#pixel lollipop

[bugsfavicons]

candy favicons !

( i lied a little, its mostly confectionery )

[wewerebornsextuplets]

i like that he keeps candy in his pocket. for emergencies of course

[wynns-wonderful-pixel-paradise]

Various Halloween goodies for you guys!!!

[yahoo-a-post]

Lollipop! 🍭 🍭 yumm yumm yumm

[kawaii--af]

[cutepinkloves]

[gerriesvrn]

[Pixel] Lollipops

I couldn't sleep...Here's some Lollipops. The last time I've had this kind of Lollipop it tasted like kid's medicine.

Follow me on: DeviantArt - /merrygerry Tumblr - /gerriesvrn Ko-fi - /gerriesvrn

[boredtechnologist]

Reviewing "Lollipop Chainsaw" involves exploring the game's unique narrative and thematic elements, while also weaving in its surrounding controversy and the broader existential, ethical, and gender-related implications.

1. The Dichotomy of Violence and Aesthetics: "Lollipop Chainsaw" juxtaposes intense, often brutal combat with a cheerfully vibrant aesthetic and a cheerleader protagonist. This contrast can be interpreted through the lens of aestheticization of violence, a concept explored in philosophical and cultural critiques. The game challenges players to consider the implications of presenting violence in a stylized, almost celebratory manner, raising questions about the normalization of violence in media and its impact on societal desensitization to real-world violence.

2. Gender Stereotypes and Objectification: The portrayal of the protagonist, Juliet, a conventionally attractive cheerleader who wields a chainsaw against zombies, brings forth discussions on gender stereotypes and objectification in video games. Juliet’s hyper-sexualized depiction raises philosophical questions about the representation of female characters in media, echoing feminist theories that critique the male gaze and the commodification of women's bodies in entertainment. The game's controversial portrayal of its female lead invites an analysis of the fine line between empowerment and exploitation.

3. The Absurdity of Existence and Postmodernism: "Lollipop Chainsaw," with its bizarre and over-the-top narrative, can be seen as a postmodern commentary on the absurdity of existence. The game's blending of disparate elements – high school life, cheerleading, zombies, and chainsaw combat – reflects a postmodern pastiche that challenges traditional narrative structures and meaning-making. It invites players to embrace the randomness and absurdity of life, questioning the need for conventional coherence in storytelling and reality itself.

4. Consumerism and Cultural Satire: The game's setting in a consumer-driven high school environment, coupled with the zombie apocalypse theme, serves as a critique of consumer culture and materialism. Zombies, often used as metaphors for mindless consumption in philosophical and cultural critiques, underscore the game's satirical take on consumerist society's shallowness and the loss of genuine human connection in a world dominated by material desires.

5. Ethical Implications of Escapism in Gaming: "Lollipop Chainsaw," with its fantastical elements and escapism, raises ethical questions about the role of games as a form of escape from reality. Philosophically, the game challenges players to consider the implications of immersing oneself in a fantasy world where moral consequences are skewed, and actions that would be reprehensible in reality are glorified or trivialized.

6. The Role of Controversy in Media and Cultural Discourse: The controversy surrounding "Lollipop Chainsaw," particularly regarding its depiction of gender and violence, highlights the role of controversy in shaping media and cultural discourse. The game becomes a focal point for debates about artistic freedom, censorship, and the responsibility of creators and consumers in engaging with contentious content. It invites philosophical discussion about the boundaries of artistic expression and the societal impact of controversial media.

In conclusion, "Lollipop Chainsaw" is a game that, beyond its vibrant and eccentric gameplay, offers a platform for deep philosophical exploration and cultural critique. It engages players with themes such as the aestheticization of violence, gender stereotypes and objectification, the absurdity of existence in a postmodern context, consumerism, the ethics of escapism, and the role of controversy in media. Through its narrative, gameplay, and the discussions it has sparked, the game presents an opportunity for players to engage with complex philosophical and ethical questions, making it a thought-provoking experience in the realm of interactive entertainment.

[pixelsbyflower]

Just a few of the many pride lollipops that can be found as stickers and buttons on my redbubble!

[brain-usurped-by-bug]

Sugar and Smoke

King Candy takes advantage of the luxuries of his new life, while still longing for the simple pleasures of his old.

Characters: King Candy/Turbo, Sour Bill, Turbo Twins (mentioned)

Tags: Smoking, bubble bath, eating lots of sweets, angst

Completed on September 15th, 2024. 1476 words.

...

The new skin felt strange. It was softer than he was used to, higher definition. The flesh was unscared, the eyes bright, the cheeks jolly. The cadaverous pallor, the sunken eyes, the body he had carried his entire life was gone, phased out, banished into electric aether.

It wasn’t what he had before. He could smile again, but it wasn’t the same smile. He had a car again, but it wasn’t his red rocket. He didn’t have the simple pleasures of his home world; the gentle wave of the pixelated green grass, the earthy scent of the simple dirt loop, the reliable company of the twin racers…

Whatever. He didn’t need them. He didn’t need any of it. It was old software; untextured, primitive. The players had outgrown it, he had outgrown it. It didn’t deserve him. What he deserved was this! A castle, hundreds of subjects hanging off his every word, glitter graphics, high definition, a spotlight, a crown! It was the least fate could repay him for his suffering, rotting unknown in crawl spaces for ten years.

His honey brown eyes bounded over the walls of his new domain, cataloged it, let his mouth water. Pink cookie walls, rainbow sugar glass, sparkling white icing. It had been a long, long time since he’d had a taste of something sweet. 

At the urging of his tongue he dove in, flew through his castle, eager to see every room, sample every flavor. Devour it, all of it, literally and metaphorically. It was his, all of it, all of it! 

He admired the paintings of ice cream landscapes, chewed the corners off the nightstand in the cheesecake guest room, let the swirl of the lollipops hypnotize him, Let chocolate doorknobs melt in his mouth, ran his palms up the twisting licorice banister, broke peppermint decorations off the walls and sucked them to points. 

He was in the middle of licking the icing off a gingerbread headboard when he caught the movement of a stranger behind him. He leapt off the bed and hurried to make himself presentable. The stranger stared back, licking his lips, adjusting the cuffs of his purple suit. The stranger had that look on his face, the look of being caught in the act. 

