#naw sorry I don’t like the texture

[cranberrybogmummy]

Silly short scifi with no plot

Very silly scifi.

Eldritch Cat Possum

I was headed to Zeno VI, for MEGASKULL FEST, the biggest  goth, metal and ultravoidcore music festival in this part of the galaxy, I’m lucky my friend Norma owns and the Spacegull, and has a rep for being the one of the fastest cargo ship pilots in the galaxy. I don’t get to see her much, but we text on the galas-net all the time. So when she offered me a ticket , of course I’d go. We’re at a lucky fill up service space station about three and half light years from Zeno VI, when the strike happened. Now I respect the android union and think android rights are very important but apparently Careworth inc doesn’t and tried to slip some bullshit past them in their contract.

Which means every android immediately gets the signal and they all shut down, even those who don’t work for Careworth and we’re fucked.

Androids can be hard to spot sometimes, since all of them are humanoid, have synthetic skin and generally look humanoid, if they don’t disclose you won’t know. During a strike you know though. A server at the lucky fill up all in one café stopped in mid stride, just stopped walking and stood there perfectly still.  So did the janitor who was watching the cleaning drones (The drones which are simple robots kept scrubbing).

Norma had been applying makeup in the bathroom. Her outfit was perfect, all black fishnets and black vinyl dress that glimmered darkly,  but only half her make up was done.

“I just got the update, a STRIKE?!” She pouted. “Can’t the fuckers at Careworth respect the union?!”

“Yeah,” I looked up at the vid screens on the wall. “Galaxy wide.”

“Well I guess Megaskull fest is gonna be delayed anyhow,” She said. “A shit ton of their roadies are androids.”

“Everything is gonna be delayed,” gurgled a krakenite fellow traveler as it oozed across the floor. “I’ll never get back for my sister’s eggs hatching.”

“Oh that sucks,” I said. “That’s a big deal, meeting new family members.”

“Yeah, all I have to feed the new babies will be spoiled,” It gurgled sadly and turned a faint blue. “High quality seafood too, from Eden III.”

“You can use the stasis pod in my ship if you want, it’s top of the line,” Norma offered.

“Thanks,” said the Krakenite.”Lemme get back to the ZippyZoom Spaceline, in the docking bay.”

“Cool, we’ll walk you to the Sapcegull,” Norma replied.

“Hey you didn’t give us your name,” I asked the Krakenite.

“It’s well…. Errrr…” It began. “The thing is our language is not easy for non-cephaloids to say…”

“Is it because we can’t change color and texture?” Norma asked as we walked along.

“…Yeah,” It said sheepishly, turning pink. “I think my Humanoid name would be …. ’Sharoona.’”

It changed to a pulsing purple briefly and looked velvety.

“I heard that Krakenite is not your real species name?” Norma asked.

“..Yesh,” Sharoona bubbled. “We picked it though for you non-cephaloids to say, we like the metaphor and consider it a compliment.”

Sharoona waved their tentacles enthusiastically as they talked.

“Wow, really?” Norma said. “That’s amazing, I thought it was kinda ya know…”

“….Bigoted?” Sharoona finished. “Naw, trust me, I live in a mostly humanoid colony, I’ve heard some bullshit. And If it was a slur, I’d have punched you. It’s not, WE picked it, we like it.”

We got to the ZippyZoom Space liner, a passenger spaceship, a metal tube with seats. The human  steward blocked us.

“Excuse me,” they said as politely as possible. “I’m terribly sorry but only ZippyZoom customers are allowed—“

“— uhh, yeah, I’m the customer,” said Sharoona. “I’m getting my shrimps, these goths offered to store them for me.”

“Look, Sir or madam or them, I’m our stasis compartments will be sufficient for …” The ZippyZoom Steward said their customer service grin still plastered on their face as they lied.

“Naw, it was leaking when I got on,” said Sharoona and simply squeezed past them.

The Steward stopped grinning as soon Sharoona had gone by, they were now glaring at us.

“Fuckin’ Octocunt,” The steward grumbled under their breath. “Between these pushy calamari and the beep-boops ‘striking’..”

We both shot the steward a look, they glared back.

“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking…” They grumbled.

“No only you are thinking that, asshole.” Norma said.

Then thankfully Sharoona oozed back a box presumably full of shrimp held aloft.

“So where are you headed?” Norma asked.

“Oh Zeno VI, Turning City,” Sharona said.

“No way, we are going to Zeno VI too!” Norma said.

“Are you offering to take me?” Sharoona asked.

“Well, it beats ZippyZoom,” Norma said.

“Yeah it was all I could afford.” Sharoona gurgled.

“No shame in that,” I said. “Look let’s all get on the spacegull, It’s a cargo ship so not as comfortable but Norma is one the fastest pilots in this wing of the galaxy.”

“Aw shucks,” Norma blushed. “Thanks Thomasin.”

“I mean how long could this strike last? Four hours?” I said.

[bebepac]

WIP 06.17.2020

Another WIP Wednesday is upon us, and I’m back to work.   I work the next 4 days (Wed-Sat)  so i’ll try my best to work on these stories and get them out, as always I will try, but can’t make any promises. I usually don’t have to work Saturdays, but unfortunately this one I do, so that eats into my writing time, which when I’m working, I do a lot of my writing time on the weekend.   

I am working on my last chapter of Scar Tissue before the Epilogue!  Whaaaaat?!?!??!??!!?!?  Thank you to everyone that’s liked, commented and shared this one.  As It’s the first series I have completed.   I’m sure if you messaged me about this story line, you guys know, my intent for Scar Tissue in the beginning was it to be a once shot, then I kept feeling like it had more potential, and then it evolved on me.  

What are my fellow writers up to?!?!!? 

Tagging: @queenjilian @burnsoslow @loveellamae  @dcbbw @bbrandy2002 @nomadics-stuff @kimmiedoo5 @cordonianroyalty @cordonia-gothqueen @lodberg @glaimtruelovealways @custaroonie @texaskitten30 @janezillow @atha68 @my0123456789universe @kaitycole @indiacater @losingbraincellseveryday @furiousherringoperatortoad @marietrinmimi @hopefulmoonobject @annekebbphotography @sevenfuckslefttogive @ac27dj @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @ritachacha @mrsdrakewalkerblog @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @islandcrow @axwalker @sanchita012 @queenwalton @flutistbyday2020  @the-soot-sprite @gabesmommie1130 @mom2000aggie @jared2612 @gibbles82  @thanialis @ramseysno1rookie @lovablegranny @hopelessromanticmonie @datynasuha @storylineofnothing @coolpsychicempathhumanoid @cordoniaqueensworld  @iaminlovewithtrr@thatdoctorownsme @seriallover99 @drake-colt-lover-99 @amandablink @kaishamarley @choiceswhodunnit @marshmallowsandfire @yukinagato2012 @princessemberphoenix @random-blog-of-random-stuff-etc @princess-of-fuckup​ @batgirlassociationofgothamcity​

First up we have:

This is Who I Am

My Country is Burning Chapter 3

Bebe was completely exasperated.  “Ellie! What is that in your hair?!?!?!?!?"

“I’m sorry Mommy."

"Is it chewing gum?"

"Yes, I fell asleep."

“With chewing gum in your mouth?”

Liam chuckled.   Both of them had agreed Ellie was more like him, with her mannerisms and her seriousness. Maybe Ellie was a little bit like Bebe too.  Bebe could fall asleep anywhere.  When Bebe was pregnant with Christopher, she fell asleep mid sentence, talking to him, while eating an ice cream cone. It was only when the ice cream started melting down her hand, Liam woke her up.  He thought it was hilarious,  pregnant Bebe did not, and cried because it was a waste of good mint chocolate chip ice cream.

“Yes.” Ellie nodded.

“Where did you even get chewing gum from?”

“Uncle Maxwell.”

"He hasn't been here in two weeks?"

"He gave me the whole pack."

She noticed Liam walk out of the room.

"Go get it and bring it here."

"But Mommy…."

"Right now Eleanor Alexandria Rys."

Little Ellie stormed off, just as Liam walked in the room.

"Where's she going?"

"To get the gum your friend gave her."

"Don’t look at me like that Bebe. Technically, that's your brother you know, since  House Beaumont sponsored you."

"I don't want to cut her hair Liam, she has such beautiful hair."

"You're not. Besides it's just hair. It will grow back."

Liam set the jar of peanut butter next to the comb.

"I mean it's different with Black hair. My hair doesn't grow nearly as fast as her's.  Just the thought of us cutting her hair upsets me. Because in the Black World, our children have good hair."

"Is there such a thing as evil hair?"  Liam played with Bebe's own curls, making scary, monster sounds. Bebe swatted Liam’s hand away from her hair.

