#i just really like hive minds too and the logistics of them

[thetruemxpink]

This is why in nature, the 'hive queen' of the hivemind doesn't actually control anything, but is rather just the source of where the hive is, like bees, wasps, ants, termites, etc.

It's also why most modern takes on hiveminds have it so the drones are their own individual completely, their own individual but can be made to serve, and/or so mindbogglingly stupid and simple that it costs two megabytes worth of ram to keep them running. MLP Changelings, WoF HiveWings, and Halo Flood, respectively.

There's also the extra tier of hiveminds where there the 'hivemind' aspect is just a part of the species and there is no host or it's caused and provided by technology and/or divinity, or the hivemind has a certain radius. StarCraft Protoss and StarCraft Zerg, respectively.

I mean massive colonies of hive-species on our own planet need multiple queens in order to keep the whole thing going, and species with enough foothold and efficiency can create supercolonies, like the Fireant has done to everyone's detriment. I assume it would have to be the same for any sci-fi hive species as well, excluding the possibility that it was caused/fueled/provided by something beyond our world, like an Eldritch being, who is probably only mildly inconvenienced by it.

All three of the Zerg leaders created other co-hosts to help them control the entire swarm more extensively and intensively, and as a safety-net in case they met their untimely demise. The Breath of Evil needed several minds to keep it under control with reasonable effect, and its main hosts could not control everyone without eventually overtaxing themselves. Changelings only had a strong devotion to their hive, so much so that they can defect if they so willed it. My favorite fanfic of the Changelings had it so that only the most powerful could speak to other royals or command drones, and their presence alone caused the Changelings to sync up far better instinctively. The Protoss were able to feel, think, etc. with their peers, but had enough free will that they still have to be taught things. Ants, bees, etc. are just biologically built and programmed to aid their hive in whatever way they can, even if it means thousands die in the process.

So I was thinking vaguely today about hive minds and how we generally see them in science fiction—you know, a whole bunch of tiny brains in a bunch of tiny bodies, but each one has a shred of extra processing power, so if you add them all together, you get a Super Intelligent Brain that usually winds up called the Queen, because we have perfectly good eusocial insects on earth and why waste nomenclature.

Which is fine for what it does! No argument!

But y’know, running a body is a REALLY brain-intensive process. Like, it takes a metric assload* of evolutionary time before you get a brain that can do more than make sure its owner breaths, blinks, and swallows occasionally. Which makes me wonder about the tipping point for an alien hive mind.

You gotta figure that there is an energy cost, however small, in linking the whole system together, so is there a point where you just have too many bodies to multitask for? A hive horizon, as it were? Where the existence of so many bodies that need regulating becomes a drain on the system instead? Maybe the Queen hatches a mal of new workers to grow the brain bigger and instead just winds up making way too many bodies that all need brain power to breathe and thermoregulate and Jesus Christ, they all need naps, how am I supposed to solve these differential equations about FTL travel when everybody insists on blinking and swallowing all the damn time?!

As an outsider, can you tell if the Queen is losing her shit based on whether the hive members all started doing things simultaneously? Everybody starts blinking and swallowing in unison as the Queen pulls brain power to try and cope with some particular crisis? Chunks of the hive are just left to asphyxiate because sorry, we really need that processing power you were using for semi-voluntary functions like breathing? Are there legends among queens about how if you grow too large, your brain falls apart?

…anyway, these are the things I think about when I’m in the shower.

*this handy unit can be abbreviated as “mal” for ease of notation, as in “Holy shit, there were 3 mal of dead tourists in that guy’s basement!”

[ladyofthe-lake]

"Homestead" — a Suptober ficlet

Summary:

Instead of finding human!Cas working at a Gas ‘n’ Sip, Dean finds him at a beehive. Day 18: Family Business

“The bees are dying,” Cas tells Dean with sincerity. And that’d be all well and good, except, well, Dean can see that the bees are not, just now, dying, because they’re – all over Cas’s fucking arm. He’s carrying them like that, allowing them to swarm him, across the lawn. He’s wearing jeans, a t-shirt, work boots, and a baseball cap. He looks good, he’s got a little stubble.

“Okay,” Dean says slowly, unsure if Cas has lost his marbles once again. Maybe in the fall, maybe in losing his grace, something knocked loose again and he’s back to how he’d been after taking on Sam’s brain demons, as it were.

“I’m going to save them, one at a time,” Cas says, and he slides open the door to one of the hives and allows the bees to release themselves from his arm into it.

“That sounds… real good,” Dean says hesitantly. He’s keeping his distance from the hives. They’re in a large, open yard behind a farmhouse and there are several hives as well as flower beds, vegetable patches, and a chicken coop.

“Unfortunately, with the speed with which bees are dying, it’s affecting the ecosystem,” Cas informs him, finally pushing the final bees from his arm and stepping back from the hive.

And Dean would love to care about that, but dealing with a lot right now, he cannot take on concern for the bees. Maybe later. “Okay, Cas, but shit’s kind of a mess at the moment,” he replies.

Cas nods. “I understand. The angels, Metatron, Sam’s health. It’s all disturbing.” His expression is grave, and Dean knows that he’s not lost his mind, that he has a grip on reality.

He’s just… Cas.

It warms him, and he smiles to see it. That Cas is really here, he’s safe and alive – actually alive, not angel-alive, which is weird, and he’s Cas.

Dean’s felt alone in everything lately. Though he knows he’s got people on his side, good people, Cas is the one he really wants.

“So I’m askin’ for your help here, man,” Dean says. “Some weird shit’s going down, angels are loose cannons everywhere, and–”

“They’re cannons that I placed across the earth, Dean,” Cas responds, moving to the next hive and leaning down to inspect it closely. Dean follows him through the grass.

“Right, so… I’d love your help trying to fix all this,” he ventures.

Cas’s gaze finds him and he straightens up. “You know, they have a wonderful operation going here,” he says, and Dean can tell he’s about to be taken on some metaphorical journey like the angels love to do. Best thing to do is strap in and find out the destination when he gets there. “It’s a homestead, it’s entirely self-sufficient, and they support the local homeless community with the food they produce.”

“That’s great–” Dean knows better than to try to get off the ride early, but he tries anyway.

“I was hungry, and Bethany, the woman who brings the food around to the encampments, spoke with me. She said that they’re always happy to have help here, and well, I happen to know a thing or two about gardens. So I agreed."

“Very cool–”

“And,” Cas’s voice cuts across him again, “now I’m part of something wholly good. There’s no Heaven or Hell here. There are the chickens, the rooster that wakes us all at dawn, the eggs to collect, the beehives, the vegetables.” He looks at Dean, his expression serious, his eyes sad, though his words attempt to be hopeful: “This is a good place, Dean.”

Dean deflates a bit. He knows what Cas is saying, he gets that it’d be nice to be part of a little farm instead of all the shit they’re in on. “People like you and me, we don’t get to choose our life, Cas,” he says.

“But what if we could? What if we set up something like this in Lebanon? We could do it all. Sam could get involved, too, he could figure out the logistics. I can tend to the animals, you can do the planting and building. It could be a family business.”

Dean bites his lip, peers up at the sky for a moment. “Cas,” he says, his voice near breaking. “We already have a family business.”

Cas looks down at himself, at the jeans and t-shirt, the workboots. “I know,” he says quietly. “I’ll get my things.”

[hungry-skeleton]

Now that I've had time to process the game properly I've got some Thoughts™ about Into The Hive.. Spoilers under cut for the 2 people on tumblr that play Chicken Police

First things first, I cannot say with a sound mind that this was a bad game because it wasn't. Into The Hive was a fucking blast up until the final act. The gameplay itself was very fun and the visuals were a huge upgrade from Paint It Red. To get it out of the way, yes I understand that it had a rough development due to covid and publisher changes so I can't be too mad about some jank details. However, some of the writing choices were just. Baffling honestly.

For the Hive itself, I was so hyped to finally see it from all the buildup it had in the first game. Unfortunately I don't think this game really delivered? It wasn't an outright disappointment it was just... Eh? The original game made it seem like a lawless wasteland with corpses and cannibals everywhere but all it really turned out to be was a dirtier city with even more depressed people. I was expecting to walk into a purge movie honestly, but maybe that's my fault. For the Hive being the name of the game we barely did any exploring, I feel like we only scratched the surface of the place and didn't even get to see the worst of it.

The exploration of this game in general just felt less in depth than the first. There's no real optional characters to speak to unlike the first game (which makes the Talkative Breed achievement kinda pointless) and it overall felt more cramped and railroaded. There wasn't any limited time events for special dialogue like in the first game unless you count like.. The Bloodboyle birthday thing that's super easy to miss.

While the characters were fantastic as always the only real problem with them was the seemingly shoehorned "romance" between Sonny and Monica. I know haha I'm the "sonny and marty are super gay" guy but speaking entirely about canon, this just doesn't work. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Monica. She and Sonny's one on one interactions in the later half of the game were great, but there's literally nothing about their relationship that is romantic to me. They're good friends, they have been since the first game, and literally nothing about the way they interacted changed. Yet every character was acting as if there was suddenly sparks flying and unmistakable chemistry. They acted the same towards each other as they always have?? I get that the games theme is moving on but I don't think a new relationship is necessary for Sonny to do that, especially not in the way that it was handled.

The final act is where the issues really become prevalent. This games biggest problem is how obviously rushed the conclusion is. Everything was smooth sailing and really enjoyable until the climax. We didn't get to understand the villains and their motivations the way we did Wessler in Paint It Red. In fact we barely got any time with them. Mick was there for a grand total of 2 minutes before fucking vanishing and all we really got out of him was a half baked backstory that he admitted to way too quickly. Everything culminated in the villains being 3 steps ahead of us the entire time and the grand victory just being shooting the bitch (which Sonny once again couldn't do himself). All this did was make me feel like everything I had done was for jack shit. Every clue and lead a trap that was ended with a single bullet. So unbelievably unfulfilling, even if it was still a victory.

Lastly, of course, the elephant in the room. Marty's death was stupid, plain and simple. Writing out of the way, the logistics just didn't make sense? Did Mick only have one bullet or something? Why'd he drive away after a single shot? Marty's death added literally nothing to the story. It was abrupt, thrown in at the last few minutes of the game, and almost felt sort of... passive aggressive in a way? I don't know how else to put it.. There was an air of insincerity to the entire sequence. If you're going to permanently kill a main character there had better be a good reason and there just wasn't one. I literally cannot fathom why this choice was made. So they didn't have to make anymore games? Okay then just don't? Why'd you have to do that? Marty had a family to return to and Sonny had already made up his mind on leaving Clawville, the end of the Chicken Police was already set in stone.. This just felt like an unnecessary jab at no-one in particular.

Some smaller things that bothered me, rather than answering some older questions the last game set up like the shooting incident they instead chose to not answer anything and throw in a few more questions about Sonny's past that will likely never be answered now. Unless they intend on making prequels of some kind? But even that just doesn't feel right now. You see what needlessly killing a main character does? Lmao. Also for the combining feature in the inventory being added we barely got to use it, I wish there was more use in that.

Characters and voice acting were fantastic as always. But otherwise yeah, that's what was on my mind. It's a solid 6/10. I had a great time but the final act really soils so much of the full experience. Lmk what you few other Chicken Police fans on Tumblr think

OK I'm done yapping now, I'm gonna draw Sonny and Marty kissing sloppy style

[hxvemxnd]

☆～（ゝ。∂）

// Consider this a mini (not) hc dump of some things that have been kinda rolling around in my vacancy of a head, all about Zazie and their swarm hive. This is entirely headcanon, and probably disproved by the manga somewhere, but I'm enjoying making my little bug vibe how they do so y'know. canon divergency smthn smthn--

// Zazie is not a single being - even as the one form you see them. Yes, obviously, they have thousands upon millions of insects that they monitor at all times, but even more than that. Zazie themselves is almost like a 'council', a dozen or so bugs that make up the main collective, who function to keep track of the hive and keep them prosperous. These are your 'queens' of the world, the insects and pests that function in colonies and have a centralized unit by which everything is directed. Zazie as a single unit, the 'human form' you see, is actually that collection of creatures who function to keep their hive running smoothly. Zazie's parts that make them up do die, and as they do they get replaced by new hive that gets shared a cross them the memories of the others and so their life as 'Zazie' continues.

// And on that note - Zazie's swarm hive as I'll call them is a collection of a HUGE variety of species. As symbiotic relationships grew in a barren wasteland of a desert that is our lovely little setting here, the hive became almost more self-aware in a sense? More sentient? Often times Zazie will save species that perform vital roles by introducing them into the swarm hive, and as a result they've collected a huge variety of species - including ones that don't typically adhere to a hive type setting. Y'know. Like the worms. But also arachnids, all variety of insects and pollenators. They aren't necessarily the ones like on Earth, but a lot of them evolved to look very similarly like the dragonflies we see in canon. If just a touch bigger.

// Now, when including species that aren't their own, they have to find a way to communicate. I haven't really thought about the logistics of how it occurred, but the planet is almost magic itself and Zazie is able to use some of that for the good of the planet. They are the living embodiment of the planet, but more that they bend to her will rather than Zazie forcing their own will of sorts. With that all being said - Zazie can mind link any willing creature into the hive mind. This CAN work two ways - but for the most part it usually works one, which is allowing the collective to see into that creature's mind and eyes, and allow them to place thoughts and their own input. This can ALSO work as them allowing you to see the hivemind, of the chaos they deal with day to day... But really only happens when welcoming a new bug into 'Zazie'

// Finally, Zazie's head is a MESS of overstimulation. Even Zazie, who's done this since what has felt like the beginning of time, frequently gets overwhelmed by the sheer size of the swarm hive and has to find somewhere quiet to hide and listen. They feel everything - every bug hunted or eaten alive, the hot sand against the worms that travel or the sun beating down on the insects flying around. It's overwhelming to any normal person - but even the collective struggles with it as multiple beings sharing a single mind. Their mask is used to help them destimulate because it takes away the senses of the collective in favor of focusing on the hive. It can be as limited as taking away sight, or as intense as losing their smell hearing and taste just for a moment of respite. Zazie wearing the mask while interacting is usually indicative of their brain just being a little too loud.

// Holy shit if you read this far THANK YOU and i hope you enjoyed my word vomit about my baby. I plan on making another hc post but throwing it in my queue for tomorrow about the swarm hive's... Hive. Zazie's first home, their true home, even before humans crash landed on their planet. Stay tuned~!

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

HELLO BESTIE

i have a question for you

do you have trouble living in real life?

i mean, i sure do. i have been reading fantasy and fanfiction for so long i legit cannot understand the real world sometimes. it's also hard not knowing what people will do, yk? like, not being able tô delete and rewrite ou just stop reading is so frustrating. this is my daily struggle, and i wanted to know if you go through something similar, being a fanfiction writer and all.

yeah... the real world is ridiculous, honestly

A lot of my writing is based off of real life, so I don't have this disconnect. From the sex to the human dynamics to the conversations, much of it is from actual events I've experienced. This is probably why I rarely write strict fantasy. Especially when I write sex scenes, I had sex (or go off and have sex) to figure out logistics and how to describe specific sensations. I'm a method writer in that sense.

Navigating real life isn't too daunting for me because I already know what I'm getting into (dumbassery, usually). I know the difference between people and a person. You can't reason with people, but you can with a person. A person is made up of all their past experiences and these experiences drive their behavior. This makes them predictable once you understand them. People, as a mass, have hive mind mentality (which is not always bad, but it can be). You can figure out what direction they're thinking since there's usually a trajectory for the hive to follow.

The issue I started to have was that I was looking at everything in life though the lens of, "how can I incorporate this into my writing?" Don't get me wrong, I love writing in general, and especially for this blog, but repeatedly catching myself in this kind of thought process was driving me bonkers bananas. It was like I wasn't really living my life but only thinking about it. Thus, you see I've pulled back on here. I always make efforts to improve specific areas of my life when I'm starting to feel something is off. It's very important to me to have a strong sense of self and live my life for me. I wasn't able to for a long time, so now I'm much more self-aware of prioritizing myself.

I know how I want to live so I'm constantly working to improve and keep myself in a good place.

The real world is ridiculous. Sometimes it's better not to understand (for your sake lmao). With someone new, I approach them with the mindset of learning about them. I don't have any expectations. I remember that just because I don't want to be around someone doesn't mean they're terrible or bad. It simply means I want a different kind of energy in my life at the moment. I trust I like who I like. Never strayed me wrong.