He approached, cautiously. The stranger approached, cautiously. They lifted their hands, fingers meeting on the mirror’s glass. The strange reflection turned its head, ran it’s peach fingers over the wisps of gray hair above its ears, squished the soft cheek, pulled at the corner of the lip, ran a red tongue over white teeth. It stood back a bit, dusted itself off. The reflection wore a purple tailcoat, gold puff pants, caramel leggings, a lace collar, a gold crown and a shimmering red candy wrapper bow tie. 

Not a single color carried over, no textures, not a sliver of his old face. This was good. It was. No one would ever recognise him. Even he didn't recognise him. He left the room. The stranger moved to follow, then vanished as he shut the door.

…

His room…. His room…. Ooh… he couldn't make a decision on it. It was different. Very different from what he was accustomed to. There was a rug, a clean one. Gingerbread armoires, rock candy lamps, footstools, a fainting couch, a make-up desk, wallpaper, a four poster bed with satin curtains! All white and pink. There was no black plastic, no exposed wires, no oil, no rubber, no concrete, no trophy shelf. Just sugar. 

He wanted to fix it. Bring in the scent of tools and grease, rust, motor oil and gasoline, antifreeze, real dirt, real grime. Was there anything real in this world? 

He reached for the pocket of his jumpsuit. His fingers grazed gold silk. He chuckled nervously and moved a hand to the new pocket within the interior breast of his tailcoat. He removed the contents and laid them on the bed. His last cigarette. A nondescript lighter. The password to the code room written on the corner of a Tapper’s napkin. These three things were the only possessions he had deemed essential enough to take with him. His homemade beer bottle string lights, portable radio, cassette tapes, checkered flag pillow, the steering wheel of his old car, all had to be left in the bowls of GCS. They were too big. Too tied to his old name. They were useless anyway, he didn't need old junk dragging him down. 

He took the cigarette between his teeth, lit the end, and let the smoke ease his rattled code. Tabaco lifted his insides, wafted from his lips, overpowered the smell of sugar. He breathed, out and in, tapped the ash off and kicked it under the bed. His softened gaze fell on the door to the bathroom. His personal, private bathroom. A luxury the greatest racer ever had yet to experience. A smile pinched the corners of his mouth. He slipped his possessions back into his tailcoat and locked himself in the new room.

The bathroom was pink and white, same as the bedroom, but it had more of the later color than the former. The floor was tiled with sugar cubes and the windows were made from frosted sugar glass, but the pink clawfoot tub was remarkably normal looking. Finally. He turned the wheel atop the gold faucet and watched crystal water flow. He frowned. This wasn't some strange candy water was it? He wasn't going to bathe in soda. He parked his cigarette between his first two fingers and leaned over the edge of the tub for a taste. Alright, it was just sparkling water. He could deal with that. He put the cigarette back between his lips, tossed in a bit of soap that promised a perfect bubble bath and stood aside to remove his clothes. 

He found something to recognise once his model was striped to its base. The skin may be different, but he still had the same bones, the same basic shape. The oversized head, short limbs, long feet, pudgy belly. He shifted the cigarette from the right corner of his mouth to the left and stuck a familiar pose; chest lifted, right hand gripping a (nonexistent) trophy, left hand giving the thumbs up.

‘Turbotastic!’

He almost said, catching the phrase before it left his mouth. His arms fell to his sides. The cigarette drooped on his lip. 

Careful, careful. You can’t keep anything from your old life. It’s gone. You're not getting any of it back. You're above it anyway, you've grown beyond. Throw off the old rags. 

He breathed smoke from his nose, shaking his head and muttering nonsense. He tapped cigarette ash into the sink, turned the faucet off and eased into his bubble bath. The soap’s label had been honest, some of the bubbles were nearly the size of his head. It was probably scented like something sweet, but he couldn't smell it through the tobacco. The water was what he expected; warm, fresh. Cleaner than him, almost certainly. 

He lay back. Soaking. Smoking his cigarette down to its filter. He started to hum to himself. 

“Hmm… hm hm hm hm, hm hm hm hm, hm hm h-”

The trumpets of the Turbotime overture played between his ears. The cheer of the plywood crowd. The way his fingers gripped the wheel, the way he’d turn it at the south bend, the dust he’d kick up, the way the twins would curse him when it got in their mouths, the way he’d laugh. They would beat him up after the race sometimes, when he t-boned them or made them spin out, but they always forgave him in time. If they had lived, would they have forgiven him for-

No, no no no stop stop STOP. He had to stop thinking about it, it had to disappear, he had to forget. He needed a distraction. He should have brought his casetes, more cigarettes. He threw a bar of soap at the service button beside the door. He missed, badly. He threw a larger bar and hit it this time. A dreary voice crackled over the intercom. 

“King Candy?”

“Sour Bill! I need music brought to my bathroom!”

A long pause. “Like… a band?” 

“No no! A radio, a walkman, something along those lines!” 

“Mmmm… we have a record player.” 

“That will do. Bring it in.”

“Yes sir. What kind of music do you want?”

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Anything, something… something energetic. I need cheering up.” 

“Yes sir. Is there anything else you need?”

He took a final drag, kept the smoke in his body as long as he dared, then let it escape. A ghostly tower, part of his soul fading into the air. He sighed. 

“No, that will be all.”

End

Author's notes: this was my first time writing fanfiction since like, 2019. It was fun to write something short and in a very different setting than what I normally write in. :)

[tofupixel]

your art is so beautiful and yummy, you're one of my inspirations for pixel art. some people's art styles have tastes to me, and yours is like a lollipop :)

oh thank you so much. i hope it is a good flavour!

[void-imp]

OCS as OBSCURE ASSOCIATIONS with jab

i was tagged by @lilypixels @agena87 @wldestluv-rs @mattodore and @hell-dusk! thank you so much. 🫶

ANIMAL: bat, jellyfish, white stag, barn owl, birds in general.

COLORS: generally purples, blues, pastels, pale grays. bright, cool cyan. black.

MONTH: february

SONGS: i'm so afraid - holland. he also has a playlist.

NUMBER: out of the trio, he is 1. other than that i mostly associate him with even numbers like 4 and 8.

