#i will not be an angry drunk. i am a dumb/happy drunk (/mantra)

[tony-andonuts]

I think ive decided to go to my dads funeral in a dress, despite his super conservative mentees. He'd likely expect it from me and luckily his side of the fam are all faggots and trannies but ughhhhh i am dreading it. Also I know I'm expected to come up with a eulogy and a roast segment, along with talking to others but I can't and won't. (On a semi-non-seious note the eulogy i cant do bc yknow. And the roast because im too cutthroat and would start drama lmao)

Probably obvious that I've never attended a funeral for someone I actually knew but this shit fucking sucks, no one should have to be prepared for their own parent's funeral at 21

(And no one should have to get neglected by the healthcare system to the point of death but oh well it already happened)

[gaiabamman]

Get “Linked”, a sci-fi political romance with fantasy elements, here (Kindle, paperback and Audible!)

Summary: Nala is a riotous liberal. When she discovers that she is Cursoi, gifted individuals that form a military caste, she infiltrates them with the goal to kill newly elected President Crash, a hateful bigot. Unexpectedly, she falls in love with fellow soldier Drama, whose skill is empathy. Nala, who was raised human, struggles with Cursoi culture, where “merging” (similar to human intercourse) is very common and non exclusive. Things precipitate when Nala “links” with gorgeous and conservative Lethal, the killer of their Cursoi unit. “Linking” means that the two, who hate each other’s guts, share their consciousness and feelings. Nala inevitably learns about Lethal’s dark past and Lethal learns about Nala’s fears and secrets. It does not help that Lethal is Drama’s sworn enemy. Nala, who has a science background, starts researching Cursoi with the pretext of making them stronger, when in fact she is looking for weaknesses to attack them from the inside out. Interestingly, Lethal takes some s*it about the fact that he won’t merge with men (what’s wrong with him?! Why the discrimination?).

Currently, Nala is facing her first mission after linking, which took a lot of adjusting. As a Cursoi, she is compelled to follow orders and right now she has to kill a sniper attempting at the president’s life. Will she? Also both Nala and Lethal have not been “merging” since when they linked, and the situation is becoming unsustainable for both of them.

Warning: mild language, some explicit content.

By the way, the trees on the cover are pyramidal neurons. GEEK OUT!

Nala! Lethal says in my head. Nala, we have to! You’re blocking me!

Lethal and I stop the sniper’s heart, and I almost pass out. I cannot believe we just killed a man. I cannot believe I could have disobeyed after all. Lethal’s bewilderment echoes within me, resonating with the implications of the discovery. Yet, for now, I’m choking with the guilt for the man I killed.

Vulture makes the corpse disappear. Zera removes him from anyone’s memory. I cling to Lethal’s inner shield, to his wall. I need it. I can’t deal with this. Lethal shifts and his elbow touches mine. Serenity invades me, and for the first time maybe ever, I am grateful to have Lethal at my side.

Nala, we just followed orders, he says.

I just followed orders, I repeat, like a mantra. I just followed orders, but I didn’t have to. Did I?

President Crash says, “The first month of my office has been an absolute success. The Few passed unanimously the Religious Freedom Act. This should settle the haters who called me a racist. I respect everyone.”

The crowd claps. I hold back a smirk at the people flipping Crash off as a sign of love and respect. You get what you sow, I guess.

Drama says, “Disturbance, a fight is starting.”

Emo says, “Sedated.”

I add, “Kid got crushed. Healed.”

Zera says, “Removed. He won’t even remember.”

President Crash says, “Also, we finished the budget, and will be able to save 300 billion Uni on what was projected by the previous president.”

Whoa. Maybe he does know what he’s doing.

“Also, we are cranking down on illegal immigrants, just like I promised. I will make it impossible for Saturnites to come to Earth, unless they’re needed. You put your trust in the right man, and remember! The end justifies the means!”

When he walks away, waving, the crowd is still roaring.

Ghost says, “President secured. Dime, take us home.”

This time, I do feel like I’m going back home.

That night there’s a lot of Libre. Apprentices look like devils in the light of the lanterns. The crickets scream in my pounding head. A number of Apprentices come to hit on me, or to ask questions about what’s going on between Lethal and me and linking in general. I don’t even reply. I barely register the chatter around me, or Zera rubbing herself against Lethal three seats down. He evades most questions, focusing on a more physical type of interaction.

No matter how much Libre I down, the guy I killed keeps dropping dead in front of me. Did he have a family? He must have known he was gonna die for nothing. What a waste of life. At my hand.

“Rogue, you’re quiet tonight,” Min says, sitting across the table from me, and I don’t even answer, downing more Libre, and wishing him away. After I ignore him, he starts talking to Kino. Lethal’s hand is now around Echo. I can feel Zera in his lap, her sweet perfume sickens me. He must hate it too.

Drama is missing, and so is Emo. I think about Lethal’s stubborn refusal to merge with men, the pitiful encounter with Drama. Is he merging with Emo? I do get it, though, Lethal. With everything that happened to you, I get it.

You’re drunk, he says.

