#one bath chamber? 5 million hallways and one bath chamber?

[apricotzel]

castle ravenloft is so funny to me. that shit makes 0 sense. none. and he likes it like that. he did that on purpose.

[thesandsofelsweyr]

HOLLOWED OUT

《 READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

When Jason saw that photo of Batman and his new Robin, the thin cord of hope holding him together had snapped and he had broken into a million pieces. No one was coming for him. Not one single person on the planet cared whether he lived or died, or how much he suffered, or how loud he screamed. No one except the Clown. He was Joker’s now, and he would say or do anything to get a reprieve from the torment and the pain, even if it meant letting himself be reduced to something less than human.

《RATING》 🔞 Mature 《WORDS》 15,609 《CHAPTERS》 6/6

《CHARACTERS》 Jason Todd/Robin, Joker, Original Male Character(s), Bruce Wayne (mentioned), Dick Grayson (mentioned), Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned), Catherine Todd (mentioned), Willis Todd (mentioned)

《TROPES》 Hurt No Comfort, Angst, Whump, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

《WARNINGS》 Dehumanization, Bathing/Washing, Master/Pet, Collars, Ownership, Brainwashing, Humiliation, Non-Consensual Touching, Torture, Mindfuck, Scars, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Loathing, Past Child Abuse, Daddy Issues, Forced Nudity, Swearing

《SERIES》 Part 4 of My Arkhamverse, Part 4 of Ruined

《NOTES》

This fic is my pride & joy! It was the first thing I published after a 5+ year hiatus, and the longest story I've ever written by far!

This fic is also dark so be aware of the tags (especially the DD:DNE tag)

My Arkhamverse canon is a mix of game canon and Arkham Knight: Genesis canon. I pick and choose what I like best 😉

If you enjoy the read please consider kudosing, commenting, and reblogging ❤️

《 READ ON AO3 》 (excerpt below the cut)

Jason let his heavy head sag between his shoulders as he was dragged down the long hallway. He clenched his teeth to keep from crying out. The strain on his upper body reignited dull pain in his shoulders, pain that still lingered from the last time he was strung up like a slab of raw meat. The usual two orderlies, who Joker called “Left” and “Right” to amuse himself and confuse the hell out of everyone else, each grasped a bone-thin arm, showing no more concern for him than they would have for a sack of dirt. He didn’t have the strength to fight the men even if he wanted to, which he did not. Fighting was a punishable offense—he’d learned that long ago—and he would do anything to avoid a punishment. Yeah, the Clown still abused him whenever he felt like it, but punishment was a different experience entirely, the kind that lasted for hours and left him wishing for death. Just the thought of the word alone made him want to curl up and die.

We passed the torture chamber already, he reassured himself, trying not to let the fear take over and start pleading for mercy like the coward he was. They’re taking me somewhere else, someplace new. 

For Jason it was a torture chamber, but really it was another abandoned office in this buried wing of Arkham Asylum where Joker kept all the toys he used to make him squeal. He was almost always punished in that room: tied to a chair, dangling from a meat hook, or, especially when guests paid him a visit, left free to crawl into a corner and contemplate how helpless he was even without any restraints. 

He only punishes me when I’m bad…

He wracked his weary mind for anything he might have done to piss the Clown off lately. Not that the Clown needed to be pissed off to make him regret ever putting on that red suit. Whacking him with a crowbar was probably part of the psycho’s self-care routine. But a punishable offense? He couldn’t think of anything. Joker was usually fair when it came to punishing him. He only hurts me like that when I deserve it, and he had been on his very best behavior. At least he hoped he had. He was so exhausted it was hard to keep track of what he had or hadn’t done.

It seemed as if a lot of time had passed since his last punishment, but he had no real concept of time in this pit. Well, not since the first six months of his imprisonment, back when he thought someone might actually give a damn that he was missing. He’d tried to keep track of the days then, but after Joker showed him that photo he decided there was no point anymore.

In those early days—back when he was nothing but bad—he would fight back. He broke the wrist of one of the guest torturers, bit a guard’s ear off, even knocked a tooth out of the Clown’s stupid grin. He also tried to escape at least once a month. The guards or orderlies or the Clown himself (armed with that goddamned crowbar) would drag him back and beat him within an inch of his life. But as soon as he could stand up again he was running—or limping more likely—toward that salvation that was a concrete staircase leading up to a makeshift trap door leading out to freedom. Even then Joker made sure his ankle stayed broken, but he had way more tolerance for pain when he thought Batman was coming to beat the shit out of the Clown and his goons and take him home. Hope will do that to you.