PLANTS: forget-me-nots

SMELLS: mint, clean sheets, cotton candy, wet concrete

GEMSTONE: opalite

TIME OF DAY: 4AM

SEASON: spring

PLACES: outer space, cities at night, airports and liminal spaces

FOOD: instant noodles, small cakes

DRINKS: bubble tea, iced coffee, strawberry frappuccino

ELEMENT: air

ASTROLOGICAL SIGNS: libra, pisces

SEASONINGS: lavender, licorice

SKY: starry night sky

WEATHER: rain, clear nights, morning fog, days that are so cold you can see your breath

MAGICAL POWER: ability to see and communicate with ghosts and spirits, rapid teleportation through space

WEAPONS: hobby knife

SOCIAL MEDIA: instagram

MAKEUP PRODUCT: lipgloss

CANDY: blue lollipop, bubblegum

METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL: airplane

ART STYLE: pixel art, digital art, watercolors

FEAR: fear of forgetting

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: ghosts

PIECE OF STATIONARY: sticky notes, glitter pens

THREE EMOJIS: ☔️🌌😈

CELESTIAL BODY: stars

tagging @simmingonthelow @morgynemberisagenderfluiddaddy @adelarsims @iowaisms @madfeary @gothoffspring and @raiiny-bay

[hello-eeveev]

BOY LOCATED

[image description: a very small, very pixelated screenshot of the essek action figure on the critrole table next to a toy lollipop. /end image description]

[kawaii--af]

[lovelythief]

𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑: 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍

𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚔𝚒 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚠; 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗/𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚊𝚌𝚜, 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟷,𝟿𝟹𝟺

You sighed and adjusted your tote filled to the brim with herbs, fruits, and vegetables across your shoulder. You felt heavier than usual; your steps slow and breath ragged, and you briefly wondered if you somehow caught some illness with rapid-onset symptoms. Your thoughts began to feel fuzzy as you stumbled to a stop in front of Otose’s Snack House, staring up at your home with a strange expression. Maybe you really were sick, you thought as you forced your feet up the stairs.

But where could you have gotten this? You went out into town for just a few hours to restock the fridge with actual food for once. It’s true that the pollen in Edo today was particularly bad—which was strange for this time of year—but stranger things have happened in the world of Gintama.

You rubbed your temple with the heel of your palm, your throbbing headache only getting worse. Maybe you should take a nap... You opened the door and announced your return with a grumble, sliding off your shoes and setting the tote down on the sofa.

“You look like shit,” Gintoki greeted while sucking lazily on a lollipop, “did you get sick again or something?”

You shrugged half-heartedly and opened the door to the bedroom, ignoring the pull in your chest to cuddle up to Gin. If you really were sick, you shouldn’t let him catch it too. “I’m going to take a nap, please turn down the TV.”

“Okay,” he drawled, returning his attention to the news broadcast as you shut the door behind you.

Gintoki leaned back into the couch, crossing his legs widely and hanging his arms over the back as he stared mindlessly at Ketsuno Ana—his long-time celebrity crush—only for the broadcast to be suddenly and very rudely interrupted by today’s breaking news. He reached over to grab the remote, but his fingers faltered on the button as the reporter on-scene began to speak in a muffled panic into their gasmask.

“We’re getting reports of a large alien flower that fell into Edo this morning and the pollen that has contaminated the entirety of the city’s air.” Gintoki watches as the pixelated censorship surrounding the reporter barely concealed the (explicit) truth behind what’s taken over Edo. “Please be cautious as you exit your homes today, as interaction with this pollen can cause insatiable lust and—”

Gintoki’s wide eyes turn from the television to the closed room door, and he shakes his head furiously. “No, no, this is ridiculous. It’s some bad marketing scheme to sell more condoms,” he reasoned, “besides, it’s a cheap trope! There’s just no way!” but his faltering voice could not hide his concern.

He shuffled up close to his bedroom, put an ear against the shoji and held his breath.

 It’s too hot. There’s no way you could sleep like this.

Frustrated, you shoved your heavy clothes off your feverish body, hoping that the breeze would cool you down, but quickly found that—even with your entire body freed from the oppressive cloth—you were still sweating. Still uncomfortable.

Your thighs were sticky, and you reached down to wipe away at the sweat, but as your fingers brushed against your inner thigh, you realized two things: the sticky feeling against your thighs wasn’t sweat, and if you stopped touching yourself, you might actually die.

The pounding of your head stopped for brief moments as you, with as much embarrassment as someone high on aphrodisiacs could have, pressed your hand more firmly against your aching cunt and gasped. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against your fingers the moment you made contact.

The relief from the stimulation made you throw your head back. It was hard to keep yourself quiet when everything outside of your current field of vision faded when contested with this high. You keened as your fingers caught your clit.

You didn’t notice Gintoki slide into the dark bedroom, his eyes shaded by his bangs and his dick hard against the strain of his pants. You only opened your eyes to see his expressionless face staring at you as you pleasured yourself when the comforters shifted as he knelt above you.

“T-Toki,” you choked, the sudden attention mortifying and dizzying. Your cunt clenched against nothing, arousal gushing against your fingers as your addled mind began crying out for Gintoki, “why’m I—?”

“Are you an idiot? How did you let yourself get hit by an alien aphrodisiac?”

Your hand reached out to grasp his clothes for support as you finally slipped your fingers inside, your eyes never leaving his. “Dunno,” you slurred, clutching his yukata and tugging it uselessly, “need—I need—oh!”

Gintoki clicked his tongue and leaned down, offering you a quick and chaste kiss to see if something simple would snap you out of it already. Your eyes, blown wide, stared past him in pleasure, and it only took a moment before you lunged your body up to crash your lips to his again. “Mmf—” Gintoki pressed his hand against your clavicle and pushed your body back down as your lips broke contact. “—damn it, woman!” he cursed, “don’t throw yourself at me like that!”

You arched your back, the skin-to-skin contact of his warm hand on your chest electrifying your brain and making you pant like a dog. “—kissing won’t work,” you spoke in a rush, “need... need you to—to—fuck me!”

Gintoki’s throat went dry, watching you helplessly cry out for him while you tried to get yourself off with your small fingers. The news really didn’t prepare him for the reality of how desperate this pollen made people—but at least it told him one important thing. Sexual relief, huh?

Gintoki wordlessly stood up, ignoring your whine from his absence, and pulled off his belt, tossing it to the floor. His clothes followed, landing in a puddle beneath him, leaving himself naked before he settled himself at your feet. Your fingers squelched every time they entered you, picking up speed as you watched Gintoki strip, your eyes glued to his dick as it sprung from his pants and rested with a curve against his abdomen.

