#i’m a trademarked disaster

[risestarkiss]

✨The Fashionista✨

Rise Ramblings #234

While watching “The Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle,” I noticed something.

I found it interesting that Raph, Mikey, and Leo were content with Raph’s outfit choice until Donnie stated that he wasn’t “in love with it, ya’ know.”

Suddenly, Raph declares “I’m a disaster!” Albeit ridiculously endearing, it was a little strange to see his sudden shift from moderately content to absolute dissatisfaction. Huh…

Then, the disaster twins decide to help him out.

Take a note of their outfit choices.

Raph tries on all of these fits and more.

Donnie’s first choice is a mild “no.” Leo’s choice is a hard “NO.” (Not surprising, lol.) But then, the overwhelming consensus lands on Raph’s fourth outfit, which ended up being Donatello’s other pick for his brother.

So, in summary, Raph tried on his personal choice for an outfit, of which they rejected. Then, ultimately, Donatello picked out an outfit for his brother, and that pick ended up being perfect. Hmm…

Then I noticed something else. In this episode, we never get a Donnie “curtain reveal” moment, to our disdain. I mean, Raph, Leo, and Mikey got to try on several different outfits in order to get their brothers' opinions before landing on that “perfect outfit, you know the one.” All of his brothers got to shine. Why not DonTron?

Then it hit me.

The try-ons were to get their brothers' opinions and approval. And, for his brothers' choices, he was a major contributor in assisting them in pulling their looks together.

What if, bear with me, Donnie didn’t need the "curtain scene" because he was so confident in his fashion sense that he didn’t need to ask his brothers for help to pick out a great look.

…or they figured out how to break Hypno’s spell before he could get a “curtain reveal.” BUT STILL-

Look at his outfit choices in this episode. Some of his wardrobe changes were off-screen, but all of them were fire.

(I added the baseball cap pic because it makes me happy. I wish we'd seen more of that fit.)

To me, he makes some really smart choices for himself, pushing the envelope of what is expected and taking chances: an open collar with no tie for a “black tie” event, a beanie and spiked wristbands for their “gansta look,” no socks with loafers (a viral fashion trend that actually began in Africa) with old man slacks in his reclined pose. *muah* Chef’s kiss!

But Don’s fashion sense doesn’t just shine in this episode.

In “Reparin’ the Baron” the boys go to Draxum’s apartment. Leo and Donnie show up in some extra nice “Sunday Dinner” twin drip.

The gold is in the details. Everything Leo is wearing, Donnie rocks its compliment: for Leo’s round collar, Donnie’s is angled, for Leo’s blue shirt, Donnie’s is white, For Leo’s light slacks, Donnie’s are dark. Blah blah blah. It’s so good!

Look at the winter fit in Snow Day.

Again, Donnie is Leo’s perfect compliment. As a pair? Fire.

Donnie has “the eye.” I can go on and on with examples, but I’ve said all of that to say this…

In the future, we see that Donatello’s technology had major pull in the resistance. He had drone ships patrolling the skies. He built and designed Leo’s arm, Casey’s chainsaw-hockey stick, and Casey's mask. The list goes on…

But, when Donatello from the past see’s Casey’s clothing from the future, he says this:

We know about the “Genius Built” brand. We’ve seen that logo on all of his tech up to this point. But, here he didn’t just say “Genius Built.” He said, “Genius Built Apparel.”

“Apparel” is not a tech brand. “Apparel” is a fashion brand. Of course, tech is incorporated into the clothing, but still.

This means that past Donatello secured this trademark with plans of creating a fashion brand, comparable to the likes of Gucci, Ralph Lauren, or any other modern clothing brand, as a subsidiary of “Genius Built,” the tech company.

And why not? The evidence has been in front of us this entire time. He has a sharp eye for style, fashion, and trends. It is easily canon that he can sew. Splinter sewed their ninja garbs in “Insane in the Mama Train,” and there is a sewing machine in the house.

They already learned Ninjutsu through basically osmosis, so learning to sew is not too far-fetched.

And here it is, right in front of us, Casey’s entire ensemble, from mask, to weapons, to clothing, was made by Donatello in the middle of the apocalypse under the brand name “Genius Built Apparel.”

And that was just in the bad future. Resources were limited, they didn’t have access to much of anything in that broken world as they were survivors of a devastating Krang invasion. Yet, he created all of this.

However, now that they’ve changed the future, his future as a fashion designer is limitless. Think of what Donatello could produce with unlimited resources, unlimited technology, and unlimited creative freedom.

Tech genius. Clothing designer. Fashionista. Future Genius Built Apparel Owner and CEO. I’m sorry, but I have to call it...

Donatello Hamato of the present, of the bad future, and of the good future is a fashion icon, the likes of which the world has never seen. ○○○○

Update: I've decided to make this concept into a mini-comic series!

[devildomwriter]

They Listen to You Play the Piano | Lucifer x Reader

Lucifer was anxiously filling out paperwork at his study desk as he did every night. The mountain of pavers very slowly decreased, and his hand began to cramp from so much writing.

He sighed and stretched, deciding he should get another coffee lest he fall asleep at his desk again. Honestly, Diavolo worked him a little too hard at times, but he’d never admit that to the demon lord. He’d be far too embarrassed to admit he couldn’t do everything as he saw proudly proclaimed. However, he didn’t know any demon that could do a thousand and five reports in a single night while keeping their six demon brothers and chaotic human under control.

He sighed as he left his room, and as he walked down the hall towards the kitchen, he thought he heard a few keys being played on the piano.

“Ode to Joy?” He thought out loud, recognizing the simple piano piece.

He followed the sound of the piano to the music room and stood just out of sight as he saw you looking rather aggravated, staring at your D.D.D. screen and cursing your hands for not moving correctly.

He listened to you practice as you continuously hit the wrong key until you banged your head onto the piano keys, and he decided he couldn’t let this go on.

He walked up behind you quietly and saw a piano learning app pulled up on the D.D.D.

“___?” He asked, standing right behind you.

Your head shot up from the piano, and you stared at him in embarrassed shock.

“What the? Please tell me you didn’t hear that disaster….” You mumbled, red in the face.

He chuckled and nodded, patting your shoulder to comfort you as you hid your face in your hands.

“My pinky won’t move without the other fingers! It’s so easy to play with one finger, but I can’t use my entire hand?” You complained, and he laughed and gestured for you to move aside.

He sat on the bench next to you and moved your fingers to the correct keys.

“Like this.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” you sighed.

“Well, you aren’t doing it right,” he corrected.

“Yeah, I figured that the eighth time I screwed it up. How did Beethoven compose music as a child?”

“Practice. He practiced day and night just like you’re going to do.”

“What? I am?”

He nodded, “yes. I’ll be your teacher. You’ll be playing masterpieces in no time.”

“You have too much faith in me,” you mumbled, not sure if you should be excited about lessons or scared.

“No, you just have too little faith in yourself,” he scolded, and he put your hand back over the proper keys.

“We’re going to practice using your pinky by itself until your other fingers get used to it,” he instructed.

“Don’t you have paperwork,” you tried distracting him.

“It can wait. This is far more important,” he dismissed.

“What? No, it’s not,” you insisted, but he gave you his trademark smirk, confusing you.

“I’m the only one in this house who plays piano; you wanted to impress me, didn’t you?”

“Not everything is about you,” you blushed because he was right.

“Nonsense, of course it is. Now let’s begin.”

Thus began the first of many nights sat closely by Lucifer’s side as your hands moved together, filling the house with beautiful music.

[kissingghouls]

SOFT PROMPTS ok ok...how about "you're shivering. here, take my jacket" with Mary x Reader ORRrrrr Secondo x Reader?? I can't decide

beloved anon. you were so right about this 💖✨

Winter Chill - Mary Goore x Reader

no warnings, relatively fluffy, kinda soft Mary, he/they Mary, first kiss, 2300 words

-x-

“He’s a dick,” a familiar voice states behind you. It’s followed by the tell-tale sound of spit hitting the pavement.

You’re not exactly surprised to find the silhouette of Mary Goore appearing like a ghostly apparition in the dim light of the porch. It was in their nature to just show up like that—especially when there was something to be said about your ex—but you were surprised by the lack of singsong taunting in their tone. Mary didn’t usually hold back when it came to voicing their distaste for him.

It’s obvious from their presence that they’d seen the confrontation inside—a fact that makes you feel slightly embarrassed as he shuffles around in the dark. The rotting wood of the aptly named Chaos House creaks under his boots, the thick soles landing with a thunk! thunk! thunk! as he stomps down a few steps and drops next to you. They shoot you a crooked, toothy smile and gently nudge you with an elbow.  “But you knew that already.”

“You’re a little late for an ‘I told you so,’ Goore,” you warn with a sigh. The breakup between you and that asshole was well beyond old news. There was next to no way Mary hadn’t heard and probably celebrated by now. Gossip travels fast in small towns, even faster in small social circles like yours.

“Aw c’mon,” he groans, arching his back to stretch his long legs like a cat. He pats down the pockets of his tight jeans and produces a pack of smokes and an old lighter. With a cigarette tucked between his teeth, he draws his knees back up before turning to you. “I’m not here for that.”

“Why are you here, Mary?” you ask softly.

Inside, the party swells with sound. A cluster of people all shouting to be heard while a metal band starts their set in the basement. It’s a mix of rumbling bass and the crack of drums with the occasional scream. The noise is just as normal as the hint of stale beer and body odor that permeates the old house. It’s as natural as the stains and cigarette burns on the weirdly orange tinted carpet that covers the stairs. Neither of you bat an eye as cymbals crash under your feet.

Mary flicks the lighter over their thigh, sparking it to life and drawing the flame toward their lips. They breathe deep, inhaling the toxic burn before leaning back on their elbows and letting out a puff of smoke. “To offer you a ride home.”

Your eyebrows knit together as you turn to the metalhead sprawled on the porch next to you. Pale, bony knees jut out from the holes in his jeans. The trademark leather jacket covered in bright patches and studs hangs loose around his skinny frame as he reclines against the steps. Underneath their battle jacket the faded, well-loved t-shirt older than either of you is barely held together by more than a few threads. A shock of dark hair styled haphazardly hangs over those pretty green eyes that hadn’t moved from your face since he sat down.

It was a well-known fact that Mary couldn’t be trusted to operate a vehicle. Every time they’d tried had ended in varying degrees of disaster—one of which included a cliff.

“You can’t drive,” you remind him through a laugh.

“No, but I got you to smile.” He sounds triumphant, proud almost. “You got a good one, you know?”

“What?”

“Your smile. It’s…I dunno.” He shrugs and waves his hand through the air. “It’s…nice.”

“Goore,” you level. “Are you drunk?”

They shake their head and take a long drag. The orange glow of the embers hits just right, illuminating the places on his face painted white. The shadows are darker, the blurry edges of makeup smeared into the hollow of his cheeks look more intense in the dark like this. It’s a look you’ve appreciated once or twice before at other house parties or in the dim light of the local dive bar while you pretend not to notice how they only charge you for every other drink they slide your way.

Your heart skips as he grins up at you, dried fake blood cracking on his face.

“I’m sober as a judge, sweetheart,” they tell you as they sit up, a well-practiced smirk playing on their lips.

There’s a tightness in your chest again, a feeling so familiar around Mary. While this thing between you started a long time ago, you never took it too seriously. After all, you couldn’t take Mary seriously half the time. So, the teasing and light flirting never really meant anything and that was how the two of you had operated for as long as you could remember. It never went further than that because neither of you ever seemed to be single at the same time.

But that didn’t mean you hadn’t found yourself a little curious from time to time.

The rumor mill spun both ways when it came to Mary Goore. Some days the story was they were some delinquent hellbent on burning the entire town to the ground. Other days there were tales of kindness that extended as far as feeding the feral street cats that lived in the alley behind their apartment. He was a loyal friend to the point of violence on more than one occasion, but everyone who dated them considered them a caring partner despite their apparent fear of commitment.

In your estimation, Mary was no different than anyone else—not all good or all bad, just another human trying to get by. When it came down to it, you’d rather have Mary in your corner than not. The fact that they were out here with you now, well, that just meant they already were.

“As a judge, huh?” you ask and lean forward to pluck the burning cigarette from his fingers. His eyes follow your movements as you set the filter between your lips and take an easy drag before offering the thing right back to him.

“Careful darlin’,” he warns, fingers brushing yours as he accepts. “These things are worse for you than I am.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

They raise an eyebrow, half-expecting you to follow up with a “just kidding” or a “not like that.” When you don’t their composure slips, and they struggle to hide a look of surprise mixed with a little bit of excitement. It’s fleeting, but it’s there, soft as the stubble poking through his makeup.

Those green eyes sparkle in the moonlight, watching as you stand and stretch your arms over your head. The wind picks up, carrying the undercurrent of much colder weather slowly moving in. It should be snowing by now, but the air is just a mist of wet fog soaking into everything without the beauty or smell of rain. The lawn is soft under your feet, little more than an oversaturated lump of clover and weeds that fails to connect the muddy patches from one end of the yard to the other. It’s all still as green as Mary’s eyes somehow, still thriving and you’re standing outside in a t-shirt next to Mary Goore in December.

The end of the cigarette whips past you and lands in a shower of orange sparks near the driveway. Mary leans up, the last little bit of smoke curling from their lips as the hole in the left knee of their jeans rips loudly.

“Aw, fuck,” Mary whines helplessly, leg now exposed halfway to the calf.

“C’mon,” you offer with a soft smile and hold your hand out to a guy who might or might not be trouble.

“Where are we going?” they ask, wiping their hands on their jeans as they stand.

“No idea,” you admit with a shrug. “Somewhere else.”

“Alright then,” Mary agrees with a grin and takes your hand.

You make it to the end of the block before you realize neither of you have let go. Their hand is warm and much larger than yours, their palm an odd mix of soft in places and calloused in others. For every step he takes, you take two to keep up though there’s no real destination in sight. Maybe you should have thought it through a little better, but being around Mary always made your brain a little fuzzy. And maybe that was why you’d avoided situations like this before—because the fear of something was too great. The risk of Mary was like jumping into a body of water completely blind. Dangerous. Unpredictable. Thrilling. Incredible.

The two of you walk east toward the river, passing patrons on the main drag crawling from one bar to another. A few toss looks your way, judgements whispered under their breath as they hurry by. If Mary notices, they hide it well. Their shoulders never seem to sag with the weight of what everyone else thinks you and him should be.

At the crosswalk you wait to pass and he rather impressively digs out another cigarette, lighting it one-handed. You’re unsure of how many cars pass under the stoplight or how many times the two of you miss your chance to cross, but you’re acutely aware of the way Mary looks wrapped in a haze of smoke and the city lights.

It’s not bad.

“Do I have something on my face?” they ask with an eyebrow raised, using the hand holding yours to pull you closer.

“Yeah, actually,” you respond playfully.

He frowns and pretends to swipe at his face. “Better?”

“Eh, your face is still there,” you tease with a shrug.

He tugs you even closer. “Don’t act like you don’t like my face, sweetheart.”

“It’s ok. I guess.”

“Just ok?”

It’s a question you barely hear. It’s not the rush of traffic or the random people walking past, but your heart hammering away in your ears that nearly deafens you. Warmth radiates off Mary like he’s the fucking sun. You know because he’s so close, close enough that you catch a hint of cologne under the nicotine and leather. And god those eyes, with them fixed on you like this you spot the soft flecks of gold they hide from everyone else.

You nod carefully. “It’s a good face. Ten out of ten. Would look again.”

He breaks first, averting his eyes as he struggles not to laugh. “I guess I better stick around so you can keep looking.”

“I appreciate the effort, Goore.”

“Anything for you, darlin’.”

You shake your head and let the moment fade as you pull them across the street.

Mary leads now, their other hand placed carefully at your hip as they guide you down the wet stairs. It’s dead quiet by the water. There’s never much of a crowd on the riverfront but this time of night it’s completely deserted. Traffic roars across the bridge overhead, a stream of bright red brake lights stretching across the river. You feel like you’re in another world entirely, tucked against Mary Goore of all people. You stand still, watching the gentle current roll over the rocky shore and pretend not to notice the way he moves closer and closer.

Winter arrives and surrounds the two of you within seconds as the wind picks up again. A blast of frigid, arctic air that smells like snow bites at the exposed skin of your arms. It’s cliche but as tears sting your eyes, you can’t help the chill that seeps into your bones.

“Huh. I think it’s gonna snow.”

Mary’s voice is uncharacteristically soft, barely more than a whisper. It’s a sharp contrast to all those times you’d seen them growl their way through songs about blood and corpses, but it makes the butterflies stir in your stomach all the same. Maybe there was something behind all those free drinks and flirty words. Something different.

The thought sends a shock through your body, the electric hum of realization. You like Mary.

He shifts slightly, turning his body toward yours. “Shit, you’re shivering. Here, take my jacket.”

Before you can say anything, they’ve shrugged out of the thing and wrapped you in soft, worn leather. You hide your hands in the sleeves, but they itch to reach out, to pull him in. The lining is still warm and it’s heavier than you expect, but none of it matters as Mary’s gaze falls to your lips.

But they don’t kiss you. At least, not in the way you thought they might.

“Goore?” you ask as they pull away slightly.

“Uh-huh?”

“Did…did you just…kiss my forehead?”

“Yep.”

“Instead of like…actually kissing me. You kissed my forehead?”

“Well, I don’t know what kind of person you think I am, but I’m not just gonna put out for you because you expect me to.”

“Oh my god,” you huff with an annoyed roll of your eyes. “You—hmph!”

Mary cuts off your complaints by grabbing the lapels of the jacket and smashing his lips against yours. Your arms loop around their neck, pulling them as close as you can. There’s a warm hand pressed to the small of your back, under the jacket and under your t-shirt. Mary’s other hand tangles in your hair as they break the kiss to speak.

“Sorry darlin’,” they whisper. “You’re just so fuckin’ cute when you’re annoyed. I can’t help it.”

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me, Goore.”

It’s rough and brash when his mouth claims yours, and you think Mary kisses like he plays guitar—aggressive with a practiced ease. He nips at your bottom lip, practically melting against you when you let out a little whine in response. His tongue brushes yours and he tastes of smoke and something sugary you can’t quite place. It doesn’t matter anyway because your senses are filled with all things Mary and you’re content to keep them that way.

“Mm, I always knew you’d be trouble, sweetheart,” they groan as you press your body against theirs.

“Aw Goore, do you have a crush on me?”

“Yeah, actually. For so fucking long,” he admits freely.

You grin and lean up to kiss him again as tiny snowflakes begin to collect in his hair.

[anlian-aishang]

For the practice drabble thingie, Sweat/Scent kink? 👁️ 👁️

I just. k n o w. I have this headcanon that Levi always uses baby/scented powder to avoid sweating so much on expeditions/missions, but maybe one day he just runs out of it or rushes out of his room, so Levi gets flustered or self-conscious for the rest of the day or smth, idk I don’t think he would smell **that much**, but… still, he smells pretty masculine, yknow?👁️👁️

Tags: levi x reader [mutual pining], sfw [but fetish-based material], sweat & scent stuff, canonverse, gn!reader Word count: 2700 A/N: Holy hell, thank you, this is exactly what I wanted. nsfw sequel is in the works <3

It was his fucking day off. 

Levi was the most cautious when it came to anticipation. Sights no one should have to see had scarred him to the point of learning: if you never got your hopes up, nothing could let you down. That thought rained on most of his parades, but he supposed there was little letdown to be had when it came to the likewise little things. On returns from expeditions, he allowed himself to look forward to the removal of his heavy gear and tight belts. When the smell of fresh-baked bread wafted through the barracks, he let his tongue salivate and his stomach sing. Today would have been his first day off in - he couldn’t even remember - god knows how long. Last night, his stagnant stoicism seemed to float away, head in clouded daydream of how to make this day perfect.

But some days weren’t meant to be perfect.

Instead of birds chirping and the first rays of sunlight that Levi anticipated, it was a series of harsh knocks at the hour of indigo sky that woke him up. Levi startled out of sleep, snapping up with a breathless gasp.  

In hindsight, maybe he should’ve said nothing, maybe then they would’ve left him alone. However, being woken suddenly, though a common occurrence, almost always meant disaster in the Scouts. His voice cracked a barely audible “W’What?” No response. Levi coughed and cleared his throat, the return of his scathing tone, “What?”

The knob swiveled. His door creaked. In the shadows of dawn stood a domineering, a commanding, six-foot figure. The leisurely pace with which he entered the room conveyed that there was no life-or-death emergency, and thus no good reason, for having barged in here on his day off. Levi rolled his eyes and scowled, “I didn’t say ‘come in.’”

Erwin ignored his remark and instead cut to the chase. “Supply transports were raided in Trost.”

His mind already set in vacation mode, it was remarkable how quickly his knowledge of the restock had left him, “What?”

“Tug-of-war with the Garrisons and MPs, scouring over the leftover scraps of the materials that were supposed to be.”

“The hell do the MPs need anything for?”

“I’m headed to the capital to find out.”

Too tired to think - let alone attempt - to disguise his confusion. Levi’s brows arced, lips parted as he tried to piece together what the hell this had to do with him. When it dawned, his trademark pout revived. 

“...No.”

“So you’ll take my stand, running morning drills in -” Erwin checked his pocket watch - “twenty minutes.”

“I’m off today.” Levi refuted. “Get Miche or Hange to do it.”

“They’re coming with me.” Erwin’s eyes were dead set, nearly offended, don’t you know I’ve thought of this already? “Unless, of course, you want to make the trip.”

To yak with the higher-ups? He would sooner crawl through mud.

Though he was given a choice, he took pity at his situation: “Bullshit…” Levi cursed beneath his breath, his version of whining.

Impatient, Erwin tapped his foot, “Are you going to get up or would you like to sit here and talk about our feelings?” The commander’s voice was starkly monotone, despite the sarcasm dripping in his statement.

Levi could play that card, too. “Are you going to leave or are you just here to watch my bare ass roll out of bed?”

Right. Erwin turned on his heel, door slammed in his wake. 

His impulse was to throw his head back on his pillow and an arm over his face, but twenty minutes - he didn’t even have the time for that. Levi bunched his sheets in his hands, so angry that his fists trembled, and swiveled his legs over the edge of his bed. A pang of nausea and a sharp headache, his body was pissed at him for the violent disruption of his sleep cycle. Levi held his forehead in hand and shook, blame eyebrows, not me. 

Levi’s limbs felt heavy, like he had just come indoors from a rainstorm. Clouds of colorful swears and harsh grunts propelled him through his morning routine. A three-minute shower, trimming his bangs, toothpaste and mouthwash followed by tea. One of many identical uniforms was laid out on his dresser, but before that…

From head to toe - undercut nape, under the arms, the shelf of his pecs, between his thighs, and finally his feet - Levi always applied a handful of drying agent. At this time of year, headquarters could seriously reek, and Levi refused to contribute to that filth. Pressing his lips together and stifling a yawn, he turned the container upside down. Lips parted, though, when nothing fell out. 

Shake. Shake shake.

A blockage, a clump, maybe? But there was no sound. The slightest of twitches in his fingers as Levi delicately, anxiously, twisted off the cap and peered inside. 

That’s right. He had made a mental note yesterday, that part of his day off would be dedicated to visiting the market, buying tea leaves, some new briefs, and his astringent powder - all items he was too mortified to order through the Corps. Given the thieving that had just happened, it was not like those supplies would’ve arrived anyway, but now, he would not have the freedom to go out and get them. 

With the jar completely open, he considered a few shakes in vain, but the bottle was so empty that he could see the reflection of his dark-circled eyes in the bottom of it. Levi allowed himself a heavy, exasperated sigh as he set the empty vessel back on his bathroom countertop just to loudly smack it into the trash can. Fucking shit. 

At least he had showered, but peering out the window and onto the training grounds, he could already see waves of heat radiating off the pavement. Come noon, it would be far worse. Clock ticking, for now, his only solution was to cut down on layers. It was then that he realized how little leniency the uniform lent. Gritting his teeth, Levi reluctantly left his top drawer shut, forgoing his undershirt and underwear. Walking past his mirror, his reflection caught his own eyes: his ivory skin barely yet noticeably peeking through the buttons of his grey shirt. Goddammit, he ripped the brown, canvas coat off its hanger and crossed it tight across his chest. To the harmony of his soles on wooden floor, his inner voice melodized: Could an outfit be both breathable and modest?

