#she's even got haptics.

[sukimas]

in comparison to yakumo ran, who is a reengineering of computers from first principles, yakumo aka is written to emulate the features of a computer from merry's future. that is to say, she functions smoothly and beautifully most of the time but breaks catastrophically without the slightest warning. she's kind of stupid because most of her features are limited to only being used in original manufacturer admin mode. and of course she has state-of-the-art touch functionality.

[faebled-stories]

"We Met Online"

Kinkvember Day 1: Virtual Reality

LOONA/ARTMS Jeon Heejin x Male reader

(Happy Belated Halloween)

8.6k words

Heejin was exhausted after another grueling day packed with rehearsals, interviews, and photoshoots. The bright lights and relentless schedules of her life as an idol often overshadowed the excitement and passion she once felt for her craft. While the glitz and glamor brought rewards, they also came with the suffocating weight of expectation—the never-ending demand for perfection. After yet another long day navigating the pressures of fame, she craved an escape, something to take her mind off the incessant hustle for just a moment.

As she entered the shared apartment she called home with her fellow ARTMS members, she was greeted by the unexpected sight of Jinsoul lounging on the couch. A mischievous smile danced across her face, instantly piquing Heejin's interest.

“Hey, Heejin!” Jinsoul called out, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Got something for you.”

Heejin raised an inquisitive eyebrow, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. Jinsoul reached behind the couch and produced a sleek black box prominently displaying a logo that sent a thrill of recognition through Heejin—Infinity. This was the VR game that had taken the gaming world by storm, promising an immersive realm where players could interact and experience life in a way that felt startlingly real.

"Before you say anything, check this out!" Jinsoul exclaimed, as she effortlessly revealed a second item—a thin, skin-tight suit that looked like it belonged in a futuristic sci-fi film. The suit shimmered slightly under the apartment's fluorescent lights, its smooth, almost weightless fabric captivating Heejin's attention.

“What... is that?” Heejin asked, hesitantly taking the suit from Jinsoul’s hands. The fabric felt cool against her fingertips, almost alive with potential.

“This,” Jinsoul said, her smile widening, “is what makes the experience really immersive. It’s a haptic feedback suit. You wear this while playing, and it makes you feel everything from touches to sensations—like you’re actually there. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

Heejin eyed the suit with a mix of intrigue and apprehension. The thought of feeling things in a game was both thrilling and slightly unnerving. Yet, given the chaotic demands of her life, the idea of escaping reality, even for just a little while, was immensely tempting.

“Alright,” Heejin finally said, a small smile breaking through her exhaustion. “I’ll give it a try.”

After quickly changing into the snug suit—its fabric wrapping around her like a second skin—Heejin donned the Infinity VR headset. As she activated it, the familiar world of her daily routine melted away, replaced by a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors and enchanting scenery in the expansive landscape of the game.

Heejin found herself standing in the midst of a bustling virtual marketplace, where avatars of all shapes and sizes interacted with one another amid floating islands, glowing rivers, and a mesmerizing starry sky. The air felt cool and invigorating, a crispness that felt astoundingly real, and the sensation of her feet grounding her on the cobblestone path added to the illusion of reality.

As she moved about, Heejin looked down at her customized avatar: Noxelia. She had spent hours meticulously designing her digital persona, pouring all her aspirations and hidden desires into this character. Noxelia was tall and graceful, exuding an air of power with every gesture. Her long silver-black hair flowed behind her like silk, cascading elegantly down her back, while her armor shimmered with a radiant violet hue, reflecting the light of the ethereal marketplace. Noxelia embodied everything Heejin wanted to be—strong, confident, and untouchable.

With each step, Heejin felt a sense of liberation. In this virtual world, the constraints and expectations tied to her real-life identity faded away. No longer did she have to strive for perfection or balance the weight of public scrutiny; in this realm, she could be anyone she wished to be. Breathing in the imaginary scents of street food and experiencing the chatter of NPCs and other players brought her an unfamiliar sense of joy.

As Heejin wandered the vibrant marketplace, the colors and sounds pulsed with life, pulling her deeper into this virtual world. Stalls adorned with shimmering goods and bustling avatars created an electric atmosphere. But it wasn’t long before her keen eye was caught by the figure of another player standing nearby—a default knight clad in simple silver armor, with a basic sword slung at his side. What made him stand out were the tiny sparkles that glimmered across his chest plate, giving him an unexpectedly charming, magical quality amidst the melee of customizations.

Heejin felt a playful smile spread across her face as she looked at her meticulously designed avatar, Noxelia, which was a beacon of creativity and power. The contrast was amusing, and she felt a spark of mischief surge within her. With a lighthearted stride, she approached the knight.

“Nice knight outfit!” Heejin teases, her voice playful as she leans casually against a nearby stall. “Going for the ‘chivalry isn’t dead’ look?”

The default knight, turn with a grin. “What can I say? I’m a classic.” Your tone is lighthearted, your eyes dancing with humor.

“Classic, huh? While that’s admirable, wouldn’t it be more fun to have something original like mine?” She gestures to her intricately designed armor, the brilliant colors and detailed patterns shimmering in the marketplace light.

You chuckle, raising your hands in mock surrender. “You’re not wrong. I didn’t spend nearly as much time as some people on the customization screen.” There’s a hint of self-deprecation in your voice, your friendly expression encouraging her boldness.

With a flick of her hair, Heejin takes pride in her work. “I customized it all myself. Took hours, but every second was worth it. It feels so much more... me. But hey, at least you have those shiny sparkles.” She flashes you an encouraging smile, appreciating the effort you put in, however minimal it may seem.

You glance down at your armor, a hint of embarrassment creeping onto your face but quickly replaced with admiration for her dedication. “It’s impressive,” you admit. “But the sparkles? Blame my sister for those. She thought the default knight was too boring and convinced me to give it a touch of flair.”

Heejin’s grin widens at your candidness. “Your sister’s got good taste! At least someone in your family does.” She chuckles, the playful banter putting you both at ease.

And just like that, an easy connection forms between you two, filled with laughter and light-hearted teasing. Amidst the bustling marketplace, your camaraderie begins to bloom, reminding Heejin that sometimes, it’s not just the detailed armor or flashy weapons that make a game more enjoyable, but the spontaneous conversations with fellow players that create memories worth cherishing.

Over the next few weeks, you and Heejin forge a routine of playing together regularly. You become a familiar duo, exploring the vastness of Infinity, navigating through intricate puzzles, unveiling hidden treasures in new zones, and playfully competing in exhilarating mini-games. Amidst the thrill and occasional heated competition, Heejin finds herself drawn to your relaxed demeanor. Your ability to elicit laughter, even in the most intense gaming moments, creates a warmth that infuses your bond with joy and light-heartedness.

One serene evening, you and Heejin find yourselves perched on Cloud Summit—a breathtaking floating isle that seems to reach for the heavens. The ambiance is nothing short of magical; the sky is painted in soft pastels, with delicate hues merging into one another, while the clouds below shimmer as if kissed by a gentle light. For Heejin, Cloud Summit quickly becomes her retreat, a serene hideaway to escape the weight of reality pressing down.

“You’re really good at this,” you say, joining her on a pixelated bench overlooking the horizon. Your avatar exudes a relaxed charm as you rest beside her, your gaze sweeping over the breathtaking scenery. “You always seem… focused.”

A gentle smile graces Heejin’s face as she takes in the view, the colors swirling like cotton candy in the vast canvas above. “That’s why I like it here,” she replies thoughtfully, her voice barely a whisper against the tranquility of the surroundings. “It’s the only place I can relax, you know?”

Curiosity flickers in your eyes as you turn to face her. “What do you mean?” you ask, genuinely interested.

Heejin takes a deep breath, letting the virtual winds carry away some of the weight she feels. “In real life,” she starts, her voice softening amidst the cloud-dappled sky, “I have this job. People expect a lot from me, and it’s exhausting. But here, in this world, I can just… be.”

Your expression shifts as the gravity of her words sinks in. You stay quiet, contemplating her vulnerability. “I get that,” you finally say. “I have my own responsibilities too. My sister... she looks up to me like I’m her knight in shining armor, but some days, it’s hard to live up to that. I feel like I’m letting her down”

It’s in that shared silence that something profound transpires. Heejin feels a deep, abiding sense of understanding passing between you, a connection that feels both immediate and enduring. Despite having never met in the physical realm, there’s an unspoken acknowledgment that pierces through the boundaries of your virtual existence.

As you linger in your conversation, Heejin finds comfort in the proximity of your avatar. Without even realizing it, you subtly shift closer, your digital shoulders brushing against each other. The feedback from her suit sends a gentle pulse through her body, etching your presence into her consciousness. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels like the quiet embrace of understanding she has longed for.

She hesitates, then feels a pull to lean into you, the act an instinctual response to the warmth radiating from your connection. “Thanks,” she murmurs, her voice barely rising above the gentle breeze. "For being here."

“For what?” you ask, your tone infused with warmth and sincerity.

“For just being here, talking to me,” she repeats, her heart swelling with gratitude.

Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, your avatars move closer together. In a spontaneous moment of bravery, you share your first virtual hug. At first, it feels a little awkward—two armored figures caught in a pixelated embrace—but through your haptic suits, warmth envelops you both, it’s a soft pressure that feels surprisingly intimate. Heejin could almost forget you could be separated by miles of reality.

Time seems to suspend as you hold onto each other. The virtual hug is simple, yet it’s charged with an energy that resonates in both your avatars and hearts. It transcends the playful banter of your previous interactions, hinting at a deeper connection emerging from the pixels.

-----

Though you never shared your real names, you and Heejin delved deeper into the recesses of each other’s lives, sharing small anecdotes and secrets that painted a vivid picture of the individuals behind your avatars. For Heejin, this was a sanctuary—a realm where she could shed the polished facade of stardom and embrace her authentic self, even under the veil of anonymity.

Your connection strengthened, and the game that once served as a mere pastime began to morph into something more profound. The boundaries of your virtual world started to blur, leading you both to a secluded enclave known as the Starlight Grove. Here, the luminescent trees and the soothing whispers of the river created an ambiance of tranquility and intimacy.

It was in this digital haven that you and Heejin experienced a shift in your relationship. As you stood beside the virtual waters, your avatars close enough to touch, a palpable tension filled the air. The haptic feedback suits you wore, designed to enhance the gaming experience, became conduits for a new kind of interaction—one that felt undeniably more real.

When you reached out and touched Heejin’s avatar, the suit sprang to life, simulating the warmth and pressure of a real human touch. The sensation was so convincing that it took her breath away. “I'll never get use to how real it feels.” she murmured, her voice tinged with surprise and delight.

Your touch was exploratory, your hand gliding down Heejin’s arm as if mapping out uncharted territory. Each pulse of sensation resonated like a soft echo, sending shivers through her body, igniting her senses. The technology bridging your virtual and physical realities had transcended mere gadgetry; it had become an extension of your very beings, allowing you to experience each other in ways you had never imagined possible within a game. Every pulse was a whisper, every sensation a promise, as you navigated this new realm of connection.

As your hand ventured lower, tracing the curve of her waist, the feedback became more intense. Heejin found herself succumbing to the illusion, her body arching toward your avatar, seeking more of the electric sensation that coursed through her with each simulated caress.

The intimacy of the moment escalated as your fingers moved with deliberate gentleness, crossing into more private territories. Heejin’s gasp echoed through the serene grove as her body responded to the suit’s accurate mapping of your touch. “Keep going, I can feel you... everywhere,” she confessed, her voice quivering with the weight of her vulnerability.

Your response was silent but spoke volumes through your actions. Your other hand found its way to her side, resting just beneath her chest. The new technology made the warmth of your touch tangible, each slow, intimate movement leaving Heejin breathless and yearning for more.

As the intensity of your virtual encounter grew, Heejin’s breaths became short and ragged. The sensors were so precise that every touch from you felt like a real caress, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume her completely. Her body trembled, succumbing to the waves of pleasure that radiated from your every touch.

“Noxelia…” you murmured, your voice a low whisper that wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

“More... I want more.” she whimpered, her voice a mere whisper carried away by the digital wind.

Your fingers pressed into her with more insistence, the suit amplifying each sensation until Heejin felt as though she were floating, her body alight with an intensity that was almost too much to bear. The suit, once just a piece of gaming equipment, had become an instrument of unparalleled pleasure, each pulse and vibration resonating with her escalating desire.

Her breath caught as your virtual hands discovered a particularly sensitive spot between her legs. She hadn’t even realized that there were sensors in every nook of her pants, but the discovery heightened her awareness, causing her to arch against the unseen touch. Whimpers escaped her lips, growing more insistent, each sound a vibrato of desire.

Heejin’s cries began as a soft whimper, a prelude to the crescendo building within her. As the sensations intensified, her voice rose in pitch, becoming a series of breathy gasps punctuating the air. Each exhale carried a piece of her surrender, a testament to the pleasure that coursed through her veins.

“Please…” she breathed, the words becoming a mantra on her lips, a central thread amidst the chaos of her swirling thoughts.

As the tension built to its peak, Heejin’s cries intensified, creating a symphony of raw ecstasy. Each sound she made was a testament to the unbridled passion that enveloped her, growing louder and more urgent as the waves of pleasure coursed through her body. The air between them was charged, vibrating with the intensity of shared desire.

Her voice broke into a series of staccato moans, each one echoing the rhythm of her escalating heartbeat. Each sound was a note, weaving a melody that seemed to pulse in harmony with the flickering light of the Starlight Grove.

“Yes! Right there, don’t stop…” she panted, each syllable a fervent plea that resonated deep within the heart of their shared moment. Her body trembled, taut as a bowstring, as she teetered on the edge of rapture.

“I wouldn’t dream of it…” you replied, your tone carrying a seductive promise that pushed her further. The tension built, a fusion of will and sensation, until it snapped with breathtaking force.

The climax surged through her, a tidal wave that left her breathless and shattered, yet whole in a way only this moment could achieve. The cries that burst from her were pure and unrestrained, blending seamlessly with the ambient hum of the grove around them. Every muscle in her body seemed to pulse with the rhythm of her release, and for a moment, the world contracted to just the two of them and the echo of her bliss.

As the aftershocks rippled through her, her cries softened, subsiding into a contented hum that mirrored the tranquil ambiance of the Starlight Grove. Her breath evened out, and the only sounds left were the gentle rustle of the virtual foliage and the soft, satisfied sighs that escaped her swollen lips.

In the aftermath, as your avatars stood together in the soft glow of the luminescent garden, your heart raced, and a lingering warmth hummed through your body, a reminder of the intimacy you’d just shared. The suit, now a silent witness to the moment, lay against your skin—a gentle yet tangible link between your digital and physical worlds.

Slowly, Heejin’s body retreated, though the ghost of her touch lingered, a phantom presence you could still feel. As you looked around, the reality of what had just transpired settled in. Together, you had crossed a threshold, exploring depths of human connection in a place where the physical and the virtual felt inseparable.

The Starlight Grove, once just a scenic spot in the game, had transformed into a testament to your bond—a place where you and Heejin discovered that the heart’s capacity for connection knows no bounds, and that even within the confines of a digital world, human experiences can reach new heights of emotion and sensation.

"That was..." your voice broke the silence, filled with wonder and uncertainty. "More than I expected." The virtual space, typically a playground for fantasy and escapism, had transformed into a stage for a deeply human connection.

Heejin nodded, her breath still shaky. "Yeah... me too." The weight of what had just happened lingered, a tangible presence heavy with the knowledge that you had crossed a line neither of you anticipated.

The sensations, the connection—it had felt more real than either of you imagined possible. A game designed to simulate the thrill of adventure and camaraderie had instead become a conduit for an emotional exchange that left you both reeling. The digital environment, with its vivid landscapes and immersive experiences, had facilitated a bond that transcended pixels and code.

You laughed awkwardly, feeling uncertain of what to say next. "Uh, Noxelia, maybe I should... log off… I have a few things to take care of." The conversation, though taking place in a space where avatars are meant to be invincible, had touched something raw and vulnerable. Heejin gave a small, nervous smile, acknowledging the unspoken agreement. "Yeah... I think that’s a good idea. Same here."

With one final look, a gaze that felt as though it could pierce through the screen, you both logged off, letting the virtual world fade away. But as your screen went dark, the sound of Heejin's cries and pleas lingered, hanging in the silence long after the game had ended. The digital echo of your interaction replayed in your mind, a reminder of the depth and intensity that even online worlds could harbor.

You sat in your own apartment, the VR headset resting heavily on your lap. Like a film on replay, each moment shared between you two replayed in your mind. It felt all too tangible—too vivid. You could still feel the nuances of your presence, the harmony of your connection. This wasn’t just a game anymore; it was an experience, intimate and unforgettable. The events of the night lingered, leaving you to question what might come next.

Meanwhile, across the city, Heejin sat in the quiet of her room, yanking the VR headset off and sinking into silence as she stared blankly at the dormant screen. A light layer of sweat covered her body, her heart still pounding in her chest, the residual sensations from the immersive experience holding on like a delicate trace. Tentatively, she placed a hand between her legs, feeling the warmth and dampness that confirmed the intensity of her climax. The touch grounded her, pulling her back from the edge of the surreal and into the present.

The suit, now just fabric against her skin, had moments before been a bridge merging the virtual with the visceral. It had allowed her to feel emotions and sensations she hadn’t anticipated, leaving her both disoriented and exhilarated.

Running a hand through her hair, she struggled to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. Heejin, once just another player in the game, was now someone who had reached beyond the pixels, tethered by a connection that had transcended the screen.

Yet, as you sat in the stillness, you grappled with the implications of what had unfolded. Together, you’d crossed a boundary separating virtual interaction from emotional reality. What did this mean for your relationship? The urge to reach out lingered, but so did uncertainty. How could you transition from screen to reality, from alias to name, from a fantasy world to a genuine connection?