He was a good boy now though, as docile as a whipped dog—relentless suffering for nearly a year of his life made certain of that. Joker taught him that it was easier to just submit, to obey; that life was better as a broken boy than it was as a bad boy. He no longer wished to escape. Where would he go? He had no home, no one waiting for him. At least here in this dungeon someone actually cared about him, in his sick, twisted, fucked-up sort of way. And then there was the warning of what would happen to him if he ever tried to run again. Oh God… Fear coiled like a snake around his chest, squeezing tighter and tighter as he struggled to push the memory of that terrible threat away, to push back the panic that crept in. I learned my lesson, he reminded himself as he fought for a breath. That will only happen to me if I disobey…

His mind was mercifully wrenched back to the present when the orderlies suddenly turned, pulling his limp body into an unfamiliar room and dropping him to the cold tile floor. His heart started to slow as the pain in his shoulders receded and he took in his new surroundings. The small, musty room looked like it might have been a break room or a kitchen. There was a sink, a fridge, a microwave, an empty water cooler, some cabinets—all blanketed in a thin layer of dust. In the center of the room sat a square table with four metal chairs, and beside it stood the Clown. His heart sank. Joker was grinning at him as ever, his feverish green eyes glittering with excitement for whatever sadistic cruelties he was about to dish out. The sight of the man made him want to puke.

But he couldn’t puke right now, not when Joker expected him in position. With a soft groan he slowly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, ignoring the protests from cracked bones and torn muscles. His bruised knees ached from crawling on the hard floor for the past weeks (months? years??). Since he’d been stripped of his armor Joker only allowed him to crawl; never walk, never stand. He kept his head bowed low while he waited for a command to obey. 

The uneasy silence was soon filled by the sound of a metal chair scraping against the tile as it was pulled from beneath the table. He shivered as all-too-familiar dread and despair settled over him. It was about to start again.

“Come. Sit,” Joker said in a lilting voice that suggested this was a friendly request, but Jason knew better.

Without hesitation he crawled over to where Joker was standing with his hands resting on the chair back. He gripped the chair and used it as leverage to pull his trembling, broken body off the floor. Gingerly, he slid into the chair, and winced as his ass and thighs—still bruised from the wooden paddle—came in contact with the hard plastic seat. My body still hasn’t recovered from my last punishment, he thought miserably. It was hard for him to believe that this same body was running around Gotham, brawling with its colorful lineup of thugs only months ago. Now he could barely stand on his own, much less run. Even the slightest of movements awakened some awful pain from a previous beating. He was only 16 yet he felt like he was 60.

16… He was only weeks away from getting his license when he fell into this shithole. Two more years and he would’ve had his high school diploma, maybe even sooner. I wanted to go to college. I was gonna try for an Ivy. A ‘fuck you’ to Willis for giving him hell for opening a book more than once in his life. I’ll never read another book. That realization was a particularly brutal gut-punch. Books were always his escape, from his shitty home life when his sperm donor was still breathing, or when he was feeling like he, a corner boy from Crime Alley, had no business living in a billionaire’s mansion. He remembered when he first arrived at that billionaire’s mansion how excited he was when he saw the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves Alfred built for him in his new bedroom, and the hundreds of books that Bruce had already filled them with. He also remembered the pack of Marlboros he had stashed behind his (Bruce’s) first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice. This hell would be more bearable with a paperback and a cigarette. He would never experience either of those things again though. He would never see his bedroom again… or Alfred… or Bruce. He bit back tears. Willis was probably laughing his ass off in hell right now. He always said I was a loser, that I’d never amount to anything. Looks like the fuckhead was right in the end.

Read the rest on AO3→

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Cursed G Pt 30 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh, Siduri)

Previous Part: 1 - HakuPOV / GilPOV, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29

___

She wasn’t sure why she bothered with this man.

That was all she could think in the morning. Enkidu and Gilgamesh were cuddled against one another, since Enkidu had climbed over her body during the night and was draped over the man’s person. She had to laugh internally at the two of them, lying there on the bed like a couple of idiots.