Levi could not bring himself to abandon his cravat, so instead of tying it beneath his collar, he let it sling out his back pocket, at the ready to grasp for when he needed to wipe his sweat away. That moment was inevitable, but he preferred not to think about it. He ran his fingers through his hair, base of his hand lingered on his widow’s peak, grinding pressure away like a mortar and pestle. Whatever, he tried to assure himself, as long as no one was around… 

At first, he thought he might manage. If they got close enough, they would surely notice the glimmer shining upon his skin. However, by terse orders and points of his fingers, he had maintained a perpetual distance from the hoard of trainees. He was more of a hands-on kind of teacher, opting to join them as they ran laps or learned to grapple through trees. Today, though, he was standing in the shade several yards from the action. If anyone gave him shit for lazying aside, he had an excuse in that he wasn’t even supposed to be on-call today anyways. However, perhaps because he looked particularly irritable and scary, no one dared question his bystanding.

Then came you.

“Levi?”

It was the first time you had ever seen startle on the captain. A simultaneous, steep flinch in each of his shoulders. Hairs stood on end, he whipped his gaze around, “What? What’re you doing here?”

The sight of panic on someone so fearless, it caused you to fret by proxy. “I - I uh…” You had never second-guessed him before, you had never had to. “I’m covering for -”

“Erwin?” 

You knit your hands behind your back, a sheepish grin, “He said you’d need help. You know, given the heat…”

Levi crossed his arms and bit the inside of his cheek. How shitty could that oaf be? The truth was that this heat was getting to everyone, yet in his fluster, Levi was sure that not only Erwin knew about his secret susceptibility, but that he had spilled it to the last person Levi wanted to know. No words seemed adequate for response, so instead, he kicked his foot against the barrack wall, leaned back, and deferred to silence.  

Something was off, your eyes darted in search for it. His cheeks had been tainted a light red. Luckily, you chalked it up to the temperature, though Levi knew that was not the sole factor. His hair was slicker than its usual light-and-airy allure, you figured he had just gotten out of the shower. That was true, but this damp was sweat, not soap. Your gaze started to descend down his body, and on the way, you noticed it: no cravat. 

A dog without a collar. A missing puzzle piece. Mildly irksome yet disproportionately intriguing. It was like he had read your mind, the mocking timing with which he reached back into his pocket and lifted the cloth to his forehead, sighing and swiping. After a couple wringing flicks of his wrist, he folded it and shoved it inside the lining of his tan jacket. His left hand tucked it away, hidden, while his right hand lifted the coat away from his chest, granting him the space to do so. Again, his own state snagged his attention - the dark, drenched patch of fabric at his underarm jumped out like a bug on a wall. Fiercely, he snatched his jacket shut again, praying to whatever was out there that you had not seen. 

And though you had not seen the soak of his shirt, his odd behavior was garnering more and more of your attention. Cruelly, that made him sweat even more: not only the sun’s rays, but the blaze of your stare burning onto his skin. He cursed the thickness of his leather boots, the ODM gear that strapped his clothing tight to his skin, the turn of events that had brought you to this moment, his stupid genetics, and his even stupider feelings for you. Thoughts spiraling, humidity could mess with him in ways that titans could not.

If you thought hard about it, you may have realized that his humidity induced the same haze in you. Bangs glued to his forehead. Chest rose high and fell deep - combined with his light panting - made your brain boggle. Now and then, a clear bead of sweat would fall from his temple, down his jawline and neck, before disappearing down his collar - where you noticed that his top button was uncharacteristically undone. 

The loud pop! as he uncorked his canteen broke both of your thirsts. Head tilted far back, Adam’s apple deliciously bobbed as he gulped down his water. Lips absentmindedly fallen, your eyes drank as he did. 

Levi recognized, pretending that he hadn’t noticed your stare had thus far failed to shake it. He scoffed internally: someone could use some self-awareness, he was literally dripping with it. With a straight-on side-eye, he maintained eye contact as he gradually lowered the canteen from his lips, only to thrash it and splash it upwards into his own face. Still, you gaped like an idiot. Finally, Levi decided: if you were going to be this indulgent, he would be, too. Maybe then, you’d realize. Levi thumbed a leaking drop from the corner of his mouth. After briefly sucking the digit dry, his tongue snuck between his lips to slowly lick them clean. 

Stone-cold steel eyes and his soft pink tongue - that was what it took to break your concentration. Immediately, you snapped your gaze down to your toes and silently mouthed sorry. 

Despite the heat, shivers somehow managed to seize his figure. With your gaze averted, you thankfully missed them. However, when you no longer had your sight to rely on, other senses instinctively took over. Particularly, scent: aged sandalwood, burnt charcoal, bitter tea. On the training grounds, these smells did not come naturally. And if it were anyone else, you may have cringed at the combination of scents, but upon realization of the one and only source of this musk, you felt your middle warm with inexplicable satisfaction. 

Meanwhile, he was squirming: fuck, how badly he wanted to hit the showers. If Erwin had left this assignment to him, he had every right to leave it to the next person. The thing was, that next person was you, the blinking, doe-eyed, fresh promotion who hardly knew their blades from their gas. If you were anyone else, he could see himself saying: take this cash, head to the square and stop at this stand, buy the tallest bottle they have and bring it back to me. Say a word, you’re dead. 

But you were the entire reason he strove to keep this secret under wraps. To give you such orders would essentially be a confession, erasing the whole point. Between a rock and a hard place, Levi stood frozen in fever. 

The air was thick with moisture and silence. With each breath, the memory of that canteen escapade and his intensifying aura seemed to suffocate you. Internally, he was simmering over how to shoo you away from his disgusting sorry state. On the other hand, you were parsing over how to excuse yourself without being rude. 

The 10:00 bell rang, you used it to craft a feigned excuse, “If you’ve got things under control -”

“I do.” In some ways, he did. In others, absolutely not. 

“- I’m supposed to help mess out with lunch.”

Levi knit his brows, seemed unlikely, but he would not object. With a slight flick of his head, his gesture released you from post and encouraged you inside.

At the door frame and with his back turned, you could not help but take one last look. At his last end and assuming you had departed already, he finally shouldered that Scouts jacket off, revealing his light-grey button up having turned dark with his sweat. His fist clutched his collar and fanned ferociously, allowing his skin to breathe. Inaudible to the other, you both simultaneously reprieved, “Fuck me…”

At 11 on the dot, Levi and the platoon of morning athletes were in the cafeteria line. So what if it meant they called it quits prematurely? Inside, no one was complaining. Levi was relieved that he did not find you there, hopeful that you were in your room avoiding heat stroke, and oddly satisfied to have correctly suspected your “cafeteria-duties” bluff earlier. 

Levi looked like he had been rained on then dunk-tanked. At least, that was how his squad put it, jeering and elbowing, “What happened to you out there?”

They didn’t want to know. He didn’t want them to know. Most of all, he would rather forget this day ever happened. He took his steel tray and made for his room to eat in private - but more importantly, to shower again.  

The venture back to his quarters seemed to drag - maybe it was because the dampness of his clothes had weighed him down, or maybe it was because the empty, lone quiet of the halls allowed his consciousness to echo loud and clear: humiliating, huh? 

He could not deny that it was fucking humiliating, but for as scathing as the memory of that embarrassment was, the recollection of your rose-colored stare was just as impactful. All along, he had feared that if you witnessed his weakness to heat - more so the sweat and stench that came with it, it would have sent you running the other direction. Self-doubt suggested: they did end up running, though. That mess-hall excuse, them being them, they were probably trying not to offend you as they took cover from your reek. Self-confidence objected, but remember the way they looked at you? Don’t play dumb. You know that look anywhere. They like you - and hell - maybe they liked it.

On his doormat, a tall white bottle and a handwritten note confirmed the latter.

Seemed like you were missing something… …not that I think you need it. - (Y/N)

// masterlist //

[w4ndering-th0ught]

sweat. 647 words. @jegulus-microfic.

Joint quidditch practices were Madam Hooch’s idea. Something about trying to quell inter-house animosity- blah blah blah.

In Regulus’ opinion the only thing useful about the joint practices is that they get to see first hand what a disaster the Gryffindor team is.

Like right now, Frank Longbottom and Marlene McKinnon are in a shouting match over which drill the group should work on next.

“No- NO! We can’t give them our best drills, Marlene, they’ll-”

“Oh for fucks sake, we have practice with them for the rest of term, what are we going to do? Never train to our full potential?!”

The Slytherin captain, Dorcas Meadowes, is watching the exchange with her trademark sharpness. She throws a look over at Regulus and cocks and eyebrow. He can practically hear her voice in his head, all brawn no brains, this lot.

He laughs at her and turns away, catching sight of James Potter. Staring at him.

Dorcas claps her hands together twice. “Alright, we’re going to move on to some partner work while those two finish their little spat.” She gestures with two lazy fingers over at Frank and Marlene and starts to draw a line in the mud with the heel of her boot. Marlene looks like she’s swallowed a pygmy puff.

“I call this one push-over.” Dorcas says as she finishes her line. She flicks another finger at Marlene. “You’re with me since you’re finished over there.”

Marlene splutters but stomps over all the same.

“Slytherins will be on this side of the line, Gryffindors on the other.” Dorcas indicates the line in the mud separating her and Marlene. “Knees bent, hinge slightly at the waist, and link your shoulders.” Dorcas gestures for Marlene to follow her lead and they end up with Dorcas’ left shoulder pressed to Marlene’s right, their cheeks practically smushed together. “The goal is to get to your opponent's side of the line.”

That’s all the warning Dorcas gives before she is barrelling into Marlene full force, the Gryffindor staggering back three paces. Dorcas catches her round the middle before she can go sprawling in the mud.

She keeps her hand in the curve of Marlene’s waist and turns to address the rest of the two teams. “Just like that. Go ahead and pair off. I’ll count you down.”

Marlene has gone bright red.

Regulus turns to see which Gryffindor he can goad into going against him and finds James Potter already waiting on the other side of the line. He doesn’t say anything, just bends over slightly and offers his shoulder to Regulus the way a knight might offer a lady his sword. Chivalrous. Condescending.

Regulus tries his best to scowl and hinges forward, slotting his shoulder in place against James’. He’s hot from their warm up, Regulus can feel his breath tickling at his neck.

“3, 2, 1-”

Neither of them hesitate, they’re pressing and shoving and heaving at each other. James is growling, the feeling of it vibrating through his chest and transferring to Regulus’ clavicle.

And Regulus is not going to win this. James is a chaser, broad and tall and fucking strong. Regulus is a seeker, he’s quick but he can’t-

James’ foot slips in the mud and he goes down, snagging Regulus’ kit so they land in a heap, Regulus directly on top of him.

James is gasping, heaving in the air Regulus unceremoniously squished out of him. Regulus is trying to catch his breath as well, very conscious of the fact that they’re only inches away.

“Thought you had that, did you?” Regulus says.

Sweat drips down James’ forehead and snags in the tail end of his eyebrow. “I’m right where I want to be, sweetheart.” James reaches his head forward and brushes their noses together. It’s a tiny touch, a fragment of a moment, and then James is dumping Regulus into the mud.

[yacinthemorning]

A Lesson in Listening

Summary: Grian's brother is moving to town and staying with him while he house hunts. While introducing him to his friend, however, Jimmy and Tango seem to make quite a connection. Determined not to suffer through the pining, Grian and Impulse attempt to play matchmaker.

Ships: Grian & Impulse(Platonic), Jimmy/Tango (Romantic), ZITS (Platonic), Grian & Jimmy (Familial)

Warnings: mild acephobia, verbal fight, sibling bullying, misunderstandings, relationship meddling

If Grian was good at one thing, it was connecting people. Not to be a braggart, but he was a sociable sort who was good at reading people, made new friends with ease, and led the pecking order in his circles. It was his great talent, really. One of many.

“Humility not being among them, clearly.”

“Shush.” Grian hissed, whipping his head around to glare daggers into Impulse. The stout man returned it with his trademark innocent smile, as if Grian didn’t know what went on in the head behind it. “You’re distracting me.”

Impulse chuckled. “What’s there to distract from?”

“I’ll have you know mixing friend groups is a very delicate process!” Grian explained, holding his phone to show the opened notepad doc. “Inviting the wrong person could be the difference between success and disaster.”

“I think you’re overthinking things, G. Anyone who’d get along with you will probably get along with your brother.”

Therein lied the problem, though. Jimmy was nothing like Grian. Okay, well, nothing was a bit of a strong word. Jimmy was extroverted and sociable like Grian, and they both had a fondness for mischief and cats. And maybe Jimmy was the first person Grian always invited to karaoke night when he was in town, because no one else was quite as enthusiastic as they were. But other than that they were nothing alike! For one, unlike Grian, Jimmy was a massive loser.

“That’s a bit rude.”

Grian squawked. “Would you please stop reading my mind!”

“You should stop speaking your mind, then.” Impulse shrugged and returned to scrolling through his phone. Grian had assigned him the task of picking out the venue for the night out, being far more familiar with the town than Grian. He paused, “You might as well monologue, I know you want to.”

“I don’t monologue! I’m not Scar.” Another name was struck out on the list. Doc was angry at him right now, anyways. “I just want things to go well, can I not be excited that Tim is moving closer? I’ve barely got to see him more than once every other month for the past several years! By the way, we can’t-“

“Can’t eat red meat so make sure there’s other options, yeah, I know.” A large hand patted down on Grian’s head, ruffling his hair.

He pouted, falling back into the cushions of his couch. “I feel like you do not appreciate the skill needed to coordinate you people. It’s like herding cats, you know.”

“Why do you think we leave it to you?” Impulse leaned over Grian’s shoulder. “Who you got so far, anyways?”

“You, Scar, Gem, and Cleo. Mostly people he’s met before at least.”

A curious hum filled the air and Grian patiently waited for whatever idea was brewing in Impulse’s head. There were a few taps to his screen, then, “You think Tango can come?”

“Tango?” Grian’s eyebrow quirked up. “Isn’t he hauled up in his basement working on some game right now?” While most certainly a good friend, Tango was one Grian went almost just as long without seeing as his brother half a day’s drive away, despite being a street away. Once he had an idea he would dedicate himself to it until it was done.

Impulse sighed. “Yeah. Zed was able to get him outside for an hour last week, and he went on some business trip for a bit, but he also hasn’t eaten in like two days last I checked. It’d be good excuse to drag him out. He’s gonna forget what real people sound like outside his headphones if we don’t.”

“I honestly don’t know how he expects to survive if he moves out from you guys.”

“I already made him promise to give me a set of spare keys when he does.”

Grian tilted his head as he stared at his last message to the man in question. Something about a crazy idea for a remote-controlled cat toy he thought of. In all honesty it wasn’t the worst idea. Not the cat toy- Tango was a strong personality who left a big impression, but he was always polite. Certainly much more introverted than everyone else going, but not nearly as bad as Zed. At least, when he remembered to leave his basement. It couldn’t do them any harm. At the very worst he could sit in the corner and chatter with Impulse. “Yeah, sure, let’s invite him.” He said, already typing. 

Impulse gave a thumbs up. “Tell him we’re gonna go to that barbeque place he loves, that’ll get him.”

“I said-”

“They have plenty of chicken and even vegetarian options, I double checked. It’s right across from the bowling alley, too. And call him, don’t text, or he’ll never see it.”

It was a small miracle Tango agreed to go. It was a small miracle he answered his phone at all. The mention of barbeque worked, though. How much of the rest of the evening they could convince him to stick around for had yet to be seen, but Grian was hopeful he’d stay a little while at least.

Impulse could deal with Tango, though. Right now, Grian had his hands full with Jimmy. They were running ten minutes behind because his poor little brother couldn’t bear going a day without a bubble bath. “C’mon, Tim, get in the car!” He shouted from the window.

Jimmy stumbled in, nearly dropping his phone between the seats in the process. “I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying, I just had to send a text. I thought this was supposed to be fun?” He whined. The second his door was closed Grian began driving, not waiting for him to get his seatbelt in. He was so tall and lanky he’d just smash his head through the glass whether he had one on or not, anyways.

“It’s called punctuality, Timmy. Something the hosts should have!”

“Alright, I get it.” He slumped back into his seat, caving as he always did. It must be hard, having an older brother who was always right. Of course, it was much harder being said brother, as Grian could attest.

The car ride was quiet, only the radio filling the space while Grian worked to remember where he needed to go. Jimmy was the first to break the silence, “So, I’ve scheduled some tours for this week.”

Grian hummed. “Anything promising?”

“Actually yeah.” He chirped, pulling out his phone. Before he could shove it in Grian’s face he put his hand up. It’d only been a month since he rear-ended a Toyota, and he’ll be damned if he hit someone else. The last thing his friends needed was to reignite the jokes about him being too short to see over the dashboard. Jimmy made a whine but didn’t try again. “There’s a place not far out of town in the farmlands. It’s small and old, but it’s an actual house with over half an acre.”

“I dunno why you care so much about land. A condo downtown is way better.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it? I could have a garden.”

“I guess.” The obnoxiously large sign for the barbeque glared high above the trees and buildings around it just up ahead. “Oh, we’re already here. Should be mostly people you met before, by the way.”

“That’s fine.”

Pulling into the parking lot, Grian could already see Impulse’s minivan and Cleo’s beat up old car. He clicked his tongue as he pulled up next to them. “See! I told you we were late, everyone’s already here.”

“Oh, come off it, they probably just got here, it’s fine.”

It was not fine, the host should always be first, but he wouldn’t expect Jimmy to understand. The two squabbled all the way inside, only stopping to tell the waiter their booking. A nice large table on the patio already had most of Grian’s friends sitting around, still having yet to be served even drinks. Everyone but Tango despite his phone, unmistakable with its Guy Fieri case, on the table. Bathroom, maybe? He was always terrible about going before he left. Scar was the first to spot them. “G! Timmy! You’re here!”

“That we are.” Grian mumbled and turned to Impulse. “Where’s-”

“Hey, Grian, just in time!” The scratchy voice of Tango shouted too-loudly behind them. He saw Jimmy jump, and both brothers swivelled on their heels. Tango jolted back a bit, friendly wave shrinking to his side at the reaction. His eyes grew wide, locking with Jimmy’s which mirrored him like two deer caught in headlights. “Oh!” He squeaked unintentionally.

It jogged Jimmy out of his fright enough to look away, though Grian took suspicious note of the redness of his ears. He gave his baby brother a raised eyebrow, but he didn’t seem to see it.

“Right, well, Tango, Cleo, this is my brother, Ti-”

“It’s Jimmy.” Jimmy jumped in at lightning speed, holding his hand out for Tango to shake with a wide smile. “The name’s Jimmy.” Tango hesitated for a second, before tentatively shaking back with an equally tentative smile.

“Tango, of the Tek variety. Nice to finally meet you.”

“I thought you said your brother was Tim?” Cleo asked.

Impulse scratched at his bread. “Honestly, I thought it was.”

“It’s not, my name’s Jimmy. Don’t trust anything this man says, he’s a menace.” Jimmy huffed, which got far too enthusiastic an agreement from nearly the whole table for Grian’s liking. Behind him, Tango snuck around back to the table. In a baffling move, as far as Grian was concerned, he paused at the empty chair across from his own and pulled it out. He nodded towards Jimmy, who muttered a sheepish thanks. Grian narrowed his eyes at the engineer, but he seemed to be pointedly not looking at him. A shared look from Impulse, though, let him know he wasn’t the only one who took notice.

“Well, then, Jimmy, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Cleo reached over the table, offering their hand.

Chatter very quickly picked itself up once they were all sat down. Most was directed towards Jimmy, asking what he did and the places he was looking at and how on earth did he get his hair that perfect. It was a bit awkward with him sitting at the end. Given the middle seat where Grian now sat was also empty, he suspected Tango’s little gentleman’s stunt had messed up the seating arrangement Impulse intentionally left. 

It wasn’t the last. When their drinks came Tango had ordered some crazy bright red fruity slushy monstrosity like he was on vacation or something. For him it might as well be. Something that brightly coloured, with a fruit skewer at that, was basically tempting the gods as far as Jimmy was concerned, who looked more dazzled by it than the already bright blue drink he ordered. Only a sip had been taken before Tango was nudging it towards him, asking, “Wanna try?” Which he wholeheartedly accepted.

Honestly, between that and the conversation somehow always managing to close into a back and forth between the pair, Grian wanted to gag. Did his brother have absolutely no shame? Or maybe Grian was just bitter he had to order something lighter as their driver. It was at least funny to watch Scar also ask for a sip and be completely ignored.

A large platter was ordered over individual meals. It was just easier, when everyone wanted to try this and that. Astonishingly, it was probably the first time Grian had witnessed Tango eat a vegetable, when he tried one of the skewers the brothers ordered on the side. That was the power of good barbeque, he supposed.

They finally called it after Gem won the third round of bowling in a row. Grian tapped against the open door of his car, glaring holes in the back of his brother’s head, who was too busy saying goodbye to Tango to notice. “Come ooon Tim!” He finally shouted after the third obnoxious little giggle they shared. When he turned, Grian narrowed his eyes. You ain’t subtle. The pair finally said goodbye for real, and Jimmy ran to get in the car before Grian decided to drive off without him. He’d barely gotten his seatbelt on before he was furiously typing something on his phone. Really?

“So, how was it?” Grian asked.

“It was fun, your friends seem cool.” Was the distracted response.

“Mhm…” He leaned closer over his shoulder. “And how was Tango?”

If it was possible to jump out of one’s skin then Jimmy had jumped out of his skin, muscles, and bones. “Huh?” He squeaked, face red and eyes bugged. Grian only returned it with an unimpressed eye roll.

“Oh please. You nearly dropped a bowling ball on your foot while swooning.”

“Well… He’s a cool guy, isn’t he?”

And that shut Grian up. More efficiently than he would like to admit. He expected Jimmy to deny it, or be too flustered to say much of anything. When Grian failed to reply Jimmy went back to his phone, tapping away with a smile. There was that obnoxious giggle again.

This was not one of the issues Grian anticipated having when his brother told him he was moving. 

“So, how do we set them up?”

Impulse Hummed, spending far too long reading the contents of a can of cream of mushroom like it wasn’t the same can he always bought. “Who?”

“ Who? ” Grian mocked back. “Tim and Tango!”

“Do we need to?” Three more cans joined the first, before they moved on to the broths. Grian threw the bouillon in the cart before his companion could grab a carton that would languish in the back of his fridge. “They seem to be doing fine on their own.”

“No, trust me. I know Tim. He was literally living with his last boyfriend before he realized they were dating and that he liked him. He’s an idiot.”

“And Tango hasn’t exactly been leaving the basement much lately.” Impulse conceded, grabbing a carton of pho broth anyways. Acceptable, Grian supposed.

“So, then, any ideas?”

They paused before entering the next aisle. The larger man’s face twisted in thought. “Well, we could invite him to D&D, run a oneshot, and have their characters drink a love potion until they get the hint.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea, absolutely not.” He wrote it down in his phone for a future session.

“Another dinner?”

“What are the odds of getting Tango out of the house twice?”

“Probably a lot higher than you’d think with how they were acting.”

“What if I gave Timmy a tour of your house and just locked the basement door behind him?”

“You know I’m starting to think we might be bad at this and should leave it to someone else.”

“Nonsense!” Grian grabbed the first bottle of soya sauce he spotted, much to Impulse’s protests. He wasn’t going to sit and wait for him to match the prices to the ounces. “Look, I know Timmy best, and you know Tango best. Logically, there’s no better pair of heads to crack together for this. They’ll thank us at the wedding.”

A jar of pickled bamboo shoots found its way into the cart beside the biggest bag of basmati rice Impulse could pick up. He had to catch his breath before he continued. “Listen, Grian, do you need to… talk, or something?”

“What?” Grian’s head whipped around from the wall of spices he was mulling over. “About what?”

Impulse hunched his shoulders up, cringing slightly. “I dunno, y’know… You’re planning your brother’s wedding to your friend while picking out my groceries for me. I’m not even sure how you found out I was grocery shopping or found me in the store. I don’t think that’s normal, healthy person behaviour.” 

“I am so completely normal and healthy!” He said just a bit too loud.

“You know you can talk to me if you need to.”

This was getting nowhere real fast. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Impulse sighed. “I’ll help.”

“Good. Then, what’s the plan?”

In the end, the plan was little more than ‘wait and see’ with a side sprinkling of putting the pair in as much direct contact as possible. This turned out to be much more work than they anticipated, however. Jimmy had always been a socialite, but he seemed to be gone every other day viewing houses or visiting locations. Meanwhile, Tango did as he does and made himself busy constantly. Every group activity Grian planned was lucky to get even one of them, and he was about to lose his damn mind.

Their big break finally showed itself one evening, when Jimmy dropped in with Grian. Well, it was more like Grian promised to drive him to do some errands and made a left turn away from the mall and directly to the ZITS house instead. A decision Jimmy was not familiar enough with the town yet to notice until it was too late. Just the sound of Jimmy’s voice managed to draw Tango upstairs to see what was going on in his kitchen, where the rest of them were chatting.

