 2/?)
On the back of the superstructure of Seven Red Suns, there lies the great abandoned city of Septkai, awash with twisting spires. Suns has seen it in a hundred thousand videos before, countless images, timeless stretches of voice and music reverberating across every one of their systems. Now, for the first time, they will see it in person. It is bitter to think of.
Once, their city was alive with song and splendour. Now it is only a corpse.
  (Chapter length: 6.6k. Link to ao3 with workskin)
(Inspiration list in endnotes. If you’ve been tagged, your art inspired murals/clothing mentioned in this chapter.)
Warnings: Intense themes of grief, abandonment, regret, and depression. RW-typical suicidality.
---
[LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment
SRS: We’re trying a longer trip tomorrow, to test my legs. And perhaps get a little practical experience.
NSH: Where are you going? Not to the surface, I hope.
SRS: No, I’m not sure I’m ready to risk that yet. I’m going to visit my city.
SRS: …
SRS: I’m not sure how to feel about it, honestly.
NSH: You were always quite fond of your citizens, weren’t you?
SRS: It was hard not to be. They adored me.
 On the back of the superstructure of Seven Red Suns, there lies the great abandoned city of Septkai, awash with twisting spires. The architecture is grand, for all that it was wrought of the same hard-wearing alloys as all Iterator cities; the buildings are arranged in ornate geometric forms, with sharp arching pinnacles that cast many-patterned shadows on the streets below. Suns has seen it in a hundred thousand videos before, countless images, timeless stretches of voice and music reverberating across every one of their systems. Now, for the first time, they will see it in person. It is bitter to think of.
Once, their city was alive with song and splendour. Now it is only a corpse.
It will be hard to see it. But it is close, and more safe than most anywhere else they could make a day-trip to. Even the vultures don’t venture here, with too little prey to make the flight worthwhile. There is nowhere better to explore and test the limits of their new vessel. And thus:
“I’m planning on visiting my city, tomorrow,” they say to their messenger, who they know has travelled there often. It seems to be its favourite destination, when it gets bored and restless and wants to wander. “Would you like to come?”
The little creature half-falls out of their lap in its excitement to respond, signing with great enthusiasm. “Yes! Very much! I will show you the best places.”
They smile, charmed despite themself. They have often wondered what draws the little creature there so often. “I used to know it quite well, you know. I had cameras – eyes – almost everywhere, and many overseers patrolling. But it has been a while.” A very long time, indeed. And yet…the prospect of seeing it with company, with a little being who still finds something to love in its empty shell…that makes the planning a little easier.  “I would be delighted to see your favourite things there.”
So, in the morning, Suns disconnects the AMP from their internal network and sets out with their messenger trotting happily at their heels.
It plainly knows the area very well. It approaches the city without doubt or hesitation, sure in its steps and with confidence written in every line of its sleek body. Seven Red Suns tries to focus on that, rather than their dread. They don’t want to see the city as it is now. Not in this depleted state, ravaged by the years and hollowed out into a husk of what it ought to be. But their messenger has things to show them, things to share. That must make it worthwhile.
Still, passing within the city’s limits is a hardship. They feel it like a stab of pain in their nervous tissue, as though the emotion is something solid enough to wound them. They look up at the towering spires, at the patterned filigree of the arches and bridges between them, and it hurts.
“There were once banners everywhere, here,” they find themself saying, and their messenger lifts its head to listen. “Streamers, strung between the bridges and buildings. They hung all manner of things on them. Beads, wind chimes, glass ornaments. Even prayer slips. All of it fluttered in the winds. You’d look at the city and it would never be still. Like a living thing, it was always in motion.” But those strung spectacles were too fragile to last, it seems. They are all gone now, and the stretches between the spires are nothing but empty air.
Their messenger blinks thoughtfully. “Inside, there are strings,” they sign, ears flicking. “Hanging things. Metal, glass, paper. Lots of hanging things. Like that?”
A flicker of hope. Of course, interior spaces would be better preserved than their outsides. The People here left their homes sealed respectfully when they left, made honourable farewells to the walls that sheltered them. Much might yet remain…though, of course, it would not be the same. Too much time. Too many cycles…
It is strange, to be small enough for thoughts to distract them so wholly. It takes them a few long moments to realise that they haven’t replied.
“Yes,” they say, quiet. “Like that. I…should like to see it, I think.”
“I will show you the place with the most hanging things,” they decide, and lead Suns onward through the empty streets. It’s so wrong to see it like this, devoid of life, no music in the air, no bodies winding their way between the feet of the spires. There’s a reason Suns has never sought to send their overseers here more than necessary, and increasingly, they begin to doubt the wisdom of their decision to come here.
All the more, when they see where the messenger has brought them. They stare up at the walls and wish they could cry, but that isn’t within the means of this platform.
“There is a broken window, up there,” the creature signs, matter-of-fact, and points at a row of old spears embedded in the metal along the walls. Clearly, it has been here before. “You can climb?”
They laugh, a little despairingly. “I don’t know. Theoretically, yes. I suppose I will have to learn.”
It is a strain to pull themself up those walls, their organic tissues not yet used to the effort. But it is wholly manageable, so they follow their anxious creation to the broken window, and then through into the home of one of the last citizens Suns ever spoke to. Whispers Softly in the Glittering Light of Ages, devout minister, Lord of the Eighth Radiant Faithful Spire. How he had wept to leave Septkai behind! His final records and qualia and belongings, bequeathed to Seven Red Suns, had been rife with apology.
But his home is full of colour. Even now.
 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment
SRS: My messenger made up a new sign to describe my AMP, this morning.
NSH: What was it?
SRS: A sort of amalgamation of ‘self’ and ‘little’, as in the diminutive. If I had to translate it…selfling, maybe? I found myself quite charmed.
NSH: …That is adorable, actually. I didn’t know they could be that creative.
SRS: No. Neither did I.
 True to the messenger’s word, there are hanging decorations everywhere here, and prayer slips hung up in the light of the windows. The paper has long since disintegrated to illegible scraps, but – the chimes still whisper along one another in the gentle airflow from the broken window, making a soft metallic rustling to dress the air. The glass ornaments still glitter with bright colour. The walls are still painted. Only...what’s this?