But I get it. I can feel Lethal’s anger as he squeezes Echo’s butt a little too tight. She smiles, biting his shoulder. Gross.

Lethal says in my head, Funny how it never occurred to you to merge with a woman, because I certainly wouldn’t object to that. The realization hits me like a dunk in the cold springs. And you weren’t even raped, Rogue. People just have preferences, get over yourself.

I reply, I don’t care about merging, now! How can you not care about the guy we killed?

He says, You’re just too weak to admit you’re wrong.

He closes his eyes and thinks of his first kill, the Master who abused him, and every kill that followed. Each one was painful and guilt ridden, till they all blurred in his self-hatred.

He says, have another round of Libre, Rogue, you’re such a role model.

Drama appears at the edge of the darkness, with Emo, laughing and pushing each other around. They sit and start drinking, chatting with everyone. Then Drama’s eyes find us.

I say in my head, Drama is watching us.

I don’t give a bonk.

Clearly. Like I said, I get it—

Shut the bonk up, Rogue! You don’t!

Zera jumps off Lethal’s lap, startled, and then leans her head on Drama’s shoulder. It breaks my heart a little more.

Lethal cannot shut me up. I know we shouldn’t talk in each other’s head so much, but it’s pretty easy to keep our consciousnesses apart, when we’re fighting and doing things the other never would. Yet, I do understand how after being abused by his Master, he’d rather be in control of merging. I’m not surprised he’s not into men. Even with women, he’s always on top.

Lethal growls, Get out of my head! And I’m into no one. No one can even bear to talk to me.

I can see why. My snarky, drunk remark hurts him. I didn’t mean it, Lethal.

Oh, go bonk yourself! Or is that too dirty for your frigid ass?

The only reason Lethal does nothing about Zera kissing Drama’s neck is that he enjoys how much that’s hurting me.

He continues, So ready to judge me, but you’re the Cursoi freak, Rogue. And your hero, here, with his hand in Zera’s pants? He’d rather merge with humans. Ain’t that strange?

I’m holding back the tears. I guess.

He’d merge with anyone but you, in fact.

Because you won’t let us, jerk!

Lethal glares at me, furious, because that was a low blow, and because we are all freaks, in our own way. It’s easy to gang up against someone, and I’d rather shoot that get shot.

The sniper dying comes back to mind.

Lethal’s anger makes so much sense. Damn, I thought I was lonely. I’m sorry, Lethal.

What did you just say?

I’m sorry, Lethal. You’re right.

Are you now? Well, bonk you, Rogue. He turns away, and I clearly see Zera throwing a hopeful look his way. I guess she likes it rough.

I hold back the tears and my mind is taken up again by images of the sniper dropping dead before he even had a chance to pull out his termin-aid, the crowd forgetting him within seconds.

I try to stand up and stumble. I’m not even sure what I’m trying to do. I see myself like in a holo-show, walking toward Lethal, and putting a hand on his shoulder. He flinches when the golden light surrounds us. He jerks away from my hand, still angry, but then turns to look at my face and scoots to make room for me on the bench at his side.

By the time Lethal and I stumble back to our place late at night, I’m wasted. The Libre I drank is fogging up his brain too. We haven’t spoken anymore, but strangely, he came home with me.

“You would have slept in the park, if I’d let you,” he slurs, shaking his head to clear it.

“How gentleman-man-ly of you, hic!”

He rolls his eyes. We stop in front of our hot springs, considering the skipping stones.

He leans heavily over my shoulder, and I bask in the warmth and happiness his touch brings us.

He says, “You smell soooo good.”

I giggle, because I know he means it.

“Of course I mean it, Dumb. You pick your hair products. Ergo you like them. Ergo I like them. Also, I haven’t merged in a month and anything smells better than Zera’s perfume.” I laugh. Crickets sing. Hoot the Owl does her thing.

“You named the owl?” he asks. I hiccup. “That’s… cute?” he slurs. He has never said that word before.

I sigh. I like drunk Lethal a bit too much, but I’m pretty sure it’s the Libre. “It was better when you were a meathead,” I say.

“It wasn’t. I wasn’t.”

“Less approachable?” I garble.

“It wasn’t.”

We decide to attempt the skipping stones, his arm still around my neck. We don’t even make the first one. He misses it all together, and I slip.

SPLASH!

In the gurgling of the water in my ears, I heal his head as it’s cracking against the rock bed, then I realize the ankle I twisted when I slipped feels already okay. I emerge, coughing up water.

“I did that,” Lethal says. He’s sitting in the hot water, beside me, his wet tunic clinging to his wide shoulders, wet hair covering his face and bewildered eyes. “I. Did. That,” he repeats, his pride filling my chest, because it’s the first time he’s healed someone rather than killing them.

“Next time, do yourself first,” I chide.

“That sounds mergy, and you healed me first too,” he says.

“Your head was cracking open!”

The words die in my throat when I realize he’s breathing faster, his eyes fixed on the wet fabric clinging to my breasts.

I jump out of the water, fighting his arousal. “You’re drunk,” I say.