"Yes there is, well bad hair.  There has always been a negative connotation that darker skinned people’s hair is more coarse and thick, and harder to manage."

"Your hair isn't like that."

"I'm lucky. Without chemicals in my hair, when I wet it, it curls, or coils, just like our children's hair does. Not every Black person’s hair does that."

"Mine curls like that too, well it gets wavy."

"Yes, but we have different textures, Liam.  My hair is more coarse than their hair, and the kid's hair is softer, than mine, but not as soft as your hair."

Ellie came back to the room in a huff. She handed Bebe the gum. Bebe raised her eyebrow giving her the Mad Mommy look.

"Miss Crown Princess, Queen Mommy is not liking that little attitude right now. It had better change fast."

"Mommy means business Ellie." Liam said as backup. 

Liam looked at their daughter, who her face was still pink, with her arms crossed over her chest, with a sour, pouty look on her face.  Even with her little mad face, he thought she was the most beautiful little girl in the world.  No wonder he was the pushover, when it came to disciplining the children.  Every time he looked at their children, he always thought that they made such beautiful children together.  

"What are we going to do about her hair?"

"I already got it. Peanut butter. As many times as I got gum in my hair as a kid thanks to Leo.  Ellie come here, Daddy will fix it."

Ellie looked back at Bebe. "Daddy, Mommy always does my hair. Do you know how?"

Liam's face registered shock, looking at Bebe for help.

"Daddy knows how to do this part to get the gum out, and Mommy will show him how to do the rest."

Liam pulled Ellie onto his lap, and worked the peanut butter around the gummed parts in Ellie's hair. Waiting for a few minutes then gently using the comb to get the gum out.

"Now we just have to wash it, so Daddy won't get hungry and add apple jelly to it too, and eat you up!"

He made munching sounds at Ellie as he kissed her cheek, causing her to giggle. He picked her up in his strong arms. Bebe followed them to  Ellie's bathroom.

  ^*^*^*^*^* next story *^*^*^*^*^*

A Couple of Firsts 

Pop’s Place Chapter 3

“So since your plan is for us to catch our dinner, I packed us lunch, Drake. Cuz there is no way in hell my F.A. is going to be on a boat all day starving to death. “

Drake laughed. “Don’t call yourself that Mia.”  

She slapped her thighs.  “What do you call that?”

“Sexy as hell.”  He kissed Mia’s lips.  

“Smart Man.”  Mia giggled.

“I packed roast beef and cheese sandwiches,  turkey and cheese, and because i’m a kid at heart, some PB & J  as well. Some chips, some fruit, and sodas and water.”  

“Damn girl, we are not trying to live on this lake for a week, and what kind of J?”

“My favorite, apple jelly.”

“Mine too Mia.”    

“I just wanted you to have some choices. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I packed a little bit of everything.”  

Drake smiled.  He’d never had someone care so much about what he thought before.  

“I’m low maintenance that way, I’ll eat anything.  Turkey and cheese is fine, so is roast beef, even PB & J.  Hell I’d eat one of each, if there was extra.”

“She smiled, you’re going out with a cook’s daughter, there’s always extra. That’s how we roll.”  

She put the cooler on the table.  Drake laughed.

“Where the hell did you find a hot pink igloo cooler at?”

“The  Gentral, where else?” 

( author’s note:  The Gentral = Dollar General, a store that seems to be on every corner in the south, and you that was Walgreens, naw bro. It’s a Southern Thing, does a hilarious video where they are Dollar General execs, and they find out that they are not building new DG stores, that they are building themselves. HILARIOUS )

Drake smiled.  “You 'bout ready?”  

Mia grabbed her hot pink sunglasses.  “I’m ready now!”

 *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* next story *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

The Recovery

Scar Tissue Chapter 13 

Riley and Liam had been going to therapy for almost 9 weeks.  They had therapy sessions separately as they were dealing with separate things, and marriage counselling sessions together.

They walked in the office holding hands.  They never walked into the therapy room holding hands.  They were usually so tense, and nervous.  The therapist noted this as a positive step in the right direction as they had taken baby steps.  

Dr. Murdoch looked at the two of them.  

“How have things been since last week?  Queen Riley would you like to start?”

“Things went okay.  We moved back into our chambers from my old room this past week.  I’m sleeping through the night completely there, so is Liam.  I’m not having those panicky feelings in the room anymore like I'm being watched.”

“That’s good to hear  Queen Riley.  Did you do two complete the date nights I assigned?

“Yes and no.”

“The dinner date went great, I really had a nice time with Liam. It was just so nice just being the two of us, and we danced, and it was beautiful.”  

“So then the massage date didn’t go well then?”

“I have no problems when I touch him, but I clammed up when he touched me.”

“Because of Drake?”  Dr. Murdoch asked.

“Yes.”

Riley is it okay for me to go to Liam for a little bit to talk to him about things?”

Riley nodded.

She could tell by Liam’s body language he was angry and frustrated after what she had said.  

“I don't know what else I can do Dr. Murdock.  He studied what I did so he could use it against my wife, to make her think he was me,  and now he’s turned her against me.  It’s like he has tainted everything I’ve done, because he copied me so perfectly with her.  And I love my wife, and I just want to be able to make love to her again.  Laying next to her and not being able to touch her intimately is killing me.  The last time we tried to make love,  She screamed.  My wife screamed because I was touching her!!!!!!  Our guards burst into the room thinking she was being attacked.”  We haven’t been intimate in over 4 months now.  I miss her.” 

“You think I don’t miss you Liam?  Of course I miss you. I still want you.”

“THEN YOU SHOULD TRY HARDER!!!!”

“I AM TRYING LIAM!!!  WHEN YOU TOUCH ME, I SEE HIS FACE!!!!”

“We’re going to take a break.  King Liam,  I need you to step out a few minutes, so I can have a few minutes alone with Queen Riley okay?”

Liam got up and walked out slamming the door behind him.

“I don’t know if we’re going to make it through this. Dr. Murdock because I can't let him touch me. He needs a level of intimacy, I can’t give him.  I’ve even thought about asking him if there is anyone he wants to go into a Cordonian Agreement with, until I am able to give him what he needs again.”

“No, Queen Riley, that's not the answer.  I’m afraid if you go that route, it will permanently drive a wedge between the two of you.  You have to work through this together.  Can I ask you a question?”

*^*^*^*^*^*^* end of chapter teasers *^*^*^*^*^*

[corvid-lullaby]

