#growing like vines inside my organs . or something.

[mainfaggot]

i think that melancholy is just a part of who i am now. lol

[v1ctor1asecretangel]

Bound By The Dark

Tate Langdon x Reader loosely based on Romeo and Juliet.

song i recommend listening to: living legend by lana del rey

warning: very angst, suicide, using medication to commit, romanticizing of death, tragic ending, themes of isolation, depression, emotional distress, do not read if ANY of these are triggers.

word count: 2.7k

notes: please read this with caution. if you are struggling with suicidal thoughts, please know that you are loved and supported. its never to late for help:)

The house had a history.

You learned that almost immediately after stepping foot inside the large, looming structure. It towered over the street, its cracked façade barely hidden behind sprawling vines and overgrown bushes. The real estate agent had brushed off any concerns you or your parents had, but there was a feeling. A thick, suffocating tension. That settled over the place, clinging to your skin like humidity. It smelled old, like mildew and stale air, and as soon as you crossed the threshold, you knew you didn’t want to be there.

But your family didn’t care about how it felt. They cared that the house was cheap, and that it was far larger than any other home you’d ever lived in. Your father said it was a “fresh start” for all of you. A new life in a new city. It was the kind of lie that parents told when they didn’t want to admit that things had been falling apart for a long time, and now this move was their last-ditch attempt to piece things back together.

But no matter how much you tried to embrace that optimism, you couldn’t shake the chill that seeped into your bones as you walked the long, winding halls of the house. Something was off, like the house was waiting for something, or maybe for someone.

The first few days were relatively uneventful. Boxes were unpacked, rooms were organized, and your parents seemed to settle in without much concern. Your room was large, with a window that looked out onto the overgrown backyard, where a twisted oak tree stood tall and crooked, like it had been there longer than the house itself.

But even in the bright light of the afternoon, the house felt wrong. Its walls creaked and groaned in the night as if it had a voice of its own. Sometimes, when you were alone, you could swear you heard footsteps echoing down the hallways, but when you looked, no one was there. The isolation was suffocating, and though you had tried to distract yourself with new schoolwork and social media, nothing could fill the growing void inside you.

It was late one evening when you first met him.

The rain had been pounding against your window, relentless and unyielding, when you decided to venture down to the basement. Your parents had explicitly warned you to stay away from it, but something about the basement called to you. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was fate.

The stairs groaned under your weight as you descended, the air growing colder with each step. The basement was dimly lit, the shadows casting strange shapes along the walls, and yet it felt strangely familiar. Like you had been there before, though you knew you hadn’t.

And then you saw him.

He was leaning against one of the brick walls, his blond curls falling into his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. His clothes were simple, almost dated—a worn sweater and jeans that looked like they belonged to a different era. But it was his eyes that held your attention—dark, hollow, and full of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Hey,” he said softly, as if he’d been expecting you. His voice was calm, almost soothing, despite the eerie atmosphere of the basement.

You froze, unsure of what to do. This was your house—wasn’t it? Who was he? How had he gotten in?

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice steady but your heart racing in your chest.

He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Tate.”

“And what are you doing in my house?” you demanded, trying to sound braver than you felt.

Tate shrugged, pushing himself off the wall and stepping closer to you. “I live here.”

His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. He lived here? That couldn’t be true—you and your family had just moved in. The house had been empty for years. Or at least, that’s what the real estate agent had said.

“No, you don’t,” you said, frowning. “We just moved in. No one’s lived here for years.”

Tate’s smile widened, though there was something almost sad about it. “Not in the way you think.”

There was something about the way he said it—so matter-of-fact, so final—that sent a chill down your spine. You opened your mouth to ask what he meant, but before you could, the lights flickered, plunging the basement into darkness for just a second. When the light returned, Tate was gone, leaving you standing alone in the cold, silent basement.

You tried asking your parents if they knew anything about the previous owners of the house, but they shrugged it off. “No one important,” your father had said, brushing past the question as if it didn’t matter. “Some old family. The house has been empty for a while.”

But you knew that wasn’t true. Tate had been there, and somehow, you felt like he had been there for a long time.

It wasn’t long before you saw him again. It was late at night, after your parents had gone to bed. You were restless, unable to sleep, so you wandered the house, hoping to quiet your thoughts. As you passed by one of the unused rooms on the second floor, you felt a strange pull, as if something—or someone—was calling you.

You pushed the door open, and there he was, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest. He looked up as you entered, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“You came back,” he said softly, as if he had been waiting for you.

“I didn’t come back for you,” you said, though even as the words left your mouth, you knew they weren’t entirely true.

Tate smiled that sad, knowing smile again. “You don’t have to lie. Not to me.”

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. There was something about him—something that drew you in, even though every instinct in your body told you to stay away. He was dangerous, you could feel it in your bones, but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to know him. You needed to understand him.

“Why are you here?” you asked, stepping further into the room.

Tate sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “Because I can’t leave.”

“What do you mean?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if the weight of the answer was too much to bear. “I’m tied to this house. I’ve been here for a long time. Longer than you could imagine.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine. “Are you… are you dead?”

Tate’s eyes opened slowly, and when they met yours, they were filled with a sorrow so deep it took your breath away. “Yes.”

You weren’t sure how to process the fact that Tate was a ghost.

You wanted to deny it, to rationalize it, but the more you spoke with him, the more real it became. Tate had died a long time ago, but his spirit remained in the house, bound by some invisible force that kept him there.

At first, you were scared. You avoided the rooms where you had seen him, trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t real—that he wasn’t real. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were meant to know him. There was something about him, something tragic and beautiful, that pulled you in.

And so, slowly, you began to seek him out.

It became a routine: you’d wander the house late at night, knowing you’d find him waiting for you somewhere. Sometimes in the basement, sometimes in that forgotten room on the second floor. You’d talk for hours, sharing stories of your life, your dreams, your fears. And Tate, in return, told you about his.

He had been lonely for so long, trapped in the house with no one to talk to, no one to understand him. But with you, he felt alive again, even if just for a fleeting moment.

One night, as you sat together in the attic, Tate reached out and brushed his fingers against your cheek. His touch was cold, but it sent a warmth spreading through your chest, igniting something deep inside you.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered, his voice trembling with something you couldn’t quite place. “This house… it’s not safe.”

“I don’t care,” you said, your heart pounding in your chest. “I want to be with you.”

Tate’s eyes darkened, filled with a mix of desire and fear. “You don’t understand, Y/N. I’m dangerous. I’ve done things… horrible things.”

“I don’t care,” you repeated, your voice firm. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and electric. Tate stared at you, his expression filled with shock and disbelief. “You… you love me?”

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “Yes, Tate. I do.”

For a moment, Tate didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, he leaned in and kissed you. His lips were cool against yours, but the kiss was filled with an intensity that took your breath away. It was desperate, almost frantic, as if he was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear.

But you didn’t pull away. You kissed him back, pouring every ounce of your heart into that single, stolen moment.

When you finally broke apart, Tate rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “But we can’t… we can’t be together. Not like this.”

Despite Tate’s warnings, you couldn’t stay away from him.

Every night, you found yourself returning to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And each night, your connection deepened. You could feel it—the way the house seemed to pulse with a dark energy, as if it knew you were falling in love with a ghost and was waiting for the inevitable fallout.

Your parents noticed the change in you, though they didn’t understand it. You spent less time with them, more time wandering the halls of the house, lost in your thoughts. They tried to talk to you about it, but you brushed them off, too consumed by your love for Tate to care about anything else.

“You’ve been acting strange,” your mother said one morning over breakfast, her brow furrowed with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, though your heart felt heavy in your chest. How could you tell her the truth? How could you explain that you had fallen in love with someone who was dead?

But deep down, you knew it couldn’t last.

The house was getting to you. You could feel it in the way the walls seemed to close in on you, the way the air felt thicker, heavier. The longer you stayed, the more you realized that Tate had been right—it wasn’t safe. Not for you, not for anyone.

And yet, you couldn’t leave him. You loved him too much.

It was late one night when everything came crashing down.

You had been in the attic with Tate, your head resting on his shoulder as the two of you lay side by side. The house was quiet, the only sound the soft patter of rain against the roof.

“You know this can’t last, right?” Tate said suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stiffened, pulling away to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Tate’s eyes were filled with sadness as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re alive, Y/N. You have a life outside of this house. Outside of me.”

“I don’t want a life without you,” you said, your voice trembling. “I can’t leave you, Tate.”

“But you have to,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You deserve to live. To be happy.”

Tears filled your eyes as you shook your head. “I don’t want to be happy without you.”

Tate closed his eyes, his expression pained. “I love you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. But this… it’s not fair to you.”

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed through the attic, followed by the creak of the door opening. You turned to see your father standing in the doorway, his face pale with shock.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice shaking. “Who are you talking to?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you realized that your father couldn’t see Tate. To him, you were sitting alone, talking to thin air.

“Dad, I can explain—” you started, but your father cut you off.

“We’re leaving,” he said, his voice firm. “This house… it’s doing something to you. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“No!” you cried, standing up and taking a step toward him. “I’m not leaving! I can’t!”

But your father didn’t listen. He turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the attic with tears streaming down your face.

Deep down, knew that without Tate, you’d be better off in the gutter. His presence was the only thing tethering you to the mess that had become your life, but it wasn’t enough to pull you out. That night, everything seemed so much clearer.

You made the decision.

Racing from the attic into your bedroom, your heart pounded in your chest. It wasn’t panic, but a strange kind of calm, like you had finally figured out the answer to a question that had haunted you for your time loving Tate. You went straight to the nightstand, hands trembling as you yanked open the top drawer. Buried in the back, behind half-empty tubes of lip balm and loose change, was the small box of paracetamol. You had kept it there in case of a fever, but that wasn’t why you reached for it now.

Sitting on your bed, the stillness of the room pressed in around you. One by one, you popped each pill from its foiled tray, their edges cutting slightly into your fingertips. You placed each one on your tongue, swallowing them dry, your throat burning as the bitter taste clung to the back of your mouth.

Once the last pill was gone, you sank back against the pillows, feeling the cool fabric cradling your head. A faint tune drifted through the air, a song you couldn’t quite place but one that felt familiar, almost comforting. Your vision started to blur, your head spinning gently, and your eyelids grew heavy. For a fleeting moment, you thought you felt Tate’s presence, like a shadow hovering beside you, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t try to stop you.

The world slipped away.

When you opened your eyes, everything had changed. You crawled out of bed, your limbs feeling light and weightless, but when you turned to look, your breath caught in your throat. There you were, your body, lying perfectly still on the bed. Peaceful. Almost as if you had simply fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.

For a moment, you stood frozen, staring at yourself, trying to make sense of what had just happened. There was no pain, no fear. Just a strange sense of detachment, like watching a scene play out in a movie.

Then, from over your shoulder, you heard it. A whisper.

“I told you death was painless.” Tate’s voice, low and familiar, curled around you like smoke. You turned to find him standing there, the ghost of a smirk on his lips, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite read. “You didn’t need saving, after all.”

You looked back at your body one last time, then turned to face him fully. Maybe he was right—maybe you didn’t need saving. But the decision had already been made, and now there was no going back.

Hand in hand with Tate, you walked into the darkness together, the world you had known fading away behind you.

In the end, your love story was not one of happiness or hope. It was a tragedy, a tale of two souls bound by love.

Tate was your Romeo, and you his Juliet.

[crowleys-bentley-and-plants]

Wilted Eden - a Crowley pov poem

inspired by @crowleys-hips poems :)

-

Vines warp around my throat

Crushing the air inside my lungs

Until I forget how to breathe

Until I cough up blood

That will water the garden you’ve sown

With your love

That has turned to poison under my touch

I tried to grasp the pieces, to mend what was torn

But my touch only worsened the scars I’ve inflicted

Upon your holy skin

The flowers that bloomed from your fingertips

Now tangled with my worthless soul

I choke on empty words that spread like weeds

Inside my mouth, a jungle grows

Thorns pressing on my tongue, my nostrils

And the insides of my eyes

And I can’t hold it back anymore

It spreads like fire, consuming everything it comes across

Oh, how it ruins, leaving nothing but ash

Why did you let it? Why didn’t you run away

When I reached my rotten hand for you?

Why did you stay and let yourself be made one with the ground?

And I can’t do anything but watch

As the garden fades to grey

As the petals fall, one by one,

Like feathers of a fallen angel

Until it’s naked, its skeleton revealed

Until there’s nothing left to hide away the ugly, nasty truth

Of everything I did to you

-

this is like one of my first free verse poems. ive always been told that poetry has to rhyme and that if it doesnt it's bad and ive been stuck inside this mentality for a long long time with my own poems. idk. i guess when you're told something enough times you start to believe it. but ive been trying to break free (I think you can kinda see it in my poems hahah) and this is the first genuinely free verse poem I hope you like it it has been a whole journey to get here hahah

Thank you so much for reading!! Reblogs and comments are really appreciated💙

read also on ao3:

hello lovely people @bearthewhipsandscornsoftime @fearandhatred @ghostsparrow @eybefioro @seven-stars-in-his-palm @ficreader500 @foolishlovers @sabotage-on-mercury @crowleys-curl @crowleybrekkers @notagoodlad @lickthecowhappy @di-42 @goodoldfashionednightingale @spookyllamatree @wanderer-main @ineffabildaddy

[mumms-the-word]

May prompts: I need borrowed clothing involving either ardynn/halsin or freyr/minthara

I was going to say “bold of you to assume Freyr can fit into Minthara’s clothes” and then I was like “oh wait” not that Halsin can fit in Ardynn’s clothes either but that’s what my brain gave my first lol

Ugh both are so good how am I supposed to CHOOSE? that’s a rhetorical question I know exactly what I’m gonna do

Edit: Also I’ve been informed that this event is meant to be written about other people’s Tavs and Durges but for the purposes of this request I'm just going to respond with a normal little fic!

But because I appreciate YOU I'm including some of your awesome photos of Ardynn in this :>

Story under the cut!! Warning, it is super silly.

~*~*~

Ardynn and Halsin had finally settled into their new home in the Reclaimed Lands, making a home out of a haphazard cabin that was formerly the ruins of a farmstead. To say that Ardynn loved her new life here was an understatement. She and Halsin had worked together to patch up the walls of the cabin, using a combination of old boards and climbing vines, mortal ingenuity and natural solutions. Thaniel had helped raise the collapsed roof of one room by growing a tree inside the structure, allowing dappled sunlight to stream in through the branches of the tree and the hole in the ceiling. Their home was a living home, built up and bending around a healthy tree and its roots, with flowering vines creeping up the sides and sunlight streaming in through the windows and roof. It was everything she dreamed it could be.

On this day, Ardynn was continuing to work on their home, arranging furniture and organizing their few (but growing) personal possessions. Halsin was out with the children, ambling about as a bear to give them rides on his back and play with them, and she didn't expect him back for some time. She sat cross-legged on the floor, folding away her clothes and his, thinking idly to herself that they would have to obtain warmer clothes for the winter.

After a moment, she picked up Halsin's leather and green fabric shirt, running her thumb over the patterns carved into the leather. He had taken the Emerald Grove emblem from the front a few days ago, so the front looked almost...empty. She wondered if there was something she could replace it with.

As she was examining the shirt, she noticed other markings she'd never noticed before. Pressed into the leather, near the collar, were little magic symbols, runes that were somehow familiar. After a moment of studying them, she realized they made up an enchantment to disappear or morph the shirt during his wildshapes, so that when he turned into a bear, or perhaps something even larger, or even stopped wildshaping halfway through to become a kind of hybrid man, the shirt wouldn't just rip into shreds.

She wondered...

She glanced over her shoulder, as if he might be walking into the door at any moment, and then stood up. She pulled off her own shirt and then hesitated, standing in nothing but her trousers, feeling silly all of a sudden. But the curiosity was greater, and she pulled Halsin's shirt easily over her head.

For a moment, it was comically large on her, the armholes alone big enough to fit several arms of her size instead of one. But then, just as she suspected, the shirt shrank down, fitting itself to her body until it pressed against her breasts and ribs. A perfect fit.

She moved to stand in front of a dingy-looking glass they had recovered from some wreckage a few days ago, turning this way and that. She had to admit, she looked pretty good with Halsin's shirt hugging her body. Add a few leather arm straps and maybe...

In the looking glass, she saw movement near the open front door and whirled just in time to see Halsin ducking into their home. She froze and then he froze, staring at her with eyes wide with surprise.

She didn't know what to say, and she could feel her face getting as red as her hair. This had to be the most embarrassing thing she'd ever done in front of him, bar none. But she couldn't move or unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

He blinked once, twice, and then lifted a hand as if going to gesture to her. "My heart. Is that..."

"I can explain," she blurted out, and that just made things worse because no, she couldn't actually explain. She wasn't just wearing his shirt, she was wearing his shirt that was now shrunk down and shaped as if it was tailor-made to her body.

Halsin closed the door behind him--something they rarely did except when they didn't want to be disturbed--and took a few slow steps forward. He stopped just a foot away, looking down at her. She held her breath as his eyes roved over her form, following the patterns on the leather and fabric as they curved over and around her body.

"It suits you," he said quietly. Huskily. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized that the look in his eyes was no longer confusion or surprise but...hunger. He reached up and skimmed his fingertips along her side, causing her to shiver. "In fact, I think you wear it better than I do."

She swallowed, trying to keep track of her thoughts. "I was just...I saw the enchantment runes and I..."

He didn't seem to hear her. He smoothed his hand down her arm, seemingly distracted by her. "I am tempted to let you keep it. But, I fear, it would become a distraction."

"A distraction?" she breathed.

A faint smile graced his lips and he leaned in, bringing his lips down close to her ear. "I shall be unable to think of anything but you in my clothing, my heart. Even now, it is difficult to focus."

Her heart began to race in her chest. As he pulled away to look down at her, she met him gaze for gaze and found herself torn between wanting to diffuse the situation (it was the middle of the day) and wanting to tempt him further.

Her baser nature won, in the end.

She tilted her head, trailing her fingers along the bottom hem of the shirt. "Should I...take it off?"

She felt a little proud of the way his eyes followed her fingers, only to glance back to up to meet hers, hazel eyes already faintly glowing with a thin ring of gold.

"Yes."