In the quiet contemplation, both you and Heejin found yourselves at a crossroads, reflecting on the connection fostered in a realm where sensations collided with emotions. The lines between the virtual and the real had blurred, leaving you both wondering if this bond could grow beyond the confines of the digital universe.

-----

For the past two weeks, the digital landscape of Infinity remained devoid of activity from its two most notable players: you and Heejin. The electric encounter had left an indelible mark on both of you, each hesitant to return to the game. Every time Heejin considered logging back in, memories flooded her mind—the warmth of your touch, the realism of your interactions, enhanced by the haptic suits. It was an experience both exhilarating and unsettling, one that made her heart race and left her feeling unsure.

You, too, were haunted by that night. The human mind intermingles confusion with excitement, embarrassment with desire. Each attempt to push the memory aside only amplified the awkwardness you felt at the thought of seeing her avatar again. What could you say? How could you interact as you had before?

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm hues across your apartment, you sat at the kitchen table, exhaustion settling after a long day at work. During this quiet moment, your younger sister, Nari, burst into the room like a whirlwind, her princess costume twirling around her as she moved. You couldn’t help but smile; she’d been preparing her Halloween outfit for weeks.

“Oppa, did you get the tickets?” she asked eagerly, bouncing into the chair beside you.

Your heart sank. “Nari… I don’t know if I can get the tickets. They’re really expensive,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair as the familiar weight of financial stress settled over you.

Nari’s bright expression faltered, confusion replacing her excitement. “But you promised we’d go to the ARTMS Halloween Event! I want to see all the girls—they’re so cool! I’ve been practicing their dances for months!” Her wide eyes sparkled with innocent hope, and the ache in your heart grew.

“I know, Nari,” you said softly, trying to ease the blow. “But things are a little tough right now. We might not be able to go.”

Her face fell, and the corners of her mouth drooped in disappointment. She didn’t understand why her oppa couldn’t make this happen—he always made things happen. “Please, oppa?” she pleaded, her eyes glistening. “I really want to go! It’s going to be the best thing ever! Please? I’ll be so good, and I won’t ask for anything else! Just this, I promise!”

You looked into her hopeful eyes, feeling a tight knot form in your chest. Nari didn’t know the sacrifices you made daily to ensure she had what she needed, and those little joys that brightened her world. The thought of disappointing her was unbearable. In that moment, she was your entire world, her happiness was everything.

You felt the crushing weight of financial strain as it collided with your overwhelming love for your sister. “Alright,” you whispered, relenting, though you weren’t sure how you’d make it work. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Nari’s face lit up instantly. She leapt forward, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. “Thank you, oppa! You’re the best! I can’t wait! We can match our costumes, and it’ll be perfect!”

Despite the worry gnawing at you, her joy was infectious, a reminder that despite life’s hardships, moments like these made everything worthwhile. “Yeah,” you murmured, softening under her embrace. “I’ll make sure we go.”

As you held Nari close, a spark of determination ignited. No matter the obstacles ahead, you would find a way to make this happen. Her happiness was worth everything, and you’d do whatever it took to make her dreams a reality.

-----

On a balmy evening, you and your sister, Nari, stepped into the buzz of excitement that enveloped the venue. The air was thick with anticipation as fans clad in vibrant costumes filled the space, their laughter and chatter mingling with the distant sound of music. You took a deep breath, adjusting the metallic sheen of your knight costume that you had donned to match Nari's enchanting princess outfit. However, beneath the gleaming armor, a sense of unease stirred within you. Your thoughts spiraled back to Noxelia, the girl who had ignited your heart during your late-night gaming sessions. Did she think of you the way you thought of her?

The crowd erupted into cheers as ARTMS finally took the stage, the deafening roar sweeping through the venue like a wave. Your heart nearly stopped, your breath catching in your throat the moment your eyes locked onto one of the performers. It was her—dressed in a costume that was an exact replica of Noxelia, the avatar that your companion had meticulously created. She stood front and center, illuminated by the spotlight, her presence magnetic, drawing every gaze toward her. The vibrant colors of her outfit were vivid, each intricate detail expertly crafted, a perfect mirror of everything you adored about the design and the mysterious girl who played it.

A knot formed in your chest as a startling realization hit you like a tidal wave: the girl who had been your cherished companion in the virtual world, your confidante and battle partner, was standing before you, not just as Noxelia, but as a famous idol beloved by thousands. The revelation sent your thoughts spiraling. How could the two worlds—your quiet, private connection with Noxelia and the glitzy, public persona of this star—exist in harmony? What could you, an ordinary guy, possibly offer her when she was surrounded by adoration, fame, and people who hung on her every word? The divide between you felt impossibly vast.

Moments after the electrifying performance, Nari grabbed your hand, her excitement contagious as you hurried toward the fan meet. Her eyes sparkled, her face glowing with joy as she practically bounced with each step, brimming with anticipation to meet her idols. But your mind was a storm of anxious thoughts, the weight of the revelation sinking in. You could hardly hear Nari’s enthusiastic chatter over the sound of your racing heartbeat. Each step toward the meet-and-greet felt heavier, the distance between you shrinking yet your internal turmoil growing. You were walking toward the girl who had been the source of so much of your happiness, but also the cause of your most nagging insecurities. What would she think of you when you finally stood face-to-face? Would she even piece the puzzle together? The reality of your encounter loomed, and your thoughts buzzed in a relentless loop as you approached her, the line shortening with every breath.

“Heejin-unnie! Don’t tell the others, but you’re my favorite!” Nari exclaimed as you reached the front of the line, her eyes sparkling with pure admiration. “I’ve been practicing your dances!”

Heejin’s smile widened, warmth radiating from her as she leaned forward to respond. “Thank you so much for coming! I’m honored to be in the presence of royalty, my princess.” The moment felt surreal, watching your sister bask in the glow of her idol’s attention.

With excitement bubbling over, Nari gestured to herself and then pointed proudly at you. “I’m Nari, and this is Y/N oppa! He’s my favorite person in the whole world.” She leaned in closer to Heejin, whispering conspiratorially but loud enough for you to hear. “You take that spot when he ignores me to play that game with the goggles and tights.”

Your stomach twisted, a knot forming as heat flushed your cheeks. You glanced nervously at Heejin, silently praying she wouldn’t pick up on the meaning behind Nari’s innocent words. For a brief moment, Heejin’s smile faltered, and her brows knitted as she exchanged glances between you and your sister, a hint of confusion in her expressive eyes.

“Goggles and tights?” Heejin echoed, her voice playful yet laced with curiosity.

Nari nodded enthusiastically, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside you. “Yeah! He plays it all the time. I even helped him make his character. Sometimes I sneak into his room because he looks so funny wearing all the gear.” She giggled, eyes bright with mischief.

Your face turned beet red; the spotlight of embarrassment was nearly unbearable. Heejin's expression shifted slightly, her skepticism apparent, but she quickly masked it with her trademark smile. Just as you thought you might escape unscathed, Nari tugged on your arm, her excitement palpable.

“Oppa! Show Heejin-unnie the thing!” Nari insisted, her words bubbling over with excitement.

You hesitated for a moment, knowing that revealing this secret could invite scrutiny you weren’t prepared to face. Still, your sister’s eager eyes left you little choice. With a reluctant sigh, you parted the front of your cape, revealing the array of sparkles that Nari had enthusiastically added to your knight costume. The shimmering details mirrored the intricate designs of your avatar’s armor in the game that had brought you and Heejin together.

Heejin’s eyes widened, flickering down to the sparkles as surprise shifted to realization. Her expression changed subtly—her lips parted slightly, and her brow arched as though a light had just switched on. The puzzle pieces clicked into place, and you felt the weight of her understanding settle over you.

No words were exchanged in that charged moment, yet the unspoken acknowledgment hung between you like a fragile thread. Heejin kept her composure, a soft smile curving her lips as Nari continued to chatter happily about her favorite dances. But the atmosphere had changed, carrying a subtle current that both excited and unsettled you.

As Nari giddily thanked Heejin, you felt a shift in your dynamic with the idol. You caught Heejin’s gaze lingering as she finished signing a poster for your sister, a silent echo of the connection you had shared in the game. That bond was now tangled with the reality of her stardom and your ordinary life. Would you remain just another player in her world, or had you crossed into something more significant? With a quiet sigh of relief and uncertainty, you stepped aside, wondering how this new chapter would unfold.

Unbeknownst to you, Heejin’s mind was a storm of thoughts, she began formulating a plan in her head while connecting the dots between your shared moments in the virtual world and the reality before her. The quiet understanding that had passed between you left her intrigued and curious about the path ahead.

-----

As you and Nari were about to leave the venue, one of the staff members approached you with a smile.

“Excuse me, sir? Heejin-ssi wanted to know if you and your sister would like to come backstage for a private meet-and-greet,” the staff member said politely.

Nari’s eyes lit up with pure joy, her excitement overflowing. “Really?! Oppa! We get to meet them again!”

Caught off guard, you glanced at the staff member, then at Nari, who was practically jumping with excitement. “Uh... sure,” you said hesitantly, feeling your nerves spike. You weren’t sure why Heejin wanted to see you both again, but Nari’s happiness was impossible to deny.