FFxiv Write: Prompt #9: Lush

Characters: Nishiki, Kiryu Warnings: Slightly gross Relationships: Just bromance Notes: During Y0, humor, illness Word Count: 1,104 FFxivWrite2020 Master Post

~~~~~

“Hey… Kyoudai-... I’m not feeling so hot.” The words were waverly and weak, coming from a certain young Dragon of Dojima. Kiryu was sprawled across the ground, parallel to the rather fine kotatsu that complimented Nishiki’s semi-luxurious apartment. Really, the koi never did spare a single yen when it came to this sort of stuff. Too bad that did nothing to comfort his oath brother, who looked to be on the verge of death.

An exhale of smoke was the initial reply, with the cigarette Nishiki was working on being snubbed out against the ashtray at the kotatsu’s center. Leaning over, in fact he flopped onto his side, he placed one hand at his own chin in thought, and his other hand’s palm lightly made impact with Kiryu’s forehead. Closing his eyes, he frowned, then nodded. “...Yeah you got a fever alright. What the hell happened to you? You walked out in the rain when I told you not to, didn’t you.”

Glancing up, Nishiki saw a rather pout-driven expression from his foster sibling. “I didn’t have a choice…” is what Kiryu mumbled with equal guilt in his voice.

Groaning, the ‘healthier’ one then sat up, hooked his arms underneath Kiryu’s at the armpits, and proceeded to drag him towards the bedroom. “Alright, time to take care of my kid bro--dang, did you gain weight or something-gah!” 

Kiryu’s body suddenly halted, thanks to the dragon grabbing the door frame from either side that he was currently being dragged through. Even at the angle Nishiki was at, he could see Kiryu’s cheeks were in full puff. Someone wasn’t happy about his last comment.

“Oh come on! I was joking!” A pause, but the grip didn’t change, judging by how he still didn’t budge when pulled. “Yo, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, okay?” Ah, finally. The grip was released. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t out of Kiryu’s free will. The poor guy had fainted.

Groaning again, Nishiki pulled his futon to the ready, and tucked Kiryu in. Thankfully it was a simple flu, and the fever had gone down to a more reasonable level by morning. Of course Kiryu still felt like utter shit, and probably would for several more days. At least he was conscious now.

As for Nishiki, he had an old standby of medicines and antidotes, but for whatever reason he was in the mood to experiment. To find something a little better, and more natural preferably. After asking around at local food and herbal markets, he was pointed to a specific but common vegetable; Malabar Spinach. Not actually a true spinach, but, as he was told, had a lot of vitamins and was even high on antioxidants. It sounded perfect for his sick sibling.

With that, he also got ingredients to make a classic dish that Kiryu enjoyed a lot when he was ill; congee. It was started immediately upon returning home. For good measure and easy edibility, Nishiki even took the time to blend everything into a finer consistency. He did notice something wry about the texture, but he didn’t look into it too hard. It was a different vegetable being played with after all, so whatever.

Eventually a cooled bowl was given to the poor, ill Kiryu, who was propped up into a sitting position against the wall. The dragon smiled down at it, knowing all too well the effort Nishiki put into it. He was a good cook, and Kiryu loved congee, so the young dragon was very excited to give it a try.

And try he did!... But his face instantly screwed up into complete disgust. Oh no, it tasted fantastic. That wasn’t the problem. The problem came from the texture. It was… the slimiest thing he had ever eaten. The entire thing was thick, sticky, gooey--like a literal mouth full of snot. And so, Kiryu simply sat there, petrified still with the spoon still in his closed mouth. He couldn’t chew. He couldn’t even muster the strength to remove the spoon. He simply sat there, frozen, his eyes clenched shut into thin slits, … and looking quite a few shades both paler and greener.

“H-hey… You alright man?” Nishiki looked genuinely concerned.

Finally, after a handful of minutes, although it felt like lifetimes to him, Kiryu finally swallowed. He made a sort of groaning noise, but it sounded… a little too moist. Bubbly, even. It only made both of them have their faces screw up even more, with Nishiki leaning to gently rub the other’s shoulder.

“I-uhh… Hey you don’t gotta eat it if it’s that bad, you know-”

“Naw, it’s fine. I can take it. You said it was really good for me, didn’t you?”

“Y-yeah but-”

Nishiki couldn’t finish his words before Kiryu’s hand shakily shoveled up another spoon full and let it slide disgustingly into his mouth. Was the shaking from him being ill from his illness or from the food? Your guess is as good as mine. Again his face screwed up, but worse this time when a piece of stray stem forced him to chew on it. Like the tough champ he was, he eventually finished the entire bowl.

A moment of silence, before, “You finished it.”

“Yeah…”

“...”

Suddenly Kiryu shot up onto his feet and made a bee line for the restroom. It was safe to say why, without detail. The grotesque sounds of heaving and liquid contact was plenty enough to paint a picture, to Nishiki’s dismay. At least Kiryu was proud to have kept most of it down and having finished the entire bowl.

Until he found out there was an entire pot left.

The koi insisted over and over that he didn’t need to eat it, but Kiryu couldn’t be swayed from his stoic personality. Over the next few days, even after he fully recovered from his illness, which moved on faster than usual, he still continued to eat it down to the last drop. Thankfully he grew accustomed to the texture by then. Being the type to conquer literally anything that looked him down helped. That and he genuinely enjoyed the flavor of the congee, so he was happy that he got to honestly enjoy it in the end. 

What was even more strange was something he noticed in the mirror after a few more days had passed. That morning, he leaned close to inspect his reflection. Kiryu was young, but his skin felt even more youthful and supple. Even his hair was more hydrated and healthy looking. Was it from that spinach? It could have been. He didn’t mind, though.

He was lush. ✨✨✨

[thejackal64]

Star vs The Forces of Evil: Hidden Truth | Chapter 4: Hidden Truth

A couple days had passed since Janna, Star, and Marco’s exhibition through the Forest of Certain Death. Throughout the hike, nothing of importance (or creepiness) happened which seemed to disappoint Janna, but that didn’t stop her from aweing at the majesticness of Mewni Castle. The Queen and King weren’t too happy that Star had brought another human to stay in Mewni Castle, but they didn’t seem to put up much resistance. Instead they nagged Star about letting humans go through the Forest of Certain Death, mostly referring to Janna as Marco had proven himself as a capable fighter. But something was off with the forest, as if the whole thing was focusing on a fixed point, as if it was ignoring the teens. Star said that nothing of interest was in there, but certain whisperings and ruffles in the bushes caused by bunnies.. After some arguing between the royal family, the Queen and King let it go, and allowed Janna to stay in the Castle but only as a guest of Star.

A couple days had passed; nothing was happening, all except for one peculiar thing. Throughout the last few days, when Star walked around a specific point of the castle, her wand started to glow.

“Why do you think it’s like this? Is it going to explode?” Star joked.

“Naw. It’s pretty slick though.” Janna said, spreading her toes across the hallway.

When Marco first noticed it, he had a different response. “Whenever your wand glows, something bad starts happening. You should get it checked up.”

Some time passed and the glow had lost it’s charm. It had actually started to blink in her bedroom.

Janna, who had been sleeping in her room for the last few days, never seemed to mind, but for Star it was the last straw.

“I’m putting an end to this!”

Star jumped out of her bed. Tripping over every useless object and item of clothing that Janna and herself had left on the floor, she managed to find the door. Janna didn’t seem to have noticed and the blinking was starting to lessen as Star made her way down to her best friend’s room.

She slowly opened the creaking door, making sure not to wake anyone up. The night light of Mewni reflected the boy’s room, a room Star had made him as a perfect replica of his room on Earth. Star entered, her wand’s glow now fully extinguished. She sneakily walked next to the sleeping Marco and gave him a quick shake to wake him up. Once that didn’t work, she shook him to the best of her ability. Not only did this wake up the boy, but also freaked him out enough for him to fall of his bed.

He quickly stood back up in a karate pose assuming the worst. He let out a loud, “WHO'S THERE?!” before Star put her index finger up to his mouth. “Shhh, we need to be silent. We don’t want to wake up anyone else, especially my parents, because they-”

“Uhm, Star?”

“Yes?”

“I haven’t said a word for a good couple of seconds.”

Only then she realized she was still touching his lips. “Oh, sorry, I uhm.. Heh.” She nervously chuckled and created what she hoped to be a sincere smile to ease up the situation. It wasn’t. Marco, strangely, didn’t seem to mind that much. “Aaaaaanyway, this stupid glow of wand of mine has been bugging me for days and I wanna find out why.”

“Sounds good,” he nodded his head in agreement. “But why did you wake me up when you have Janna sleeping in your room?”

Star froze. That was a pretty good question. “Because, uhm… you’re Marco, hehe.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t explain anything.”

“Oh, come on. We always go on adventures together. Besides, Janna is… well, Janna. She always somehow manages to make weird comments that turn completely normal situations into awkward silence.”

Marco looked at Star's right hand. Star looked at her right hand. And to her dismay, she found it on Marco’s shoulder. How the heck did it get there? And when?!

“You mean like right now?”

“Shut up and help me.”