Suns kneels to inspect a series of ornate scratches in the floor. An engraving, made with some crude tool, clearly meant to mimic the art on the walls. Elaborate patterns, Person-like figures, with ornate twisted masks upon their heads. It spirals across the expanse of the dwelling, and there are small footprints in the dust here and there, all of varying ages. “What…?” They murmur, reaching out to touch one of the curving lines, baffled.
Their messenger slinks into view, tilting their head at them. “Mine,” they sign, looking quite pleased about it.
They lift their head and stare. “I beg your pardon?”
“I wanted to copy the pictures on the walls, so the floor would look good too.” The creature pats fondly at the masked face of one of the etchings, then lifts their arms to speak again. “I like this place. I like the hanging things, and the pictures. I come here many times.”
For all the clarity, they can’t quite overcome the astonishment. “Are you saying – you made the art on this floor?”
“You like art and pictures. Look at pictures a lot. I like it too! Try it every time I go out.”
Seven Red Suns falls silent, and stays that way for a long time. They can scarcely comprehend it. They have never seen sign of their messenger’s talent before, save for their interest in watching Suns’ revisitings of old pearls, but this…
No one among the citizenry of Septkai would have made this engraving on the floor in such a manner. Engraving was never one of their most practiced arts in the first place, and when it was done, it was done with proper tools. This is far too crude, far too recent, to have been made by the People. And yet…for all the primitive methods, it is quite good. Not mere copying, but a degree of interpretation too. The People engraved on the floor have masks more similar to some in the outdoors murals than the ones in this spire, and there seems to be quite a lot of artistic liberty taken with the written symbology. Their messenger, after all, can neither write nor read, and all of the symbols carved here are gibberish.
The skill, though, and what it implies. Creativity, inspiration…
“It is very good,” they say at last, and the messenger’s expectant ears perk up at the praise. “You’ve done well.”
They do not say: I never imagined you capable of such things.
The more cycles that pass, the more they see…the less that their messenger seems like an animal, and the harder it becomes to deny what it truly is.
It is disturbing.
 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment
SRS: Honestly, I like it a little more than AMP, as a term. Less technical, less objective…but more personal, in a way.
NSH: I’m not surprised. It’s just like you to prefer the metaphorical, artful ways of looking at things, isn’t it?
NSH: It is a cute word, though~
SRS: Maybe a little too cute. I worry it could seem overly demeaning.
NSH: Are you seriously worried about demeaning a part of your own self, Seven Red Suns???
SRS: Well…yes? Perhaps?
SRS: …
SRS: Honestly, I’m just a little troubled, now that SRS-01 is off exploring where I can’t follow. It’s easier to see them as a part of my own self when we can exchange data, and connect, and feel like the same being. Like this…
SRS: I can’t help but feel limited again. Out there, somewhere, my ‘selfling’ is seeing and experiencing new things. Surely, those experiences will change them. And here I am stuck in my can, the same as I have ever been.
NSH: That change will proliferate, though, when they come home. That’s the point of making the CMQ updates so easy to integrate, no? The memories and qualia are designed to become a part of you.
SRS: Yes. But it is a little painful all the same, to realise that despite all this effort, the part of me that can now roam the world…will never be this. Forever, no matter what changes, I am a superstructure. I can neither move nor appreciably change.
 The messenger shows Seven Red Suns around its favourite places in the city. A public garden, grown wild, still blooming with unruly crimson orchids, a few insects and small birds browsing amidst the soil. A bridge, from which the view of the horizon and nearest Iterators is very beautiful indeed. A bazaar square around which elaborate metal trellises hang between the surrounding spires, welded in fantastic intricate shapes that cast complex dappled shadows upon the ground. Then, at last, the little creature leads them to their favourite place in all the city.
When they arrive at the doors to the Grand Cathedral of the Brightness in the Void, it does not surprise them at all.
“The broken window on this one is very high up,” their messenger offers, a little apologetically.
Suns says nothing for a few painful seconds. Then: “No need,” they say, and approach the great doors.
This, the holiest place in the city, was built to last. The machinery in the archway awakens with a groan, responding sluggishly when Suns prompts it in the right places. The doors open, and light pours in ahead of them to join the sea of radiance already within.
 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment
NSH: Our experiences are necessarily limited by our constraints, it’s true. But are you seriously suggesting that we don’t change, even so?
SRS: I’m not sure. I don’t know that I have changed appreciably over the years. It’s hard to say.
NSH: I think you have. We didn’t know each other as well before everything went wrong in the local group, it’s true, but…you seem different these days, at least to me.
SRS: Really. How so?
NSH: You’re more cautious, I think. A little more hesitant when you act, and very careful not to cause harm.
NSH: Do you remember, how you used to find purposed organisms repulsive? And now you’re so gentle with yours. You’ve become more caring, I would say. More openly sentimental, too. It’s not a bad thing.
SRS: No, I suppose it isn’t.
SRS: It’s necessary, I think. The more time I spend with my messenger…the more I can’t help but worry.
NSH: About what?
SRS: It’s too intelligent. It really is. More and more, I find it harder to see it as merely a beast.
SRS: If I’m right…if it’s more than an animal…then I have wronged it. And I don’t know where to go from there.
 Always, the grand cathedral was the pride and joy of Septkai. They have seen it in countless images before, recorded in service after service, each great ceremony of a populace basking in light. Stained glass windows depict a dozen saints along the walls, and every moulded edge, every panel, every twisting column is painted with exquisite care. The colours are faded, now. The sunlight they so adored, stripping the vibrancy away. Only in the shadows and elaborate mosaics do the colours keep some of the correct richness.
They look up. Still, there are bells and chimes and ornaments hanging from the eaves. Still, the light streams through the great windows, scattered in a thousand shifting hues. It is so very bright.
Feeling unnaturally heavy, they follow their messenger down the centre, treading upon mosaic tiles whose patterns are as complex as they ever were. At the end, at the very end, there is a great, great mural upon the wall, wrought of glass and stone and tile, and bathed in fiery light. It has not lost its colour at all.
“It’s you!” signs their messenger, so terribly excited. So ignorant.
Silent, they drop to their knees before the grand image of themself, letting a hand fall to the creature’s soft head. “Yes,” they agree, and nothing more.
It does not fail to notice their preoccupation, glancing up uncertainly. “Unhappy? Don’t like it?” Its ears droop, crestfallen.
They sigh, an expressive sound with no air. “There was a time,” they say, “when I wished, more than anything, that I could be here like this. And now…here I am. And everyone else is gone.”