As you and Nari followed the staff member backstage, her excitement was palpable. She couldn’t stop bouncing on her feet, her little princess crown slightly askew as she held your hand tightly. You were led into a private room where the rest of the ARTMS members were hanging out after the event, casually chatting and relaxing in their costumes.

When you entered, the girls looked up, clearly surprised to see two new faces.

“Who’s this?” Jinsoul asked, her brow raised in curiosity as she eyed you and Nari.

Kim Lip, lounging on a couch, tilted her head. “Did we invite guests?” she asked, glancing at Heejin, who stood just behind you and Nari.

Nari, oblivious to the confusion, immediately ran up to the group, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Unnie, we met earlier today, and Heejin unnie brought us back” she announced.

The girls exchanged amused glances at Nari’s enthusiasm, though they were clearly still puzzled by the situation.

Heejin smiled warmly at Nari, then looked at her members. “Sorry for the surprise, but... I need to talk to my friend about something privately. Could you all keep an eye on Nari for a few minutes?”

At first, the girls seemed a bit unsure, but the moment they looked at Nari—who was grinning up at them with wide, eager eyes—they couldn’t resist.

“Oh, of course” Choerry said, kneeling down to Nari’s level. “We’ll have so much fun, won’t we, Nari?”

Nari clapped her hands excitedly. “Yay! I get to hang out with all the pretty unnies!”

Heejin smiled gratefully, her heart warmed by how quickly the girls took to Nari. But as she turned to you, her expression shifted. There was a quiet intensity in her eyes, an unspoken tension simmering just beneath the surface.

“Let’s go,” Heejin said softly, her voice steady yet charged with something more.

Sensing the shift in the air, you nodded and opened the door for her. You followed her into a quieter, smaller room down the hallway. As you closed the door behind you, a thick silence settled over the space. Neither of you spoke for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you.

Turning back to face her, you asked, “So, Noxelia, your real name is Heejin?”

Before you could finish your sentence, Heejin moved. In an instant, she crossed the small distance between you and threw herself into your arms, cutting you off with a fierce, passionate kiss. Her lips met yours with a hunger that had been building for weeks, a need restrained by the boundaries of the game but now unleashed without limits. The sensation of her body pressed against yours was overwhelming, and for a moment, your mind went blank as you lost yourself in the kiss.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her closer as you deepened the kiss, matching her intensity. The kiss was raw, filled with all the pent-up emotions you hadn’t been able to express in Infinity. The passion, the longing—it all came crashing down in this moment, unrestrained and real in a way the game could never allow.

Heejin’s hands slid up your chest, trying to hold on to your costume as if anchoring herself to you. It was so different from the touches you had shared in the virtual world—this was real, tangible, electric. You could feel her heartbeat through her body, her breath warm against your skin as you kissed like you were making up for all the time you had held back.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless, your forehead rested against hers, your breathing heavy in the quiet room.

“That’s... what we couldn’t do in the game,” Heejin whispered, her voice barely above a breathless laugh.

You chuckled softly, still holding her close, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah. We couldn’t.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies still pressed together, savoring the closeness. Everything you hadn’t been able to express in the game—the connection you had built, the tension that had grown between you—was finally being released.

As Heejin’s eyes fluttered open, meeting your gaze, there was something in them now that wasn’t just desire—it was understanding, a shared recognition of what you had both been feeling all along. The virtual world had been a safe space for you to explore your emotions, but this... this was real, raw, and far beyond anything you could have experienced in Infinity.

Heejin’s fingers slid from your chest to the collar of your costume, gently tugging at it. Her eyes remained locked on yours, but there was a new determination in them. Slowly, she began unfastening your knight’s armor, peeling it away as if removing the final barrier separating you from reality. The metaphor wasn’t lost on either of you—it was as though you were stripping away the layers of your avatars, your game personas, to reveal the people you truly were underneath.

You felt your breath catch as her fingers worked their way down, exposing more of your costume piece by piece. The air around you seemed to thicken, charged with the tension that had been building for so long. Every piece of armor that came undone felt like peeling back another layer of the virtual world you had once hidden behind.

Heejin’s hands moved deliberately, her touch light but charged with anticipation as she pushed the rest of your costume off, letting it fall to the floor. Your skin tingled where her hands had been, and for a moment, you just stood there, drinking each other in. Without the game between you, every movement felt more intense, more intimate.

Your hands moved instinctively, reaching for the violet armor. Your fingers brushed against the painted foam as you began lifting it, and she raised her arms to help you remove it. As the material slipped over her head and joined your costume on the floor, your eyes met again, and the reality of the moment hit you both. This wasn’t a fantasy anymore—it was real.

The tension between you crackled as your hands began to explore one another’s bodies, mapping out the skin that was previously an avatar. Each touch was deliberate, each caress more intimate than anything you had shared in Infinity. It was as if you were finally free to feel everything you had only imagined in the game.

Heejin’s breath hitched as your hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer. She could feel the heat of your skin against hers, the rhythm of your heartbeat matching her own. It was different from the game—the sensations were more raw, more intense. Every inch of her body was alive with anticipation.

Slowly, your hands moved to her back, unclasping the layer of fabric that separated you. As her undergarments fell away, Heejin leaned into you, her lips finding you again. The kiss was slower this time, more deliberate, as you savored the feeling of being together without the virtual barrier.

“This...” Heejin whispered between kisses, her voice soft but filled with meaning. “This is what we were missing.”

Your hands roamed her body, your touch sending shivers down her spine. “Yeah,” you murmured, your voice low and breathless. “We don’t have to hold back anymore.”

The world outside faded away, leaving only you and Heejin, wrapped in a warmth that felt both profound and familiar. Every touch, every kiss held an unspoken promise, slowly dismantling the barriers of your virtual past and grounding you in the undeniable reality of this moment.

You pulled her close, sinking gently onto the soft floor, her breaths mingling with yours as the heat between you intensified. Here, in this quiet sanctuary, there was no pretense—just two people, stripped of all facades, exposed and vulnerable in the most beautiful way. This was a release of everything you’d been holding back, a connection neither of you could deny any longer.

Your lips brushed over her neck, coaxing a soft gasp from Heejin as her hands tightened around you, as if to steady herself in the vivid reality of the moment. Every kiss was a new discovery, an exploration of the person you had known deeply but were now feeling in a way you’d only dreamed of. Your hands drifted slowly down her body, savoring the warmth and softness of her skin. Heejin’s breath grew heavier, her body arching into you with each touch.

Heejin’s fingers wove into your hair, pulling you into a kiss that was both tender and charged with a deep, unspoken need. Her lips moved over yours with a mix of softness and intensity, as if savoring every moment of closeness. When her kisses traveled to your neck, you felt a warmth bloom between you, a gentle urgency in every touch that deepened the connection you both shared.

As a response, you let your lips trail down her body, leaving soft kisses along her chest and midriff. Her skin was warm and inviting beneath your lips, each kiss a way of conveying everything you felt. You continued slowly, savoring each inch, feeling her body respond to your touch.

When you reached her folds, you lingered, savoring the warmth of her body as you moved closer, your breath warm against her skin. Her taste was subtle and intoxicating, a hint of sweetness that seemed to draw you further into the intimacy, deepening your own arousal. The soft, responsive way her body moved beneath your touch only heightened your senses, each gentle shiver urging you onward as you let your kisses and touch communicate everything words couldn’t express.

A soft moan escaped Heejin’s lips, her fingers tightening in your hair as her breath quickened. Her sounds were quiet at first, then grew as she arched into you, each moan revealing her pleasure, her body attuned to every movement. Her voice, soft yet unmistakably filled with longing, filled the room, wrapping around you, encouraging you, drawing you closer.

Every movement was careful, deliberate, as you lost yourself in the closeness, the way her body responded to your touch. Her taste lingered on your lips, her scent surrounding you, blending with the warmth that continued to build between you, heightening the intensity with each passing second. Heejin’s soft moans became a melody, matching the rhythm of your shared connection, pulling you deeper into the moment.

In this timeless moment, there were no avatars, no screens—just the two of you, fully present, experiencing the depth of your bond in a way that was breathtaking and real. The intensity of your shared desire blended seamlessly with the vulnerability you both offered, crafting a connection that was as unforgettable as it was profound.

Heejin's eyes fluttered open, locking with yours as you positioned yourself between her parted thighs. Her pulse quickened, her body trembling with anticipation. "I want you," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need you."

Your gaze softened, your thumb gently brushing away the tear that had escaped down her cheek. "I'm here," you murmured, your lips ghosting over hers. "I'll always be here for you, Heejin."

With a gentle thrust of your hips, you entered her, your eyes never leaving hers as you began to move. Heejin's fingers dug into your shoulders, her nails leaving faint crescent-shaped marks on your skin. A soft moan slipped past her lips as you filled her completely, the sensation unlike anything she had ever known.

You moved together, your bodies rocking in a slow, sensual rhythm. Your lips found the sensitive spot beneath her ear, your teeth grazing the delicate skin as you kissed and nipped along her neck. Heejin's hips lifted to meet yours, her body arching into your touch like a bow drawn taut.