Has made me even more unhinged than I was before but it's ok OK OK LET'S GO *runs*

[graphitesatellite]

Behold, a hc request ✨✨✨

An Mc with 11 cat familiars that follows them around.

fuck yeah this is so fun and chaotic let’s do it ✨✨✨

Asra

he’s never known another magician to have so many familiars, so he’s completely fascinated with all 11 of yours and how they came into your care

he also loves each and every one of them like his own children, knows all of their names and birthdays and favorite treats

it’s extremely impressive to him that you’ve developed so many magical bonds, and he has a lot of questions, like if you can hear 11 distinct voices for each cat or if they act as more of a hive mind, either of which would be so cool

the cats nap frequently just like he does, so they often end up napping together, the more the merrier (and you’re always invited)

Faust enjoys cuddling with your familiars too, though she scurries away soon as they start to play, lest she be mistaken for a toy to wrestle over

you two probably spend a not insignificant amount of time figuring out the logistics of traveling with 11 small mammals and 1 snake

Nadia

if magical cats shed anything like regular cats, it’s gonna take Nadia a minute to get used to the sudden influx of cat hair covering every item she owns, but she’ll find some way to cope with it

she’ll invent the fuckin lint roller if she has to

otherwise she finds your gaggle of familiars delightful and intriguing; she enjoys watching them do their funny little things like rolling on the floor or swatting at each other’s faces or giving themselves (and others) baths

(though she’s sure to give them their privacy when they go to clean their more intimate areas, of course, a countess always minds her manners)

she also enjoys holding them in her lap so she may stroke their soft fur as she puzzles through problems, and all your cats agree she gives the most expert neck scritches around, very thorough and attentive to detail

for Your familiars, regardless of how many, only the highest quality foods and treats will do, so she spares no expense in providing for them; your cats are gonna end up with some really expensive tastes (and possibly some overinflated egos) (as well as a few custom tailored accessories)

having such a large entourage makes it even harder than normal for the two of you to go out in public (discretion basically ceases to exist), but they can serve as a good distraction if you need to make a quick exit, which is quite the invaluable tool for a politician

and I feel like Chandra and the cats have a quiet respectful understanding of each other, but you probably won’t see them getting too friendly

Julian

if all 11 cats pile onto him at the same time, it may create enough force to finally lodge his errant soul back into his body

he’s willing to try as many times as it takes

it takes him a hot minute to adjust to 11 whole cats tho, like they’re super cute and exceptionally entertaining but there’s just So Many of them, it’s a touch overwhelming

cannot overstate how many times he eats shit tripping over wayward kitties (and it’s good physical comedy so no one would blame you for laughing)

the cats are so adorable he can hardly stay mad at them for anything, tho he really wishes they would stop trying to eat Malak

it’s super funny and also pretty sweet how badly Julian wants your cats to like him; he tries sooooo hard, showering them in treats and pets and adoration, then becoming so dejected when they ignore him or wander away

when they start warming up to him, rubbing their cheeks against him and asking for attention, he lights up like an oil lamp, and it’s really nice to see that kind of happiness on his face

Muriel

as someone who lives immersed in nature, Muriel understands that some animals must eat others to survive, but if your cats start snacking on his neighbor chickens he’s gonna get so sad

so if you could have a talk with them about that he would really appreciate it

he’ll in turn have a talk with Inanna about not antagonizing the cats on purpose, no matter how funny or easy it would be

the situation may be somewhat fraught at first, but all the animals will settle in with time, and they may even start to enjoy spending time together, which would be very very cute

he’d probably be more anxious about the sheer number of cats if he felt responsible for keeping track of them, but since they’re your familiars, he feels pretty confident you’ve got a handle on them

mostly he worries about accidentally stepping on them or crushing them in bed, but that’s just because they’re so much smaller than him

and seeing as he’s large and warm and good for laying on, your cats have chosen him as The Ideal Napping Surface, meaning he spends about 100% more time sitting and relaxing than he did before, and I think we can all agree this is a good thing

Portia

FUCK YEAH 11 NEW SIBLINGS FOR PEPI

you’re literally the coolest person she’s ever met and she will tell you this every single day until one of you dies, not even exaggerating

how is she supposed to get anything done now that she has 12 cats to spoil rotten?? 12 wonderful and beautiful children to dote upon and adore forever??

especially since you can talk to them!! and they talk back!!! She always wants to know what y’all are chatting about

she would also like to know if there’s any way for her to obtain multiple cat familiars as well, because if she can, why the hell wouldn’t she, you know??

can you imagine having 22 cats between the two of you? because Portia can, and it sounds like the most magical thing, like a dream come true

tho she guesses she Could settle for 12, if only because it would be harder to go on trips and have adventures if you had too many animals to take care of

Lucio

bet he’s fucking allergic to cats

probably turns into a snot factory as soon as he sees one

your 11 cat familiars surround him and he dies on the spot

and they could eat him, but that would just upset their tummies, and they don’t deserve that

[sailors-fightinginthedancehall]

Season 3, Episode 21!

Oh we're back in this place again. Goddammit I hate this place.

What on earth?

EVERYONE?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!

Well that was a very positive introduction thank you very much I'm feeling very positive

Mack has their kill switches this makes me sad :(

Wasn't designed for what? Have I forgotten where you're going or do I not know?

Oh so that's where they're going then!

Ah but they're not exactly flying when they're in water are they?

Oh. No. The water was just dramatic nevermind.

Oh Talbot's asking nicely!

Defence Logistics Division? They stole the last two words from SHIELD, sue them for copyright

Woah they've resorted to green screen now

"You bet" sounds very reassuring

Woo security feeds!

Fair enough May. Fair enough. Sometimes me too. Other times I'm like "woah that's a nice suit"

YES! GOOD JOB EVERYBODY!

Ooh someone's angry!

"Don't do those things" is such amazing pleading for mercy

Shit shit shit shit that's not good

Very hurtful.

Yeah how dare you Mack regifting is very rude! Especially to the person who gave them to you!

Yes because these Watchdogs with big heads know everything

It's going to be very inconvenient if you make a whole army of these things and call them all Ronald

Sorry not sorry is what Hive means

No you don't Daisy, mind control and brainwashing is different than going willingly

Oh wow "Lincoln you didn't make her happy" that's very rude

HE CAN CONTROL INHUMANS YOU BIG EEJIT GET OUT OF THERE LINCOLN

STOP MAKING ME SAD GUYS :(

Don't make it her bed but maybe like one thing if you think that will be helpful

You could do this the whole time Elena?

That looks worse than killing you honestly

Yes 👍

So who's that one, Ronald-Three?

Turtle Man - Mack's never going to live that down is he

So you've said, Hive. So you've said.

No. No. I don't want you to cross them off.

Or maybe I do. I don't know who them is, you see.

Elena's sarcasm is giving me life I love you Elena

HELL YEAH YOU DID!

Radcliffe is me, I did nothing but I'm like "yes! Good job!"

This makes me feel as if Talbot has betted on WrestleMania and severely regrets it

"I'm a victim :("

Talbot and his Mustache of Authority That's Almost As Scary As Hive™️

Yay Lincoln's in on the team!

Oh no Lincoln's not on the team!

Oh yay Lincoln's temporarily on the team!

So you went and listened to Hive? Lincoln, you know he's full of bullshit

Aw Daisy :(

HE FORGIVES HER :((((((((

You're going to make me cry. You're going to make me cry. Are you happy with what you've done.

Don't be pessimistic! You'll find a cure!

So romantic 🥰

It does look nice!

Simmons, you're VERY romantic.

Fitz you dirty minded man!

This necklace keeps going around the base and it makes me very uncomfortable

The Devil's just based off him, that's all!

Aristotle is probably more interesting than the Bible

The devil is capable of getting your number! Also that. Yeah. Fair point Mack. I'm just obsessed with Blood Brothers. My bad.

Wow I feel really stupid for making a Blood Brothers reference that was really poetic Mack

Oh shit you should RUN

No not O'Brien! :(

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

A BIT?!

THAT'S MORE THAN A BIT, FITZ!

Oh where they going - oh of course.

He's back bitches

He wants a way in.

Oh no. He wants the ship.

Well that's not good. Not very good.

It's practically a non existent hope.

However Daisy is ready to possibly take the same treatment.

He can do it again Daisy GET OUT OF THERE GET THE FUCK OUT DAISY IT'S NOT SAFE DAISY!

DAISY BAD DAISY NO DAISY BAD!

[wannawritefast]

Whiplash: Chapter 1- Playing Defense

A/N: Hey, y’all. I know the prologue didn’t get a whole lot of attention but I’ve written a substantial amount for this and I am VERY proud of how much I’ve written and what I’ve written. Also, huge shoutout to @andtheswordwentsnickersnack​ for beta reading this beast of a fic that I’ve been working on for WAYYYY too long LMAO...

Pairing: BoRhap!Brian May x fem!Reader

Prologue

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, awful men, sexism

You loved your family. Really, you did.

But there were times, and many times they were, that you would have been more comfortable ripping your own hair out strand-by-strand than having to sit through another session of verbal abuse.

You weren’t entirely certain what you had done, if anything, to deserve such discrimination from your grandfather, father, and brother amongst a few cousins and uncles. It was like 3 generations of men in your family had decided to use you as a verbal punching bag.

You still vividly remembered the time you had told them that you didn’t particularly appreciate how they talked to you. They laughed right in your face and told you to grow a thicker skin. That Y/l/n’s were a tougher breed than most and that if you couldn’t handle it then maybe you weren’t of their blood.

October break wasn’t any different. Your family had met up for your annual dinner together aside from Christmas.

“And what about you? When are you going to settle down, Y/n?” your grandfather quipped after shoveling a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “I want some great-grandbabies!”

Before you could even open your mouth in response your brother, James, chimed in. “I wouldn’t count on anyone banging her anytime soon.”

“Well,” you chuckled, “would you look at who’s talking?” James grumbled to himself and threw a pea at you which you successfully evaded. You turned your head to address your grandfather. “And I’m not your only grandchild. You have a grandson too, you know.”

You nodded toward your brother and your grandfather hardly even blinked at the last sentence. He either didn’t hear you or didn’t care. Proof that he used any and every opportunity to undermine you. Your grandfather scoffed and mumbled to himself gruffly.

You practically heard your father’s eye roll. “Your career is only so fulfilling.”

“Dad, I’m an astrophysicist and a damn good one, I’d like to think. If my career wasn’t fulfilling enough, I’d be seriously questioning all of the time and money I spent at university writing my thesis and graduating top 5 in my year.” You took a bite out of your roll. Why did you have to defend yourself every time you came home? It was exhausting!

“I’m just saying that you aren’t fully happy until you’ve settled down.”You rolled your eyes at your father. You didn’t have the time to focus on your love life. You barely had time to do your studies as it was. Furthermore, no man you had met seemed to like you after finding out you were an astrophysicist. Nobody seemed to click with you well.

“Why do I need more than my career to be fulfilled in life?” You asked seriously.The whole table laughed at your question. Even the kiddie table laughed but it was just hive mind reflex. You certainly did want to get married and have a family someday but you were making a point to your father. Who was he to dictate what made you happy?

“Please, Y/n,” James piped up again, “that’s what lonely people say to feel better about themselves.”

Ouch. That one stung more than you should have let it. You took a drink to keep yourself from letting a tear roll.

“Who ever said that she’s single?” Your sister spoke suddenly. You coughed and sputtered on your drink. Your neck turned to Donna so swiftly that you probably could have snapped it.

“Are you implying that my eldest daughter is dating a boy,” your mother raised her brows at you conspiratorially, “and didn’t tell me? Is it that smart, goofy boy you fancied at university for the longest time?” She couldn’t seem to keep a grin from spreading across her face.You flushed red at her question. Nobody needed to know that. Except now they did because you were, apparently, no longer single. Everybody at the table locked their eyes on you, muttering to each other. You looked at your sister in panic.

“Go on,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before bringing her cup to her lips. “Tell them about your boyfriend.”

Gee thanks… She had just started digging you into a hole.“Wait just a second! Let’s rewind a moment.” James questioned incredulously. “My sister, the stick in the mud astrophysicist, has a boyfriend? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”

“It’s not relevant who I may or-” you looked at your sister pointedly; she fiddled with her fork “-may not be dating.” The fact that James wasn’t buying it was making you quite nervous. You were more offended though than anything. “Is it really so hard to believe that I’d be dating someone?”

“Yes!”

“Believe it, James” Donna insisted, pointing her fork at him. Put down your damn shovel!

“Have you banged him?” Your brother asked in the silence.

You picked up your drink and splashed him in the face. Your mother softly scolded you for your actions but you were completely unapologetic for what James more than deserved. How you shared the same DNA with such a tool was beyond you… 

“That is hardly your business,” you snipped. You turned and stared down Donna. You were going to have to tell them the truth…

“Ok, that’s quite enough,” your mother stopped everything. Oh, thank the Lord. “We’re here to talk about your sister not her boyfriend.” Thank you, mother. “She’ll just have to bring him over for Christmas!”

You stood up from your chair and it scraped along the floor. What had you done…“That’s ridiculous! What if he wants us to spend time with his family for Christmas?” Why were you even going along with this? Why were you defending your hypothetical boyfriend?

“Then you can split the time between the two!”

“What if he doesn’t want to meet you guys yet?” You suggested. This hole is getting awfully big, Y/n. “Meeting parents is a big deal!” The statement came out as more of a question than a defense. You were honestly hoping for one, just one, objection to stick. “I don’t want to scare him off.”

“Who wouldn’t want to meet us?” Your mother asked. You resisted the urge to answer the question.

“Well, what if we’re not even together anymore by that time?”

“Wow, you really can’t hold onto a man for that long, Y/n? It seems to me like you would have been making this whole thing up if you are ‘broken up’ by then.” James finished wiping his face with a napkin after his encounter with your drink. You locked eyes with him. He was onto you.

“I’m not making this up,” you lied. Apparently you hadn’t put down your shovel yet either.“Then bring him home for Christmas,” James challenged. “Otherwise we’ll know it's a lie.”

Your family was on the edge of their seats and, for the time being, the logistics of the challenge didn’t matter. You were fed up with your brother constantly tearing you down. You were tired of your father not being pleased with anything you did. And you were exhausted by your grandfather’s insistence that you were nothing more than a source for great-grandkids. You got no respect at work and you certainly didn’t get any damn respect at home.

And so you did it. You extended your arm toward your stupid brother’s stupid hand and grasped it firmly with a shake.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, brother dearest.”

[{...}]

Eventually the extended family left and you went to your sister’s bedroom since you were sharing the room and the bed for break.

“Why in the bloody hell would you do something like that?!” You lowered your voice so that your family, more specifically James, wouldn’t hear you. Your sister sat on the bed cross-legged, fiddling with the ends of her hair.

“I’m sorry!” Donna yelled. You shushed her as you brushed your hair. “I couldn’t just watch. James crossed a line with that comment. I just wanted to wipe that stupid smile off of his dumb face.”

“Watch your language, why don’t you?” You teased. She rolled her eyes at you. “But I was fine, honestly. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be!” You hissed at Donna to be quiet again. “It was nice for them to shut up for a few moments and see you as a normal human being.”

Your heart was warm but you were in a state of complete panic. “That’s such a sweet sentiment in such a terrible circumstance!” You dug your fingers into your temples and threw yourself onto the bed. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just go up to a guy and say ‘I need you to be my fake boyfriend because my sister dug me into a bloody hole’! You know I can barely get guys to talk to me on a casual basis!” Your voice dropped in volume, no louder than a whisper. “What makes you think that I can get one to play my boyfriend?” You let out a frustrated sigh.

“I honestly did not foresee the consequences of my actions and I am very sorry.”

“Do you think?” You growled to yourself. “Bloody hell… what am I going to do?”

Your sister scratched the back of her neck. “I mean, you have time… It is only October…”

“But I’m going to have to find someone eventually… if I find one.” You gnawed on a fingernail.

“You’ll be fine!” Donna breathed. She curled herself into the blankets next to you. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Yeah…,” you inhaled deeply, “and I’ve got time…”

[snowtimeisbesttime]

Thoughts and questions on Hiveswap Act 2– Part 1.

**DISCLAIMER** I haven't played through the entire game yet! I got to the intermission in the whole trial thingy, and will continue tomorrow! Therefore, I Am Not Looking at anything yet, only posting. I'll probably come back and edit this once I've actually finished the game.

-Did the default names for Xefros & Dammek's lusii change?? I loaded my Act 1 save, and I'm sure they had their default names (Zoosmell and Cornibuster) there, though I'm also pretty sure i accidentally unlocked the “name the lusii” achievement on that save by clicking on the text windows without actually changing their names so... Dammek's lusus is called Toothy now i guess?

-On that note, if Xefros' lusus died I'm going to fucking scream. Even though I'm pretty sure we've barely seen him on screen since like the end of Act 1 but Regardless.

-We see Charun's cave, and it turns out they were neighbours with Zebede all this time, but they're nowhere to be seen at the train?? unless they grabbed an earlier one... Charun did get a death flag the size of the pacific ocean, when interacting with their weird sculpture with a lot of legs and arms surrounding a mouth, but Zebede's just gone without a trace? The bees are gone and there's a hole in the side of his hive, but his lusus doesn't seem to be particularly upset? And neither is Charun's, assuming that huge bug near the cave is their lusus. (Idarat the canon fantroll #3 doesn't appear at the train either, but that's probably for the same reason there aren't any jade or teal background characters: to keep the court scene neat)

-The drones are supposed to be en route to the station, supposedly to fix the ticket machines but probably to cull whoever tripped the alarm on them... i sure hope they don't follow the train or anything orz

-Mostly everyone seems to resemble their respective Friendsims, more or less:

Fozzer appears to be scratched still, yet more philosophical. Also he's not in the train either.

Folykl seems just a touch friendlier than in her friendsim (and Kuprum's still just as hyped about becoming a helmsman as before, even if he seems to know more details about it now).

Chixie's more anxious, probably because it seems she's been doing stuff as The Mask for a while now, and she's going to fuck shit up at Jeevik Week. She says she's not alone in that, and considering it's apparently confirmed that the random troll from her good end Was Dammek all this time... is she also actively in the rebellion? Also is it just me or does her sprite look somewhat scribblier than everyone else's? Even the background characters??

Elwurd's pretty much the same, and it does seem her flirting with Joey was mostly to try and get her to buy something. Also... if her fake tickets were so good, why didn't she just use them, instead of giving them to Joey and Xefros? Like, I get Marvus and Boldir Knowing Stuff, but her?

Zebruh's paying attention to Marvus instead of Chixie, which. Small mercies. He's still a dick, and we're still doing the whole “clowns are peak oppressed” thing.

Marvus seems to still be perfectly nice to the main characters, and perfectly willing to let other people die in order to help them advance (getting Zebruh to sign up for Slam or Get Culled, Daraya if you fuck up in the trial thing, Hopefully Not Any More Cases...) He is helping Tyzias out with her defensive legislaceration experiments, though, and basically everyone who isn't Joey seems to think he might flip his shit and murder someone, as clowns do. At least people don’t seem to lose their minds around him anymore.

Vikare's basically the same, but Joey immediately picks up on his Jake Vibes and instinctively dislikes him.

Diemen eats people???????? as in, actively????????? wtf?????????

Skylla seems to be pretty much the same, but she's obviously worried because Ladyy's sick!! God I fucking hope we do get to help her out before the end of the game.