Her feet touched upon the warm floors, her hands going to a set of robes near the bed that had been left out for her. The doors were a bit hard to open, considering the weight of them, but she slipped through and headed towards where the meal the previous night had been.

“Good morning, my lady,” Siduri greeted, as though she hadn’t played a nasty prank on her by making her half panic about work the night before.

“Morning,” Hakuno yawned. “Can I help with work this morning?”

“If the king permits.”

If the king permits… She wasn’t too fond of that phrase. It wasn’t like she was a complete idiot. She had her share of foolish moments, but she cared.

The attendant wasn’t too worried about what she thought though. She was busy leading her to a seat in the back and highest point of the room, having various servants bring her breakfast and asking about frivolous things.

“Would you like someone to assist you with your baths?”

“I can scrub myself.”

“Jewelry for this morning?”

“Why would I need that?”

“I can have the servants bring you some proper clothes.”

Hakuno frowned a little, biting into some melon as she said that. Her own robes right now were okay, weren’t they?

“Forgive me. You must still be disoriented from your time. Perhaps some music this afternoon? I can have the minstrels come and perform for you. Perhaps a troop can come and entertain you-“

“I could help with tablet work. I think that would be more rewarding.”

Siduri blinked, shaking her head.

“Do you like minstrels?”

“My opinion doesn’t matter right now.”

Why was that?

Hakuno set her untensils down, wiping her mouth with a cloth beside her plate before she faced the woman properly.

“I think your opinion matters a lot, Siduri. I didn’t need any of those things when I was in my time. I worked. I handled documents and finances for myself. I have a good head on my shoulders. If there is any way I can help in the palace, then I want to do so.”

“…You are the woman that the king has chosen,” Siduri pointed out.

“And I want to help.”

Siduri stared at her before shaking her head.

She motioned for more food to be brought to her plate.

“Please continue eating while I have the servants prepare the bathing chambers and a set of robes for you. Your comfort and happiness are the priority for our workers and the work is… complicated. Why force yourself to do something unpleasant when there are others that can take it?”

That wasn’t right.

That sounded like the self-serving rhetoric seen by poor leaders and corrupted royalty that were taken advantage of. Hakuno went to speak again when she found the attendant standing up and bowing to someone nearby.

“My king!”

Gilgamesh stood, adorned in all the gold jewelry and plush colors of a king. His eyes drifted to her, a smirk coming to that expression.

“I see we are already spoiling my queen.”

“Of course,” Siduri replied to him. “I was just discussing how to address helping her dress for the day-“

“And I’m sure she waved you off and requested to work.”

Siduri paused, earning a laugh. Hakuno found him closing the distance between them and kissing her before Siduri.

“Hakuno is stubborn,” he told her. “She thinks much more like yourself and the advisors. If there is work she can do without the most profound knowledge of the inner workings of the palace, then I would suggest allowing her to work. She’ll simply steal tablets otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t steal them.”

Those eyes were just flashed, that smirk growing as Siduri spluttered nearby.

“My king!” She tried. “Shouldn’t we-“

“Whatever Hakuno wants.”

Smart man. Hakuno kissed him the moment he sat down beside her, giving him a good reward for that kind of promotion to the attendant.

“Oh, and Siduri?”

The woman nearby paused, glancing his way.

“I do believe Hakuno should be meeting Ninsun, don’t you agree?”

Ninsun?

Why did she know that name?

The attendant was paling, glancing between the two of them. Her hands seemed to clutch at the tablet she held in her arms.

“Y-you mean to have them interact? Ninsun is… so intimately close to you, my king. If she does not like Hakuno…”

Hold on.

Hakuno perked up a bit more, frowning as the king waved off Siduri’s warning. She didn’t remember Gilgamesh having someone but she did know about the mentions of women in Gil’s stories. Did he already have a-

Something akin to a rock sank to the depths of her stomach as Gilgamesh laughed and waved off Siduri’s fears, informing her to have her dressed up and adorned before meeting Ninsun.

Who was Ninsun though?

Hakuno found herself pulled away before she could bother to ask. Gilgamesh gave her a wave, greeting Enkidu as the being came into the dining hall. The two of them began bickering as Siduri held her hand and led her through the palace hallways. She still seemed almost panicked at getting her to her chambers that she shared with Gilgamesh and summoning servants.