Marco pushed her pale arm away and questioned, “But Star, why are we doing this in the middle of the night?”

“Weeeell..” The princess started sheepishly “... After what happened with Toffee, my mom is still a little bit on edge. And the fact that Eclipsa escaped didn’t help the matter. If my mother even hears her name...”

A voice was heard from the other side of the hallway...

“WHO’S THERE?! SHOW YOURSELF!” The voice was a mixture of anger, fear and anxiety.

“Honey, why are you shouting at an empty hallway?”

“I heard Eclipsa. At least, I think I did.”

“Sweetheart, she isn’t here. For all we know she might not even be in Mewni anymore. Come back to bed, we can cuddle a little and then-” the voice disappeared after doors closed.

Star and Marco were both kneeling close to the room’s wall.

“You see?” whispered Star. “She wasn’t this scared even when Toffee was around. We need go.”

As the two teenagers trekked down the dark hallway, Star’s new wand glowed brighter than it had before. The two of them blocked their eyes from the glow, which proved to make walking in general rather hard. Marco, pretty annoyed by the situation, took off his hoodie, exposing himself to the night’s cold breeze, and wrapped it around the glowing wand. Marco’s gray shirt hugged his body tightly. As they walked, Star tried not to stare. Marco, on the other hand, seemed unfazed as he mostly seemed relieved that most of the blinding light was gone. An awkward silence started to creep onto both teens. This was the first time that Star and Marco have been by themselves in complete peace since the End Of School Party at the Diaz house. The tension between them was thick.

Star couldn’t help but think, “He knows.”

After a while it seemed Marco was going to say something, before he was interrupted by Star, “Oh thank Mewni we’re finally here!” An awkward chuckle escaped Marco’s mouth, “Yeah…” They walked into the tapestry filled room; the wand glowing brighter than ever before. Marco’s hoodie didn’t seem to be holding back the light as well now. After a bit of wandering, they passed by a specific tapestry which seemed to set off the wand, which abruptly let out a truly blinding spell. Luckily the two best friends noticed beforehand and covered their sensitive eyes. An explosion of light devoured the whole room, a room isolated enough from the rest of the castle, for no one else to seem to notice the glowing hell that just occurred. Marco hesitantly lowered his hand from his face. When he saw that the coast was clear, he lowered Star’s hand for her.

Star looked around the rather normal seeming room.

“Star?” Marco grabbed Star’s hand and pointed at the wall right behind them. A large silhouette of a framed picture hung over. The tapestry of an unrecognisable Queen of Mewni stood broken into pieces before them. Star looked around, she had never remembered there being a shattered tapestry, she didn’t remember there being a tapestry on that wall in the first place. Marco wandered in the dark, silent room, with what felt like vindictive eyes staring at him. “Who would guess that there was this whole artwork on this wall, and nobody ever noticed?” he thought.

After a bit of searching, Marco found two pathways leading to a dark abyss that he hadn’t seen when he first entered the room. “Star!” He yelled. She walked over and Marco explained, “Those weren’t in here when we walked in, right?”

Star contemplated Marco’s discovery and came to what she thought was a sensible solution. “There was obviously an obscuring spell here….” She looked at Marco with the eyes of a kid that had a new toy within its reach. Marco knew it would be pointless to argue with her. “Maybe….. one of them can explain that mysterious tapestry over there or the wand acting all weird…” Marco glanced at Star with a face of concern that the princess was very used to.

“Are you sure Star? I don’t even think these hallways have an end to them.” Star scoffed at the idea, stating, “Come on Diaz, every inch of this castle has been dissected, if this really was dangerous they would have blocked it off.” Marco let out a sigh of reluctant acceptance. “You’re the princess.” “Yes I am..” They both walked into their respective pathways letting the darkness of the hallways consume them.

Star POV

At first, all Star could see was an empty void, nothing growing, nothing moving. Occasionally, she felt the soft texture of moist moss under her boots. The endless darkness was disturbing to Star, but was also strangely soothing…. Like she could take a nap here and forget about her problems…. Forget about Eclipsa, Mewni,..... And Marco.

She obeyed the strange force of nature, and curled up into a ball on the floor. The darkness beckoned, it slithered towards her. She couldn’t do anything.

Then the screaming began.

Tendrils of colored smoke burst out of Star’s eyes, causing her to yell out in agony. The mist curled around her legs and arms, forcing her to stay put. Her eyes bulged with piercing pain, and a strange dream started to unfold around her.

She saw herself and Marco….. Happy? Holding hands…… That was normal for them. But Star could see the way she looked at Marco, with crushed eyes and amourae. That was normal as well. But something was different….. Marco was looking at her this way too! Was this…. A vision? Was she and Marco destined to be together?!

Star would have been pulsating in joy if she wasn’t being controlled by the mist.

But the dream went on, and quickly flipped through the months. The once happy couple started to deteriorate, the image crumbling into dust, replaced by both of them with a scowl on their faces, staring away from each other.

Star felt something rise in her gut….. Guilt. Was this how they would end? Whose fault was it…… Probably mine.

The dream continued, showing images of both Star and Marco getting older, and consequently further apart. Somewhere along the line, Marco disappeared entirely, leaving Star with a crown on her head. Her cheek marks were faded.

NO.

This isn’t how it’s going to happen.

I’ll make sure of it. I’ll be careful.

Star hesitated, as the dream and mist started washing away with the wind.

If we dare to start something…… Even knowing how it’ll end……

Wait, no…. No….. I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Marco and Jackie, I mean, look at them!

You know you want to.

No. I’ll…. I’ll stay his friend. I’ll be supporting. Maybe….. Maybe in the future. Maybe…..

I can’t stay like this. Not like whatever I am now, half of what I used to be. I need…. Marco.

I’ll have to risk it.

Star sighed, the mist unshackling her. The way out was clear, and a thick papery piece of the tapestry was on the floor, revealing the mysterious figure’s right side. She was obviously beautiful, with curly blond hair, not unlike Star’s. An imprint of a crown could be seen as well.

She stared up at the sky.

The first piece had been found.

Marco POV

Marco trekked on, unwielding and strong. He managed to resist the temptations of the mist, evercurling. Marco would swat away the tendrils as they marched towards him, keeping them at bay. However, it never really left, and only grew more intense.

“Great.” Marco muttered, ”First the wand, and now this?”

Marco could hear faint watery noises underneath, as the plit pat of puddles started to appear. Obviously this tunnel wasn’t well kept at all. However, the light of day was coming closer and closer, and Marco could see the faint imprint of a tapestry piece. Smiling, he momentarily lost focus, and the mist suddenly grappled his ankles.

Yelling out at the sudden touch, Marco tried to swat the mist away, in vain as the tendrils swam up his body, and dug at his head. He fell on the ground, trembling in fear.

The smoky mess started to form around him into two familiar figures: Him and Jackie. They sort of floated around each other, growing further and further apart. Marco watched in horror as Jackie and himself started yelling at each other, with it all culminating in Jackie throwing a brick at him and stomping off.

Was….. This the future of their relationship? It couldn’t be…. Right? What would possibly be strong enough to bring their perfect bond apart?

Star.

Marco froze in contemplation, his brain warring with itself.

No, she wouldn’t do this to me! She’s my friend, she understands how I feel!

Yeah right. Have I been even looking at her? She wants me, I’m sure. If she hadn’t burst out that she had a crush on me, everything would be fine. If she didn’t have a crush to begin with, everything would be perfect.

She can’t control that, and I know it.

And think about it…. Don’t you feel the same too?

Marco’s anger started to bubble up.

NO. NO. Jackie is my one and only. I’ve always had a crush on her. I don’t love Star… I don’t. I do NOT…. Agh. Me and Jackie belong together. If Star can’t figure that out……

I. Only. Like. Jackie.

The tendrils retreated, withering away, but never really leaving. However, it left a clear enough path for Marco to proceed into the light. The tapestry piece was hanging on the wall, showing the left side of the original tapestry. Marco could see the ornate contents, the crown, and most mysterious of all, the wand. It was held in her left fist, being held almost forcefully. It was deep blue in color, with the crystal appearing light purple in the shape of an orb, with a small sand clock inside. Burning Pheonix wings shutted out from the sides.

The second piece was found.

Both teens independently walked out of the pathways. Both ended up back in the tapestry room.

Silence.

“I found a piece…” Star exclaimed, breaking the silence. Marco didn’t respond but instead lifted his right arm showing her his piece of the tapestry. “Right…” Star started walking toward the mysterious, shattered picture, and Marco closely followed. Although they both held rather large chunks of the tapestry, it wasn’t enough to show its full picture. A sizable piece in the middle was missing; the tapestry wasn’t complete. Although the mystery of this tapestry wasn’t solved, both friends weren’t willing to investigate further, at least not now.

As they walked back to their rooms, as if to forget that the events of the night even happened, a metaphorical fog of guilt and tension crept in. The fog was thick, unnerving. The two of them used to be so open with each other, but it was obvious that there was something they were hiding from each other and from themselves, something that they didn’t want known, nor were willing to admit, or so they thought.