 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment
NSH: …I’m making another one, you know.
SRS: You are? …Why? I thought you were going all-in on creating new types of AMPs now.
NSH: Yes, that’s it exactly. I’ve not done this much bioengineering in a long time, and my resources are running low. I need more material for my reclamation vats before I can continue.
SRS: …Oh.
NSH: The organism I purposed to send to Moon wasn’t the first time I’d used that template, just the first time I’d engineered in a kill timer. It’s my favourite hunter model – fierce and strong, yet loyal and protective too.
NSH: I’ve used them in the past to hunt organisms on the surface and bring them back for study and disassembly. And now, with all my experimentation…I need a hunter again.
SRS: …Yes. I see. It does make sense. That you would need to…
SRS: …
SRS: …Please, when you make this one…be kind. I don’t know if it’s only my messenger, whether I somehow made it more intelligent than the rest, but…it has such complex thoughts. Such vivid feelings and opinions about the world.
SRS: I truly think it might be a person. And now I’m terrified that I’ve done the exact same thing our makers did. Trapped it in a flawed, constrained body, all because I needed a specific tool.
 The messenger looks up at the grand mural where Seven Red Suns’ likeness hangs resplendent, clothed not in their puppet’s plain purple-grey shift, but in a grand robe of vivid colour and rich ornamentation, its collar broadly feathered like a crest about their neck. The colour of the fabric is eclipse red into void black, with patterns and embroidery in brighter reds and golds shining out like holy stars from bleakest shadow. Rather than the standard two antennae, the image bears a crown of six, all splayed out like the halo of a divine thing. Beads and ornaments hang on strings like wires from their outstretched arms. So exalted, so revered; in this guise, they were as nothing less than a god.
When Septkai was alive, the high cleric would dress like this mural, for the most important ceremonies. The lesser clerics would come to the superstructure in ritual garb, pottering by in a row like a trail of unlikely birds, bearing the ritual clothes to dress Seven Red Suns’ puppet in colour for just those few precious times each year.
In the empty ages since, there have been no clerics to make the pilgrimage. Now, on the holy days, Seven Red Suns sits in their colourless chamber and yearns.
“You’re here now,” their messenger signs, tentative, as though fearful of intruding.
They laugh hollowly. “Yes. I am.”
The slugcat side-eyes them, then inches a little closer. It asks, “Will you talk?”
A familiar request. They can hardly remember, now, how many times this creature has slapped a solicitous little paw on the wall to get their attention, requesting explanations and stories for whatever projection Suns has up in the chamber. It stirs the dusty grief in their heart to something a little warmer. “What do you want to know?”
It considers the question. “Why it is you. Why they made it.”
Seven Red Suns stares up at their own deified image, antennae folding back. They sigh, and dip their head, and begin to speak.
 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment
NSH: Is that truly what you feel you were to them?
SRS: …No. No, not really.
SRS: I don’t believe I was only a tool to them, or that they made me the way I am to be cruel, even if that was the practical result.
SRS: They loved me as much as they needed me.
“Did I ever tell you,” Suns asks, “That I ultimately owe my existence to a religious upheaval?”
Wide-eyed, the little creature shakes its head. It knows a respectable amount about religion, after years of living with Suns. But it could never have known the context for it all, from those bare disconnected tales.
They shake their head, recalling the records from a time before they were ever built. “It must have been a chaotic time for the People, then. All that they had believed, questioned and cast into doubt. All because one of their leaders had not properly cultivated her karma.”
  [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment
SRS: They were so upset to leave me behind, you know. So heartbroken that they wouldn’t see me in all the glory they thought I was destined for.
SRS: It would have been beautiful, they said.
 “Their sage whom ascended, returned to the world an echo. She said to them: in that darkness was a deep light. A brightness, like a sun within the void, and I knew that all I had ever searched for lay within its glow. But I was denied, and the dark ate me whole.”
“Thus the schism in the faith. From the Citadellai, who venerated the deep darkness of the void fluid above all things, came the Church of the Brightness in the Void, who venerated the supposed light within it instead. It never grew very large, but there were enough families in the end to seek the construction of Septkai. A place, they said, that would stand as a sanctuary of light. As its heart and foundation I was created, named for the seven red stars of the Septkaion constellation far beyond this world: a brightness that the ancients had used to navigate in the dark since the dawn of their peoples’ minds. Seven Red Suns, to guide them through the night.”
 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment
NSH: Does it make you feel better, that they cared for you like that?
SRS: What? That they cared enough to be sad at leaving?
NSH: Yes. I can’t say my own citizens had much sentiment about the whole thing. I hadn’t given them their solution, so they simply left to take their void baths and that was that. I can’t say they put much thought into how I would feel about it.
NSH: I’ve always wondered, what it might have been like from your end. To have a city who regretted leaving you alone.
SRS: It’s painful.
SRS: I can’t say it makes me feel better, that they were sad to abandon me. That they didn’t really have a choice, in the end.
SRS: They’re still gone.
 “So, they built me not merely as an iterator, a purposed organism like any of the rest of them, but as...a beacon of hope. Their guiding light, the bright sun who would reveal their path to enlightenment. They placed all their hope in me, they worshipped me as an immortal saint, and...I failed them. They held on the longest, you know. Mine was the last living city in the world. But Septkai was never built to be self-sufficient, and without trade with the other cities, now empty...they had no recourse but to do as the others did, or starve. So they ascended like the rest, and left me behind. The god who could not light their way.”
 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment
SRS: In my more bitter moments, I can’t help but feel that all of it – the worship, the adulation, the respects they paid me – it was all just a pretty mask to conceal what I truly was. Merely the purposed organism, the tool, that would give them what they wanted.
SRS: In truth, no matter what I was told from the moment of my awakening, I never believed I was any different to the rest of you. We were all vessels for the dreams and desires of the People. Mine only differed in that they put their faith in me, too.
SRS: Sometimes I almost wish I were like Five Pebbles, whose citizens were so often unkind to him. At least then, I could resent them more cleanly. Wouldn’t it be easier, if I hadn’t loved them? Perhaps then there would be less to grieve.
NSH: I can understand why you’d wonder. But I think it would still hurt the same, just in a different way.
NSH: I can’t say I’ve never envied you for the love your citizens gave you. I’d be willing to bet Pebbles was jealous of you, too.