It was too much for a man to take.

“Agh, fucking fine! I’ll make you cum again and again until that stupid pollen is out of your system!” Gintoki growled out, forcefully pulling your hand from between your thighs and grasping your hips to flip you over onto your stomach with ease. Your legs spread apart naturally and he knocked them the rest of the way with his knees. “I don’t want to hear a single goddamn complaint from you about this, got it?”

Entranced, you could only plead and wiggle your ass as you clutched the comforters tightly between your fingers, turning your head over your shoulder and looking up at Gintoki with large, glassy eyes.

Chest heaving, Gintoki stroked his dick with a few furious pumps, digging his nails into your hip to keep you still as he nudged his length inside your pussy, slipping in quick and easy with how much slick dripped from you. “Shit,” he hissed as he bottomed out, irritated by your constant squirming as you tried to get him to fuck you because he was too stimulated from the way you squeezed around him, “calm down.”

“Caaaan’t!” you whined, biting your knuckles. Tears pricked at your eyes as the overwhelming need to be railed within an inch of your life—and being so close to getting what you wanted—drove you crazy. You weren’t sure how much of it was the aphrodisiac speaking, and how much of it was yourself.

Gintoki fucked you with slow, full strokes. His hands squeezed your hips and controlled you, forcing you still despite the way you tried to press your ass back into him every time he pulled out to the tip. He could feel your cunt flutter in a messy rhythm, trying to keep his cock nestled deeply inside and crying out when he only gave you the bulbous tip.

You were louder than usual; babble spilling from your lips as Gintoki’s tip knocked against your cervix with each powerful thrust. Normally, it would take a while to break you down and get you to be this shameless, but you gave it to him freely now, crying out your affections and desires, begging him to fuck you deeper, fuck you faster, make you cum.

Voice mocking, Gintoki asked you, “are you really trying to order Gin-san around?” He bent over your back, wrapping one hand around your neck and the other arm tucking beneath your breasts, pulling you up onto your knees to mercilessly pound your gummy walls with shorter, faster strokes. Gintoki huffed and stared at the blissful expression on your face. “Is this what you wanted? Huh?”

“Yesyesyes,” you threw your head back against Gintoki’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open with untampered pleasure. “More.”

“How greedy are you?” Gintoki grunted, flexing his forearm, putting slight pressure against your throat while he rubbed your clit with two large fingers. “Making me do all the work”—he snapped his hips against yours and shuddered as you wailed—“when this was supposed to be Gin-san’s day off?” his voice raised over the wet slaps from your slick dripping down his balls.

“’m sorry, ‘m sorry, please!” you held onto Gintoki’s biceps for dear life as your legs shook with the force of his quickening thrusts. You gritted your teeth as he pinched your clit, drool escaping the corner of your lips as your orgasms indistinguishably blended in with the buzzing of the pollen and waves of pleasure. You didn’t know how many times you came; if you came once or four times in a row, it didn’t matter, not when Gintoki kept drilling his hips into you.

Gintoki relentlessly fucked you through your spiraling high and quickly started chasing his own orgasm with each clench and squeeze from your cunt. Gintoki threw his hand back up from your clit to your breasts, fondling them roughly, pinching and tugging your nipples, his dick twitching as you choked back a yelp. He buried his face against your shoulder and bared his teeth, biting down hard enough to get a scream of his name in the darkness of his room. Gintoki lost himself in shallow thrusts, enveloped tightly by your warm, wet pussy, until he flooded your senses with his cum.

He stayed buried inside of you for a minute, tired and sweaty with the unexpected exertion. Gintoki pulled out with a low groan, momentarily entranced by the dribble of his cum following him and sticking to your thighs.

You collapsed onto the futon—gross with the mess of fluids—and sighed out with relief. “T...Thanks, Toki,” you mumbled despite your dry throat. You felt a little more normal now, but you could still feel the dull throb of your cunt was not entirely satisfied yet despite already dripping with Gin’s semen.

Gintoki rolled over next to you, his arms tucked under his head. He looked at you with some concern, wondering if he pushed you too far despite your ailment. “Better?” he asked.

You sat up and mindlessly rubbed your bitten shoulder. “Mmm...” you half-heartedly replied, your eyes trailing from Gintoki’s face down his chest, to his dick. He watched you silently as you crawled over him and sat on his thighs, your face red as you shamelessly glided your cum-soaked cunt against his dick.

“I think I could... go for a little longer... please, Gintoki?”

[gigabyte-flare]

Follow the Stars | Part 2

Part 1

Summary: Teaming up with Victoria Housekeeping to rescue her best friend, Pixel finds that her infatuation with Lycaon grows by the day. Can she keep her wits about her long enough to save Rain?

Word Count: 5.7k

Pairing: Von Lycaon x Original Character

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Strong language, graphic depictions of violence, depictions of PTSD, domestic violence and emotional abuse (not perpetrated by Lycaon), masterbation, unprotected p in v, oral (m and f receiving), size kink, knotting, creampie

More warnings may be added in future entries

Sometimes in life, you see something so beautiful that time slows down, even stops. That's what was happening now as Lycaon continues his decent down the stairs, each reverberating step from his mechanical legs causing my heart to pound in my ears until he stops in front of me, a subtle smile appearing.

"My name is Von Lycaon, but please, call me Lycaon. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Proxy."

Thank goodness that Pixel isn't capable of blushing, because I can only imagine my actual face is as red as a beet right now. Now that he's standing directly in front of me, I can't help but marvel at his elegance. His right arm tucked behind him while his other hand adjusts his collar. Despite the mask, I can't deny how incredibly handsome he is, that crimson eye feeling like it's piercing into my soul. And his voice--

I get a sudden jab in where my rib cage should be if Pixel were human, and it makes me realize I had just been standing there staring at him like a complete dumbass. I look to my left, seeing Anby standing beside me, gesturing towards Lycaon with her eyes.

"J-Just call me Pixel." I say quickly, desperately attempting to recompose myself.

"Of course, Master Pixel. Allow me to introduce the other members of Victoria Housekeeping," he points to Corin before continuing, "this is Corin."

Corin gives me a friendly wave while Rina's two floating Bangboo help put the saw blade back on her weapon.

"Over here is our head maid, Rina."