There was no end to helping her prepare.

The sheer effort was enough to tell her that, whoever Ninsun was, she was someone that struck fear into these people’s hearts. The servants were sweating, their eyes focused on their work as she stood there and let it all happen. She could feel her hair being tugged a little here and there. She could see women running out to the gardens and back in, weaving some of the blooms into her hair as they braided it into place. The seamstresses seemed almost to be sewing the clothing together with her standing there.

Another brought in a stick of something back.

“It prevents evil eye,” the woman told her. “Close your eyes if you wish. I have handled stubborn children.”

She wasn’t a child, but the moment the thing was coming towards her eyes, she had her eyes closed.

It was fine.

The woman she saw in the looking glass that she would spot here and there in the hallways they traversed through seemed entirely foreign. It took a bit of time to realize that she was staring at herself. When she did, she almost stopped.

“My lady,” Siduri told her, ushering her along.

They left the palace.

There were what seemed to be thousands of stairs to walk down. No railing either. It would have been one of those safety measure things that the government would have lost their minds about. The robes and the strange sandals that had been tied to her feet didn’t help with the process of going down them either. Slippery bottomed shoes were vastly different from the rubber soled shoes of the future. Her hands remained around Siduri’s arm, letting her help her navigate down the million and one stairs to the ground.

People stared in their direction. The guards at their sides kept close, escorting her to the large and ornate building.

Was it a brothel? A temple to the intimate?

She looked up, staring at the name overhead and feeling a strange and awkward need to run.

Siduri exchanged a look with her before motioning the guards to stand on either side of the entrance.

“You do not have to do this if you don’t want to,” she explained.

Great.

“The king may want the two of you to meet, but if you aren’t comfortable…”

Hakuno glanced to the door again.

Denying this opportunity to take whomever this Ninsun was by surprise by initiating a meeting could turn into a mess. She’d already found trouble with meeting Ishtar. She’d ignored opportunities by letting Gilgamesh take the lead and worming her way around troublemakers in her life.

Ninsun was just another person.

A wife of Gilgamesh was going to be troublesome, especially since she loved the man.

There was eternity to live here in Uruk. No television. No enormous collections of rights for her to fall back on if things went south. This was her chance to prove that she was a force to be reckoned with.

“I’ll be fine,” she told the woman.

“She will not be the easiest to speak with,” Siduri told her.

“I’ve handled worse.”

Ishtar. Rin. Rani when Rin had pissed her off. Emiya after Cu decided to have a sparring match with him. Shakespeare in the throes of a new play he was writing. There were countless examples of people that were difficult in her life.

Hell, Gilgamesh was stubborn.

Siduri looked at her a moment before she sighed.

“Do you love the king?”

“Yes, I do.”

Siduri nodded, smiling a little as she looked up at her. “Then I agree with your decision. Meet Ninsun. Prove yourself to her.”

“I want to help with paperwork later too.”

Siduri bowed a little. “As you wish.”

“…Siduri?”

The woman paused.

“…I don’t have friends here..” Hakuno glanced over to the guards ignoring them. “I left everyone and everything behind to be here and Gilgamesh is Gilgamesh.”

She waited, almost seeming as though she wasn’t daring to move lest she offend her.

“I was hoping… No, I am hoping that maybe you and I could be friends. You did that test on Gilgamesh and I yesterday. You seem more concerned about Gilgamesh not making any mistakes or choosing someone for the wrong reasons.”

“My king deserves someone who is wise like him. Not conniving or selfish.”

Hakuno smiled. “I agree.”

The woman waited.

“I would be a commoner and love Gilgamesh afar if it were possible, but he and Enkidu drag me around and I can’t help but to like the two of them. I must be out of my mind, but I love Gilgamesh.”

Siduri closed her eyes again, another sigh escaping her.

“Siduri-“

“Okay.”

The woman glanced to her again, her small smile coming forth as she motioned for the guards to open the doors to the place where Ninsun resided.

“I would be honored to be your friend, Hakuno… But I am just an attendant. I do not have the right to call you a friend unless you permit it yourself.”

Hakuno leaned in close, kissing the woman’s cheek.

She walked into the building, leaving the attendant to stand there and hold onto her face.

Enkidu did that with her. She figured it was probably a custom.