~*~*~

More pictures to cool everyone off 🥰

[glowstone23b]

warden/ancient city thoughts …

Anicent cities aren’t actually cities, they’re actually massive temples instead that devoted themselves to a certain god (im not sure what god the old builders would worship akandk)

They laid many people to rest in those underground crypts, that a bit of their souls leaked out of the bodies and infected the glowing cave vines, resulting in a strange mutation of sculk

and as more people died and got places in those tombs,,, the more sculk spread

Eventually some worshippers caught notice of this and assumed it to be some gift from the gods, so they continued to add fuel to it, experimenting with it, etc, finding out that when a creature dies— instead of the soul ascending to an afterlife, it is instead pulled down by the sculk and merged into what was like a sentient hivemind of connected souls working together to become something akin to an organism

At some point, as evolution of the sculk furthered and sculk sensors formed, it eventually led to a sculk shrieker

and after worshippers activated it a couple times in a row,

It summoned the massive, blind hulking beast known as the warden. It harvested as many souls as it could from the worshippers as it chased after them, leaving no one in it’s wake, before retreating back into the biomass until the next time there is a significant amount of soul that alerts the shriekers once more

Ok mini rant story thing over. i like to think that sculk works in a weird sort of method

Catalyst farm and form the extra sculk needed to begin an infection —> sensors pick up on sounds made by noises that supposedly could be creatures with a soul —> shriekers sound a scream that helps determine if a warden should form —> warden harvests any nearby creatures to help the sculk spread. if killed, the warden drops a catalyst, so it can all begin again

The warden itself is a weird amalgamation of human souls stuck together fused with the sculk. the main reasoning for it being blind (other than cave animals usually being blind since low to zero light requires little need for eyes) is because detecting sound means a very high chance of something w soul

Sculk sickness …. Possibly a rare disease only picked up by deep miners. nasty no good and probably hurts as the sculk eats you from the inside out

Illagers came across the ancient cities and set up camp for a short amount of time to try and study the sculk . you can imagine what happened to them

[ i like to think every ‘living’ creature in minecraft has a soul. that keeps them alive and thinking and breathing and stuff. and undead mobs have soul residue which leaves them with very basic instincts or things they subconsciously remember how to do ITS A FUN THOUGHT ]

[ in my little au illagers love experimenting w souls . because the more you experiment the more messed up results you get (vexes being the fused collective of 2-3 allays, or creating abominations via sticking two different mob souls together… possibly how ravagers came to be since they look a bit like villagers that got turned into beasts . fun theorizing ]

Hey invention? Phanon? I love your mind, it's wonderful. Have a drawing!

I've never drawn a warden before, mostly because it's been very daunting, but I think I got it out the way I wanted it to!! Sculk itself is kind of like... a fungus-y tentacle-y mixture, and i got some inspiration from the devil's fingers fungus irl! Really cool, I suggest giving it a look-see.

In my head, sculk would start off kind of like little eggs or pips or... whatever those things are... there's a name for it, when a plant or a cell decides to split off to make a new plant or cell? Mitosis? Bulbs? Plantlets? There's a word I'm looking for. Anyways. They'd probably grow mini sculk bits off of more mature ones so they can drop off and spread on their own, kind of like some types of succulent if that makes sense? Which explains the little sticky-outy bits on the wardens' horn things. Man, there's gotta be proper terminology for this, my brain is not finding the right words today.

They'd release some sort of bioluminescence when disturbed, and have an almost tar-like substance produced to trap smaller mobs (spiders, bats, etc.) that happen to wander too close, akin to fly traps. It wouldn't work as well for humans, but it's not uncommon to have your foot tugged on by some sculk in the hopes it can digest you.

I went off "The warden itself is a weird amalgamation of human souls stuck together fused with the sculk" because it's FREAKING COOL, so !!! Yeah!! I've got some of the larger/longer sculk tendrils used as arms and 'fingers' in a sense, though they're not all that precise in use. It just opts to smack the heck out of people usually. The bones in the shoulders and feet I thought were really cool on the in-game design, so I feel that the sculk would grow around any sorts of bones it had access to to keep a more stable structure. Keeping yourself upright if you're a soft mass of plantiness/fungus-yness would be a little tough, I think. Also, keeping bones close to the sculk might make it easier to tether souls together? Who knows!

It'd be neat to see what types of matter the sculk would attach to to form a warden-- it could be enderman bones, for all we know! Big and long and short and stubby, and all of the bones are in the wrong places. Using femurs for toes, or ribs for arms... it'd definitely not be fun to see in person.

Sculk sickness sounds SO NEAT TOO!!! I imagine you might be able to inhale it, like spores? Since it feeds off of xp or souls, you just keep fueling it once you're infected whether you like it or not. Does it have any cure, or would you have to have some sort of surgery to try to remove the existing sculk from your body? That'd cause a heck of a lot of complications, if it were to block anything internally. Wild, but neat to theorize about.

And YES on the experimenting with souls thing! Especially with the update so vexes look a lot more like allays-- definitely experiment material. I wonder how many more mobs are out there that we haven't seen because they haven't been made yet? Just mish mashes of any sort of soul they could get their hands on, inhabiting a body that doesn't feel quite right. Kinda interesting!

Thank you for sharing as always ily you rule. Your theories slap, may your inventory be full of diamonds or something. May the Nether's fire guide your way, idk. More piglin-y, as per my blog, lol.

[selunesdreams]

Somebody in the Hells Loves You

“Gale, I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, but what are you doing here? We haven’t spoken in years - we’re practically strangers-”

A bright white flash interrupted Florence, and she lifted her gaze to find a strange, tentacled ship tearing through the night sky.

“What in the hells?” Her body was frozen in terror. “Is that a-”

For once in his life, Gale was speechless, and as the ship rapidly approached, he cursed and grabbed Florence by the hand.

“Unless you want to see that thing from the inside, I suggest we run.”

Pairing: Gale x Named Tav/OFC

Summary: It’s been nearly a year since anyone has heard from Gale Dekarios. Once a promising mage, he now lives as a recluse, stripped of Mystra’s favor and cursed by netherese magic due to a well-intentioned but catastrophic mistake.

For Florence Ashveil, who left Blackstaff Academy years ago after circumstances thwarted her dreams of becoming one of the best and brightest wizards of her generation, the silence has been even longer. But when their paths cross again just as they are abducted by a Nautiloid ship, it seems they’ll have plenty of time to get reacquainted.

Rating: mature

Words: 3.8k

Tags: just-fucked-it-up-with-Mystra era Gale, slow burn, mutual pining, mysterious past, baggage, sexual/romantic tension Warnings: brief tangential mention of Astarion-related trauma, not graphic, viewed as flashback.

a/n: Welcome to my first Gale fic! The pipeline is real. This story is still developing, so I'm not sure how the rating/tags will be impacted. It's reasonable to expect some eventual smut. Sorry if you were waiting on the next installment of Forms of Imprisonment, I got distracted by this one but promise it’s coming soon!

There were countless times in Florence Ashveil’s thirty years of life when she complained she “ was in the Hells .” Secondary school, family reunions, her first breakup - her mother had chastised her on each occasion, explaining ad nauseam how everyone endures such things, that they don’t equate to suffering a place like Avernus. Once, during exams week, her second year at the Academy, she wrote the phrase in a letter home and received a pigeon from Cora Ashveil the next day.

“I pray you never truly experience the hells, Flossie, because I fear your poor tolerance for distress would set you up poorly for surviving them.”

If only her mother could see her now.

*Hours Earlier*

Florence perused the offerings of the crowded Waterdeep Market alone, following her usual Tenthday ritual. Hundreds of stalls and camped vendors shouted at passing visitors, vying for their gold. A few called out to her with flirtatious compliments, encouraging her to come closer or try a free sample, and she shook her head with a terse smile, keeping wary of thieves. Her fingers touched her coin purse several times to confirm it was still there. She stopped at her usual booth, inspecting produce with a frown as she tried to ignore the never ending voices screeching in her mind.

Check for worms, maggots - what if they’re infested with maggots and you don’t see-

Relief came as distraction - an ostentatious, familiar voice, chatting with a nearby vendor, as if incapable of stopping.

“Did you know the skin of a kiwi is just as edible as the rest of it? I had a friend from Snowdown as a child, his family had vines upon vines of the things growing-”

Gale Dekarios.

It had been roughly a year since the public had seen him, and even longer for Florence. The last time they were in the same room, he’d given her a wistful look as she carried her belongings out of the Academy, books tucked under one arm, her bag slung over the opposite shoulder. She’d kept her eyes downcast, and shuffled out the door as her mentor, Vajra Safahr, solemnly escorted her out. Gale had opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something, but quickly closed it and disappeared down the hall. Florence somehow found the idea of him pitying her more mortifying than the whispers as she left Blackstaff Academy for good.

So when she’d heard he’d become a recluse after an erroneous act of devotion to gain Mystra’s approval, she’d wondered if it had felt the same to him as it did her - to lose your chance at greatness because your weakness got in the way. There had been rumors he and the goddess were involved in romantically, beyond the magic and mentorship. The news hadn’t shocked Florence. Gale Dekarios, a man of massive talent with the Art, was also not difficult to look at.

And Mystra was…Mystra.

“Florence, is that you?”

He squinted in her direction right as she attempted to duck behind a fruit crate and clumsily, she dropped the cabbage she had been examining into the dirt.

“Shit.”

She stooped to grab it just as Gale’s fingers reached it, and he held it out in his palm, like some sort of offering.

Contaminated, filthy, don’t touch it, throw it away, throw it away-

“Gale! I-”

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten-”

“-such an idiot, head’s always somewhere else these days-”

They both fell silent, realizing they’d been nervously chattering over one another, and Gale placed his hand on her arm with a soft chuckle. The gesture was tender, unassuming, and a wave of warmth spread through her body in response. No one had touched her in years, save the occasional side-hug from her mother.

“It’s good to see you.” He said earnestly, with a thin-lipped smile as he stood from his crouch beside her. She caught something in his gaze, akin to pity, as he assessed her, and she felt sick.

“Likewise, I…how have you been?” She passed the produce vendor a few coins with an apology and awkwardly carried the cabbage as they stepped to a nearby wall to move away from the busy path.

“I spent most of the last year in my tower, essentially a hermit. Gets rather lonely, but I do at least have-“ he stopped himself and cleared his throat. “Apologies, I’ve…not spoken to anyone but my Tressym in quite some time.”

“I had heard, are you…well?”

“Yes, yes, everyone’s familiar with the rumors.” He waved dismissively, and a shadow crossed his features. “But how are you , Florence? Surely up to something magnificent. As I recall, you were talented with the Art, much more so than our peers…”

“Oh, I…I’m actually…” she released a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, “I have nothing impressive to report, honestly. I work at St. Laupsenn as a potions artificer.”

“St. Laupsenn, truly? I spent a little time convalescing there with a nasty case of ruddy pox. For all their kindness, leaving that place was a relief like no other…” He trailed off. “Surely there are other notable things happening in your life? Extracurriculars? Don’t tell me you’re wasting your talent brewing healing potions for a living…”

“I…have a shift at the Hanging Lantern a few nights every ten-day.”

As the words fell from her lips, Florence realized she’d just told him she moonlighted at one of the most notorious Festhalls in Waterdeep with no further context. She watched his face reveal all his thoughts as he processed what she’d said.

He blushed. “The Hanging Lantern? Ah - not what I’d expected, but I’m sure you - do you…?”

“Oh! Oh no, I hardly have the looks for that-“ she forced a laugh to displace her discomfort, “I play piano. Set the ambiance, you know, so they can do all the hard work.”

She swallowed and glanced over her shoulder.

“Of course! How could I forget! You always had a beautiful way with music, invariably working your craft into how you wielded magic. Truly creative, poetic, even…”

Florence had appreciated his verbosity, and never quite succumbed to the bitter jealousy her classmates had towards Gale. Perhaps he stumbled over words or bragged a bit too much, but at his core, he meant well. She believed that sincerely. However, as she stood in the middle of the market, she wished she was anywhere else as she made small talk with the renowned wizard.

“I ah…I apologize, Gale. You caught me at an inopportune moment. I have actually somewhere to be, but it was lovely catching up with you.” She placed a delicate touch on his forearm. “Perhaps we’ll cross paths again soon?”

“Yes, yes, I hope we do. Don’t let me keep you. It was a pleasure speaking with you.”

If he tried to conceal his disappointment, he did a poor job of it. Gods, he must have been so lonely this past year. She nodded politely and, as she change direction to leave, his smile faltered. She’d gotten several steps away before she heard him clear his throat and call after her.

“Florence?”

“Yes?” She turned, her mind focused on the produce still in her hands. Invisible dirt and grime on her fingers preoccupied her every thought. She yearned to toss it in the nearest bin as fast as she could and scrub underneath her nails until they bled.

“I…for what it’s worth, if you wanted to, I think you have the looks for anything. I’m sure you look lovely at that piano every night.”

She blinked at him as he turned and walked away without another word. Behind her, a rothé reached over the wooden fence of its pen and nibbled at her hand. She stepped away, startled.

“Here,” she said, extending the cabbage to it, “it’s all yours.”

The rothé accepted her offering and dropped it to the earth, grazing at it with appreciation. Florence wiped her hands on the waist of her trousers several times and walked home with an empty market basket and the makings of a headache.

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

He was in the crowd.

Gods-be-fucking-damned he was in the crowd. She should have never told him where she worked.

Florence set her sheet music on the piano, despite her lack of need for it. She’d memorized everything, but it gave her something to focus on, particularly on nights like tonight when she was prone to distraction. Typically, an over-familiar gentleman would question her about her personal life, or a fight would break out at the bar. Tonight, Gale Dekarios beamed at her and waved cordially from a booth.

Hells.

Surprisingly, the night progressed without incident, and she eventually forgot he was there. Once she’d packed her things into her bag and walked out onto the dimly lit street, Gale was leaning against the side of the tavern, arms crossed in front of him.

“Excellent musicianship.” He complimented her and pushed off the wall. “Apologies if my attendance was disruptive, it’s…been a while since I’ve been out or seen an old friend.”

Friend? She thought to herself. How loosely did this man define friendship? To seek her company. How lonely must he have been?

“Thanks…I rarely have people stop by to listen to me play. I’m more…background noise.”

“I did have to, rather awkwardly, explain my business there when I wasn’t interested in paying for…companionship, but it’s always good to get away from typical comforts…”

She stopped walking and turned to him.

“Gale, I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, but what are you doing here? We haven’t spoken in years - we’re practically strangers and-”

A bright white flash interrupted Florence, and she lifted her gaze to find a strange, tentacled ship tearing through the night sky. People screamed around them and the streets flooded with chaos as bodies collided with one another, stampeding towards hope of escape.

“What in the hells?” Her body was frozen in terror. “Is that a-“

For once in his life, Gale seemed speechless, and as the ship rapidly approached, he cursed and grabbed Florence by the hand.

“Unless you want to see that thing from the inside, I suggest we run.”

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

The tadpole wriggled in her brain like a slithering migraine while her breath fogged the glass of her containment pod. As she returned to consciousness, she kicked and slammed her fists against the window, desperately trying to break out.

A sphincter shaped gate opened across the room, splayed apart in a disturbing manner. Through the fogged window, she glimpsed a githyanki searching the room, trailed by a dark-haired woman with unfortunate bangs and…

Him.

“Help! Get me out! Please!”

Florence prayed her cries would make it through the thick walls of the pod, and to her relief, Gale’s head snapped towards her and he rushed over, investigating the exterior for any indications of weakness.

“There you are! Hold on!” He pressed a hand to the glass to reassure her, and she touched it from the other side.

He’d been looking for her.

Muffled by her vessel of containment, she heard the gith arguing with him, insisting they leave her to die. When he refused, the gith left on her own, and Florence couldn’t blame her. They were wasting valuable time.

She watched him run back and forth across the ship several times before he made any progress, the dark-haired woman lingering near the door until he returned to the pod with a triumphant grin and a strange rune. He inserted it into a nearby console and the seal broke and hissed. A mist rose around her before she was ejected onto her hands and knees, and she struggled to catch her breath, body convulsing as she vomited. Gale rushed to her side, dropping to his knees, and rested his hand on her shoulder with a grimace as she retched.

“Never thought I’d get you out of there.”

“Thanks for saving me.” She panted and wiped her mouth with the back of her arm.

“There will be time to debrief later. The ship’s crashing and if we delay any longer, we’re dead!” Shadowheart yanked Florence from the floor and shoved her towards Gale. He held an arm around her shoulders to steady her.

With a cough, Florence nodded in agreement. “Lead the way.”

They followed the woman through vesseled passageways, using Gale as a support until she got her bearings.

“I see you made friends.” She said as they dodged smoldering piles of ash and carrion as dragons soared dangerously close to the sides of the vessel, screeching and roaring as they set fire to the ship.

“That’s Shadowheart. I found her trapped in a pod, like you.”

“Enough dawdling! We are wasting time.” The githyanki shouted as they met her at the ship’s helm.

“And that’s Lae’zel.” He murmured.

Blocking their path, a Mindflayer fought a large cambion in, and Florence clutched her head as his voice echoed inside of her brain.

“Get to the helm, I’ll hold them back.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Gale said and drew an arcane gate for the four of them. He gripped Florence around the waist and pulled her through, letting go once they stepped through the portal, and began fumbling with the controls. As he did so, a brain with legs and claws scrambled up and stopped at Gale’s feet.

Florence’s eyes widened in alarm, and she instinctively took a step back. “What is that?!” she shrieked.

Gale, his attention still fixed on the console, replied, “I... don’t rightly know, but it seems to be on our side.” He paused for a moment, his brow furrowing. “It called itself Kitty at one point, but I pulled it out of a human skull, so I’m not sure if that’s a comfort.”

“Gods, I’m going to faint.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t.” Gale responded, and with a final flick of a switch, the console hummed to life, stopping the vessel dead in the air.

“Ha!” He said triumphantly, “See? Everything will be just-“

Suddenly, the ship jolted, emitting a loud creak, and darkness consumed all light in view.

“K’chakhi!” Lae’zel pushed Gale out of the way and studied the console. “You’ve cut the power. We’ll crash!”

“Brace yourselves!” Shadowheart warned. Florence searched for something to hold on to, but when the Nautiloid careened to the side, she slipped through the air with no hope of saving herself. Panic gripped her as she plummeted towards her certain death, the others falling just a few feet above her.

“Take my hand!” Gale’s voice cut through the chaos, grasping for her as they free fell. “There’s a transportation sigil on that rock below. I’ll try to get us there-”

His strained fingertips grazed her skin, and he seized her by the wrist. Midair. He seized her by the wrist and pulled her against him, transporting them from the sky to the arcane sigil. Suspended in time and space, Florence’s panic grew. Gale held her close enough that she could smell the cologne that lingered on his neck. An earthy, spicy blend of cedar, sage, and ginger. Just underneath his shirt, she caught a faint glow. Some sort of magically infused tattoo?