Rina curtsies before smiling warmly, "so nice to meet you Master Pixel, we've heard much about your exploits."

"And finally," Lycaon continues, gesturing towards the shark Thiren who is currently pulling her giant scissors out of the floor, "this is Ellen."

Ellen pulls her weapon free, a lollipop sticking out from her lips as she looks to me, giving me a nod, "'sup?"

"It's nice to meet you all," I reply, looking back to Lycaon, feeling my heart flutter upon making eye contact, "I apologize if this comes off blunt, but I honestly haven't heard of Victoria Housekeeping."

"That's not surprising," Rina replies, floating over to Lycaon's side, "we tend to serve more… elite clientele, for lack of a better term."

"We were sent here by our current employer to perform maintenace on the Ballet Twins and to ensure no intruders break into the building," Lycaon adds.

"But I thought the Ballet brothers went backrupt and the buildings went through foreclosure!" Nekomata chimes in as she moves to stand next to me.

"And you'd be absolutely correct," Lycaon explains, resting his chin on his knuckles of his left hand, "our employer has purchased the building in hopes of making use out of it."

"Leave it to rich people throw money away in useless places…" Nekomata groans.

No kidding…

"So, what brings you into the Ballet Twins?" Rina asks.

I hesitate to answer, not wanting to give away the fact that Rain is a hacker, "we're looking for my friend. We believe she's here--"

I'm suddenly startled when I hear a subtle chime in my ear, followed by a video feed popping up on my glasses showing a young girl with dark blue hair. I recognize her immediately: Belle, the co-owner of Random Play.

Phaethon.

"Pixel is that you?! It's Phaethon!"

"How on Earth did you get a hold of me? This is a private channel!" I ask, my eyebrows furrowed.

Another, more robotic, female voice speaks, "you really think your pathetic encryption is any match for the world's most powerful A.I.?"

"Fairy, come on, not now!" Belle groans, rolling her eyes.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that…" I say, clearing my throat, "so what's up, Phaethon?"

"Are Anby and the others with you? I need to talk to them, it's urgent!"

"Yeah, hold on, let me project you."

With a few keystrokes on the H.D.D., Belle's video feed gets projected out from my glasses along with her voice. Little does she know she is seeing the Cunning Hares through my eyes.

"Hey guys!" Belle begins, "Nicole just called me. Apparently the court needs all the members of the Cunning Hares present at the trial."

"Oh come on! Are you serious?!" Billy whines, crossing his arms.

"Unfortunately, yes. Because you were all there, they need your testimony."

A lump forms in my throat. I could very well continue through the Ballet Twins on my own, but it would be extremely difficult, especially if I happen upon an extremely powerful Ethereal.

"What about Pixel? We can't just leave her, she needs our help!" Nekomata exclaims, the concern evident in her voice.

"I believe Victoria Housekeeping may be of assistance," Lycaon chimes in, "our outdated Carrot data is hindering our work and you are looking for your friend. Cooperating would be mutually beneficial."

My mouth goes dry instantly and I feel my heart race. He's not wrong and I am going to accept his help… but oh boy, do I need to get these nerves under control. Why is he effecting me like this?

"Sure, that'll work. Thank you, Lycaon, for your generosity," I say as I look over at him, which of course, only makes the butterflies in my stomach even worse.

"You are most welcome," Lycaon replies with a slight bow, "you are our honored guest, after all and your wish is our command."

My breath hitches and it takes everything in me not to scream. It feels like my blood is on fire. What is wrong with me?

"Are we meeting up with Nicole to board the airship?" Anby asks, her voice soft.

"Yes, first thing in the morning," Belle replies.

A subtle alert then goes off, warning me that my hydraulic fluid levels are decreasing. I look down at my damaged arm, lifting it up to inspect the damage.

"Sorry about your arm," Ellen suddenly says, her tone non-chalant as she shifts the lollipop in her mouth.

"It's alright, you were just doing your job," I reply, "however, I can't go further into the Hollow until I get this repaired."

"Would you like assistance in repairing it? I am quite experienced in the matter," Lycaon offers, taking a step closer to me to inspect my arm.

My anxiety immediately spikes, "No!" I shout as I take a step back away from him, holding my damaged arm to my chest. Realizing how harsh that had come across, I shake my head and continue, "I mean… no thank you. I can handle it. I've had to repair it before."

"I see," Lycaon replies, his crimson gaze locked on me, "in that case, see to your arm and contact us when you are ready to continue into the Hollow."

I give him a nod in acknowledgement, afterwards finding the closest exit to the Hollow and leading everyone out. Once out of the Hollow, I couldn't get home fast enough. I fly up my apartment stairs, unlock and whip open the door, shut it behind me and get Pixel hooked back up to the H.D.D. to charge before I disconnect myself. I practically rip the headset and nodes off, taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart before I rush into the bathroom. I crank the cold water as high as it will go in the sink, dipping my hands into it and bringing the cold water to my face, splashing myself with it.

I do this a few more times before finally leaning against the sink and looking at myself in the mirror. As I had suspected, my face is completely red. I take a few deep breaths before leaving the bathroom and going back out into the living room. I walk up to Pixel, lifting her damaged arm and letting out a loud sigh. It's fixable, but the damage is severe, the worst that's been inflicted in a while. Better my arm than Nekomata getting impaled.

"This will be a tomorrow me problem…" I say before letting out a loud yawn.

I glance over at my wall clock; it's well past midnight. Trying to repair her arm now is not going to do me any favors. I shuffle my way into my bedroom, practically collapsing into my bed where I quickly fall asleep.

"Hey, don't tell me you're fucking sleeping!"

My eyes snap open and I find myself laying on my couch with the last person I ever expected to see standing over me, looking down at me in disgust: Jace.

"What are you doing in my apartment, Jace? I told you to stay away from me. How did you even get in here?"

He's wearing his trademark hoodie, his dark brown hair cut short and parted in the middle. His brown eyes look almost black in the darkness of the living room.

"A Thiren? So that's what you're going to rebound to, really?" Jace mockingly asks, a sinister smirk spreading across your lips.

Knowing he's referring to Lycaon, I sit up on the couch, shifting myself away from him, "I'm not rebounding to anyone. We haven't been together for five years, Jace. You. Don't. Own. Me."