Marsti's also friendlier than she was in her volume, though I remember MSPAR was particularly prone to sticking their foot in their mouth in that one.

Cirava's surprisingly more trusting than they were in their volume (and also, their eye's light green and not teal). Also, apparently they gouged their other eye out on stream?????? as in live???? besides that, good to see not All of the powerful psionics get succesfully indoctrinated.

Polypa's also rather willing to help out, though we still don't know what the heck happened to her.

Boldir's suitably mysterious, and probably also involved with the rebellion... she does call Xefros “burgundy figurehead”.

Konyyl and Azdaja are still having relationship stuffs, but in the end they clearly care the most about each other. (he still doesn't seem to give a fuck about helm stuffs so far?) The question is, who exactly were they hunting down??

The jades and the teals are basically the same as their Friendsim incarnations, as far as I've seen. The one major change to the jades (besides jade lore which i'll discuss further down) seems to be that hatched2dance is now one of the biggest reasons for their fights, and Bronya does get a crunchy bit of Backstory (the jade from her past that got culled because of the Rainbow Hemotions saga, which is also the reason she's so hard on Daraya now)

On the teals, Stelsa and Tyzias seem to have a teensy bit of quadrant vacillation going on?? Tirona seems to be more focused on becoming a history revisionist than a memeagandist now, and it would also seem that Tegiri's the one into vampires now (or at least, Tagora's better at hiding it And a lot better at not getting involved with the whole mess that is whatever the heck the jades are doing)

-Psionics can have single-colored eyes!! tbh we'd already seen this back in Tegiri's route in Friendsim but it's good to Actually See it visually.

-Also, nice to see that Xefros *can* go toe to toe with the strongest psionic we know in all of Hiveswap! (95% sure that I've seen someone theorize something like this might happen?? I personally wasn't expecting it here but anyways Xefros you're doing amazing sweetie) What's not so nice is that he's only shown this strength when Azdaja hurt Joey (as far as i've played of course)... so unless he like unlocks his potential or something so he can do Big Psychics without seeing his friends get hurt beforehand we're in for some Angst.

-Also if Marvus got his ticket from Cridea (and Chixie won hers in like a raffle or something) then why couldn't she have given Xefros and Dammek some?? like, Dammek's been to one Jeevik Week already. Fiamet also told her about Joey, but by then they were already in the train.

-Me: Xefros' microphone's going to be important in act 2! Also me: *has to give it to fucking Zebruh to get his ticket*. Oh well, that's one thing for the Second Playthrough of Achievement Getting (plus: wearing the cone horns, having Joey introduce herself to Boldir, getting through the whole ace attorney segment without game overs...)

-We get the Quadrant Explanation #1000, sans auspisticism.

-It's vaguely implied that Dammek has also read some Soldier Purrbeasts books?? He's told Xefros the whole “death creates a bond deeper than matespritship or kismessisitude” thing, apparently! So if he's not secretly into troll warrior cats then. That sentence's more than mildly worrying??

-JADEBLOOD LOREDUMP PART THE NTEENTH: Okay first of all it's implied that More cloisters exist? Which in retrospect is pretty much obvious because you can't expect only six trolls to take care of All the troll grubs in existence. Also, the reason jades can't sneak out of the caverns anymore is “because they get Drone'd”, and it seems to be implied that they Can't go out At All*, which kinda contrasts with Friendsim (where literally all the jades snuck out of the caverns at least once: Lanque, Daraya and Wanshi in their own routes, Lynera in Vol 18, and Bronya in Vols 6 & 18). One of their tasks seems to be guarding Forbidden Literature, and Xefros states that they either cull or indoctrinate the most powerful psychic grubs.

-It's also stated that all of our jades were chosen for the cloister when they were basically wrigglers, while Lynera states in Friendsim that she's only been 2,43 sweeps in the caverns. (Considering Bronya's new backstory, it seems that capability to become a rainbow drinker ISN'T the qualifying factor for getting cloistered– depending on how exactly that jade died). It comes to mind that regular, non-cloistered jades might not really know about all these logistics, as it seems that at least Bronya wants to keep them secret– and therefore I don't have to go back and re-rewrite yet another chunk of Mirrorbent orz.

-Lastly, Xefros says they will all become nuns (btw, space church was mentioned in Lanque's route!) when they reach their Ordeals, and we already knew they'd be forced to live in isolation from Friendsim, but during the ace attorney thingy Lynera says she's NOT going to leave the planet because she'll become a midwife and tend to the Mother Grub (basically what we all thought jadebloods did back when we only had the ancestor stuff on Homestuck)... but either Daraya or Lanque told her that they weren't real? So either there's more jade propaganda that we didn't know about, or...

-*The one exception to this is, coincidentally, Jeevik Week, and it's apparently because Trizza herself made it so jades could go too, 3 or 4 sweeps before Hiveswap... why's that? What's so important about Jeevik Week that Trizza would do this? Iirc Cridea and Trizza were sort of set up as opposing forces (?? words), all the way back from the first bunch of concept arts we saw of them? The first thing we learnt from Trizza was that she was the “second best at memes”, and on Cridea's first appearance, when troll twitter was still Prongle, she said that some chick was stealing her memes... and now, Cridea has exactly one follower less than Trizza, who everyone in Alternia's forced to follow... would that person be the heiress herself?

[barnesandco]

Nikah: March

Story Masterlist

Nikah: noun, Arabic, meaning the contract of marriage.

Bucky marries Peter’s former tutor because her student visa’s about to expire and the government isn’t granting her a green card. Can she find a way to permanent residence by marriage, and if so, will it be at the cost of their hearts?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None.

A/N: Written under the Arranged/Accidental Marriage trope for @mermaidxatxheart​ ‘s writing challenge. Thank you all for reading and commenting! (Picture below is mine, btw)

Bucky’s birthday arrives amidst blooming flowers and a pollen-scented breeze, the day marked by preparations for a party Sam is throwing for him at one of the hotels downtown. Avengers and close friends only, yet he’s spared no expense, insisting on a proper welcome back. The captain is unrelenting in matters of social activity, especially since he has been spending minimal time with his teammates since his marriage. Marriage. He shakes his head at himself in the floor length mirror as he straightens his cuff-links and moonlight catches on the gold band on his finger. It no longer feels like a burden.

Rather, it’s a seed that’s been planted on him, and it’s taken root inside him, growing, growing, growing into a steady feeling of friendship with the person he wears it for. An understanding, a companionship. He refuses to confess to anything more, even within the confines of his own mind. His heart, on the other hand, has no compunctions about making its opinion known, setting off like a hare being hunted whenever she approaches. Most dangerous assassin in the world, defeated by her smile.

She offers him one now when she enters, picture perfect elegance very nearly succeeding in concealing her nerves. Bucky’s nerves, meanwhile, are on fire at the sight of her, sensory overload short-circuiting his brain. He finally turns to look at her directly and the fox-hunt pace of his heart stumbles, stutters to a stop.

“You- you’re- jeepers,” Is all he can manage, the rosewater blush deepening on his cheeks. It has the opposite of the desired effect, and she steps back, mascaraed eyes widening, horrified.

“It’s too much, isn’t it. Oh God, I knew I should’ve-”  She begins to reach for a tissue box on the dresser and Bucky stops her. Lowers her hand slowly and keeps a hold of it, as if she will float away otherwise.

“Jesus, doll, stop. You’re perfect,” He tells her, and she slips her hand away but smiles a little as she sits on the foot of the bed - their bed - to put on her shoes.

“Thank you. You look nice, too,” She says, lifting the hem of her black gown as she pulls on pearl white heels. The matching clutch - pearl encrusted - is on the bedside table, and he hands it to her as they leave the room and then the apartment. 

“Hang on, your tie is loose,” She says the moment they enter the elevator. He can’t even press the button for the ground floor while she holds him in place. The split-second it takes for her to wrap her hands around the green silk and pull it tighter stretches into hours, the graze of her knuckles gentle in his cotton-covered chest. He has enough time to carve the shape of her cupid’s bow into his mind, the descent of her jaw to her chin into his lungs. After half an eternity, she puts distance between them again and presses the button while he tries to smooth his hair back only to feel the short strands tickle between his fingers, and he remembers cutting it last week.

The lobby is bustling, people coming and going like bees in a hive, and they nod their hellos and offer the doorman a Good evening before getting in the car Sam sent. The seats are cold and comfortable, and the chauffeur tips his hat once in the rear-view mirror before putting the Rolls Royce into gear.

“ ‘Possess ye, therefore, ye who borne about In chariots and sedans, know no fatigue’ ” She murmurs, letting her fingers trace the stitching in the butter-soft leather. 

“Marlowe?” Bucky asks, turning away from the New York evening, that special, streetlights-reflecting-on-wet-asphalt evening, to look at his wife. 

“William Cowper. The Task.”

“I think I’ve read that one,” He lies, fully prepared to come clean, and she looks at him curiously. 

“Wow, really? Even I haven’t read all six books,” She says, dubiously verging on impressed, and Bucky drops the facade.

“I’m pullin’ your leg. I’ve read some of Cowper’s work. Don’t remember much, but bits and pieces of school are still there,” He explains, all cheeky smile. “What’s it about? And why in God’s good name is it six books long?” This - the conversation, letting her talk about her work, her passion for literature - this he can do. Playful questions intermingling with genuine intellectual interest is manageable. Her beauty, her grace, the cloud of perfume that bleeds into his veins and makes his lungs strive for air, is not. So he concentrates on what he knows. Or doesn’t know, apparently.

“Honestly, what isn’t The Task about?” She laughs, eyeshadow glimmering like stardust in the smile wrinkles in the corners of her intelligent eyes. “Cowper had a bit of a breakdown during his barrister training in London, and retired to the countryside. In 1781, he met his friend Lady Austen, who later gave him a task to write about, to cheer him up. He started, and then just followed that train of thought wherever it took him.”

“Which book is that line from?” Bucky asks as the car stops in the inevitable Friday night traffic jam. At least they accounted for it, leaving early on purpose to avoid tardiness.

“I don’t actually remember. I think it’s from an extract in which Cowper criticizes the superficial pleasures and unnecessary luxuries of city life,” She answers, opening her clutch. Her phone and a tube of lipstick peek out but she reaches deeper for a pair of earrings.

Closing her eyes, she fastens the first one on the side Bucky can’t see, the other crescent-moon shaped accessory in her silk draped lap. The flower made from pearls matches her bracelet, the two pieces of jewellery clinking together as she puts on the other one.

“City life, huh?” Bucky muses, trying desperately to calm his heart. The earrings dangle, contrasting wonderfully against her simple black gown, and he swallows. She looks like royalty.

“Yeah, many poets of the time wrote a lot about the beauty of nature. They had a lot more of it at their disposal, I guess,” She shrugs.

“Do you have any favorites?” “Nature poems? I don’t know. There are so many good ones. Wordsworth’s To the Cuckoo, Herrick’s Daffodils, Yeats’ Wild Swans at Coole, Tennyso-” She cuts herself off with a huff of a laugh at herself.

“What is it?” 

“Nothing, no- I just-” She laughs again, trying to wave her hand like she’s shooing a fly. “I just have conflicting feelings about these poems by classical authors who write about nature. Poems that express a keen appreciation of beauty yet are fillled with sadness because so many beautiful things are short-lived and because human life itself is so short,” She says, twirling the ring around her finger, deep in thought. Bucky doesn’t know how he found her. This simple, wise soul, in the midst of all the chaos of the world. The chaos of resettlement. 

The chaos of the kitchen, an hour before dinner as the Avengers prepare dinner together, is unholy. Sam’s panicking about dessert while Wanda stirs the marinara sauce for spaghetti in her signature demure fashion, while Peter’s pile of handmade spaghetti grows taller and the pasta dough shrinks. His phone lights up on the table, and Bucky - kneading more dough nearby - is the only one who notices. He calls for Peter and pushes it over to him, not knowing what the point of having a phone is if it’s always going to be on silent, but Peter holds it out to him after just a moment of conversation.

Bucky reads the caller ID on the top and sees who it is, closing the kitchen door behind him, flour on his black t-shirt, as she speaks.

“Hi, Bucky. I hope I’m not disturbing.” 

“No, not at all. Have you decided?” He asks, pacing the hallway, staying out of sight of the others. Not that it matters, they’re still fairly busy. She had seemed unsure when they met, and he had given her time to decide it she wanted to do this. 

“Yeah, but I just- this is a huge favor,” She says.

“Not to me, doll. I’m just helping a friend of a friend,” He says, and it isn’t entirely true. That isn’t why he’s doing this. Something in him wanted to help, wanted to repay the debt of kindness that he owes the world. This is how he wants to do it, although he doesn’t think it’s fair that he gets to choose his penance.

“I thought you said Peter talks your ears off.” Bucky cringes, grateful she can’t see his face, even though he can hear the joking lilt of her tone.

“He’s a good kid. And I want to do this. Do you?” 

“Yeah.” A lengthy pause, heavy and tangible, even across the phone line. 

“When do you want to get married?” She asks finallly, voice shaking. His hand is, too. 

“We have a week-long mission right after Christmas. Boxing day arms deal in Sao Paulo,” He replies, cursing the Brazilian gangs who could find no other time do get up to no good. Evil doesn’t go on vacation, and neither do the Avengers.

“So… New Year’s Eve?” She asks, doing the math. He realizes that’s true. A week from Boxing Day.

“Yes. Shit, you don’t have a ring-” He begins to say, freaking out about the logistics. He didn’t even propose properly.

“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.” “Alright, I’ll see you then.”

“Bye Bucky.”

“G’night.” He bids her farewell, then looks at the phone, asking himself what the hell he’s just gotten himself into. A knot builds and twists in his body, and he tries to loosen it. Breathes, and makes his way back.

“I’m engaged,” And the kitchen freezes in time as they all drop everything - not literally, Sam’s holding a knife - to look at him. The smile on Peter’s face is brighter than the Christmas tree in the adjacent common room, and the somersaults in Bucky’s stomach only settle at the sight of his relief.  

It seems that his teammates gave him a later time on purpose, because they’re all ready, dressed to the nines and wine-tipsy, waiting for him when they enter. It’s a small ballroom, downtown Manhattan, quaint and graceful. A chorus of Happy Birthday erupts in the room, and he smiles and thanks them. The hugs pile on, and he begins to introduce his wife to his friends. Home away from home for the man who has never had one since the 1940s - until he met her, that is. She’s home now, though he wouldn’t tell her that.

Instead, he relishes in the grin she offers him between introductions, till Sam drags him off to stand him on a chair and sing a birthday song. The party commences in much a similar fashion, too much noise in the room for a couple of dozen people. He stays away from Thor’s alcohol, knowing she doesn’t drink, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. 

He’s just thinking about how she might be dealing with the hectic atmosphere when her hand slips into his while he’s talking to Harley Keener about letting him look at his arm. He’s shocked, looks at her to see her smiling and concentrating only on the conversation, but he can tell she’s tired. It’s been hours, and he knows he can’t leave early - it’s his party - but he just wants to slip those heels off her feet and sit and talk, still in partywear, for hours on end. Let her quote Byron and Cowper and Austen to him, poems and essays and books, until he falls asleep on their sofa. Instead, her voice says something he isn’t expecting at all.

“Is it possible to put some sort of temp regulation in it?” She asks curiously, head tilted to the side like a sparrow. Harley thinks it over for only a second.

“Of course, why?”

“It hurts in the cold. He rubs and rolls his shoulder a lot in the winter,” She answers, and the thoughtful observation astounds him. It’s accurate, but it hadn’t even occurred to him, the movements that she’s citing entirely subconscious. They talk to Harley for a while longer, and then dance to several of Bucky’s favorite songs. Billie Holliday is crooning in the background as the second-to-last guest exits, leaving only his wife and his captain and his deputy director. When the door shuts behind them, they break apart, and Sam and Maria approach, ready to call it a night.

The car ride home passes in complete silence, a comfortable weight resting like a blanket between them, so much so that she falls fully asleep on the way, her head resting against the cold window when they arrive. He doesn’t have the heart to wake her, so he goes around to her door, opening it slowly and lifting her into his arms, not caring what it might look like to onlookers. It’s late, and there are few of them, at least in the lobby, and as the elevator doors shut, her head curls against his shoulder, hair tickling his Adam’s apple.

Bucky looks down at her, her resting, easy expression, the chandni earrings still on, and thinks: what a way to turn 103.