“My magic is…diminished, of late.” He confessed over the dull roar of the void. The sporadic swirls of light inside the sigil illuminated his grim expression. “I can only get one of us out. Find me and-”

She hit the solid ground with a thud before he even finished speaking, and the force knocked the wind from her lungs. Blinded by the sun, Florence squinted and threw a hand in front of her face, looking out at the vast body of water shimmering ahead of her. Time passed differently in magical planes, and it seemed hours had elapsed in the seconds the sigil had trapped them. Fortunately, Gale had transported her to this beach, and not an entirely different dimension.

She pushed herself up from the ground and clapped away the sand sticking to her palms. When she turned, she found the Nautiloid wrecked behind her. From the state of it, survivors were unlikely. She kept vigilant as she moved through the rubble, scanning her surroundings for any signs of Gale.

“I saw you. You were on that ship. You’re one of them.”

A pale, ruby-eyed elf with white hair darted into her path and drew his dagger. She raised her palms in a peaceful gesture.

“I fell from the Nautiloid, abducted, just like you.”

“Do you take me for a fool? You teleported!”

“I don’t have time for this,” Florence grumbled. She pushed past him and stormed up the beach and into the wreckage.

“Wait! Where are you going?” He shouted, too stunned to react.

Ignoring his protests, she wandered through the smouldering remains of the ship until a familiar, whooshing sound of a portal caught her attention. Florence exhaled with relief at the sight of Gale’s arm sticking out of the swirling violet hole.

“A hand? Anyone?”

Without hesitation, she grabbed his arm and pulled with all her strength until the portal spat him out. She fell backwards, and he landed on top of her, inadvertently pinning her down.

“Are you alright?” Concern etched his face as he stared down at her. “I hope I didn’t send you too far...”

“I’m fine, but Gale, what-“ Florence began, her words interrupted by a voice from behind.

“My, my. Seems you found your missing friend.” The elf from the beach was leaning against a nearby boulder, hand still on the hilt of his dagger. A clear warning.

“Ah, I didn’t realize we had company.” With an apology, he scrambled off of Florence and helped her to her feet before turning to the elf.

“I take it you too were the victim of a rather unpleasant ocular insertion?” Gale tapped his temple and brushed himself off, extending a hand. “I’m Gale, of Waterdeep-”

“I suggest you stow that hand if you’d prefer to keep it, wizard.”

“Lovely friend you’ve made already, Florence.” Gale mumbled and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets as he bowed his head to Astarion. “I’d advise you to stow that blade or I’ll have to- ack!”

A sharp, searing pain erupted between Florence’s temples. The world seemed to spin as visions, not her own, flashed before her.

You sat cross-legged in a tavern with a hand atop a young patriar’s, sharing a bottle of wine. His other hand touched your knee, and you kissed him, but your chest caved in with repulsion. You insisted he blow the candles out when you reached his room, and eyes open in the dark, you focused on one spot of light, cast from the window, until it was all over -

The vision stuttered and slipped away, fading into…

Darkness. Never ending darkness. Violet-black of the shadow weave swirling as the mark on your chest throbbed harder than your aching heart. You almost had everything, and you gave it all up to impress her. You failed, never good enough. She’ll never forgive you. She doesn’t want you. Nobody could want you, not if they knew-

Florence held her arms out, grasping for anything to anchor herself as another vision flooded her senses like a crashing wave. Her fingertips brushed against the coarse surface of the boulder, and she leaned on it for support as a surge of alien memories invaded her mind.

Swiftly maneuvering through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, you ran for your life, but it was too-

A thunderous crack suddenly filled her head, causing her to lose her balance and fall on all fours.

The woman at the piano was someone you thought you could have fallen for, once. Her chestnut hair fell across her face as she played, the soft curve of her half-elvish ears peeking through thick waves as her bottom lip jutted out. You recognized that look, the focus in it. Such talent, such promise. What terrible thing befell her? Why did she leave the Academy? You never got a goodbye, but perhaps it was foolish to expect one. But you approached her at the market because she was like a beacon of hope. Something familiar from your past that you wished you’d paid more attention to rather than-

“Ugh!”

As Florence regained consciousness, she blinked furiously to ease the pulsating burn in her head. Her tadpole seemed to wriggle with recognition, then settled, seemingly sated. She spared a glance in Gale’s direction. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his hand pressed tightly against his heart with a pained expression, as he avoided meeting anyone’s gaze.

“What in the hells what that?” The elf demanded.

“I think we were in each other’s heads…” she groaned.

“Well, it seems you were telling the truth, after all.” With an apologetic smile, he sheathed his blade and wiped his hands on his belt.

“Let’s start over. I’m Astarion.”

“Pleasure.” Gale responded sarcastically and stood with a grunt. Strategically, almost possessively, positioned between Florence and Astarion, he supported her as she rose from the ground, not turning his back to their new acquaintance. Once more, the peculiar tattoo caught her attention, visible beneath his shirt collar. It no longer glowed, but in the light she could see that it subtly connected to the crinkle of his eye, as if magic tunneled through the capillaries under his skin.

“Likewise.” Astarion said. “So, do you have any idea what these…things are in our heads?”

“Tadpoles.” Gale said, “It appears our minds are linked. Unless you know a healer, in a few days’ time, we’ll undergo ceremorphosis and become mindflayers.”

“Mindflayers? Ha… ha!” The elf cackled, “of course we will.”

“We should stick together until we find someone who can extract them. There were others on the ship. I’d like to see if they survived the crash as well.”

“The more the merrier.” Astarion’s demeanor was suspiciously cheerful, a stark contrast to their earlier interaction. Florence had worked in a Festhall for three years, she could easily spot a charlatan. But rather than press the issue, she chose instead to concentrate on surviving the night without becoming illithid.

They found Shadowheart unconscious on the beach as they wandered the debris in search of supplies. Procuring bedrolls, some abandoned packs from fishing posts nearby, and a few dinner rations, Gale suggested they regroup and rest until morning.

“Out here? In the wilds?” Florence picked at the skin around her thumb and glanced towards the burning ship behind them.

“Presumably, there won’t be a tavern for miles. I think we’re roughing it.” Gale’s expression seemed genuinely sympathetic, which came as a relief, because she felt quite high maintenance complaining under the circumstances.

Astarion edged closer to her, “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll keep you safe,” and she swore she caught a disapproving scowl on Gale’s face before he retreated to the edge of camp, explaining, with some urgency, that he needed to get a sending spell to someone in Waterdeep to check on his Tressym.

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

Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/feedback/constructive criticism (this is not peer read) and a kudos on AO3 if you enjoyed (or feel free to hate-kudos it, I won't mind.)

If you'd like, you can connect with me here on Tumblr or check out my Astarion fic (that features Gale), Forms of Imprisonment!

[astralexpressarchives]

The Sedition Timeline Theory: Imprisoned Version

I have spent way too many hours thinking about this video game, especially the High Cloud Quintet and the Sedition. For that reason, I'd like to make a post outlining the sequence of events that I currently believe is quite likely based on my interpretation of the evidence available as of now, Oct 7 2023.

This post will be using spoilers from the leaked Jingliu Character Stories.

Before the Sedition

1800 Years ago, Jingliu's home ship Cangcheng was devoured by the Incarnosphere revived by Shuhu.

In the dark sky, the demonic planet named Rahu was wailing and singing, descending upon everyone with mountain ridges and continents ablaze. On the streets, people were screaming. They struggled and rolled on the ground in the apocalyptic despair, allowing golden vines to sprout and grow feverishly their every orifice. She watched everything, unable to move. Her organs felt like they were boiling. Something suddenly burst out of her Core Esse like a ripe wheat grain about to erupt out of its casing and swell till infinity. However, the mountains crashing into her face made her recall that she was nothing but an insect, about to die from a tiny press of an Emanator's fingertip. In that spit moment before death claimed her, she grabbed the only flax next to her. A sword, 3 feet and 7 inches in length, weighing about 7 pounds.

Note here that the sword is actually the training sword given to her by her master earlier in the passage.

A short time afterwards, Jingliu is arrogant and is bested by an opponent in a war and rescued by her master. She blames the sword and she and her master have this conversation:

I don't want to learn the sword anymore. It's... useless." "Useless? It's pretty useful in my hands. It is the wielder who was useless." "..." "If you don't learn the sword, what do you want to learn? The alchemical arrows on the pilots' starskiffs? The blazing fire flung by divine crossbows? Or... The artillery of the Zhuming Xianzhou? Such instruments would also be enough to destroy that demonic planet. You want to learn about them? Fine. Those things can kill the enemy without even from beyond visual sight.""...I just don't understand why you insist on teaching me the sword!?" "From the general to the smallest pawn, every Cloud Knight starts by learning the sword. "The various constructs provided by the Artisanship Commission can certainly kill the enemy for you, but those deeds are to the merit of the material rather than the person. If there comes a day that the quivers run empty, that the starskiffs crash, that the aurumatons freeze — Who will protect you and I, then? Who will protect the Xianzhou? "Hold this sword. Remember, only when Cloud Knights wielding swords stride upon the battlefield themselves is humanity fighting our own war. We will demonstrate our victory to those inhuman abominations with our blood and ability instead of letting ingenia do the work for us!"

Take special note of how her master brings up "Who will protect you and I" in her explanation. I believe this is drawing a direct parallel to DH:IL 3 and setting her master up to sacrifice herself when everything is going wrong.

Just prior to the formation of the High Cloud Quintet, Baiheng is acting as an ambassador to Zhuming to request reinforcements. Here, she meets Yingxing when he is a young teenager and experiences visions from the 'ball of light rays.' From Views of the Universe from a Starskiff: The Xianzhou Zhuming:

Every ray of light from the "sun" is beating, as if undergoing intense turbulence. Or rather, like a raging suppression since ancient times, gnarling and gnashing as it tries to fight through to my consciousness. In an instant, a flood of scenes well up and rampage through my mind, like a book flipping pages in the wind: — A "tree" with no boundaries suspended from the heavens, piercing the starry sky. — A vacuum, inside which ships spew forth brilliant beams like fireflies chasing fire, flocking to fluctuating flesh. There are even winged humanoids, wings outstretched... — I hear the howl of a Cloud Knight and a starskiff moments before crashing down, "Defend the Xianzhou!" "Victory to the Cloud Knights!"... — A colossal aurumaton, towering hundreds of feet high as it stalks and strides, stretching out cold metal arms to interact with a giant gelatinous beast of meat, teeth, and countless eyeballs. — In the sky stand radiant warriors, holding spears and longbows radiating fiery death. Their every gene has been sculpted and filtered to grant them a strength and beauty surpassing that of even modern Xianzhou people. — Even more terrifying is that their bodies are covered in an unnatural flame, as if embodying their innermost courage and rage. They charge one-by-one, over and over into the formless void, never to return... "...Take this oath, and keep it forever!" the rays of light roared, leaving the ears ringing. "Everyone! Steel yourselves — and don't look directly at the Flint Emperor!"

These visions are about Lan the Hunt's battle against Muldrasil and the Wingweavers. Note that this is the battle where he utilized the Heliobi "sun" powers from the Flint Emperor to destroy the Arbor. You can read about his story in Annotations from Ode to Reignbow Path.

Sometime around year 7279, about 800 years ago, Jingliu forms the High Cloud Quintet (Yes, she is already 1000 years old at this point.)

In the first battle that the HCQ fought (or earlier), Dan Feng sealed a maddened and frenzied dragon within the Arbor as per DH:IL Character Story One:

He dreamed he was standing before a sacrificial altar, dancing and chanting. However, the songs and gestures were mere facades. The light emanating from his eyes and the storm roiling in his blood were the true forces at play. Casually, he wove the misty and foggy tide in Scalegorge Waterscape, sealing the maddened and frenzied "dragon" into the propagating giant tree. As the echoing roar streamed up into the heavens and dissipated, Scalegorge Waterscape will continue its peace for centuries more, and his duty was over. The ceremony ended, and he turned to look behind him. In the blink of an eye, the stairs he had stepped down from had become full of standing dignitaries with draconic horns and dressed like royalty. As if they were mirages in a mirror, each of them turned and their sleeves swirled with the motion, ready to leave one after another in a meticulously calculated arrangement. Innumerable, they formed a staircase to the sky, stretching into the never-ending spatial void. The faces of all these people would greet him every morning in his dressing mirror — That was his face. No, it was the face of the primordial, the original, the very first high elder. He smiled bitterly and covered his face with his palm, as if ascertaining whether he could tear off this mask and return it to its true owner. He could not.

Note the presence of all of his "ancestors" as well as the mists and fog. The storm was 'roiling in his blood' and I think this is literal because his blood is most likely the ancient Vidyadhara water.

DH:IL 2 We see how Dan Feng is forced to be. His duty is to destroy and be detached from empathy. His dragon heart speaks of insignificance yet his human heart aches for all those who have died.

The devastated borisins began to flee. He knew it was time to carry out the duty entrusted to him. So he let go — letting his consciousness disappear in storms and hails, letting thunder roar for him, letting tsunamis rage for him. He floated on top of clouds, watching the enemies getting swallowed by the watery abyss, and watching the land behind him. Many humans, Vidyadhara, and Foxians were eternally left there, unable to lay their eyes upon their home ever again. The dragon heart told him that it was but a small speck of dust brushed away from the world. Wars come with a price, but life will always thrive once more — the Vidyadhara are not the only branch of Long's Scions. However, his human heart ached for those comrades who, like him, had warm flesh and blood, and for those mortals who might have lived longer but now could return home nevermore.

During one of these wars, Jingliu's master dies. In Jingliu Character Story Part 3:

She doesn't have a master anymore. The woman in the military uniform perished on the battlefield and can instruct her no longer. Nor does she need a master anymore. She knows everything there is to know about swords. They are a part of her body. They are the intake and release of her breath as she walks and sleep. People call her the Transcendent Flash, the pinnacle of swordmasters, a once-in-ten-century hero. However, she knows that her sword is still not enough to "cut down the star in the sky" — Even if she is holding the greatest sword in all the Xianzhou...

Here she is mourning her master's passing and realizing that even the greatest swords are not enough to protect what you care about. I strongly believe Jingliu's master died as the last line of defense in a self-sacrifice to let Jingliu and others survive. The death of her master is the first 'wake up call' for Jingliu that she isn't enough yet.

The Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae

I think it starts with a war vs Shuhu because of this Vidyadhara Egg:

You gently tap on the shell of the Vidyadhara egg. It shakes nervously, and the scales on the shell open and close slightly to warn and drive you away. It used to be one of the guards in charge of watching the Ambrosial Arbor in Scalegorge Waterscape. For centuries, the ancient tree had been quiet as though it was in a deep slumber. Taking measurements of the tree every day with its comrades bored it to death. Who would have thought that the Ambrosial Arbor would wake up on that fateful day? Gigantic waves have swept it and its comrades away. In an urgent voice, it asks you about its comrades, but you have no answer.

I think Shuhu may have found a way to awaken the Arbor. Yueyuan also makes mentions of Denizens of the Abundance causing havoc in the Scalegorge before the sedition:

Hmph, first there was the bloody conflict against the Denizens of Abundance. Then the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae almost shook the Ambrosial Arbor to its core...

They won the war.

From DH:IL 3:

He dreamed that he parted the ocean's waters and came to the palace ruin depths, burying the remnants of his old friend's hallowed blood, or creating a new life that had not been seen for millennia — or, perhaps, those two actions were one and the same, an unattainable desire that could not be carried out for long years in the past, a final straw that broke the gargantuan dragon's back. The craftsman was covered in blood and wounds as he guarded the dragon with a sword in his hand. He urged himself to commit to the decision. "Shuhu is dead... we won, but how many more victories can we manage to achieve? How many more prices like this must we pay?" "Look, the Ambrosial Arbor still stands. So long as it is alive, the monsters... they can come back again and again. The war of the Xianzhou natives, Foxians, and Vidyadhara against the abominations will never end." "Yes, none of us are special! Each of us has only one life, sacrificing for this, dying for that... it's all our own choices. Just like how she chose to save you and Jingliu... just like how she chose to let more people live on!" War, and the lives that expired in the war, were living beings just like him. He shut his eyes wearily, remembering their faces, and made up his mind. "If there's a chance... we will also choose to let her and more people live on. We, the Vidyadhara, have our own way of salvation. I can give it a try."

I believe here that the old friend's hallowed blood is the special water blood of the dead Vidyadhara, the Azure Dragon, Long, or some combination. Creating a new life that has not been seen for millennia refers to the creation of a new Dragon life from the remnants of the dead dragon life that was unable to properly rebirth. Note that Vidyadhara MUST return to the sacred sea in order to form their shells and go through the hatching rebirth.

Yingxing talking about the prices we must pay is a callback to DH:IL 2 where he ponders the price of war, all the lives that are lost. This is especially devastating for Vidyadhara who cannot reproduce. Yingxing identifies that the Arbor is the cause of all the problems. I believe here that Dan Feng is planning to destroy the Arbor.

As previously mentioned, I believe the unnamed woman who died for 'You and Jingliu' is Jingliu's master.

Like an out-of-body experience, like a dream within a dream, he returned to the moment before his sense of self disappeared. With a cold and emotionless mind, he observed himself turning into a dragon, entangled and fighting claw-and-fangs against that bulb of shapeshifting shadow of flesh and blood. In an illusion seen on the verge of death, the emissary of the god showed him an unsettling, beautiful scene — the stars pulsated and sang hymns like red blood cells, and the universe descended into an abyss of flesh and desires. The dragon heart beat to its limit, raising its fangs, breath, and fury — however, no matter how mighty it was, a "lifeform" cannot defy the true body of god of life's envoy.

Note the presence of Yingxing still in the picture as the dragon transformation takes place. This indicates that the transformation is a continuation of the previous scene and NOT a flashback to a prior scene. His sense of self is disappearing because he is merging with the azure dragon. I would also like to note that the CN word here for Life is closer to the 'path of life/fate' meaning than the state of being alive.

...Until a starskiff ran everything through like an arrow shaft. He saw that girl crawling out of the ruins with great difficulty, lifting a "sun" of absolute darkness in her hand. In that fleeting eternity, he saw her hand disappear, saw her face disappear, and saw HER disappear — That item had ground everything around it into the finest dust and dragged them into a vortex of raw power, including that girl. A tuft of hair and a few drops of blood fell to the floor as evidence of her existence. Those were the only traces she left.

This is where Baiheng blew herself up. Note the use of the "sun" callback to Lan's story. I believe she was paralleling his story and attacking the arbor. Her explosion is likely the reason that the Arbor was so stumpy before the stellaron was inserted into it, causing new growth, in the current era. (The above picture is definitely after Lan shot it because the Vidyadhara did not appear on the Xianzhou until around year 4800 vs Lan's Muldrasil war in about 3400).