Behind her, the doors were closing, blocking her view of freedom and her one and only friend in this place. Her world was once more foreign and strange. She could see great statues of a woman in various positions, leading her into the heart of the temple. She could see a great seat, surrounded by small trinkets and what she could only assume were offerings.

She moved to the offerings, deciding to kneels and pray quietly.

Gil’s health seemed like a smart decision for prayer.

“Gilgamesh tends not to get sick.”

Hakuno paused, her hands still clasped together and her body still kneeling at the altar. The woman nearby stood in a deep blue fabric, her golden hair falling over her shoulders and her keen red eyes surveying her carefully.

“My son,” she clarified. “He does not get sick often. Praying for his health is like praying for the air to continue to exist. So long as you care for your world, the air is not going anywhere.”

“You’re Gil’s mother?”

“Isn’t he just lovely?”

The woman, who could only be Ninsun, moved forward, settling herself upon the empty throne in the room and motioning for her to remain kneeling before her. Her hand went then to her hair, twirling a bit of the blonde locks around her fingers.  

“His father was a soldier turned king. He was smart, overly smart, as the gods had found. He had tamed the infamous Anzu bird and could destroy the land of the gods in one fell swoop. Humanity was beginning to question whether the gods had power at all. They doubted us. What we required was a lynchpin to keep humanity and the gods together. Entangled with one another into the future. The boy’s father decided that I seemed suitable.”

She preened like Gil did, almost seeming to revel in the memory. The smirk was identical. The eyes watching her were no different than Gil’s when he was eyeing her with intent. Although, Ninsun didn’t seem to be really looking at her. Her mind seemed elsewhere.

“I remember his father well. Plain, mediocre in strength compared to the gods; he had this deep weakness, you know. He could never resist my body or my sweets. I fed him like a pig for slaughter and he never gained an inch around that waist of his. I think he burned the food away through listening to others alone.”

“I see…”

Gilgamesh had just wanted her to meet his mother then.

The woman was quite beautiful, but this would have been less awkward if Gilgamesh himself had joined. She would have liked an introduction, maybe the chance to have Gil break the ice.

“My son seems to think highly of you, dressing you as one would a queen.”

“I love your son.”

That was still a bit awkward to say. She didn’t mind it; Gilgamesh was worth it, considering how careful and soft he could be. It was just-

“My son is gentle?”

Hakuno looked up at the woman, seeing her pause.

Those red eyes looked deep into hers a moment before the shaking began. The slight tremor in her body turned into a small giggle. The giggle turned into a full blown laugh, her head falling back.

“Oh! But my Gilgamesh! My fool! He has become no different then! To think that I wondered!”

“What do you mean-“

“Tell me, does he truly act like a cat?”

Did he still act like a cat?!

Had he been like that before-

“OH!”

Ninsun roared with laughter, holding her waist now. Her eyes were watering, her fingers going to her eyes to wipe the droplets away.

“Oh! My dear daughter! My sweet dear! My son, a cuddly, loving husband! My son fearing for a life such as dull and simple as yourself! I simply adore it. I cannot imagine the amount of hatred you receive from Ishtar. You bear resemblance to her dear sister in law. She must hate you passionately!”

Hakuno waited, watching the woman continue to laugh away.

Minutes passed. Eternity as well.

“Oh, but my baby. My boy,” she cooed between the laughs. “I can’t imagine what having him as a cat must have been like. Your memories! Oh!”

More minutes.

Hakuno ignored the odd feeling in her stomach, the feeling of slight nausea coming and going before the woman finally paused.

She closed her eyes.

The light mood dropped, her hands gripping her seat.

“…Foolish.”

“Hmm?”

Ninsun opened her eyes, giving a small sigh. “Return to your king, my dear. Take this.”

She stepped forth, dropping one of the necklaces around her neck to the floor before her.

“Do not take it off, for any reason. Not for bed. Not for baths. Not even when you love your king in your bed together. You do not take this off and you do not stray far from the palace, do you understand?”

“Yes, mom.”

Those red eyes widened.

“I mean-“

“You must always call me that.”

Hakuno blinked.

“No other name will suffice. Never declare me by any other name. You are my daughter and I am your mother. You are the wife of my son and the mother of my grandchildren. If you call me by any other name, I will be offended.”

“Okay, mom.”

Hakuno hesitated, watching the woman stand close.

She bit her lip.

“What is it?”