Star, trying to blow away the fog, asked Marco an inadvertently heavy question. “So...that hallway, huh?” she let out an awkward chuckle. Her attempt of alleviating tension only reinforced it. Marco was silent.

A million thoughts ran through his mind. “What am I doing? I left my girlfriend to stay with Star in another DIMENSION! Who am I kidding? NO! I LOVE JACKIE! ... What did she see? Should I address it? After so long… of chasing what seemed like an impossible dream, I have it, I have the perfect girlfriend.” The boy gazed over at Star who was staring forward as stiff as a board. She was beautiful, with her long blond hair…. A little like Jackie’s actually. She would look a lot like her if she cut her hair short.

“At least I thought…”  After what felt like hours of contemplating to Marco, he blurted out a response. “Yeah...it was pretty wild?” Star knew that Marco wasn’t comfortable, she knew that whatever the boy saw had to do with her… and Jackie.

Star and Marco reached their respective bedrooms. They both knew that what happened tonight wasn’t going to be mentioned any time soon. They were aware of the conflict inside each of their heads, they read each other like a book. They knew more than what the other thought. They were best friends, nothing more, just friends. They…

They both learned an important lesson tonight. Whether they realized it or not. Faced with the worst of their fears. It was hard to believe they could overcome them…...

[deans-fire-dragon]

What Comes After, SPN Fanfic, Gen, Chapter 10 part C

...continued from part b...

As soon as the door closed, Dean threw the congealed bacon back on the plate with a plop. He wrapped his arms around his middle, leaning forward until his forehead rest on the table. Hollowed out, he sighed and let his head roll to the side. He was sick of the ice block camping out in his gut, sick of the heaviness pulling at him constantly. He’d forgotten what it felt like to truly feel well. Maybe he was a corpse that didn’t yet know it was dead?

Everything was flat. The flavor of food, the temperature of coffee—even the colors around him seemed muted, slightly off. Dean didn’t want to scare Sam, but he scaring himself. Truth was, he wasn’t sure killing the shadow creature and unbinding Jessica would stop this. How could he be sure of anything when they had no precedence for this?

The only certainty he had was in how much he ached. His chest burned, his back throbbed and a whopper headache stabbed his brain relentlessly despite the medication saturating his system. Had he been alone, truly alone, he’d have curled up under a mass of blankets and let come what may.

He must’ve drifted off, because, in the next minute, the door opened again, letting Sam enter balancing two large coffees in a to-go container. Dean jerked into a sitting position, grinding his teeth on a moan when he remembered why that was a bad idea.

“Hey, if you’re tired, go rest after you eat. I can start researching and we’ll talk later.”

“Naw, I’m good.” He rubbed his gritty eyes hoping it would help the blurriness, but when he blinked, a hazy halo fuzzed everything.

“Here ya go,” Sam said as he dropped a plastic fork onto the table in front of Dean. “Too bad this place doesn’t have a microwave, huh? I could see if they’d let me use the microwave at the gas station?”

The false brightness lifting Sam’s words drew Dean’s focus to his little brother. Sam hovered beside him, the worry practically vibrating Dean’s teeth. For a brief moment, he imagined Sam cutting up the pancake for him and maybe even force-feeding it to him, such was the manic twitch of Sam’s fingers.

Dean picked up the fork and glared at the pancake. He didn’t think heating it up would make it more appetizing, but with Sam standing there watching intently, he cut into the cake and stuffed a bite in his mouth, forcing his jaws to move.

“I’m good. See?” He smiled with his mouth full. It was enough to get Sam moving on to other things.

The food tasted of nothing, just wet, sticky mush coating his teeth and tongue. He had to concentrate on keeping repulsion from clogging his throat, gag building in his gut. Taking a gulp of his coffee, he was disappointed to find it wasn’t much better. Though it looked black as tar, the taste was barely that of coffee water. It didn’t have the texture of mush, though, which was something. Mechanically, he shoved food in and forced himself to chew and swallow. Sweat broke out all over his body from the effort.

Sam reappeared to take the other seat and stole the last piece of cold bacon from the plate. Thank God. Dean raised an eyebrow at his salad loving brother only to double-take when he realized Sam’s hair was wet. His brother had apparently showered and dressed in fresh clothes all while he’d been grappling with the food.

“What?” Sam said, unaware of Dean’s inner thoughts. “I enjoy bacon.” Sam shrugged.

Dean simply pointed at the computer and drank another mouthful of coffee so he wouldn’t have to speak.

Wiping greasy fingers on the side of his jeans, Sam pulled the machine closer. “So? Creature or spell?”

Dean laid his fork aside. Nausea slow-rolled through his stomach with an uncertain turn.

“Creature.” He belched, one hand creeping up to rub at his stomach.

Shooting him a look of disgust, Sam opened his browser, letting his fingers hover over the keyboard. “So, what are we thinking?”

“Definitely the phantom variety. I’m thinking ancient and pissed.”

“And you know that because?”

“Yesterday I found ectoplasm where that girl, Julia, died.”

Sam’s jaw clenched as he sighed out his nose. “So, you went to not one, but two scenes without me.”

He reached up with both hands and scrubbed at his face, hoping to rub the irritation away. He was so not in the mood for another Sam inquisition—his nerves and his patience were stretched to their limit. Lips pressed together in a thin line, he glared at his brother.

“It was the freaking middle of the day. There was no reason it’d still be hanging around—especially that far out of the way. Even so, I doubt it would’ve been strong enough to hurt me there.”

“It had no problem killing Julia there.”

Oh, Dean hated that look. The one that said in blinking neon ‘you are the biggest moron on the planet.’ Maybe Dean hadn’t graduated with a diploma, and maybe Sam had enough brains for two people—but that did not make Dean the stupid one.

“Yeah, Sam,” Dean bared his teeth as his eyes narrowed, “an unsuspecting girl who was unprepared and caught off guard in the dark. She probably fed it all kinds of juicy emotion being alone like that. I’m hardly any of those things—I had full view of the whole area. Did I mention it was broad daylight? I’m not a drooling idiot despite what you think.”

Surprise defined Sam’s face and he held up his hands, palms out. “Whoa. I didn’t mean—”

“No, you never do,” Dean growled, “at least not to my face, but it’s what you really think.”

The words popped out before his brain could abort—something he rarely ever allowed. Now Sam regarded him with wide, slightly hurt eyes and no small amount of worry. The frustration and anger fled so quickly, he was left aching and empty.

“I’m sorry.” Dean bowed his head, rubbed his forehead with a shaky hand. “I’m an ass. Really, man, I’m sorry.”

If anything, his apology made things worse because now Sam had that constipated look he got when he wasn’t sure what emotion he wanted to lead with—concern, anger? Flip a quarter, Dean thought with an internal sigh.

“So,” Dean cleared his throat, swallowed to keep the food in place, and tried to steer things back on track, “we’re looking for something with ectoplasm, cats’ eyes—really tall, nasty claws and a nasty temper to match. And, wind. Wind tore the room apart despite the outside air being completely calm.”

Sam fixed his gaze on the floor and pursed his lips. At first Dean thought maybe he was waiting. For what, Dean didn’t know—the roof to fall on their heads, Dean to implode before his eyes—who could be sure when it came to Sam’s enormous capacity for worry. But then he realized his brother was contemplating whether or not to speak to him at all. Anger, it was.

“Sammy, please,” Dean whispered when all attempts to catch Sam’s eyes failed, “you can be mad at me all you want, but please—let’s figure this out.”

Just about the time Dean shifted to leave the table, Sam nodded. Stiffness making his voice flat, he said, “Okay, that’s a place to start.” He started typing in the search window. “What about the spell?”

He still wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes, but at least he was talking. Dean would take it with a smile on his face—as long as they kept moving forward.

“Now that, I don’t know. We know fire is involved and it requires an object that was important to the person. Probably used to bind the spirit?  I thought maybe…” Dean yawned, his jaw cracking loudly. “I thought we could put in a call to Bobby for that one.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam said. He stopped what he was doing and looked up. “I got it covered, why don’t you rest?”

The words came grudgingly, but they were said to Dean’s face and with sincerity. Sam’s face was still marred with a deep scowl, though, and that just wouldn’t do. Dean graced him with a blinding, goofy grin. Sam valiantly tried to ignore him, but he held firm, smile in place until his checks burned and a good portion of it became genuine.

Seeing Sam relenting, he topped it off with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Who’s your favorite brother?”

Finally, Sam’s lips twitched and he shook his head, grin sliding across his face. He narrowed his eyes and cracked, “If you’re not careful, it’s gonna get stuck that way. Jerk.”

As Sam’s eyes searched his, Dean could practically feel him pick right back up where he left off stewing.

“Dude, you’re sweaty and green. You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

Dean slumped against his chair. “No. But if I spew, it’s gonna be in your direction. I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

Sam’s obligatory glare lacked any real heat. “Go. Lay. Down.”