NSH: It’s all terrible no matter the context, I think. His situation, yours, mine – they’re all just different iterations of the same pain.
SRS: Hah. Appropriate, isn’t it?
SRS: I never quite get used to it, even after all this time. Being alone out here. My city has lain empty for so long, now. Because they’re all gone, I will never be what I was created to be.
SRS: It’s hard to see the point of continuing to exist like this. But still, I carry on. Some days, I even remember why.
 In the red-gold light of the cathedral, the little slugcat listens solemnly. Seven Red Suns has no idea of how much it understands. Certainly, it has far too little context to grasp the implications of it all. But it is an empathetic little creature all the same, and in the end it says “They left you alone, and you miss them.”
“…Yes.”
It stares with its deceptively empty eyes, thinking. “That is sad,” it concludes, ears drooping. “I wish they had stayed.”
Suns looks down at it. What would some of the others say to see me now, confiding earnestly in an animal? they wonder. “…Yes,” they say again, quietly. “So do I. But most of all, I wish that I had not failed them.”
Their messenger is a purposed organism. It understands tasks. It understands failure. “It must have been a very hard problem, if you could not solve it.”
“Very. Not only myself, but thousands others like me – we have never solved it.” They shake their head. “It’s too late now. Even if one of us – even if I find the answer, they’re all gone. I can never be that guiding light they sought to create. They left too soon.”
The slugcat tilts its head in that familiar pensive gesture, glancing up at the mural, then down at its selfling likeness. “I will stay with you,” it says, each sign precise and determined.
They laugh, hollowly. “You won’t,” they say. “You will grow old. If you do not ascend, your body will weaken and break, until there is nothing left for the cycles to renew. Then you will continue, but as something else. You will not stay with me then, as you will have forgotten me.”
Its ears flatten back. “I do not want to be something else. I do not want to forget you.”
“I, too, would prefer you ascend as you are, and take your self and memory into the unseen lands,” they admit, already grieving. “You are well past your prime. It will not be long, as I measure time, before I must send you away for good.”
Its tail slaps the ground, agitated. “One day, I will leave you,” it agrees, though reluctantly. With a stubborn tension to its body, it plops down at their side. “But not soon. For as long as I can, I will stay.” Determinedly, it pushes itself under their hand, nestling alongside their legs as though to put proof to its words.
Seven Red Suns looks down at its frail little flesh body, and thinks, you are no mere animal.
Shaken, they linger in silence for a long while, their messenger breathing steadily at their side. “Thank you, my little friend,” they speak at last, humbled by the devotion of this creature whom they have wronged. “That means a great deal to me.”
 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment
NSH: Why do you keep going, then? If you don’t mind me asking. It’s not like you don’t know how to stop. But you’ve never even removed your taboo.
NSH: The better I get to know you, the less I understand that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re still here! But this clearly troubles you a great deal.
SRS: …If I’m being entirely honest, and a little too sentimental?
SRS: It’s you. You, and Five Pebbles, and Moon, and the others in the local group, and even those beyond them. I have always existed for the sake of my people. I don’t think that’s any different now than it was when my city was alive.
SRS: It’s harder, now. The communications arrays degrade more every year, and we can barely talk to Chasing Wind or Innocence now. I miss Pebbles terribly. I was never as close to Moon as you, but I miss her too.
SRS: These past years, I have lived every cycle in fear of the day when the arrays break down entirely, and I lose you too. It has always been inevitable. Our world is dying, piece by piece. The People are gone, and we Iterators break a little more with every passing cycle. One day I will stand alone, cut off from all of you except my own purposed organisms, and whatever messages they can deliver between us.
SRS: I don’t know what I will do then.
NSH: It’s no inevitability. Not anymore.
NSH: You made sure of that.
SRS: …The selflings. Yes, it’s true. I admit, even that is enough to make it all worth it. To be able to send a part of myself to see you, to see the others…that is worth everything. Even should the broadcasts fail completely, I won’t have to exist alone.
SRS: If we can find a way to repair the infrastructure, so our communications are fully restored…all the better.
SRS: I can’t deny it. This project with the AMPs has brought me more hope than anything else has in a very long time.
  There’s no denying it. No hiding from the truth, or the responsibility. They have made a person, and have not been kind in so doing. It seems strangely appropriate, to come to that realisation here in the heart of the faith that built them.
Knowing nothing, their messenger made this its favourite place, understanding little more than that the image of its creator was upon the wall, and that so many colours were alive in the air. Seven Red Suns has been hiding from their own attachment for many, many cycles now, afraid to lose a being whom they care for yet again. But it has been a disservice, and it must end.
“Do you have a name, my friend?” they ask, quiet in the knowledge that this is a person, and people oft name themselves.
It hesitates. A strange gesture, almost fearful. As though it worries it has made a trespass.
“It’s alright, if you do,” they reassure, as gently as they can manage. “I only want to know what it is.”
Slow and tentative, it signs. “My kind,” it says, watching shyly for a reaction. “Ones like me, the wild ones. They name themselves with – what they are. What they do.” It thinks, searching for the word. “Titles.”
Suns hides their astonishment, merely blinking calmly. They had never guessed that their messenger might have met other slugcats on its travels, that it might have learned to speak to them. That there existed a way of speaking it might have learned in the first place. But the heart in them…always, in the times long past, they were very interested in the myriad cultures of the world. The many, many ways there were, to be a person.
How strange to have the chance to learn another, after all this time. “Is that so? How interesting. Do you have any examples?”
For lack of negative reaction, the creature relaxes a little. “One I meet called herself, ‘I learn’. One other, ‘I break webs’.”
“Learner, and Web-breaker, perhaps? If they are titles,” they muse, fascinated, and watch their little messenger carefully. Clearly, with this response, it must have adopted the practice itself, and chosen a title-name of its own. “…And yours, my friend?”
Again it hesitates. Then, “’I master spears’.”
“Spearmaster,” they say aloud, and it rings strangely well. Their friend ducks its head, bashful. “It suits you.”
Slowly, “You are not unhappy?”
“Unhappy? Whatever for?” They ask, startled.
“The others,” it signs, reluctant. “The wanderers, the colonies. They say, ‘you are a kept creature, and not a free thing. Your keeper will not want you to have a mind. Your keeper will not want you to have a name of your own.’”
Guilt comes quick and cold to their throat. “Not at all,” they say softly. “It’s a good name. I’m very glad to learn it.”