Immediately the annoying little giggles started up again. If there was one thing in this world that could make Grian try to keep them apart, it was that giggle.

“By the way, Jimmy,” Skizz piped up from where he leaned against the sink. “You still need a lift tomorrow?”

When had Jimmy found time to befriend Skizz? Who knows. Knowing the two of them they probably bumped into each other on the street and kept talking till the sun went down. Extroverts were so exhausting. (He ignored the little Impulse-ish voice nagging that Grian was also something of an extrovert.)

“Yeah, sorry, I appreciate it.”

“Where you going?” Impulse asked.

“Got another house tour.” Tango of all people replied. Maybe that wasn’t all that surprising, though, given the amount Grian has spotted Jimmy texting the past few days.

“Is that so? Will you be going with them?” Grian teased, but instead got a toothy grin back.

“Yessiree!”

Really? Inviting your crush house hunting? Was that forward or just weird? Either way, it was an opportunity. “You know, Tim, you haven’t invited me to go with you.” He whined, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. 

Unfortunately, while Jimmy’s talents were sparse, this was one area where he outranked Grian by a factor of magnitudes and had unlocked absolute immunity, or something. “Yeah. That was on purpose.” He said bluntly, not even looking away from Tango, who laughed. In fact, everyone laughed. Even Impulse, the traitor.

Grian wouldn’t give up so easily, however. “Well I think you should. So where is it?”

“What? You’ll just embarrass me, I’m not telling you!” He squeaked, finally looking at his kind, sweet, dear older brother.

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m not!”

And that was how Jimmy ended up in a headlock on ZITS’s kitchen floor, Impulse reluctantly using Jimmy’s phone to text Grian the address on his calendar. Tango, simp that he was, managed to distract Grian by jokingly calling Jimmy honey, forcing Grian to let go in order to pretend to hurl, during which time Jimmy made his escape back to the car. 

He won though, and the next day when Jimmy pulled up with Skizz and Tango to the house tour, Grian and Impulse were already waiting there with the realtor.

“I can’t believe you.” Jimmy dragged his hands down his face. “Don’t you have to, I don’t know, work?”

“Jokes on you, I’m my own boss.” Grian puffed up his chest.

Tango patted Jimmy on the back and turned the both of them towards the poor, confused realtor. “Let’s just get this over with.” He soothed, to which Jimmy gave him a saccharine smile.

The property was ridiculously nice. It wasn’t especially big, but it was lined by woodlands and already had a garden, albeit in need of some severe TLC. There was even an old chicken coop to the side of the house that only needed new fencing and cleaning. The house itself was a one-story cutesy cottage-like thing. It was older, but whomever had lived in it last had the wiring redone and appliances replaced. The bedroom was big, too, as they tended to be in these older houses, and the bathroom had a proper large tub. There was a spare office room with a nice big window to the garden. The garage was separate, and large enough to be a workshop. All that while being well within the range of good internet and still close enough one could walk to town if they really wanted to. 

It was, essentially, Jimmy’s dream home. The only issue Jimmy seemed to have was the fact that the wall between the living room and kitchen had been knocked out for a more modern open concept design with the largest windows in the house.

“It’d probably be a pain to heat in winter, right?” He asked no one in particular. 

Grian knew jack all about houses, and only shrugged. It still wasn’t that big, so he imagined not. Impulse and Skizz seemed to mull the idea over a little longer. Tango, though, saw an opportunity, and Grian had to give him credit because the man took it without hesitation. His arm was around Jimmy’s shoulder, toothy grin leaned in a bit too close. “Well, that sounds like a good excuse to cuddle up in bed all winter, hm?”

Jimmy’s cheeks turned pink. He muttered something under his breath that made Tango chuckle. Grian rolled his eyes towards Impulse, who seemed almost too shocked by his friend’s forwardness to notice.

More questions were asked, things Grian was glad he never had to worry about as a condo guy. Owning a home seemed like so much work, but Jimmy had lists upon lists. Of course, it was Jimmy, and even with lists he forgot certain things. But Tango seemed ready to pick up the slack with his own barrage of inquiries. 

“I think,” Jimmy said, looking at the kitchen with a bit of awe. “I think this might be it, guys.”

“Yeah?” Tango’s eyes practically sparkled with excitement. Jimmy nodded.

The realtor stepped up. “There aren’t any other serious inquiries at the moment, I think you have a good chance if you put in the asking price.” Jimmy nodded, and the realtor went off to his car to make a call.

Grian pursed his lips at his brother, though. “Are you sure you can afford that? I know you’ve saved up and all, but it’s still a lot.”

Jimmy beamed though, clearly overwhelmed with excitement. “Of course, you think we would look at houses we can’t afford?”

“I mean if I’m honest kind of, but- wait. We?”

“I’ll have you know, despite the beliefs of certain individuals, my credit score’s top notch.” Tango patted his chest proudly. “And between the two of us we have more than enough savings for the down payment.”

Grian felt the wires in his brain short circuit and reboot. An unholy screech came from his throat. “What!”

Jimmy and Tango both side-eyed each other, their awkward smiles caught between guilty and like they were ready to burst out laughing. “You… Thought I could buy a home on my own?” Jimmy asked, hiccupping in the middle.

Impulse looked just as dumbfounded. “When did you work this out?” His voice came out hoarse.

It was Tango’s turn to be confused, raising an eyebrow. “Um, months ago? I told you, Impy.”

“You said you were thinking about moving out, not buying a house with a stranger!”

“Wait-” Skizz burst out laughing, pointing at Grian and Impulse. “You guys really didn’t know?”

“No, why do you know!”

“Cause I listen to my roommates?”

“Hold on. Months ago?” Grian pushed them out of the way, getting into his brother’s face.

It seemed Tango was no longer able to hold in his laughter, leaning on Jimmy for support while Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck. “I honestly couldn’t tell if you’d actually forgotten or if this was some bit.” He admitted.

“We’ve been together for almost three years.” Tango wheezed out between cackles.

“Excuse me?” Balked Grian. “Since when? You’ve never met!” His head whipped between the two. How on earth-

A finger twirled absently in the air as Jimmy tried to explain. “Do you remember your Halloween party? The one me and Joel attended, where Tango was dressed up as an imposter?”

“Yeah?” It was the biggest party he’d ever held, how could he forget? His brow creased. “But that doesn’t make any sense, I never got to introduce you two cause you both went… home… early.” Grian’s eyes went wide as the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

Tango leaned against Jimmy’s shoulder with a smirk. “There it is.”

“Oh. My god.”

“I told you he doesn’t ever listen to me.” Jimmy groaned.

“You two-”

“Yeah.”

Grian gasp cracked. “Jimmy you slut !”

“ Excuse me? ” Jimmy shouted back in equal amounts of disbelief and anger.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the realtor pause in the entryway, then slowly back out of view once more.

“You heard me!”

“What do you think we did!”

“Well you weren’t enjoying my party, that’s for sure!”

 “Okay, okay, everybody calm down.” Skizz stepped in, pushing Grian towards Impulse, who seemed to hold Grian back on instinct more than anything as he was still lost in shock.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Impulse asked, giving his housemate a look of betrayal. It was returned with concern.

“I did? I swear I did.”

“Dipple Dop, he told us he was busy in call with his partner all the time. He extended his work trips several times.”

“That was Timmy?” He stumbled back, leaning on the counter. “I thought he meant, like, an MMO buddy.”

“Yeah, and you certainly never told me!” Grian huffed, which Jimmy returned.

“I did tell you, but you didn’t listen! Or did you just do that thing like with Scott where you thought I wasn’t aware I was dating the guy I lived with for two months just because I told you we hadn’t-”

“You know what?” Skizz clapped his hands together. “I think we all need to just take a deep breath, okay? Everybody just breathe. In,” He took a deep breath, of which his housemates joined in while the brothers continued to glare at each other. “And out.” They all let out a long sigh.

 A brief silence fell over the group, only interrupted by a nervous knock at the door. The realtor stuck his head in, eyes darting between the group. “Um, Mister Solidarity, Mister Tek, could I speak to you now?”

“Yes, one second.” Jimmy said, voice tight. The pair left to talk outside.

Grian and Impulse went home after that, waiting for the other three to return. They said little, Grian fuming while Impulse stared at his lap like his dog just died. Zed popped in to say he was going out, at which point he was let in on the day’s events and gave them both odd looks. Had they really been the only ones who didn’t know? 

By the time everyone else arrived back at the house they’d pulled themselves together somewhat. Not entirely, but enough to ask questions without shouting.

“So, you’re really leaving?” Impulse asked, voice almost watery. Tango’s posture softened with his smile, and pulled the larger man into a big hug.

“Oh, buddy, I told you I was gonna. I’m a big boy now!”

“Yeah, but… I dunno. We’ve lived together since college. I didn’t think this would actually happen…”

Skizz rubbed his back. “Hey, he ain’t movin’ cross country, he’s just down the road. We’ll see him all the time.”

“Yeah! I promise, Impy, I ain’t going nowhere.”

The three continued to talk among each other, comforting their friend, so Grian left them be. Instead, he turned his attention onto Jimmy, who still looked huffy, with his arms crossed and a glare squarely on Grian.

“I told you.”

“Well, maybe you should have told me better.” Grian turned his nose up as an almost automatic response. Jimmy threw his arms in the air and stomped off to the doorway, and immediately Grian felt the regret. He chased after his little brother. “Wait, Tim. I’m…” A warbled wheeze escaped his throat, straining to get the dreaded word out. “Ssso-…rry... That I didn’t listen.”

The shift was near-instant, disdain laxing into smugness. “There, was that so hard?”

“Immensely.”

“Oh, come off it, you big baby.”

“I just don’t get it.” Grian grabbed his hair. “How did I miss that you two were dating? Why didn’t Tango say something when we invited him to dinner?”

“Well, it probably started with the fact that you introduce me to everyone as Tim and his boyfriend’s name is Jimmy.” He sneered, eyebrow raised.

Well, he had him there. Not that he would ever admit that to his brother’s face. “I still can’t believe you ditched my party to hook up with my friend.”

“Oh my god, we didn’t hook up!” Jimmy threw his head back. “We just went to get Mcdonald’s and watch movies because Tango almost had a panic attack at the number of people you invited and couldn’t breathe.”

“In my defence, I didn’t expect that many people to actually show up.”

“Either way, stop projecting.”

“Wh- excuse me?”

“Tango’s the same as me. I can assure you nothing like that would ever happen.”

Grian pouted. Well, at least they were happy and close by. “Fine, I’ll forgive you if you can get Tango to come to roller derby night.”

“Uh, I don’t have anything I need to be forgiven for, and I’m not going to make Tango do something he doesn’t want to do.”

“But Tim, consider: Tango falling on his butt in the most hideous disco suit.”

That gave Jimmy pause, thinking for a solid moment before a smile stretched behind his hand. “Alright, fine.”

“Yes!” Grian pumped his fist into the air, nearly smacking Impulse in the face as the group joined them.

“What’s going on out here?”

“Nothing.” Both brothers replied, matching smiles immediately getting them suspicious looks. Jimmy pushed past them to grab Tango’s hand and drag him towards the basement. “C’mon, we have to finish planning.”

“Yessir.” Tango saluted with a chuckle. 

As they retreated, Grian shouted after them. “Oh, Tango!”

“Yeah?” Bless his soul, he was too busy giving his partner a doofy look that was wiped away the second he turned to see Grian. He did his best to bore a hole through the man’s skull.

“You better watch your back. I know where you sleep.”

“Well, I’d hope so.” Grian didn’t like that grin. “Be weird if you didn’t know where your brother was.”

And that was how Grian began to plan the death of Tango Tek.

[feral-sylki]

You know I think episode three Loki and Sylvie is favourite them because they’re goofs and disasters I’m being so serious. They’re such losers they’re fuckin disasters both of them. What was Lokis plan. His mastermind plan is so goddamn vague and I love it and on that note. What was Sylvie’s plan. Why did Sylvie bring a tempad with only enough charge for two hops to the mission that is the culmination of her life’s work. Stab each other in the shack just stab ignore the problem outside to focus on knives you’re both such Lokis I can’t even. Sylvie hun you can’t just grab someone in a suggestive way like that and then blue screen when they ask you what you’re doing even if you were trying to magically ransack their brain. Every line of their dialogue is hilarious and unexpected and fits so fucking well it’s insane but importantly they’re not trademark “cool” they’re very them like they’re both so very genuinely playfully fully everything a good Loki we’ve been wanting to see is and it’s glorious because that’s what makes them cool. Them being genuinely and goofily the character we’ve come to love, with the good sides and bad, being capable badasses and also just utter unhinged can’t convince one old lady with a gun not to shoot either of you in the chest literally you could have died omg disasters

[darkhighness]

Good Omentober Day 6 - The Bentley

Prompt by @disaster-dog

During a getaway in Tadfield, Aziraphale grows enamoured with the way humans spent their summers. Crowley can't trust Aziraphale with the Bentley alone. Bubbles ensue.

When Aziraphale burst through the door holding a bucket and car cleaning surprised, Crowley thought he was seeing red.

“What do you think you’re doing with those?” The demon hissed, making a grab for the cursed tools.

“I’m going to clean our car!” Aziraphale beamed proudly. He carried his trademark grin since he’d walked through the door and was truly excited at the possibility of doing something with Crowley. They had been staying in Tadfield for the week and Aziraphale had watched another couple cleaning their car. It simply looked like so much fun.

“You are not going anywhere near her with this rubbish,” Crowley scolded lowly, “We can miracle away any dirt like we always do.”

“Please Crowley,” Aziraphale pleaded. He could tell it was getting desperate so he had to use the one trick that always persuaded the demon. His puppy-dog eyes.

The demon looked at Aziraphale whose wide eyes were staring at him in some kind of adoration. He wanted to say no but Aziraphale knew exactly how to tug on Crowley’s heartstrings and get him to go alone with any kind of plan.

“You can’t wash a car in a waistcoat though, angel.”

“Oh, I’ll get changed most quickly! You best get changed too, Crowley,” Aziraphale beamed before placing the cleaning supplies down and shifting into the next room.

Crowley was less bothered, quickly miracling up a new ensemble. Crowley was never one to wear shorts but the thought of damp jeans clinging to his legs so here he was in a dorky pair of high-cut, quick dry shorts and a black tank top. His loose curls got pulled back into a half-up style and he made sure to bring a towel into the main room for when they were finished. He hadn’t washed a car himself but if any of the videos he’d seen were a good indication, it would be a messy affair. The demon would be absolutely mortified if anyone saw him like this, but it was for his angel so he’d suffer.

Aziraphale, much less confident in his changing wardrobe settled on something a little more conservative. He managed to muster up a button-down hawaiian style shirt with small books on it, rather obnoxiously paired with a pair of light blue board shorts. He was truly enthused to make use of the limited good weather and would enjoy all the sun he could.

Aziraphale exited the room and Crowley’s jaw immediately dropped. He’d gotten used to seeing the angel in his centuries-dated ensemble and while this was somewhat of a welcome change, it threw the demon off guard entirely, “I like the…colours.”

Aziraphale blushed at the demon’s compliment, “And you look gorgeous as always. I didn’t know you shaved your legs?” He quizzed.

Red couldn’t even begin to describe the colour of Crowley’s face, “I mean, plenty of people do…”

The angel walked over and kissed Crowley’s cheek, “I think it’s cute.”

He grabbed the bucket and headed outside where the Bentley had parked herself perfectly on the grass, almost in anticipation of her bath.

“See Crowley, she’s excited!” Aziraphale gushed.

Crowley went to unfurl the hose from the side of their temporary residence. As he moved closer and began to fill the bucket with water. Aziraphale rather keenly squeezed the soap into the container and watched all the bubbles form, giggling with an almost childish delight.

Content to be getting attention from her parents, the Bentley began to play music, unprompted. Crowley’s embarrassment had almost faded but it all flooded back as ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’ began to blast out of the car’s radio.

The demon just grabbed one of the sponges and began to wash the bonnet of the car in a circular motion. Bubbles began to cover the entire car as Aziraphale joined in. For a while, they were just enjoying the company.

At some point, Aziraphale turned around hastily and his sponge landed firmly in the middle of Crowley’s chest, leaving warm soapy water dripping off him.

“Angel!” Crowley huffed but as he turned around and saw the giant grin on Aziraphale’s face, he couldn’t stay mad, “Oh, is that how we’re playing now?”

The demon leant down to dip his sponge in the water before hurling it in Aziraphale’s direction, landing squarely in the angel’s back.

Aziraphale gasped in shock, taking one of the rags they’d thrown aside to throw towards Crowley.

“Don’t move, angel,” Crowley grinned before reaching into the bucket and scooping a handful of bubbles. He moved closer to Aziraphale and pressed the bubbles onto his partner’s face, making a makeshift bubble beard.

The demon doubled over in laughter watching Aziraphale’s dumbstruck expression.

Azirapahle was hardly about to allow that and returned by taking a handful of bubbles and making a movement towards Crowley’s hair. In his movement, he slipped on the wet grass and began to fall.

Crowley rushed to catch the angel, holding him up from the ground and he just smiled at his angel. Aziraphale, slightly out of breath from the whole affair just let out a small breath and straightened up.

“Bit too old to be having this much fun, don’t you think?” Crowley teased, wiping the remaining bubbles from the angel’s face.

“Never too old. Hasn’t stopped us before, why start now?”

Crowley pulled the angel close to him once again, one hand resting on his waist and the other moving around his shoulder. He slowly pressed their lips together, enjoying the admittedly sloppy but all-the-while perfect point of connection. Aziraphale indulged in the kiss, his movements matching Crowley’s as they became one. After a moment, he slowly pulled away to stare into Aziraphale’s eyes.

“We should do this more often, angel.”

[nikatyler]

List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10 simblrs whose sims you adore ♥♥♥

Thank you! I'm gonna do Sharon today.

1. I’ve mentioned it recently, but I’m changing up the reason why she comes to Twinbrook a little bit. Originally, her father gets a new job in Twinbrook, but there’s nothing else really about it. That's all, just a new job. Now, there’s a bit more to that. He’s a detective, and he’s been called to the area to solve a strange crime others have been struggling with. He spends most days working on the case over in Bridgeport. He’s very careful with his daughter, he wants to keep her really really safe (maybe too safe), but he’s so busy now, much more than he used to be back at home. He just can't look after her as much as he used to. So, Sharon finds new friends and spends a lot of time with them, she hates being alone in their little rented home. When he finds out, he doesn’t approve at all, but it’s too late. They’re already close and she’s already developed feelings for a certain disaster.

2. Okay this might seem like I’m making it more about Nathan, her father, but no, we’ll get strictly to Sharon in a minute. Anyway, he wasn’t always a, well, stuck up boring serious adult grumpy about the youth today. Back in the day, he was quite a specimen of the rebellious youth too, but he says he learned and matured and grew out of it. Still, something from those days stayed with him, his love for rock music. He’s got a huge collection of old CDs, tapes and vinyls, and he shares this passion with his daughter. It's one of the few remaining things they can bond over. He doesn't get her at all anymore.

3. You might remember that after the Werewolves GP dropped, I was debating making her a werewolf again. Way back when I first created her, she was one, then I scratched it halfway through gen 4, then I started thinking about it again in 2022. Well, I can now tell you that she will be turned into a werewolf, early 30s or something like that. Not gonna go into detail but before that she gets a new coach, he turns out to be a piece of crap, she decides to fire him, he gets angry, turns out he’s a werewolf, and he attacks her and…yeah. That’s about it. 😬

4. Besides dyeing her hair blue (which is totally trademark kinda thingy), she also enjoyed bleaching her hair an even lighter shade of blonde once, but it was really stressful, she thought she was going to lose her hair. She dyes her hair at home always, even if she could afford to go to the salon. It comes with risks sure, but she just prefers it. Salons and hairdressers are too much to handle sometimes 😂

5. One of my favourite things about Sharon and Tyler’s relationship is the way she brings out the serious side of him while he can bring out the funny side of her. It’s one of the clearest signs how well they complete each other.

[giuliettacapuleti]

An obnoxiously long summary of Frank Wildhorn’s Carmen absolutely no one asked for:

The musical was originally put on in the Czech Republic in 2008, and actually became so popular it broke box office records for the theater. Despite this, I’d never heard of it until I read that the Budapesti Operettszínház is putting it on soon. It’s been put on in Japan, Korea, and Austria, and seems to have been popular in Korea but not Austria (not sure about Japan). There’s an English demo but I can only find 2 songs from it.

If you are familiar with Frank Wildhorn’s work you’ll know he likes to play fast and loose with accuracy regarding the source material. The plot is a huge departure from the opera, which is fine with me but probably not so much if you like it.

The musical is allegedly actually an adaptation of the novella that the opera is based on, but it doesn’t really resemble that either. The musical partly takes place in a circus and this makes Carmen’s posse a group of performers instead of smugglers which to me is neat but again, not for everyone.

Overall the plot is. Well. Something. It’s got some trademark Wildhorn-ness going on that if you’re familiar with Dracula and Jekyll and Hyde you will likely be annoyed with but not surprised by.

I am not 100% sure on the time period in which the musical takes place, it appears to be the 50s but there are a few hints that it’s more current than that, so I’m not sure. It’s possible it’s deliberately meant to be vague.

On to the Summary (FULL DISCLOSURE IT’S 100% NOT SERIOUS AND REALLY LONG SORRY)

The musical starts off with a flamenco dance off between a random woman and the sexy and confident Carmen, who more or less steals the random woman’s dancing partner. The random woman isn’t having it. Suddenly a bunch of random people with torches burst in and start fighting with soldiers (???). Then they stop fighting and just chill because I guess the dance-off is more important. Carmen and Random Woman continue their dance-off, which culminates in Carmen either waving a knife at or actually slashing Random Woman across the face.

A woman (possibly fate itself) sings about fate. It wouldn’t be a European musical without someone singing about fate.

Meanwhile, the citizens of a picturesque town in Spain (?) are celebrating the engagement of police officer José Rivera and Caterina, the mayor’s daughter. The mayor gives a speech about how moral and Totally Not Secretly Corrupt the town is. Two seconds later, the mayor and José’s superior, Captain Zuniga, laugh about how the currently moral José will soon become as corrupt as they are (side note: I think they are meant to be Spanish but the officers’ uniforms are giving Carabinieri). We immediately know the mayor is shady because he wears sunglasses and a white suit, has a pinky ring and smokes a cigar. That and the fact he sings about how corrupt and greedy he is.

José and Caterina sing a sweet little duet about how much they love each other despite only knowing each other for a few months. We all know love duets mean impending disaster in European musicals so stay frosty.

Caterina leaves and Carmen and her friends appear in the mist, talking about how they want something fun to do in the boring, vanilla town. Carmen notices José standing there and kisses him after giving him a rose. José has no object permanence I guess, and forgets Caterina, immediately running after Carmen. Prime bf material right there.

The next day, the circus performers are hanging out at the Carnival. Carmen sings a song about how desirable she is, which would sound vain except for the fact that literally everyone wants her, so she’s just telling us how it is. José appears with the rose Carmen gave him. José’s bff and fellow officer Inmar, aka the only sane person in this entire musical, appears and tells José to fucking chill. Zuniga, AKA Officer Creep, suggests they arrest Carmen for no reason so they can take her in for “questioning”. A bunch of men try to assault Carmen, so she pulls a knife on one of them. Zuniga uses this as an excuse to have her arrested, and orders José to take her to the station. Carmen sings a song about how no one owns her (yas queen), and José tells her he has morals and is totally not weak and definitely won’t cheat on his fiancée no really he’s cereal. José is Madonna-Whore Complexing on main and calls her a devil, comparing her to the angelic Caterina. His crisis of conscience lasts LITERALLY two seconds, and he and Carmen start making out, only to be interrupted by Zuniga, who tells José off and gives Carmen the ultimatum of sleeping with him or being put in jail. Carmen rejects him and runs off, while he calls her a whore and chases after her (peak rejected guy on bumble behavior).

Meanwhile, Caterina is in her room worried about José. Her aunt calms her down by singing her a song about how she should totally have sex with José and recounts her own romantic exploits. Caterina is reluctant because she wants to honor her mother’s memory and not disappoint her dad (ew). Later, José comes through her window and basically tries to pressure her into sex because Carmen made him horny (what a guy!). Caterina sings about her conflicting feelings and almost has sex with him, but they are interrupted by Caterina’s sketchy dad knocking on the door. He exhibits creepy behavior and then leaves.