He glanced at the bed and wondered if he could get away with a few minutes. Sleep called like a siren and the meds had him wrapped in a fuzzy, woolen cocoon. He reasoned there was enough light in the room to keep him from dozing too soundly and his body could really use some rest. Plus, Sammy was here to watch over him. He trusted his brother to keep him safe.

“If I start to dream—at all—you wake me up. Got it?”

Sam nodded mindlessly, already immersed in some article on the internet.

“Sam,” he said sharply. “I mean it. Don’t let me dream.”

At that, his brother looked up. He took in Dean’s seriousness and said, “Sure, man. Don’t worry. I got it.”

Satisfied, Dean pushed his chair back and stood. A wave of dizziness swamped him and he grabbed for the table. He felt Sam catch his other wrist, steadying him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on that touch, wishing it felt solid on his numb skin like it should. He released the table to press the back of his hand to his mouth, swallowing hard and breathing deep through his nose until all was settled again. Blinking his eyes open, he looked down at his brother. Sam’s eyes were saucer wide, making him look so much the little kid Dean remembered—before all this, before the YED, before Stanford, before.

“Dean?”

“Stood up too fast.” He smiled, easy and calm.

Dean gently took his arm back, giving Sam’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he turned and walked unsteadily to his bed—shoulders twitching from being watched each step of the way. He crawled on top of the covers and settled with a hearty sigh, moaning his pleasure into the soft pillow he burrowed his face into and closed his eyes. He pushed all his fears into his worry box and slammed the door firmly shut. It felt luxurious to let go and sink into the bed. Screw consciousness, it was highly overrated anyway.

After a while, Sam’s breaths behind him calmed too and were joined by light tapping on the keyboard—making a soothing soundtrack to relax into. His stomach called a shaky truce and he was able to fall into sleep a short while later.

After indeterminate, blessed nothingness, the dreams came. They started out mild enough, but soon evolved into him on the ceiling, burning as Jessica reached out to him. As before, he was too grief stricken and wrapped in guilt to decipher the message.

This place—and he was sure it was a place—overpowered his senses, overrode reason. The acrid fire, the metallic blood, the scorching skin—all vivid and distinct. Sam’s inhuman, garbled screams rammed his battered heart and the smell of burning pork assaulted his nose—the lingering taste of ash pungent on his tongue. No bland numbness, no fuzzy head and blurring vision to save him here. Pain bubbled and peeled his skin, every nerve dancing in sharp agony.

This time, instead of slamming him repeatedly against the ceiling, Jessica laid a hand on his face, the icy cold of her drawing some of the heat away. A relieved groan escaped him, the flames receding down the length of his body at her cooling touch.

“Dean,” she said, drawing her hand down his face, resting it on his lower jaw. “Please, let go.”

His eyes opened and he blinked at her. “Let go? I-I don’t know…I—

“Let go,” she whispered inches from his face. “It’s time. Stop.”

Dean stared into her blue-blue eyes—compassion and something he didn’t understand held him captive. Maybe she meant for him to let go of life. Maybe that’s how Sam would find release, if he let go. But, he couldn’t. There was something dangerous out there. He couldn’t leave Sam to fight alone. He couldn’t without making sure he was safe first. Maybe then, maybe then he could.

“I can’t,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Sam…”

Jessica whipped around to look behind her. Dean couldn’t see beyond the flames, didn’t know what she was looking at, but he felt her touch slip away. The fire took over in her absence. He squeezed his eyes shut and sealed his lips against the scream clawing at his throat. His chest heaved with moans as he failed. A large hand rested on his chest, right over his heart—a heavy, steadying weight. An additional hand joined the first to grip his upper arm and, while this touch didn’t take the pain instantly away, it dulled it into the background.

From a distance, he could hear his name.

“Dean! Please. Please wake up.”

He tried to resist, he didn’t want to see. Nausea grew in his gut until he gagged with it. A rippling sensation rolled over his body and he struggled to breathe through the gossamer shroud enveloping him.

“Dean, hey!”

Sam’s voice pulled him against the barrier separating them. But he didn’t know which Sam he would see if he opened his eyes. A biting burn deep in his neck forced his eyes open, air flooding into his lungs. His Sam, the real Sam, leaned over him, ashen and sweaty—looking sick. Which, yeah.

“Gonna be sick!” Dean choked out, shoving away blankets that hadn’t been there before.

A small, grimy trashcan appeared under his face and he heaved violently. By the end of it, tears wet his face and his whole body trembled. Dean slumped against the headboard, muscles weak and rubbery. Sam brought him a glass of water to rinse his mouth out and then set the trash can aside. He winced at Sam’s shaking hands running through his lanky hair.

Visibly gathering himself, Sam asked, “Is that what it was like? Last night?”

“Uh, yeah. More or less, I guess.” Clearing his throat, he pushed himself further up the headboard to sit. “Wh-what happened?”

Sam’s knee jut into his thigh when he turned into him. His little brother had always had the boniest, sharpest knees—it was a familiar comfort.

“Um…well,” he faltered. “For the first hour…was it an hour? I don’t know, maybe a little more…” he shook his head. Earnest, like Dean might not believe him, he said, “You just slept. N-nothing unusual.”

He reached out and squeezed Sam’s leg, hoping to calm him. Letting him know he wasn’t alone.

“I was in the bathroom when I heard you making noise, talking maybe? I thought you’d be okay until I finished. But, uh—by the time I got out here, you were—god, Dean—you were keening through your teeth—your back was bowed off the bed. I tried to shake you awake, but I couldn’t-I couldn’t…and y-you were burning up… I-I don’t know if it was fever or, or...”

Sam looked to Dean, one hand wiping across his mouth. He let it drop away and said, “I swear, your skin glowed from within and I smelled smoke. How’s that—how can that be? What were you dreaming about?”

Dean closed his eyes. There were ten million other questions he’d rather answer. How could he say those words? Describe to his little brother the pain of watching the skin melt from his bones even as he, himself, burned on the ceiling? Like his girlfriend—like their…

He sure as hell couldn’t tell his brother about the letting go part. Sam continued on, though. The kid couldn’t stop, words tumbling out before he could settle on a single thought.

“I couldn’t wake you up. You-you wouldn’t wake up,” Sam’s voice faltered and he wiped at his nose.  “You fell deeper into the dream and I couldn’t pull you out. You had stopped moving and were barely breathing and I—”

Dean let go of Sam’s knee to squeeze his forearm, stopping the manic speech.

“I’m awake now. You did good—I’m okay.”

“I had to pinch your trapezoid muscle hard, Dean. It was the only thing that worked.” Sam huffed a nervous chuckle. “You’ll probably have a bruise. Talk to me, man. Tell me what’s going on. Please?”

“Gimme a minute. I need....” He tried clearing the sand from his voice, but it stuck like cement. “Help me up.”

He pushed himself from the headboard to sit on the side of the bed next to Sam. Once settled, he asked, “We got anything to drink?” His throat burned like he’d actually inhaled fire and smoke. He could taste it on his tongue.

“Just tap water,” Sam said.

“Anything,” Dean told him, “Whatever we got.”

He returned with the glass of water and Dean drank it all down. Sam’s nose crinkled in disgust before he flopped boneless into the nearest chair.

“I’m worried about you,” he said after a drawn pause. “You’re really scaring me.”

Dean found himself answering honestly. “Me, too. But… it’s gonna be okay. We always find a way. You just gotta believe in that.”

Sam pursed his lips as if to say more, but ended up nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Dean felt warm wetness tickling his upper lip and touched his fingers to it. Blood. Sam’s distressed expression, when their eyes met, caused a current of anger at himself, at his weakness, to surge through him. Yanking a handful of cheap tissues from the box at his bedside, he tilted his head back and pinched his nose roughly. He was glad when it hurt.

“I’m okay,” he told Sam. Dipping his chin at the laptop, he asked, “Did you find anything?”

Sam studied him for a moment, his questions still hanging in the air between them. Dean shut his eyes and hoped for space—everything was too fresh, there was too much. Please, Sammy, please. I just can’t right now, please let it be. He counted on Sam understanding the unspoken message. Dean heard him sigh before tapping his touchpad.

“Looks like we’re dealing with a Sumerian utukku—commonly known as an ekimmu. Can be twice as tall as a human with a humanoid body. Violent death and leaving the body unburied seems to be their origin. They tend to be vengeful toward the living and they can’t find peace without a resting place—basically, a spirit driven insane by their own unrest and violent death.”

Sam looked meaningfully at Dean as he read the next part. “They are sometimes referred to as “evil wind gusts” because of the wind associated with their presence. They’re able to attach to people even if they have nothing to do with their death, can influence people—amp up their emotions, even cause criminal behavior. Besides feeding off flesh and blood, they feed off the energy of human emotions and can take someone’s spiritual life force to replenish themselves.”

“Peachy,” Dean lifted his head and looked over, eyebrows raised. “Sounds like our guy.”

“Yeah, pretty spot on. Maybe even explains why I got so mad this morning. I remember being so angry ever since I left the apartment last night—almost overwhelmed by it. Do you think the ekimmu has anything to do with what’s going on with you?”