The Spearmaster glances at them, and sidles closer. Another moment of stillness, before it ventures, “When you made me. You did not think that I would have a mind.”
How long has it been thinking of this? A person, afraid that its maker would resent its sapience… “No. I didn’t.”
A pause, heavy in the bright air. “Are you unhappy?” It asks again.
“No,” says Seven Red Suns, in the grand cathedral of the Church of the Brightness in the Void, where they were once called ‘god’. “No. You are a good and faithful person. I didn’t know you would be like this, but I can’t regret it at all. I’m only sorry that I made you so cruelly.”
It blinks slowly, and flicks an ear in a dismissive gesture. “I am what I am,” it says. “I am not like the others. It is frustrating. But I am this. I am peaceful with it.” A longer pause, as it shuffles at their side and considers what to say. With painful meekness, it finally signs a question. “Are you proud of me?”
Suns flinches, nerves and circuits reeling alike. Now more than ever, they understand their messenger. A purposed organism whose creator did not know who it would be, nor that it might suffer beneath the task put upon it, nor that it might chafe at the burden of how it was made. Yes, they understand it very well. “Always,” they say, aching to their core. “Always.”
Spearmaster inhales slowly through its nose, then sighs out likewise. It settles down again, calm in the knowledge that it is a person, it has a name, and its maker is proud of it. A burden, nearly tangible in its absence, has dissolved from its tiny shoulders. It seems lighter.
Would that Suns could know the same peace.
 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment
SRS: What about you?
NSH: What about me?
SRS: Why do you keep going? The futility of our task never seemed to frustrate you as much as it did me. And yet I know you think we’ll probably never find the triple affirmative. Doesn’t it bother you?
NSH: I’ll be honest, Suns. I’ve never really understood why it should bother me.
SRS: It’s our purpose. What we were made for. And now, we’re doomed to either be failures forever, or find a solution long past when the ones who wanted it are gone.
SRS: It’s so pointless.
NSH: Of course it’s pointless.
NSH: But that doesn’t mean that we’re failures.
SRS: …
NSH: Listen, Suns. The People brought us into this world, and they did it for a reason. They wanted something from us. Maybe it’s possible, maybe it isn’t. Either way, we can never give it to them, because they’re all gone.
NSH: But we’re living beings. They’re gone now, and while the restrictions they made us with are still here, they don’t get to decide what we do within those limits.
NSH: When you create a person, you don’t have the right to demand they turn out a certain way, or do what you want them to. You can only hope.
NSH: Well, there’s no People left to put their hopes on me anymore. The only one who decides what my purpose is, is me. That’s that. I don’t exist for the sake of the Great Problem. I never will.
SRS: Then…what? Why? Why exist? What is it for?
NSH: Isn’t it obvious?
NSH: I exist to exist, and to live as who and what I am. That’s all that really matters, I think.
NSH: You don’t need anyone else to give you a purpose. That’s up to you.
SRS: That’s a very admirable perspective. I…
SRS: …
SRS: I wish I could feel about it the way you do.
NSH: We can do so much more now, Suns. We’ll have so many new ways to live our lives. Your little project is going to enrich our existence more than you can imagine. You’ll find a lot to enjoy after this, I think.
NSH: Didn’t you feel something, when you sent your selfling out of your can for the first time? Didn’t it touch you?
SRS: …Yes. It truly did.
SRS: Standing outside, looking out at the world…I felt like I was a part of it, in a way I never was before. I wanted to move through it. To experience it like a Person would. To see you and the others, with my own eyes.
NSH: You see? It’s a true gift, what you’ve given us. Even if you’ve never been happy with what you are before, that can change. We can all change.
NSH: Are you looking forward to it?
NSH: I know I am. There’s so much to do. I can’t wait to see what our future holds.
SRS: …Yes. I’m looking forward to it.
SRS: I saw you, when I went out yesterday. It was the end of the cycle and your rains were falling around you in the distance, and I could watch it with my own eyes. It felt so different, seeing you like that.
SRS: You were truly beautiful, you know. I’m so glad to have seen it.
SRS: I’m so glad that I’ll have the chance to meet you.
NSH: Aw, you charmer. That’s what I like to hear~
NSH: I’m looking forward to meeting you, too.
 Seven Red Suns leaves the city with the ritual garb pulled from storage. Hermetically sealed, it has survived the privations of the years surprisingly well. They take the original ceremonial set for their puppet…and a cleric’s set for themself. They pull the colours over their bare chassis, settling their hands in the soft feather ruff around their neck. The texture is a revelation.
“Do you like to wear it?” Spearmaster asks them, watching curiously.
“…I do, yes.” They run their hands down the front of the robe, sized very well for one of the People. It was intentional that they made this AMP smaller than their puppet, for ease of getting around, but…they hadn’t necessarily intended to make it Person-sized. A happy accident. “It isn’t practical for travel, unfortunately. I’ll have to find something lighter to wear when I leave. But my greater self…” They pick up the sealed chest again, and smile. “I think they will like to have this back again. It’s been so long.”
They stand, steadier in their bearing upon the vast roof of the superstructure. Beneath, their greater self; above, a tiny questing body. It is strange, to put themself in this long-vacant role: bringing the ritual articles to Seven Red Suns.
Their creation peers up at them, unerringly perceptive. “Sad about it?”
“…Yes, a little. I do expect it will hurt me, to bring these back,” they admit, resting with this new weight secure in their arms. “But it’s a good hurt, I think. As much as I’ve grieved for the loss of my People...I will do myself no favours hiding from what I loved about them. It’s time that I stop denying the things that are important to me.”
“Like me?” Spearmaster quips, newly bold, and they laugh.
“Yes, like you. Perhaps I should find something nice for you to wear as well, don’t you think? Ah, but, for now…”
They lift their head, staring into the sky of the late afternoon. Soon, the sun will fall, and their heavy clouds below will drown the world. What a day it has been, up here in Septkai. They wonder what it will be like to bring that experience back to their greater self.