The next day, girls from the town are at a beach, talking shit about Carmen and her crew. Enter Carmen and her crew. The townsgirls make fun of them, but Carmen is unbothered. One of the non-hostile girls asks Carmen to teach them how to be sexy, and we get a song about that. Admittedly, the song starts out about how to be sexy to men, but it turns into a nice bonding moment and ultimately is about being confident so I’ll allow it. Unfortunately, Inmar and José ruin everything and tell Carmen and her posse return to their camp. One of Carmen’s friends says what everyone’s thinking and wonders wtf Carmen sees in José. Carmen and José start grinding right in front of Inmar’s salad, and Inmar is understandably pissed at him for remaining with her. José reminds Carmen he Totally Won’t Cheat on Caterina No Really. Carmen hints that she is unavailable too and is dating (?) a really scary guy who apparently even scares police (more on this later). Then it’s Real Sadgirl Hours for her and she sings about how everyone is ultimately alone and she really wants José for reasons that are still a mystery to literally everyone.

Back at the police station, Inmar calls José out and berates him for wanting to cheat on Caterina. José doesn’t listen and is all ‘it’s so hard being me uwu’. Despite his friend being a fucking idiot, Inmar is a real one and warns him about Zuniga anyway. They sing a song about how José should/should not sleep with Carmen. Listening to José talking about how it’s soooo hard to not cheat on Caterina is like. That’s so sad world’s smallest violin Alexa play despacito etc. Then the mayor and Zuniga join in and sing about how they also want Carmen. Lana Del Rey was right the boys the girls they all want Carmen.

That night, the circus puts on a free show for the town. Everyone goes, including the now Carmen-ified townswomen. Inmar gets a cute moment with one of the girls (fuck everyone else I respect YOU).

Carmen and her girlies appear and perform a very catchy song about living in the moment and having no regrets. The townspeople are vibing but the party is crashed by Carmen’s Very Scary bf (?) Garcia, who owns the circus but has been off somewhere (it’s never explained where but whatever). We know he’s Bad News because he wears a black leather coat, a chain necklace + black boots, has an eye scar, an excessive amount of black eyeliner, a chest AND neck AND arm tattoo, and throws knives around.

Ok, on one hand, the interesting thing about the opera (though not the novella) is that José starts out being a good person but descends into evil and this guy being obviously Bad from the beginning removes that theme, but on the other more important hand, I eat this stuff right up and I’m not mad about it. Dolhai Attila and Homonnay Zsolt are playing him in the upcoming Hungarian version but you know who would have been PERFECT?? Szabó P. Szilveszter that man would make this dude PATHETIC.

Anywhoo, Garcia is pissed that Carmen put on a show for free and apparently he’s another guy who thinks he owns her. Obviously he missed the multiple ‘I only belong to myself’ songs she sang whilst he was off doing fuck all. Where is Elisabeth singing Ich Guhör Nur Mir when you need her? José arrests Carmen again to protect her from both Zuniga and Garcia, who apparently gets a pass for throwing knives at people in front of the entire police force but whatever he’s a knife thrower so maybe they figure that’s just what he does.

Caterina is upset that José is taking Carmen in, but he explains that she’s not safe with the increasingly thirsty Zuniga. Which, ok, is true, but we all know damn well that’s not the main reason.

Carmen and José are about to have sex but are interrupted by Zuniga AGAIN. He pulls a gun on Carmen (or José I literally cannot tell) and demands Carmen have sex with him. But here comes Garcia with a steel chair Garcia has ALSO been following them and attacks Zuniga. Carmen and José run away while Garcia fights Zuniga. I NEED to mention that Garcia is wearing a vest under his jacket but is otherwise shirtless. What does the vest even DO. What is the point of a vest if you are shirtless under it like ugufhddhgddhdh

There’s a neat little fight scene until Garcia remembers he’s a knife thrower and literally has knives in his pants, and stabs Zuniga before shooting him with his own gun. He then frames José for the murder.

Act I ends with the entire town singing about fate and fateful decisions (did you notice they are themes??) while Carmen and José are finally about to have sex without Zuniga interrupting them (RIP asshole).

The police force is not only corrupt, but corrupt and stupid, so they don’t dust for fingerprints on the gun used to kill Zuniga or anything and go straight to assuming José killed him. The mayor is Big Mad, not because José killed Zuniga (lol) but because he cheated on his daughter, who is worried about losing José (girl why, just let the trash take itself out). Garcia is Big Mad and jealous, and gets a line about how he is ‘the fear they can’t outrun’ just in case you weren’t already 100% certain this is the Big Bad. Like. Just in case. In case you didn’t get it.

Now we have a nifty circus scene full of circus performers (I just KNOW Opi will have a field day). Hopefully later productions do without the zoo animals :(

Carmen confronts Garcia over framing José for murder, and he responds by accusing her of having real feelings for José before singing a song about how he owns her and she can never escape him (tbh just typical boss/employee behavior). Despite the (obviously) disturbing lyrics it’s kind of a bop. I do think it’s dependent on the singer - the Czech actor has a rough and unpolished voice that’s perfect for the song, but I can see it sounding weird when sung by guys with a different vocal type. You know whose voice would be perfect for his songs?? Szabó P. Szilv*gunshot*

Despite the fact he spends the entire song flinging her around the stage, the thing that really upsets her is him saying José will never go for her when he has Caterina. I understand the bar for men is in the Grand Canyon but THAT is what upsets her??? The thought of losing the most Mid man on the planet?? Not the increasingly possessive and violent guy following her around ??? Side note: there is a giant circus poster on stage of Garcia looking sinister while holding knives just in case you somehow still didn’t get that he’s bad news by this point. If you didn’t - no worries! You will be reminded many more times before the musical is over.

Garcia warns Carmen that if the police don’t find José he will kill him and everything he loves.

Meanwhile, the police have been given orders to arrest José or kill him. I’m not all that familiar with police procedure but it seems weird they would kill someone outright just because the mayor tells them to. Why is the mayor even giving orders to the police force ?? I understand he is corrupt but ?? ???? ?????

Inmar, who again, is the only Real One, warns his bff and tells him to get out of town. José actually takes some accountability for his actions but immediately ruins it by forcing poor Inmar to sit through a song about how he is stupid and is not going to leave Carmen. Inmar, for reasons I cannot possibly fathom, still cares about José, and promises he will watch for Garcia at the circus. He leaves but José is not done with his song and forces us to listen to his whining for a few more minutes.

Carmen urges José to run away with her, but he refuses because he wants to clear his name. This man is so stupid !!! He is SO stupid !!! He cannot get worse at this point !!!

Carmen warns him about Garcia wanting to hurt everyone José cared about. It takes José a few seconds, but he eventually realizes that means Caterina.

Apparently he can get worse at this point, and urges Carmen to warn Caterina. THIS IS MAYBE ONE OF THE DUMBEST PLOT POINTS IN ANY SHOW EVER ASIDE FROM WHATEVER WAS HAPPENING IN LOVE NEVER DIES. Alas, it is needed because Carmen and Cat need a showdown.

And showdown they do have - in a church no less! They start off antagonistic (and Caterina finally has a Bad Bitch moment!!) but then bond over how stupid they are for falling in love. They are soo right I could not agree with this song more. Girlies you are stupid. They have a cute little moment where they hold hands and you start to hope they will run away together and leave José behind but NOPE. Caterina has the potential to be such an interesting character but noooooo we had to go the ‘personality amounts to loving a man’ route. We had hints Caterina could be an interesting character !!! She mentions feeling desire but feeling guilty about it because of religion and feeling like she is disappointing her family !! More of that !!! More deconstruction of the Good Girl trope instead of playing it straight !!! They could have went with her realizing she didn’t really love José and just was doing what was expected of her but spoiler alert this does not happen !!!

Caterina, who now realizes Carmen actually loves José, suggests to her that they work together to protect José and expose Garcia as the murderer. WHY ARE YOU PUTTING YOUR LIVES IN DANGER TO PROTECT THIS SKRUNKLY ASS MAN MAMMA MIA HE IS NOT WORTH IT. Carmen believes it’s too dangerous for her, but Caterina says she is tired of playing it safe. Caterina’s aunt pops out of nowhere and tells them it’s totally a good plan. They decide to draw out Garcia at the circus (HE OWNS THE CIRCUS AND IS A KNIFE THROWER WHERE TF ELSE WOULD HE BE WHY DO YOU NEED TO DRAW HIM OUT OH MY GODDD).

The circus is about to put on a show (presumably for money this time), and the townspeople are congregating to watch. Jeff Bezos I mean the mayor arrives wearing his sunglasses at night, causing that song to be stuck in my head along with the admittedly catchy songs from this musical. We get more circus performances featuring a lot of fire (I cannot WAIT to see the Does My Health Insurance Pay For This amount of fire the Hungarian version is going to go with).

You came to see a musical but SURPRISE! You’re getting a circus performance too. Does this make up for the wonky plot points? You decide.

Garcia arrives on the scene to sing about how the circus and everyone in it belongs to him and that everyone should be totally scared of him because he has knives in his pants and can kill people. Inexplicably they are scared, even the fucking whole ass police force that showed up. I understand he can throw knives but I don’t think that would be any match for, say, seven guns. CALL ME CRAZY. I also don’t think he has actual jurisdiction over anything just because he has a circus. Call me crazy again.

Anyway, the song is banger but is alas, too short. Why do the bad guys always get the bangers and bops ??? I’m not complaining but it’s a valid question. You know who would play this part perfectly - ?? * gets dragged away *.

Garcia grabs Caterina and makes her part of his knife throwing act. For some reason the mayor allows it. Whatever, I’ve given up trying to understand. Before he can throw the knife, Carmen appears and offers herself as the target. While it’s a badass moment and cool of Carmen to save Caterina, it makes no sense. But whatever! It’s dramatic!

Anyway, Carmen offers to have knives thrown at her by an extremely violent guy who explicitly says he wants to kill her. He tells her that he would definitely kill her in front of everyone because he is not afraid to die. First off, I don’t think the audience (of the circus) was meant to hear him saying that but I wonder about how much they heard considering they look freaked out when he violently grabs Carmen by the neck. Second, you gotta appreciate a villain who talks the talk and walks the walk. So many bad guys are all *surprised pikachu face* when they actually die, so shoutout to this asshole who is actually committed to his cause.

Garcia, being the professional performer that he is, tells the audience they are going to see something they’ve never seen before (presumably Carmen’s death). Before he can throw the knife, José jumps in front of her. Garcia very loudly and explicitly tells the audience that he is going to kill someone, but the police straight up do not care. José accuses him of killing Zuniga, but his dramatic moment is ruined by Garcia straight up admitting it in front of everyone. He waves his knife around and continues telling everyone how he is going to kill someone. Again, the police just casually watch. Go girl give us nothing.

Garcia throws his knife at José (tbh at this point I was rooting for it) but nooo Carmen jumps in front of him and gets stabbed instead. Inmar (who again is the only bitch I ever respected) fatally shoots Garcia but it is too late. Carmen dies in José’s arms before she can tell him she loves him. To reiterate, this bad bitch died for the most skrunkly ass dude on the planet we HATE to see it.

Caterina walks away from both her sketchy dad and José (yas queen) to follow the procession leading Carmen’s body away.

The personification of Fate, who has apparently also been a fortuneteller at the circus this whole time, tells us the story’s over. Carmen, presumably now in Heaven, sings about how she wouldn’t change anything about her life if given the chance. WELL I WOULD, CARMEN. I WOULD.

….AND YET ??? Barring the plot and some character personality choices I ??? Liked it ??? It has a ton of potential if they just change some things about the plot and characters (I’m serious). The songs have been stuck in my head for days and I like the fact they gave Carmen some depth beyond the standard Femme Fatale archetype. Unfortunately, the wonky plot points and José exist.

[beeffilledshark]

Ok, I saw a twitter user post about how Witch From Mercury focuses on the implications of the hero gundam unlike past gundam shows and I am obligated to defend my babygirl Iron-Blooded Orphans because this is slanderous.

I also want to preface that I have yet to watch much of any UC series (I’m planning to grind through the Chamuro divorce saga after I graduate with a friend), but I have watched IBO, 00, 08th MS team, and Unicorn among some other movies and series. I have an unpopularly negative opinion of 00 so I don’t feel equipped to analyze any of the implications/themes of the show, but I loved Trailblazer so I’ll probably come back around to it eventually.

ANYWAYS, I fucking love IBO. Not as much as WFM, but it’s absolutely my second favorite series from what I’ve watched so far. Yeah, it’s one of the darker series and it doesn’t have any of the trademark Gundam characteristics about space empathy and the evolution of humanity, but it makes for a wildly interesting mafia/pirate/found family story that targets a BUNCH of my weaknesses. However, it fucking NAILS the overarching theming of the universe and how the Gundams are portrayed and perceived in a very unique way.

The Post Disaster timeline is clearly one of the most unique timelines as it’s literally a post apocalyptic setting after Mobile Armors tried to blow the Solar System up. UC kind of plays with something similar with Operation British/the Colony Drop, but it’s clear that even though half of humanity on Earth died, it’s still a relatively put-together setting. In PD, Mars is completely saturated with war orphans and impoverished people with almost no one wanting to fix the world outside of a naïve teenage hedge fund girl who was literally nicknamed the Princess of Revolution for wanting to play out a fairytale with her as the hero. Even though she succeeds in her objective of gaining Martian economic dependence, at the GREAT cost of Tekkadan mind you, season 2 reveals that despite this, nothing has changed. She succeeded in claiming Martian half-metal for Mars, but it simply enriches a different external entity (Teiwaz in this case) while the poor and homeless continue to suffer. It’s an acute summation of this world where naivety and “hope” will often lead to either net neutral or negative outcomes (insert images of Shino, Mika, Orga, Akihiro, the Dort protesters, and all of the people who died because Kudelia wanted to change the world and Orga wanted to take the shortest path to an easy life for everyone). Regardless of how pure your intentions are, the PD universe will always clap back and fuck either you or the people you’re trying to help over (even Naze and the Turbines suffered this fate).

MOVING on, I bring this up simply to demonstrate how fucked up the setting is and to illustrate why PD Gundams, literally forgotten demons that saved the world from the apocalypse, fit very well in this setting. Barbatos is a perfect encapsulation of this setting. When piloted by the World’s most autistic, driven teenager, it’s capable of unimaginable power, even by the standards of Gundam timelines with drastically higher power scales. This leads to some of the coolest fights ever animated by Sunrise (cradling Barbatos vs Hashmal in my arms like my child) and people turning off their analytical brain to go “ooh big robot” which is a valid way to consume the show. However, the ramifications and effects Barbatos has on the universe is earth-shatteringly important. The extraordinary power Barbatos demonstrates when he and Mika defeat Hashmal awakens something in McGillis that Bael finds worthy, thus leading to Bael;s reemergence which would uproot the entire power structure of Gjallarhorn, the main military power of the system. it also instills a fear in Julietta and Gjallarhorn that these demons are still around and capable of taking squads of Mobile Suits on their own and pushes Iok into bringing the Dansleif (A LITERAL WARCRIME WEAPON) into the field and Causing The Latter Half Of Season 2 to go wrong (oversimplification but I just think it’s funny).

What I’m trying to explain is that the protagonist Gundam of IBO is a potent manifestation of what’s wrong with the PD timeline. To survive, Mika has to sacrifice body parts to let Barbatos off its leash and destroy insurmountable opponents that would be undefeatable without every Dainsleif Gjallarhorn has. It sucks that most people will watch IBO and see really cool mech fights and the Kudelia-Atra-Mika polycule and simply chalk the series up as a mecha shonen because I feel that label does a MASSIVE disservice to the show (I won’t get into it now, but as a poly bisexual, the Mika polycule could have been amazing if any of the writers had met a woman once before this show). Aerial is completely bait for me (they finally made the Gundam A Character) and I love her for how unique and utterly intriguing she is for a Gundam, but Barbatos and even Unicorn and most of the Gundams in 00 are a joy to pick apart and analyze in the context of their respective universes. Just because Aerial has eleven space oomfies in there doesn’t automatically make her any more of an amalgamation and representation of Ad Stella than Barbatos does of Post Disaster or Unicorn of the Late-UC period.

Anyways, watch WFM and IBO.

[greta--gill]

when the feeling sinks in

Rating: T

Words: 3.5k

Status: 1/3

—

Summary:

“Yuri,” she breathes, her body sighing with relief at the sight of the girl in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

“Now that Christmas has passed, I’m here to see you, obviously,” Yuri answers, like she didn’t fly halfway across the world, like it’s perfectly normal to come to an entirely different continent just to see somebody.

Like people are just that rich. She supposes Yuri Han is.

Kitty inches a little closer, taking a deep breath. Yuri's trademark scent reaches her. She smells like pomegranate and mango. She flew almost six thousand miles, spent over twelve hours on a plane, and she still smells like her soap.

It’s awesome. --

(Or, with Kitty’s scholarship and expulsion up for debate again, Yuri heads to the US after Christmas to hopefully find more reason to convince her mom that she should stay at KISS. It would be a grand gesture – at least that’s what Kitty thinks – if Juliana didn't come along. It’s clearly nothing more than her friend wanting what’s best for her… right?)

(Or or, the one where Yuri makes the grand gesture, Kitty is my favorite disaster bisexual, and the Song-Covey sisters have each other's backs.)

[read it on ao3]

[thesmallmeggles]

WIP Wednesday rolls around once again

This time we got an intro scene, plus a rewritten part of what I shared prior.

Forgot to mention in my last WIP Post that this fic does depict a character experiencing burnout and/or depression. Just as a heads up.

Research and Development's Thursday afternoon check-in meeting was well underway, only Zanzo had yet to arrive. Had this been his first absence, Macaron could let it slide. His index finger, seemingly of its own accord, rubbed the spine of the work journal clipped to his belt. He would have to seek him out afterwards, wouldn't he?

"Eyeballing his chair won't make him appear, sir," O5-KAR said, accented in trademark brogue. "It's best to keep on with business."

"Right." Macaron (does something). "How close are we to implementing the new BRU-T4L AI?"

"We finished another round of testing in Chamber Two," a PGR-0101 piped up. #11133 according to their worker identification badge. "But as you remember from the video I linked, things aren't going well."

Macaron knew. Four PGR-0101 units supervised a BRU-T4L, a seven foot monstrosity with spinning blades attached to its hands, as it pruned a potted hedge. For reasons currently under investigation, a CUT-WAN fresh out of repair bounded into the testing chamber. The BRU-T4L paused its labor, scrutinizing the robotic dog. Everyone watched in horror as the BRU-T4L reached down and… cradled the CUT-WAN in its long, rubbery arms. Attempts to retrieve the CUT-WAN from the otherwise aggressive BRU-T4L's hold resulted in snarling and severed mechanical limbs. Staff had to wait until the BRU-T4L ended its rumbling punctuated cuddle session on its own.

"I reviewed the code afterwards," #11133 said. "Someone edited it right before we installed it. The perpetrator added a series of commands related to a 'baby rocking mode'." Their statement ended with an air of disbelief. "To make things weirder, these same commands originated from the earliest iteration of the BRU-T4L's code."

Macaron thought for a moment. "Could Zanzo have added it?"

#11133 began. "Zanzo's an engineer-"

"And a disorganized one at that," O5-KAR interjected.

"So he often left the programming to us robots.  The last time he added a special feature to a product was to make it explode."

…

"Is Zanzo in his office?" Macaron asked #11133 as they were leaving.

"Probably. I don't think he's left since clocking in this morning."

...

Macaron knocked once before opening the office door. True to the SCR-UB's assessment, the area was a disaster zone. Notes and diagrams littered the floor, increasing in amount closer to Zanzo's desk. Out of curiosity, Macaron picked one up to read, only to find it marred by red ink scribbles and the scrawled comment: "AWFUL!!! Needs More PUNCH". 

Zanzo sat behind his desk, face planted on its surface. Most of his natural black hair had grown back in, leaving green tips. Its current style partly obscured the polymer port covers where his neural wires plugged in. (Zanzo didn't wear them now, as his current status blocked him from work pipeline access.) Macaron thought Zanzo was asleep until he raised his head. He pushed back from the desk, face frozen in a blank stare. Dark circles ringed his eyes and stubble covered his cheeks.

"Zanzo?" Macaron reached over to tap him on the shoulder. Zanzo caught the movement, nearly launching himself off his chair with a gasp. He scrambled to up the volume on his aural implants - silver disks located where organic ears would be.

“Mister Macaron! Are you here to tell me how good of a worker drone I’m being?” Zanzo smiled broadly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Without waiting for a response, he clapped his hands together. "Since you've graced me with your presence, I can show you, uh, show you the current model. One minute." Zanzo focused his attention on the computer, flipping through multiple tabs with dizzying speed.

Macaron rested a hand near Zanzo's forearm, and the latter froze. "You can email it to me afterwards." He pulled up a nearby stool and perched on it. "Zanzo, is everything alright?"

Zanzo chuckled. "I'm not dying anytime soon. You'll have to tolerate me a little bit longer."

"That's not what I-" Macaron cleared his throat. "You've skipped three staff meetings in a row."

"We're just doing the same thing we've done all month. Checking in is redundant. It's not like there won't be a summary log tomorrow."

Time for Macaron to play his trump card. "Then I suppose the fact we've moved on to renovating the BRU-T4L is of no interest to you."

"Perhaps." Zanzo stroked his goatee in a more absent minded way as he looked off to the side. Not the reaction Macaron hoped for.

"It's like one of your, er, babies. Shouldn't you be more worried about what'll happen to it?"

Zanzo paused to side-eye Macaron. "You've never consulted me about modifying my other creations before. What's changed?"

“I wanted to ask you about a specific feature the BRU-T4L has," Macaron said after a long pause.

A brief spark lit up in Zanzo's eyes as he straightened his posture. In that moment, Macaron glimpsed the engineering intern who'd pestered him with robot design concepts all those years ago. "By all means, ask away."

  "Why does it have a 'baby rocking' feature? It stands out compared to everything else."

"Why not?" Zanzo waved dismissively. "So maybe a self indulgent thought slipped through the pipeline during my drafting. And maybe, I neglected to remove the resulting feature. It doesn't carry as much weight as you think it does."

"You like being rocked?" The image of Zanzo cradled by the BRU-T4L in a similar manner to that CUT-WAN popped into Macaron's mind. Odd and, as Chai would say, mildly cursed.

Zanzo's jaw dropped. "I- not necessarily."

"Would something like that help you destress?"

"I ALREADY SAID-" Zanzo's outburst cut off and he sank down into his chair, rubbing his face. He let out a sigh. "Don't patronize me for this. Please."

Since when did Zanzo ever say "please"? "Zanzo," Macaron began. "I promise I'm not making fun of you. My priority right now is finding a way to support you."

"To answer your previous question, rocking is one of my stims. I rarely do so at work because…" Macaron nodded to encourage Zanzo finishing his sentence. Except he let it hang.

A long silence passed between them. Macaron broke it. "I'm thinking maybe that feature could be incorporated into a robot which doesn't have saw-blade hands. While we may be focused on renovating our current product line, that doesn't mean we can't plan for the future. This could be an opportunity to create something beneficial."

The corner of Zanzo's mouth twitched. "It's not exciting, though. Are you sure anyone would invest in it?"

"SCR-UBs clean. CAR-11Es, er, carry stuff," Macaron explained. "What they do is simple, but necessary. Most of the time, that's all anyone needs."

[dragonuv3]

Arekkz Scrapheart and lore building an arms forger

First Picture drawn by the lovely @kobold-kurios​

All other images drawn by me.

So let me start this off by saying that I’ve never been THIS in depth with actually writing and drawing lore for a DnD character. Especially during a setting where magic (initially) is limited to clerics and paladins to a disaster in the first season.

Arekkz scrapheart is a Gnoll Artificer in the second season of Kobold’s Bards & Blades campaign. To describe him in a few words: driven, intelligent, exciteable, and intuitive. From his rural tribe to a big city to learn how to be an articifer, he’s managed to make a name for himself as a skilled artisan of the Stonecutter’s guild in Tulpio (the city both groups start in). He also is the sole proprieter of a shop called the Gnoll’n Arms.

Now getting into the main drive of this post.

Arekkz’s LOVED watching his people forge weapons ever since he was a pup, and took it upon himself to build his first makeshift weapon. And getting to the city of Tulpio, where he’s seen the people there try to replecate magic through alchemy and steampunk technology, his drive in life is to learn more about magic by “sciencing the shit out of it.”

Cue the MO for how he ends up making his weapons for people. Since I was building an artificer in a world without magic, the challenge would be to figure out certain limitations with how he earned his living, and how he cast spells in unconventional ways. I took a lot of inspiration from the usual aesthetics of gnoll weapons, and a lot from Austraila and Junkertown in Overwatch, while still trying to keep it classy enough for customers to want to come and get an excusive of Arekkz’s work. His trademark being bite indents made on the metal before the final treatment process.