"Oh see… that's where you're wrong 'Armada,'" Jace sneers, "I'm the only one that wanted your pathetic ass. Do you seriously think that Thiren would even look in your direction? Have you seen how fat you are? No wonder you hide behind that android of yours."

I can feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to cry. I am not shedding any more tears in front of this monster.

"Go fuck yourself, Jace," I growl at him, glaring at him.

Jace throws his head back as he starts to laugh--

BZZZZZTTTT!

I'm startled awake by the sound of my phone vibrating next to my head. I groan, rolling over onto my back and rubbing my eyes. My phone vibrates a couple of more times before I reach for it, holding it above me to check it. My eyes widen upon seeing the notification.

Lycaon: Good Morning…

I unlock my phone to read the rest of the message, my stomach in knots. I open Knock Knock to be surprised to find several messages from Lycaon.

Lycaon: Good Morning, Master Pixel, this is Lycaon from Victoria Housekeeping. I apologize if I woke you.

Lycaon: Please let me know once the repairs on your arm are complete. We can meet by the plaza on Ballet Twins Road.

Lycaon: Also, my offer still stands. Should you require any assistance with the repairs, please don't hesitate to ask. I would be more than happy to help. We look forward to working with you.

I take a deep breath, composing myself before I type out a reply.

Pixel: Thank you, Lycaon. I look forward to working with you as well.

I gently toss my phone back onto the bed before practically rolling out of it. Practically dragging my feet to the bathroom, I wince when I turn the light on. Looking at myself in the mirror, my hair is disheveled and the bags under my eyes are dark. I start by brushing my teeth and brushing the rat's nest out of my short hair. Afterwards, I return to my bedroom, getting myself dressed in a simple graphic t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

Grabbing my phone up from the bed, I walk into the living room, turning on the TV before walking over to Pixel. I set my phone down onto my computer desk, opening up a deep drawer in the desk where I keep my tools and a bottle of hydraulic fluid to replace what had been lost. I try to keep a bottle on hand, just in case.

A good portion of the day is spent repairing the arm, stopping occassionally to eat and use the bathroom. In the midst of this, my mind constantly goes back to Lycaon despite my best efforts to not think about him. What is it about him that has me so enraptured? When was the last time I even felt like this about someone? I stop what I'm doing and lean back in my computer chair, placing my hands on my face and rubbing it, groaning while doing so.

Unsurprisingly, my thoughts also drift back to the dream I had last night. Jace was my ex-boyfriend; I escaped his clutches about 5 years ago. I was a Proxy and he was an information broker. Right… my Proxy name was Armada back then; I'm surprised I had forgotten. Jace was controlling, manipulative and cruel and he also had me wrapped around his finger.

As terrified as I was, I fled our shared apartment on Canvas Street and never looked back. I went into hiding. I didn't take Proxy work for a couple of years out of fear of being found by Jace. When I finally had the courage to take another job, a job in Hollow Zero, I stumbled upon Pixel. Anyone else would have looked at that broken android and just left it there to rot. But not me.

Pixel was my ticket to a new life.

It was Rain that helped me get back on my feet, helped me repair Pixel and set her up so that I could control her with my H.D.D. like a Bangboo. With Pixel, I can fight along side the Agents I work with instead of them having to worry about me; it's what made me so sought after right up there with Phaethon. Soon, I was able to afford my own apartment, which leads me to now.

I remove my hands from my face, sit back up and continue working on the arm. Rain is trapped in that Hollow still and I need to get back in there and find her. It's the least I can do for everything she's done for me.

Waking up to me sliding out of my computer chair and onto my floor covered in hydraulic fluid is not my ideal way of waking up. I groan and curse as I struggle to stand back up, slipping on the fluid several times in my 'just woken up' daze. I must have passed out while working on Pixel's arm, that's not like me at all. I look over at my clock; it's just past 7:00 in the morning. As I finally stand up, I look around at the mess on the floor, hearing Jace's scolding in the back of my mind.

"God, what the hell are you good for anyway? I'm out there trying to find commissions for us and you just sulk around here and make a mess of the apartment. You're fucking useless!"

I quickly dismiss the memory with a shake of my head and make my way to the bathroom. I strip my ruined clothes, throwing them in the hamper before jumping into the shower. After getting myself cleaned up, I got into my bedroom and put on clean clothes. Then, I head out in to the small kitchen, grabbing paper towels and multi-purpose cleaner and try to clean the hydraulic fluid off the floor as best as I could. It's not perfect, but at least I won't slip in it. I had fixed where it was leaking last night so it shouldn't get worse.

I get back to fixing the arm, however I realize there's a piece of metal on the blade's support itself that is damaged beyond any repair I make to it. Cursing silently to myself, I take the piece off and inspect it.

You could ask for Lycaon's help, you know.

I grab my phone off my desk, opening up Knock Knock and stare at the chat history between Lycaon and I. After a few moments of my thumb hovering over the keyboard on my phone, I set my phone back down onto the desk, letting out a loud sigh.

No… I don't need him. I don't need his help. I'll bring this part to Enzo's shop, then I'll swing over to the newsstand to get a scratch card, then I'll go treat myself to a coffee. Yeah, that'll work!

Standing up from my computer chair, I grab a hoodie that is slung over the back of the couch, pulling it on over my head before grabbing my keys off the coffee table, slipping my sneakers on at the door just before I head out. The heart of Sixth Street is a short walk from my apartment. As I walk up to Enzo's shop, I lean over to look at Random Play, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

Maybe I'll swing by and rent a movie. That'll give me an excuse to check up on Phaethon.

I open the heavy door to Enzo's shop and step inside, the door slamming shut behind me. Enzo looks up at me from his work bench, a big smile appearing from under his busy beard, he gives me a friendly wave with his mechanical arm.

"Pixel! What'dya break this time?" he asks with a chuckle.

There are only two people that know I'm Pixel: Rain and Enzo and I trust both of them with my life. I give him a gentle smile in return, walking up to him with the broken part in my hands.

"One of the support pieces for the right mantis blade." I reply as I set the part down on his work bench.

Enzo lets out a long whistle, "damn girl, how did you manage to do that?"

"By deflecting a giant pair of scissors that were going to impale one of my agents I was working with," I reply nonchalantly.

"A giant pair of scissors?" Enzo says as he looks up at me, raising an eyebrow.

"I… had a run-in with a group called Victoria Housekeeping. Heard of them?"