Taglist:  @suz-123​ @mermaidxatxheart​ @buckyreaderrecs​ @shield-agent78​ @corneliabarnes​ @readerandcinephileingeneral​ @stevieboyharrington​ @notsomellowmushroom​ @veganfangirl5​ @mood-pancakes​ @lbuck121​ @starnight-charmer​

[shy-magpie]

RQG 153

And we're 30 seconds in and I just got hit by the realization Azu isn't going to see the sky for a week. I know its not under water in enemy territory but that also means she doesn't have a mission to distract her. I love Cel! Zolf tries to do a leadership and prep them for what to expect (since they don't need the element of surprise this time) so Cel changes form because rats are more easily entertained. Alex has to come in with the restrictions but still a nice way to remind Zolf this is not the nice neat chain of command he remembers. Yeah reverting is better than "ha ha you're now a rat all week". OctoCel! Nice! Zolf is declaring Family Game Night. Speaking of leadership, Hamid remembers this isn't season 1 and thanks Zolf instead of asking the reasonable but not productive questions of where this was last time. Alex points out the space issue again. Still not sure if he did this on purpose as a way to poke at the party and see how they react or if he just didn't design the space big enough last time and refuses to retcon an extra cell into the basement. TBF if there had been 2 cells last time, Hamid & Azu sharing wouldn't have made sense and if they couldn't hug the fandom might have never forgiven Zolf & Wilde. Oh Cel can change 4 times a day Zone of Truth or Dare Not sure if he is joking or not but Zolf getting out of conversation by melting into a wall is an image Thanks Lyd! Hamid "is fine and he can snuggle up with Azu". Thanks Bryn! Barnes makes Carter switch  so he can get some sleep Hamid is such a good person. He isn't trying to charm or justify, it isn't about abstract team cohesion. He just gives a sincere apology for not following the rules because even if he doesn't understand, he does trust that Zolf wouldn't hold him to them without reason. Zolf is great too, and tells Hamid it isn't needed Zolf has grown so GD much! He just cited his leaving and prompted Hamid to ask any questions. Oh I want everything on those 18 months but maybe Hamid shouldn't press when its so hard for him, especially when he can't leave the room if things get rough? I am so conflicted. Thats my little leader, immediately switches the focus to working together again. Ow "honestly we were never that good at working together anyway" so no rosy glasses on Zolf. Helen's gasp is, as ever, a mood Zolf still has that negative charisma. I can't explain how much I like that his mental health kick didn't turn him into a different person. Him tripping over his tongue on things like this is part of why he isn't a Zolf in name only, like I feared when I found out we were getting him back after his breakdown. Aw Azu & Cel offer them the illusion of privacy as Hamid  pretends he isn't hurt. I love Cel's hammock and their shipping. Pausing before it can be jossed, don't think he can duck this time. Called it. Okay but he did admit he cares about Wilde just not romantically and canon doesn't have to see eye to eye with fic. Carter tried to date Wilde? Or at least pursued him? God bless Hamid is cutting straight to the rank issue. Look I know I have a proper thing about rank and that respecting Hamid's growth means not treating him like season 1, but people need to know who is calling the shots in time sensitive, dangerous situations. The proper response to the suggestion they fight it out is not to point out logistical barriers Zolf points out that if Hamid actually fought they would all die which is a heck of a double edged statement. It respects his power while pointing out the collateral damage. Then he points out he would win in a no magic fight which is true but if Hamid doesn't already have a complex about his self worth & magic I'd be amazed. Azu tries to declare they aren't doing this while Hamid comes in with the lore. Because Bryn loves the listeners and wants us to be happy. Ooh if the claws aren't magic magic what about the rest? not that I want him to get pissed enough to breathe fire or whatever it was that got him scaley but at least he can't isn't relying on his wits if they encounter one of these fields in the field. Is Carter being Carter or is he stealing Wilde's bit of uniting the party in hating him? The irony that explaining why Zolf should lead is the single best proof of Hamid's leadership skills is not lost on me. A real leader puts the good of the party above any desire for rank or power. Not sure if this counts as yelling should probably mark as starting around 10 minutes in for CWs Ok I don't know why I am so pleased and surprised at these two having a direct conversation with past incidents as examples using clear language like "I was frustrated". I mean lord knows RQ told toxic masculinity to take a hike from the beginning so maybe its less surprised than grateful? They don't agree but are clearly more concerned with understanding than with getting in a pissing match. "...And I guess I'm not that old because I haven't lived through the 18 months" Look at him learning to stand up for himself while still being fair to the other side. How can you not love him? Bless, Hamid is worse than me, if I talk quick enough the right words will come out before I run out of courage right? I love the peanut gallery. Oh dear that's a tone on Zolf I'm just going to take a moment before the "but" comes in. Zolf is being fair, I don't necessarily agree but he is being fair and sounds willing to listen. Hamid spells it out in small words that the flippant tone is a coping mechanism. Zolf wants to move on to the rest of the party now that they've said what needed to be said to each other. Yeah sorry Carter, Hamid isn't going to let Zolf get lost in his own head any more than Zolf is going to let Hamid run into danger because if he thought about it he would freeze. And Carter & Barnes are sharing all the tricks. Guess Hamid isn't the only one who does better if he can merc a guy after a hard week They are having a direct conversation about Zolf leaving! Backstory! So it was a debt more than a calling Brynterval, useful I needed a laugh break too and this way I don't miss anything. They are keeping up the relationship metaphor for all its worth. It really does work though. Azu quit alluding and tell us your story. Aw he's retelling Dover! I ever tell you guys that's when I quit waiting for him and or RQ to show their bad side? The damn romance novels were like a promise they weren't going to betray the story over "what's expected". I was so braced for that stupid "pick a fight with the toughest guy in the yard to buy respect" trope. Instead they just said nope: no prison fights, no guard abuse, his biggest danger is developing an addiction to cheap books. Thank you Cel! Hamid mentioning Mr Ceiling reminds Zolf that still have Shoin's brorb. Oh the diary Zolf has more Campbells Cel is awesome and asks if Hamid want to talk about Aziza Liliana finally got mentioned, realizing Hamid was the last to know about that part of the story hurt So they might be a hivemind Carter has a nice little cache in the cell of daggers & a wide variety of booze. Carter suggests they should get so drunk their minds aren't worth hiving. Oh Cel & the Elvish mead Carter is drinking the Orcish whiskey to make a point Yeah, yeah, how the heck Hamid came through not only his life preseries but this adventure with a healthy relationship with alcohol is beyond me. Not a patch on his experience and I'm teetotal. That's arguably why it's important to have though (plus if they went anywhere with an alcoholism plot I probably won't be able to listen) Barnes has the rum and is Jeff Goldblum posing. I love one(1) low charisma man. Zolf is trying to draw Azu & Cel into conversation. Azu backstory time! A vision of Aphrodite in her dream led her to follow a wandering paladin. Little leader tucks Carter in Azu asks for Cel backstory Cel is around 97, and they were raised in America. Their Dad was a merchant sailor. The trade cut off and defenses failed destroying the town. Its time to give Hamid crap about capitalism. Zolf tells Barnes to leave off. Zolf joined the Navy because he "killed his brother"!?! Wanna try that again with details? Oh Zolf honey it was an accident. Hamid hugs Zolf while he talks. Zolf says all that then knocks stone out of ceiling in a demonstration of his powers. Hamid remembers Zolf wasn't in Cairo and starts describing the prank gone wrong and I'm just gonna take another sec because if Zolf doesn't take this the right way its gonna hurt. Did Hamid just quote Grizzop at Zolf?   Cel just declared they are staying with the party Just barely through the first quarantine episode. We might hit the same ratio as the dungeon after all. Gosh I love that theme tune

[ad1ostoreador]

>> View the mirthhive mirror...

(...or, a purposeful encounter between @fiduspawn-master and @ad1ostoreador, featuring several counts of awkwardness, an emotional shock, a missing moon, and at least one dragon.)

ad1ostoreador: It didn't take much preparation, for Tavros to be ready to go.  A poncho-like cloak, thrown over his folded wings, a small spare bladeleaf-woven basket hooked over one arm, filled with crumbly orange bits of bark chocolate, and an uncertain scratch of the back of his head, before he was inspecting his wrist transportalizer and keying in the right coordinates.

The transportalizer went vworp, with its usual disorienting stutter, and he lifted a hand in greeting, as he appeared on the other side and gave his head a tiny shake to rebalance himself.  "Uh.... hey?"

It was hard, sometimes, to know just how timelines would diverge, and what quirks would strike a passer-by as strange... but the amount of color he was wearing, between the poncho and his loose, patterned pants, would likely be quite odd on any Imperial Alternia, especially for a lowblood.  The fact that he was stubbornly shoeless, maybe, too, but after sweeps of feeling nothing, he was largely uninterested in having anything between his feet and any possible source of sensation, and running around on a beach and through woods all the time for the past months had done quite a lot to toughen them up, post-pupation.  Adult pupation itself had left him well over six feet tall, with hide darker than wiggler-gray, both from frequent sun (freckling included) and from chitin reinforcing it, and his eyes had long since filled in bronze. His hair was a bit shaggy on the sides of his mohawk, in the absence of a recent shave, and showed hints of lighter bronze in streaks through the black, there.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros spent the few minutes it would take for the other Tavros to arrive nervously tidying things around his hive. He was naturally a very fastidious troll, but it was a hard thing to keep up all the time in his condition. He was putting his dishes away when he heard the noise he now recognized as a visitor appearing just outside his hive.

The wind was still racing in from the sea, its constant whisper joined by the creaking of the windmill turning high above and the roar of the waves crashing against the cliffs. A few hop and cluckbeasts that had scattered in fear at the strange phenomenon were starting to wander back as Tavros opened the door to greet--

Oh man. He looked up at the familiar, unfamiliar figure standing in front of his hive. It was like looking in a mirthhive mirror. Seeing an adult was still somewhat alarming in and of itself, (even though he was basically an adult himself) And seeing one that was post molt was even more wild, not to mention one that was kind of him...

This might actually be weirder than meeting Bull...

He was staring- "Uhhhhh, H-hi!" He raised a hand in a stiff, awkward wave. "Do you, Want to come in?" that wasn't a great question.

ad1ostoreador: The location might have been starkly different from his own long-ago hive, but the creaking of the windmill was familiar, bone-deep, and left him awash in a curious mix of nostalgia and wrong-footedness, mixed as it was with the alien smell of the sea.  The scent was somehow very different from the ocean he lived beside, at present... some difference in the blend of minerals, or in the things living and growing in it, and it took Tavros a moment to remember how to answer, with his communing-sense flickering out automatically to touch and catalog beasts he hadn't encountered in sweeps on end.

"Um...." A slow blink, and then an awkward little grin, as he faced the other troll.  "Yeah, sorry... I just... forgot what Alternia felt like.... It's been a... long time."  He lifted the basket a little, and moved nearer, but none too quickly.  Better to give his alternate room to steer clear of the doorway, first.  It was strange, too, how much smaller his wigglerhood hive felt than it once had, to him. He'd visited occasional memories of it, back in the dreambubbles, but none since he'd grown to his present size, and this was real, with a sense of weight and solidity around his horns that the bubbles had never really managed to achieve.

fiduspawn-master: Possibly the biggest visual difference was the quality of light. The pink moon above was not overshadowed by a green neighbor, having only its moonlet for company. It cast the world in softer, warmer hues. 

There was an impressive variety of local beasts in the area, including at least a dozen fairy bulls and an assortment of unfamiliar, synthetic beasts, fiduspawn or fakespawn presumably.

"Oh, You're fine! Take your time!" Tavros reassured him, deftly rolling back and to the side as he pulled the door open more for him. The doorframe was accommodatingly wide and a couple of the antlered hopbeasts slipped inside before the new guest had reached the door. 

Inside was one large open room, with a nutrition area to one side and many windows and low tables against the opposite wall. Half of them had the curtains drawn already, and there were wide paths around everything, and not a lot of chairs. 

"Uhm, The pot's in the kitchen, and, I can go grab the thing I made for Gamzee, If you, Uhh, Give me a second,,," Tav said from behind him, shutting the door carefully, mindful of critters slipping in or out.

There were two fairy bulls perching around the nutrition area, though one was weird and shiny and definitely a robot. Both of them jingled in alarm at the stranger and darted towards their ward to hover protectively around him. "Oh, Uhm, Sorry, They're still not used to other trolls being here, And, That being okay..." Tav apologized as he reached out to bring the flesh and blood lusus out of the air and into his lap, petting it soothingly.

ad1ostoreador: Honestly, he hadn't even registered the green moon's absence, perhaps assuming it was still beyond the horizon.  Tavros moved forward, stepping on through the door, and froze as his gaze landed on the living fairy bull, breath hitching as if he'd just been surprise-punched in the gut.

Right.  Of course Tink was alive, here.  Of course he was prepared for that.  (He wasn't.)

"....Yeah, of course they, uh... wouldn't..." Tavros murmured, a little weakly, and tore his eyes off the lusus who didn't recognize him, looking down at the basket he held.  "...Where should I, um... put this?" He struggled for a casual tone, swallowing.

fiduspawn-master: Tav's fingers brushed his own brow as he sent brief reassurance to the small lusi, both calming down immediately. "Oh, you can leave it in the kitchen, I'll be right back!" He pivoted and rolled off towards the back of the room and down a hallway, disappearing for a minute and leaving the other Tavros alone in the space. A hopbeast sniffed his foot curiously as some other critters moved about the room, including one's he'd made himself. There was a tank on one of the low tables where the colorful newest project was swimming around contentedly. 

Tavros would return a couple of minutes later, flanked by the two fairybulls and holding a small parcel wrapped in a scrap of blue gingham fabric. "Uhm, Here it is!"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros gave a small nod, not looking up, and took a deep breath or two as his counterpart rolled down the hall.  The hive layout was... partially the same, and partially not.  Definitely less cluttered than his own, at six sweeps, and it looked more... purposeful, somehow.  Widened, maybe, with more convenient paths to wheel through.

He moved into the nutrition-block area, and set the little basket on a counter, within easy reach of the edge.  The borrowed pot, he saw, and held awkwardly for a moment before remembering his sylladex--it wouldn't work, back home, but here, it made a decent place to stash things out of his graspers.  Then, the curious hopbeast got a gentle head-scritching, between the antlers.

When his alternate returned, he turned around and straightened up to accept the offered parcel, still not quite daring to look at either the fairy bull or the robotic version.  "Thanks... I'll, um, pass it on to him, and let him know..."

fiduspawn-master: There were a few low ramps in the nutrition area, in front of the counters and prongtrap and the crisprange so that they were reachable. Everything was otherwise uncomfortably low for an upright troll as tables had been modified for the hivedweller's convenience.

Tav held the parcel up to his guest, rolling back a bit once he'd taken it so he wouldn't have to crane his neck to look up at him. The normal fairy bull had alighted on the counter near the familiar stranger's elbow and was leaning over to carefully sniff him, its breath tickling his skin. 

"Yes, Okay, Uhm, Tell him I hope he gets better soon I guess..." He smoothed his hands anxiously over the thick blanket wrapped around his legs. "Uhhhh... Is this, Weird for you too?"

ad1ostoreador: "He's... Gamzee's good.  It's just... he's got a thing, right now, where he's... not wanting to go off-planet."  A thing that Tavros wasn't entirely ready to think too hard about, just yet, for assorted reasons. "I'll tell him, though..."

His fingers twitched and curled a little more by his side in an almost-flinch, where the fairy bull was sniffing his arm, and he looked over at a tinted window instead, nodding a couple of times, rapidly.  "...Yeah.  It's... pretty weird.  I can't, uh... actually remember the last time I met another... living version of us, face to face."  A weak smile.

"It's good, though... I'm glad."  It was a rare enough occasion that he thought it was pretty special.  Someone else who'd managed to survive the worst Alternia could throw at them, instead of ending up just another blank-eyed ghost of a dead kid no one really bothered to consider.  Tavros shifted his stance slightly, folded wings rustling under the poncho and skimming the floor behind his feet at their tips as he weighed the option of sitting down on a ramp against the logistics of trying to arrange his wings somewhere without knocking over or breaking anything important behind him.  "How are you, uh... doing, though? With... alts, and timelines, and everything..."

fiduspawn-master: Tav's brow pinched a bit with worry. "Uhm, Yeah, I think he mentioned some stuff to me... Yeah..." He didn't elaborate, it wasn't his place. He reached up awkwardly to rub the back of his neck as his alternate self agreed about the weirdness, blanching a bit when he mentioned 'living versions' "Oh... Oh man... You've seen-?" That sounded terrible, seeing his own corpse... "Uhm, Yeah I guess." He tried to return the smile, giving Tink a glance as they flew up to hover around the other Tavros' head, jingling softly.

His ears twitched as he herd the rustling of wings and noticed his guest fidgeting "Oh! Uhm, Do you want to sit down? I have a loungeplank!" He said, quickly backing up and spinning around to the other side of the big, open block. There was indeed a mostly unused loungeplank shoved back against the wall across from a row of windows, a skylight letting in the moonlight from above through a heavy tint. There was a screen on the third wall and another low table with a half dozen stacks of fiduspawn cards he'd been organizing, along with his old, beat up husktop. He quickly cleared a stack of host plushes off of the couch, dumping them off to one side for now and turning back towards his guest. "Oh, uhm, well... Its- Uhhhh." He broke eyecontact, hands coming together to twist the ring around one of his thumbs. "its... different... from normal..."

ad1ostoreador: "...Ghosts, and stuff, mostly. A little different from, uh... the type Aradia used to call up, though... in a place where they all sort of, um.... hung around and didn't remember they were dead, usually."  Or that he'd visited before.  Or much of anything, outside of whatever set of memories or pan misfirings they'd gotten hung up on going through the motions of repeating, over and over and over.

The offer of a loungeplank made him shrug slightly, rubbing at the back of his neck one-handed.  "Is it okay if I, uhh... pull it away from the wall a bit? I'll put it back, after..."  The ring on Tavros's thumb caught his eye, unfamiliar as the accessory was to him, but he didn't pry.  "...Yeah... it's definitely different, for sure."  It was still hard to look at Tink, and he couldn't bear communing with the lusus, at all.  He'd have thought four sweeps would dull the edges there, some.

fiduspawn-master: "Oh, Right, Wow..." He'd always thought ghosts were pretty spooky, and he'd only seen Aradia conjure them up once. He didn't really want to think about himself being... like that.

"Yeah! Of course! Whatever you need!" He replied quickly "Here!" 

He rolled over to one side of the loungeplank, grabbing the corner and bracing his other hand against the wall, pushing it forward a few feet pretty easily, if unevenly. 

"Uhm, Yeah, It's been... A lot... I think maybe I'm not dealing with it that great..." he mumbled, looking into the dark space behind the loungeplank as a trio of sleepy eyes blinked back at him. He rolled backwards to let the soothcoon waddle out from its nap spot.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros moved to heft the other end of the loungeplank, scooting it easily forward to leave clearance for his wings, and pausing to chirp a quiet greeting-noise at the soothcoon, with a touch of apology for disturbing it.