You gently touch the surface of the eggshell, and a searing and intense impact bursts out and surges right into your head through your fingertips. A hoarse and deep voice lingers by your ears. You see a heart with odd burn marks on its dry and withered surface. The fire in the distance is burning ferociously in an attempt to devour everything. A figure pulls another figure into their arms despite the danger. In the chaos, you hear some indistinct cries that also sound like the whispering between lovers. You think about the burnt elixir crucible that once tore the darkness apart. But now, not a single trace of light is in sight. You look down at the egg and finally notice it is not stained by the ash from the crucible, but just some dew that is somehow scorching hot.

This Vidyadhara egg mentions the elixir crucible, which is in close proximity to the Arbor. The elixir crucible relies on the water to function, so Dan Feng's spells may have caused it to cease functioning correctly and it was caught on fire in the attack. It talks about the fires in the distance and the figure that pulls another figure into their arms despite the danger - I think this could be referring to Dan Feng finding an injured Yingxing who was injured in the aftermath. It also talks about a heart with odd burn marks on it dry and withered surface - Dragon Heart Theory real? It's more likely than you think.

From here, I think Dan Feng is likely arrested by the 10 Lords Commission and sent to nice jail:

Those who are familiar with my previous post will know more about why I believe this is the location of the sedition. Note the presence of Preceptor Taoran and Oppenheimer - these character identities are confirmed in the description of the myriad trailer.

With Dan Feng locked up underneath the Scalegorge, Preceptors, specifically Preceptor Suguang, begin their angry letters to Jing Yuan who is now the general.

With the great calamity quelled, the voracious enemy subdued, and the treacherous rebels expelled, the Luofu has once again returned to peace. What a joyous day this is. My people have suffered much in this crisis. The wounded include 12 Preceptors, 253 Pearlkeepers, and 116 alchemists and healers. There are 1285 who have completely perished in this disaster, and over 3000 are still missing. While we lament these losses, we dared not forget our duty. Since the time of the High Elder Yubie, the Vidyadhara of the Luofu have shouldered the duty of keeping watch over the Ambrosial Arbor. However, when the disaster struck and the seals were loosened, all the elites of my people could not return it to its previous form. Therefore, we beseech the Six Charioteers to ask the Ten-Lords Commission to return the sinner Dan Feng to us, let him restore the seals, and mete out his punishment at a later time.

The mentions of the loosened seal are also interesting because in current times, Yueyuan tells us this about the sedition:

Then the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae almost shook the Ambrosial Arbor to its core...

Note that other language translation have 'shook to the core' closer translated to 'uprooted.'

Somehow, I think the Preceptors arranged for the creation of a new High Elder to replace Dan Feng whose fate was unknown to them.

It begins with Dan Feng drinking in the power of the moon and breaking free of his chains. This moon likely contains Long or the Azure dragon in an moon egg (a reference to Neon Genesis Evangelion which is a major inspiration for Hoyo). You can also see Long turn into a moon egg at the beginning of the myriad trailer, so the idea is definitely there.

This event is what brings about the Half-Draconic abomination.

Jingliu brings the cloud knights into the mountain realm:

I do explain why this hole in the clouds is the entrance of the mountain realm in my previous post but it's also reaffirmed in the picture on the sheath:

Also note how the hole in the sky is upside down relative to the moon and the birds flying - this is because the mountain realm is a reflected space as shown in this image inside the Exalting Sanctum's Realm-Keeping Commission building:

Next is the events from Jingliu Character Story Part 4.

Note Yingxing's black hair, implying he is definitely immortal or at least de-aged by this point.

She gasps, barely holding her wounded body together. Far away, deeper in the delve, there came the anguished roar of a dragon, as if a cry seeking deliverance. She watches as the arrogant craftsman falls into mud, and walks up to him like a wraith. "I should kill you first... but you will have your own torment to bear for all eternity..." She points the broken sword at the high elder. "Impossible. The Preceptors said... The blood of my race and the soul of my ancestor should have created another high elder. All this... It shouldn't be like this." "If your death can return everything to how it was, I would do it... But you need to tell me that dragon's weak point right now. "The top of its head..." The half-draconic abomination swims through the air in blasts of lightning. Its body, enough to swallow the very horizon, sunders yet another floating isle. Its wails are loud as the clamors of a thousand swords clashing. She feels her Core Esse boiling, like a ripe wheat grain about to erupt out of its casing and swell eternally. She sees herself trapped in childhood nightmares again. The ominous planet is swallowing her overhead, and she, but an insect, cannot even struggle. The woman tears off a spread of black silk from the edge of her skirt and covers her eyes. The thunder strikes. She leaps up with her sword towards the draconic abomination. In an illusion that feels half like a dream and half like reality, she feels her flesh has finally transcended its limits and has started to disintegrate. There are restraints binding her like strings, tightly wrapped around her limbs and organs, slicing apart her final shreds of self-consciousness bit by bit. Suddenly, she hears those words: "I will cut down even the stars in the sky." At that moment, she finally grasped the sword she had been seeking all this time. It is a sword that can transcend all restrictions. It is a sword she had been familiar with for years. It is not forged from any ordinary iron, but condensed from a shaft of sharp ice. It glows with a dim light, as if it is a strand of moonlight held in the wielder's hand. A sword, 3 feet and 7 inches in length, and weighs nothing.

From a Vidyadhara Egg:

You hear furious roars coming from the Vidyadhara egg and move your ears closer to hear better. A thunderous sound explodes from the mouth of an abomination, and fills up the Scalegorge Waterscape delve as if a thousand swords had clashed together. Every one of your bones rattle from the deafening sound. The abomination falls to the ground with a loud thud. You try your best to steady yourself before examining the abomination. Its semi-draconic head bears long whiskers and flowing beastly fur. You stare into its mercury-like eyes, sensing a hint of fear within them. You think of running away, but there is nowhere to go. The temperature in the air drops all of a sudden, as a shadow drifts past at a speed so fast that it only leaves behind a misty trail. A woman lands on top of the abominable dragon’s head. Her palms hold a ray of frosty light that she stabs downward. In a split second, you see the black veil covering her eyes falling off. Her lips move slightly, and you can faintly hear her utter the word "Sorry." That is not your imagination, as she is also apologizing to you. The next second, ice waves as sharp as knives start spreading like transient flowers in the air, freezing everything they come into contact with, including you.

At some point during the sedition, Dan Feng's own guard refused to betray Dan Feng and was killed:

You touch the shell of the Vidyadhara egg lightly and experience a heartbreaking sensation. Resistant to your touch, the Vidyadhara in the egg is reluctant to leave his memory behind and refuses to believe that his highly respected master has committed the grave sin of rebellion. Roaring, he holds his sword high and charges at the Cloud Knights again and again. He can see his peers whom he used to trust, and the Preceptors whom he used to respect clearly. Their despicable faces are etched in his mind forever. He does not wish to forget. "We… will never betray Master Dan Feng!" Together with the last remaining high elder guards, he braces himself to face the incoming arrows and darkness.

Dan Feng is arrested again and placed in a higher security prison with pins to suppress his power:

From DH:IL 4:

He dreamed of the Dracocatena Nails being staked into his body, and chains of corallium winding around him to hang him in midair in the Shackling Prison. He dreamed the elders coming and going to interrogate him about the truth of the Arcanum and the whereabouts of the dragon heart. He did not speak. He dreamed of the Judges coming before him to read their decision and wanting to sentence him to death. He did not speak.

After the Judges want to sentence him to death - like, proper death and not the rebirth kind of death - Venti intervenes. From An Appeal from the Vidyadhara:

According to the deal between the Alliance and Caelorum Venti of the Yaoqing, the sinner Dan Feng was to be spared from death and instead suffer the punishment of molting rebirth. After that, according to Vidyadhara customs, Dan Feng should have been regarded as a new being and his sins forgiven.

Jing Yuan brought him the news of his verdict (DH:IL 4):

He dreamed of the white-haired Cloud Knight Lieutenant coming to visit him and bringing him news of the Lieutenant's negotiations. The Vidyadhara did not permit him to die, nor did they permit him to leave. He did not speak.

In Oblation Obtained, Order Ordained, Jing Yuan explains this:

Do you know something? When Dan Feng committed his great crime, the Ten-Lords Commission advocated strongly for him to be destroyed. The Vidyadhara, on the other hand, were split evenly in their favor and disfavor of the motion. Haha, the dragon transmutation inheritance was not intact, after all. The senior Vidyadhara hated you, yet did not dare to kill you. The Vidyadhara were under great pressure. In order to placate the Ten-Lords and Sky-Faring Commissions, they performed an exuviation charm on Dan Feng against his will. Still, they ensured that the charm contained a flaw, thinking that this would fool the Ten-Lords Commission. Hmph, the senior Vidyadhara were sure of their scheme, but you cannot hide fire with paper.

After a few centuries living as Dan Heng in the Shackling Prison, Jing Yuan arranges for him to be freed:

Brighter than the Sun Lightcone:

From birth, all that ever lay before him was but a lightless dungeon. To this darkness, irrelevant sins bound him… irrelevant memories engulfed him. He writhed, gasping for breath with every fiber of his being, attempting to clasp a sliver of light in this fathomless ocean. Until the day the general stepped into the lightless depths of this prison, he beheld a radiance shining brighter than the sun – the gaze of a young man.

The Vidyadhara Preceptors, specifically Preceptor Shaoying, were angry about Jing Yuan arranging for Dan Heng to be exiled rather than kept eternally imprisoned. From An Appeal from the Vidyadhara:

I was alarmed to learn that you had signed an exile order to permanently cast out the sinner Dan Feng from the Luofu. Wherefore do you place the reputation of the Luofu's Vidyadhara with this order, general?

However, the Ten-Lords Commission detained him under the guise of educating the young man, while keeping him prisoner in truth. We have endured this for so long due to the truly astounding nature of his sin. Were he not to suffer for some days within the Shackling Prison, the multitudes of Luofu residents would not be appeased in their anger. However, general, you have arbitrarily terminated his sentence and decided to exile Dan Feng. Was this a consensus reached after a discussion with the Six Charioteers? And was this sent to the marshal to be confirmed? If your action stemmed from your past friendship with Dan Feng, then we regret to inform you that we cannot accept such a sentimental gesture. Us Preceptors will appeal to the Alliance and inform the other four High Elders, and we will seek to have you retract this order.

"The Vidyadhara handed us thousands of letters of appeal during the past few centuries... and this one has the harshest wording. They are running out of patience." — Qingzu "The exile was approved by the Ten-Lords Commission. Since Dan Feng had already been reborn and his sins are to be forgotten, why won't the Preceptors allow him to leave this troubled place...? Interesting."

A few more interesting notes

The preceptor assembly chronicle fragment gives some insight into the mentality of three of the preceptors. It more or less says that without Dan Feng (or a High Elder in general) around they seem to be in agreement about ruling as a council, which it can be assumed they were doing up until the creation of the Bloomborn Scion which I discuss in this post.

There is a Vidyadhara Elegy: Insight on "Six Charioteers Adjudicating the Imbibitor Lunae document that is questionable in it's reliability but gives decent insight into the attitudes of the Dan Feng loyalists at the time. They seem to believe that he was strongly rebelling against the Six Charioteers to a point of begging Lan to destroy the Xianzhou.

Another interesting note is that, so far at least, Jingliu's crime is unknown. She was not marastruck until the was already arrested a year after the sedition. As far as we know, she was still an honored person at the time of slaying the half-draconic abomination. It's not clear what she did but her crime was severe enough to get her name removed from the public record. And considering Dan Feng did NOT get his name removed as far as we know, her crime was most likely very severe especially considering how much she could probably get away with because she was the honored sword champion and hero of the Xianzhou.

We also don't know how Yingxing became 'exiled.' He was definitely tortured by Jingliu leading up to his exile, but Yingxing's name is still honored on the Xianzhou so his crimes were never severe enough to get his name removed from the record. It's unclear how the left the Xianzhou and how he lost his memories. Because he had black hair and was unkillable at the time of still defending Dan Feng in Jingliu 4, it can safely be assumed that the process of becoming immortal did not automatically make him lose his memories.

Dan Feng's crimes did NOT include the crime of involuntary immortalization implying that he did not make anyone immortal who was not already willing. This means he did not make Yingxing immortal against his will and he likely did not attempt to resurrect or convert a dead friend into an immortal race.

Anyways this post is very long and I've probably forgotten something but I'll also most likely make an updated version when we get more information. There are a few very possible variations of this timeline but this is the one that currently makes the most sense to me.

[jjcocker]

ok hi dumping Thoughts bc im actually not normal abt sprunki. And also yhis is more on vineria and her horror version. Guess who my favorite is/silly

while it id confirned a plant grew inside of vineria How exactly did itndo that? was she slowly dying? Like already showing somr weird signs like. feeling sick or something? Like feeling a wholeass plant grow inside you till one day it just GORGES your fuckin eyes out must be painful. I like to think she started feeling like. sick or something. coughibg blood and maybe a headache. or maybe she was feeling some pain in her eyes. Like something was "poking it from behind". Yes this is like for foreshadowing. She had gardening as a hobby so she must have known what appendages were cooking up inside of her right? Right?? idk what type og plant can. do that (of theyre real)(and if theyre not idk what would rlly matter there) so let's just say that plant was just. Unknown. some unknown plant-like Thing has grown inside of her. oh wait. plant LIKE. is the Thing exactly A Plant? or is it like.. onlt remotely similar to one? is it like some invasive species that needed somewhere nice to grow and maybe like, vinerias body was perfect for its conditions? idk. I just like to think that the plant started to grow inside of her, most definitely hurting her organs (DUH it was probably poking her insides even before dying) (plus i mean its unknown which Plaht this is) before it started getting worse and worse. And Then She Died. I'm also thinking abt the overgrown au (funny how this mod has an au already Dhjffkfj) bc like. Maybe that plant wasn't done yet. it was a species that needed to Grow with multiple hosts and the sprunki were a Perfect place for the plant to grow more in. since vinerias vine wig rots in her horror version I think that she also slowly rots the more sick she gets. She doesn't get to do what she likes now that I noticeit. What she liked (plants/gardening) was the death pf her

[erebusbabylon]

Threads of Fate Chapters 7 and 8

Find chapters 5 and 6 HERE

Notes: No warnings for chapter 7, chapter 8 has some mentions of naughty things but nothing outright smutty.

CHAPTERS 7 AND 8

Chapter Seven: Miroden's Welcome

The sun rose over the horizon, casting a soft glow that illuminated the village. After a restful night, you felt rejuvenated and ready to embrace the next leg of you journey. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the inn, promising a hearty breakfast. As you joined the guards for breakfast, they shared their plans for the day.

“We’ll leave early to reach Eregion by midday.” One of the guards said, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

"I'm looking forward to it!" You replied.

After breakfast, you set off once more, the path winding through lush forests and over gentle hills. The air was crisp and fresh, filled with the scent of pine and wildflowers. As you walked, you felt a growing sense of connection to the land, each step bringing you closer to you new home.

As you approached the border of Eregion, the landscape transformed. The trees grew taller and more majestic, their leaves shimmering with a silvery hue. The sound of rushing water filled the air, and you could see the glint of a river weaving through the valley below.

“Look!” One of the guards exclaimed, pointing ahead. “Eregion is just beyond that ridge.”

With renewed energy, you climbed the final hill. As you reached the top, you gasped at the breathtaking view before you. Eregion sprawled out like a dream, its buildings glistening like jewels under the sun. The architecture was a stunning blend of nature and craftsmanship, with structures that seemed to rise organically from the earth, adorned with intricate carvings and delicate arches.

“Welcome to Eregion.” The second guard said, his voice filled with pride.

Upon entering the city, you were greeted by friendly faces and curious glances. The inhabitants moved with an elegant grace, their laughter resonating in the air like a melody. The guards led you through the bustling streets, where artisans displayed their crafts, and the scent of exotic foods filled the air.

“Here is the marketplace.” One guard explained as they paused to watch a group of elves weaving intricate tapestries. “You’ll find everything you need here, from healing herbs to beautiful trinkets.”

As you wandered through the market, you felt a sense of wonder. You could spend hours exploring, each stall offering something new and magical. A stall selling vibrant potions caught your eye, and you approached to admire the shimmering liquids within delicate glass bottles.

“Ah, a newcomer!” The vendor said with a warm smile. “Welcome! Care to try a potion? Each one has its own special properties.”

Before you could respond, the guards gently reminded you of their schedule, and you continued on your way. You felt a pang of regret but knew there would be time to explore later.

Your journey led you to the heart of Eregion, where the grand hall stood—an architectural marvel. Towering columns adorned with intricate carvings reached toward the sky, and the entrance was framed by beautiful flowering vines.

“This is where you’ll meet the master healer.” One of the guards said, gesturing for you to enter.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside. The hall was filled with natural light streaming through large windows, illuminating the space with a warm glow. A gentle hum of conversation surrounded you as groups of elves discussed various subjects.

At the center of the hall stood an elegant elf with long silver hair and piercing blue eyes. He exuded an aura of wisdom and grace. As you approached, the elf turned and smiled warmly.

“Welcome, my dear." He said, his voice soothing like a gentle breeze. “I am Miroden, the master healer. I have been expecting you.”

“Thank you for having me. It's an honor." You replied, feeling quite nervous.

“Come, follow me.” Miroden said, leading you deeper into the hall. You glanced back at the guards, who nodded encouragingly, and then followed the master healer.

As you walked, Miroden began to explain the teachings of Eregion. “Here, you will learn not just the art of healing, but also the connection between nature and the spirit. It is a path of discovery, and I am here to guide you.”

You felt your heart swell with excitement. This was what you had come for—the opportunity to learn, to grow, and to connect with your elven heritage.

As you entered a large, sunlit chamber filled with plants and herbs, Miroden gestured to the vibrant greenery surrounding you. “These are the foundations of our healing practices. Each plant holds its own magic, waiting for you to uncover its secrets.”

You walked around the room, taking in all the sights and smells of the herbs, plants and flowers that adorned the shelves.

"I know your journey has been long, relax and settle in tonight. Tomorrow we will begin your studies" He said.

"Where is the Lord of Eregion?" You asked. "I think it only proper I introduce myself as soon as possible."

"I am afraid our lord, Celebrimbor is away. He is visiting with the dwarves of Khazad-dûm. He should be back tomorrow. I will take you to met him then. I know he is eager to meet the future queen of Lindon." Miroden smiled.

You blushed at the reminder of your impending role as queen. "I look forward to beginning our studies together, Master Miroden."

"Come, follow me. I will show you to your chambers. I am sure you are eager to rest." He said leading you out of the room.

As you followed Miroden back through the grand hall and outside into the courtyard you realized just how tired you were. The nervous energy you had been carrying with you since first leaving Lindon had finally eased. It was replaced by a deep fatigue.