The hardest part for me was to make the weapons he make seem almost like he got things from a junkyard and managed to make something not only functional, but aesthetically pleasing in a rough around the edges kind of way. The “boom stick” on the far right being a failure that didn’t mesh well. Not to mention I want to be able to explain just how they work in some instances without having to leave it to DM disgression. And I even started writing some notes about them in character.

Two of them I’m most proud of. First being the Spark Knife

Arekkz personal weapons are all able to help him with his special brand of spellcasting when not being exclusive to other alchemical components and mixtures (or specialized grenades). The Spark Blade in particular coming in a breakthrough for a personal project of his. A way to cast the Green-Flame Blade cantrip. The handle has compression switches on either side of the handle that causes a spark to emmit from just behind the blade that would ignite flammable vapors that (to the current session) Arekkz would spray and release from a vial.

The concept would actually help get an idea for how to make it work with a longer blade. In character, he had trouble replicating what he could do with the Spark Blade due to short swords and longswords either warping, losing sharpness, or not getting the right amoutn of destructive force needed while stress testing them. He ended up going back to the drawing board to figure out what about the Spark Blade worked, and he realized that the metal had enough mass and surface area to survive being used as a “spell focus”, and the materials used managed to keep it from falling apart.

With that in mind, he ended up forgoing the smaller swords and worked with a slab of metal to get a proper greatsword. And the result...

A successful prototype that survived multiple stress tests, and with it, finally given a name: “The Scrapyard Runt Mk.I” (A personal hommage to how HE started with forging). It’s still a work in process, but leaps and bounds farther than what he was able to do before. 

I’ll post more weapon sketches as we go deeper into the campaign, as Arekkz’ll probably be commissioned to do work for both HIS party and the Side A party that goes the day before us.

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (200/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball,  which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made  on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story takes place about 1000 years before  66 years after the events of Dragon Ball Z.

     [20 April, Age 850.  Toki Toki City.]  

In the Time Station, the Saiyan Earthling Mosh was locked in combat with corrupted Time Patrollers.  He fought valiantly, heedless of the odds as they turned against him.  

The Time Patrollers who were still on his side took inspiration from his courage and tenacity, but also his style.  Mosh was a show-off.   His tightly coiled hair was cut and dyed in a provocative fashion, and he dressed like a trendsetter instead of a warrior.  When he had a free moment in a battle, he used it to taunt his opponent, or to acknowledge friendlies who might be watching.  

This was not arrogance or contempt for the ways of martial arts.  Despite his outgoing personality, Mosh was very friendly and easygoing in public, and quite humble in private.   The flourishes and flexes he made in public were a front, a way to present an image of himself ahead of the real thing.  It lent him some confidence in a world where defeat and disaster could strike at any time.  

"Come on, for real," he said as he knocked out an Earthling fighter corrupted by Demigra's magic.  "If you all don't start trying harder, I'm gonna head out to the Time Plaza and see if I can find someone tougher.  Seriously, it's like you don't even want to take over the city."  

The situation was more dire than he made it sound, and he knew it.  The Time Patrol was made of up a wide variety of fighters across a broad range of skill and power levels.  There were a lot of warriors on the team who could defeat Mosh with ease, and it would be those who decided the outcome of the battle.   All Mosh could do was to fight as many of the lower-tier fighters to keep them out of the endgame.   If he could outlast them, then there was a chance he could lend a hand to the "big deal riders" as he liked to call them.   Trunks and Luffa were the first who came to mind, but there were others he respected as well, and he hoped they were doing all right.  

Cracking jokes during the battle was another way to ease his worried mind and focus on the matter before him.  

"You fought well, my friend," he said in a mock-serious voice as he dispatched a Namekian who worked on the janitorial staff.   "But fate had other plans the day she cast you against me in battle."  Mosh then made a humorous noise in place of a more traditional kiai shout.  

In spite of his levity, Mosh was a skillful fighter.  Indeed, it was a testament to his skill that he could be so playful during such a difficult battle.  But as he turned to face his next target, his face fell into despair.  

"The only joke I see here is you, Mosh," said Ravi.  

"Aw no..." Mosh said.   "Tell me this is some new technique of yours, Ravi."

Ravi was an Earthling graduate of the Neo-Crane School.  His fighting uniform was made with iridescent fabric to suit his own aesthetic, but the cut and color of the dogi was chosen to honor his master, the legendary Chiaotzu.  But now, the eldritch purple fog that surrounded his body indicated that he now served the forces of Demigra.  

"I don't need a new technique to defeat the likes of you," Ravi sneered.   He raised his left hand in front of his face and set his jaw.  

"Babe, don't do this!" Mosh pleaded, but there was no stopping him.  

"Kaio-ho!" Ravi shouted, and a beam of red light launched from the edge of his left hand.   Mosh only had time to cross his arms in front of his face to block the attack.   Dodging wasn't an option here.  There were too many fighters in the area, and many of them would have been seriously hurt if they caught one of Ravi's more powerful blasts.  

When the smoke cleared, Mosh was mostly unharmed, save for some singes on his clothes and the exposed skin on his arms.   He looked up from behind his arms and nodded.   "All right," he said with a cocky nod of his head.  "All right, we can do this.   You just get it out of your system then.  Just go on ahead and let it all out."

"You're pathetic, Ravi said.  "You're too cowardly to fight back, and your compassion for these weaklings makes you an easy target.   Kaio-ho!"

The red blast hit Mosh again, and he stood firm.   "Oh, you're talking trash now, is that it?" he said with a smirk.  "Demigra thinks you're gonna get me all worked up because you say all that hurtful stuff?  Quit playing, Ravi, you know me better than that."

"I know you're going to fall because you're too frightened to use your true power, Saiyan," Ravi said harshly.   "And in a fight like this, anything less will bring you to your doom."

He fired the Kaio-ho again, and again, and again.   Mosh blocked each  shot, but they were beginning to take their toll on his stamina.  By now, most of his cavalier facade was wiped away.  

"That's a low blow, Ravi," Mosh said as he gasped for breath.  "No.   It's low of Demigra for forcing you to use that against me."

"A Super Saiyan would brush of this kind of attack like it was nothing," Ravi taunted.   "But you can't do it, can you, Mosh?"

"You know it's not like that," Mosh insisted.  

"Then prove it," Ravi said.   "Or were you lying that night when you held me close and told me why you're so afraid to try?"

That touched a nerve, one that might have ordinarily sent Mosh into a blind rage.  And this would have been a strange sight to behold, since Mosh was well-known for his coolness under fire.   Even so, if Mosh had cut loose, it might have helped turn the tide for Chronoa's forces, at least for the moment.  

But the target of Mosh's unbridled fury would have been Ravi, and no matter how upset he was, it was impossible for Mosh to see that man as an enemy, no matter how hard his ki blasts hit, no matter what terrible things Demigra forced him to say.  

In the heat of the moment, Mosh could only see the man he cherished more than anyone else.  The man who had seen through his laid-back-class-clown act and accepted him unconditionally.   The man he was too nervous to call his boyfriend but they both understood that it was a big word for both of them and they could figure it out together.  

But the Saiyan heart had to send that passion somewhere, and if Mosh would not channel his rage into battle, then it would paralyze him completely.   He was so furious that he failed to guard himself against Ravi's next strike.   Nor did he sense the other corrupted Time Patrollers who had been sneaking up from behind.   They all fired together, and Mosh was finally taxed to his limit.  

He fell, and Ravi scoffed at him as he and the other corrupted Patrollers left to find their next target.   If Mosh had been conscious, he would have been chilled to the bone to hear his lover act with such cruel spite.   Mercifully, he lay there unmoving, oblivious to the battle around him.  

Unmercifully, this peace did not last long.  A purple aura began to appear over Mosh's body, and he slowly, painfully rose to his feet again.  His eyes flashed red, and his only thoughts were of his obedience to Demigra, and how best to fight for the Demon God's cause.

*******

     [12 September, Age 778.  Earth.]  

In West City, the tide had turned.    Luffa's latest mission for the Time Patrol had sent her back to Earth to repel an invasion from three of its greatest enemies.    Luffa had fought them off with ease, until their reinforcements arrived in the form of Vegeta, Gohan, and Gotenks.   While confident she could win the battle, Luffa worried that it would take too long, which would keep her away from Toki Toki City during its hour of need.   But now, she had reinforcements of her own, in the form of Son Goku.  

Now, the two of them battled not only Cell and Majin Buu, not only Vegeta, Gohan, and Gotenks, but several Cell Juniors, as well as  dozens of ki ghosts created by Gotenks.   In the parkland surrounding a defunct amusement park, Luffa and Goku leaped and flew in every direction as they sought to outmaneuver the swarm of powerful enemies in their midst.  

She had met Goku in past Time Patrol missions, but none of these had been "official", due to the nature of correcting altered segments of history.   Each time Luffa met Goku in the past, he would have no memory of their prior encounters.   But this time was different.   This time, Goku knew Luffa by name, and he had been briefed by the Supreme Kai of Time herself.   Luffa wanted to know more, but it was difficult enough to keep up with the battle.   It would be folly to get close enough to Goku to make conversation.  

"Can you hear me, Luffa?"

"Huh?"  was all Luffa could say.  

Saiyans possessed telepathic abilities, but it was tricky to use them across distances while in combat.   It was usually more practical to just call out.   And yet, she could hear Goku's voice anyway, even though he was surrounded by exploding ki ghosts.  

"Hey, it's me, Goku!" he said.  "I'm talking to you through King Kai.  He's a lot better at this sort of thing than I am, and this way there's less chance of Cell or Vegeta overhearing us!"

"King Kai?" Luffa asked aloud.  

"Sure!" Goku said.   "I was training on his planet in Otherworld when the Supreme Kai of Time came to find us."

"And that's how you got involved in all of this?" Luffa asked.  Majin Buu nearly caught her with an energy beam, but she avoided it in time.  

"Yep," Goku said.  "I guess you could say we've been deputized!  Right, King Kai?"

Now she heard another voice, anxious and motherly in tone.   "Goku, this isn't a game!" he said.  "The Supreme Kai of Time is a very important person.  I cannot stress how sacred this mission is."  

"Aw, c'mon, King Kai," Goku protested.   "The real battle is up in Toki Toki City, wherever that is--"

"He's right, Kakarot," Luffa said.   "This is no game.   That purple crap is the magic Demigra uses to control his victims.   I don't know how he got Cell, Buu, and Frieza here, but your sons--"

"Frieza?" Goku asked.  "You mean he's here, too?!"

"I took him out first!" Luffa explained.   "Then he must have wandered off."

"But I can't sense his energy..." Goku said.  "Frieza can't suppress it like we can, so he shouldn't be able to hide that way."

"The point is that we can free the others if we hit them hard enough," Luffa said.  "If one of us can keep them busy for a second--"

"Got it," Goku said.  "Let's start with Gohan."

That didn't suit Luffa at all.   "Like hell!" she said.   "Gotenks is the one spitting out all these stupid ghosts.  We take him out and things will get a lot simpler for us!  Or Cell, or Buu!"

"Nah, Gotenks isn't a problem," Goku said.   "And I've fought Kid Buu before.  Trust me, he's a lot easier to handle this way.  We should save him for last."

She was about to remind him that she had fought Kid Buu as well, but then she remembered that he wasn't aware of this.  Still, it irritated her how casually he had taken charge of the situation.  

"And how are you going to get at Gohan when there's twenty bogies zipping around him?" Luffa demanded.  

"Heh!   Check this out!" Goku said.  

Luffa was about to ask what he was talking about, when suddenly she saw multiple Gokus all over the battle field.  Majin Buu rushed after the closest one to him, and when this Goku did nothing to defend himself, Luffa rushed to help him, only for Goku to vanish when Buu reached him.  

The same thing happened everywhere else.   Two ki ghosts exploded in a mid-air collision as they tried to catch one of these illusions of Goku.  Vegeta attacked one illusion after another, in what seemed like an attempt to brute-force his way to the real thing.    

Luffa searched for Gohan to see if she could get a clear shot at him, and found that he was coming to her.  His mind, though addled by Demigra's magic, was still sharp enough to realize that Luffa was the only target he could be sure of, and so he focused on her.     She prepared to guard against his attack, but just as he closed in on her, another Goku appeared alongside him, which Gohan ignored.  

This Goku struck Gohan in the jaw, sending him hurtling into the ground.   All around Luffa, the illusions of Goku vanished, leaving the real thing floating next to her.  

"Not bad," Luffa said.  

"Guess they don't have the Afterimage Technique where you come from," Goku said.  

"I guess not," Luffa admitted.

"Check on him, will you?" Goku asked her.  In spite of the harsh expression of his Super Saiyan form, there was a hint of concern in his eyes.   "You can tell if someone's snapped out of it, can't you?  I want to make sure he's all right."

"Of course," Luffa said.   "But it might take a second..."

They separated as another group of ki ghosts flew after them.   Luffa took note of Gohan's position, but didn't go to him right away.    As she prepared her next moves, Goku continued to speak to her through King Kai's telepathic link.  

"Are you sure you're a thousand years old?"  He asked.

"I think it's more like eleven hundred," Luffa replied.  "Chronoa told you that part too, huh?"

"You actually call her by her name?" King Kai asked, horrified.  

"She told me to," Luffa muttered.  

"It's just that you don't look much older than Gohan," Goku went on.  "I was expecting some wrinkly old lady."

"The Dragon Balls transported me through time, Kakarot," Luffa explained.   "I'm only twenty-four."

"Well I'll be," Goku said.  

There was a Cell Junior between her and Gohan.   Luffa simply barreled into him, and drove her fist through his torso.    The creature burst apart an instant later.  When she finally reached Gohan, she knelt down beside him and put her hand on his chest to make sure he was breathing.  

"How is he?" Goku asked.  

"He's free of Demigra's influence," Luffa said.  "Hold on..."

A ki ghost almost got the drop on her, so she scooped up Gohan and carried him away before they could be caught in the blast.    

"You really leveled this guy," Luffa said once she had an opening.  

"You told me we had to hit 'em hard," Goku said.  

"Yeah, but he's your brat," Luffa said.   "I thought you'd hold back a little or something."  

"Nah, I know how much my boys can handle," Goku said.   "Same with Vegeta and Trunks."

She tried not to think of her own son, whom she had left for dead in the distant past.   "I thought you said Gotenks wasn't a problem," she griped as she dodged more of the ki ghosts.  

"Don't worry," Goku said.   "His fusion should run out any minute now."

"Well maybe I'm tired of waiting!" she said as she dove after the boy.  

"Luffa, don't!" Goku called, but she didn't reply.  

"You may as well let her handle it her way, Goku," King Kai told him.   "If the Supreme Kai of Time vouches for her, she must know what she's doing.   Besides, it can't be any worse than when Vegeta goes into business for himself, right?"

"That ain't the problem!" Goku told him.   He spun his body in mid-flight to avoid a tricky firing pattern from Vegeta and Buu.   "She's still carrying my son!"

*******

Luffa heard what Goku was saying, but she didn't bother to explain herself.   She couldn't leave Gohan lying on the ground, not when Gotenks was throwing ki blasts in every direction.  Luckily, none of their enemies were going wild enough to destroy the planet.   Luffa doubted this was out of any concern on Demigra's part.   More likely, the Demon God just didn't want to exhaust his puppets' energy before his agenda was complete.  She had seen similar tactics on dozens of alien battlefields.  Conquerors preferred to capture territory with as little damage as possible.   As much as they loved overwhelming force, they had to wield it carefully, or they would end up ruling an empire of ashes. So Demigra might spare the Earth, but sparing Gohan was another matter.

That left her at a serious disadvantage, since she had to carry the young man and fight at the same time.  She couldn't help Goku against the others, but she could distract Gotenks long enough to give him some room to maneuver.  

She had met Goten and Trunks before, and she had seen them perform the Fusion Technique in past Time Patrol missions.   Beerus has defeated Gotenks with ease, which came as no surprise, but what interested Luffa was that the boys separated again shortly afterward.   Goku may have been content to wait out the clock, but if there was a way to hurry things along, she was more than happy to try it.  

"Give it up, lady!" Gotenks called as he and his squad of ki ghosts chased after her.   "You don't stand a chance against the Grim Reaper of Justice!   And holding all that dead weight in your hands just makes you a bigger target!"

"You haven't hit a thing since you started this fight, you little twit!" Luffa called back.   "I only grabbed your brother to make things a little easier for you!"

"What?  How dare you!   Take...!  This!" Gotenks shouted.  

At least twenty ghosts converged around her, and Luffa allowed them to box her in.   She continued to fly away from the rest of the battle, and Gotenks followed to see how his attack played out.  

And then, over the skies of West City, all twenty ghosts exploded with a loud crack.    In celebration of his achievement, Gotenks started to wave his arms around and shuffle his feet in a victory boogie.  

"What what?  Yeaaaahhh!   That's what you get!" he jeered.  "And if you're not down with Gotenks, I got two words for ya!"

"Try again."

Gotenks gasped at the voice that called out from the smoke that billowed around the explosion.   As it cleared, there was Luffa, still holding Gohan in her arms, and completely unharmed.    

"B-but how?!" Gotenks asked.   "This is completely unfair!"

"You overplayed your hand, kid," Luffa explained.   "Sending that many ghosts after a single target?   Their combined power might have been enough to hurt me, but they got in each other's way.   If you can arrange them into the right formation, like I just did, you can use their blasts to deflect each other."

"Huh?" Gotenks said.   "But... how could you know that?  I didn't even think of it, and I'm the master of the Super Ghost Kamikaze Attack!"

"Oh, please," Luffa snorted.  "Back in my day, every Saiyan child knew how to make ki ghosts.   Most of them couldn't make them strong enough to win a real fight with that trick, but I had a lot more power to work with, and I made sure to work out all the angles."

"You're bluffing!" Gotenks protested.  "There's no way you can--"

Luffa began raising her ki and then opened her lips to release a white vapor.   It coalesced quickly, taking on the same shape as the ghosts Gotenks had been using.  But then the head of the ghost took shape, and it molded itself into a replica of Luffa instead.  

"Neeehhhh!" the ghost screeched.  "Amateur hour is over!"

"Y-you stole my move!" Gotenks protested.  "That's... that's plagiarism!"

"Really?" Luffa taunted.   "Is that ghost bit the only thing you can do?   Maybe you should come up with something new. Build some variety!"

"Oh that is it!" Gotenks snarled.   He tensed his muscles, and began to charge his  ki.   Like Luffa before, his yellow hair glowed like a torch, and his aura intensified.  "Your bootleg ghost doesn't scare me!   And I'm just getting warmed up!  This isn't even my final form!"

"Well that sounds interesting," Luffa said with a grin.   "Show me, boy!   Show me what you can really do!"

He obliged, and his body began to crackle with lightning.  Luffa could sense the sharp increase in his power, and it seemed as though Gotenks' boasts weren't all hot air.    His ki continued to rise, and just when it seemed like he was on the verge of something truly remarkable--

Luffa sent her ghost to tackle him, and it exploded on contact.   Gotenks was dazed, but not seriously hurt.  He stumbled in the air, but managed to avoid falling.  

"That was a dirty trick!" he shouted.   "And I-- wait, where'd you go?"

While he was still recovering from the blast, Luffa had slipped around him, using the lingering ki of the explosion to hide from his senses.  As he turned to find her, she threw a kick, and caught him square in the gut with one of her black combat boots.  

Gotenks made a loud gasp as all the breath was knocked out of his lungs, and he dropped to the ground like a stone.  He bounced as he landed, and his body separated into two boys in mid-air. Luffa found this extremely satisfying.  

The only trouble was that they were still conscious, and still tainted with Demigra's wicked spell.   Luffa landed beside them with a loud thud, and quickly laid Gohan on the ground as she moved in to check on them.  

"Wha--?" asked Goten.  

Trunks was similarly confused.  And since neither of them was in their Super Saiyan form, it made it that much easier  for Luffa to get the drop on them.   She felled Trunks with a chop to the shoulder, then knelt low and punched Goten in the stomach before he could get his bearings.    

They both collapsed, and the purple energy faded away.   Like Gohan, they were both free.  

The only trouble now was that it left Luffa with three bodies to protect instead of just one.    And she had left Goku in a serious bind.

She looked back at the part of the park where they had been fighting, and saw a yellow streak moving through the sky, furiously dodging several others.  

"Maybe I should take a second to catch my breath," she said to herself.  "And this way I can get a look at what Kakarot can really do."

*******

"What is she doing?" King Kai asked.  "That's gratitude for you!   You come all this way to help her win this fight, and now she's just standing there waiting for you to finish it by yourself!"

Goku blocked a kick and then ducked a pair of ki blasts before he responded to this.  "No, that ain't it at all," he said with a satisfied smile.   "She wants to see me in action.   She'll jump in soon enough."

"Are you sure?" King Kai asked.  "I mean, the Supreme Kai of Time did vouch for her, but even so..."

"See how she's staying close to the boys?" Goku asked.   "And she took care of Gotenks as soon as she could.   She didn't like to see a couple of kids being used like that, and that makes her okay in my book."

"But that still leaves you to take on four Cell Juniors, Cell, Majin Buu, and Vegeta!" King Kai sputtered.

"Don't forget Frieza," Goku said.  "He must still be around somewhere."

"Well, I can't find him anywhere," King Kai said.  "And I'd say you've got enough on your plate as it is!"

"Ask her to stay put a little longer," Goku said.  "Tell her I have a way to get Vegeta and the boys to safety."

"You're going to use Instant Transmission to take them someplace safe?" King Kai asked.  

"Nope," Goku said.  

With that, he dropped to the ground and threw out his hands, releasing a ki wave in all directions.   This was done mainly to get the Cell Juniors off his back, but it also caught Vegeta by surprise, and left Majin Buu wide open.  He then dashed straight for Buu, leading with his fist.  

"Ka..." he said in a low voice.  

Buu recovered quickly, and stood his ground.    He held up his hands and began charging an energy blast of his own to counter Goku's attack.

"Me..."

As Goku flew away from him, Vegeta began to give chase.   The Cell Juniors did the same, although they were too slow and too far away to intercept Goku in time to stop him.

"Ha..."

By now, it was apparent to anyone watching that Goku was charging the blast through his feet.   This special variation of the Kamehameha was rare in combat.   Goku had used it once in battle with Piccolo at the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament, but there had been few eyewitnesses to that epic battle, and fewer still who would have understood the true significance of the maneuver.  

"Me..."

Cell recognized it at once.  His creator, Dr. Gero, had used miniature spy robots to record and analyze Goku's battles, including the bout with Piccolo on Papaya Island.   The data was incorporated into Cell's programming, to the point where he remembered the battle better than those who actually saw it.  

As Goku closed in Majin Buu, Vegeta began to close in on Goku.   And then, suddenly, Goku vanished.

"Ha!"

Demigra's forces were aware of the Instant Transmission technique, but none of them were prepared for this application.  Instead of teleporting to a blind spot to attack from an unconventional angle, Goku instead reappeared only inches from Majin Buu's chin, and pointing in the opposite direction.    

And so, where Buu was prepared to block a punch, he instead took a Kamehameha wave in the face, at pointblank range.  As Vegeta reached out to attack Goku, he suddenly found Goku blasting toward him on a collision course.  

As the punch connected, Goku continued on his path, angling into the ground below, where he immediately leaped into one of the Cell Juniors.   With a wild howl, Goku delivered a chop to the creature's neck, decapitating it in a single blow.  The creature exploded into a cloud of ash and smoke a moment later.  

Vegeta recovered, but Goku didn't allow him a moment to get his footing.  He began firing ki blasts in rapid succession, keeping Vegeta off-balance as he flew towards him for another assault.  

"Come on, Vegeta!" he shouted.   "You can do better than this!"

But Vegeta was in no mood to try.  His keen fighting instincts had already been dulled by Demigra's magic, and Goku's onslaught had left him dazed.  To Goku's frustration, Vegeta could only block, which left him open to a simple throw.   He grabbed his fellow Saiyan by the seams in his chest armor and launched him into the path of an oncoming Cell Junior.   When Vegeta moved to avoid the collision, he left an opening, and Goku teleported into position to exploit it.   The sound of Goku's boot colliding with Vegeta's jaw was like a thunderclap.  

With a moment to spare, Goku fired ki blasts to keep the remaining Cell Juniors and Majin Buu at bay, and then he scooped up Vegeta and made his play.  

"Kinto'un!" he called out.    

As his enemies converged on his position, he raised his fingers to his forehead and vanished.  

*******

A few hundred meters away, Goku appeared at Luffa's side, still cradling Vegeta's unconscious body in his arms.  

"All right, get them out of here," Luffa said, "I'll hold the rest of them off."

"Thanks," Goku said, "but that's not the plan.  We'll take 'em together."

"And leave these guys out in the open?" Luffa protested.  