"I... think, probably, it would be hard for anyone to, uh... deal with it wonderfully, all things considered.  Even for those of us who played the game, because it was dumb and awful...  ....So... it's okay to be kind of... rattled, about it all, yeah?"  He trailed off, then carefully took a crooked seat on the loungeplank, wings draped over the back and down to the floor behind it at an angle.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros turned to situate himself on the other side of the table, his hands smoothing distractedly over the blanket wrapped around his legs again as he looked around the floor. "I'm not really sure if 'rattled' is the word that I would use, Or that even all of the crazy other timeline versions of people I knew are, Uhh, the thing that I'm not handling well..." he admitted, his fangs digging at his lower lip a little. "I mean, I think that I can just kind of accept that that's a thing, since, I've known for a sweep by now..."

The robotic fairy bull was still perched on the back of his chair while the other had landed on the back of the couch, directing a tiny moo in their guest's directions, the naturally affectionate creature demanding attention.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros worried at his own lip a little, with a fang, sneaking a glance toward the living fairy bull and twisting his own fingers together in his lap, slowly, until his knuckles paled.  "...No?  What part is, uh... messing with you, then?"

fiduspawn-master: The small lusus fluttered its eyelashes at him and mooed again, fluttering its wings with a little jingle as well, practically begging for a pet. 

"Uhhh.... It's, Probably not important... And, Also kind of hard to articulate. And, Maybe kind of terrible?" He winced as he bit his lip a little too hard, starting to fidget with the ring around his thumb again. "Sorry, You probably don't want to talk about this..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros took another deep, slightly shaky breath, and fought down any pathetic grub-noises before they could slip out, very carefully reaching up and giving the fairy bull a gentle pet.

"...I mean... it's not fair to you, if parts of all this are messing you up.  So... maybe if you can, uh, articulate at least some of it, you might feel kind of better?"

fiduspawn-master: They were ecstatic! Nuzzling his palm and licking his fingers as they jingled happily.

Tavros nearly mimicked his alter's shaky breath, his claws tapping against his ring "Uhm... I guess there are just, Some feelings I've been having, That, I'm not used to having..." he mumbles, shrugging slightly.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros stared into an indistinct spot somewhere near the middle of the floor while the lusus licked his fingers and nuzzled on his hand, his eyes gone a little bit glassy, but managed to keep his voice largely level, if somewhat quieter than usual.  "...I don't want to, um... assume things. About you, or feelings that happen to you... even if I kind of, uhh... suspect that maybe we had some of the same... problems, relating to that general, uh, area of experiences..."

fiduspawn-master: Well, maybe, if anyone could understand, without thinking he was just really terrible, it would be another version of himself, maybe... He finally looked up at him to respond before noticing his expression and stopping. "Uhm, Are you, Okay?" He asked, concerned. 

The lusus still looked pleased as punch to be pet, its little tail whipping back and forth.

ad1ostoreador: He bit his lip again, and looked up, almost guiltily jerking his hand back to his lap, with a quick rub of the other hand over his eyes.  "....yeah. I'm okay.  It's fine..."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros frowned, tilting his head slightly as the lusus mooed in disappointment "Uhm, Okay, But, No, I don't think that you are?"

ad1ostoreador: A few beats of silence passed, and then Tavros managed--"...I wasn't... expecting to see..." He jerked his head slightly in the direction of the lusus.  "...that's all.  It's dumb, and I should have... expected.  I'm okay."

fiduspawn-master: His brows furrowed in confusion. "To see a fairy bull? Uhm... Oh, Right, I guess there must not be any in the place that you live... Uhm, I can ask him to go in the other room, If you want" He offered.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros hesitated, then shook his head, though a tiny part of him wanted to nod, instead, and another part wanted to maybe just curl up in a hole.  "No.... no. It's okay... really.  It's just been a long time.  You were, uh.... you were saying?"

fiduspawn-master: He wasn't totally convinced, sending a brief thought to the fairy bull to not bother their guest. Reluctantly they fluttered down to the other side of the couch and sat down, pouting a little bit. "Oh, Uhm, I don't know. We don't really have to talk about it..." His alter looked upset and distracted, and he didn't want to make him more uncomfortable or bother him about his problems...

ad1ostoreador: Frankly, a distraction from the shitty ache behind his eyes and missing his own lusus would be welcome.  He rubbed at the ring in his own nose, briefly, and let out a tiny breath.  "....like I said, I don't want to, um... assume things, which could be wrong, if you don't... want to say anything.  But... you don't have to."

fiduspawn-master: He sighed faintly and fiddled with his ring again, looking off towards the windows. "Well... I guess I have just gotten pretty used to the only feeling I felt being loneliness? Which, Was really pretty terrible, But also, Familiar...?" He trailed off a moment, one hand squeezing into a fist. "Now, There are people to talk to and, Uhhh, Watch, Live their lives, Doing important things and, Uhm, Having friends that care about them a lot, And, It has just been making me have a lot of feelings about everything, And, It feels like it was easier, To just be lonely, But, Also, Somehow, I feel even more lonely than I did before?" He swallowed, looking down as his hair flopped forward into his face, his hands kneading together hard. "Uhm, Sorry, That probably sounds pretty dumb, And, Terrible..."

ad1ostoreador: "No, I... I get it."  Tavros cleared his throat a little, fingers back to being laced together in his lap.  "...Being in the Furthest Ring alone was... really lonely.  And in some ways it... felt even worse to go online, and see everyone just... busy and happy with all their own, uh, lives, and stuff, and people they actually cared about..."

fiduspawn-master: He finally looked up at his alter again as he spoke, nodding a little with a small sniff "Yeah, That is, Pretty much it exactly..." he huffed, reaching up to push his hair back into place again. "I, Don't really know what to do about it, Or, If it would be better to just... Not go online..."

ad1ostoreador: "...It's not easy.  And sometimes the bad times like that just keep happening over again, when it's extra, uh, hard, and lonely, and everything is awful. But... if you stay away from everyone, and you don't meet anyone, or talk to anyone.... you won't get any of the good times, then, when it doesn't feel that way, and when you can believe that people would notice, if you... weren't online."  It was possibly a cycle Tavros had been through multiple times, himself.

fiduspawn-master: His hand stayed in his hair, twisting it between his fingers some as he tried to get the lump out of his throat, making it hard to breathe. "You, Uhm, Really think that it could be like that for me?" he huffed, looking down a the blanket over his legs. "For me?"

ad1ostoreador: "I think, definitely so. And... I think that trolls aren't... meant to be all alone.  We... need other people, more than that... even with all the dumb Imperial stuff, trying to draw lines between everybody and keep them apart..."  Tavros echoed the faint 'huff', with a small shake of his head.

fiduspawn-master: Tav fidgeted a bit at the empire talk, shifting a little in his chair and shrugging "I mean, I wouldn't be alone if I wasnt-... I could- could have, Made other friends, And, Uhm,  known people... I could have tried..." Maybe he shouldn't be defending the empire here, but it was kind of his fault for being a cripple. "I wouldn't have gotten stuck in being lonely, I don't think..."

ad1ostoreador: "...It's not 'could have'... it's 'can'," Tavros pointed out, glancing up from his own fingers then.  "Only, without the part where V--she, uh, ruins everything, always.  There's... lots of options, you know? Even if you haven't always... had some of those options, before now."

fiduspawn-master: His fingers fisted tight in the blanket in his lap at the mere mention. "Yeah." he huffed with a scowl before sighing again "Yeah... I guess, It will only be too late if I stop trying... It's... Hard though. It still kind of feels like I'm too late, And, Not ready, At the same time..."

ad1ostoreador: "....Used to feel sometimes like everyone was... busy finding all their serendipity back before I even, uh, knew the site everyone uses now was a thing that existed.  Like I was... just too late to ever be anything important, to anyone, even as a friend..."  Tavros said, a little too off-handedly.  Sometimes it still felt that way, except for Gamzee, but he usually tried to remind himself that that was probably the horrible gray creep of depression talking, and not actual reality. "..But don't stop trying, is the point, mostly. Like you, uh, said, it's not too late unless you quit trying..."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros nodded slowly as he listened. Yes, that was pretty much exactly how he felt about it. Maybe though, if another version of himself could overcome it, (albeit, a way cooler more interesting and less broken version of himself, but, that wasn't a helpful thought to have) Then maybe he could too. 

"Yeah, Okay... Thank you. Uhm, I'm glad that you understand, Even though, I'm also sorry that you understand..."

ad1ostoreador: "It's... one of the good things, I think, about there being... so many versions of so many worlds, out there... the odds are probably, um, pretty good that somebody understands just about anything... yeah?" He tried for a small and crooked smile, shrugging.

fiduspawn-master: Tav mirrored the lopsided smile with another small nod. "Heh, Yeahhh... Uhm... Sorry, Things got kind of heavy. I hope this visit hasn't just been really terrible." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck again awkwardly. "Maybe, If you ever wanted to come by again, We could do something actually fun?"

ad1ostoreador: "It's fine, really... and, that would be a thing that we could, uh, do... or... you could come visit our planet, sometime, if you wanted?"  Beach sand might not agree with wheels, so well, but the 'social' hive had smooth, solid floors and lots of open space to maneuver.  "I think you would like to meet the, uhh, oggos a lot..."

Tavros couldn't help one more furtive glance over at the small lusus at the other end of the couch, and swallowed.

fiduspawn-master: "Oh, Yes! Uhm, Gamzee mentioned there were new kinds of beasts there, And it sounded really beautiful also!" He brightened up a bit at the idea, his hands relaxing in his lap. "That would be fun."

The fairy bull had curled up once it became clear it was going to be ignored by the new troll, and was dozing off, shimmery wings folded down against its back. "Uhm... Do you want to take some with you?" Tav asked, seeing him eyeing the lusus again. "There's, Uhh, A good sized herd around right now, You could probably take enough to start breeding them, If you wanted." He was still working under the assumption that he simply missed the general presence of fairy bulls.

ad1ostoreador: For a moment, he froze, then slowly shook his head.  "...I think... it would just, um, make me think more about missing mine, probably... a lot."  He shut his eyes briefly.  "...How did you, uh, get a robot fairy bull, anyway?"

fiduspawn-master: He bit his lip and nodded a little "Yeah, Okay, Sorry. It is definitely always really hard when they die, I can't imagine there not being more to come and replace them..." he mumbled before glancing back at the shiny white fairybot. "Oh, Uhm, That was, Uhh, Bull. He kind of changed the one that was taking care of me, So that they could always be monitoring me, and, the thing that he did to make my legs not be hurting pretty much all of the time, Since, I didn't want any of the robot stuff to be in my sponge..." He patted the fairybot a little more tentatively "I guess that it's okay, Since, They still are happy.”

ad1ostoreador: Tavros was very quiet, for a few more beats, and then quirked a quarter-smile that mostly looked like it hurt. "There was just... the one, for me. When I was younger.  He... always acted like he missed other fairy bulls, but... there weren't any more wild ones nearby, not for leagues and leagues... and nobody rust was allowed more than one lusus.  Even if they were... really small."

The thought of anyone just being changed that way, even a lusus, still made something roll over unsettled in his stomach, but he let out a breath.  "...I'm glad he, uh... helped your legs not hurt."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros frowned as his alter spoke, his ears drooping. "Oh man... I'm so sorry, That must have been, Really hard..." he mumbled, his eyes wandering to Tinkerbull as he twisted the ring around his finger. "Uhm, Yeah, I'm glad too, And that, That is all that he did, Also..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros couldn't help a small, wry, but real-er smile, at that. "Yeah... He really, um, likes the... robot stuff. But... he won't do it, if you remind him not to..." He shrugged slightly. "And if you don't want to, uh... be like that."

fiduspawn-master: "Yeahhhh... He was really sorry for, Uhm, Freaking me out afterwards. He just, Really wanted to help... I think, That I just don't want to not be me..." His jaw tightened slightly as his hands smoothed back over his blanket "Even if, Me, Isn't as cool or smart, Or, Really confident, As I guess he could have made me..." He trailed off, eyes downcast.

ad1ostoreador: "I think... for him, he didn't feel like himself until he went all... robot. So... he has a hard time, maybe, understanding people who don't feel like themselves because they've been made a robot...." Tavros added, quietly. 

"...He does try really hard to help, though. And... I think you are already pretty cool, and smart, what with being all, uh... an illegal rebel, hiding on-planet, and... building fakespawn, and stuff that I don't have any idea how to do, but you do it really well. And... the fact that you are still alive, when... most everything on Alternia is designed to, um, try to prevent that. And you're away from her..." Which was a big thing, all by itself.

fiduspawn-master: He huffed, reaching up to fiddle with his hair again. "Uhmmm, I don't know, About all of that stuff... But, I don't really need to be anything special..." He gave a half hearted shrug "I think that I will just probably always be the same, Until..." He trailed off again before shaking his head, finally looking up at his alt with a strained laugh "Hah, Wow, This is all pretty depressing to talk about! Uhm, We could definitely probably be talking about things that are not that!"

ad1ostoreador: From where Tavros was standing, it already looked like a few major changes, from the pupa they'd once been.  He didn't argue the point further, though, just giving his head a little shake.  "Sorry... you should definitely, um, come visit sometime soon, though."  He had the beginnings of the inklings of an idea, even.

fiduspawn-master: "It's okay! And, Yes! I think I would like that a lot, If you guys felt like it." he said as he kept up the smile a little more naturally. "I can't wait to try the chocolate you brought also, I can't remember the last time I got to have any!"

ad1ostoreador: "It's like... a tree-fungus, where we are. It grows on their stemrinds, on certain types... and it tastes just like chocolate. Not the, uh, over-sweet candy type hivestem stuff, but the real stuff."  Tavros might have been rambling a little, for the sake of a topic that didn't sting. "I use it in, um... hot cocoa, and spicy huskbean stew, and some other things..."

fiduspawn-master: "Oh wow! That sounds like an amazing thing to have grow where you live! Hah, Man, I don't have a lot of stuff to make spicy food with, I wish I was better at cooking fancy stuff..." he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

ad1ostoreador: "I don't know that anything I make is, uh, fancy... it's all just... country, um, warmblood type food, but..."  It was still a conscious effort, for Tavros, to remember to say 'warm' and not 'low', sometimes.  To avoid sliding back into old, Alternian habits, like they might inadvertently stain their new planet with the leavings of the old.  But he was trying. Gamzee was more of a stickler about it than he, even.  "We're not that far into the cool season, I think... but for now, there's lots of food to find, still."

fiduspawn-master: "I'm glad to hear that! I have been, Uhhh, Saving a lot of food. I dug out a whole nutrition cellar last sweep, After the drones managed to damage my windmill, And, I lost power for, Like, A perigee, And all my food went bad..." He shook his head again and shrugged "But, I have learned a lot about preserving food now, And, I have plenty of it stored up for the dim season!" he continued cheerily. "It was definetly worth all the work, Heh."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros nodded, brow furrowing at the tale.  "Oh... no.  Do you, um, have enough power back now, I hope...?"  He looked up.

"We, uh... had to kind of learn some things suddenly.  About preserving fish.  These... whartlebeasts came through our, uh, bay, and I think they were just migrating, but.... they feed by crowding everything up into the shallows, and just taking big gulps as they go by.  So... we had fish flopping up on the beach, fish all over the place... and the oggos were, uh... having a very... messy blast with it all. "  He snorted a half-laugh.  "...We started smoking excess fish, then. Or it would have just... stunk everything up terribly."

fiduspawn-master: He nodded "Oh, Yeah! The power cells are all full up after the storm last light! I, Uhh, Wish I could get more to store more power, For emergencies, But, That would be kind of hard." he admitted.

He smiled at the mental image of all the beasts, laughing with his alt and grinning "Hah, That sounds so fun! And a great way to get a lot of food, Heh,"

ad1ostoreador: "Definitely... I mean, raking the sand clean after it all wasn't fun, but... feeling the whartles was... sort of like with skywhales, only all heavy and rough-shelled, and staying in the water, and just, um, thinking deep cool thoughts, as they paddle along..."    He raked a hand through his shaggy hair.

"I'm sure there's people online who, um, would trade more power cells, for something you can make, or else find, around here..."

fiduspawn-master: His eyes sparkled as he smiled wide, imagining the unfamiliar beasts. "Wow!!! I hope I get to see them, If I come over, Heheh,"

He leaned back in his chair, looking to his husktop on the table "Uhm, Yeah, It's been kind of hard to trade for things that are that big and heavy, And, Also expensive...."

ad1ostoreador: "I don't... know much about that kind of thing, really, but there are definitely people who can find that stuff."  He shifted his wings a little, with a crickety, papery rustle.  "You, uh... said that drones broke the windmill, before? How did... that happen?  I mean... without them doing worse...."

fiduspawn-master: "Uhhh, I think that it was just really unlucky? Since, They came in the day, And, No beasts spotted them coming until it was too late. They managed to tear off two of the blades before I could organize enough beasts to fend them off. Usually, They will leave a hive alone if it seems to have become a, Uhm, Lusus den..." That had been a very difficult few perigees, with no power and not much food, having to work all night every night to rebuild the windmill, and then to dig a nutrition cellar after that. The beasts had helped of course, but there was only so much that they could do...

ad1ostoreador: Tavros grimaced slightly.  He might have been off Alternia for sweeps, but the prospect of fending off determined drones with stray lusii and wild beasts was none too appealing. "...It's good that you were able to, uh... drive them away, before they did more than that... and that you were able to fix it, and do all that work, after..."

fiduspawn-master: He nodded solemnly before smiling with a small chuckle "There have not been a lot of fly bys for the last couple of perigees though, I think I have managed to mostly, Uhhh, scare them off from this area!" His smile spread into a big, slightly smug grin. "I managed to find a beast that they will always steer clear of!!"

ad1ostoreador: "Good... good.  That's... definitely better than the alternative."  Tavros's ears flicked, cupping curiously towards him.  "Oh yeah? What kind of, um, beasts will they stay away from, around here?"

fiduspawn-master: He leaned forward a bit in his chair, coppery eyes sparkling with excitement "Do you want to see?? You have to promise not to look, Though, Or to feel for them either! It will be a really cool surprise that way!!"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros nodded slowly, a mixture of anticipation and puzzlement on his features.  It was hard to rein in his automatic level of communing and then deliberately try not to think about it, though.  Harder yet to not think about the thing he was supposed to not think about.  "Uhhh..." He tried shutting his eyes, and just focusing on the sleepy soothcoon and the flittering, too-familiar feel of the fairy bull in the vicinity, instead.  "...Okay..."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros giggled, giddy as he turned to the wall of windows, putting a hand to his temple briefly to focus and find the beast he was seeking. They were pretty far away, but that didn't matter, it would only take a couple of minutes for them to get here. In the meantime he tugged at the blackout curtains to reveal the open, rolling fields outside, the wind still making the grass ripple like waves. He could feel them approaching, and he turned to go back to his alt, grabbing one of his hands to guide him over to the window "Here! They're about to land!"