“You can read my thoughts, can’t you?”

The woman smiled, closing her eyes. “I do not know what you mean. If you want something, you must be abundantly clear. State your desires directly and openly.”

“If you are my mom… Then may I have a hug?” Hakuno looked up at the beautiful woman, her hands still on her lap. “I’ve never really had family before.”

She was swept into the woman’s arms almost immediately, the woman’s lips pressing to her cheeks, her nose, anywhere that the woman deemed necessary. The hug was so warm, so loving; Hakuno found herself closing her eyes.

“I love you too, mom.”

The woman tightened her grip, turning a little this way and that.

The necklace on the floor was placed on her neck before the goddess repeated her warning about not taking it off.

“Take pleasure in what’s around you,” she murmured last.

Hakuno simply hugged the woman again, listening to her greedily tell a passing priest or two that she was holding her daughter in her arms.

“My son has given me a daughter to love.”

What a coincidence that was. Gilgamesh had given her a mother to adore.

[dynoguard]

NaNoWriMo: Return of the DinoKnights (Day 8)

Day 1 & 2 text is here.

Day 3 is here.

Day 4 is here.

Day 5 is here.

Day 6 is here.

Day 7 is here.

I’ve fallen a teensy bit behind, but I’ve still written for eight of the ten days this month has thrown at me, so I’m doing good.

Sheriff Horne pulled her torchlight from her pocket and with a twist of the base turned it on. A cool blue-white light illuminated the building one small circle at a time. 

Working through the first three floors was difficult. The human structure and Science Tower One twisted into each other randomly there. Halls lead into solid walls, floors gave way to unexpected pits and errant brushes with clumps of chronal crystal delivered sharp electrical stings. 

The offices, storage rooms and hallways from the human building were both strangely alien and disturbingly familiar. Writing implements, texts, primitive machines she could only assume were the human counterpart to interociters, all of it was too small and shaped just slightly wrong, yet she recognized, or could at least guess, the function of most of the objects in her path.

After doubling back twice, crawling through a human maintenance hallway and nearly falling through the now-open roof of one of the Science Tower’s dormitory rooms, she found the emergency stairwell that ran the whole height of the tower. 

She took the central section of stairs, which were sized for middle-sized Dinosovians like herself. The stairs on the left of her were double the size, a comfortable fit for Podites like Brach. Those on the right were half-sized, and had she brought Linn with her, or one of the humans, they’d have been walking there.

After two floors she noticed the silence. She picked up Linn from her winter apprenticeship most days, and the tower was always buzzing with scientists. Even on late nights the wind and the sounds of the city gave the tower a familiar vibration that was now gone. It was a mine shaft now, bored into a solid mountain by science that might as well be magic.

She thought of her husband, Nychus. How handsome he looked with his blue and yellow plumage and big green eyes. He was in one of Zara’s time bottles. That possibility could keep her moving forward.

As long as she didn’t stop to think about the other possibilities.

She started singing. It was an old song, popular when she was a squire. 

“Come sweettail don’t be rude, something-something to brood, you’re like fire on a dactyl’s wing, I’m brave and unfraid-” She was almost whispering but it felt like she was shouting the words. Something kept fluttering in the corner of her vision but each sweep of the torchlight found only stairwell. 

Four floors from the bottom, she became aware of a scratching sound below her. It was faint, but clear, coming in slow, rhythmic swipes. Her pace slowed as she strained to listen to it. Once she was satisfied her imagination hadn’t conjured the noise she steadied her pace. The noise got louder as she descended, but it also seemed to move around her 

Then the silence returned.

Horne froze. She slowly moved the light through the stairwell. She wondered if she had imagined the scratching. Given time to think after the events of the last day, at least the last day of her experience, a few phantom sounds and paranoid thoughts were understandable. 

On the other claw, the building could be open to the outside in any number of places and she had no idea what kind of monsters had evolved since her yesterday. She did not like walking around armed, it separated her from the populace and made trust difficult in her experience. At this moment she felt naked without her sword. 

So when she heard the scratching again, this time about a half-meter from her head on the left side, she screamed, swung her torchlight to the sound and swung her long, flexible tail and the knot of short spikes at its end toward the noise. She did all three at once, lost her balance and landed on the floor.