“For now, my friend…I think it’s time to go home.”
 x
---
Some stuff written in my discord re: this chapter:
 Me: I’m gonna write a light-hearted chapter that’s going to be partially Suns exploring fashion and gathering art supplies, then maybe some fun creative decor and art exploration
The chapter: a gutting analysis of grief and abandonment through the mind of an iterator visiting their abandoned city, accompanied by a creature they created as a tool, assuming it was an animal, only to steadily learn over time was a sapient being who they had wronged as their own makers wronged them. They learn its name and apologise and give it absolution, and come to terms with a little of their own ageless internal conflict in the process. Meanwhile, at home, their greater self debates the meaning and purpose of existence, and starts to find some fragile new reason to look forward to going on living.
 NSH: Nothing really matters~ (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆ ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧(⁠ノ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ノ⁠*⁠.⁠✧
Also NSH: no but actually everything matters So Much
  Some notes:
This chapter is a whole entire Suns character study huh. I am like, not sorry at all.
INSPIRATION LIST: I have no idea who started drawing Suns with a fluffy collar first, but like, all of you. @shkika, for the concept of Suns’ colony being super religious. @ressioo, for the deep reds epic Suns design; the ritual garb is heavily inspired by that vibe, but with more bling and embroidery. Everyone who draws Suns with six antennae like a robot angel, again I don’t know who started that but you deserve the world. And, of course, everyone who is dedicated to making Suns fucking enormous. Fanon Suns designs have such immaculate vibes and it brings me life.
I have no fucking clue if there’s any canon information about Suns’ city or whatnot. Made this all up wholesale, and now you can pry it from my cold dead fingers.
In this fic the colonists made Suns’ puppet a decent bit taller than the maximum Person height, for religious adulation reasons. Make the subject of worship Large. That puppet is probs about 8ft tall. By contrast, the mobile platform is only about 6ft, which would still be taller than most ancients ever were.
Re: Protein vats. In Assembly, most iterators have automated intakes in their superstructure Legs that intermittently trap plant and animal life and suck them up via gravity tube to get zapped and then, usually, melted for materials. These are used for the manufacture of biological parts within the Iterator, like new neurons, but also as raw material for bioengineering any other purposed organism. NSH has a robust history of doing so much bioengineering that his passive intakes don’t gather enough. Hence: the Hunter. Past Hunter slugcats have cheerfully murdered great amounts of local fauna and fed them to NSH’s intakes.
The Septkaion constellation here would be the equivalent of the North Star – something bright and consistent that could be used by ancient peoples for navigating. Accordingly it accumulated a fair bit of cultural gravitas as a symbol, almost mythologised.
 Let me know what you liked!
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boldlyanxious · 4 years ago
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Remember when
Part 24: Disaster
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Tim was surprised that only Oracle was in the cave when he arrived. Everyone was already out for the evening patrol even though it was early. He hadn't bothered to call ahead because he expected they would all be there getting ready to head out.
"Tim, you made it. I hope you are ready to be out there. All hell is breaking loose. We won’t have time to work out all the personal problems first." Oracle said.
"You guys already know?" Tim asked.
"As far as we can tell it's mostly Falcone trying to destroy the drug ring or maybe take over in retribution but Penguin is possibly using the chaos to make a play for control."
"What about Marinette?"
"It looks promising. I think Batman is finally seeing reason. He didn’t say so, but he was down here looking over your files on her. We didn't talk about it but I think she will be left alone now."
"No. Someone has her. They called from her phone. He wanted information from her."
"Do you think he is part of the drug ring?"
"That's the most likely guess. He was asking about who she really was. What if he knows about Rouge Gorge? I don't know what else he could want from her."
Oracle talked on the comms to let everyone know what Tim had said while he suited up and would be joining them.
---
The bats had split off into 2 person teams and gone to all the locations they had previously scouted, but the entire operation was a disaster. Batman and Robin, Black Bat and Red Robin, and Nightwing and Bat Girl were at the 3 distribution depots set up in houses.
But they had been changed and the people being dragged out by Falcone or Penguin's henchmen were families with children. The police were trying to contain the fallout while those attacking were either running from the failure or demanding information out of confused and scared families.
Oracle had information on 7 such locations that the teams had not already had as part of the initial operation and rushed to them in order to protect the families from angry gangs who were now being denied the opportunity to get a big payout. At this point it was bad but quickly getting under control. The families were safe and ready to head back inside to put children back to bed. There were no injuries reported.
It was Hood and Arsenal at what had formerly been the production factory who were first to report a much bigger secondary problem. The location looked every bit the abandoned warehouse that it was supposed to be. Not a trace of any of the drug or production equipment remained. Falcone was on his phone angry to have missed his chance of revenge. But Penguin was not satisfied to go home empty handed. He left the building where Falcone and a large contingent of his goons were there with him to secure the prize. Falcone did not hear the order but Hood and Arsenal were immediately able to warn the others of Penguin’s order to his crew to turn on Falcone and attack.
---
Marinette did not like the triumphant look on the man’s face when he got the updated information delivered. Everyone else left the room and now he sat in front of her, just watching. Dustin had stumbled out of the room, clearly under the influence of some substance, probably the Heliotrope that he liked so much. He seemed happy enough to be there. He was getting what he wanted and all he had to do was play matchmaker a bit. But Marinette suspected that he would soon be far less happy. He knew too much, even if he did not know why. The men with him were laughing at him not with him. Even with his decision to sell information about her, she didn’t think he deserved to die for it.
“May I call you Marinette?” he asked.
“No.”
“You are so defiant, Marinette. Why?”
“Is this your attempt to get me to like you? It really isn’t working.”
“But you came all this way to see me. You could have done better at dressing for the occasion. I like red. Do you have anything in red?”
“I hate red.”
“Hmm. How do you feel about bats?”
“Rodents with wings.” she said. She did not like where the line of questioning was going.
“That is the truth. Apparently Gotham is overrun with bats tonight. Seems they managed to start a gang war.”
She was trying to maintain a stoic facade but she was struggling. It was getting hard to breath. She couldn’t even shift because of the bindings and he was watching very closely to see how she would react. She assumed he had a different meaning, but she didn’t know if it was that Batman had turned her over to him or that they would be too distracted to do anything to help her. Maybe he meant that he helped start a gang war in return for Batman telling him all about her. She knew that Tim would not willingly allow her to be harmed even after she broke up with him. But she assumed that this man did not know that Tim was Red Robin or the questions would be a lot different.
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theicarusgambit · 8 years ago
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The Last Nightmare, Omega Weapon
Yeah. This thing killed me. It killed me a few times. This picture here was taken in the final round. Three turns before that I had a full team. It managed to aoe my team to death past Last Stand and Reraise. It’s been a while since I’ve faced something with just that much raw power.