You passed back through the market and into a large stone tower. Inside the tower you spotted the guards who had accompanied you to Eregion.

"Oh, hello!" You said excitedly. "I did not expect to see you both again."

"We will stay here tonight, and then leave for Lindon at first light." One of the guards said.

"May I ask a favor of you both?" You inquired. "Can you deliver a letter to the High King for me? I can bring it to your rooms later tonight."

"We would be more than happy to oblige." The guards said. "Seek us out on the second floor tonight, we will take your letter to Gil-galad personally."

You thanked the guards and continued up the staircase, following closely behind Miroden.

You finally reached your chamber on the sixth floor of the tower. The view from you room was breathtaking. You could see the market below, and the gorgeous lush forest beyond the walls of Eregion stretching out towards the horizon.

"I hope it is to your liking, my dear." Miroden smiled. "If you require anything, please let me know."

"It's perfect, thank you." You replied, smiling brightly.

"I will see you tomorrow, try and rest. I have an exciting day planned for you tomorrow." Miroden's eyes were twinkling with a hint of mischief.

After Miroden took his leave you began unpacking your things. You took out parchment and ink and sat at a large, wooden desk that was placed in front of the window. You were very eager to begin writing a letter to your beloved Gil-galad.

Chapter Eight: A New Beginning

As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, you settled into your new chamber. The gentle rustling of leaves outside you window created a soothing melody, inviting you to embrace this new chapter of life. You glanced around the room, taking in the elegant furnishings and the soft glow of luminescent flowers that adorned the shelves.

Sitting at the large wooden desk, you spread out your parchment and dipped your quill into the ink. Thoughts of Gil-galad filled your mind, and you began to write:

My Dearest Gil-galad, As I write this, I find myself in Eregion, surrounded by beauty that feels almost otherworldly. The village is alive with laughter and music, and I am beginning to feel a sense of belonging here. The journey was pleasant. The guards you chose to escort me proved to be excellent companions. We stayed the night at the little village near the edge of Eregion. I could not help but think back to the summer night we spent together inside your tent, overlooking the village and inn that lay below. When your guards and I discussed Eregion, I admitted I had been, but told them I was far to ill to leave my chambers during our brief visit. However, you and I both know the real reason I never left my chambers...and the more I think back to that night, the more I long for you. Do you remember the countless love marks you left on my body? I was covered! I felt far too embarrassed to leave my room after the way you left my neck, shoulders, chest, and thighs… Just thinking back to that night sends a wave of longing for your touch. I miss you dearly. Master Miroden has welcomed me warmly and has promised to guide me well in the arts of healing, and I am eager to learn. I will met Lord Celebrimbor tomorrow. He was not in Eregion today, but I am told he will be back tomorrow. I hope he is as welcoming as Miroden has been.  Though my heart still longs for Lindon and your embrace, I know this journey is essential for my growth. I will bring back stories and knowledge that will benefit our people. I promise. I miss you desperatly and cannot wait for the day we reunite. Thinking of you always.

You placed the quill down, your heart swelling with emotions. The letter felt like a bridge connecting you to Gil-galad. After folding the parchment carefully, you tucked it into an envelope, eager to deliver it to the guards later.

As night fell, the sounds of the market below began to quiet, replaced by the soft chirping of crickets and the distant murmur of the river. You took a moment to gaze out of your window, letting the breathtaking view wash over you. The moon cast a silver light over the landscape, illuminating the intricate beauty of Eregion.

A soft knock interrupted your thoughts, and you turned to see Master Miroden standing at the door. “May I come in?” he asked with a warm smile.

“Of course, Master Miroden.” you replied, inviting him inside.

“I know I said I would see you tomorrow, but I wanted to check on you before the night settles in.” He said, stepping into the room. “How are you finding your new home?”

“It’s incredible." You said, your eyes lighting up. “I can hardly believe I’m really here. The village is so vibrant, and the people are so welcoming.”

Miroden nodded, his expression pleased. “Eregion has a way of enchanting newcomers. Embrace this new chapter with an open heart, and you will not be disappointed, I am sure of it."

You smiled warmly at Miroden. "It is quite enchanting!"

“Now, I won’t keep you from your rest.” He said, glancing toward the window. And if you have any questions or concerns, do not hesitate to seek me out. I am here to help.”

With that, he bid you goodnight and left the room. You felt comforted knowing that you had someone like Miroden to guide you.

[pocket-sized-nightmare]

here's my entry for day 3 of @mcyt-yuri-week! today's prompt is "qpr/aromance"

Pearl loves so many things about her alien base, but if she had to pick a favorite, it would be the plants.

She’s spent hours tending to them, figuring out how to keep them alive, and discovering what makes them unique. Some fill the air with glitter, some respond to her touch, and some even glow in the dark. There’s something beautiful about every plant in her biome, and that’s even before she collects the best part: the fruits. There are nearly a dozen edible plants that grow wild around her base. She’s learned what they taste like and what her favorites are, and now, she’s learning how to use them in recipes.

After all, a midnight picnic with her partner deserves something special.

As the sun goes down, Pearl returns to her house with a basket of alien fruits. Gem said she’d make sandwiches and cake for the picnic, which leaves Pearl to make drinks. Luckily, she’s spent the last few months perfecting her boba tea recipe.

It starts with tea, of course. Pearl puts a pot of water over the fire to boil, then adds the holographic blue flowers and heart-shaped leaves she dried herself. Next up is the boba: juice-filled orange orbs from the center of flowers and sweet, squishy white seeds from inside the sparkle pods.

Mailbox wanders into the kitchen and nuzzles against Pearl as she cuts the first pod open, sending a burst of sparkles into the air. “Well, hello there, Mailbox! A little curious, are we?”

Mailbox barks. Pearl chuckles as she scoops the seeds out of the pod and drops them into a bowl. As she cuts another pod open, Matchbox races in and curiously tries to jump up to the counter. Pearl laughs out loud. “No, you goofy pup, you cannot have my fruit.” She gently pushes Mailbox back down to the floor.

Pearl mixes the seeds and orbs together in the bowl, then divides the mixture between two bottles. The tea is finally ready, so she takes it off the fire, sweetens it, and leaves it to cool. It shimmers in the light of Pearl’s kitchen, shifting from blue to orange to pearlescent white. It’s perfect. All she has to do is add the fruit flavoring, and it’ll be ready to surprise Gem—

Matchbox, Mailbox, and Tilly all leap up and run to the door, barking excitedly all the way. Pearl puts her cooking tools down and follows them. “Do I have a visitor?”

She opens the door to find GeminiTay standing in front of her.

Gem looks perfect. There are sunflowers in her braid and vines woven around her antlers. She’s wearing her favorite dress, the one that makes her look like a woodland elf. Pearl is suddenly self-conscious of her own fruit-stained overalls. “Oh, gosh, you’re early! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. I’m not quite ready yet…”

“That’s alright! I actually…” Gem smiles sheepishly. “I knew you’d be cooking for the picnic, and I kinda just wanted to hang out with you.”

Pearl’s heart melts. “Of course! I was trying to surprise you with boba, but now we can make it together.”

As Gem steps into Pearl’s base, all three of Pearl’s dogs leap around her. Mailbox leaps up and puts his paws on Gem’s chest, accidentally knocking her to the ground, and Matchbox curls up on Gem’s stomach. Tilly trots over and licks Gem’s face, then looks up at Pearl with an expression of aren’t I a good dog for not knocking her over? From the ground, Gem laughs so hard she cries.

Pearl laughs too, then tries to catch her breath. “No! Bad dogs, all of you. Get off of her.”

“Aw, don’t worry, I know they’re sweet.” Gem sits up and pets Matchbox’s head. “So what were you saying about boba?”

“I was just making some!” Pearl grabs Gem’s hand and leads her into the kitchen. “Although I should warn you, it isn’t exactly a normal flavor.”

“What is it, then?”

Pearl winks. “You’ll see.”

When Gem sees Pearl’s collection of ingredients, she stares. It’s like nothing she’s ever seen before. “Pearl, this is amazing! What are all these?”

“100% genuine alien flora, straight from my personal garden,” Pearl says with a flourish. “That’s a lie. They grow wild all over my biome. But they are alien plants.”

Gem laughs. “Only you, Pearl.”

“Aw, you love me.” Pearl elbows her.

Gem leans her head on Pearl’s shoulder. “Of course I do.”

They smile at each other. Pearl can’t help but gaze at her partner for what has to be the ten-thousandth time, studying every detail she’s come to love. Gem’s emerald green eyes shine in the light and reflect the stars from the windows, and the white freckles on her face highlight the blush on her cheeks like constellations. She’s brilliant and beautiful, and Pearl can’t help but stare at her – not quite the way she’s heard others describe romance, but like looking at a beautiful meteor shower or an artfully arranged bookshelf. Gem isn’t “just a friend,” but she isn’t exactly a girlfriend, either. She’s just Gem, and Pearl is just Pearl, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So,” Gem says, bringing Pearl out of her thoughts. “What’s the next step with this stuff?”

“Funny you should ask!” Pearl reaches into her basket and pulls out a remarkably spiky fruit. Its shape has too many sharp points and wild edges to be natural, but it somehow exists anyway. “All we need is to cut this thing open and mash it up.”

“Are you sure it won’t attack us?” Gem teases.

“Nah, they’re only called firework fruits because of the shape. They don’t actually explode. Unlike the sparkle pods.”

“Unlike the what?” Gem shakes her head in amazement. “Pearl, your base this season is something else.”

“Why, thank you very much,” Pearl says with a joking bow. “Anyway, it’s easier than it looks. Want to do the honors?”

“Gladly.” Gem picks up a knife from the counter and weaves it between the fruit’s spikes, then presses down. It breaks into two neat halves, revealing orange flesh swirled with streaks of white. “That looks… weirdly delicious.”

In response, Pearl picks up a spoon, scoops up a bit of fruit from the inside, and pops it into her mouth.

“Hey, save some for the tea!” Gem laughs. 

Pearl takes out another spoon and hands it to Gem. “Okay, fine,” Gem says. “I’ll have some too. Just to make sure it’s good.”

Gem takes a bite of the firework fruit. It tastes strange, but good – a bit like saltwater taffy. “That is delicious, actually,” she mumbles through her mouthful of food.

“Help me mash this stuff up?” Pearl asks, taking half of the fruit and scooping its insides into a bowl.

“You got it.” Gem does the same. “You could totally use this as a weapon.”

“Or for a really dangerous game of volleyball.”

“What?”

Both of them dissolve into laughter. Pearl takes the bowls of fruit and mixes them with the holographic tea, then pours the mixture into the two bottles.

Gem looks over at the drinks. The tea shifts from blue to orange every time she looks at it, and the swirls of color light up the parts of her mind she’s trained to focus on perfect color palettes. The drink is nearly as pretty as Pearl is, and that’s saying something. “Did you mean to make the colors like that?” she realizes.

Pearl’s eyes widen. “Like what? Is that bad?”

“No, it’s…” Gem takes out her communicator and shows Pearl a sticker she’s recently added to her collection on its case. It’s a heart with stripes of orange and blue connected by white in the middle, the same set of colors Pearl’s decorated a thousand things with – the aroace flag. “It’s perfect.”

“It is perfect!” Pearl beams. “I didn’t even do that on purpose. That’s amazing, though, now that you say it.”

Pearl hands Gem a bottle of tea with one hand, then takes Gem’s other hand in hers. “So, then. About that picnic?”

“Sounds perfect to me,” Gem says. She leads Pearl out to the perfect spot at the top of the hill, with Matchbox, Mailbox, and Tilly trotting behind them. They set up their picnic, illuminated by lanterns and moonlight. For anyone who doesn’t know, it looks like a perfect date, or something straight out of a painting.

For them, though, it’s just Pearl and Gem, partners and partners-in-crime, having a midnight picnic together.

What could be better than that?

[girl-mercury]

"My parents didn't believe in magic spirits, so the spirits took their revenge through me," the Beast said, once the curse had broken, leaving a man in the place of the extraordinary person Beauty had come to love. He did not speak of the night the spirits transformed him, or the way the castle had become a dark entity of its own as it tried to defend itself. The grand house's enchantments, however, were not unknown to Beauty.

---

The house sleeps.

How long, it doesn't know. Why would it? It is a house, even if a magical one. Even if it is filled with a watchfulness from those who became a part of it. What are years, to a castle meant to stand at least a thousand of them?

Much easier to measure in generations, and those too are fleeting and confusing: there is a boy, who is then a man, and then maybe the same man, or maybe his own grandson with the same sad eyes and hard mouth.

Some number of centuries pass —father, son, son's son— before the calamity strikes. The house does not know what calamitous event struck, and wouldn't care if it did, but all in a moment it was wounded profoundly. The house was made to shelter and protect its family, a source of utter safety from attack without or destruction within. Its entire purpose, devastated in under a minute, robbed from it by inconceivable powers.

The house spasmed in its distress, flailing, blind to those it struck. It could have sunk into the earth, but the earth had no mercy for it either. Some of the court made it out alive, fleeing to end up at a faraway summer palace. Most were caught in the maelstrom of magic and madness. They melted into the floors, the walls, screaming unheeded screams as their skin turned stony and they sank out of sight, losing themselves to the larger structure. The only evidence, once all the occupants of the house had been subsumed, was in pieces: arms extending from walls, faces in the mantle, furniture with queerly anatomical legs.

And then, all was silent, and the house consumed nothing more, for there was not one living person left in it. The only thing drawing breath within those walls was some strange creature, a small beast, curled up and quivering in fear. But it was just a beast, and the house tended to take even less notice of those than the fast-moving humans.

So there the house would stand, sleeping, a sea of unquiet souls stirring in its mad stones. Its vines would grow through the windows, and the gardens would grow wild, inside and out. The wealth within it would be covered in dust and tarnish. Animals roamed the grounds and made their nests outside, but never entered the house. Something in them knew to avoid it.

The one beast who dared sleep under its roof prowled lonely and unloved, trying to remember if it had ever known affection, or eaten hot seasoned meals, or been a person. That time seemed like a dream, and its dreams were getting overtaken by visions of hunting and blood. It would wander the house when not occupied with hunting outside, and sniff the clothes left hanging in wardrobes, the smell so evocative of some life it couldn't quite recall.

It would be many years before it would begin to recall anything at all.

[jukebox-arts]

Chapter 7

The breadth of knowledge that Sun found himself lacking was far more vast and profound than he ever imagined. In merely a shake of the day–-or roughly 100 minutes to anyone not on Adir Standard Time–-he’d been introduced to no less than twenty different variations of wild grass, four edible roots, and six ‘trust me, don’t touch it’ varieties of leaf and flower that he’d never heard of, let alone seen before. Jenn was more than willing to explain each of them with enough prodding, he found, though he felt just a bit guilty about regularly pinging Moon with a distance reading to enable his brother’s paranoid snooping. Despite this, he found himself to be enjoying the outing.

It was fun !

Just as well, it was a chance to try and understand the odd human just a bit more without Moon breathing down his neck with words of caution. I love you dearly, my brother, but there are days, he thought to himself with a touch of shame for being harsh, even if it was just to himself. Though I’m not helping I suppose…

Sun sighed.

“You alright?” Jenn lifted her head from the shrub she was picking through, wiping her brow with the back of the glove on her organic arm.

He hadn’t realized he’d made a sound. “Oh! Yes!” Quickly, he picked his way over the tangle of roots and dirt, amused at how it felt like steps to a bizarre dance at times with how he had to maneuver to avoid stepping on something unsavory.

“Not bored?”

“Never!” Crouching, gangly legs splayed to avoid hitting anything, he peered at the mass of puffy leaves she tended to while doing a binocular comparison–-one eye was focused on the shape and color of the vegetation, the other analyzing his store of information for direct comparison until it found a match. Often this was a feature used for color-correcting or aligning cut patterns of paper and fabric but it worked fantastically for identifying plants and berries–-delightful! This one didn’t have a match yet; he smiled. “What’s this one?”

Carefully, Jenn pulled a tangle of leaves from the bush, the ‘branch’ unfurling into a long vine-like wisp heavy with fat, round leaves that had a grayish tint on them. She coiled the base of the vine around her mechanical fingers and ran it through her hand, the bulbs popping free without a hint of resistance to fall into the basket beneath her. The air smelled of clean linen and spring water suddenly. “Soap leaves,” she answered once the harvest was stashed, a woven mat placed over the top of them within the basket to keep them separate from other collectibles. “They’re super convenient and grow just about everywhere; when they're ready to use, they get that silvery color on their skin. You can peel them, juice ‘em, crush them in your hand–-they lather up with water and make you smell super clean. Great natural deodorant.”

“Deodorant?”

She had a wry grin on her ace. “You might not sweat or smell but we humans tend to have funny odors after a long day of work.”

“Oh? I’ve never noticed.” Most of high society did their best to be presentable at all times, though he vaguely wondered if too much perfume counted as body odor. Nevermind the fact he could simply disengage one of his senses whenever it became overwhelming.

“Lucky.” Standing up, Jenn gathered the materials she’d removed from the basket and gently placed them back inside: woven mats that acted as separators, a small kit of pruning tools, a smaller pack of ointment and bandages, plus a handful of other random things had been stored inside the large carrying basket until needed. Whenever Jenn wanted to harvest something, she set the basket down, pulled the tools out, took a bit of what she needed, then put the tools back, always careful to not throw or drop anything. Sometimes, Sun thought, he would hear her humming but never loud enough for him to point it out.

Rising gracefully, Sun placed his hands under the basket as she lifted it up, reflexively trying to assist though she didn’t need it. After four attempts where he couldn’t stop himself, she’d given up trying to correct him and simply allowed it, the basket creaking under its growing weight as she used her head and neck to support it through the underbrush. It seemed dangerous to do too often, but the gold robot wasn’t nearly brave enough to tell her that for fear of running out her patience with him. How she hadn’t yet was a gift he wasn’t intending to look in the mouth. “So, um…” Jenn turned her head slightly to indicate she heard him, her step never breaking as they rounded a stand of trees. “All of this… foraging? Do you do this every day?”

She rose up a few inches while stepping onto a particularly large root, then dropped back down; Sun was able to stride over it fairly easily with his long legs, clearing it like a balance beam. “Well, sort of. Harvesting every day is bad for the plants, but I don’t clear them off when I need them cuz that’s wasteful. I just keep track of what I need and know where to find it and collect only that much. This area is consistently temperate so the plants stay in bloom year-round as long as the aurora cooperates.”

“That must be extremely convenient!”

“It is.” The trees ended abruptly, breaking onto a stretch of sand and grass along a small lake. Sun stopped, awestruck at the vision of the aurora reflecting in the water, barely realizing Jenn was still walking until she started talking again. “It’s why I stayed here to build my base.”