“I don’t see how.” Dean shook his head as he tossed the tissues. “Nothing you described explains how I’m feeling.” Raising both brows, he said, “I’m thinking, though, its current host isn’t able to sustain it and that’s why it’s randomly striking out at whoever is convenient.” Dean waited for Sam to connect the dots himself.

Sam cocked his head. “What, you think…you think it’s attached to Jess?”

“It would explain some things. If that’s what her initial message to me was about, that she needed help?” Dean watched Sam closely, hoping each next word wouldn’t be the one that broke the camel’s back. “But now it’s killing randomly because it can’t feed on something with no life force… but they can’t separate fully either, so it can’t attach to anyone else and, when it weakens, it always gets pulled back to Jessica.”

Sam shook his head. “But is that possible? Can a spirit attach to a spirit?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not attachment. Maybe bound together because of the binding spell? Whatever the case, the ekimmu will keep lashing out at whoever gets in its way until its strong enough to break free and find some poor soul to ride.”

Sam sat for a long while thinking. Dean could see the flashes of emotion crossing his brother’s face and he hated how he’d had to put these thoughts about his girl in his head. He could imagine which direction Sam’s thoughts had taken.

“You think she’s suffering?” Sam finally asked. “You think it’s hurting her?”

Dean wished he had a pat answer. “I don’t know. I doubt it can hurt her like it can a living person. Whatever it’s capable of, it’s probably moved on from her when it realized she was a spirit too.”

Sam nodded, seemed accepting of that. His lips thinned and his face became stony hard. “We have to get this thing. Whether it’s hurting her or not, I want it dead.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dean held his gaze, lips pushing together. “I know you do.” He said with as much confidence as he could muster, “And we will.” Sam bobbed his head once and turned back to his laptop. “So,” Dean asked, “you find out how we kill this thing?”

“Uh, well,” Sam scrolled down the website. “Says here giving the body a proper burial usually does the trick. But, obviously that’s not an option since we have no way of knowing who it once was or where the body would be. Some of the stuff I read suggested there was a ritual or maybe some kind of exorcism that sometimes worked, but I’ll need to research it more to know for sure. And,” Sam said, “we may need to do the unbinding spell first.”

Dean heard the implication. If they didn’t unbind Jessica from this thing, she might get dragged down into the exorcism with the ekimmu or, her being part of the deal, the exorcism might not work at all.

“Yeah, I agree.” Dean rubbed his hands together. “So we’ll have to find a way to trap it at least until that’s done. Shouldn’t be too hard, almost everything has something that works. Okay, so I guess we need to figure out the binding spell next.”

“Yeah, I called Bobby while you were sleeping. He said he’ll call back when he finds something.”

Nodding his head, Dean wiggled his toes in the carpet. “You heard from Becky today?”

“Yeah…called her too. She said there was no change in Aaron.” Sam turned away from the open page on the computer screen. “You think whatever is happening to Aaron can be reversed? Because I’ve been thinking—there’s no physical reason he should be in a coma. It’s like he’s sleeping, like those kids in Wisconsin with the Shtriga. Maybe it was the ekimmu, not Jess.”

Dean thought about that. It hadn’t occurred to him before, but Sam had a good point. Leaning forward, Dean rested his aching head in his hands. “Well, you said it feeds on psychic energy, so basically it’s the same deal. Maybe it couldn’t kill him because Jessica wouldn’t let it?”

“Right, because she was there at the hospital, too. So, if—when—we kill this thing, he should wake up, right?”

“Maybe. Definitely a possibility.”

Sam nodded and stretched his long legs out in front of himself. “Think we should tell Becky and the others?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I mean, what if we’re wrong? What if…” he left the sentence hanging, unable to finish it. He didn’t want to think about Sam’s friend not waking up. He looked at Sam, knowing how much hurt losing Aaron would cause. How much these people meant to his brother. They’d been his family when Dean couldn’t be. And if Dean had to leave…

“I’ve been thinking, too,” Dean said. A lump rose in his throat. He wasn’t sure he could force the words out now that he was faced with saying them out loud. “Maybe, when we’re done here…maybe—if you wanted—you could stay.”

“What?” Sam’s faced wrinkled, the words not absorbing. “What are you talking about?”

Dean looked down, nodded. “Look, it’s okay. If you want to stay, go back to school…I’m saying you could do that.”

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. “Right. Where’s this coming from? How hard did you hit your head, man?”

When Dean leveled his serious expression Sam’s way and said nothing, Sam laughed a little hysterically. “No, Dean, I couldn’t do that and you know why.”

“Come on, Sam. Dad and I, we can keep looking for the demon—we can keep him off your back—”

“You don’t even know where Dad is and I’m in this now. Jess was my girlfriend—I need to be a part of this. You’re the one who keeps saying we’re stronger together!”

“I know, but just think about it,” Dean said, beseeching. “It’s not too late for you. You’ve got good friends here, a family. They miss you and I think you miss them.  Dad and I, we can keep you in the loop, but you can stay. Get on with your life.”

“What the hell, Dean?! Do you want me to stay? Is that what you want? Because I—I thought we were in this together.”

No, Dean thought. But it’s not about what I want. It’s about what you need. “It’s just…Dad and I can do this without you and, uh, I think it’d be better if you stayed as far away from this demon as possible. It wants you for a reason—but if you’re not available? One less thing to worry about.”

Dean wanted to vomit even as he said the words. Nothing could be further from what he wanted, but Chris’s words kept echoing in his ears. Even Jessica urged him to let go—maybe this is what she meant? Maybe she knew what the demon wanted? No matter the logic in it, though, wrongness dug deep in his gut. Watching the hurt confusion rippling across Sam’s face, maybe his brother felt the same. The aching pressure in his chest ballooned until the physical pain made him want to double over. He forced himself to breathe through it and keep strong.

Sam swallowed and dropped his gaze. “I thought…I can’t believe…” Pressing his lips out, he nodded. “If that’s what you think. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should stay.”

The words fell like dead weights in the air between them. For the strangest few seconds, Dean was blissfully numb—his brain couldn’t register what his ears had heard. Once it sank in, though, his breath hitched in his chest and it was all he could do to keep his face straight. Some small part of him had hoped Sam would refuse.

Going it alone, leaving his brother unprotected—not knowing if Sam was safe day to day—could he really do this? Could he go back to days, weeks, months of silence, no human interaction beyond working the case—constantly wondering if his family was safe, if they ever thought about him too? Just one big blur of one hunt melting into the next until he lost track of the whens and wheres. ‘Cause he knew, he absolutely did know Dad wouldn’t be joining him, he’d be on his own again. He could hear his dad’s commanding baritone, Too risky, Dean. I need you boys safe. Stick close to Sam. But Sam would never have to know, would he?

TBC…

[csgnewstuff]

Cabro's legacy - Various

Doom 2 - Single Player - ZDoom Compatible - 16.5 MB

Disclaimer: I know none of the mappers in this compilation, so there's no way I could be going into this with bias. So, remember that before you slam the reply button. Thanks! Cabro's Legacy is a compilation of 15 years of Spanish Doom maps, a "commemorative megawad". That's 2000 to 2015. Fifteen years of Doom maps! Whee! Not only will this be fun to play, but fun to analyze, as we go from Y2K to last year. Within those fifteen years lies a lot of weird mapping fads and trends, some good, some just terribly embarrassing... and we all know what I'm talking about. Yep, those maps. Mmhm. The ones you liked but can't believe you did in the present day. Don't worry, I was exactly the same. Cabro's mapping tournaments, if I'm going by the text file only, was a contest in La Página de Cabro. From what I see, the contest had these rules: Limit-removing maps with custom music and sky. That's it. Participants had to use only stock textures. All maps must be playable in their own right, which means all maps shall be pistol started in this compilation. Thanks to ZDoom, this mapset has a portal map! Lots of games like to do this portal/painting thing these days, eh? Anyway, the mighty ZDoom ensures that you start each level with only the pistol, and when you complete a level, you're sent back to the portal map. Fair enough. The navigation of the portal map is a little disorienting - it took me way longer than it should to find the second portal room! I'm going to warn you now: This journey is going to be long, tedious, and near the end, you'll be begging for mercy. Sorry, you started reading this review, not me! You think I'd read a review this long? Fat chance! So anyway, here are the trends I could make out. Let's see if they match the Doom community as a whole! I (2000). The first contest. Only one map is playable, and it suffers from Wolfenstein Syndrome. There are some details here and there, but this is otherwise a very clean map. The other maps weren't included. II (2001). Still hallways, but rounded corners in places. Mappers are starting to branch out a bit, use some open areas, but still, hallways. Was this the year that everyone decided to copy The Darkening? Details all in the walls that serve no purpose, and crates, because CRATES. III (2002). Not as boxy, but the sense of scale has increased dramatically. Feeling small? Some rooms are ridiculously huge, beyond Run Buddy proportions, into Equinox territory. Still, nothing that'll knock your frame rate down a peg. This is 2002 after all. IV (2003): I think 2003 started like this: "Hey, y'all know this newfangled thing called 