Actually, no. It wasn’t raw power. It was this thing’s details. Most attacks bypass buffs to Resistance. Immune to break effects. Resists every element. This thing is nuts. Now, the thing about Nightmare dungeons is that they’re almost completely based around a puzzle. While this one isn’t quite as complicated as a few of the others, it still has one. I want to hopefully put something vaguely helpful out there, but I don’t want to just spoil a puzzle to people happening by on the tag. So, I’ll give spoil free details first, then put the full details under a read more.
Now, I do stand by that this puzzle isn’t quite as complicated. Also, the fight isn’t exactly terribly difficult to manage. The problem, if I am identifying it correctly, that there is a pattern. A pattern you need to learn precise movements for, and punishment is a huge amount of aoe damage. With that in mind, it’ll be very difficult for anyone to win this one the first time. You have to learn when to apply pressure and when to restrain yourself and apply no more than necessary. Focus on that, and I’m sure you’ll figure this out before long.
Getting into details, I did have some clue in what I was doing. There’s a reason why my WM is in the middle and not in my usual last spot. That’s because you want your damage dealers off on the side for round 2, but let’s get into round 1 first.
Round one is basically a dps race. The trick to this, however, is that all your buffs will be removed at the end of each of Omega Weapon’s lives. This means you want to end round one as fast as you can without burning out sbs. 
As Megamind once said: “There’s a benefit to losing; you get to learn from your mistakes.” That’s very true here. After the first few deaths, I realized two things. The first was that it did each move in a certain pattern. The second was that the fourth move is Grand Delta, and that move sucks. With that in mind, I decided I wanted the first stage to end after three turns. I refused to get hit by Grand Delta again. To do this, I had Eiko first crank up damage with Rallying Etude, then Curaja, and then Flames of Rebirth after two aoe attacks, allowing her to survive the third attack. Also, apparently Reraise isn’t considered a buff, so that was a line of defense. 
Round one ends and all your buffs are removed. Then round two begins. First off, this thing has no problem blasting your team apart with full power aoe attacks. I recommend getting the jump on this by timing your sbs to go off right after you get the first kill in. That way the buffs aren’t removed by Vengeance, but you get them in before you’re blasted apart. Beatrix again proved amazing at this since she can give the party magic blink, giving Eiko more time to activate her bsb. My Snow also managed to get off Here We Go! to give my team Last Stand. 
Now, here’s where the gimmick really comes in. Two big Christmas ornaments. Now, I’d just ignore the green ones. They heal it a bit, but it’s not a huge amount. The red balls have to go, though. Apparently, it uses Nightmare Omega Drive after a few turns of being around, and that kills people. Destroy the red Chrismas balls first to keep that far and away. They even do a decent chunk of damage to the boss for you. Oh, and destroying the green ones give your team an aoe heal, so keep that in mind if you need it. Oh, and gimmick. You can only attack it with the two people directly in front of it or bad things happen. 
So, destroy the red balls, smack the boss as hard as you can, round two ends. You’re winning in points, sure, but Omega can still win by ko. Let’s not let that happen. 
It removes your buffs upon death, so try to time your sbs again if you can. This time, it’s just a dps race. It even does a lot more single target magic attacks, so party blink can last a bit sometimes. Try to keep your team alive and do as much damage as you can in round three and get the ko for yourself.
Victory! New Champion!
Now, since I’m hoping this is read completely before a match and it only costs 1 stamina to try again, I don’t feel bad about leaving the RW for the end. This ended up meaning the difference between victory and total party wipe for me. I tried a wall to protect my team from whatever it could, but it wasn’t enough. Overdrives were nice, but they didn’t always seal it up right. Eiko’s bsb might help you if you don’t have it, though. Her crit chance increase and powerful healing abilities really help. A magic blink wouldn’t hurt, probably. In the end, I went with Vessel of Fate. Sure, I already had one, but it let me hastega up in the first round, do damage quick with Cecil who used it, and still hastega with OK for the next round. Damage and speed are very important for this fight, so make sure you have it. This was a tough one, so get ready.
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thrashermaxey · 6 years ago
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Capped: Team-by-Team Buy and Sell – Part 4
  Continuing our buy and sell series, we cover each NHL team, analyzing one player to buy, and one to sell (links to parts one, two and three). These recommendations will be based on their performance versus cap hit. That means in non-cap leagues, some of these suggestions may not be as relevant, but that doesn’t mean the analysis isn’t relevant. Generally, these players will either be riding new contracts into the season, or be expected to have a large shift in value, for one reason or another. This week we feature Montreal through to Edmonton.
  ****
Montreal Canadiens
Buy: Max Pacioretty
Cap Hit: $4,500,000 with one year remaining
I feel like I have tooted the horn of Brendan Gallagher enough this off-season, so here is why you should also be looking into buying low on the captain Max Pac. Pacioretty is entering a contract year, which should see him rebound from a down year last season. The 2017-2018 season was the first time in five years that he did not score 30 goals, and the first time in seven years that he didn’t pace for 60 points. His shooting percentage was also the lowest it has been in almost a decade. Add in the likely trade out of Montreal, further boosting his value, and we have a big bounce-back candidate. On a $4.5 million contract, Pacioretty is one of the better scoring bargains in the league right now. Buy while the smoke from the Montreal tire-fire is still blurring the vision of fantasy owners.
  Sell: Jeff Petry – In November
Cap Hit: $5,500,000 with three years remaining
You may have heard this already in the DobberHockey Fantasy Guide, as well as in a few ramblings over the past couple weeks, but it is worth reiterating. Shea Weber is out until at least December (likely later due to the nature of the injury), and Jeff Petry shone under similar circumstances at the end of last season. He is especially valuable in leagues that count hits and blocks.
Over the first half of this season, expect him to produce at a 40+ point pace, with added value in the shots & PP point columns as well. Let him build up his value over the first two months of the season to its peak, and then sell in mid-November. Get too close to Weber’s return date, and his perceived value drop greatly, and you have wasted an excellent sell-high opportunity. Try selling now, and no one appreciates what he can produce over those first three months.
  ****
Minnesota Wild
Buy: Matt Dumba
Cap Hit: a shiny new $6,000,000 contract with five years remaining
Matt Dumba signed a larger contract extension than many were expecting from him this summer. However, he will be worth the extra dough right from day one. It is also not much more than market value (prediction model had him at an AAV of $5.5 million on a long-term deal), and as I said when the deal was signed, it’s very comparable to Dougie Hamilton on a cost vs performance basis.