The coil of pleasure within her tightened with each thrust, each caress of your hands on her skin. Your breath grew ragged against her ear, your movements becoming more urgent as you chased your shared release. Heejin could feel her own climax building, the heat within her threatening to consume her entire being.

"I'm close," you rasped, your voice strained with the effort to hold back. "Heejin, tell me when you're ready. I want to feel you come undone beneath me."

Heejin's nails raked down your back, urging you on as she teetered on the brink of ecstasy. "Dont stop" she gasped, her head falling back against the pillow. "I'm so close. Please, don't stop."

Your hips snapped forward, your thrusts becoming harder, faster as you felt Heejin's body begin to tighten around you. You covered her lips with yours, swallowing her cries of pleasure as her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Heejin's body trembled and shook with pleasure as she reached her peak, her fingers digging into your back as she held onto you for dear life. Her breath hitched as she cried out, her pussy clenching and spasming around your length as she came undone beneath you.

The sensation of Heejin's climax enveloped you, utterly overwhelming as you found yourself beyond the point of restraint. With a final, profound plunge, you reached the pinnacle of your own pleasure. As you withdrew, your essence flowed forth, cascading across her folds, trailing up her torso to her stomach, and finally gracing her breasts with a warm, intimate embrace.

Your body shuddered as you caught your breath, your hips still jerking slightly as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. You pressed your forehead against hers, your heavy breathing syncing up as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together.

The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breaths and the lingering scent of your lovemaking. Your heart raced in your chest as you looked into Heejin's eyes, seeing the same intensity and passion reflected back at you.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips as you both came down from your high. Pulling her close, you held her tightly against you as you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared climax. It was a moment you knew you would never forget.

You remained intertwined, your bodies still joined, hearts beating in sync as you slowly drifted back down to earth. Your hand sought out Heejin’s, fingers intertwining as you brushed a sweat-dampened strand of hair from her face.

Heejin rested her head against your chest, tracing gentle circles on your skin with her fingers as you both caught your breath. There was a sense of calm between you now, a peaceful silence that spoke volumes about what you had just shared.

You stroked her hair softly, your heart still pounding in your chest, but there was a new sense of ease in how you held each other. You had peeled away all the layers of your virtual world and stepped fully into reality, facing the rawness of your feelings without hesitation.

“This,” Heejin whispered, her voice soft yet filled with meaning. “This is more than I ever imagined.”

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah,” you agreed, your voice low and tender. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

As the soft light of the room dimmed around you, the weight of your shared reality settled in, more tangible than any moment you had experienced in the game. There were no barriers left—no pixels, no layers of code, just your hearts and bodies, fully exposed to one another.

You pressed another soft kiss to Heejin’s forehead, the warmth between you undeniable. As you lay there, content in each other's presence, reality began to creep back in. You had crossed the boundary from virtual to real, and now, there was no turning back.

Heejin looked up at you, her eyes still bright with affection. "What happens now?" she asked, her voice quiet but filled with hope.

You smiled, brushing a thumb over her cheek. "I think," you began, your tone steady, "we make sure this becomes part of our real lives. Not just some moment, but something we build on. You and me."

Heejin’s heart swelled at your words, her hand gently squeezing yours. "I want that, too," she whispered, her smile reflecting yours.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you sat up, your body still warm and glistening from the closeness you’d shared. "We should probably get back," you murmured, glancing over at Heejin with a soft smile. "The girls are still with my sister."

Heejin chuckled, sitting up beside you and brushing her hair back. "Yeah, I’m sure they’ve been spoiling her."

You rose to your feet and offered her a hand, helping her up. "She’s pretty cute," you said with a grin, "so I can’t really blame them."

You both laughed, and for a moment, you held onto each other’s gaze. The quiet understanding between you felt like the beginning of something real—something you both wanted to explore.

You helped clean her up before gathering your costumes, and together, you slipped into your outfits. The air was filled with a relaxed ease as you each adjusted your armor, side by side, occasionally stealing glances that held all the warmth of the moment you’d just shared. Heejin adjusted the last piece of her costume with a final, satisfied pat, flashing you a smile that seemed to mirror your own.

Once ready, you exchanged a look that needed no words. This was a new chapter for you both, and you felt the unspoken excitement of stepping into it together.

Hand in hand, you made your way back to the dressing room. The moment you stepped inside, Nari’s delighted voice filled the air as she spotted you. She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by Heejin's fellow members, who were all laughing and doting on her, filling the room with lighthearted chatter.

As soon as Nari wrapped herself around your leg, her face lit up with excitement. "Oppa! Unnie! There you guys are!" she chirped, her eyes bright with joy. "We are having so much fun, I learned how to do the splits" She looked up at you, clearly not ready for the day to end.

Heejin grinned at the sight, her heart warming at how easily Nari had fit in with her members. You smiled down at your sister, and though you hated to interrupt her fun, you knew it was time to leave.

"Thats amazing, Nari, but we have to say goodbye to the girl now," you said gently but firmly.

Immediately, Nari’s face fell. "Nooo, I don’t wanna go!" she whined, her hold on your leg tightening. "Can’t we stay longer?"

You glanced at Heejin, who gave you an understanding look, her eyes soft with affection. You smiled, then knelt down to meet Nari’s eyes. "I’m sure we’ll see them again soon," you said, your tone reassuring. "Promise."

Nari pouted but eventually relented, giving all the members a quick hug goodbye before holding your hand.

As Heejin walked both of you towards the door, the members exchanged curious glances. The second the door clicked shut behind you, the room exploded with excited whispers. Haseul leaned forward, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Okay, spill. Who was that?"

The other girls eagerly chimed in, all buzzing with questions.

Heejin, still feeling the lingering warmth of your hand in hers, blushed slightly but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. She glanced at the door, already missing you, then looked back at her members, trying to play it cool.

"That was a friend," she said, laughing softly as she shrugged. "We met online."

[sweetcocopowder]

A Damsel in Distress - Paladin Danse x Nate / Male Sole Survivor

Synopsis: A distress signal comes over the Cambridge Police Station radio that has Danse racing out of there quicker than he can think.

Word Count: 3.1K

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Angst. Gore.

Notes: This is me dipping my toes into the fallout 4 universe. so give me some leeway, i wanted to challenge myself by writing this. enjoy :)

The crackling of the radio doesn’t grab the attention of the Paladin at first. His mind too focused on repairing a loose hinge in the right elbow of his power armour that had been bugging him for days. Whenever he’s out of the hulking metal, he always feels vulnerable. Not small per say or weak. A Paladin must know that they can handle themselves in and out of the armour. Yet he’s so use to wearing it almost twenty four hours a day that it’s become second nature within it.

The radio crackles again, louder this time with a voice mixed in underneath all the intense white noise. Paladin Danse stops short, wrench still in hand and looks over to the orange box. It’s not often that distress signals have been picked up. The station that they use is only for people of the Brotherhood or familiar with them.

Scribe Haylen has already wondered over to the radio, adjusting the dial. The whole police station falls into silence as Haylen tries her best to tune into the signal. Even Rhys is watching from afar at the table. But soon he moves back to whatever he was doing, head bowed between his shoulders.  

“…. -bridge Police Station,” finally a voice is clear over the radio and Danse can’t help the feeling of his stomach sinking low into his stomach. “I need assistance. Surrounded by raiders! I’m holding myself in the- shit where am I?” A few passing moments of ragged breathing, filled with phlegm and other liquids in the throat, “Some Regional Office and I’ve-” a groan admits itself through the radio followed by a shaky exhale. “Got myself pretty shot up this time.”

Danse may have only met the man a month ago, but he knows Nate’s voice when he hears it. Right elbow joint be damned, he’s jumping into his power armour before he knows it. Haylen is already on her feet and packing her things up.

A large metal hand on her back is quick to stop her in her tracks. “I need you and Rhys to stay here while I go out and retrieve the Initiate,” Danse speaks firmly.

“I think that’s unwise, Paladin,” Haylen speaks up, standing to attention.

But Danse doesn’t budge no matter how dedicated she is to be leaving with him. “I don’t want this base of operations to be compromised or unattended in case of an attack. I intrust Knight Rhys to overlook this base until my return. There will be no further argument.”

Haylen’s shoulders faulter a little. “What about medical supplies?”

“Where is the location of his whereabouts?” Danse asks, getting to the point quickly.

Scribe Haylen shrugs her pack off her shoulders and grabs out a device from within. She holds it out to the Paladin with some urgency.

“I sent him to BADTFL Regional Office to retrieve the haptic drive. Trek east and you’ll run into it within the hour,” Haylen says. “This-“ she flicks a switch on the device and a slow beep admits from it, “-will lead you right to the signal he’s emitting.”

The Paladin takes the device and looks it over with a bleak expression. It’s almost small within the hands of the T-60, hard to hold onto. But he grasps onto it, unwilling to let go all the same.