A shadow blocked out the rosy moonlight for a moment before with a heavy thud, a gleaming, white dragon, nearly the size of a galleon, landed in the grass just outside. "Tadh! Heh, This, Is my new friend, Who has scared away most of the drones!" Tavros announced, throwing out an arm towards the huge lusus. “Uhh, Here." Reaching out, he pulled open one of the windows which was actually a door. "You want to meet them?"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros kept his eyes shut, even when he was tugged closer to the window, until his counterpart called out.  Then.... Oh.  That was... that was an actual real live adult dragon, of a sort he'd never encountered on his own Alternia, Terezi's sleeping unhatched lusus notwithstanding.  For a moment, he could almost taste an echo of the smell of burning tissue, but it wasn't real and it wasn't here and nobody was creep-crawling through his pan.  And that was a dragon.

"....Yes... uhh, yes, can I?"  The question was half to his alternate, and half to the massive creature itself.  It was only proper to be polite, of course, when meeting someone new.

fiduspawn-master: On closer inspection, although large, the dragon was still technically an adolescent, its eyes still sealed shut though a dull red glow was visible through the lids. By way of answer Tavros simply wheeled out the door ahead of his alt and moved to the side.

The dragon turned its massive head towards both of them, nostrils flaring as it sniffed them out. It- she, was friendly, if a little aloof, showing a little more interest in the winged stranger than the one who'd called her.

ad1ostoreador: "...She's beautiful," he breathed, stepping out the door and shrugging his poncho off with a quick slip of a fastening that let him spread his wings and give them a flick or two to stretch.  He approached the dragon, fearlessly, to be sniffed to any degree she liked, and reached up to scritch gently along a seam of fine scales on her jaw.

"I bet even the drones definitely, uh, don't really want to pick a fight with her, do they...?"  Tavros paused, gazing up at the dragon's bulk.  "...Was she Terezi's? Or...?"

fiduspawn-master: "Heh, Yeah," he agreed with a smile that faltered when he looked to his alt and saw him shrugging off the poncho he'd been wearing, seeing the wings in person for the first time. Oh... That was a little worse than a mirthhive mirror. He wanted to look away but he also didn't.

The dragon lowered her head, longer than a troll was tall, giving Tavros a more thorough sniffing. An uncomfortable heat radiated from her closed eyes and she generally kept them angled away from both trolls so they wouldn't be seared by the proximity. Her scales were hot too, at least on her head, almost too hot to touch.

Tav was still staring at his alt, only snapping out of it when addressed "Oh! Uhmm, I kind of think that she probably was, Since, They are so rare, It is pretty likely, But, She is kind of, uhhh, Cagey, About information regarding herself..."

ad1ostoreador: He kept the touch light and careful, skimming shy of burning his fingers on the heat of the dragon's scales.  "I don't know how, uh, fast they grow, after hatching..."  It was hard to tell, with some of the megafauna.  Some would shoot up in a couple of seasons... others just inched larger incrementally from sweep to sweep.  "She feels... strong. How long ago did you meet her...?"

fiduspawn-master: "I'm not sure either, But, I don't think she's too old..." He stayed back a bit, letting his alter interact with the magnificent beast on his own. "Uhm, Maybe six perigees ago? She was just, Flying along the coast, And I brought her in to get to know her a little bit... She has been coming to help me with the drones every now and then since then..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros looked from the dragon to his alternate, and back, not speaking for a moment.  Like any psi-active troll, if his powers were pushed hard enough, even his eyes would visibly glow... but for a mere touch of mental communication exchanged with the beast, in the form of a polite query, the flicker was so muted and brief that it would pass unseen.  Had she ever flown with a passenger? And more importantly, would the gracious lady be willing to?

fiduspawn-master: She returned an affirmative, followed by the mental equivalent of a nonchalant shrug. Not opposed. 

Tavros noticed his alt looking between him and the dragon, simply raising an eyebrow. "Uhhh..."

ad1ostoreador: He grinned then, fangy and bright.  "...Have you, uhh, gone flying with her, before?"

fiduspawn-master: His eyes widened "Oh, Uhm, Like, Riding her? No I, Definitely haven't done that..." He looked to the dragon's imposing bulk and, yeah, that would have been a bit of a climb to get up there, and those claws were maybe a bit too sharp to safely hold a troll...

ad1ostoreador: "Then... that is a thing we are going to do, because I can definitely help you get up there, and also back down again," Tavros announced, beaming... then hesitated.  "If... if you want to, I mean...?"

fiduspawn-master: His mouth hung open a moment as he looked at his alter, and then the dragon. "O-oh, I-... Yeah, I, I think that I would like that..." he said, a little quietly, giving him a nervous smile.

ad1ostoreador: Good.  It just wasn't right, somehow, for any of their bloodline to be entirely ground-bound.  He moved forward, coaxing and coordinating with the dragon to lower her stance, to position one foreleg just so, outstretched for potential support, and reached out to offer his alternate both hands, for a solid forearm-to-forearm-locked grip.  His wings spread wider and tilted against a gust of the sea wind, and a strange, faint, smaller set of rust-orange phantom wings shimmered into being with them, almost like a flapstraction's holographic overlay. There was a hint of blue shimmer at the edges of his clothes, too, but his actual, real clothing stayed firmly where it belonged.  (He really was emphatically not a fan of his godtier's default cut, or of having that much of his legs exposed, even sweeps and a pupation after the fact.)

"What I can do, is lift you up over her shoulder, and, uh, set you down between her neck-ridges.  Slowly.  Okay...?"

fiduspawn-master: He watched for a second as his guest conversed with the dragon before jolting slightly in realization, looking down at his lap. Oh, this probably wouldn't work, how could he keep them wrapped up? He didn't want him to have to see-- not after Bull's reaction had been so bad. Dang it, why did he have to prefer the comfort and convenience of shorts? He was so preoccupied he totally missed his alter's subtle transformation, rolling his chair backwards towards the door again. "Uhhhhh, Do you think, You could maybe, Uhm, Wait a couple of minutes? Uhh, Sorry, I just, Have to do something really quick!"

ad1ostoreador: "Okay, uh... no problem. No rush."  Tavros lowered his hands again, no longer braced to lift off, and instead rubbed the back of his own neck, then raked his hair out of his eyes, where the wind had blown it around wildly.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros retreated quickly inside, emerging after a few minutes, blanket discarded and long pants donned. There was still a hint of, visible mishapenness to them, but the pants were baggy enough to hide most of it.

He rolled back over to his alter, smiling awkwardly "Uhh, Hey, Sorry about that, I'm ready now I guess?"

ad1ostoreador: Well, it wasn't as though Tavros would judge his alternate for the shape his legs were in... he just had lingering sensitivities about his own.  This time, he sprang up off the ground to get his wings beating fast enough to hover, as he would have to back on his own planet, then furrowed his brow, dipped closer to Tavros's chair, and offered his hands again, as the weird holo-overlay wing effect remained perfectly, ornamentally still, and his flight steadied from a hover into something more like a gravity-free float. Godtier nonsense and physics were not always on the best of terms, and occasionally resulted in the latter presumably throwing its metaphorical hands up and wandering away for a stiff drink.

"Here..."

fiduspawn-master: No longer distracted, he watched his other self take to the air, making it look so, natural and effortless, then, maybe a little unnatural, but still effortless. 

Swallowing, he nodded and reached up to firmly grasp his arm, letting himself be pulled out of his chair. He still winced, even though he knew it wouldn't hurt, it was just a hard habit to break at this point.

ad1ostoreador: It was slow. Easier than it should have been, even as the muscles in Tavros's arms went taut and he lifted them, as smoothly as a balloon drifting up from the chair and angling upwards along the dragon's shoulder, dangling feet not skimming her scales, but barely above them.  He stopped, when his alternate was suspended neatly over the notch in her neckridges, then carefully, carefully hovered him lower, prepared to hold his weight up one-armed if need be until the other troll had gotten his legs arranged to his satisfaction.

"...All set?"  Given the affirmative, he would lower him the last few inches, to settle his weight there safely.

fiduspawn-master: He clung to his alter's arm, pulling his legs up a bit to keep them from just dangling as he was airlifted over to the dragon's back and gently lowered down. The scales were still hot but not burning like they were on her head, and he settled himself, reaching forward to hold on tightly to one of the neck ridges and looking up at Tavros with a nod. "Yeah, I'm good I think..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros grinned, broad and pleased, and went from that odd drifting float to wing-buzzing flight again, lifting higher against a gust of wind and hovering near the dragon's head as he called her to take to the sky.  "Hang on, okay?"

fiduspawn-master: He didn't need to be told twice, bracing himself and connecting to the dragon in order to anticipate her movements and better keep balance. She sensed his readiness, standing and turning away from his hive to face the cliffs, starting at a trot to gain speed. The trot turned to a gallop as her wings spread, tilting to catch the wind as they launched themselves off of the high cliff and took to the air.

Tavros was hanging on for dear life, the ride quite bumpy while she was still on the ground. His stomach flipped as she jumped, his breath catching in his throat as the ride turned into a soaring sensation. He finally managed to gasp before letting out a whoop, laughing and hanging on as she tilted upwards to start gaining altitude with mighty wingbeats.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros angled for an updraft and soared higher, circling above the massive sweep of her wings to keep an eye on his alternate and a light thread of communing-sense on the dragon... nothing harsh enough to vie with her rider's.  "Isn't it great?" he called, hands cupped to his mouth to carry over the wind. There was nothing quite like flying, and doing it on the back of an actual dragon probably counted for like... nine thousand extra coolness points, all by itself.

fiduspawn-master: Tav couldn't stop smiling as he kept low to the dragon's back, hanging on as she climbed higher. He could barely hear over the rushing wind, but he glanced over at the flash of bronze, fluttering wings, laughing and letting go with one hand to pump his fist in the air in clear confirmation.

ad1ostoreador: A whoop that he might have learned from Gamzee, and Tavros made a dizzying swoop to plunge past the flying beast's outstretched neck, beneath her, then fight his way up again, grinning wildly and thoroughly windblown.  It wasn't often that he got to play midair with anyone but flapbeasts, especially someone who really appreciated the experience, and he was going to enjoy every minute of this while it lasted.

fiduspawn-master: He quickly grabbed on again, watching Tavros dive and swoop as the dragon evened out her angle of ascent. She let the currents catch in her wings like sails and slowly banked back towards the land again. Now she wasn't flying upwards, Tavros could finally sit up and look around, seeing the sea spread out and glittering below in the moonlight, and his hive, tiny in the distance, standing alone. He spread out his arms to feel the wind rushing past his whole body and took a deep breath of rarefied air. It tasted and smelled better than anything he could ever remember, and he let his eyes close briefly so he could just savor the moment.

ad1ostoreador: It was the kind of moment Tavros was content to let play out, for as long as his counterpart needed it. He kept pace with the dragon's flight, alternating diving glides with fluttering spirals higher, and maybe a brief game of something like tag, even, with subtle gusts of wind rising up to carry him along when he wasn't thinking too hard about it.

fiduspawn-master: The dragon flew in slow arcs, like a gentle roller coaster, nothing too fancy or fast in consideration for her rider. Tav laughed giddily, especially on the descents, relishing the weightless feeling as he clung to her back. Eventually she was flying over his hive and he let her start a slow, circular descent so that she could land, not wanting to push his luck with the magnificent beast. She wasn't his lusus or anything, and he already appreciated her helping with the drones. also he could feel his thighs and behind getting uncomfortably hot from her scales, probably should have thrown his blanket over her back or something.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros followed the dragon downward, there, grinning as they descended, and he would finally still into that physics-gone-slightly-flipped-sideways floaty hover, once she had come to a complete landing stop. "I can, uhh... lift you back down, the same way, if that's okay...?"

fiduspawn-master: Tha dragon hunkered down onto her belly once she'd gently landed, getting low to make dismounting easier. Tav squirmed a little in his seat, looking up to his alt and nodding quickly as he extended a hand "Uhhh, Yes please. Thanks."

ad1ostoreador: Once again, Tavros got a firm hold on his forearm--or both of them, if he offered the other, and then floated him up and off the dragon's neckridge, to carefully airlift him back to his chair, giving him time to get his legs situated before he set him completely down.  "All, um, good?"

fiduspawn-master: He held on with both hands, looking down as he was taken back to his wheeled device. He settled back in easily enough, shifting in his chair as he let go of his alt. He looked up at him with a smile, giving him a thumbs up "Yeah, Thanks!" The dragon was getting up again, sniffing around casually. 

"Heh, Man, That was... Wow, Heh"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros was still grinning, looking pleased and a bit relieved all at once, that his counterpart had both enjoyed the experience and not inadvertently injured himself in the process.  He dropped back to the ground, himself, landing on his feet and folding his wings back with a bit of a sigh to avoid being pushed about by the wind.  The phantom shimmer of a second set of wings evaporated, a moment later. "Yeah... I'm glad she didn't mind," he added, looking up at the dragon with a grateful wave.

fiduspawn-master: She sniffed in his direction before starting to wander off, preparing to lift off again and go back to whatever she'd been doing before.

"Heh, Yeahhh, Me too." He agreed, watching her start to take off, smiling wistfully.

ad1ostoreador: "I guess you do have a pretty, uh... thorough anti-drone defense system..."  He, also, watched the huge beast abscond, though not with quite the same note of wistfulness.

fiduspawn-master: "Heh, Well, It's definitely, Uhhh, Better than it used to be." he hummed, finally tearing his eyes away from the quickly shrinking white dot in the sky to smile at his guest. "Uhm, Thanks for helping me, That was really great..."

ad1ostoreador: "No problem... I'm glad it was fun," Tavros said, smiling back.  He'd had the inklings of the idea, and then the dragon had presented herself as an immediate opportunity.  It was certainly a welcome distraction from the faint, nagging itch of Gl'bgolyb's presence on this planet.  "Maybe we could, uh... do that again sometime..."

fiduspawn-master: "Yeah! Heh, But maybe, Uhh, Not too soon" She wasn't exactly a tame hoofbeast or anything. There was a faint redness along the horizon that hinted at the dawn that would come in the next few hours, and Tavros turned to head back inside now the dragon was out of sight.

(there was something a little different about that itch here too, less eldritch, more predatory, no less uncomfortable, especially this close to the sea.)

ad1ostoreador: Tavros nodded, glancing out toward that tint of color in the sky.  It was amazing how fast being back on Alternia, even for a visit, could remind him that the day was something to fear, not something to greet.  He moved to follow his alternate back inside the hive, picking up his poncho to re-secure it, on the way.  "I should, um, probably head back soon, I think..." He had one more stop off-planet to make, too.  Two if he braved an excess of crowding strangers to find Gamzee a better coat, while he was at it.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros spun around to face him, looking up at him with a slanted smile "Oh, Heh, Yeahhh, probably, It is getting pretty early." he acknowledged, glancing at the row of windows before rolling back over to start closing the curtains. "Uhh, Thank you for coming though! This was, Really nice... Oh, And I hope that Gamzee likes his present!" He added, looking back over his shoulder at him.

ad1ostoreador: "I'm sure he will," Tavros assured him, double-checking to make sure he'd put the fabric-wrapped little package in his sylladex.  It was there, as was the pot he'd come to collect, and he returned that smile crookedly.  "I'll, uh, see you around, yeah?  It was really nice to meet you in person..."

fiduspawn-master: He finished with the curtains and turned to face his alt as he was leaving, smiling more warmly and raising a hand in farewell. "Yes! See you around, Uhh, Tavros, Heh, It was nice to meet you too, And, Not as weird at the end."

ad1ostoreador: It was clearly necessary to offer a fist for a proper fist-bunp, there.  "Definitely not as weird at the end," he agreed, then gave a little wave of his own, and looked down to fiddle with the device on his wrist.  A moment later... fworp, and he was gone the same way he'd arrived.

fiduspawn-master: The fistbump was easily reciprocated and he watched his guest vanish into thin air.

[clexa--warrior]

Apparently now in Fear The Walking Dead, the concept of a "bad guy" or "villain" is someone who always lets the good guys go, never harms anyone or is even particularly threatening, and wants to help people, only they're a little more willing than Morgan to use force to get what they want.

That's . . . not a great concept for a bad guy in a zombie apocalypse. I don't mind having the bad guys think they're doing the right thing, or even pretend to be good for a while before showing their true colors (like the Governor in The Walking Dead) but that's not what's going on here.

Honestly, I'm not really sure what's going on with FearTWD these days. It's so boring. Sunday night's episode focuses on Al and Morgan in the A plot and Daniel and Grace in the B plot. We'll start with Al and Morgan.

Right off the bat, things are just cringe-inducing in 'Today and Tomorrow'. The episode opens on scenes of Morgan talking to the camera. Turns out, he's watching recordings . . . of himself?

Al suggests they head on back to the convoy because they don't have much gas but he insists that they drive around and waste more precious supplies by dropping off more boxes, because it's important. Al disagrees, because logistical considerations are also important, but Morgan refuses to budge. Who cares if they run out of gas? So long as they're "helping people" all is well. Later we discover that he's avoiding going back because he's been stuck (always stuck!) and was afraid of seeing Grace.