Blinking hard to snap out of his gawking, Sun trotted up to shrink the distance between them. “You–-you built this place? Alone?”

She shrugged, gazing at the water for a moment in thought. “Salvaged, if you want to get technical. It was gutted and falling apart when I found it but the basic house structure was already there. I patched it up in my spare time, moved in and stayed put.”

“That’s… incredible!”

A humorous laugh escaped her. “I mean, sure? I guess? Dragged thing still leaks like a–-” Jenn paused for just a moment to avoid cursing unnecessarily, aware her tag-along didn't seem to care for it. “Like an old boat when it rains but it’s home.”

Jenn slowed to a stop, gaze on the treeline ahead of them, which allowed Sun to fully catch up without having to hurry, hoping to keep the discussion going. Moon would be pleased with any information he got, surely! “How long have-–”

“Sh.”

Sun froze completely at the chaste sound, feeling a bit of panic well up inside that made his rays retract slightly. Had he upset her? Was she going to chastise him? Or worse-–?

Slowly, Jenn placed the basket down at the foot of a tree and rolled the front of her skirt up, using the back panel as a belt to tie and tuck it out of the way. With eerie silence and a half crouch, she slipped into the underbrush along the tree line, the green and brown colors of her clothes blending her into the leaves and dirt just enough to make her hard to keep track of. The panic Sun felt shifted immediately from worry for upsetting her to raw survival. Something was in the forest with them.

Was he supposed to follow? She hadn’t said-–was it a trap?? Would he be left to fend for himself??

A branch snapped somewhere.

It took everything in his system to withhold the shriek he wanted to let out, hands covering his mouth to block the sound from escaping.

~

Locked.

Moon scowled, sliding his hand up and down the door to look for any secret hinge or panel to press that would open it without the passcode. No such luck. Fingers drumming on the metal door for a moment, he huffed and rose, feeling along the seams of the frame.

Nothing.

A tip-tap got him to turn, only slightly surprised to find Rukbat staring at him curiously, wrong ear flopping at the tip as he titled his copper brown head as if to say ‘what’cha doin’?’ Putting his hand to his hips, Moon considered the fact that he could be getting spied on with the canine present, but couldn’t be mad about it. It was simply doing as it should by guarding its mistress’s secrets from nosey visitors.

“I don’t suppose you can let me in, can you?” he wondered, not expecting an answer. Why was he even talking to this thing?

Rukbat whined.

“Didn’t think so.” Backing up from the door, Moon turned on his heel and began to walk away, listening for footsteps. When none came by the time he got down to the yard, the navy snoop looked up to the part of the patio still visible from where he stood, seeing the canine’s head poking out from between the rails. After a moment, Rukbat slid back and turned, out of sight. Moving to try and see up more, Moon could just barely make out the tops of the doors the Sirius was next to, the ones he’d just come from.

One led to the kitchen, he knew that already after seeing it at breakfast, but the other one beside it was sealed tight with no other doors that he could find. Whatever it guarded was a part of the house he had yet to see, and with her warning about locked doors he had to assume it was a private area. A bedroom, or perhaps a study? Something that may have answers for him.

Rukbat’s nails tapped the patio as it wandered out of sight, then scratched on something. A rush of air–-Moon squinted, seeing the sliver of the locked door vanish for a moment. What?! Hurrying, he stomped up the steps, three at a time, sliding into the rail as he circled back to the set of doors, disbelieving.

They were shut.

With a quick check, he found it the same as a moment ago: no handle, no panel, still in need of a wireless access code. “Draggit-–” he hissed, hitting the rail with his hand. Did… I just get punked by a dog ? Drumming his fingers once more, Moon made an annoyed sound in his throat, both impressed and embarrassed.

He was not telling Sun about that.

Changing objectives to try and salvage his dignity, Moon made his way to the lounge, intending to comb through the papers and notes strewn about. She was so eager for that binder in here, maybe there’s something else? Jenn had gotten short with them after their sit-down in the grass, her eyes darting about as if looking for or avoiding something. In an unexpected burst of speed, she’d gotten ahead of them on the way inside, which prompted Moon to follow quickly to figure out what she was doing. They’d nearly collided as she ducked out of the lounge, a massive, black binder full of laminated paper breaking their contact with a whump .

That thing was dense.

She’d slid off to the side, telling them to relax without another peep on their situation, and escaped before he could stop her, locking herself in the white container–-

Moon stopped shifting through papers–-something about the practical uses of a wood fungus native to the boglands miles from here-–as he pondered over the white block of metal under the patio. The human had already brought equipment out of it once and managed to spend an entire resting time locked inside doing something or other that put her in a good mood. It couldn’t be a storage shed, could it?

Idiot.

Dropping the paper, Moon left quickly, hopping the railings with practiced grace to land as lightly as he could on the lawn. Unsurprisingly, the white block was sealed tight, just like the door, but he had time to burn. Starting at the front, Moon began to systematically search for cracks or wires across the outer wall, maybe an emergency key or passcode hint scribbled somewhere that went unnoticed. Humans often had odd habits like that so he hoped this human was just odd enough to be prone to the same silly idea.

He looked and looked–-right up until the panic set in suddenly, nearly knocking him prone with dizziness. Not his own panic however.

Sun’s.

~

Crack.

Sun took a quick step back, feeling his gears and wires screeching again-– run.

RUN!

Something creaked–-he turned to the motion above his head, hands trembling. Burning.

He could defend himself.

He could–-

In a lithe motion, Jenn swung herself from the creaking branch and landed on the balls of her feet, knees bent to disperse the impact and muffle the sound of her return. Before he could even process what was happening, Sun was silenced by her finger at her mouth, staving off his attempt to ask anything; baffled, he crept over when she waved, keeping low as she led him into the trees.

I’m dead, he frantically chanted, Moon was right, she’s crazy, I’m dead.

Her hand came out and he stilled, watching her movements with every scrap of focus he could muster beyond his confusion and panic. It was remarkable how quiet she could be when climbing, easing herself into the tree overhead, eyes on something beyond the wall of shrubbery that carpeted the forest floor. It got more bizarre when she looked down and pointed to her head, making some sort of gesture it took a moment for him to decipher.

My rays? Hide… hide my rays?

Uncertain, he shut off the process that controlled the haptic array, withdrawing the light spokes into the seam of his head. It was darker than he thought without them. He didn't like it.

Motioning again, Jenn indicated he should move to the space below the branch, just beyond the bushes. Nervously, he did so, sending one last location ping to his brother so he could have hope some part of him would be recovered. Being silent in the overgrowth was quite a task with his long frame, but Sun managed well enough not to get hushed again, crouching between the roots of the gnarled blue-wood tree Jenn was perched in. Maybe if he were quick enough he could jump-–

Finger to her lips once more, Jenn slowly pointed, splayed out on her belly across the arm of the great tree to minimize herself. Staring into her eyes for a moment and seeing no ill intent–-he hoped-–the golden bot turned his head so very carefully, bracing for something awful.

His exhaust cycle paused.

Through the leaves of the canopy, the aurora’s light took on far more colors than it usually had, all flickering as the trees shifted in unseen winds. Greens and blues and oranges taken from leaves and flowers danced through the air on the way to the ground, bugs humming curious tunes to each other that filled the forest with its own unique heartbeat. None of that mattered so much, though, compared to the massive creature standing between the trees; almost as tall at the head as he was when standing, with a furry pelt a shade of blue usually reserved for deep water, the creature grazed idly, unbothered by anything going on around it at that moment. Great, curling antlers of sapphire and diamond dust twisted over its head, catching the light from the falling leaves in such a way, Sun felt he would cry if he could. It turned slightly, chewing-–the dark eyes of the beast found him.

He froze.

The animal-–a great stag of sorts–-grunted, nose flaring. Only then did another head appear behind it, ears pivoting at the sound. Sun counted three of them as he waited to see if they would charge or flee, one without a curling crown of gems and another much smaller one, hiding between their legs. It was with awe and joy that he realized it was a family.

Suddenly, all three lifted their heads, ears rotating to one direction collectively as they stood stock still. The male grunted again, shaking his great neck; light seeped up through the curls and points of its crown, a blinding flash making Sun look away for a moment. When it cleared, the deer had fled, the trees thumping and shaking under their hooves as they disappeared into the depths of the wood. Such an interesting survival tactic!

“SUN!”

Faintly, the familiar voice of his brother caught his ear, somewhere back where he’d just come from. Getting up from his vantage point, the gangly bot moved back through the shrubbery to the lakeside, his radials fluttering to their rightful place–-not two seconds later, Moon’s footfalls thundered to him as he broke cover, bare feet sliding to a stop on the lush grass and sand. “Sun!” he repeated with some relief, his pulse points flashing and fading from his distress. Before his brother could answer, Moon had hold of his shoulders, looking him over. “Are you alright? What happened??”

Sun wobbled as he was turned by Moon’s frantic examination of his person. Catching himself before he could fall, Sun gently clasped the dark robot’s hands between his to try to assure the worrywart he was fine–-but hesitated, grin faltering slightly on his face as the desire to tell Moon what happened caught in his voice box. In a fraction of a second, Sun changed his answer. “I-I’m fine! I…”

A thump in the grass nearby revealed Jenn emerging from the forest, dusting herself off and fixing her skirt to hang like it should, a piece of underbrush being plucked off absently. The pair acknowledged her appearance with a glance, forcing Sun to interject before she said anything.

“There you are!”

Jenn looked up from her dusting, brow creased for a moment, seeing the tight expression on the golden bot and the annoyed one of the blue jerk.

Placing his hand on Moon’s shoulder, Sun went on, “I’m sorry, Moon, I got separated and lost sight of Jenn. I… didn’t mean to worry you.”

OH! Jenn realized with a start, finishing her realignment of her clothes after the tree messed them up to buy time to cover her reaction. “I didn’t think it would be so easy to lose you in the woods, bright eyes. A seven-foot-tall Sunrise with a halo on his head should be pretty easy to keep track of.”

“I’m sorry,” Sun reiterated, folding his hands together apologetically. “I got distracted and then you were gone and this forest is a lot bigger than…” Glancing to the side, Sun saw the wary glint in Moon’s yellow eyes. “Than the yard… um, there’s a… distinct lack of fences out here!” Moon sighed at his prattling.

“There’s a lack of a lot of things out here,” the human agreed, playing off the situation with the plain casualness they’d come to expect from her at this point. She hefted the basket up to its position on her head with a slight grunt.

Unwilling to expend more energy into dissecting the conversation, Moon closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself to let it go. “I think,” he started, half through his teeth, “that’s enough for today, don’t you think?”

“Oh?” Sun chirped, not wanting that to be the case.

“I mean, I’m not done yet but if you want to go back you can.” Walking past them both, Jenn idly pointed through the trees toward the house, heading to a completely different area of the forest without a glance back.

“Wait!” Sun blurted, taking a step after her before Moon grabbed hold of his wrist, forcing him to stop. Silently, the two prodded each other through their Lock, each trying to convince the other to go the way they wanted; Moon’s eyes flicked toward the house, wanting to discuss things privately, but Sun turned his cheek to indicate following Jenn, as he wanted to keep learning and familiarize himself with the land around the house. It was a stalemate between them for some seconds until Jenn coughed to get their attention.

She’d paused at the treeline and waited, as asked, but she seemed put off by their refusal to follow, her gaze dull, mouth turned in a frown. “Well?”

Taking the moment to change his grip on Sun, Moon tugged, bringing his brother back a step. “I think that’s enough excitement for right now,” he claimed firmly. “Let’s go back, Sun.”

“He’s fine,” she quipped dismissively. “It’s not like he got hurt or anything.”

“That’s not the point.” Moon took his own step toward the house, pulling Sun off balance slightly as he did so the golden robot would stumble after him. “It’s been long enough for our first day.”

“Give him some credit.” Jenn turned her body to face them fully, her stance changing subtly as she moved from one foot to the other. Moon felt his inner coils tense in anticipation, something in her movements forcing an alert in the backmost part of his mind, as if preparing for a fight. “He’s picking up on foraging incredibly fast and wants to keep going. Since he’s not hurt and his battery is full, I think he can choose to stay out if he really wants to.”

“And Sun has a bad habit of being an overachiever who doesn’t know when to quit,” Moon pressed, looking at his brother whose gaze dropped to the ground, knowing it was true. “It’s the first day,” he added, a bit gentler as he saw his brother wilt slightly. “There’ll be time to learn more later.”

As much as he wanted to fight, to speak up for himself, the weight of his lie and the worry in Moon’s voice stripped Sun of the energy to do so in moments, leaving only the ability to placate them both with an answer. “You might be right, Moon,” he agreed quietly, stepping closer to his brother of his own volition.

“Alright then.” Shrugging, Jenn turned and disappeared into the trees without further argument, leaving them to find their way to the house alone.

Sun allowed himself to be tugged back to the familiarity of the yard, unable to bring himself to even look at Moon’s back. There was a wrongness in the air between them, a wall that shouldn’t be there-–he’d put it there by lying, he felt. Lying to spare Moon’s feelings-–to stop him from having more reason to unfairly hate the human that was keeping them safe-–or perhaps lying just to make himself feel better. More capable. In fractions of a second, Sun had chosen to lie about his willingness to follow the strange human into the forest because he thought it would cause Moon more stress and provoke a fight.

How tired he was of fighting already.

Moon was already so strung out and he was being foolish, careless with his safety and choices which were making it even harder on them both. With regret, Sun recalled how easily he’d cracked under the pressure just recently and how Moon stopped everything to ensure he was alright. The fatigue that set in had been all-consuming and heavy, dragging him into sleep without even an attempt to fight it. If that had been his feelings, Sun could scarcely imagine what the stress was doing to his beloved brother under the surface, beyond where their Lock could reach. Feelings that made Moon tense and angry and mistrustful, hardly what he knew his brother to be capable of-–or had been at least.

Before, Moon was a calming presence, laid back and hard to bother with most things. Sun recalled how much he appreciated the gentle presence of Moon after an event or an ordeal, always there, never stressing the details if Sun wouldn’t share them. A snappy joke and steady hand at his back could help him relax from anything that happened within the walls of the estate, but somewhere along the way, Sun found changes. Worried looks, concerned squeezes, fewer musings in the halls where ears couldn’t hear them-–at some point, the stress had begun to eat away at Moon long before now. It was just far worse recently. More obvious.

Sun knew it was his fault.

I should be doing better, he told himself as they finally reached the grassy swath of the yard, Moon’s grip on him loosening. I will do better. Before he could slip away too far, Sun quickly stepped forward, grabbing his brother in a tight hug that caught the navy-and-night hued robot off guard. “I’m sorry,” the golden half of the pair croaked, radials fluttering. “I didn’t… mean to worry you.”

After a second, Moon melted, his anger washing away at the worry and regret in his brother’s voice. Gently, he wrapped his arms around the lanky bot and held tight, clearing his mind before he could reply. “I know you didn’t.” Pulling back, Moon held his brother’s shoulders carefully, meeting his teal irises with concern and authority. “This is not a place to play, Sun. I know you’re excited to get out and I appreciate you keeping her occupied so I can look around but you need to remember this isn’t the backyard and not a vacation. We don’t know what’s out there and I don’t want you getting overwhelmed in your excitement when I’m not there to help you.”

The reflex to argue he’d be fine came and went as Sun held it in, only nodding as Moon was right to an extent. There was so much to do and learn and see, and he’d been so understimulated for so long the chance of his system going into a critical shutdown wasn’t impossible. Just another thing Sun hadn’t considered that was worrying his brother needlessly.

Carefully, Moon pulled Sun’s head down, their foreheads touching softly as they both calmed themselves, trying to strengthen their Lock against the wear and tear of their mutual stress. Moon hoped Sun would understand that this situation needed to be taken seriously and handled with care; Sun promised to them both he would be more careful, though more to himself than Moon. If he tried hard enough, he could manage his stress and his behaviors so Moon would have one less thing to worry about. It was the least he could do, Sun felt, having already caused enough problems simply by being himself and having no self control.

“You’re alright?” Moon’s voice was quiet.

“I am,” Sun replied just as quietly. “Did… you find anything?”

Sighing, Moon pulled back and turned, seeming annoyed. “No. The door locks are wireless and I don’t know the code so I couldn’t get in anywhere.”

“Oh…” Sun rubbed his neck. “Well… there’s time, I suppose? Maybe Jenn will… maybe I can ask to go out again tomorrow?”

Moon flopped into the grass, sitting back in a way that faintly reminded Sun of the old, relaxed Moon he remembered. “Think she will?”

“Maybe?” Following suit, Sun folded his legs and dropped lightly, leaning on one arm. “It took a bit but after I asked enough questions, Jenn seemed to open up and was happy to explain. Maybe if I ask for more, she’ll go out to tell me?”

Brow raised, Moon wondered, “She didn’t get annoyed?”

Sun shrugged. “If she did, she kept it to herself. At first I thought I was just bad at asking questions–-”

“Doubtful,” Moon cut in jokingly, earning a faint smile from Sun.

“--but then it felt more like…” His hand waved a bit as he searched for the words to use. “Like she was being short on purpose. I almost gave up on it entirely until she slipped up talking about sweetleaf.”

“Isn’t that what sugar is made of?”

Nodding, Sun skimmed the file he’d made on the plant quickly. “Apparently it grows all over the place if the orbura tree is around.”

“The what?”

Reaching up, Sun began to gesture, excitement growing. “Those big blueish trees with the leaves that have fuzzy, gray undersides?” Moon nodded, knowing the ones Sun meant. They were common decorations around E’rta, visible on most corners from the windows of the estate. “So apparently that gray fuzz forms from extra sugars in the tree being stored for later use, but when the leaves fall the sugar doesn’t go anywhere. Sweetleaf grows where the sugary leaves collect to recycle the excess so it doesn’t go to waste; when they die, the tree reabsorbs the sugar from the soil and starts it over, like a recycling system.”

Moon stared, baffled. “You learned that while looking for food?”

Nodding more enthusiastically, Sun’s smile broke through genuinely. “I didn’t even know sweetleaf made sugar sweetener–-well, I did but not how or that it’s not even the thing making the sweet part itself! Jenn was collecting some and I asked what it was, and at first it was a short answer like before but after I asked how to turn it into sweetener–-oh! That container!” Pointing to the house, Moon jumped a bit as Sun grew more excited. “That’s all made by Jenn!”

“Huh,” Moon mused, resting his elbows on his knees while waiting for Sun to continue, glad the abrasive mood seemed to be passing.

“She told me how to process it in a double boiler and how it grows under the trees–-but then she kind of stopped.”

“Stopped?”

Now concerned as he recalled his day more clearly, Sun mumbled a bit. “It was like she realized she was talking too much and just... Quit. I feel like maybe she’s used to not sharing things with others.”