Her tail stung from where it had impacted the wall. When she looked up, she saw the source of the sound. A pair chittervoles, four-legged mammal pests with protruding incisors and short, brown-and-black striped coats that ran from their snouts to the tips of their prehensile tails stood in the torchlight’s beam. The larger of the two hissed at her before they skittered into the darkness.

“Cora, you’re letting today get to you.” She couldn’t help but laugh as she stood up.  “Come back! I’ll introduce you to your great-times-a-million grand-niece and nephew!”

She picked up the light. 

“Hey humans, sorry to drop in on you like this, we brought you an invasive species.” She muttered to herself as she pushed forward. She was glad no one had been around to see her moment of panic. The tension now broken, she continued down the last few flights of stairs.

The magnetic locks on the door to the vehicle bay were designed not to work in case of power outage to aid in evacuation. The chamber was immense by human standards, its parking slots empty save for three vehicles parked near the entrance; a purple tri-bike, an orange haul-truck and a nicely sculpted silver roadster she recognized as belonging to Professor Rachus.  

She caught another flutter of movement out of the corner of her eye. 

“Stupid chittervoles” She muttered to herself. She rounded a corner and caught sight of her own steed, a blue and white all-terrain patrol vehicle. It leaned awkwardly to one side. 

“Nole?!” She shouted, running to the vehicle. “Nole! It’s Sheriff Horne are you here!” 

When she got closer she realized what had happened. Like the upper floors, the area around the edge of the parking bay was a mix of elements from both times, The parking bay’s open exit was mostly blocked by the outer face of the mountain, leaving the bay open to the outside air but closed off enough to prevent any of the vehicles except the tri-bike from driving out. Her steed was missing a third of its front-left side. 

The hood was sliced cleanly open, laying bare a cross-section of engine that reminded her of an engineering diagram. The passenger’s seat was also chopped in half. She reached down, pulling up the buckle of the safety harness, also bisected by nothingness. 

“Nole.” She whispered. She’d left her deputy in the now-sundered passenger seat, but there was no trace of him. She closed her eyes, forcing the fear of losing her protoge’ down. She spoke aloud. “Think it through, Cora, the egghead lost an arm in one of these, if Nole had been here you’d be looking at half of him. He’s in a bottle or he wandered off.” 

The air from outside was cold and dry and stank of unfamiliar trees. The night sky was black and overcast, leaving only a few slivers of moonlight and her torchlight as the only sources of illumination. She ignored another flutter of movement from curious vermin in the dark, and turned back to her vehicle. 

“Thank Zaur.” she said. The back half of the vehicle was untouched, and she was able to open the trunk without difficulty. Her Aegis was still there. She lifted the breastplate from the case and slipped it over her head, feeling the familiar hiss of the mechanical suit adjusting to fit her perfectly. She slid the blue and white armor on piece by piece, the armor doing the rest by locking into place, merging with her uniform. She slid the sword-bracer around her left forewarm and the shield-bracer around her right.

The various indicators and panels lit up as the armor powered on. She braced herself for the surge of strength and the disorientation that came as her nerves and the machine began to speak. A friendly, artificial voice spoke into her mind. “Dinobonding successful, diagnostics blue. Claw and Order online.”

She heard another strange noise in the darkness and saw another flutter of movement. She reached into the trunk, pulling a chemical flare from its compartment next to the roadside kit. “Okay, chittervoles, I’ve had just about enough of this.” 

She snapped the flare in half, throwing each in the general direction of the noise. The two cylindrical chunks sparked twice then surged to life, bathing the area in dull violet light. 

There were no chittervoles.

Five meters from Sheriff Horne, a ragged figure floated above the ground. It looked like someone had taken a drop of black ink the vague size and shape of a dinosovian, and had somehow dropped it into a pool of clear water. Wisps of darkness drifted off the form, threatening to dissolve it in the air, yet it never seemed any more or less substantial moment by moment. It was hunched and misshapen, she thought she could make out a horn and two heavy, clawed hands, but her attention was drawn by the things eyes. They were burning purple orbs, and a similar unnatural light seemed to roil inside the creature’s body like flashes of lightning in a thundercloud.

“What in Zaur’s names are you?” She asked. 

The creature stood silent for a brief moment, then opened its mouth, its teeth and tongue glowing with the same purple light that shone through its eyes. With an echoing, distorted scream it rushed toward her, claws outstretched.