"Yeah… I've heard of 'em," Enzo replies, picking up the part and inspecting it, "they're a pretty prestigious bunch; serving the crème de la crème of New Eridu. Their leader has literal rocket legs; he's not one to fuck around with Pixel…"

There's a hint of concern in his voice that I immediately pick up on, "oh no, no! We're fine now! It was just a misunderstanding. We just so happened to be in the building that they were contracted to protect, that's all. Once I get Pixel's arm fixed, they're actually going to be helping me."

"Oh… oh ok, good!" Enzo replies, the relief evident as he continues to inspect the part.

"So… can you fix it…?" I ask nervously.

"Yeah I can fix it. I'm going to need to hammer and weld the shit out of it. It'll take me about an hour or so. That ok?"

"Absolutely, of course!" I reply, relieved. Thinking about his comment about Lycaon's 'rocket legs,' I become curious if he knows Lycaon, "their leader… do you know anything about him?"

"Von Lycaon?" Enzo says as he picks up his hammer and other tools to begin working on the broken part, "not really. I didn't make those legs of his. Don't know who did. I've heard stories of what they can do to people though."

Once again, a lump forms in my throat and I swallow hard, "oh… really…? He must be pretty strong then…"

"There's a reason he's feared by the outlaws in the Hollows. Promise me you won't get on his bad side, ok Pixel?"

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on it," I say as I take a step back from Enzo's work bench.

I just keep turning into a train wreck around him, no big deal…

"I'll swing by later to pick that up and pay you, ok?" I continue as I make my way to the door.

"You got it. Take it easy, Pixel!"

"See you later, Enzo!"

I open the heavy door, stepping back outside to head over to the newsstand. I get about a couple of steps in when I stop myself dead in my tracks. Standing at the newsstand with his back to me is an incredibly tall Thiren with a long, bushy tail, white fur and is handsomely dressed. His right arm is tucked behind his back.

What the hell is Lycaon doing on Sixth Street?!

I've lived just off Sixth Street for a number of years now and not once have I ever seen him here; I would definitely remember. My heart is practically pounding out of my chest and I start breathing heavy. I hesitantly get closer to the newsstand, enough to hear the conversation he's having with Howl, the dog that runs the newsstand.

"No… not the Ridu Tour, I said the City News…" Lycaon groans, one of his mechanical legs tapping on the ground, his tail twitching back and forth slightly, "no I don't want to shake your paw, either…"

Is he… is he actually having trouble talking to Howl?

The implication of a wolf Thiren unable to talk to a dog causes me to smile a bit and I have to fight myself not to laugh out loud. Gathering up every ounce of courage I can muster, I walk up to the newsstand next to Lycaon, smiling warmly when Howl shifts his attention to me.

"Morning Howl!" I say, making sure to elevate the tone of my voice a couple of octaves, "two copies of the City News, please!"

As Howl retrieves the City News for me, I take a moment to really look at Lycaon out of my peripheral vision. I could tell he was tall from Pixel's eyes, but seeing him in person gives me a much better idea. He's well over 180cm; I'd say even 190cm. He also smells unbelievably good; he clearly takes very good care of himself. Howl passes me two copies of the City News and I give him the Dennies for them. Turning to Lycaon, I hold out one of the copies to him.

"Here you go, mister!" I say, looking up at him.

Oh… oh… looking up at him was a really bad idea. I feel the heat rush to my cheeks immediately as his exposed crimson eye practically stares into my soul. His presence was overwhelming through Pixel; in person it's on a whole over level. He carefully takes the City News from me, giving me a subtle smile as his fingers and claws gently graze my hand.

Oh my god… he just had to smile at me didn't he? He's so handsome… what I'd give to be able to f--

"Thank you, miss. Allow me to pay you back--"

"No it's fine, don't worry about it! Have a nice day!" I spit out at record speed.

I spin on my heel and b-line it to Random Play, my heart pounding in my ears. I push the door open, quickly shutting it behind me and leaning against it, holding my hand to my chest as I try to calm my racing heart… and my racing extremely inappropriate thoughts. Belle, who had been leaning over the front counter looking at her phone, looks up at me and smiles.

"Welcome in! We haven't seen you in a while!" she exclaims as she comes out from behind the counter; seeing how flustered I am, her face grows concerned, "is something the matter?"

"Sorry I…" I take a couple of deep breaths before continuing, "I'm fine, really."

I stand up straight, finally calming myself down as I smile at Belle.

"I saw PubSec was over here the other night," I say, changing the subject, "everything ok?"

"Oh yeah, everything is fine! We busted someone trying to steal some of the tapes, that's all!" Belle says, gesturing her hands like it wasn't a big deal.

"Is your brother around?" I ask after taking a quick glance around the shop.

"No, he's running errands in Lumina Square, he should be back later this afternoon, hopefully!"

So he's still in PubSec custody… shit…

"Tell him I said hi when he gets back, will you?" I say as I walk around her to look at the tapes.

"Of course!"

After picking out a tape to rent, I walk up to the door leading outside, looking out of the window to see if Lycaon is still out there. To my relief, he's nowhere to be found. I step out, waving goodbye to Belle before heading right. I walk past Waterfall Soup, saying good morning to General Chop before walking up to Coff Cafe and heading inside. After getting my order of coffee, I go back outside, sitting down at one of the tables, reading the City News as I take sips out of my coffee. Most of it is about the impending trial with the Vision Corporation, but as I'm reading it, my mind starts to wander.

The memory of him smiling down at me when I handed him the City News will forever be burned into my mind, my heart fluttering just picturing it. When was the last time anyone made me feel like this? Not even Jace made me feel like this in the beginning of our relationship. What is it about Von Lycaon that is putting me in such a tizzy? My mind is in such a daze, I completely miss my mouth when I sip my coffee, spilling it down the front of my hoodie and onto the City News.

"Aw shit…" I curse to myself as I stand up from the table.

I throw away the ruined newspaper before pulling my coffee soaked hoodie off. Thankfully at this time, Enzo messages me on Knock Knock, letting me know that the part is all set and ready to pick up. I waste no time in picking up the part and making my way back to my apartment.

The sooner I can get Pixel's arm fixed, the sooner I can rescue Rain, finish this job, put Von Lycaon behind me and get my life back to some semblance of normal.