"Don't worry," Goku said.  "I've already arranged a little transportation."

Before she could ask, a yellow cloud descended onto the parkland.  It was no larger than a man, and it seemed too thick and dense to be made of water vapor.  Like a living thing, the cloud positioned itself at Goku's side.  

"Pile 'em on," Goku said.  "Starting with Gohan.  Hurry up!"

Luffa didn't understand what he meant, but lifted Gohan off the ground anyway.  Goku nagged her until she finally laid the young man on the cloud itself, and to her surprise, he did not fall through it.   Instead, he lay atop the cloud like it was a large floating cushion.  

"Good," Goku said as he laid Vegeta across Gohan's body.  "Vegeta can't ride Kinto'un, but he'll stay on if he's on top of Gohan.  Now for Goten and Trunks."

Luffa didn't understand any of it, so she kept an eye out for their enemies while Goku finished stacking Saiyans on top of the magic cloud.   At last, he was satisfied enough and send the cloud on its way.  

"Better take these guys to my house, Kinto'un!" Goku said.   "Chi-Chi'll know what to do with 'em!"

And the cloud suddenly took off into the sky, carrying its passengers like a miniature airplane.  

"What the hell was that thing?!" Luffa asked.  

"That was Kinto'un," Goku said simply.   "I'll explain later.   Right now we still gotta finish off the rest of them."

"Dibs on Majin Buu," Luffa said.  

"Aw, come on!" Goku said.  

"I've fought Cell four times already," Luffa said.   "I'm bored with him.   Besides, you've got a score to settle with him, don't you?"

Goku slammed his left fist into his right hand.   "Well, now that you mention it," he said more seriously, "yeah, I guess we do have some unfinished business."

"That's the spirit," Luffa said.  "Let's go."

*******

There was still the matter of the three Cell Juniors, but as Goku closed in on Cell, the creature's children moved to intercept.   This suited Goku, as he felt that he was leaving most of the work to Luffa.  

Years earlier, Cell had created a brood of Cell Juniors to attack Goku and his friends, in order to provoke Gohan into unleashing his full power.   It had frustrated Goku that he had been too exhausted and weak to put up more of a fight against the little monsters.  But that was before his training in Otherworld, before his battles with Majin Buu and Beerus the Destroyer.  Though he looked very much the same as he did when he fought Cell a dozen years ago, he was much stronger, and he proved it by taking on all three mini-Cells at once.  

With a furious yell, he struck one of them in the chest, stopping him in his tracks.  

Then he flipped in mid-air, and caught another one with a knee-strike.  

As he righted himself, Goku swung his right arm backward and struck the third with a back-elbow to the nose.  

While all three of them were stunned, he held out his hands toward two of the Cell Juniors and stared intently at the third.   With a sharp kiai shout, he fired white-hot streams of ki from both palms and his mouth.   The Cell Juniors were vaporized instantly.  

"Bravo, Goku," Cell called out to him.   He had uncrossed his arms to clap sarcastically.   "You've grown much stronger since our last meeting.   Perhaps you should've taken that senzu bean back then when I offered you the chance."

"I don't know how you came back, Cell," Goku shouted back.   "But you should know that you're no match for me now."

"Oh, I disagree, Goku," Cell replied.   "Your Super Saiyan sidekick over there did a real number on me before you showed up.  Given the chance, I'm sure she could have killed me in a one-on-one encounter.   Luckily, I had some help in this venture.   Your own son lent me a senzu bean to restore my injuries, making me stronger than ever before."

"It won't be enough, Cell," Goku said darkly.   Then he smiled.   "And this time, Gohan and the others ain't around to bail you out."

"True," Cell said.  "I did need their help, much as it pains me to admit it.   But now, their usefulness has ended.   Or did you think I was just standing here watching for no reason at all?"

Goku reached out with his senses, searching for some clue as to what Cell was talking about.   When he noticed it, his eyes went wide with shock.  "No!" he gasped.   "That energy!   You couldn't have!"

Cell chuckled as he raised his fists, which now crackled with swirls of white light.   "Oh, I have," he said triumphantly.   "Your little girlfriend up there really did a number on me, Goku, so I knew I would have to get creative if I was to have any chance of defeating her.   Fortunately for me, I am the perfect being, made from the cells of the greatest fighters in the universe, including your own.   So of course I would know the secret of your Spirit Bomb technique."

"That's impossible!" King Kai said, though only Goku could hear him at the moment.   "I invented that technique!   It can only be wielded by a righteous fighter, and against a wicked enemy!  Even if Cell could gather the energy, any Spirit Bomb he made from it would have no effect on you, Goku!  It'd probably just explode in his face!"

"You summoned energy from the Sun and all the life on Earth," Goku surmised.  "But you didn't channel it into a Spirit Bomb.   You just absorbed it into your own body."

Cell grinned.  "I should have known you'd figure it out, Goku!" he said.   He held up his hands and watched the energy dance on his fingertips.   "I was born with a complete knowledge of your battle with Vegeta.  You never had the chance to deploy your Spirit Bomb against him.   The best you could do was to transfer a sliver of its power to Krillin.  And when he accidentally launched it at Gohan, he was able to bounce it away, but Vegeta could not.  Oh, I've analyzed that battle countless times during my incubation underground.  Forming the Spirit Bomb itself would be tricky for me, but assimilating the energy?   Well it's no different from when I absorbed the bio-extract from those pathetic Earthlings in my imperfect form.  I knew it could work, but I never had the opportunity to try this before.   It was never worth the risk, but now that I've fallen under the influence of this... Demigra person.  Well, it seems I'm much more open to experimentation."

"Well, you've definitely got my interest, Cell," Goku said.   "Maybe Luffa shouldn't have been so hasty to call dibs on Majin Buu, but I still don't think this will be enough for you to win."

"By all means," Cell said.   "Let us put it to the test...!"

With that, the battle was joined.   Cell rushed at Goku with great speed, but Goku was ready for him, and blocked his initial strikes.  Both of them took to the skies, and there were thunderclaps all over the parkland they fought.  

*******

     [12 September Age 778.  Toki Toki City.]  

As the battle in Toki Toki City raged on, one Time Patroller had managed to stay out of the fray.  

She was a clerk, and while her service record indicated a substantial battle power, her usual duties involved processing supply requisitions and maintenance schedules.  When the fighting began, her supervisor was one of the first in the vicinity to be taken over by Demigra's magic.   Utter chaos followed, and all of the drills and battle preparation seminars had become completely useless.  

Cut off from anyone who could help her or give her useful instructions, the Time Patroller known as No. 44 fell back on her instincts, and struck out on her own.  

She had no real plan, other than to find a safe place to consider her next move.  Fortunately for her, there was enough action in the city that no one seemed interested in pursuing her.   And so as long as she stayed out of sight and didn't draw any attention to herself, she would be all right.  

44 had studied the layout of her office complex very carefully, and knew of a number of service corridors and access tunnels.  She followed them to a maintenance hallway built under the street, which led to the boiler room of one of the apartment complexes.  The further along she went, the fewer signs of life she found.   Everyone was moving into the streets to fight in the open.  Even the workmen who used the service tunnels when she had explored them in the past were long gone today.  

She didn't know what frightened her more: Fighting one of Demigra's unwilling minions, or becoming one herself.   The last thing she wanted to find in the tunnels was a workman glowing purple with a hateful red glow in his eyes.  Even as it seemed less likely that she would run into anything like that, the dread in 44's heard seemed to weigh on her like a heavy burden.  

At last, she reached her destination, and had to ascend above the street level.  It was still safer in the buildings, and the apartment complexes seemed to be nearly deserted, but 44 was still anxious about it.  As she climbed the stairwell, she could hear low rumblings from outside, and worried that the entire building might collapse around her.  Even the loud echo of her footsteps on the concrete was unnerving to her.  She considered flying, but decided against it, in case anyone might sense her ki.  

She reached the 15th floor and hastily moved through the halls, counting off the room numbers on the doors as she went.   When she found 1557, she took a deep breath and used an access key she had misappropriated from one of the maintenance crews.  She had held on to it just in case, but had never used it until now.  If it didn't work, she would have to risk forcing the door, and she didn't like that idea at all.  

The gentle 'click' inside the door jamb was almost sublime against the rush of her pulse and the din of the battle outside.  Holding her breath, she pushed open the door, and stepped inside.  

There was nothing particularly important to be found.  It was an apartment, no different from any of the others in the four complexes in Toki Toki City.  44 noticed how similar the architecture was to her own quarters, which made the decor seem a bit more surreal, like she had returned to her own apartment and found someone had replaced and rearranged everything.  

The main section of the apartment was the kitchen/dining area on the left, and the living room on the right.   The kitchen was a cluttered with utensils and cookware, a sort of "organized mess".  Yellow towels hung near the sink, and a pile of recipe cards lay in the corner.   The refrigerator was bare.  There was a magnet on the door which might have been used to pin something up like a note or a photo, but it was there alone, making the emptiness of the space seem even more profound.  

The living room was decorated with a more apparent sense of aesthetic.   A pair of canvases hung on the wall, each coated in black and red pigments.  The compositions were reminiscent of tree branches in winter, but the color scheme made them look more like blood vessels in deep space.  The furniture was also in various shades of black and red, including a candy dish made of red-tinted glass.   This was filled with peppermints.  Several dog-eared issues of "CAR" magazine lay on the sofa.

44 thought she would feel more at ease in this place, but instead she felt like an intruder.  After a minute or two, she decided to explore the rest of the apartment.  

The first bedroom she found was practically empty.  There was only a bed and a wardrobe.   Dirty laundry lay scattered on the floor, and there were dried bloodstains on the white sheets.   The yellow pants and black compression shirts made it plain that this was where Luffa slept, or at least tried to sleep.  

44 stood in the empty room for a while, sat on the bed.  She hugged her knees and rocked back and forth for a while, trying to shut out the sounds of battle in the distance.   She felt foolish for coming here, and yet she didn't know where else to go.  She had only met Luffa a few times, but she was all 44 had in Toki Toki City.   And in her fear, that tenuous connection seemed to justify almost anything.  

Eventually, she grew frustrated enough to get up from the bed and look around.  The second bedroom was more properly furnished.   The four-poster bed was black with red sheets and a red-and-black quilt.  Several plush animals were piled up in the bed, and it was because of these that 44 did not notice that someone was sleeping there.  

"Oh!" she yelped once she finally spotted Luffa's roommate.  She had heard of Jayncho, but had never met her before.  The Majin woman lay on her back, oblivious to the world around her, or the terrible battle that raged less than one hundred meters away.  Nor had she been disturbed by 44's entry  into the apartment, or by 44 turning on the light to explore her bedroom.  

44 knew that Majins were sound sleepers, and that their sleep cycles were long and strange.  The Time Patrol had them on an unusual duty shift for this reason, but by now, every other Majin in the city was surely responding to the attack.   And yet Jayncho was still asleep.  

"I... I'm sorry," 44 said.   She didn't know why she was talking to Jayncho when she knew she couldn't hear the words.  On some level, 44 supposed that she expected the Majin to be awake by now, and couldn't accept the fact that she was sleeping through everything that was happening.   On some other level, 44 found herself envying Jayncho.  At least she had a measure of peace that 44 couldn't find.  

She backed away from Jayncho's bed and sat down on the floor, leaning against the far wall, near the door.   There, she buried her face in her hands.  "I don't know what I expected," she said.  "I just... I didn't know what to do or where to go, or who to turn to, so I came here.   And I knew Luffa wouldn't be here.  I can't sense her energy, so she must be off fighting someplace else.   Or she's... already dead..."

The mere thought of it brought 44 to tears, and she regretted ever saying it out loud.   "What a joke," she groaned.  "I came all this way, just for her, and... what if I never see her again?  What if this is it?   What if I end up dying in all of this?  She'll never even know... I should have told her when I had the chance, but I couldn't.  I mean... how do you even bring up something like that?"

Jayncho made a quiet snore, but gave no other response.  

"I guess that's what made me want to come here.   I thought... if she's still out there, then she might swing by here eventually, and I could stay here and wait for her, or leave a note or something... Gahhh... I don't know.  I just thought, this might be my only chance.   And she might hate me for it, but at least she would know...  But she's not here and you are, and I don't know what the point of any of it was!"

44 covered her face with her hands and leaned into her knees and screamed with frustration.  "She might hate me," she grumbled.   "Oh, sure, like she wouldn't hate me right now.   A war shows up on my doorstep and I run away like a coward.  I'm pretty sure that's doesn't win much respect with Saiyans, does it?   Arrgh... I should just walk outside and hope a stray energy blast puts me out of my misery."

She leaned over and lay down on the carpet, curled up in a fetal position.  As she lay there, counting the red fibers and struggling with her own fear and shame, 44 noticed strands of brown hair.    She held one up and sat up to look at it more closely.  

"This is fur from a Saiyan tail," she said after a moment.  "I mean, it has to be, right?  So... I guess she must have spent some time in here, huh?"

She looked over at Jayncho, who did not move or respond.  

"She must talk to you a lot," 44 said.   "Maybe I should ask you about her when you're awake."

"No, she only really hangs out in here while I'm asleep."

44 was so startled by the sound of another voice that she nearly slammed the back of her head into the wall.  It took her a moment to realize it was Jayncho speaking, and then she blurted out: "You were awake this whole time?!"

"No, I'm not awake," Jayncho said.  

44 got up and stepped closer to the bed.  Jayncho's eyes were closed, and she did indeed appear to be sleeping.  It was as if she had said nothing.   Then she noticed something moving on Jayncho's bare shoulder.  

There was a second mouth on her skin.   And it was moving.  

"Sometimes I can hear things while I'm asleep," it said.   "And I talk back.  It's like a dream."

"I'm sorry," 44 said.   "I had no idea... I didn't mean to disturb you, and... I..."

"You're not bothering me,"  Jayncho said.   "You couldn't wake me up if you tried.  Luffa can't either.   I think she likes to talk to me while I sleep, because she's not comfortable talking about her problems with other people.  It's easier for her to say things to someone who won't hear it."

"But you can hear me," 44 said.  

"Sure, but Luffa doesn't know that.  And I forget it all when I wake up."

"This... this is so weird," 44 said.  

"You're wrong about her, you know." Jayncho said.  

"What?"

"Luffa, I mean.  She doesn't hate you.  She gets scared too.   I think she'd understand whatever you're going through.  And whatever it is you want to tell her, I don't think she'd hate you for that either."

"How can you be so sure?" 44 asked.  She sounded hopeful when she said it, even though she wanted to make it sound skeptical.  

"She's nice to me," Jayncho said.   "A lot of people around here think I'm weird.   I guess I am weird.  I'm not trying to be.   No one wanted to live with me in this apartment.  That never bothered me much, but Luffa seemed okay about it.  I don't think she had anywhere else to go, but she wasn't complaining about it or anything.   And she baked me a cake."

"What does cake have to do with it?" 44 asked.

"I like cake," Jayncho said simply.  "I don't know.  She gets along with me, sort of.  Most people wouldn't even try, and I didn't notice it until she moved in with me.   So... maybe it's the same with you.  Give her a chance."

44 didn't know what to say to that.   There was a long silence in the bedroom, interrupted only by the rumble of the battle outside.

"Unless you stole her stuff or something like that," Jayncho finally added.   "I mean, maybe she would hate you.  I don't know what you might have done to her."

"I didn't do anything to her," 44 insisted.  

"Good, then it should be fine." Jayncho said.   "Is she here?  Go ask her if she'll bake another cake.  It makes the whole apartment smell good."

"She's not here," 44 said.  "It... Look, you really need to wake up. Something terrible is going on outside, and they need your help..."

But as 44 spoke, she noticed the mouth on Jayncho's shoulder was gone.  She called out to Jayncho a few times, but there was no response.

And so 44 sat down by the wall, and tried to ignore the noises outside.

*******

While 44 took refuge in Luffa's apartment, Trunks was fighting his way to the retaining wall that separated the city from the massive hourglass that floated in the center.  Standing along the wall were several Time Patrollers under Demigra's control, and from their black cloaks and arcane chanting, Trunks was certain that it was part of Demigra's plan. When several Saiyan Time Patrollers moved to intercept him, Trunks was sure he was on the right track.  

"Back off," Trunks said.  "I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt us?!" Laddis scoffed.  "You think you're something special?  We're Super Saiyans just like you, only you're outnumbered, chump!"

"I know that," Trunks said.   "So when I beat you, I won't be able to do it as quickly and painlessly as I took out the others."

He didn't bother to explain the rest.  Talking to them was pointless, since there was only one way he knew of to break the spell.  Trunks moved so fast that they didn't realize what he was doing.   He cut a wide arc with his sword, but didn't actually hit anything.   Instead, a yellow glow appeared along the path of his strike, and it spread outward like a ripple in a pond.   When it made contact with three of Laddis' group, they were knocked back and dropped out of the sky like stones.  

Even as this was happening, Trunks twirled and spun towards the rest of them.  He caught another one with his boot, then another with the pommel of his sword, then he spun around and drove his elbow into Laddis' face.  

This wasn't enough to bring them all down, however, and so he brought the edge of his sword into play.  Like a master chef, he weaved and slashed and darted around each of them.   To an outside observer, it seemed as though he was cutting them all to ribbons.  

But when he was finished, they all ended up with only shallow cuts on non-vital areas.  The results were still painful enough that they all cried out and clutched at their wounds with their hands.   And this was the opening Trunks needed.  

He tossed his sword in the air, then held out his hands.   With blinding speed, he moved his hands and fingers in a series of complex gestures, then brought them together and launched a powerful ki blast into the entire group.  

They were knocked unconscious as soon as the attack connected.   So certain was Trunks in his assault that he did not pause to make sure they were beaten.   Instead, he ascended, punching his way through another few enemy Patrollers before catching his sword in his hand as it fell back down from when he had tossed it earlier.  

There were others to fight, but each one Trunks overcame only reassured him that this was the correct strategy.  If Demigra's "chorus" were unimportant, then he wouldn't have his other slaves defending them so vigorously.  

He could sense the others.  Ziko and Hakusa had warned him about this, and they were right.  More and more of the Time Patrollers were being converted to Demigra's side.   It was like a shadow had fallen over the collective ki of the Time Patrol.   The ones who remained free continued to fight on, undaunted by the odds, but he knew that their time was running out.  

At last, Trunks fought his way to the retaining wall, and grabbed one of the cloaked Patrollers who stood upon it.  

"Baah cli dushh cli tuul, siid narsh plonn siess elech-- Hey!"

Trunks was shocked to find Taino under the hood of the cloak.  By now, it was clear that no one was safe from the effects of Demigra's spell, but it still unnerved him to see such a cheerful and good-natured Patroller singing ancient demon rites.   Yet he did not hesitate to strike, and knocked her off the retaining wall with a single punch.  

This drew the attention of the other cloaked figures, and they all turned to face him and raised their hands to attack.  

"That's right," Trunks said.   "Whatever you guys are up to, it's not happening until you deal with me first!"

He counted twelve of them, not including Taino, who appeared to be neutralized.   One of them, a Namekian named Bubbex, extended his arms and tried to grab Trunks' sword arm.  He avoided this by leaping onto the large cog that rotated beneath the great hourglass, surrounded by the retaining wall.  It turned slowly enough that Trunks could stand his ground and strike in any direction and hit one of his foes.  

An Earthwoman named Kate fired a Kamehameha at him, but Trunks was able to deflect this with his sword and send her tumbling off the wall and into the city.   Pima pounced at him like a tiger, but Trunks had already fought stronger Saiyans and won.  He simply rolled with Pima's lunge and drove his boots into the young man's abdomen, knocking the wind out of him.  

Above Trunks, the sand in the hourglass still glowed purple, but not as intensely as before.   He hoped that this was a good sign.  

"You've got to fight it!" Trunks told them.  "Demigra is using you!  I'll do everything I can, but I need your help!"

"Baah cli dushh cli tuul," sang Nema, an Earthling shapeshifter.   Trunks had never seen her true form, but her present appearance was similar to the warriors of the Demon World.   She stalked toward him with murderous intent.  

"Siid narsh plonn siess elech phol," sang Goma, a green Majin.  He was normally so quiet and soft-spoken.  Seeing him in this state stoked the fires of Trunks' rage.  

"All of you, stop it!" Trunks shouted.   Stop it now!"

With a rising scream, Trunks clenched his fists and raised his power level further, until at last he released a wave of concussive force outward from his body.  He knocked all of them from the retaining wall and stood unchallenged on the surface of the cog.  

"I'm through fooling around," he said.  "If I have to kill you guys to put a stop to this, then I'll just have to use the Dragon Balls to wish you all back.  But this ends here!"

For a few seconds, there was relative quiet, save for the sounds of battle in the distance.  Trunks scanned the view in all directions, waiting for anyone to climb up on the wall again to defy him.  

Soon enough, he spotted a few of them floating up to try again.

"Baah cli dushh cli tuul," sang Imai, a Namekian

"Siid narsh plonn siess elech phol," sang Goma, in spite of the pain Trunks had just inflicted upon him.  

Trunks waited until several of them were in position, then fired off another energy wave to knock them away.   But they kept coming, and in greater numbers.   It made no sense to him, as he was sure that he had put enough power into his attacks to incapacitate at least some of them.  

Then he noticed that thirteen of them had risen up to defy him.  He knew he had knocked Taino out, at the very least, but then he noticed it wasn't the same face under the cloak this time.  

"Baah cli dushh cli tuul," sang Ziko, who had taken Taino's place in the chorus.  

As Trunks realized the implications of this, he felt someone grabbing his leg from the edge of the cog he was standing on.  He looked down to find Hakusa, wedged between two of the cog's teeth.  She looked up at him and smiled.

"Siid narsh plonn siess elech phol," she sang.  The red glow in her eyes shone through the lens of the scouter she wore.  

The chorus grew louder as more Time Patrollers climbed up to join in.   As Trunks prepared to fight them off, he spotted Taino again.  She was dazed and disoriented, but one of the others had dragged her back into position and she wearily raised her arms to join them in their task.   Above him, the sand in the hourglass burned brighter.  

And then he heard loud crack, and saw a hairline fracture in the glass.  

Around him, the massive cogs began to slow down, ever so slightly, but enough that they began to strain against one another, producing a low, metallic whine.

"Dammit!" Trunks shouted.  "Damn it all!"

He raised his hand to the communicator earpiece he wore at all times.   "This is Trunks," he said.   "If there's anyone left, I need you to get to my position as soon as you can.  Repeat!  If there's anyone left--"

He was cut off by louder noises in the gears.   The cracks in the hourglass grew longer, and more numerous.  Soon, the sand inside glowed bright enough to illuminate the entire city.  Trunks didn't bother to repeat his call.  If there was anyone left to help him, they wouldn't be able to miss what was about to happen.  

Around him, the chorus chanted louder, and more fervently.   Trunks held his sword in both hands.   He was desperate now.  Desperate enough that he was prepared to slaughter all of them if it meant stopping whatever was about to happen.  And yet, some inner doubt stayed his hand.  The thought of his master Gohan's dead body, murdered by Gero's cyborgs, but betrayed by Trunks' failure and weakness.   And so while his mind knew that he had to take action, his heart caused him to delay.  

Then the hourglass finally succumbed to the energy building up inside.  Beams of violet light shone from the cracks in the glass, and at last, the entire structure burst apart like a raw egg in a microwave.

Trunks was able to shield himself from the blast, but there was nothing he could do but watch and wait for the dust to clear.  The city fell silent now.   The enchanted Time Patrollers fell silent, and simply stared up into the space where the hourglass had once been.  

At last, Trunks could make out an unmistakable figure.  

Demigra had arrived in Toki Toki City.

"Ah, Trunks," he said.   "How good to finally meet you in person."

*******

     [12 September, Age 778.  Earth.]  

While Goku fought Cell, Luffa renewed her campaign against Majin Buu.   The childish version of Buu had dominated Luffa during a recent Time Patrol mission, but she had become stronger since that encounter.   Now, she had enough power to destroy Buu's flesh, putting a hard limit on his seemingly endless regeneration ability.  

That still left Luffa with a tough job, as Majin Buu remained pliable and unpredictable, with no discrete organs or joints to target.   And now that he understood that Luffa could deal him lasting damage, he began to fight more carefully, using defensive tactics instead of attacking with reckless abandon.  

"Kakarot's not too bad," Luffa muttered as she powered through Buu's offense.  With his allies removed, he was now resorting to guided ki blasts to contain Luffa instead of the Cell Juniors and ki ghosts from before.   But it wasn't enough to stop her from smashing through and delivering a punch to his flat snout.    

"Yeah, that trick with the ki blast from his feet, and the way he took down those little blue bug things.   The old man might be almost as strong as I am!"