“No, you’re drunk,” he whispers, right behind me. Either I’m really drunk, or he’s really nimble. Or both.

I ignore him and stumble to the stair, up and up and around, all the way to the nest, slipping on the last step because of my wet shoes.

Lethal catches me, and warmth spreads through me.

“Maybe you should leave,” I whisper.

“How?” he asks, amused. “And you don’t mean it.”

I feel ashamed of my needs and I want to push Lethal away. I say, “This is where I made love with Drama. I can’t deal with you, Lethal.”

“You can’t deal with yourself, Nala. You touched yourself in that very same nest and didn’t think about it twice. How would this be different?”

“It’s not merging for me, okay?” I step away from him, and I already miss him.

“Nala, you are Cursoi. I know you didn’t know that growing up, but you’re doing to yourself the same thing I did to myself all these years.”

“Sleeping with half the capital?”

“You know what I mean.”

Rejecting yourself.

He turns and leaves, and I ache to feel complete, but I also ache to find the strength to keep lying to myself.

During the following days, I still keep repeating to myself that I just followed orders, and I ignore Lethal’s pity-filled looks. I feel hopeless, my soul crushed with that of the man we killed.

The other Cursoi struggle to adjust to our new situation. Lethal and I can’t stand any of our respective friends. It’s been five days since we resumed our Cursoi routine, merging aside, and the other Apprentices kind of gave up on the idea of merging with us or getting any information about linking. To be honest I feel like anyone barely stands us anymore.

During universal geo, Ghost asks, “What’s the temperature shift on Mercury from night to day?”

I reply, bored, “About sixhundred celsius due to its closeness to the sun, its lack of atmosphere, and slow spinning. It goes from -173 ºC to 427 ºC, which is why Mercury, or Merc, is often used in figures of speech to signify hell.”

Browser rolls his eyes, and Echo even murmurs something that sounds like gibberish imitating my tone. Lethal shuts them all up with a murderous look.

At the end of class we walk to the lab, where we now spend the majority of our time. After our little demonstration on Ghost’s bladder, it became apparent we need training in keeping our sanity much more than manipulating the human body.

Awkward choice of words.

I glare at Lethal and his stupid comments, trying to focus on the data flashing on the holo-charts. The truth is that I can’t avoid pining for Drama every time I see him.

Get over yourself. You merged once, Lethal says, full of spite.

It was more special than anything you’ve ever had. Silence. I can only feel Lethal’s pain.

“Focus,” Lethal says, pointing at the new data.

I try.

Ghost shows up in the lab at the end of the day. Lethal and I are sitting close to each other, staring at the monitors. I realize that once again we are touching, the golden light only we can see like a safety blanket between us.

Lethal stands, and I already miss him. “Ghost,” he says.

“Lethal, Rogue.” He nods, then adds, “You two look terrible. Have you merged since… nevermind. I’m sure you’ll have the sense to figure it out.” We both look away. I am well aware that Lethal is burning, because so am I, but if I dealt with not merging for years, he can survive a few weeks.

Bonk you, he says.

You wish.

“So, found anything?” Ghost asks.

Lethal waves to the left, where a holo-chart shows a 3D rendition of human plasma cells, which produce antibodies. He says, “We figured out how skills develop—”

Ghost jumps to his feet. “Could you imprint skills at will?”

Lethal and I shake our heads.

I say, “It’s similar to V(D)J recombination, the process that allows humans to have an endless array of antibodies to fight any possible disease.”

“Okay?”

Lethal adds, “Except that skill recombination happens in the brain. At birth, each Cursoi has the potential of developing one of many skills. The skill is selected at puberty.”

“How?” Ghost asks, tilting his head and squinting.

“The recombination happens in cells we named pro-neurons.” I say, “When kids use them, they activate like normal neurons, but the effects are minimal, because there is only one pro-neuron per skill type. We found a huge number of them in the brainscans of Cursoi toddlers, but none after puberty.”

“They die?” Ghost asks.

I nod. “Except the one type that is selected. If one kid engages in an activity he or she enjoys, like healing for me, their dopamine level goes up. The pro-neuron’s activation in concomitance with the spike in dopamine and the peak of sex hormones characteristic of puberty causes that specific pro-neuron to replicate, very much like memory cells in the immune system. These new, all identical neurons colonize a big chunk of the temporal lobe in the brain cortex and make the skill possible.”

Ghost is trying very hard not to stare at Lethal, but his thoughts are obvious. How the Merc did Lethal enjoy crushing internal organs as a kid? Most Cursoi skills are not strictly weapon-like, hence Lethal’s nickname. Most are fun and can be used in a strategical way, like Browser’s or Kino’s, or Emo’s.

Ghost says, “When your master died… it was no accident. Was it?” His face is very white.

Lethal says nothing, and I feel all the guilt and the triumph that still wrestle in his heart at the memory, but mostly the pain, the humiliation.

Ghost continues, “Did he hurt you?”

Lethal stands up abruptly. “The report is over, Sir.” He adds in my head, Time to get drunk, Dumb, and I can’t shake the feeling he’s on a mission to do something really stupid tonight.