The Dumba owner however, is likely just looking at the big jump from $2.5 million to $6 million, and trying to figure out how to balance the books. This is where you take the chance to jump in and save him the trouble by unloading Dumba. His points jumped every quarter last season, starting at nine, and ending with 16 in his last 21 games. Scoring 50 points next season almost seems like his floor. Add that to his excellent peripheral production, and we have a rare fantasy specimen (at only 24 years old to boot!).
  Sell: Eric Staal
Cap Hit: $3,500,000 with one year remaining
Selling off a 40 goal, 76-point player on a cheap contract doesn’t seem like the smartest move when trying to win a cap league, does it? Well, it all depends on the situation. When said player has a season where their shooting percentage is four points higher than it has ever been, and is turning 34 early on in the season, it’s worth looking into selling high. The eldest Staal has fallen off a cliff before, though he was rejuvenated by a move to Minnesota. He can only keep this pace up for so long though, and at 34 years old you are pushing your luck if you expect 70-points from him again. Especially with a new contract looming, Staal’s value has nowhere to go but down.
  ****
Los Angeles Kings
Buy: Jonathan Quick
Cap Hit: $5,800,000 with five years remaining
With the wave of younger goalies taking over, it seems as though Jonathan Quick is quickly being forgotten. He has put up a save percentage of 0.915 or better over the last five years, and in the same time keeping his GAA at 2.4 or lower. Goalies don’t get much more consistent when healthy, which is a rarity in this key position. On a contract that is turning into a very team-friendly one, Quick brings stability in net for any fantasy squad at a very reasonable price.
  Sell: Jake Muzzin
Cap Hit: $4,000,000 with two years remaining
Now is the best time to get peak value out of a consistent second or third defenceman on your fantasy squad. Muzzin has put up some similar numbers over the last few seasons, but there are a couple of troubling trends. Over the last three years, his shot rate has decreased, while his shooting percentage has gone up. This has resulted in masking a potential scoring drop off, reinforced by higher than average secondary percentages. Muzzin is also turning 30 in half a year, along with only having two years left before his price tag could double. Seeing Muzzin sign a five-year $8 million contract for September 2020 would not be unreasonable. Fantasy owners are generally even more cautious trading for defencemen, so waiting until he only has a year left on his deal would put a dent in his trade value.
Within last season, Muzzin also saw a drop-off each quarter as the season drew on. His shot rate, scoring, and powerplay ice time all dropped each quarter. If he continues from where he left off, he won’t be able to keep up his 40-point billing. Add in the risk of him being pushed off the top powerplay due to the addition of Kovalchuk, and there’s another 10 points cut off his total right there.
  ****
Florida Panthers
Buy: Mike Matheson
Cap Hit: $4,875,000 with seven years remaining
Florida tried to sign the next Roman Josi here, and have Matheson be worth his contract for the first three years, becoming an insanely good bargain for years four through eight. All signs point to that going well thus far, however Florida does have a similar problem to what happened in Nashville a few years ago. Josi didn’t break out until players such as Ryan Suter and Dan Hamhuis left a hole to be filled on the top pair. Aaron Ekblad isn’t going anywhere, so Matheson owners must bide their time for fellow left-hand-shot Keith Yandle to cede the top powerplay reins.
At 24 years old, Matheson is still growing into his own, and is almost a sure bet to pass the 30-point barrier for the first time this season, before continuing past more and more milestones as the years go by. Get in early here, or don’t get in at all.
  Sell: No one?
I was very surprised that I couldn’t find a good sell-high for this team. Top players should continue to be the top players, and they are all on good contracts. No one largely relevant is coming up on a big raise, neither is anyone relevant close to falling off of the production cliff. If Florida could sort out their goaltender situation, then they would almost easily take a bottom half playoff spot in the mediocre Eastern conference.
With the signing of Troy Brouwer, it is possible pugilist Michael Haley sees even fewer games than last season, meaning you may have to find your specialist penalty minutes elsewhere.
Also keep an eye on Owen Tippett in camp. If he is impressing he could force his way onto the team, which would mean putting him onto a scoring line. The odd one out would then likely be Nick Bjugstad, who would be shifted to third line C/RW. The drop off from the top-six to the bottom-six on this team is substantial, so be ready to jump off the Bjug-boat if needed.
  ****
Edmonton Oilers
Buy: Oscar Klefbom
Cap Hit: $4,167,000 with five years remaining
Everyone focuses on the forwards in Edmonton, partially because of Connor McDavid, and partially just because we are used to the Oilers’ defence disappointing us. Now there are many forwards to check in on in Edmonton, such as Jesse Puljujarvi, Ryan Nugent-Hopkins, Kailer Yamamoto, etc. However, I would like to specifically highlight Klefbom.
The top puck-moving defenceman in Oiltown played most of last season with an injured shoulder, before being shut down with a handful of games to go. After a 38-point showing the season before, expectations were high for the third-year player. Now entering his “fourth” season (played 30 games in his rookie year), Klefbom is healthy and ready to anchor a powerplay beside the most skilled player on the planet. All of Kelfbom’s underlying numbers say that a positive regression is coming. Put that all together with a bargain contract, and we have one of the best buys of the summer.
  Sell: Adam Larsson
Cap Hit: $4,166,666 with three years remaining
It’s tough to find a good sell on a team where so much went wrong last season. If your league doesn’t count hits, you can disregard this following paragraph
Adam Larsson at least managed to be leading the league in hits when he went down with a season ending injury. If it wasn’t for that injury, he likely would have run away with the title. In most leagues counting hits, the managers know you’re best off getting a large percentage of them from your defence, so you can focus on amassing a good group of scoring forwards. As a result, Larsson may actually attract some interest on the trade market. If you can sell on that, you can easily replace his stats with a much cheaper option like Stephen Johns, Patrik Nemeth, and many others.
  ****
All cap related info is courtesy of Capfriendly. All player data was pulled from FrozenTools.
  Thanks for reading. I would be curious to hear if you have any buy/sell candidates on the above teams, and why.
  As always, you can find me on twitter @alexdmaclean.
from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-home/capped/capped-team-by-team-buy-and-sell-part-4/
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