Once I get back to my apartment, I'm able to get the arm repaired late that evening. I reach out to Lycaon on Knock Knock and we agree to meet up on Ballet Twins Road the following evening. I take the opportunity to rest up the entirety of the following day, knowing that it was most likely going to be an all nighter looking for Rain. I get up just as the sun's setting, get the H.D.D. booted up and get geared up to control Pixel.

I run a few tests with my arm to make sure it's functioning as it should before heading out. I head down to my car in the parking lot and get in. Driving while controlling Pixel is possible, but I don't like doing it unless I absolutely have to and, unfortunately, there are no metro stops that go to Ballet Twins road. I pull up to the plaza that over looks the Ballet Twins Hollow, parking my car. I spot Lycaon immediately, which causes my stomach to twist into knots.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Pixel," I scold myself as I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, "get yourself together. He's just a guy."

I look back over at him for a moment, my eyes drawn to his mechanical legs, making a note of Enzo's warning of 'the things he's heard of those legs doing to people.' After taking a deep breath, I climb out of the car and walk over to him. Upon seeing me, Lycaon bows slightly.

"Good evening, Master Pixel. I trust the repairs on your arm were successful?" he asks as he stands back up straight.

"Yup," I say, smiling at him as I lift my arm up, deploying the mantis blade like nothing had happened to it, "good as new!"

"Excellent, then let us meet with the others. They're waiting in the plaza below."

Shifting my arm back to normal, I follow Lycaon down a set of stairs leading to the Ballet Twins plaza that overlooks the Hollow. Once we join the rest of Victoria Housekeeping, Lycaon motions with one hand for everyone to gather around. He pulls out a piece of paper that was folded in his breast pocket, unfolding it to reveal a drawing of the Ballet Twins.

"If Master Pixel is correct, her friend is on the roof of tower B," he begins to explain as one clawed finger points at the drawing, "we will need to make our way up tower A until we reach the atrium that leads to a catwalk that links the two buildings together. Then, of course, we make our way to the roof of tower B."

I find myself zoning out listening to him, his voice lulling me into a blissful daze as he continues to explain the general layout of the Ballet Twins. I can almost imagine the smell of his cologne from when I had bumped into him at the newsstand.

"Master Pixel?" Lycaon suddenly says, his voice touched with concern as I'm snapped out of my daze, "are you alright?"

I shake my head as I look up up at him, "Yeah, sorry… I'm fine! I'm just worried about my friend… that's all…"

"Of course, then let's not waste anymore time. Lead the way, Master Pixel." Lycaon replies gesturing one of his arms towards the Hollow.

Despite not being in the Hollow physically, they always make me uneasy. However, the Ballet Twins Hollow is making me extremely on edge. I didn't believe in ghosts, but the rumors of the Ballet Twins being haunted linger in the back of my mind. If my memory serves me, it's supposedly haunted by the spirits of two dancers. If we're in here long enough, we may see if those rumors are true.

Our ascent up tower A is mostly uneventful with Victoria Housekeeping having cleared most of the Ethereals on the lower floors the other day, but as we get higher up, more and more pockets of them appear and I witness first hand what makes them so sought after by the elite of New Eridu. They fight together like a well oiled machine; Ellen's swift and graceful movements coupled with her deadly scissors make short work of large groups of enemies. Corin, while not as coordinated, is a force to be reckoned with with her large battle saw, cutting into the Ethereals with ease. Meanwhile, Rina with her two Bangboos floats around the battlefield elegantly, shocking her enemies so that Ellen and Corin can go in for the kill.

However, my attention is constantly going to Lycaon. Fighting with the grace of a professional dancer, those 'rocket legs' of his are no joke. I watch in awe as they are engineered to freeze. Once in a while he throws a punch or two, but most of his fighting is done with those powerful legs. From sweeping roundhouse kicks to somersaults, he is truly captivating to watch. At one point he kicks one leg straight into the air, sending an unlucky Ethereal flying.

Can you imagine how he is in bed?

I wince, immediately banishing the thought. I need to get these thoughts under control. Not only do I have a job to do, I need to rescue Rain. A sudden shriek from Corin grabs my attention. She's completely surrounded by Ethereals, so I deploy both my mantis blades, running up and practically launching myself at the Ethereal behind her, lunging one of my mantis blades straight into its core.

After the two of us fight off the horde of Ethereals that had ganged up on her, the lights above start to flicker, causing both of us to stop and look up.

"What's going on?!" Corin asks, clutching her battle saw close as she looks anxiously up at the lights.

Lycaon approaches calmly, one arm tucked behind his back as he observes the flickering lights, "it appears that the building's power is failing. We'll need to be quick, if my memory serves me there is a partition in front of the catwalk that will close if the power goes out. We need to hurry."

We quicken our pace as we continue our ascent, fighting off increasing numbers of Ethereals along the way, all the while I still admire Lycaon's prowess out of the corner of my eye. We eventually stop to collect ourselves for a moment and I take the opportunity to pull up an old blueprint of the Ballet Twins using my H.D.D. and project it out from my glasses for Lycaon and I too look over.

"If I'm reading this right… the catwalk bridging the two buildings is close," I say, dragging my fingers across the projected blueprint, examining it.

As if on queue, the lights start flickering again, but this time faster and more pronounced. I swallow hard.

"The lights are flickering faster, we have to go, now!" Lycaon says as he takes off down the hallway; the other members of Victoria Housekeeping following close behind him.

"H-Hey! Wait up!" I shout as I dismiss the blueprint and run after them, quickly catching up.

"Leave the fighting to us, Master Proxy!" Rina calls back as she floats along.

As we run, the members of Victoria Housekeeping fight off approaching Ethereals with ease, however the power was flickering more and more as we progressed. I pull the blueprint back up as we continue to run.

"The atrium to the catwalk is just ahead!" I shout as we round a corner, the catwalk now in our sights.

I watch as Lycaon's legs start to charge up and he lunges forward towards the atrium, however several Ethereals jump him. He gracefully fights them off, however in the moments he was fighting them, the power in the building finally gave out, plunging the whole building in darkness. I watch in horror as the partition begins to close. I hear a snarl come out of Lycaon as he doubles his efforts. Unfortunately, just as he gets to the atrium, the partition completely closes.

He stops himself, a quiet growl coming from him as he grimaces, but he quickly collects himself, "we're a step too late, I'm afraid. The partition has completely closed."

Great. Now what?