In any case, they run into a dude in the parking lot who steals some of their gas. He's in bad shape, and it turns out that he's running away from the Virginia and the Pioneers. Some of the horsemen show up just then and the three of them hide in a van. It's funny that pretty much right at the exact same time that this new group shows up at the oil refinery, they also show up where Morgan and Al are, even though they're so far out of range with the walkie-talkies. Virginia just happens to be right over in that neck of the woods also? It's another silly coincidence.

The guy says his sister is in the place they were staying that the Pioneers took from them, so of course Morgan and Al go to find her. Al also wants to find the helicopter chick, thinking that maybe this new group is the same one she was with, despite them riding horses instead of helicopters, and cowboy hats instead of zombie-resistant hazmat suits. She's sorely disappointed later when she asks Virginia and Virginia points out that they just now gained access to gas.

Al wants to find her crush so badly, that she insists on going in to the compound alone while Morgan gets the guy to safety. Because splitting up in dangerous situations is such a great idea. What could possibly go wrong?

They end up going in together. The sister has escaped, but the Pioneers capture them both. Somehow Virginia knows that the sister got away and left a zombie behind in the room, despite Morgan being the one to find and kill that zombie. I'm a little confused about that.

Still, getting captured by bad guys in Fear is about as worrisome as encountering a zombie. Zombies never kill characters anymore, and bad guys just let the good guys go without so much as a slap on the wrist. Virginia not only lets Morgan and Al walk free, she has one of her people fix his stick for him. Virginia knows all about both of them thanks to that ridiculous PSA they made in episode 9, and she thinks it was a brilliant idea. She must be the only one, because that remains one of the most ridiculously stupid things I've seen on TV. Ever.

Most of the subplot with Daniel and Grace was pretty excruciating. Daniel's character has been reduced to a boring old grandfatherly dude without any edge. All the hard lines are gone. All the struggles he faced with his past, his mental illness, his fury, all vanished. Now he sits and pats Grace's hand and tells her everything will be alright.

I will admit, the one bright moment of this entire episode for me was when Daniel and Grace sing a little duet together. They're in a bar and they find an acoustic guitar and Grace picks it up and starts singing. Daniel chimes in. They sound pretty good, too. That's not surprising. Karen David (Grace) was one of the leads in Galavant and she has a terrific voice. Now that was a good TV show.

In any case, over in Morganland, he has a revelation. Somehow him telling Virginia that they're stuck in the past has dislodged something in his brain and he's realized that he, too, is stuck in the past. He hops on the walkie-talkie and radios Grace. Daniel is on the other end and says that a minute ago (like, when they were singing?) she seemed fine, but now she's in bad shape.

Cut to Grace who looks ill, right on death's door. Morgan wants to talk to her. He needs to come quick, though, because she thinks it could all be over quickly.

What? What on earth is going on here? I'm no medical professional, but I'm pretty sure you don't go from "just fine" to "on death's door" from radiation poisoning that you acquired weeks earlier, in that span of time. You either get enough radiation right off the bat that it kills you pretty quickly, or you get just enough that it kills you slowly over time. It doesn't just suddenly kick in three months later and then kill you in an hour.

Am I wrong? It just doesn't feel right at all. It feels like yet another lazy, stupid attempt at creating tension and teasing viewers with a cliffhanger. "Oh no, what are we going to do if Grace dies?!" As though they've given us any reason to care about any of these characters anymore. If they all died and only Skidmark made it out alive, I'd be perfectly fine with that.

Don't get me wrong. I'm still a fan of Daniel and Alicia and Dorie and a couple others, but only in an abstract sense. I like who Daniel used to be, when he was a tough-as-nails ex-military guy who never put up with any nonsense.

I like the way Alicia was growing as a character, right up until they chopped off her character growth at the knees and made her just another Morganite.

I like John Dorie in theory, and he could have been a really fascinating character if he was a diamond in the rough, a truly good man in a world where everyone else's morality was a lot more grey. But instead, Dorie is just one of many morally pure do-gooders now, robbed of his most interesting qualities, or rather those qualities have become camouflaged thanks to the quiet assassination of pretty much everyone's personality.

All these actors--Ruben Blades, Alycia Debnam-Carey, Garret Dillahunt, etc.--deserve better roles in better shows, and if AMC can't get Fear back on track, I can't imagine they'll stick around for long. I can't imagine that Kim Dickens or Frank Dillane have any regrets at this point.

And so here we are. Two episodes left. A brand new group of boring villains. All the characters on the show far less interesting and compelling than they ought to be. A story that has rambled and wobbled since the start of Season 5 and still managed to get nowhere.

I swear, you could just cut almost this entire season and it wouldn't matter. You could skip the whole thing and it wouldn't matter. Nobody has died. Nothing has changed. We've picked up some new characters along the way, but they haven't brought anything very worthwhile to the table. The apocalypse itself is a timid, milquetoast affair.

The one mildly interesting character was Logan and he showed up just to get killed off by the Pioneers. He was little more than a totally pointless red herring. Dwight showed up, shaved his beard, and promptly fell into the Hive Mind, pissing away whatever personality he had left to become an acolyte of the great prophet Morgan.

What a mess. What an utterly inexcusable, entirely avoidable disaster. There's no two ways about this. Showrunners Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg have, with the blessing of Scott Gimple and the higher-ups at AMC, managed to completely ruin this show. And there's no sign it's going anywhere but down. I honestly can't believe they haven't been replaced at this point, and I cannot fathom why AMC would keep them around to ruin Season 6 as well. Maybe if ratings keep slipping and fans keep raging, we'll get the change we so desperately need.

The only question is whether or not it's too late.

[twitchesandstitches]

Polypa Cosplay Comm

Commission for a hyper-muscular Polypa attempting to figure out cosplay with her massive body and a huge muscle-gut!

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

Cosplay competitions were very serious business in the circles that Polypa and Tegiri ran and sometimes fought to the death in, and it was complicated enough without the difficulties of a massive, atypical build like Polypa’s when it came to cosplay when slim and lean were all the rage now.

It was tough enough getting fitted when you had enough muscle for a whole army of sub-jugglators, let along a ab-studded muscle gut big enough to press all of them too.

In Tegiri’s hive, Polypa grunted through her masking bandages, desperately trying to pull on a special harness for anchoring clothes to a body like her’s. She was learning a few things about cosplay: the first important detail was that even when they did make something for trolls as buxom as her, getting the damn things on wasn’t actually factored in. Sure, they fit, but actually forcing your apocaly-globes into place was frustrating as hell.

The second thing was that while they made things for busty trolls, no one had factored in something like her gut.

Tegiri paced and fretted around her, doing his part to help, and they both agreed that his vastly smaller size would allow him to get at the areas she wouldn’t be able to reach on herself; she was envious that he was already fully dressed up.

The idea for both of them was to dress up like the main couple from Hardgrit Transmogrificationist, a series renowned for both the complexity of its title and the bitter fandom wars between the dozens of animated adaptations (and the very literal war between the studios adapting it, and the terrifying brownblood author). Tegiri was to be Winway Rockall, the mechanist maintaining the protagonist’s metallic limbs and serving as an emotional anchor for the story. His cosplay was simply enough; a slim tubetop, a worn bandana, and a jumpsuit made for a convincing look.

Polypa, going as the main protagonist Edowar Elrick, was having a signficantly harder time of it, given that the character was infamously small and lean, and she was… not either of those things, at all.

Polypa heaved and struggled, her massive biceps twisting like trees trying to drill to bedrock and fast-track the whole root system thing. She rocked in too-small room, her shoulders rising and falling, the air rippling around her as her violent motions did to the air what legislacerators typically did to those they accused, and all the while she tried as absolutely hard as possible to not rip the very expensive fabrics.

But the most impressive thing there was Polypa’s stomach. Well, the second most impressive thing was Polypa’s stomach. Technicallly it would normally have gotten number one status, but the dress’s continued survival, against all the odds, was somehow even more startling.

Troll guts tended to be pretty big; the prevailing scientific theory was that any troll who lived long and ate enough never really stopped growing, They tended towards bigger sizes compared to aliens of vaguely similar morphologies; larger curves, bigger hips, broader muscles, and so on. But Polypa’s metabolism had mutated in a very unusual way, layering itself into a bigger digestive tract located exclusively in her stomach like an internal furnace, dedicated to converting every bit into fuel for more muscle growth. This had resulted in her being absolutely gigantic and slabbed in so much muscle that she was nearly more muscle than troll now, and a lot of it had gone to making her stomach even bigger. Her abs encircled her gut, expanding it outwards by several feet with muscle mass alone, and the whole thing was a roundness nearly bigger than she was.

Impressive? Absolutely. A source of great pride and pleasure to her? Very much. But convenient for cosplays?

She was finding out the answer to that one was ‘fuck no, absolutely not’.

Polypa tugged and wrenched at the straps that would keep her cosplay clothing anchored and, hopefuly, safe from her muscle’s impact, but she just didn’t have the leverage to pull it right. She sighed and said, “Tegiri, I’m giving up on handling this one. Gonna need some help here.”

“Right,” came a voice near her, but out of sight. “Understood.”

Polypa looked around worriedly for Tegiri, but couldn’t see him anyway, and she tried to stand as still as possible to avoid kicking him or accidentally sitting on him, or landing her belly atop him.

The best she could say for Tegiri was that he was somewhere behind her. She could feel his dextrous claws, patiently zipping things up and assiting like an inverted gremlin; and his current role was fixing the supportive framework that would keep her cosplay outfit properly fitted once she got it on. He was buckling a supporting strap into place here, and there he tied a knot around massive thigh muscles wider across than his entire body.

Polypa turned her head backwards, squinting with the one eye not covered by her bandages. Her pupil dilated and she tried to see a hint of teal; no such luck. She was just too big, and she couldn’t make anything out past her gigantic shoulders, the outwards curve of her belly (so big it was going backwards), and the extreme musculature of her backside.

She did see some vague hint of Tegiri as he darted to the other side of her body. She felt him, rather than saw him; he moved close to one massive hip made even bigger by her muscle development, and ducked as a strap broke apart. He was on it right away, but moved at a very bad time; he approached just as she put some weight backward, her butt descending down, and it was so big, two round masses of muscle, and there was just the slightest impact from hyper-beefy butt to troll.

Polypa turned around at the instant crashing noise. There was a small grater in the hive floor, and across the room, there was a broken wall. No, several broken walls, shattered in an instant, and visible through them was Tegiri, imbedded in the wall and twitching faintly. “Shit!” Polypa said, rushing towards him. Her massive doom-globes, easily the equal of her backside but somehow looking smaller on her muscular frame, bounced and smashed some additional room through the walls as she ran towards him.

Tegiri twitched in extremely faint disapproval as Polypa charged. Her belly, that massive muscular round cannonball of a gut, left ab-shaped imprints on the walls extremely briefly before its sheer impact power totally removed them from existence. And she kept coming, nearly dropping to an animalistic lope in her instinctive drive to get to him, perhaps constantly reminding herself that her belly and rumblespheres were too big to let her do that without beaching herself.

She contented herself with just running through his walls, smashing everything in her way, and with some effort, leaning down to pull him out. Tegiri’s entire perspective was filled with nothing but Polypa; easily three times his size, larger even than a fuchsia-blood (not that they ever had a chance to see that for themselves), and his perpetually grim demeanor was almost comically understated as her fist closed around the entirety of his arm; she pulled him out of the whole with a slight ‘pop’, and very gently, she started to put him on the ground.

She reconsidered, as her belly started to lean against what was left of the hive wall when she did that and the framework made some very ominous creaking noises, and cracks. Tegiri was doing his best to be supportive and a proper moirail, but she saw him glancing at the wall, trepidation in his expression. She stood up and simply plopped him down onto her belly, just in front of her doom-rack.

Tegiri settled comfortably onto a plane of abs, sinking slightly into the very defined divide between them. “I may need to warn you of where I am at all times.”

Polypa nodded, and then when she realized that Tegiri’s view of her cleavage probably didn’t give him a view of her face, said, “Alright, I can do that.” She turned aside, staring at the walls ruefully. A few bits of bio-plastic fell down, some smaller chunks still dangling like stubborn bits of drool. “Sorry about your house. ...Again.”

Tegiri sighed. “I can afford it,” he said, though he winced. Getting ahold of authentic replicas of Edowar’s prosthetic murder-limbs would take a longer amount of time to obstain now.

Polypa didn’t mind, per se. She enjoyed the challenge of making do with ingenious, cheap methods of cosplay, but she did mind the impact she was having on his house. “My hive is bigger. Built for my bulk; getting sick of breaking your stuff, you know.”

Tegiri’s eyes widened. “I would not banish you from my hive!” He said firmly. “Such is absolutely unacceptable for a proper moirail, for the ideals I uphold!”

Polypa extremely large lips made an indent in her bandages as she smiled coyly. “Ya don’t say.” She bent to give him a pale kiss; bearing in mind the logistical issues of this, she thrust her mighty thighs against her belly, forcing up, up; and at the same time, she grabbed her doom-globes and pushed them up with him now between them, so that Tegiri was propelled on a sea of boob and belly, right to her face.

Her mouth was covered. Even so, she felt the coolness of his skin, and the taste of his cheek. And the rush of his blushing.

Tegiri leaned in, entire face turning a lovely shade of teal, nad Polypa grinned as they parted. His face went through an interesting display of emotions, apparently trying them out until it found what that properly captured his mix of embarrassment, delight, and doing its best to hide them all. “AHEM,” he said loudly. “We, ah. Must not dawdle all day. We do have an engagement to meet!”

Polypa made an air of considering it, just to see if he would take her seriously. He didn’t take the bait, so she shrugged. Various additional muscles as big across as several highbloods moved around each other. “If you think we’ll make it in time.”

“We will! We simply have to get the harness worked out, then we can fit everything else on.”

“All right then.”

Tegiri slid down and went back to the room they had started in, and Polypa followed.

They went back to the basics, this time with Tegiri wheeling in a complicated device Polypa had gotten for him for just such an event, though this one was originally meant for trolls who were much smaller than their lusii and needed to ascend upwards to perform grooming. But it had all sorts of attachments and fold-out platforms that made it ideal for their purposes, and it was able to be tall enough to even reach up to her face, or establish scaffolds around her shoulders.

It was just extremely cumbersome, and large. Even with a tealblood’s superior strength (at least by the metric of other olivebloods; Polypa’s individual muscle fibers packed more power than entire bluebloods had, and she doubted that even a fuchsia had anything on her raw strength potential now), he panted and struggled to move the huge assemblage, and he looked a little bit like he was trying to move an old-fashioned siege tower all on his own. She took it with a hand, lifting several tons of metal and wheely bits and not even feeling the weight, placed it down in the middle of the room.

She unfolded the device, and unfurled it too, extending several scaffolds that would encircle her, and in this, she sat down, looking a bit like a beast that was at a grooming station. “I’m thinking, got too much weight up top for the bottom bits to be holding on all on their own. Fix it up around my doom-globes first, and anchor it onto my shoulders, and the rest should be nice and fit. Right?”

“I think so, yes!” Tegiri agreed. He got the rest of the cosplay harness and, ascending the grooming ladder, carefully lined it up with her back and he ascended upwards. Her back was like a topographical map of mountain ranges, some of her muscles sticking out further than the span of his arms.

It was… imposing. And they were startlingly soft to the touch. As he placed a length of supporting fabric against her, his hand sank into a thorax-girder big enough for him to sleep on.

He could feel her grinning. Possibly more a sly smirk than a big grin, but he just KNEW she was doing it anyway, the fiend.

Polypa, in turn, felt him climb up behind her, the foundations put down. Then he looped it down one of her shoulders, descending down to tie it properly, and he swung around, doing it to the other shoulder. He climbed back up, lacking the harness and strapping it properly, and Polypa glanced at a nearby Polypa-sized mirror. She looked a bit like she was wearing a corset.

She was able to work the cups of her harness over her doom-spheres, and there was barely enough to cover anything at all, but it anchored right, and that was the main thing. She gave a few tugs, and the harness remained stable, at least up top. Tegiri started to go down, but paused. “This would be even more secure if we put it around your stomach-”

“No.”

“We won’t be able to get any clothing around it like this!”

“Yeah, that’s the point.” Polypa smacked her massive belly with a smug grin; it didn’t make a slapping sound, but a resonant noise like someone striking an especially bulky drum. “I am NOT covering this beauty up. No way.”

Tegiri scowled, displeased at the disloyalty to the cosplay, but he couldn’t argue about it with her. “Well, Edowar is famously always taking his shirt off; perhaps we could work that in, somehow?” He went down and kicked the wheels in, and in a smooth motion, kicked the ladder around; it wheeled about, as if on a track, and as it went, he stopped it to affix the harness to the bits on her hips and thighs, rather like sensual garter belts (though rather strained, the muscle mass almost more than they could handle).

Several more things were locked together, clicked into place, and connected, and Tegiri pronounced it as good as it would get. Polypa slowly got up, minding him, using the vast forwards weight of her stomach to leverage herself up. She looked in the mirror again, and while it wasn’t the point, she thought she looked kinda sexy; it felt a bit odd, like wearing a full body corset. She flexed and moved, enjoying the way it moved with her swelling muscles, and the loops around the base of her very sensitive belly; now that felt right!

“Mind getting the outfit itself?” Polypa asked him, now slowly walking around and getting used to it. There wasn’t any real problem moving around, but she was trying to see if maybe flexing the right muscle would snap a bit of fabric in the wrong place or something, and break the whole thing. He nodded and came back, pushing a huge wheelbarrow big enough for him to tote several beds in. Leathery fabrics, and something red, filled it to the brim.

One by one, Polypa took out the cosplay pieces and placed them down while Tegiri had a rest. She sorted them appropriately:

Item one.  A big red coat, with the sign symbol passed down by Edowar’s teacher, Izumii. Big enough to make a decent flag out of, and a primary concern for Polypa was that this wouldn’t cover up her stomach or keep her from showing it off at all. Simple enough to work with.