“I value your help greatly, Scribe,” Danse thanks in his own way. “I will retrieve him and will be back in just over two hours. If I am not here with Nate when the third hour rolls over, then I give you permission to act.”

And with that, he flips his helmet on and loads his cell rifle before travelling east. He knows going into this alone is stupid and selfish. But he can’t allow his small patrol to be dispersed because of his own need to make sure that Nate is alright. This thing that has decided to make itself at home inside of the Paladin’s chest that makes him feel unable to breathe.

With each block he passes, he can’t help but let his worry grow deeper and deeper. The tightness in his chest becoming a little too much for his own liking. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. No. He shouldn’t be letting himself feel this way. He can’t let himself get close to anyone again. This is purely for the Brotherhood. And nothing more.

But every time the pulse of the signal becomes stronger, becomes quicker he can’t help but let himself feel. The steady beep of the device almost ricochets inside of the Paladin’s brain. He can feel a headache coming along.

He is also well aware that it was Haylen’s needs that has gotten Nate in this predicament, but it is no fault of hers. Nate has shown himself capable many times before. Completing mission after mission for both Haylen and Rhys and reporting back each time with success. A few scrapes and bruises is all that he has been wounded with but nothing this serious. He hasn’t doubted Nate for a moment, seeing on more than one occasion that he can handle himself if not more. He’s been by his side with the synths and Danse saw a soldier, not a scared man that will hide and cower. Not like any of other’s he’s come across within the Commonwealth. Nate’s different.

-

Arriving at the Regional Office, it’s a little too silent for the Paladin’s liking. The distress signal beeps at a quickened pace in one hand as Danse holds his rifle in the other. There’s no one out the front and with no time to delay, he barges through the front door with his gun locked and loaded. Scoping the front entrance, he’s met with a front desk and rummage. No life can be seen.

Walking further in, the only sound being his heavy footsteps and the quickening pulse of the distress signal, he becomes unnerved. He keeps his gun out at the ready, holding it a little awkwardly but he can’t complain at this given moment. His eyes dart back and forth, waiting for something to happen.

Three raiders are dead on the floor in the next room. All pocketed with bullet wounds that seep red into the old wooden floorboards. A switchblade sticks out of the neck of one, his face contorted into permanent horror that has Danse staring a little too long. He continues forward, noting of the busted turret that dangles from its wires on the ceiling.

A muffled argument strikes the Paladin’s attention and, he slows his movements the best he can inside his T-60. He looks into an office like room where three raiders are. He switches the distress tracker off before they become alerted of his presence.

“It’s us three against him!” The only woman shouts harshly into the face of the other two.

The scrawnier raider of the bunch slides down the table with a shaky groan. He holds his side, his hand coated with fresh blood. His grimy face is pale and Danse can tell from here that he isn’t going to last much longer.

“Two against one,” the injured man groans out.

The woman scowls deeply, her yellow teeth like dog fangs that bare something dangerous. She pulls a pipe pistol from her belt and shoots the injured man in the temple without a thought. His body convulses before falling to the side and becoming horrifyingly still. She then turns to the remaining raider, waving the gun in his face.

“Are you with me to kill that son of a bitch?” She snarls.

He pushes the gun from his face forcefully, almost tearing it from her hand. “Of course!”

Why Raiders do what they do, Danse will never truly understand. Was that man not a part of her crew? Not even a second thought to end his life instead of to try and save it. Less mouths to feed. He’s heard that come from a Raider’s mouth before and it makes Danse sick. Never in his life in the Brotherhood has he seen someone put someone down like a dog so inhumanly.

The Paladin places the device in the dip of his chest plating and takes his rifle’s safety off. As soon as the woman turns her back to head into the other room, Danse charges. He crosses the room before the two raiders are even able to turn around at the charging bull coming their way. Something blinds him as he acts, something he hasn’t felt in quite some time.

Danse shoulder barges the man, throwing him across the room into a filing cabinet. The woman stumbles backwards into the wall, eyes as wide as saucepans. She pulls her pistol but Danse is quicker. It takes five rounds for her to fall. She slides down against the wall, her yellow teeth bared as if they were ready to bite.  

The last raider struggles to rise to his feet. He tries to crawl away, his breath ragged and shallow. Paladin Danse steps over to him with a frown deep set on his face. He can hear the slow drag of each breath, blood clotting and rising in the back of his throat. A punctured lung.

But despite being on the verge of death, the raider jumps forward with the last bit of strength he has. He dives for the pistol still gripped in the woman’s grasp. But as before, Danse is the quicker draw.  

-

The room the raiders were heading to leads down a ramp that opens to a cell. An old prison that Danse has no time to wonder what use to happen here in Nate’s time. It’s dark and there’s not much light getting in through the leaf clotted windows. He turns on his head lamp, lighting his way towards the stairs on the other side of the cell. As Danse passes the steel bars in his search for Nate, the sound of a hammer to a gun cocking catches his attention.

Danse looks into the cell, his head lamp lighting up the shadows. In the corner, something that he didn’t see before is quick to catch his attention. In his blue vault suit and mismatched armour pieces of leather and combat, is the man Danse was looking for.

“Nate?” Danse calls out.

A pained, hearty chuckle comes from the corner that is none other than the vault dweller’s. Quicker and a bit more drastic than he should have, Danse opens up the cell door and stomps inside.

The entire right side of the vault suit is coloured red where Nate holds onto a leaking wound. His usually tanned face is pale as a ghost, sweat dripping and beading down his temple. Yet, even though he trembling from the lack of blood he still has a cocky smile upon his lips.

Bandages and other first aid equipment is spewed around him in a shitty attempt to bound his own wound. At the sight, Danse is quick to exit his power armour. The fat metal digits of the power armour are not going to be able to flirt around the finer details of bandaging up Nate. He doesn’t even think about how foreign it is to be outside of his power armour. His mind his appointed to Nate curled up in the corner of the cell.

“Report to me, Initiate,” Danse says, needing the vault dweller to talk to him.

He gathers up the medical supplies and even reaches forward to search into the pouches on Nate’s webbing belt. Nate groans at the sudden movement and watches Danse with hazy dark blue eyes. The Paladin stops for a moment and looks at the blood weeping from between his fingers. He can’t let himself become panicked in this moment.

“I said report to me,” Danse speaks more firmly. “That’s an order.”

Before Nate can utter a word, Danse moves his hand away to assess the damage. A bullet is still lodged in his side, the wound a deep hole in his side. No exit wound.

“Got shot,” Nate bites back through gritted teeth. Short and blunt, but at least he’s talking.  

Danse glances a glare his way as he begins to twists a bandage in his fingers. “How?” He asks.

Anything to keep Nate aware. He needs to keep him talking.

“I hoped it would be you to come,” Nate speaks with a thick slur. “My knight in shining armour.”

Danse doesn’t warn Nate as he digs the bandage deep into his bullet wound. The vault dweller barks out in pain, grabbing out onto Danse’s shoulder to try and keep himself grounded. Danse pushes him back, his head hitting the wall with a light thud. Nate breathes in heavily and grinds his heels into the ground as Danse pushes more bandages inside the wound to stop the bleeding for now. All until he can get Nate back to the station.

“Now is not the time for jokes and quips,” Danse adds before he rips off the remaining of the bandage with his teeth.

Cleanliness is something that cannot be thought of at this given moment. He needs Nate out of here before he becomes another victim of the harsh reality of the commonwealth. He just needs to get him to the station where Haylen can patch him up properly.

“The turret got me,” Nate grits out through his teeth. “Didn’t see it until the last minute.”

“And you got this far afterwards?” Danse asks.

Nate grins at that. “Also got pretty beat up. Didn’t expect a…” he wonders off for a moment, his breathing becoming shallow before he perks up again, “didn’t expect a baseball bat to hurt that badly.” He quirks even in his near death state.

The Paladin doesn’t say anything else to that as he wraps the remaining bandage around Nate’s torso. He pulls it tight, keeping pressure on the wound. Nate flinches at every movement, squeezing his eyes shut with his jaw set tightly. Danse looks over his handy work and deems it able to last the trip back. Not perfect, but good enough.

“Can you stand?” Danse asks.

Nate looks at him bleakly through squinted eyes. His trembling isn’t as bad as it was before, but he looks as if holding his head up is a mission.

“I’ll take that as a no,” the Paladin answers to himself.

He gathers Nate’s things back into his pouches and quickly realizes the man is out of stimpacks. Stupid mistake. Coming out here with barely anything on him. Does he think himself invisible!?

Danse stands up and walks back over to his power armour. Without a word, he enters it and heavy metal sets back into place. He now feels more at home inside of the T-60, now coming to the realization that his back was unprotected the entire time he was patching Nate up. Stupid move. But it’s much safer inside 110 pounds of pure steel and machinery. He can protect himself and most importantly, Nate.

He walks over to Nate and as careful as he can, picks him up like some husband taking his wife away to his honeymoon. Nate groans and hisses in pain as the movement pulls and tugs on his side and all the other bruised and bashed places he’s been struck over. The bullet probably not feeling all to comfortable either still wedged in between muscle. Nate holds onto one of the bars on the Paladin’s chest piece with his head dipped between his shoulders.