"Rrraaagghhh!" Buu screamed as he began his counterattack.  Luffa couldn't block every blow, but then, she didn't need to.  She was willing to take a few hits in order to keep him close.  

"You're not so bad yourself, kid," Luffa teased.  As she spoke, blood from her nose trickled down into her lips, but this only seemed to fan the flames of her aggression.   "Demigra was smart, sending you after me, and giving you all that backup.  He must have seen how bad you worked me over before, and thought this would be enough to tip the scales."

Suddenly, she snagged his arm after taking a punch, and she swung her legs up to Buu's chest.   As she planted her boots on his ribs and neck, she began to yank on his wrist, as though attempting to pull his arm off.   Normally, Kid Buu might have allowed her to do this, just to amuse himself by turning the arm into a worm-like appendage, or letting the flesh melt through her fingers as he attacked with the rest of his body.   But he had already seen what damage she could wreak upon an isolated limb, and so he struggled to shake her off of himself.

"There's just one problem with his strategy!" Luffa shouted as she wrapped her tail around Buu's other arm.   He extended his legs in order to kick at her, but it wasn't enough to discourage her.  Then she applied her ki to pushing them both to the ground at tremendous speed.

They crashed hard enough to make a crater in the parkland, and Luffa still didn't let go.  Buu began to thrash violently in her grip, but he still couldn't shake her loose.  

"See, if Demigra was stronger than you, Buu, he would have taken me on himself.   But he didn't, so now I know he's no match for me, and since you couldn't get the job done, then that means I'm still alive to make him regret it!"

At last, Buu shifted his tactics, extending his trapped arm, and grasping Luffa's face.    He could only scream, but his message was clear: Release me or smother.

Luffa's counter to this was to narrow her eyes and charge her hands with an energy that made her hands glow like hot coals.

As smoke began to billow from Buu's arm, he gave in to panic.   If he tore himself away from the arm, he would surely lose it, and bring himself one step closer to destruction.  But if he didn't, then Luffa's attack would damage even more of his mass.  And yet, there was still a chance he could suffocate Luffa before it was too late.  

Unaccustomed to such life or death decisions, Majin Buu opted to stay on the attack.   With his will bound to Demigra's magic, and his enemy in peril, he could do no less.

If this troubled Luffa, she didn't show it.  

As Buu's arm burned away, he continued to struggle, both with Luffa and with the pain.   At last, he could take no more, and he opened his mouth to release a ki blast at her.   In an instant, the crater they were in was filled with a pink light, tinged black from the soot and ash kicked up from the explosion.

For a moment, there was only the cacophony of the battle between Goku and Cell.  From the crater, there was nothing.  The ground in and around it had been turned to glass.   Then, a crack appeared, and Majin Buu emerged, like a infant bird hatching from a giant egg.  

He was dazed, and his arm and shoulder were gone, with only a charred patch of flesh on his chest where they had once been.   He struggled to regenerate the lost limb, but could only manage to sprout a tiny stub.  Flecks of pink matter spilled out of the wound, floating up and away from him like puffs of steam.

In spite of his injury, he quickly regained his bearings, and stared at the ground near his feet, searching for any sign of Luffa, dead or alive.  

After a moment, he stepped toward a certain spot, held out his remaining arm, and fired a ki blast at the vitrified dirt.   When he saw Luffa lying prone and unresponsive underneath, his impish face twisted into a vicious smile.  

With a gleeful cackle, he extended his arm and grabbed Luffa by the pant leg, hauling her up into the air and dangling her so that her head was level with his own.

Thrilled at his apparent victory, Kid Buu swung his head tentacle forward, and began to slap it across Luffa's face.   When she gave no reaction, he howled with laughter, then tried it again.  

It was all very amusing to Buu, until her eyes suddenly snapped open.  

Before he could realize what was happening, Luffa pursed her lips and spit something into his eyes and mouth.   It was like a stream of glowing yellow mist, and Buu screamed with pain as soon as it made contact.  

He released Luffa so that he could use his hand to wipe the offensive material from his eyes.  It covered him like phosphorescent paint, and after a moment's exposure, it began to burn.  

When Buu let go of Luffa, she did not drop.   Instead, she hung in the air, upside down, and slowly rotated to an upright position.   She regarded Buu for a moment, then turned her head and spit.  

"Yeah, let's see you fight with face full of that," she said.   "Final round, squirt."

And she commenced her attack.   Wounded and burning, Majin Buu still managed to put up some semblance of a defense, but this was all he could manage.  The ki Luffa had spit on him was burning his throat even as it stung his eyes and nostrils.  As he struggled, his usual shrieks and laughter were replaced with pathetic coughs and gagging noises.    

Luffa was the only one laughing now.  

She was relentless, for nothing short of that would win the battle.  Given time to recover, Majin Buu could eventually restore himself completely, and reverse all of the gains she had made against him.  So she refused to give him any respite.   She hammered at him with punches, kicks, elbows, knees, and ki blasts, pausing only to bat aside his good arm whenever it got in her way.  When she was satisfied with her efforts, she stepped back, and held up her hands on her left side.  

"Gallick Gun...." she said just before launching a column of purple energy into Buu's upper body.  

When the attack subsided, there was only a flash of purple streaking into the upper atmosphere, and Buu's torso and legs, which collapsed into a pile of pink goo in the grass.  

Luffa stepped up to the quivering mass and knelt down beside it.   "You're a tough bastard all right.   That knocked Demigra's magic out of you, but you're still alive."

The pink blob swirled around, occasionally forming an eye to glare hatefully at Luffa, or a mouth to moan and snarl at her.  

"Well, that's it, then," Luffa said as she lowered her hand over the puddle of Buu.  "I guess if I destroy this piece, there won't be anything left to worry about-- huh?"

As she charged her hand to attack, the pink liquid suddenly shrank and faded into the soil.  Luffa realized her mistake at once.  Even in this pathetic condition, Buu could still move, and he was probably more mobile as a fluid, since he could travel through the ground like rainwater.   But what she didn't understand was where he thought he could go.   What refuge could he hope to find in this place--?

"Kakarot!" she called out.  

*******

     [20 April, Age 850.  Toki Toki City.]  

"How did you do it?!" Trunks demanded.   "How were you able to cast your dark magic into Toki Toki City?!"

Demigra made a slight chuckle before responding.  "You seriously expect me to explain it to you, Trunks?" he asked.   "Or are you stalling for time, hoping your friends will find some way to unravel my victory?"

"Neither," Trunks said with a defiant smirk.  "It's just that I'll need to write a full report on the breach in security.  And we'll need to know exactly what went wrong so that we can prevent it in the future."  He brandished his sword and added.  "So I want to get as much information from you as I can, before I kill you."

"Confident as ever, I see," Demigra said.  "Very well, I'll deign to answer your question, Trunks.   I've been awaiting this day for so long, it will be gratifying to tell someone else how it became possible."

Before he continued, he glanced down at the crowd standing in the city below.   He snapped his fingers, and one of the Time Patrollers, Percel, floated up to his side, holding a bottle of water.   Demigra received it from him, and then dismissed Percel with a gesture.  

"Pardon me," Demigra said.  "Revenge is such thirsty work.  Would you care to join me in a toast?"

"Get on with it, Demigra," Trunks said impatiently.  

"It was that duo from before," he began.  "Towa and her patchwork husband.  Mira, I believe he was called.  They provided me with the final pieces to the puzzle.  Towa could use magic to manipulate warriors, making them stronger and more aggressive.  But she couldn't control them completely.  I, on the other hand, could do far more, and so I refined her spell into something more suitable for my purposes.  Frieza was my first test, and he performed quite well."

"Frieza?" Trunks said.  "I thought Piccolo was the first one you tried to control.  After we defeated Towa!"

"That was what I wanted you to think," Demigra said.  "Towa was interfering with history to gather energy for her trifling experiments, but in doing so, she also disrupted the seal which kept me confined to the Crack of Time, where your beloved Chronoa had banished me long ago.  I needed more to escape, but I knew you would defeat her eventually, and so I used what little contact I had with the outside universe to control Frieza during his battle on Namek.  When that attempt worked in my favor, I allowed Towa's scheme to play out."

"If Towa was helping you," Trunks asked.  "Then why did you help Luffa thwart Towa's attempt to erase me from history?"

"Simple," Demigra said.  "He paused to take a sip of water and licked his lips with delight.   "Lovely.  I haven't eaten or drank anything in seventy-five million years.  You can't imagine what that's like.   But back to your question.  I wanted Towa to continue meddling with history, but only so I could escape and seize the Time Nest for myself.  If I had allowed Towa to erase your existence, then it would change the entire history of the Time Nest itself.  Mechikabura would still be alive without you to defeat him for me, and Chronoa might have organized a Time Patrol very different from the one we have today.  That would disrupt my plans, and so I had to send my mirage to intervene.   You're welcome, by the way."

"Get on with it, Demigra," Trunks said.  

"Fine.   Once your existence had been secured, and Towa's operation was neutralized, I began to test my influence over history's mightiest fighters.   Frieza, then Piccolo, then Majin Buu.  The Time Patrol stopped me at every turn, but those were only minor setbacks.  I needed to gauge your strength, and adjust my strategy."  

"So when your spell didn't work on Lord Beerus," Trunks said, "you had to come up with a new plan."

"My spell did work on Beerus," Demigra said with a dry laugh.  "Just not in the way you expected.  I never intended to control him directly.  But I knew his unmitigated arrogance would allow me to manipulate him to do my bidding just as well."

"That's nonsense!" Trunks said.  "Lord Beerus was onto you from the start, and once he saw what you tried to do, he wanted to destroy you."

"My point exactly," Demigra said. "Since he couldn't catch me, he went to Toki Toki City instead.   And during his visit, he left something of mine behind."

The realization hit Trunks harder than any blow he had sustained in the battle thus far.  "No..." was all he could say.  

Demigra laughed.   "You remember the Majin Emblem I smuggled into the Time Nest, don't you?" he asked.   "I could never bring such an explosive power directly into the Time Nest, but it was child's play to smuggle it in on Luffa's hand.  I used the same trick on Beerus.  That kickball transferred my magic to his body, but not to control him.   Beerus was able to resist my influence, but he neglected to purge it from his divine personage.  And as soon as he was in this city, it departed from him and carried out it's true purpose."

"Then you took control of one of the Time Patrollers," Trunks said.  "And you've been using them to spread your spell to the rest!"

"I knew Chronoa could never allow Beerus to wait here to destroy me himself.   Such a confrontation would annihilate the Time Nest.  Somehow, she would have to convince him to leave the matter to the Time Patrol.   Once he departed, my victory was assured!"

"Assured, huh?" Trunks said.   "If you were so confident, then what was the point of that time incursion you pulled before you came here?"

"I needed one last destabilization of the timestream," Demigra explained.  "One more push to allow me to breach this city's defenses.   And with my Time Patrollers active on the inside, it was simple to have them fetch versions of Frieza, Cell, and Buu from your Parallel Quest system, and send them back in time to West City on Earth.  And since the disruption originated near the Time Nest, it made my arrival that much easier to accomplish."

"That's all, then?" Trunks asked.  "It had nothing at all to do with getting Luffa out of the city long enough for you to make your move?  Because I was getting the distinct impression that she had you worried, Demigra."

"Were you?" Demigra scoffed.  "You'd do well not to confuse caution with cowardice, Trunks.  I have planned for this day for seventy-five million years.  I left nothing to chance, including your struggle with Towa, and the wish you made on the Dragon Balls to deal with it.  What was it you asked of Shenron?   'Give me a strong ally.  Someone with the kind of power to help me defend time itself.'  I believe that was what you said."

"Something like that," Trunks replied.  

"I couldn't dare ignore an ally like that," Demigra said.  "From what I've seen, Luffa is little more than a distraction, like Towa.  But the fact remains that Shenron granted your wish, and she is powerful.   I couldn't dismiss that, and so I used the wish against you, Trunks.  By sending those villains to the Earth's past, I created another disruption in history, which required her attention.   And so Luffa is defending time itself.  It just so happens that she's left the Time Nest defenseless in the process."

"You think you've worked out all the angles, Demigra," Trunks said, "but you've underestimated us."

"Please.  Don't bore me with empty rhetoric about the 'true power of the Saiyans'," Demigra muttered.   "Your warrior race's entire history is barely a footnote in the cosmic procession.  And your pitiful 'legends' mean even less to me."

"But Shenron sent me a Super Saiyan," Trunks said.  "And that got your attention, didn't it?  You said it yourself.  You couldn't dismiss that."

"And so I removed her from the board," Demigra said.   "Even if she can defeat my forces, by the time she prevails, there will be no Time Patrol to return to.   Face it, Trunks.  Your 'Legendary Super Saiyan' isn't coming to save you this time."

"And that's it right there," Trunks said.  "That's your fatal flaw, Demigra.  You say you've been planning this for millions of years?  Well, I think all that time has made you lose sight of the details.  I didn't wish for an ally to save me.   I asked Shenron for an ally to help me.   You just assumed I needed someone stronger than me to fight my battles for me, but that was never it at all.   I just needed someone on my level, who could handle things when I was busy elsewhere.   Like 'defending time' while I handle an invasion."

"You?" Demigra scoffed.  "I've already won, Trunks.   Your troops now serve me.   What is there left for you to 'handle'?"

"Your execution," Trunks said.  "Forget the legends, Demigra.  You see, you're about to fight a real Super Saiyan.  And I'm not talking about Luffa."

With that, Trunks began to scream, and as his ki increased, the golden aura around his body began to expand and flash like a firestorm.  

"Such useless bravado in the face of certain defeat," Demigra said with a smirk.   I shall have to--!"

There was no warning, no hint of an attack.   One moment Demigra was speaking while Trunks was floating in front of him.   In the next, Trunks had closed the distance between them, and his sword was now embedded into Demigra's torso.  The point of the blade poked out of his back, while the hilt was pressed against his abdomen.  

Trunks, still holding the sword, looked up at Demigra, and narrowed his eyes.   Then he screamed again.

*******

     [12 September, Age 778.  Earth.]  

Cell was just as skilled a fighter as he had been the last time Goku had fought him.   And despite Goku's estimations, it seemed that the Spirit Bomb had improved Cell's power a great deal.  It was a testament to Cell's design.    Long after he would have thought Cell to be an obsolete contender, the creature had managed to adapt and improve himself using the abilities and traits that had been part of him all along.  Dr. Gero would have been proud of his ultimate weapon, if he were still alive to see it in action.  

The real challenge was Cell's fighting technique.   As a boy, Goku had trained under Kami, whose assistant, Mr. Popo, once created a doll to serve as a sparring partner.   The doll was mystically animated, and it could mimic Goku's power and movements perfectly.   Fighting with Cell was almost the same experience, except that Cell could not imitate and anticipate not just Goku's movements, but those of Vegeta, Piccolo, and Frieza as well.

But Goku had learned from his loss to Cell twelve years ago.  When he began training in Otherworld, his first goal was to study every aspect of his defeat, and overcome those weaknesses.   This was what separated Gero's androids from true martial artists.  When Cell wanted to improve, he simply fed upon innocent people, or absorbed one of the other androids, or he fell back on the genetic traits and computer data that were built into his design.  A monster like him could never truly achieve the kind of fighting perfection that he liked to brag about.   Goku knew this as fact.  His son had proven it at the Cell Games, and Goku himself would prove it again here.  

Cell had been one step ahead of Goku for most of this battle.  Always blocking at just the right moments, always striking at any opening.   He had been keeping up with everything Goku had done, but only because Goku had allowed him to do so.   He needed to see what Cell could do with this increased power, and so he allowed Cell the illusion of fighting the same Son Goku he had defeated at the Cell Games, with the same moves and reactions that Goku would have had on that day.  

What fascinated Goku was that Cell was completely unbothered by this.  After a few minutes, he should have at least gotten suspicious.  Vegeta or Piccolo certainly would have.   Neither the Supreme Kai of Time, nor Luffa, knew how Cell, Frieza, and Majin Buu had come back.   But it seemed likely that they were somehow collected from history, snatched from the end of their lifetimes, and brought to this day and age.  That would explain how Cell didn't seem to notice that Goku had changed over the years.   From Cell's perspective, it was still the day of the Cell Games, and only a few hours at most had passed.  

Realizing this, Goku was satisfied with what he had learned, and so he gave Cell a taste of the Goku of Today.   He sidestepped a punch and used Instant Transmission to vanish from Cell's sight.   Cell spun around to catch Goku as he rematerialized, but instead Goku appeared above him, and landed a kick on the side of Cell's head.  

"What--?!" Cell gasped.  

He recovered quickly, but fell for the same trap.  Goku lured him in, then ducked under Cell's kick and threw a kick of his own, sweeping Cell's other leg out from under him.    As Cell tumbled, Goku fired a ki blast into his chest.  

"You're not--!" Cell snarled.  "You aren't supposed to be doing this!"

"Something wrong, Cell?" Goku asked.   "You don't seem to be enjoying this like you were before."

"You fool!" Cell shouted.   "I'll show you--!"

He lunged for Goku, only to be foiled again.   This time, Goku stood his ground, and caught Cell as he ran into him.  Then, with a furious shout, Goku arched his back and dropped Cell with a belly-to-belly suplex.  

"What?!" Cell gasped.  "Where did you learn to do this?!"

"The Grand Kai Planet," Goku said.  "Some of these moves don't suit me too well, but I still learned 'em, just in case they might come in handy.   Here's another one..."

As Cell scrambled to his feet, Goku threw out his hands and yelled.    Cell was blown back by an invisible wave of force, not strong enough to hurt him, but powerful enough to move him against his will.  He groaned and then braced himself from another wave, crossing his chitinous arms over his face.  

"These tricks of yours are nothing, Goku!" Cell sneered.   "My skills are unmatched!"

"You're behind the times, Cell," Goku teased.   "Here's one my son taught me."

He held out his hands, and a ring of yellow light appeared, and expanded to two meters across.  Then the ring shot out toward Cell, stopping just over his head.  Before Cell could react, the ring descended over his chest, and quickly shrank, wrapping him tightly and pinning his arms to his sides.  

"What... is this... supposed to be?!" Cell demanded.  

"Galactic Donut!" Goku said with a smirk.  "Goten and Trunks told me it didn't work very well on Majin Buu, but that only figures, since he can change his shape however he wants.  But against someone like you, Cell?  Well, that's a whole other story."  

"Ridiculous!" Cell shouted.   "This puny ring of yours can't hold me!"

But Cell could not break free, no matter how hard he strained against his bonds.  As he struggled in vain, Goku positioned himself and readied a Kamehameha.

"Just hold that pose, Cell," Goku said.   "This will all be over real soon."

"No!" Cell protested.   "I should have more than enough power to deal with the likes of you!  I sensed it!  The ki you're putting out doesn't compare with what I absorbed, combined with what I already had!"

"That's where you're wrong, Cell," Goku said.   "Not too long ago, I got a taste of something called 'Super Saiyan God.'   It didn't last very long, but my body remembered that power and I can still tap into a little bit of it when I need to.  Why else would I be able to handle you in my Super Saiyan form, when Gohan had to surpass the Super Saiyan to beat you before?"

"Super... Saiyan... God?!" Cell sputtered.  "What are you blathering about?!"

"The trick to godly ki is that you can't sense that power, not with the kind of senses we're used to using, anyway.   So when you look at me, you can only see a portion of my power.   Maybe most of it, but there's still that little bit you can't sense, and that's the part that makes the difference."

"Y-you're bluffing!" Cell said.   "This is just a trick, like when you surrendered to me before!"

"Sorry, Cell, but this time, you don't get your way.   And don't bother using Instant Transmission.  That Galactic Donut will just follow you wherever you go, and I'll be right behind you."

"No, this can't be happening!"

Goku was ready to fire, but before he could, something leaped out from the shadows and tackled him.  The Kamehameha went wild, launching up into the sky at an angle so steep that it would have never hit anything.   And the figure who ambushed Goku kept him on the ground, struggling to hold him.  

"You - don't - escape, you - miserable....monkey!"

The voice was unmistakable, and as Goku wrestled free of his assailant he knew exactly who it was, though he didn't understand how.   He put some distance between them, then charged his Super Saiyan aura to illuminate the area.  

"Frieza?" Goku asked in disbelief.   "But I didn't sense you at all.   How could you--?   Oh, man...!"

It was Frieza, just as Goku thought, but he had drastically changed.   The cyborg parts were no great surprise-- Goku had never seen them for himself, but he had heard about it from his friends after the fact.   It only made sense, after all, since the last time Goku had seen Frieza on Namek, Frieza had lost one of his arms and his entire lower body due to his own botched attack.  

But what truly horrified Goku was the limp expression on Frieza's face.  There was drool spilling from his mouth, and only one of his eyes seemed to be focused on what he was looking at.   And one of Frieza's arms hung at his side, as though paralyzed.  

Or dead.  

Was that why Goku couldn't sense his life energy?  

"Your - monkey - friend, that... she-devil... is - the - one - who - left - me - in - this - sorry - condition," Frieza said in a voice that sounded like he was talking into a tin can.  His mouth did not move as he spoke, though Goku did not understand how that could be.  

"Luffa did this to you?" Goku asked.  

"Her - attack, swift - and - sudden - as - it - was, broke - my - cervical - vertebrae," Frieza explained.  "I - perished - instantly, or - rather - my - organic - body - did.   But - my - cybernetics - survived - and - so - I - was - able - to - remove - myself - from - the - fray - unnoticed."

"And now you want to try to get revenge, is that it?" Goku asked.  

"One - benefit - to - this - state - is - that - I - am - now - free - of - whatever - enchantment - was - placed - upon - myself - and - the - others," Frieza continued.  "Before - I - only - sought - to - attack - any - Time - Patrol - agents.   But - now, Goku, now - I -am - free - to - pursue - my - own - vendetta."

"You really are a hopeless fool, Frieza!" Goku said.  "I tried to spare you on Namek... twice, and you still won't quit!  Now you've been reduced to a shell of yourself."

"Spare - me - your - pity," Frieza droned on.   "I - may - be - a - shambling - wretch, a - technological - horror, - but - I - can - reflect - upon - that - after - I - have - sent - you - to - oblivion!"

"Enough," Goku said.   "I never wanted it to come to this, Frieza, but it looks like I have no choice but to put you out of your misery!"

With that, he took a wide stance and held his hands together on his right side to charge the Kamehameha wave.  But as he fired, someone called out to him...

"Kakarot!"

Goku looked away for a moment, and while this brief indiscretion might have been enough for Frieza to escape in his prime, the half-dead Mecha-Frieza was too slow to capitalize, and so he was finally, mercifully destroyed by Goku's blast.  

But what concerned Goku was what he saw when he looked back at Cell.   He was still caught in the Galactic Donut ring, and Luffa was running toward them, and he could feel something underground.

"Wh-what?!" Cell cried as he sensed the same thing.    

It was Majin Buu.  Having soaked into the soil to escape Luffa's finishing blow, he leached through the ground, and emerged at Cell's feet.  In mere instants, Cell's legs were caught in sticky pink fluid, like an animal stuck in warm taffy.

In spite of the ki ring holding him, and the two Super Saiyans ready to destroy him, and the demon magic that ruled his thoughts, Cell was most panicked by the goo that expanded around him, like some gigantic amoeba threatening to swallow him whole.  

"Oh no!" Goku yelled.  

"Shoot him!" Luffa cried out!  "Aim high, and I'll go low!"

Goku had been slow to react at first, but he recovered quickly, and launched another Kamehameha at Cell's upper body.  He had tried this years ago, at the Cell Games, only for Cell to regenerate his entire chest, both arms, and head.   And so he feared the same thing would happen this time, but he put his trust in whatever plan Luffa had in mind.  

The energy wave hit its mark, and as Goku expected, when the dust settled, there was nothing left of Cell but an abdomen and his legs, which were enveloped in Buu's flesh.   But to his surprise, Luffa was there as well, wrapping her hands around Cell's legs.    She paid no heed to the pink goo that covered Cell's body, and her arms and face began to sink into it.  

"What are you doing?!" Goku shouted.   "He's gonna absorb you!"

Luffa's only response was to charge her ki, and her aura began to flash with greater intensity.  With a savage growl, her hands started to shine with a brilliant gold, and Buu's flesh began to burn.  

For a moment, Goku stood still, unsure of what would happen next.  If he tried to pull Luffa free, there was a good chance of them both getting sucked in, and Buu would emerge with the power of both Super Saiyans, with no one powerful enough to stop him.   Instead he watched with growing concern, and began to raise his power level, just in case Luffa's stunt didn't work.  

Seconds passed, and he could see less and less of Luffa's body as the pink mass enveloped her.   She did not struggle, but continued to apply her energy to burning Buu's body away.  The air began to grow hazy with smoke that stung Goku's nostrils.  