Item two: shoes and gloves. She considered this one item, because it wouldn’t be too tricky to work out.

Item three: A set of metallic dress pieces, meant to fix to a limb to give the impression of a prosthetic arm and leg. Very expensive and fitted to her beefy specifications, but hopefully, with the harness… they would stay on.

Item four, and she dreaded this one: a pair of skinny leather pants, and a shirt worn over a closed vest. In theory she could go with the open shirt of later plot developments but she was going for iconic looks, and this WAS her character’s iconic outfit.

She tried not to think about it: how the hell was she supposed to get this on?

Polypa shook her head, dismissing the thought, and one by one, Tegiri returned to the ladder and helped her put it all on.

First, the prosthetics. this was not too hard, as she simply had to lock them into place around her arm and leg; they snapped on, built to interlock and function very nicely. From shoulder to fingers, and knee to toe-claws, they snapped on. Soon her limbs were encased in slightly pitted metal (for that authentic look) and she moved around to see the different it made. A bit more weight than she was used to, but not so much it would impede movement.

The metal bits WERE very bulky though; a lot more than expected. (“Might be able to reuse those for a Fatehand cosplay,” Tegiri mused. “The size would fit!”)

Next, the pants and the torso wear, and she thought it best to get this done as soon as possible, not just for the obvious reasons of shoes and things, but because she wanted it over with. Tegiri had to help her do it in stages and she winced as he pulled her pants up over her massive legs, the leathers creaking very ominously with the slightest hint of leg twitch. It creaked much worse once it got to her backside, and she winced, waiting for something to burst, but they looped it onto the harness, and she twitched her hips as an experiment. Nothing happened, and she walked around, testing it some more. Again, nothing happened.

The undershirt. It got around her horns by being one of the kinds of shirt that opened on one side to be placed on the shoulder than then closed back up. This went fine enough, but then it wrapped over her rumblespheres, and that WAS a problem; she was too busty for even this shirt, and it was the largest one they had. It hung down, stressed in the middle, securing braces severely strained. Tegiri gave her a speculative look. “You, uh. Have some underboob at present.”

She KNEW she could feel some air there! “Never mind that.”

“But, the look is compromised. We could refit it-”

Polypa’s veins swelled, throbbing and pulsing, as she thought about the logistics of, of refitting her shirt now! Forget covering her doom-globes, if it got anywhere near her belly it would be destroyed! “No, no! We can work with this! Get the vest.”

Tegiri complied, pulling it up, and if anything, this was even trickier by far. The process involved a lot of swiveling around, some acrobatics on Tegiri’s part, Polypa working and flexing her muscles in some very strange ways to maneuver things right, and the real tricky bit came as they tried to force the underside around the base of her stomach; the region where her belly met her torso and rested beneath her doom-globes.

Try as they might, it just would not clip together.

Polypa tried to suck it in, to no avail. In the end, they just clipped it together, tugging it over her belly as much as possible, for something of a crop jacket look. It was, she admitted, strangely in character.

Then came the shoes, the gloves. They fit on properly; they were built for Polypa’s size, and better yet, were designed to work with the specific inserts she was wearing on her limbs for the cosplay.

Last of all, they slid on the coat (a positive relief after the complexities thus far), and tied up her hair into the signature braid of Edowar Elrick. Then, she and Tegiri clipped all the clothes onto the harness, so that it was mainly supported BY the harness and not her body, and thus hopefully protected from the destructive impact she could put out.

Once it was all done, they examined her look. Polypa looked into the mirror, moving left and right, and Tegiri rode on her shoulder, looking anxious on her behalf.

“Hrm,” Polypa said, very dubious and uncertain.

She turned left, moving as far as she could without her magnificent gut being entirely out of view. The coat helped a lot with keeping the looking as iconic as possible; it covered the harness that was keeping all the clothes attached, for example, and it gave her massive body a certain dramatic flair.

Her stomach, the vast and slightly pendous orb it was, provided a sense of reassuring weight. Yes, it really did not fit her cosplay at all, but part of the point of these contests was to push things as far as you possibly could without compromising the look. Perhaps she had done just that… perhaps. She turned some more, her coat flashing dramatically, her metal-covered limbs glinting beneath the coat, and she had to admit something.

She didn’t look entirely in-character, but she still looked damn cool.

Then again, a thought like that WAS in-character for Edowar, famed in-story for his terrible and gaudy taste. She shrugged.

“I still think we might be able to extend the top pieces…” Tegiri began.

But Polypa shook her head. “No. I can work with this.”

“...Really?”

She smiled. “Yeah, really. Come on.” She picked him up and tossed him onto her shoulder. “We’re gonna be late!”

“Oh, yes, right! We must hurry!”

The two of them took off, to the competition, and Polypa felt surprised at her optimism. At least she had tried!

As they left, Tegiri said, “You could have gone as Strong Armsta.” He wrote this down in a little notebook, perhaps noting it for future cosplays. “You have the bulk! The attitude! And his cosplays are not terribly hard, you just need the right build.”

The image brought to mind a boisterous, lovable purpleblood that Polypa could have carried in an instant. She thought about it. “Nah,” she said. “Not now, I mean. I wouldn’t mind it, but that outfit is totally topless and I don’t want to be fandom famous for that. Want to build up my reputation first.”

Tegiri pushed his glasses up. “Point taken.”

[sidehugsnsideblogs]

The Happiest Helpmeet #31-Raychel’s Wedding

Hello Everyone! Here we are- The Big Day! My eldest daughter is GETTING MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The house was abuzz with excitement the moment we opened our eyes. I was the first awake with terrible morning sickness. This pregnancy has left me feeling so ILL and WORN OUT though I am STILL grateful to be a vessel for new life!

Ray and I spent the morning reminiscing about the early years of our marriage-all the TRIUMPHS and TRIALS! We are so excited for our little girl to be experiencing everything for herself!

As the girls started waking up, they truly realized that this is their last morning all together FOREVER. It was bittersweet listening to them share stories and secrets as they readied themselves for what awaits them.

Raychel has taught Raylene EVERYTHING she knows about FEMININITY! She has taken our muddy little tomboy and painstakingly showed her how to act like a LADY. 

Rayanne has always looked up to Raychel as a second mother. It will be hard for her to adjust to Raychel’s absence but at least she’s old enough to understand that this a GOOD TRANSITION and that this is what she should aspire to!

Rayna, now a toddler, doesn’t really understand what’s going on. I do hope she’ll be able to remember the LOVE and JOY that Raychel brought to the house. Right now, she just wants one more airplane ride with her big sister. 

There’s no doubt in my mind that Raychel’s departure will be hardest on Rayvin. Not just because Rayvin will be shouldering more responsibility in running the household but because Raychel and Rayvin are BEST FRIENDS. They have been since the day Rayvin was born. Apart from my twins they’re the closest in age and are utterly inseparable. Rayvin has already been looking pouty while Raychel was shopping and wedding planning but she’s been trying to put on a brave face.

Once all the HAPPY TEARS were shed, we began to get ready. The bridesmaids gowns that Raychel chose were too short for my tastes but Rayvin and Raylene looked lovely, albeit a little sluttish. Raychel, of course, looked STUNNING!

Once hair and make-up were finished (it saves money to do it yourself!) We all headed over to the church. Raychel and Travis had the notion to have an OUTDOOR wedding but Ray and I had to put our feet down. We have a church so why not use it????

The guests started streaming into the church for the wedding. It looks like Sadia has an announcement of her own!

Ray opened the ceremony with a speech and a prayer for the couple, just as he had for Ray and Sadia. He asked all to pray for the young couple to CLEAVE unto each other and weather all the STORMS of MATRIMONY.

Unbeknownst to us, Travis was so nervous while getting ready that broke out in HIVES! We had no idea until he sent Rayman to the pharmacy to pick up some Benedryl. That cleared everything right up.

Once the hives subsided Travis walked to the front of the chapel, the bridesmaids filed in after him. In liew of live music the sound system played a DUET that Raychel and Travis recorded together the previous week. SO SWEET. I could not help but cry!

Raymond walked Raychel down the aisle! He was fighting back tears as he gave his BABY GIRL away to ANOTHER MAN! Ray Jr’s wedding was PURE JOY because we gained a daughter but this one was bittersweet because we’re LOSING one of our own!

Travis took her by the hands and launched into his VOWS. He promised to always seek GOD in his decisions, to always ask for Raychel’s input as a partner, to love her even when she cannot love herself and to lead her in good faith.

Raychel promised to JOYFULLY SUBMIT herself to him, now and FOREVER. To raise up his children in a RIGHTEOUS way, and to keep him safe from himself and basic WEAKNESSES of men.

He slid a VERY EXPENSIVE looking ring onto Raychel’s finger and just like that! She became his WIFE and no longer our DAUGHTER! Tears streamed down my face. I’m going to miss my BIGGEST HELPER!

He kissed her hand as he placed the ring, dipping her slightly. I almost swooned! How suave! Raymond and I should take a couple’s vacation this Love Day after the baby is born!

Raychel straightened herself and in a very immodest display, if I do say so myself, pulled her new husband in for a real kiss BY THE WAIST! No wonder their engagement was so short! These lovebirds can’t keep their hands off each other!

The newlywed couple then sprinted into the hall to where their cake was waiting for them. We guests filed out too to watch!

Raychel, already such a TALENTED homemaker, baked her own WEDDING CAKE. A white cake with vanilla buttercream icing, fresh, wild mint and syrup made from the berries in Travis’ garden!

In true Strickmann fashion we quickly added some birthday candles to the cake so we could age up Rayson and send him off to camp with his brothers. Happy Birthday Rayson! We will see you again in a few months!

Then it was time to CUT the CAKE! The last part of the wedding. All the children were sent home to bed. Only teens and up are allowed sugar after 7pm!

Raychel and Travis cut the first slice and shared it. Raychel said she was more worried about poking him in the face with a FORK than she was about having her first KISS! If she knew what ELSE her wedding night could entail I’m sure she’d be most NERVOUS about that!

Raymond and I were VERY careful to GUARD Raychel’s PURITY for the entire time she lived under our roof. She understands the IDEA of marital intimacy but we purposefully kept her (and all our children) in the dark about the LOGISTICS!

But I’m sure they’ll figure it out ;) 

Goodnight and Godbless Mr. and Mrs Travis Scott

-Rebecca

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[ithacamoma]

20 QUESTIONS FOR: TAMMY SALZL

image courtesy of the artist and DC3 Art Projects

1.Name:

Tammy Salzl

2.Occupation(s):

Artist, Sessional Teacher in Senior Level Painting at the University of Alberta.

3.Where are you from and what is your education?

I was born in Edmonton, AB, into a gigantic dysfunctional family with 18 aunts and uncles, 42 first cousins and barely one parent. I spent my summers being tortured as an English speaking city slicker in French speaking prairie farm communities. Retreating into art and stories and animals was the salvation I didn’t find in the fundamentalist religion I was periodically thrown into. For my undergrad I did 2 years at ACAD (Now called AUArts), and finished my BFA at the University of Alberta.  I received my Masters in Studio Arts (Painting) at Concordia University in Montreal 2014 and have been expanding my practice to include video and multimedia installation since graduation.

4.Where do you live/work (neighbourhood/city/country)?

For the past 3 yrs I’ve been splitting my year between the Southside of Edmonton, AB. and Parc Ex in Montreal QC. I have family in both places, which makes this both possible and necessary.

5.Does your location affect your practice?  

Definitely! Emotionally, psychologically and logistically. I’m lucky to be able to spend time in both eastern and western Canada. Sometimes they seem like entirely different worlds and it’s a privilege to be able to step into both. It broadens my field of vision.

6.What is your favourite tool in the studio?

I have two favourite things. My glue gun, because I love glueing stuff, it makes me feel like a little kid again! I also love it when I have a fresh, unused brush in hand.

7.Where do you look for your source material?

Everywhere! Movies, books, (I love sci-fi books, and I just finished 2 books by Yuval Noah Harari - Sapiens and 21 Lessons for the 21st Century - so gooood!) mythology, ecology, weird/wondrous animals (like the barrel eye fish or the Aye-aye), bus stops, Edmonton’s River valley, back alleys in Montreal, weird stop motion animations, the fresh sights, sounds and smells that come with travel, looking at art and, occasionally, the bottom of my wine glass.

8.What is you daily art world read?

I email subscribe to a bunch of art blogs (like Hyperallergic and artdaily.org etc), and I also try to read Border Crossings and Canadian Art magazines, but honestly a lot of my art world reads come from instagram. Cuz you know… pictures.

9.What is your daily non-art-world read?

I love science and nature blogs. I really enjoy nature.com, naturecanada.ca,  futurism.com/, and for quick global news stuff I like Quartz Daily Brief. It’s hard…you don’t want to be ill informed yet it’s so bleak out there…I think overexposure to media can be harmful. I try to find a balance.

10.What role does writing play in your practice?

Sadly, not much. It’s an inescapable task for every artist, and one I dearly wish I could escape. That said, aside from the necessary evil of artist statement/proposal/grant type of writing, I sometimes play at creative writing. I make little one page tales that turn into paintings, or I write a short narratives based on something I’ve made. I’ll often have automatic writing embedded in my underpaintings, and if you look hard enough you can sometimes find traces of a word here and there.

11.What role does research play in your practice?

Because I peddle in tales, I research the history, culture, psychology, pop culture, philosophy of whatever traditional tale or mythology I’m referencing, and how others have interpreted those tales over time - even if I’m referencing something like Dr. Seuss. I often tie that into the research I do out of my interest in ecology and nature. For me, working representationally means there is intension in everything. I try to have layers of meaning and make work that engenders multiple interpretations. I research the symbolism and history of objects, places, animals, colours , etc. With my installations there is a lot of material research involved as well.

12.What role does collaboration play in your practice?

Since expanding my painting practice into intermedia work, I’ve done quite a bit of collaborating in the form of “I don’t know how to do this technical thing so I need to find someone who does”. It’s taught me a lot in terms of learning to communicate and work with others. As a solitary person, it’s a challenge for me, but I also find it incredibly rewarding and enriching. Also, a couple of years ago 4 female artist friends and I began an art collective called IFPP (incubator for phantom pregnancies) We’ve staged a couple exhibitions and have some upcoming shows, and it’s been really great. You learn a lot about yourself in a collaborative process, and it’s exhilarating ending up with this thing you helped create, but in a mind hive kind of way.

13.How does success affect your practice?

Ideas of success are pretty subjective, no? Speaking in terms of non-commercial success, I would say it helps drives my practice forward. It gives you the incentive and confidence to keep going, to make more, to take risks and think bigger. Sometimes commercial/monetary success can do the opposite because you’re expected to make more of the same, sellable stuff - to keep the formula and not colour outside those lines.

14.How does failure affect your practice?

Failure is an opportunity to learn, and can lead to amazing things. I suck at it. I can be super stubborn and fight with a painting that’s not working for days and days. I’m often my own worst enemy. I’m learning to walk away, to turn the bloody thing facing the wall and only come back to it when I can be more objective - when I’m in a better place to paint over the 100 hours invested and start over.

15.What do you identify as the biggest challenge in your artistic process?

My own stubbornness! My own rules and obsessiveness and need for control. I can get restrained by fear of making something ‘bad,' and I struggle to let myself play more, to let myself ‘fail’. I can get too caught up in my own head. I struggle with a lot of self doubt. A dear friend of mine recently sent me a beautiful quote by Robert Hughes in an attempt to assuage my doubt:

 “The greater the artist, the greater the doubt. Perfect confidence is granted to the less talented as a consolation prize.” 

I’m not so sure this is the case, but it’s nice to hear!

Also, like so many of us, I struggle socially and will hide in my studio rather than go to an art opening when I know I should be trying to make “connections”. Wine helps tremendously in all my struggles.

16.Who are some historical artists you are thinking about?

This fluctuates a great deal. I often find myself interested in artists I thought I didn’t like years ago, and will lose interest in artists I thought I loved. Art crushes come and go. I just bought a Frida Kahlo book and am rediscovering my fascination with her.

17.Who are some contemporary artists you are thinking about?

Everyone and no one in particular. I was in LA last January and saw an amazing Outsider Art show at LACMA. There was a piece by Greer Lankton titled, “Candy Darling” depicting a transgender actress who was featured in several of Andy Warhol’s films and was one of Lankton’s icons she looked up to as a trans woman. It’s exquisite with an edgy sexuality - totally blew my mind. I also saw some Mark Bradford works at The Broad that really surprised me. You have to be in front of them to understand how profound, beautiful, raw and sophisticated they are.

18.How do you describe what you are making now?

Right now I’m bouncing all over the place with various mediums. I’m working on a new series of oils, sort of taking the piss out of patriarchal old fables and the misogynistic way they portrayed women by retelling them through a contemporary lens. I’m also making a series of small, intricate “naughty fairies” made out of Sculpey (imagine tinker bell-like creatures going down on each other), some larger installation pieces that incorporate a variety of materials - video, sound, found and crafted objects, and I just completed my first short narrative video with footage shot on an artist residency I did in Norway last year. 

Sometimes I feel like I’m spreading myself too thin and there’s an invisible pressure to focus on one thing, but I’m a storyteller and I use whatever mediums best suites the tale. I think everything I do remains distinctly me, it all has connective threads. Generally I paint in the morning and move onto video and sculpture in the afternoon/evening. Painting is mentally challenging in a very singular way; it’s super humbling and I need a fresh, rested brain to do it.

19.Who is an artist that you think deserves more attention?

Oh man. Too many to count. Seems to me art world trends often translate into amazing artists not getting their due. I think Canadian artists in general deserve more of the international spot light. There’s so much talent here.

20.How can we find out more about you (relevant links etc)?

I keep my website pretty up to date, including upcoming shows and press links etc.

www.tammysalzl.com