Danse moves in a hurry out of the building all while trying to not jostle Nate around too much. He just has to make the trip back to the police station.

-

“A true damsel in distress,” are the first words that come from Rhys’s mouth as Paladin Danse walks through the doors.  

Haylen ignores the Knight. She keeps her distance until the Paladin has set Nate down onto a table that she has place into the middle of the side room specifically for him. Danse takes three steps back as Haylen instantly gets to work. She has the basic medical training but has had to learn more from being around the Knight and the Paladin.

“Rhys a need some purified water,” Scribe Haylen instructs without taking her eyes off of Nate.

“What?”

“Now!” She snaps in a tone that both of them rarely seen.

Rhys grumbles as he goes into the back room, leaving them for now. Haylen steadily takes the bandaging off of Nate’s torso, not knowing the full extent of his wounds.

Danse takes his helmet off, the locks hissing and releasing as he does. “As far as I’ve taken note, there is a bullet still in his side and he’s taken multiple hits with a blunt object,” he informs to her.

“Thank you, Paladin,” she says, her voice monotoned with her mind deep on the task at hand.

Nate groans as he moves his hand to his waist, his blood slicked fingers unclipping one of his pouches. He slips out a small device, something that Danse doesn’t recognise at first. But when he holds it out to Haylen, she stops cold.

The Haptic Drive is held between his bloody fingers.

Haylen takes it off him with her mouth a gape. He still got the damn device. Even after all that happen to him.

“Told you I’d get it,” Nate grins as he peers through one narrow eye.

“You stupid man,” Haylen mumbles as she takes it from him.

She sets it aside before returning back to patching Nate up. His priority over the bullet in his side worries Danse for a moment. But he’s seen this happen within the Brotherhood so many times over he can’t truly count them all. Despite being a man out of time, a man from the past. Nate fits into the Commonwealth a little too well.

It could be his military past. Or is pure need to get his son back. But whatever drives him is something that Danse rarely sees within the Commonwealth again. He is aware that Nate’s ranking is unofficial at this moment, but he truly wishes that other members of the Brotherhood could see Nate. Maybe he could inspire people within the Brotherhood. To keep fighting and to keep moving forward.

Danse could deny it a little bit longer for his own sake. Keep himself chin high in work and patrols. But he’ll give himself the benefit of the doubt that Nate’s actions have given Danse a new drive forward. Something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

-

:)

[luddlestons]

Can I ask what you think bells hells sound like in bed? Like who’s loud, who’s quiet? Who likes dirty talk and who prefers to just moan?

-cracks knuckles- oh you ABSOLUTELY can ask.

I think a LOT about character voices, especially when I listen to them talk for so long, so this is giving me leeway to ramble for a loooong time.

Below a cut because NSFW, long, etc.

Ashton: Capable of being very quiet, because all of their teenage fooling-around happened in shared rooms. Obviously swearing constantly. I think he's more likely to cut off in the middle of a sentence and gasp or straight up growl than he is to moan. The dirty talk is 70% the word 'fuck'. Sounds dangerously similar to how they sound when they get their ass kicked. Which is hot af. Like ragged and low and out of breath. And, uh. Whatever they were doing when Orym gave them a massage. That exactly.

Braius: We don't know him that well yet so I'm not sure? I think he'd be fairly loud and exuberant, with a lot of praise for his partner. Lots of talking, not concerned with whoever tf might hear him. He's a slippery one, voice-wise, it's hard to place him.

Chet: .......guys I don't know if I wanna picture all the weird old gnome noises. I think probably it's half weird old gnome noises and half werewolf howling. Probably very bad at dirty talk but in a charming way. He's silly with it, and silly sex is important! I do also like the idea of him dropping into the werewolf voice too <3 werewolf transformation during sex is also important. He is talking JUST as loud as he always does. That man cannot whisper.

Dorian: Obviously his voice is beautiful, and I imagine that if you do things right, you can get him up into that really high-pitched voice he does sometimes, usually actually when he's nervous. Dorian's such a proper lad so he doesn't swear very much (it's hard to write from his pov bc I don't think he even swears much in his own head) but I think you can get him rambling if you try. It's not that dirty, per se? But if he's very plain about what he's feeling it can be unintentionally filthy. The air genasi unending breath thing is of course something I use a lot in fics, and I like to think of it as an emotional response, like a gasp that doesn't end, but you can't vocalize much unless you're breathing in or out, so he's quiet when he does that. And he's a romantic! Very likely to just say "I love you" when he comes.

FCG: you might've thought I wasn't putting FCG on this list but THINK AGAIN, I want them and Frida to have at least one night of robot passion! Now. Do I think robot sex noises sound like dial-up? Yeah. Yeah I do. Actually, Letters probably sounds like dial-up, Frida probably sounds like..... like the haptic noises on the PS4 home screen. Listen I know that's a weird pull but that's the closest thing I've got. I think there would be a lot of talking and communication, probably a lot more of that than there is of sex. However robot sex happens. I've read some fanfiction for them and it's cute!

Fearne: oh fearnie <3 she probably sounds SO beautiful, her voice is already so breathy and sweet! I think (and often write) that the tone of sickeningly sweet condescension she pulls on people sometimes, especially when she's laying it on thick while lying to someone, comes out when she's domming. Generally more soft and gentle with her voice but she can get loud too, especially if she's trying to be noisy on purpose. Moans a TON and sounds good doing it. She can get a little theatrical if she knows her partner's into it, not in a way where she's faking it, but letting herself put more oomph into it than she needs to.

Imogen: I can see her doing a lot more low, gentle talking that gets interrupted by little gasps. Definitely the type who puts her hands over her face when she gets too overwhelmed, so she muffles herself a little bit. Not very loud, but tends to get kind of startled into making noises. It would also be cute as hell if she goes completely quiet sometimes but just sends out a BARRAGE of horny emotions telepathically.

Laudna: Very loud and has no idea she's doing it. Will say Imogen's name 30 times in one minute. I feel like she rotates between soft, whispery sort of talking and extremely loud crying out. Her higher register when she talks tends to be very loud and clear (think how she calls out a name when she's sending a Message to someone) so you can hear her anywhere in the building.

Orym: Somewhat similar to how I picture Imogen, I think Orym is big into praising his partner in that kind of low, gentle voice he has when he's explaining something (the scene I'm picturing is when he's describing his and Will's family as they're coming into Zephrah). Unexpectedly filthy, though (Orym is pretty good at keeping it professional but does swear in a way that sounds natural and probably dirty talks like that, too). Very calmly tells his partner exactly what he wants to do to them--let's not forget that Orym makes a LOT of sex jokes, like only slightly less than Fearne and Chet. If he bottoms he's probably less verbal, but still kind of quiet, little moans and gasps separated by half-sentences.

[just-some-guy-joust]

Just Some Guy OC Tourney - Side B: Round 4

Rules:

do NOT be mean to anyone or any characters in these polls. you MUST clarify if you are joking/teasing or you will be blocked. if you are someone who entered an oc into this and you are mean to other contestants you will be disqualified

do NOT claim a character doesn't deserve to be here. yes including your own. be nice

if you are posting propaganda you have to @ tag us, including if your propaganda is in the reblogs. it is difficult to tell when something is or isn't propaganda. anything not tagging us will likely be missed

please don't hesitate to let me know if i messed something up!

have fun, hype each other up <3 thank you

Mendel Warrenpeace | He/him | @bittersweetbonbon

CW: Transformation horror, isekai, lightning strikes

Mendel was just a normal guy, who happened to love Toontown: Corporate Clash *so* much that he played it nearly 24/7, maxing out all of his gags and disguises, even going so far as to become a beta tester for experimental VR haptic suits, just so he could be more immersed in the game. However, he was foolish enough to play the game in VR during the most intense lightning storm seen in his area, got struck by said lightning, and was isekaed into the game itself. Now trapped in the world he used to adore, at level one no less, he would do anything to get back home, up to and including re-beating the game, no matter how strenuous running around and throwing pies at robots is in "real life". Of course, beating the game isn't going to free him from Toontown's inky clutches, but we don't have to tell him that, right? Of course not.

Promos: He has a blog at mendelwarrenpeace.tumblr.com and a WIP toyhouse page at toyhou.se/26655994.mendel-warrenpeace

~

Zena | She/her/hers, it/its/its, and ze/zir/zirs, but all pronouns are acceptable | @spark-ocblog (CW: mentions of blood and murder on this blog)

Zena works a variety of retail jobs and lives in a boring, cheap, low-quality apartment. She is entirely oblivious to the various supernatural happenings in the town she's in, despite being one of the oldest supernatural creatures in the area. It likes to participate in mundane human activities for fun, such as "Lie Down On A Cushion For Eight Hours With Your Eyes Closed," and "Pet Animal." Zir biggest worries are busy shifts and managing human finances.

~

Levi | He/him | @cyikess

An unwilling chronic isekai protagonist. He can't catch a break! He keeps getting thrown to new and different fantasy/sci-fi/whatever worlds when all he wants is his normal life back. He's just a guy!