'detail'? I think we should take a look into it. Naw, you just spam the hell out of 1S lines because a clean room just ain't cool enough." I blame Caverns of Darkness, personally. Also, why did detail start to mean "smaller" ? Thankfully one map decided to pull this stunt; the others still did last year's "huge" trope, which is refreshing for a change. I'm starting to see midtex abuse, though - I know what's coming and I don't like it. Gameplay is about to take a back seat, isn't it? V (2005): OOOH MAIII GAAWWD DDDDEEEETTTTAAAAIIILLL! HNGGGH! *various ape noises* Yes, this is the year everyone went full potato with linedefs. Do I blame PA:R? All I know is that this is when my computer started to sweat, and my framerate started to dip. And nowhere to move, because not only are we detailing everything, we're playing with the proportions of a model train set. Spam those midtextures, ya bastards! Do a line of cocaine off a UAC crate! These maps aren't flowing well, and are artificially difficult with copypasta syndrome creeping in. There is no way to dodge attacks in cramped quarters, especially hitscanners! VI (2006): I will not rest until every map unit has something different in it. I will fractal the fuck out of this map, because detail, in the holy name of detail. Inject the midtextures, borders, and flat detailing directly into my bloodstream please. Pseudo-slopes! Tanking framerates! Gradient lighting! I got stuck in DETAIL SECTORS. What the Chri-OH GOD THE MONSTER COUNT WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THESE HORDES? Forty imps in a room that otherwise serves no purpose other than to connect two hallways that are also filled with imps...because why the hell not? Who needs gameplay? My map looks c00l d00d! Surely there's a good map somewhere? These have not aged well at all. And I know why, because the entire Doom community was infected with this. Gameplay is locked in the trunk, and we're cruising down Detail Boulevard. No brakes! VII(2007): ? *Throws down controller* Ya know what? I'm not even going to play these. I've had enough of the unfair difficulty. It's total bullshit that there are no skill levels, either. I can't see much of anything in one of the maps anyway, so hooray, mapper, I'm not playing that garbage! Another map is just very basic techbase, but still copypasta heavy. And then there's this slaughtermap - nope! What the hell is going on here? We started off with some decent maps, but as I step through the years, it's like, what drugs were we on? I cannot be the only one that sees how lazy these maps are. Yeah, visually impressive, I guess, but I'm not enjoying any of these - this is the No Fun Zone. And the slaughtermap is just so flat, so bland, so boring. VIII (2008): First map, and of course, a horde of revenants just punched my face in. I can see this being fun with an overpowered weapons mod, but as it stands it's just a boring KABLOOM-click-clock-clack SSG spamfest after the arch-vile scare. Yes, it's beatable, but I could only beat this one after savescumming the ever-loving crap out of it. Avoid, avoid. Okay, next ma--nooooooo we're back in detail land! PLEASE STOP! Oh, and even better, you can exit this map in two seconds, because the exit switch is right at the start of the map! This map looks really, really bad. The lighting in the complex is way too bright. I can't see anything in one room due to midtexture grate spam, everything is grey. That is an accomplishment, being so terrible. Oh, and hitscanners everywhere, because that's always good, innit? The last map is everything wrong with the uber-detail fad. This is total shit. Some sort of "city" map: the outside is so dark, nothing is really visible, and the buildings are so packed with little details that it looks downright comical. I'm not bashing these maps because I have any personal beefs with anyone, I'm being totally honest here - this map, and every one of these detail fad maps for that matter, are absolutely terrible. They look gaudy, the gameplay is either boring easy or frustratingly hard, and oh, of course I had to get stuck somewhere, it never fails with these maps! I got stuck in the hell section, on some "detail" rocks, and had to noclip out. IX (2010): ? BOO!!!!111 Yaaaay, we're now using the jumpscare technique! Nothing like going through a cave only to trigger something that causes two hell knights to pop up out of the floor instantly! Well, until you've overused it. And my poor framerate in the cave map! It looks pretty, though, and it's tough! It's not copypasta hordes either! I really like the cave/forest map. But that jumpscare abuse got old. I bound MDK to a key because I just can't be arsed fighting insta-monsters one after the other like that. Especially in this map where there isn't a lot of ammo. As for the rest, looks like we're hitting that era of "Try something simple for a change". Still, this was also the era of slaughtermaps - and expect an ass kicking. Some copypasta here and there, but at least it's something besides the super-cramped nonsense. This is not bad! Of course I could be totally wrong, and these suck, but in comparison to the previous few sets, this is really different, and I'll take that. Now let's pick these apart - some don't have difficulty settings. In fact, I've been meaning to bring that up - some of these maps so far have no difficulty settings whatsoever - ITYTD can be almost as hard as UV - and the only saving grace is that ammo is doubled and damage to the player is reduced. I guess in a community that only plays UV these days anyway, the other skill levels aren't even used. Boo! I use different levels all the time! It depends on how much I'm willing to use my brain at the time. X (2011): What. The. Fuck. We have entered the "what is this I don't even" zone. First map is a circle.. thing? It's kinda hard. Weird, but it wasn't the boxy junk from a few entries back. Second map is some kind of story-based map. The detail in this map is over the top, but at least all the detail looks like it's something in real life - computers, beds, tables, TVs, that kind of thing. Lost souls coming out of nowhere scared the piss out of me. And then there's this absurd hell map that is actually pretty cool. Got my ass thoroughly kicked, but someone is trying something different and that's more than I can say for previous entries. I can't hate these. Play 'em. There's one of these maps that feels like it belongs in the next category, so I'm going to hold my tongue on that one until a few lines down... XI (2012): MY MAP'S BIGGER THAN YOURS! Switch hunts. Everywhere. Ugh. NO. It's taking dozens of seconds sometimes to load these maps. What on this earth is taking that long to load? These are rapidly becoming unfun by how much time it takes to complete them. I'm not here to read 1,000 page novels, this is friggin' Doom! Why make an entire episode in one map? Is something fun not good enough anymore? Honestly at this point I'm not even really playing these. I don't have a month to play this, I don't have a week to play this. This is absurd. Make your own decisions on this one, but as for me, they've turned Doom into a chore, and when you do that, you FAIL. This doesn't bode well for the rest, does it? XII (2013): MORE *excessive swearing cut* NOVELS! Yes, your map is pretty. Yes, it took three minutes to load. Do I know if it plays well? Hell if I know, because my framerate dipped to 486 levels just trying to play the goddamned thing. This mapping contest has become the equivalent of Roman gods quarreling, each one of them trying to outdo the other in some ridiculous, hilarious fashion. It's becoming comical now. Whatever happened to making a map? It doesn't have to be a LITERAL MAP! There was one entry that didn't tank the FPS, and that was really mazey, so I'm not sure if I liked that one either. My head is beginning to hurt. NEXT! XIII (2014): Okie dokie, we're going absurdist now? Not sure what happened here! Still, maps far too damn long to enjoy casually, or even seriously, what the heck! At least level designs are cleaner, here. We're still switch hunting and maze-navigating though! Is anyone still playtesting these? Is anyone still reading this? Banana? Banana! I'm really sleep deprived, now. Starting to see things, and I'm not sure if it's me or the maps. And of course one of them is the size of Alaska, because that's the only language some of these contestants speak now. Are we almost done yet? XIV (2015)...Heh. So this is it? A city map that's somewhat playable, and a techbase map that doesn't suck? Cool, cool, what's the last map? A Sl.. sl..slaughtermap... *faints* So, to recap: we went from simple, fun maps, to detail-fests, to supergiant maps that take minutes to load and days to beat. What did we learn from all this? That the community has a lot of talent, and some of that talent might be going a little too far and trying a little too hard (read: way too hard) to prove itself. I have no idea why the contest entries went from short, fun romps to Greek epics, but I can't imagine being the judge, having to sit through dozens of entries, each trying to be megabiglargehuge, because the entrants are desperately trying to impress the judges. it's just not impressive if every single map entry tries to do this garbage. The larger the map, the less likely the gameplay is going to be tuned to anything sensible, unless there are teams of mappers looking at this stuff, and I doubt that was the case. There's no way to test this all the way through, multiple times, by yourself. My hands hurt, my eyes hurt, my ears are shot from blasting Ween all day and night playing this map over the Labor Day weekend. I don't even know if I played all these fairly; I may have cheated a bit to speed things up, but at this point it would take a team of reviewers to tackle this one and give each map a thorough assessment. I have given each an honest try (with the resurrect command bound to a key) and the majority of these maps are just too friggin' big. In conclusion, Cabro's Legacy is a set of forty-two maps trying to justify their existence, with many of them slipping and falling flat on their faces. Where did this go wrong? A better question is, "When did it ever go right?" Answer: Rarely. Maps taking minutes to load didn't help, either. Play if you dare.

http://www.doomworld.com/idgames/?id=18402