No surprise there. A tad bitterly, Moon huffed, rolling his eyes. Sun was still going on about something but he couldn’t help his thoughts straying to his own day and how comparatively lacking it was in results. Nevermind the fact he was still outwitted by a Sirius of all things. Pathetic, he told himself, barely noticing his brother mention something or other about the forest and the colors of the light through the trees. If he wanted to soothe his bruised ego, he’d need another chance to learn something worth sharing. For that, he’d need another chance to explore. Catching a lull in the conversation, Moon decided to interject, “If you’ve gotten this much out of just one day, then I’d say it’s worth trying again tomorrow. Or later, even.”

Sun paused, feeling a bit happy that Moon thought his info dump was worthwhile. “You think so?”

“We’ll need as much as we can get if we’re going to be on our own eventually.”

On our own.

The words were heavy and incomprehensibly sticky, attaching to everything Sun had shared thus far and managing to drag them out of the levity and excitement of learning something new down to the echoing, muted cavern of worry he’d been desperate to stay out of the entire time. There, it stayed, thick and cold. Despite knowing it somewhere deep inside, Sun couldn’t help the gear-wrenching anxiety the idea of being alone gave him, even if it was alone with Moon, which was simply normal and expected. However, no matter how used to being with Moon he was, Sun was also used to rarely being isolated indefinitely from outside contact. Hired hands were around every corner, gatherings were frequent enough to be part of the weekly schedule, visitors were few but frequent in between-–brief periods of them being alone were rare. Now, being expected to have it as the default brought dread into his system.

Likely to do with his programming which was made specifically to be around and entertain guests, encouraging him to seek human interaction as a priority, Sun pushed back on it, unwilling to sabotage himself or his brother with confusing feelings of duty and purpose that he wasn’t completely sure were his own. Fighting one’s own ingrained sense of self was horrid, itchy and wrong, full of dust almost that clouded one’s train of thought into senseless background screeching.

It didn’t matter what he thought he wanted. What they needed was to fix the mistake he made by being a coward and get as far away from that woman as possible. Maybe one day the wrongness would go away, or fade into little more than a mild grievance in the deepest corner of his mind.

Maybe one day he would know if it was his own desire to be in human company that begged him to stay in this odd house in the jungle, or if it was simply the result of programming forced onto him from before he ever came online the first time.

~

A lot of life was dark. Or it felt that way so far to the pair who stood patiently in the atrium, only their eyes alight in the dimness. ‘Keep your radials down’ the Sunrise had been told, as they would draw too much attention otherwise and ruin the surprise. The inner flurry of codes and systems inside him buzzed excitedly to finally be allowed to fulfill his purpose after the long journey from the facility; he so wanted to reach out through the dark and take hold of the other unit standing nearby, to remind himself he wasn’t alone in this chamber, but he couldn’t.

Wait, they were told.

The yellow glint in the dark was enough for now, he told himself. The other unit–-Moondrop, his Tidally Locked partner-–was there with him, just as quiet and, if his inner hum meant anything, just as eager. They were never far from each other, not in the short time they’d been active, so there was no reason to believe now was any different. It was even dark, like the first time they became aware of each other...

***

Coming online for the first time was a slow process; awareness of one’s limbs always came before any sense of space or outside assessment. File after file opened and ran in quick succession, demanding fingers and toes be moved, passive processes being read for anomalies, systems cycled through checkmark after checkmark to ensure they cooperated properly. Somewhere between this initial calibration and wanting to open his eyes, something else rippled through like an echo.

Sunrise.

That was him! A sunrise. A star.

Happiness flashed in his system at knowing himself. A tickle followed his elation, some quiet repetition of his joy that felt just a bit different. Feeling that extra nudge of emotion took his attention from his waking process for just a moment, drawing him deeper into himself. What was it? He wanted to know! Mustering the sensation as best he could, Sunrise urged his emotional code to run again; the echo answered faintly, bringing another wave of happiness that it mirrored. Each pass made Sunrise want to skip and laugh! To stay in this place with the little echo of his own happiness forever!

“Hello?”

Startled by the feeling of his own voice, Sunrise waited for the echo to respond. For a long moment, there was nothing. Fretting he’d scared it off, the robot tried to summon his joy again, to share it into the void and see if that brought an answer–-but he couldn’t. Afraid that his echo had vanished had left him empty, too much to be able to express that fleeting feeling of light and positivity.

Then it answered.

“It’s alright.”

The echo sounded nothing like him, to his surprise. While his own voice was high and light, with clear notes that felt like they could reach deep into the darkness and find the edges easily, this one was lower, soft but creaky as if someone had just woken up.

“I’m here.”

Sunrise peered around, unsure where ‘here’ was. “Where?”

“Next to you.”

There was no one, though. Pulling himself from the deep depths of himself, Sunrise reeled as his systems continued their processes around him–-breathing, cycling, flexing–-but he found what he felt he needed by clinging to his dexterity processes. Just enough to move his fingers. Turn his hand.

A cool sensation flickered through his system check, his hand coming into contact with something outside of himself that was not part of the flurry of self-diagnostics he was dealing with. The feeling grew as the thing also moved, his fingers being laced into something firm and, inexplicably, familiar.

“Is that you?” Sunrise wondered, not fully expecting an answer.

One still came though, more of an impression than true words. “Yes.”

Joy washed through him again. He wanted these checks to finish so he could wake up! “I’m Sunrise!” he cheered, squeezing the cool thing between his fingers.

The pressure matched his as his hand was squeezed back. While the feelings weren’t as intensely directed as his, Sunrise still knew this echo was as pleased as he felt. “I’m Moondrop,” they replied. “I’m your brother.”

**

Since then, they hadn’t been apart, even when the lights went off and they were told to conduct a sleep cycle. Moondrop was there, only an arm’s length away.

But this time, they’d been told not to cling to each other, to stand presentably and behave.

Sunrise trusted in the familiar, yellow eyes of his brother that he was there, within reach in the dark, and he would still be there when the light returned and they finally got to meet their mistress. Finally, they could dance. Bring her joy. Sate this nagging urge to be with a human, at their side to make their life more colorful!

He was so excited he could hardly contain himself!

~

The tension had mostly gone during their chat and Sun wasn’t going to risk it coming back due to his own misplaced feelings, so he kept it to himself, shoving it as far back as he could into his mind. The outside air was pleasant at least, a balmy temperature without a lot of humidity to seep into the joints and make them squeak. Quietly, the pair of robots sat and tried to enjoy this feeling of wavering peace they were afforded amidst the tension that stalked their every movement like a scavenger waiting for one to fall so they could be consumed. Because of this quiet, they could hear the bugs and grass hum on the wind, the birds tweet and whistle in the trees–-

“Do you hear that?” Moon asked suddenly, glancing around slowly.

“The voice? Yeah, I do,” Sun replied, equally confused.

Just above the wind, they both swore there was a trill of music. Wordless, keening and distant, but there nonetheless, slowly getting clearer as it went. Getting… closer?

Moon was up in a blink, hands balled into fists as he strained to hear which direction it was coming from-–to no avail, the forest managing to mangle the source of the sound between the trees so it was impossible to know for sure where it was coming from. Hunched against the grass, Sun struggled to make out any words within the reverberation, leaving him unsure if it was an aria or a language he couldn’t decipher clearly. Whatever it was, it was beautiful but chilling to not know who or what was making it.

Though there was one possibility.

Suddenly, the sound stopped, leaving them more baffled than when it had started. A minute passed before the bushes rustled, Jenn and her basket coming into view from the far end of the yard. Moon was on her before she’d even gotten to the stairs, eyes flashing. “Did you hear that just now?”

“Hear what?” she replied to him, a bit perturbed by his question. Her basket was distended with weight now, creaking as she put it down with a grunt; at her waist, her skirt was tied up oddly, stretched from whatever she had wrapped up in the hem. Sun found that quite clever of her, using her skirt like an extra hand to carry something; perhaps that was why she called them gathering clothes?

“You can’t tell me you didn’t hear a voice singing in the woods just now.”

Jenn’s eyes widened with concern for a moment before returning to normal. “No, I didn't, and neither did you.”

Moon glared. “Are you saying that because it was you?”

She stared back, just as hard. “I’m saying that because out in the wilds, if you think you hear something singing or talking out in the woods and you can’t immediately see who or what it is, then no you didn’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“Believe me when I say you don’t want to know.”

Well, that’s terrifying, Sun said to himself, coming up to them both before Moon could press the matter. “Do you need help?”

Gathering her laden skirt front in her arms, Jenn nodded at him, seeming to relax. “If you’re careful, you can bring the basket to the kitchen.”

“Sure!” Without hesitation, Sun stooped, grabbing the bottom and hefting–he grunted, surprised at the registered weight. Carrying this on her head can’t be good for her back! Taking a step, Sun followed politely behind Jenn, walking slowly so he wouldn’t drop or jostle the woven burden in his arms. Behind him, Moon took to the steps, keeping back so they wouldn’t collide by accident.

Thankfully he was there. Sun slightly misstepped at the edge of the next stair, his heel buckling as his balance shifted wrongly. Quickly, Moon held up his hands and pushed on Sun’s back to keep him from taking a tumble.

“Thank you!” Sun squeaked, his system surging with panic from the near fall.

“Of course,” Moon replied back distractedly. Something was off. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re never this clumsy.”

“I just missed the stair,” Sun assured, though he also wondered briefly if there wasn’t some issue he hadn’t noticed in his balancing system. Perhaps there really was a good reason for Jenn to keep them there for a few days after all.

“Yeah, and you don’t do that.” Keeping his wits sharp, Moon watched his brother finish the climb without further incident, prepared for another catch should it be needed. “We’re not made to trip and fall.”

“I know, it’s… probably because I’m not used to the stairs here.”

“Mm-hm.” Unwilling to risk it, Moon took a deep breath and swallowed his pride, finding Jenn already in her kitchen putting away round roots from the folds of her skirt front. She turned her head to them and indicated the table for the basket, about to relay instructions for what to do with the contents when Moon cut her off, voice firmer than intended for asking a question. “Is it possible that storm could mess up a balancing system?”

“Huh?” The human stared for a moment, processing his question. Annoyed at having to repeat himself, she ended up answering before he could. “Oh, yeah, absolutely. Why?”

Moon glanced at Sun who looked at the floor.

Making a throaty sound of thought, Jenn put the last starchy tuber away, wiped her hands on her skirt and put them on her hips. “Let me guess.”

Sun groaned. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Moon!”

To his surprise, both Jenn and Moon managed to simultaneously bark, “Doubt it,” at him in the same tone before glaring at each other confusedly. Had it been anything else, Sun would find it funny, but instead it only took away his ability to get someone on his side as they seemed to agree just long enough to double down on there being a problem.

“Geo-magnetic anomalies can cause all kinds of things to happen in computer systems,” Jenn went on once she broke eye contact with Moon. “It’s why Task Managers–-you guys-–are made with magnetically inert metal parts where possible. The ones that can’t be though, usually up here-–” She pointed to her head. “--are still completely at the mercy of the aurora. Why do you think anomaly bunkers are a thing? Bots and modified humans that are sensitive to the activity need them so their systems don’t get fried.” Sun flinched a bit. “Honestly, if you didn’t have something wrong with you after your little trip through the atmosphere I’d be more surprised.”

She wouldn’t be, knowing full well if they didn’t suffer side effects beyond physical damage it was because they weren’t built like normal robots, likely reinforced against the effects of the magnetic anomaly. But there was no way she’d admit that freely right now.

“Can it be fixed?” Moon asked, trying to hide his worry after the last issue hit a dead end due to technical limitations.

“Oh, absolutely.”

The confidence of her voice caught Moon off guard, the tension leaving him faster than anticipated.

“Thankfully, I already know it’s not a hardware issue since-–” She gestured up and down at them. “Ya know. Been there, fixed that. If I had to guess, he’s just not calibrated properly anymore.”

Sun squeaked confusedly, head tilting. “Eh?”

“Being whipped around at mach-stupid with no sense of up or down tends to mess up anyone’s sense of direction. It’s likely self-corrected by now to a functional degree after walking around, but given you both have advanced gyros made for fancy dancy stuff–-” Moon scowled, “--it’s likely just out of tune. Best way to fix it is to just practice.”

“Oh!” That was a relief, Sun’s shoulders heaving with a sigh. “Not a problem then!”

Thinking for a moment, Moon inquired, “So why am I fine?”

Jenn shrugged after thinking. “Lucky I guess?”

“I’m never lucky.”

“Well, out here maybe you are. Now scoot.” Shooing at them, Jenn started to unpack her basket, sorting its contents from the top carefully to have reason to ignore further questions.

Ever the helpful one, Sun leaned over. “Can… we help?”

Pointing to the door, Jenn replied plainly, “Appreciated but maybe go work on that gyro thing if you want something to do.”

“Ah.” Perturbed by her change in mood, Sun stepped back, Moon at his side as they exited.

Under his breath, Moon hissed, “Rude,” but got shushed as they returned to the yard.

Side-eyeing them carefully, Jenn stopped her sorting once they were out of sight, just barely visible through the window as they descended the steps to the outside. That was awfully obedient of them, she pondered, rubbing her chin in thought. It might be nothing but if they’re only half awake then that’s a problem on its own. Leaning on the table, her eyes danced around the kitchen in time to her strings of thought.

Jenn knew full well why the anomaly didn’t mess with the Moondrop’s balancing system, but what got her more curious was the consistency with which he seemed to play dumb about it. It was reaching ‘beyond a shadow of a doubt’ territory that these two runaways absolutely did not know what they were, and that was deeply concerning. I tell myself not to mess around with this stuff anymore and yet there’s always something, isn’t there? she told herself bitterly. I need to get them as far away from their target area as possible before something happens. If they went rogue before their goal was achieved then there’s probably someone out there looking for them right now to finish it. If they don’t know their mission and ran off for their own reasons, as aware AI tends to do, then they also don’t know the conditions needed to fulfill their task. That’s bad. Very, very bad.

Hand over her mouth, Jenn reviewed her mental notes thoroughly, making a list of facts for herself.

One: They were not normal Task Managers. Not according to the component catalog she kept in the giant black binder in her lab.

Two: They did not know they were not normal. That for all intents and purposes, they should not exist as they do.

Three: She was not their objective. It simply didn’t make sense if she was.

And four: She couldn’t not help them. That wasn’t who she was.

If everything went well, there was a chance she could remove the problematic factors altogether and they would never know. A normal life was what they wanted, and she could give it to them. It was the right thing to do.

But they needed to trust her first.

[aikoiya]

Plant Rights Lunatics

OmG... I just... my head hurts just thinking about this...

I just heard that there are actual studies out there... where people are trying to convince us... that plants feel pain & that they are intelligent & that we shouldn't eat them...

...

...

What does that mean for vegans? What? They just shouldn't eat at all? W-! What do these idiots suggest we do????

I...

I can literally feel myself losing braincells...

I just... why not just say that you want humanity to die & get it over with if you're gonna go this far? Like, give up the damn game & just admit that you're anti-human!

This is basically what not having balance in one's beliefs looks like. It's like how feminism these days is just being anti-man. Now being cruelty free is anti-human & this just makes me so upset!

I just... there should be a limit to the desire to reduce pain! A limit to the amount of 'compassion' that one has. Life is pain! You can't live your life without it!

In order for something to live, something ELSE must DIE!! That's how life WORKS!

These people even made suggestions like only eating fruits that have fallen off the plant & what basically amounts to roadkill!!

Apparently, only eating food that's fallen off the vine is a specific type of Fruitarianism that doesn't even seem to have a name. A decent name might be "fallen fruitarianism." Also, there are vegans that only eat roadkill & they're evidently called roadkill vegans. I haven't found a name for when the 2 are combined, but I imagine it's something like "roadkill fruitarianism" or "forager veganism" or whatever. Or you can just call them dumbasses with death wishes!

Either way, these guys are basically saying that we should go back to being foragers!!

From what I can tell, a fruitarian diet is absolutely not healthy. It could even send you to the hospital!

I wonder how Sam Manson & Damian Wayne would react to this information...

I wonder how any vegan character would react!

Either way, I could care less because I'm gonna eat like a sane human being.

Like... I'd kind of like to see these characters try. Initially, they start with fallen fruitarianism but end up slowly growing weaker & weaker over time because they would no longer be able to take nutritional supplements.

Those things are apparently often made from soy proteins & dairy cultures, so definitely not allowed.

In order to live, they'd need to learn to be okay with the supposed suffering of plants. But then, in such a case, why not eat meat? Don't animals suffer just like plants apparently do? So, why not eat them too? Is the suffering of plants somehow less than that of animals?

And what about animals? Aren't they all just as monstrous as people who choose to eat meat & plantlife that hasn't fallen from the vine? Because, for supposedly intelligent beings, they certainly don't seem to care about the pain they bring.

Like, don't get me wrong, eat what you want, but acknowledge that your choices come with consequences. Don't bring this moralistic bs into it.

Here's the thing. I don't give a flying frickadoo if plants do feel pain. If it's between me or the plant, I'm choosing to save myself. Same with animals!

Even still, plants don't have nerves or pain centers & thus even if they did feel some sort of 'distress,' it wouldn't equate to the same sort of pain that we feel.

Like, of course, they're gonna react to the possibility of cessation. That's how survival works. It's why some plants are poisonous. It's a defense mechanism. No organic life wants to die, but just because it reacts to such things doesn't mean its sentient or sapient. Let alone intelligent.

If all it takes is a desire to live to be equal in value to humanity, then wouldn't antibacterial medicines, soaps, & hand sanitizers be considered chemical warfare?

Also, what about parasites like ringworms? They're alive. Shouldn't that make them just as precious as any other animal? Should we just let them continue to live inside of us when we get them? What about when our pets get worms or fleas? What makes a dog more valuable than them?

What about mushrooms? Shouldn't we protect the poor black mold under our floorboards that just wanted to find a nice moist place to rest even if it literally kills us?

These pussies just need to get a fucking grip.

Actually... I do wonder how animal rights activists react when their pets get fleas or worms. Or when they themselves get parasites...

Like, what do they do? Does it just not count in those situations?

Isn't bacteria alive?

You can't say that "all life matters & it should all be preserved" without taking these things into account.

[lambourngb]

seven sentence sunday

I was tagged by the wonderful EJ @ravens-words  - I always appreciate you thinking of me.

I am writing again. I’m writing a LOT. I wrote 60,000 words last month, but I’m not writing RNM currently. I’m having a block there, I think it’s because the stories I was working on then, are tied to my dad being sick. Anyway I’m still working through it and I hope with more time, I can at least finish the Ringmaker epic and my sequel to LYW.