Then Luffa was gone, and there was only a rippling blob of pink slime.   The smoke still billowed from it as it contorted itself into a shape, and after a moment, Goku could see a face forming in the middle of it.  

It looked like Cell's features, but with Majin Buu's pink skin and black sclera.   It grinned at him in mischievous triumph, then its eyes went wide with dread.   The face twisted and stretched out over the mass of Buu's smoldering flesh, like an oil slick spreading across a puddle.   It's mouth opened wide in a silent scream, then faded away.

Then the entire blob began to turn black, and then it glowed red like a piece of coal in a furnace.   And then, finally, it vaporized in a flash of yellow.   For a moment, Goku could only see an impenetrable cloud of smoke, but he smiled and relaxed his guard.  

Suddenly, the smoke was driven away by a powerful gust of air, and Luffa stood alone in its place.   She was breathing hard, and her yellow pants were dirty with soot, but otherwise she was no worse for wear.  

"You got him!" Goku cheered.   "Nice work!"

"What were you doing over here?" Luffa asked.   "You had Cell outclassed from the start, so why were you taking so long to finish him off?"

"Oh.  Well, Frieza jumped me at the last second, and--" Goku tried to explain, but Luffa wasn't having it.  

"Forget that chump!" she yelled.   "You could have taken down Cell a long time ago, even with that extra power he had!  I was over there trying to finish off Buu, and you're here toying around with your guy?"

"Hey, I had it under control!" Goku said defensively.   "You're the one who let Buu get away from you, remember?   If you wanted Cell defeated so badly, you should've fought him yourself."

Luffa stepped toward him and poked her finger into the front of his orange shirt.   "If I had left Buu up to you," she griped, "then you probably would have--!"

"Uh, excuse me, guys, but don't you have more important business to deal with right now?   The whole Time Patrol crisis and all?"

They both heard the voice of King Kai, and glanced upward, even knowing that he was speaking into their minds from the Otherworld.

"Dammit, you're right," Luffa said.   "We beat them all, didn't we?   I thought I wiped out the last traces of Buu, but if I missed any, he would have probably regenerated himself by now..."

"No, you got him," Goku said.  He looked around at the battleground and narrowed his eyes as he concentrated his senses.  "It's just like when we beat him on the Sacred World of the Kais.  There's no trace of him anywhere.   Or Cell, for that matter."  

"It's a good thing they were both so worn down," Luffa said.  "Otherwise, that stunt I pulled probably wouldn't have worked, and Buu would have gotten a second wind.  But if they're all beaten, why haven't they recalled me back to the Time Nest?"

"Huh?" Goku asked.  "I thought you used a time machine, like the one Trunks had."

"They have those," Luffa said, "but those are for training missions.  For stuff like this, there's a magic scroll that takes me where I'm supposed to go, and then it brings me back when I'm done."

"A scroll?" Goku said.   "Hey, that reminds me.   Do you still have that thing with you, King Kai?"

"Well, yes," King Kai replied.  "I've got it on the dining table right now, but--"

"Great!" Goku said.   "We'll be right there!"  

He held out his hand to Luffa.  "Come on," he said.  "I've got an idea."

Luffa took his hand, unsure what he had in mind, and then she suddenly felt herself... disappear.  

*******

     [20 April, Age 850.  Toki Toki City.]  

Demigra coughed up blood.  Being impaled upon Trunk's sword, there seemed to be little else that he could do.  But Trunks was not content to pause his attack.  

Charging his ki, he drew back his weapon with one hand and fired a  blast of golden energy from the other.  Demigra was knocked back, and as he fell to the city street below, his blood spilled out of his wound like the tail of a comet.  

Trunks still was not finished.  Nor had he forgotten the crowd of Time Patrollers who were magically bound to Demigra's will.  As he followed Demigra to the ground, his bloody sword began to glow white, charged with his Super Saiyan power.  He raised the blade overhead as he landed beside Demigra, but instead of striking the Demon God, he swung the sword in a wide arc, releasing the energy in a wave that knocked away the Time Patrollers who gathered to defend their dark master.  

Then, Trunks struck Demigra again.   He raised his free hand, and clenched his fingers into a tight fist.  Demigra's body began to glow with a yellow light, and it levitated into the air.   With a furious kiai shout, Trunks swung his hand to one side, and Demigra's body was flung in the same direction.  He crashed into the entrance of the Tournament Arena, a facility located on the Time Plaza, near the portal to the Time Nest.  

Then Trunks held out his hand and fired a series of energy bursts at Demigra.  Before he could collapse, the bursts struck Demigra's neck, forearms, and ankles, forming a set of energy bonds that held him fast to the wall.    

As Demigra struggled against this trap, Trunks appeared before him in a flash.  Without a word, he drove his knee into Demigra's wounded gut.  

"Arrghh!" Demigra screamed.  

"It's simple," Trunks said.  "You thought you could overwhelm me with the Time Patrollers, Demigra.  You thought I would be so conflicted about fighting my friends that I'd never be able to stop you."

His sword was back in its sheath, and Trunks was now punishing Demigra with hard punches to his unprotected face and abdomen.  

"But you're the real threat here," Trunks said between strikes.   "And if I focus my full power on you, and only you?  Something tells me you won't be able to control your army of mindslaves.   Let me know if I'm wrong."

Demigra's only response was a pathetic gurgle and a trickle of blood from his mouth.  He tried to speak, but a right hook from Trunks cut him off before he could form the words.

"Normally, I'd finish this with a single blast, and destroy you quickly," Trunks said.   "But your illusion-casting has tricked us before and I'm not going to give you an opening to use any other spells you might have!   So my only course of action is to beat you to death, Demigra.  It's better than you deserve."

"N-no..." Demigra sputtered.  Then his eyes went wide as he screamed.  "No!"

Trunks was still attacking him when suddenly his next punch was halted by a powerful energy field.  "What?!" Trunks gasped.  

And then Demigra suddenly rallied.  With a surge of power, the wall around him disintegrated against the force of his red aura.   The golden shackles Trunks had used on him now faded away, and Trunks found his next strikes were cushioned by the sheer intensity of Demigra's power.   He literally could not lay a hand on the Demon God.  

At last, the field subsided, and Demigra stood before him, still wounded, but free.  

"I... have come... too far...!" he shouted between halting breaths, "to be stopped... by a worthless... insignificant... nobody like you!"

Trunks stepped back, not out of fear, but to give himself the proper distance to use stronger measures.   He extended his arms and held his wrists together as a bright yellow ball of energy appeared in his palms.  

The Buster Cannon was a technique of his own design.  Son Gohan had taught him a variety of classic attacks used by Goku, Piccolo, and others, but he had also warned him that Gero's cyborgs would be prepared for such measures.  

"I never had the chance to learn any of Vegeta's moves," Gohan had told him long ago.  "I know how much it would mean to you to use them in battle, but don't let it get you down.  The fact is, you've got plenty from your father, Trunks.   You have his fiery will, and his skill for innovation.   Use it to forge your own path, and you'll find a way to destroy those cyborgs with something they've never seen before!"

Trunks had taken the lesson to heart.  The Buster Cannon lacked the versatility of the Kamehameha, but it was faster to charge and easier to deploy.   And by keeping his arms in front of his chest, the move left him less open to attack on the left flank.  

The blast had taken out a large section of the tournament stadium, but Demigra survived.   That did not discourage Trunks.   The important thing was that Demigra had not used the chaos of the explosion to dodge or hide.  He had been forced to guard instead, and this would wear him down further.   It also gave Trunks a clearer picture of his enemy's stamina.  The wound in Demigra's torso was still bleeding, and after several minutes, the blood now stained much of his blue costume dark red.  But he still had enough in him to put up a vigorous defense.   It was frustrating, but Trunks kept his emotions in check.  A long, protracted battle favored Demigra, but it also allowed Trunks to study his opponent, and analyze his powers for weaknesses.  

More importantly, every second Demigra spent in this fight was another second he could not hunt down the Divine Tokitoki Bird.  It was Demigra's sole objective here.  Without Tokitoki, his entire invasion was meaningless.

Demigra was holding his scepter like a walking stick, and seemed to be using it for support.   It looked like it had been made out of several bones, with the hand of a humanoid skeleton at the top arranged to hold a red crystal orb.  This orb now glowed red as it generated a force field around Demigra to protect him.  Trunks was tempted to press his attack and test the limits of this ability, but decided against it.  

There were too many unknowns about Demigra.  This was a chance to learn more about his abilities.   If he truly were as weakened as he appeared to be, then there would be plenty of time to finish him off.  But if this was a trap, Trunks couldn't afford to blunder into it.  

"Y-you're not completely without patience, then," Demigra muttered.  "If you had laid a hand on me just now, you would have lost it.   A little defense I came up with to allow me time to do this..."

The red aura intensified around him, and Demigra rose to his full height.  To Trunks' amazement, the bloody wound in the demon's abdomen began to close up again, and the crimson stain surrounding it began to recede.  At first, Trunks mistook this for a healing ability, similar to the technique used by the Supreme Kai of Time, but then he realized what it truly was.   The blood was actually returning to his body, as if Trunks were now seeing a video recording of it being played in reverse.  

It was similar to a different ability Chronoa had.  When Trunks' mother had come to visit him, she would often ask Chronoa to alter the passage of time on her scalp, which caused her hair to grow faster.   Demigra seemed to be able to reverse the process on his own body, and literally undo any damage he sustained in battle.  

"There," Demigra said, raising his arms triumphantly.  He looked as fresh as when he first appeared from the broken hourglass.  

Trunks drew his sword and examined the bloodstains on the blade.   They still remained, though this seemed to be a contradiction.  

"You surprised me, Trunks," Demigra said with an arrogant smirk.  "I thought I had taken every possible contingency into account, but I've forgotten how ferocious a real battle can be.  I've been watching history unfold from the Crack of Time for so long, it seems I've lost touch with the real world."

"I've only just begun, Demigra," Trunks said.  "I don't know much about magic, but I'm betting that little stunt took a toll on you, one way or another.  There's a limit to how much damage you can reverse, and I promise you that we're going to find it.   But even if I can't, you'll never get your hands on Tokitoki if all you can do is stay on the defensive."

"A salient point," Demigra said.   "Perhaps I should have taken a more aggressive posture when I arrived here.  You have my word, Trunks, that I shall strive to do better."

As he spoke, he raised his scepter and laid it across his forearm like the barrel of a gun.   Before Trunks could react, he suddenly fired a barrage of crimson energy blasts from the red orb at the end of the scepter.  Trunks managed to avoid the first one, but the rest of them seemed to adjust their path through the air.  He had to pick up speed to stay ahead of them, and as each burst whizzed past him, they exploded on the walls of the city in the distance.

At last, as Trunks ran out of room, he swung his sword to deflect the next shot, but in the moment he did so, Demigra suddenly appeared right next to him, and used the opening to strike him with his scepter.  He managed to land several hits this way, until Trunks finally managed to bring up his sword to block it.  They continued this way for a minute longer, dueling through the tournament grounds.  The only sounds were the clang of metal against bone, until finally...

"Hrrrraaahhh!" Trunks screamed as he feinted a strike at Demigra's neck, only to shift his footing and drive his blade into the middle of the scepter.   He put a tremendous power into the blow, enough that the bone scepter cracked in two.   Demigra was thrown off-balance by the attack, and Trunks capitalized by spinning around and catching him in the face with a backfist.  

"You've lost, Demigra," Trunks shouted.   "You tipped your hand with that staff of yours.   You rely on it far too much!  You might still be able to fight without it, but you won't be able to reverse your injuries or pull any other tricks."

Demigra fell to the fighting stage of the arena, and glared up at Trunks with a wild, desperate hatred in his eyes.   "Don't underestimate me, boy!" he snarled.   "I am far from finished."

"Oh, I'm sure you have a lot of fight left in you," Trunks said as he stalked toward his foe.    He made sure to keep the tip of his sword between himself and Demigra at all times.  "They say an animal is most dangerous when it's cornered.   So I'll make sure to watch my step from here on, but you're still cornered, Demigra, and this is where you get swept into the dustbin of history!"

"You're right, Trunks," Demigra admitted.   "I'm no match for you without my scepter.   I can already tell that the difference in our powers is far too great.   I won't survive long without it."

Trunks stepped as close to Demigra as he deemed safe, and raised his sword to continue the battle.  But as he prepared his next strike, he noticed a cunning smirk suddenly appear on Demigra's face.  He backed away, ready to defend, but all Demigra did was raise his left hand.  There was nothing in his fingers but a handful of air.

And then suddenly, a second scepter appeared, and before Trunks could react, Demigra used it.  

He found himself surrounded by a field of profound darkness.  Bolts of green lighting flashed around him, and Trunks could feel the darkness closing in around him.   He tried to push back, but found there was no escape.  

It contracted around him with ruthless speed.   In that moment, Trunks felt a searing pain across his entire body, like he was being warped and stretched through some giant machine.   When it was over, he found himself lying prone on the tournament stage, disoriented and confused.   He looked around, and saw his sword lying beside him, just a few centimeters out of reach.  He rolled onto his side to take it...

...only for Demigra's boot to slam down on the flat of the blade.   Trunks looked up to find him holding two scepters.    The two splintered pieces of the broken one were in his right hand, while the second one flashed and glowed in his left.   There was a bolt of energy that flowed between the two ruby orbs, and then the broken scepter began to repair itself, much the same way Demigra had healed his injuries before.   Then there was another flash of red light, and the once-broken spear vanished.   Satisfied, Demigra took the remaining spear and held it in both hands, high over Trunks.    

"You were right," Demigra said with a manic glee.   "I wouldn't survive very long without this scepter, which is why I'm repairing it and sending it back in time to the moment when I needed it the most!   I trust you begin to understand the power I wield, Trunks, but if you need a further demonstration, then let me oblige!"

The Demon God raised his scepter in both hands, and above his grinning face, he formed a large ball of turbulent energy, with streaks of red and black churning  throughout.   Trunks scrambled to his feet, but he was too late.  Demigra brought down the scepter and pointed it at Trunks' head, and the energy ball crashed down on his target with brutal efficiency.  

For a moment, there was only the rumble and crash of Demigra's attack, punctuated by the pained howls from Trunks as he convulsed helplessly in the maelstrom.  

When it was over, Trunks lay helplessly on the rubble that was once the Toki Toki City martial arts stage.   He made a low groan, and his fingers and lips twitched as red energy continued to arc and ripple over his body.  

"Still alive..." Demigra observed.  "Not entirely unexpected, but I am impressed, Trunks.  After all that, you might still get up from that and put up a decent fight.   Fortunately, you'll never get that chance.   Ah.   There we are."

He looked up into the sky and quickly spotted the Divine Tokitoki Bird flying overhead.  Trunks could sense the bird's presence, and he wanted to get up and fight, or at least call out to Tokitoki that he should fly away and find someplace safe.   But he couldn't find the strength to even speak.  All he could do was to watch in horror as Demigra held out his left hand and fired a beam of dark energy.   When it hit Tokitoki, the bird was transformed into a tiny sphere of orange light, which then flew straight down toward Demigra.  

Trunks had no idea what would happen next, but then he heard Demigra chewing, followed by an audible gulp.  It wasn't hard to imagine Tokitoki's fate, and Trunks closed his eyes tightly when he thought about it.  

He sensed Demigra's power rising.   And then, he heard Demigra crouch low beside Trunks.  He laid the orb of his scepter on Trunks' chest, and chuckled for a moment before he spoke.  

"Now then," he said.   "It's time you and I had a discussion, Trunks, about your future with the Time Patrol..."

*******

     [12 September, Age 778.  North Kai Planet.]  

It was difficult for her to comprehend.  It was similar to the sensations she felt when the Scroll of Eternity transported her through time, or when the Dragon Balls brought her to Toki Toki City, but this was something different altogether.  It was as if her body momentarily ceased to exist, and then resumed existing as if nothing had happened.  

She looked around and found herself in a completely different environment.   The gravity was stronger, and the horizon was oddly curved.  It reminded her of a small planetoid, except there was a breathable atmosphere and grass under her feet.   The sky was pink, instead of the blue of mid-day in West City.  In the distance, Luffa could see a vast expanse of golden clouds, over which the planetoid seemed to float like a buoy in the ocean.  

There was a road on the planetoid, and a shiny red automobile parked near a dome-shaped house.   It reminded Luffa very much of Chronoa's personal quarters in the Time Nest.   Then she noticed the monkey watching her nearby.  

"Hey, Bubbles!" Goku said as he waved to the monkey.  "I'm back, and I brought someone with me."

Bubbles studied Luffa for a moment and made several enthusiastic primate sounds.  

"Luffa, this is Bubbles," Goku said.  "Bubbles, Luffa.  C'mon, we need to see King Kai."

Goku proceeded into the house, leaving Luffa and Bubbles looking at each other in an awkward silence.  

"Uh, nice to meet you," Luffa finally said.  

Bubbles only made primate sounds in reply.  

She shook her head, and followed Goku into the house.  

There, she found him talking to a short, chubby man in a black robe.   He had pointed ears like Chronoa, but that was where the similarities seemed to end.  His skin was a pale blue, and there were a pair of barbels dangling from the sides of his mouth, which made him look somewhat like a fish.   His eyes were concealed behind a pair of dark sunglasses, and there was a black skullcap covering his head.   A pair of antennae extended from the cap, though from the way they moved, Luffa couldn't tell if they were part of the hat or King Kai's anatomy.  

"Of course I didn't touch it, Goku," King Kai insisted.   "It's not my place to interfere in the affairs of the Kaioshin.  I haven't kept my position over the North Galaxy for this long by defying my superiors!"   At last he noticed Luffa and said, "Oh, it's you!"

Goku gestured to the scroll which lay on King Kai's table.   "Does this look familiar to you, Luffa?" he asked.  

"Yeah," Luffa said, stepping closer to inspect it.   "It's not the same one that I used to get here, but... Well, I never understood that part.   Trunks and Chronoa always said there was only one Scroll of Eternity, but we had thousands of them piled up in the Time Vault.   They were all the same Scroll, somehow, but only one of them would glow purple when there was a problem.  Anyway, this one seems to be in good shape, but why did she leave it with you two?"

"She gave it to Goku," King Kai said.  "But I knew he'd lose it if he took it with him to the fight, so I told him to leave it here until he was finished.  Uh... if you don't mind me asking, aren't you going to change back?"

"We're not finished fighting yet," Luffa said as she pointed to her hair.   "I have a feeling things are going to get wild back at Toki Toki City, and I want to be ready."  

"Well, your boss said I can use this scroll to get there," Goku said.  "She didn't tell me how it worked, though, but if you know what to do, then we should be able to get there in no time!"

"There's not much to it," Luffa said.   "You just pick it up and you get sent to the the time period in the Scroll."

"But that can't be right," King Kai said.  "Goku handed it to me after the Supreme Kai of Time left, and then I put it here.  And neither of us went anywhere."

Luffa shrugged.   "I guess you're right," she said.   "Now that I think about it, Trunks and Chronoa were always handling the Scrolls before I used them, and it never mattered until I picked them up.   Maybe it only works for a particular person?"

"Well in that case," Goku said, "Why don't you try holding it, and I'll put my hand on your shoulder.  That way, if you end up going somewhere, I should go with you, right?"

Luffa shook her head and went to the table.   "I don't know if it works that way," she said, "but it's worth a try.  All I know is that I need to get back to the City as soon as I can."

As she approached the scroll, she felt Goku's hand on her shoulder, and she winced.  There was something... odd... about Goku that she couldn't place, although his overly personable manner had something to do with it.  She looked back at him, and he was smiling and giving a thumbs-up sign with his free hand.  

"All right," she said as she picked up the Scroll.   "Here goes nothing..."

At first, nothing happened, and then she suddenly felt the now-familiar sensation of being drawn back to the Time Nest.  It was working!  The world went white around her, and a few moments later...

*******

     [21 April.  Age 850.  Toki Toki City.]  

...Luffa found herself back in the Time Vault.  

"Well how about that, Kakarot?" she said.   "It worked-- huh?"

She turned to speak to him, only to find he was no longer there.   She hadn't even noticed his hand was no longer on her shoulder.  

"Kakarot?" she asked.  Then she looked around and realized there was no one else in the Time Vault either.   She had hoped that Chronoa could explain her plan, and how Goku and King Kai were supposed to factor into it.   But the Supreme Kai of Time was nowhere to be found.   Neither was Trunks, nor the Divine Toki Toki Bird.  

"But that's not right," Luffa said.   "The bird lives here, and Trunks was supposed to be standing guard at all times!  Where could they--?"

For a moment, she considered checking the lower levels of the Time Vault.   Chronoa had recently shown her the "isolation ward" housed underground, where she stored various sensitive time anomalies and time-displaced persons.   It was designed so that no one on the outside could sense anyone on the inside, and so it occurred to her that Trunks and Chronoa might have sought shelter there.  

But she rejected this idea.   They wouldn't hide in a bunker during a crisis.   More importantly, Luffa had never learned how to get into the isolation ward.   She had never seen anyone enter or leave, except through time travel.  It was possible that there was no physical entrance, and only Chronoa knew the secret.  

Then Luffa noticed the Scroll of Eternity lying on the great octagonal table.   This was the scroll that had glowed purple, and had taken Luffa to the battle in West City.   The scroll on King Kai's planet was different, apparently, since this one had never left the Time Vault.  The purple glow had subsided, indicating that Luffa and Goku had successfully resolved that temporal incursion.   But normally Trunks or Chronoa would have put the scroll back in storage.  

"They must have left in a hurry," Luffa said.  "Which means--!"

She flew up the stairs-- literally flew, for she no longer cared about Chronoa's rules about flight in the city-- and burst through the doorway leading out of the Vault.  She intended to check Chronoa's house first, but the sight of the Time Nest grounds stopped Luffa in her tracks.  

There were small flames in the grass, and large chunks of displaced earth.   She could smell the sweat and feel the lingering traces of the ki that had been used here recently.   It was like so many other battlefields she had seen in her lifetime.  

Luffa rushed to the large arch at the edge of the Time Nest.  There was a great portal, which shimmered like the surface of a reflecting pool standing impossibly on its edge.  The portal led to the rest of Toki Toki City.   There was no way to know what was going on there until she passed through it and saw for herself.  Luffa steeled herself and stepped through to the other side.    

She thought she would be ready for anything.   She had expected to find the other Time Patrollers locked in a pitched battle with Demigra and whatever minions he brought with him.   On some level, she had imagined that the battle had already happened without her, and the Time Patrollers would all be celebrating on the other side.   Deep down inside, in a part of herself she refused to acknowledge, she wished that she could wake up in her own native era, and discover that a great many events in her life had all been a dream.  

But as Luffa emerged from the Time Nest, she found the main square of Toki Toki City completely deserted.  There had been a gigantic hourglass suspended there, surrounded by enormous brass cogs that turned and clicked throughout the day.  These now lay in broken pieces throughout the street.  And there, floating in their place...

"Demigra," Luffa said with a contemptuous growl.  

The Demon God looked down at her and made one of his unctuous smiles.   "Ah, Luffa," he said.   "I was wondering when you would show up.  Did you enjoy that little skirmish I arranged for you?   I trust it wasn't too taxing."

 NEXT: Under New Management?

[myremains]

Next year marks the 2 decade mark for Stockholm based group Self Deception. They’re dropping their 6th album Destroy The Art, which is really quick seeing as number 5 only dropped last year, in no way a complaint I love these guys.

Straight away I wanna talk about the first single “Matthew McConaughey”, I adore it, it’s so much fun with a tinge of silly humour, but make no mistake it’s an absolute banger. Warm up those clicking fingers for “The Great Escape”, it’s got a nice swinging and sliding vibe going on with that chorus, it’s a really frisky song flirting with your eardrums, I can’t not move around to this. After already guesting on Dead By April’s last album, screamer Christopher Kristensen is returning the favour on “Lonliness”, it’s still got its pop sensibilities but its heavy as shit with many Blegh’s, which of course I thoroughly enjoyed, a sort of scratchy melodic chorus which is becoming a part of the trademark sound. “Blood & Scars” is another bruiser with a really emotionally charged chorus, it the build up that really gives it its character particularly with the drumming, much like album opener “Killocain” however that track got the twaaaaang on that riff, you know I’m a slut for twang. “Hysteria” is a decent song but it was just a touch too high on the pop sensibility scale for my liking, it’s got a couple screams but mostly it’s a sort of arena, it’s a similar story with “Beautiful Disaster” but not quite as strong.

Overall I think this album has been and will continue to be a success. They’re a band that really has found its vibe and style in the last couple albums and it just keeps getting more refined with each one. I was absolutely gutted to miss them at Dead By April’s tour earlier this year but I’m on the lookout for any more UK dates!

[8/10]