I am still into Top Gun. Currently, I have “survival is insufficient” which is a Last of Us/Top Gun fusion set just after Outbreak Day in 2003. It’s 55,000 words, IceMav. Currently pre-slash, lots of action, lots of pining, lots of “wow, the Iraq War was pretty fucked up, imagine if Zombies halted that 8 months in lol but then you see the US military carry out the same draconian behavior stateside as FEDRA”,

I just started “Working on Nathan Hale’s Eulogy” which is a pre-TGM, canon adjacent story, assuming established IceMav, how does Ice tell Mav he’s dying? It’s pretty heavy, drawing on alot of my own personal experience. It’s 9K now, hopefully finishes at 15K.

first off : survival is insufficient:

There was a disconcerting line of orange and pink undergrowth, trailing from the defunct ice cooler and leading toward the line of tractor-trailers. Tom nudged the vine with his toe, perplexed at why it was growing in the middle of the desert. He risked a glance toward the parked trucks, and jumped when a shadow moved behind the windshield of one of the trucks. He looked closer, and nearly every parked truck had … something, now scrabbling at the windows. 

“Organic tripwire,” Mav observed dryly next to him, while Tom struggled to take in what it meant for the fungal infection. It wasn’t just isolated to just taking over a body, it had spread out, sinking into concrete and other mediums while it waited for another host. “Looks like some of the truckers were sick when they stopped for the night.”

“Doesn’t look like enough intelligence in their brains survived infection for them to understand how to operate the door locks, they’re all trapped in there.” 

“No kidding, they’re not going anywhere. Truckers keep those cabs locked up like Fort Knox when they’re stopped. No one wants to get hijacked.”

“Lucky us,” Tom murmured before turning back to the closed market door. “There could be more of them in there.”

Mav shouldered his rifle with a sure grip, and nodded to him to pull the door open. “Well, we’ve come a long way since Lancaster. I’m ready this time.”

The door swung open, easily. 

They both waited for something to jump out from the store aisles, but nothing happened. The overhead fluorescent lights flickered briefly before staying on, bright and welcoming. It was the result of a long, sustained campaign by corporate interests to minimize maintenance on chain operations; the lights stayed on automatically, along with the drink coolers, only the human behind the counter had to be replaced after a shift. With a glance toward the doomed truckers in the lot, Tom stepped inside with Mav to investigate the store.

The shelves were empty of certain staples, beer, cigarettes, and easy to grab snacks. It had been clearly ransacked as the area descended into chaos, but not by any true survivalist looking to make a stand. The mini mart staples of motor oil, canned goods, and batteries were largely untouched. He exchanged a meaningful look with Mav, and he nodded in agreement with him; once they were fueled up, they would be back for the food and whatever else would fit in the Yukon. 

Mav moved toward the cashier register, and then inhaled sharply when he moved around the counter. “Got a body here, not infected… just looks like someone just shot him.”

“Infected don’t carry guns.”

“Well, the military would have been more efficient and dragged his body out. I think we’re looking at a run-of-the-mill human monster.” He whispered an apology under his breath, as he nudged the poor dead clerk out of the way, and then opened the panel that controlled the gas pumps. It was a matter of a few, chilling minutes of waiting, as Tom watched the door and the back hallways toward the bathroom for any signs of company, and then Mav flashed a thumbs up. “Okay, I told the pump we put a $100 in, the maximum, it should be enough to fill the Yukon and a few of our cans.”  

“Great, let’s get going before the welcome wagon from that crash site arrives.” Tom stayed on high alert as he filled the Yukon, the noises from the parked trucks kept growing louder as more and more trapped infected were alerted to their presence.

and now from: “Working on Nathan Hale’s Eulogy”:

“Now I need another shower,” Pete joked in response, a smile evident in his voice. 

Tom slowly collapsed down on top of him, taking care not to knee him, giving a grunt of acknowledgement as he worked to catch his breath again. His lungs were screaming for oxygen, complaining a little louder than what he thought was normal. Yet another small betrayal. He rolled over onto his back, and stretched his ribcage upward to take a deeper breath, with his eyes closed. 

The bed shifted next to him, Pete moved toward the nightstand for a wet wipe. Tom flinched at the cold touch, before sighing in pleasure as Pete began to clean them up thoroughly with slow, loving swipes. Pete made a considering sound in his throat as he tracked upward, cleaning off their chests. “You haven’t been skipping lunch, have you, Ice? And dinner? You look like you’ve lost a little weight.”

“Just getting ready for the beach season,” Tom joked, even though a small wave of alarm swept through him.

Pete slapped him with the end of the wet wipe, “Asshole. I’m serious, you better be taking care of yourself while I’m in the desert.”

“I promise, I’m not skipping any meals.” He left it unsaid that he wasn’t finishing his meals either. 

“I’ll make you a big omelet in the morning,” Pete promised, his voice warm and drowsy with love. “Will fix you right up.”

If only that were true.

*

[luctheletterweaver]

Fight or Flight Symphonia Side - Eight Fragment

Next one, I'm practically making Ozette a big deal because it's about Presea and Genis cares too much about her. One of my missions here is to make his feelings more... genuine? Something like that. It's not that they would end up together, no, since Presea's whole demeanor makes it clear she sees Genis as a kid.

However, I do want to make Genis actually liking Presea a strong point, and that their subsequent friendship develops in later parts when they can actually get to know each other.

Of course, no Raine means Regal is the only adult in the group right now (I refuse to consider Zelos one until much later and Sheena barely qualifies), so, I feel he would try to pitch in a little more since these kids are way over their heads with a lot of things. Of course, it doesn't mean some have to like it.

I struggled so much with the group discussion at first, but Kat helped me find the way to make it work, and I think the final result was pretty decent.

This fragment appears right after the seventh on Ch 30! Ozette sadness with Presea!

Word count: 2009

Presea's wellbeing

Ozette was on top of a big old tree. From what Sheena could tell them, people who didn’t like the busy life of the cities and academies went there to live quietly and without any care for what happened outside of the forest. It reminded Genis of how much Iselia was isolated from the rest of Sylvarant; perfect to protect a Chosen for sixteen years if the Human Ranch wasn’t right beside it. The hike was tough, though not as much as when they first visited Hima. Guess all the running from the Desians, Papal Knights, and angels paid off.

When they arrived at the entrance and came into view of some of the villagers, Genis immediately sensed the hostility. The second they laid eyes on him, they glared, not that he wasn’t used to that. Presea left them without a word. Genis called for everyone to follow. As they did, more stares fell onto them. Whispers started to fly around but Genis paid no attention, he just ran trying to not lose sight of Presea. He followed her down another giant trunk.

A house stood at the bottom of the tree, looking like it had seen better days. The wood was old and falling apart, vines were growing around it, the windows’ glass was broken and scattered everywhere. There was no way anyone was living there. Yet Presea approached it calmly. In the porch, a man with purple hair stood in wait, a grin in his face.

Genis recognized him. The weird man from Meltokio. What was he doing here?

That’s when a familiar feeling hit him. He’s a half-elf! But it can’t be, I didn’t feel anything in Meltokio. Had he been too tense back then to pay attention? Or maybe the man had a way to hide it. His pristine robes and golden accessories showed status, so having the means wouldn’t be impossible.

Both Presea and the man turned to the party.

“Presea! We have to make a Key Crest for you!” Genis said.

Presea shook her head. “My job awaits. Goodbye,” and entered the house without looking back.

--

Inside Presea’s house was just as unkempt as the area outside. Furniture strewn around and broken, giant cobwebs in the corners, more glass on the floor, everything covered with dust. The only thing that showed use were the tools Presea had gathered in the table. The party walked further to the back where there was a room with beds. One of them had a lump covered by sheets that looked like they hadn’t been washed in years.

An awful smell filled the house, expected due to lack of cleaning, but it was more noticeable in that room. He noticed Lloyd step back when he entered the room. Then, Genis covered his mouth and gagged.

“That smell,” Lloyd gasped.

The party saw Presea running from the occupied bed to a cabinet that had lots of small items, mostly bottles, on the top. Sheena approached the cabinet but refrained from touching anything because Presea’s eyes were on her.

“Medicines. They’re empty though,” Sheena turned to the bed.

Dread filled Genis. The lump wasn’t moving at all, not even a hint of breathing. Didn’t Presea notice? He approached the bed. Inside it…

Genis screamed.

Someone dragged him away as fast as they could. He hadn’t noticed falling on the floor. How could he? The sight was too ghastly, Genis was bewildered he didn’t faint there. Still, his terror hadn’t done anything to alert Presea, she just kept watching the cabinet. Everyone’s looks ranged from disgust to pity.

Genis clutched his fists. Cruxis is unforgivable. He really wanted to run outside to escape the smell and that view, yet his worry for Presea kept him rooted to the spot.

In the middle of all the horror, Genis didn’t notice who dragged him away. He turned and saw Colette, whose hands were hovering over his shoulders. When he looked closer, her arms were trembling, and her eyes were holding back tears. How has Colette been feeling this whole time? She was indirectly the closest to this situation, having been a victim too, and Genis couldn’t imagine the powerlessness that filled her after seeing this. He nudged at her, but Colette didn’t notice as she was lost in her thoughts.

“How could this happen?” Sheena said.

“It’s probably the exsphere…” Zelos replied while covering his nose. The smell was starting to become unbearable for everyone. “And there’s a chance she has no idea what happened here.”

Regal approached the cabinet. “Presea, are you not coming with us?”

“I must do my job,” Presea turned and answered automatically.

Regal’s shoulders slumped and let out a short breath. “We should leave her here,” he said dryly.

Genis frowned. How could this guy start making decisions for them when he had barely joined? Unlike everyone else, Genis still wasn’t cozy with having a former enemy —Sheena would always be an exception to him after everything they went through— join like nothing happened.

And he wasn’t the only one, apparently. Colette and Lloyd looked at Regal in shock. Genis got up from the floor and glared.

“Are you serious? Here?!” Lloyd yelled.

“There’s no way we’re doing that!” Genis joined.

“Regal, we can’t do that,” Colette finished.

The three had their own reasons to speak up. Genis’ was he couldn’t leave Presea alone in such a place. When had he become so stubborn? That was Lloyd’s job.

“What if something happens to her?!”

“We can’t take her against her will,” Regal said calmly.

“Leaving her alone would be much worse. You saw how people looked at her when we entered this place.”

“I doubt anyone will try anything if they’ve seen her use that axe.”

“But what about that guy who just left?” Lloyd raised his concern. “He could have someone come and take Presea prisoner while we’re gone.”

“He could be with the Church of Martel, too,” Colette said. “Presea is strong but she’s vulnerable to orders from them.”

“Guys,” Sheena interrupted. Everyone turned to her. “I get it, I’m worried too, but… it would be faster if we go to Altessa’s place and get the Key Crest repaired.”

“Sheena!” Genis yelled. “Are you really going to listen to him?”

“Genis, it’s not-”

“It’s not that, brat,” Zelos spoke for Sheena. Genis directed his glare at him. “Remember what Kate said, she’s just like sweet Colette was. Unlike her though, we don’t know how longer Presea can afford to stay that way. It’s better we leave right now.”

Lloyd grimaced. “Yeah, but…”

“The church has a need for her. They won’t harm her,” Regal added.

Genis’ frown grew deeper. He didn’t like Regal. The interest he showed about Presea’s wellbeing didn’t help either. Genis wanted to help her too.

If Raine was here, she would probably declare this whole argument pointless when they all wanted the same thing and call Genis out for being so petty.

“I know but maybe it’s better she comes with us,” Colette said.

His sister wasn’t here though.

“Colette is right! We can’t leave her anyway!” Genis argued.

“It’ll be much faster to take her to Altessa’s house rather than-” Lloyd started but got interrupted.

“Okay, that’s it!” Sheena raised her voice, her eyebrows and eyes in a scowl. Genis got startled; Sheena rarely directed anger at anyone that wasn’t Zelos. “Did you guys forget in what state Presea is? If we try to move her now, she’ll retaliate.”

“But-” Lloyd, Genis and Colette spoke at the same time, yet the three got shut down immediately.

“No. Yuan told us that day what will happen. If we do anything she considers a danger to herself, she’ll attack. Are you prepared to fight Presea head-on if that happens?”

Genis’ face paled. He was pretty sure Lloyd and Colette had similar reactions.

"Wait, you mean like when Colette almost sent me flying down the stairs in Meltokio?” Zelos’ eyes widened in slight terror. “No way, I don't want my beautiful face to get hurt!"

“Shut up, idiot Chosen!” Sheena breathed deeply. “The point is you kids need to calm down. I know you want to help but fighting like this is not the way to get what you want.”

“Sheena, that’s not it…” Lloyd spoke weakly.

“Stop it. Regal is right. We’re leaving Presea here because I refuse to put any of you in danger over misguided feelings.”

Colette grimaced. “It’s just… I feel so sorry for her. This is unfair.”

Sheena sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Colette, this isn’t your fault.”

Colette nodded with a smile, though her downturned eyes said a different story, and left the house. Lloyd went after her.

The tension got cut after that. Genis’ nose was irritated and his head throbbing. He understood Sheena’s feelings but… Genis didn’t know when to stop sometimes. There was a last thing he could try, even though it made him sick to his stomach to do it.

“That man we met is a half-elf.”

Revealing the man’s secret without asking was wrong. Genis would have never dreamed of exposing another fellow half-elf like this. He still had to try though, Presea wasn’t safe here no matter what everyone else said.

Despite those feelings, something about the man rubbed Genis the wrong way and it was best to let the rest know anyway. With the significant influence Cruxis had in both worlds, he couldn’t cross out the possibility the man had ties with them.

Sheena didn’t look taken aback by this information like the others. “That could explain some things. He smelled of blood. If he’s got some ulterior motive with Presea, we should hurry.”

Nothing, huh? Guess I won’t convince them.

This wasn’t right. A rift was starting to appear in the party, and Genis didn’t understand why. Even with all the disagreements they’ve had in Sylvarant, it never felt this hollow. Not even Sheena joining them after Raine healed her in Luin per Colette’s pleas or their discovery of the exspheres’ creation had made any of them fight like this.

At least with Raine and Kratos there had been a strange sense of union between all five of them. Here, without his sister or the mercenary —Genis should drill in his head Kratos almost killed them and no amount of help after the fact would change that—, that union was still missing. Worst of all, Sheena was forced to assume a role that clearly wasn’t for her. If at least Raine was here, Genis was sure she would keep them all, especially the kids, in line and none of this would have happened.

Zelos sighed and left, his nose red from pinching it close due to the smell. Sheena looked between Genis and Regal, something clearly bothering her, but shook her head.

“Let’s go,” Sheena turned and left.

Genis checked on Presea. Even through all the arguing, she never moved from her place in front of the cabinet nor stared. Her mind was somewhere else, the presence of the party that had brought her back home became unnecessary to recognize. Genis wondered if their helping Presea was the right choice. When she was freed from the prison her heart was in, how would she react? If Zelos’ assumption was right… I still want to help Presea. They all wanted to, so why couldn’t they agree on what was the obvious choice?

Genis swore he would make up to her for all the trouble she went through for them, that hadn’t changed. That’s why, when Presea was able to feel and speak with emotion, when she saw what became of her house and village, he would make sure to be there for her, not as a protector, but as a friend.

“Genis.”

Regal was about to leave but called for him. Genis didn’t reply, instead approached Presea. “We’ll be back soon, don’t worry.” He then turned towards the exit, never giving Regal a look.

“About what happened-”

“Who went and put you in charge?”

Genis ran outside.

[frostbite-the-bat]

OK this time I wad a less pleasant dream

Warning for mentions of gore and animal harm

- in my dream I heard from mole that someone made a funny pacesetter.exe game using Mario 64 for some reason so I downloaded it but when we tried running it, it didn't work

I continued on my life then, and did my art and other things... Until my computer began acting weird and slow and so I restarted it. The internet has been acting weird in the dream beforehand too but that's unrelated - I went on my switch to play games but then I saw my screen light up and I see my wallpaper has changed

I walk over and it's text saying that my computer is being watched and hacked by devs of the game and that I'm dumb for downloading it - and for me to appease them I have to put Toontown fanart into one of the folders in the game files

I go through the files and there's many gore images, mostly of dead animals. I get to the folders without images and I make a text file and start typing, and here's what I remember typing:

"Hello, I am Guzma / Cathal, but I'm mostly known as Frostbite-The-Bat in the community. (Can't remember) I apologize for whatever I've done that has angered you. Please inform me of any other ways I can appease you -"

And I get cut off and windows start moving around and my cursor starts being hard to control. Another text file opens up and text starts appearing that I don't remember but it was very memey and jokey and clearly tried intimidating me. They used fonts and ominous messages - but I saw these were trolls who do this for fun and so I joined in, hoping that'll get me on their side.

"Oh, and you'll type THAT using the halloween font, right?"

"yeah right"

And then we both began fucking around with the fonts for a while, seeing that a lot of them even morphed into images that'd overlay the whole text. Some were more weird, like a foot frozen in ice and some little animal on an Ai generated green colored torso in a dentists office

Once I had more control again, I continue typing in my own text post:

"I am only typing this formally now, believe me I don't speak like this often. I don't have anything to offer aside from art due to my living conditions. Please, from one TTCC fan to another, what can I do to stop you from hacking my computer?"

Some time then passes and I hear a voice, which sounded Exactly like snapcube Eggman showing me things in a presentation with various drawings - supposedly the images of animals they had were from the group who made this game

"so yknow those machines that exist to make those flavored burgers. you put a soda in the bottom and it squeezes it and it then goes up. WELL SO WE THOUGHT what if we put a chicken in there? and so we did. and when we did it SQUISHED IT and all the organs went up, and the skin and the bones remained on the bottom where it crushes those cans! then yknow how it poops out the soda can remains? it did so with the chick, too, it looked really gross. we read something online that chicks can survive with one drop of water and so we injected it with water in the forehead. then, it slowly got up! with no blood or anything, it was loving again! this was it can grow it all back and we can repeat the process without buying any new animals!"

And the machine looked like this on the presentation:

It then began showing the baby chick in detail, and I was getting really uneasy and so I woke up.

I have in fact overslept my alarm even if it literally fucking blares VINE BOOM SOUND EFFECT. also about my prev post I would be delighted to get The Fabled Ibuprofen We Love On Tumblr for my ouchies however I AM not getting up oh gooedudddgb hbhhhghhgjjjhjhjhjhmhnnjhh

Considering this dream was about Pacesetter I nerd to fill you in on the inside joke that, anytime I'm going through The Monthly Horrors, I call it "I'VE TURNED INTO PACESETTER" so that's that

I'm very glad it was real because getting hacked live like that is genuinely so fucking scary