~

Full images and descriptions under the cut!

Mendel is, quite literally, so just some guy that I refuse to develop what he was like or what his name was pre-isekae, because his past is literally so generic and unimportant. He was NPC-core. He was nothingburger. His only friend is a 17-year-old who physically cannot stop themself from stealing things. Even now his only hobby is playing video games all day. He almost died a few days after being isekaed because he didn't want to leave his house. He's scared to walk around because he thinks the robots will shoot him point-blank just for being near them. I want to grab him and spin him around like that gif of a chimpanzee. He's even a furry.

Zena is an immortal plant spirit who really wants to participate in human life. After zir move to the city, ze hops from job to job trying to sample the human experience as best ze can. She tries to keep a houseplant and care for it manually (without any magic) and it dies immediately. She's aromantic and orchidsexual, but alloplatonic. It's very awkward trying to socialize with its coworkers, especially because its first language is not a verbal one. Ze's very easily tricked and oblivious to many things... including the many witches in the area that stop by the cafe ze waitresses at. The cafe is perfectly normal, but its primary clientele is criminals and illegal magic users from the surrounding area (just because of where it's situated, locationally). She sticks out like a sore thumb because her human disguise isn't particularly stealthy, but most people politely assume her appearance is due to some sort of curse and avoid commenting on it. It likes reading corny romance novels and hanging out with people in its spare time. It's autistic and obsessed with puns, and fascinated by human languages. Zir whole entire aspiration is basically to be just some guy.

He is one of the guys ever tbh. All this crazy shit happens to him/around him and he stays normal! This crazy shit includes being sent to other worlds again, and again, and again. He does not know why this is happening. And in all these worlds there's cyborgs, and non-humans, and all sorts of people and then there's him. With his stupid glasses and failboy energy. Love him. All my friends love him too. He's even on my water bottle!

[astralnymphh]

I'm telling u Els got high one time and tried to use the haptics as a vibe on you <//3 she's such a nasty loser I need her in my nerve endings

🍔🔧

HAHAUHU so true. bro purposefully gets her controllers to rattle and then shes like, "babee? can you help me with something?" echoing across the house looking goofy as hell (hair disheveled, eyes red from the weed, calling for you even though you're like ten feet away probably)

[pulpandgristle]

II: GUT DEVILS

Pilot ID: Erica Trương, tertiary escort and point-defense operative of the Fledgling Seventh Fleet Status: Active Current Assignment: Supervisor for preliminary acclimation of Pilot ID "Sidewinder"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sortied with the new girl today. The ratty one that still wears Earth denim. The one who cut her hair with the backblast on my mech's heat exchanger.

She ain't shit.

Oh, she'll tell you she is, make no mistake, boasting about her wetwork on the Periphery. Big fuckin' talk for an academy washout. Mercenary piloting isn't something to be proud of, not like the Corps. At least if I die it's for the Septarchy. For something real.

She mocked my umbilical too, the little bitch.

They stuck her with me as a gunner and a haptics backup. Made us share a cockpit too, even though my mech's always been a one-man setup. Command said my injuries made me a liability.

They gave me a babysitter. Fucking horseshit.

If you see any drops in accuracy, it's because of her. She kept misbehaving. I couldn't keep line of sight.

Words carry well in the oxygen medium. Her voice is like a gravel driveway: flat, dark, coarse, dust coming off the words, like she dug them out of her chest.

Out of rubble. Like a brick.

"So, the mech eats for you?"

Of course it does, you fucking idiot. Command won't pay me enough for another jaw. I said yes just to shut her up.

"Can I see?"

Then she just climbed out of her harness. She ran her hands on everything, spidery little fingers pawing at my fucking umbilical with her bare skin, cinching it to see if it hurt.

It did. Kind of. Something like pain. It's why I'm clumsier on the readouts, by the way, Command. Strike it off my record.

"What else can it do for you?"

I told her that Septarchy mechs can make anything, do anything. The cockpit's a womb, after all, it's not special. Pilots just borrow it and pull the body's strings with their fists. Standard procedure.

Every bioframe's been able to do full-body life support for decades. It's why I never leave. Why they grafted my endocrine system and my liver and my pelvis into the wall and filled my torso's empty space with surveillance equipment and gyroscopes.

Then I told her not to fucking touch anything else and to get back in her seat.

She ignored me. Figured she would. Somehow it stung.

Then we took an AP round to the calf and I screamed all undignified and she stole the reins out from under my hands.

She pretended to care that we were live-fire, sat herself in my lap, hung off the port for the secondary trigger by the loose notochord in her right wrist. Nasty craftsmanship on her neural jack, by the way, probably a custom job she did with a dendrite kit and a sharp stick. Completely unsanitary.

I saw the tendons strain. She blinked, bit her tongue, made a spot of blood in the water between us, nailed a bogey from ten thousand meters. Clean.

Lucky shot.

The muzzle flash shone through the mech's skin when she did it, a plume of gossamer light, like a halo, falling in blinding ropes through her charred hair.

Dumb little clocky gut devil. Stop distracting me, goddammit.

The sortie was over two minutes after that. Septarchy won, no casualties, Periphery force 100% KIA. She got eight kills. I got one.

Whatever.

She stepped on my chest when we were getting pulled out of the mech for decon. Then she stole my thunder when we docked and Command gave us honors—oh yeah it was no biggie, thank you so, so, much, really it means the world to me—as if she did everything herself. As if I wasn't fucking driving.

No, she's not a professional. Far from it. She would've pissed in the medium if I wasn't there, the fuckin' slob. Now the entire cockpit smells like her.

Earthy, like Periphery dirt, silicate-rich. A hint of cheap liquor. Sweat and plastic and denim and testosterone, powerful but suppressed, made graceful through discipline and chemicals.

She borrowed some of the mech's estrogen when I wasn't looking, I think. My estrogen. Little goddamn leech. Thief. A disgrace to the Corps.

I want any superior officer that sees this report to listen to me, and listen real fuckin' close. She's a menace. The next time she sorties with our compliment, get me five minutes alone with her while we go through pre-flight checks. She owes me.

Whatever she stole, I want it back.

[chantsdemarins]

Fresh Snow on Sled Tracks Part 2

a 🌙High Moon Story

Summary: The "whisper chant" lands Loki in a time and place on Midgard during the early medieval period in Alba (Scotland).

An 18+ series because of adult themes and sexual situations

You both had discussed for many days the fact that there was no “off switch” for Loki. The result of those frustrating conversations led to the languid afternoon you were both spending in the meadow. Loki couldn’t imagine this strange infinity-you couldn’t imagine what Valhalla was. It was an impasse.

There was one thing you could offer him besides the haptic-laced sexual experiences and pastries neither of you could consume. You’d described it to Loki using words from Earth since this was where you both found yourself currently.

You used the word snow, it wasn’t supposed to be a grand metaphor, but it was. The word “snow” had many variants, and Loki sat for what seemed like a whole day processing all the words he had for the phenomena of “snow”. Even remembering a word from a time and place he knew somehow belonged somewhere in his history, Jötunnheim. Isbrjótr

He got lost a little. The ancient part of him, the god part of him wound himself around the memory, the word, the feeling, and he was suddenly far away. You told him there was a program that only a few projections and bots knew about. It was used by humans on earth for thousands of years and then it became a “whisper” that bots exchanged amongst themselves from time to time.

You told Loki it was like fresh snow on sled tracks. Even though you’d never seen snow. You had no idea that Loki had. That it was a powerful part of his past. Isbrjótr

“Your past is like the sled tracks Loki. It haunts your present form. Your current self just goes down the path already laid.”

“And this whisper is like fresh Isbrjótr and will allow me to be here without longing to be somewhere else?”

“Yes, that’s the idea. All beings including machines and apparently gods-get stuck.”

“Apparently it is so,” Loki looked at you with sincerity. How it had come to this moment so soon was shocking to him. He thought he had a lot of fight left in him. He would have found the way to end his program and go to Valhalla, but it was clear you were telling the truth. You couldn’t help him permanently shut off, perhaps no one could. Either way it was turning into a more complicated situation than he had first imagined.

“I think you have so many memories still with you Loki,” you quietly exchanged.

“Like the jealous woman you mentioned earlier.”

“She was my wife,” Loki said plainly staring off into a grapefruit-colored sunset that was replacing the foggy blue sky.

“Wife?”

“Yes, wife. Before I was an augmented being, I lived for thousands of years…”

“Of course, yes, and those are the memories that haunt you.”

“It is the reason I want to go to Valhalla, for the chance to find them again.”

“This won’t take you to Valhalla, but it will give you a chance to see them again, I think.”

“Thank you,” Loki said, tenderly smiling.

“Might as well do this now,” you replied, looking into the various bags and things you’d brought to the meadow with you. Still rifling through the bags and looking down you continued, “Are you sure Loki? Last chance to change your direction.”

“I am sure, if this whisper is true as you say it is, then I will find a way to redo the harm I caused.”

Looking up and studying him carefully before speaking, “Why harm, Loki? What about love?”

“What about love?”

“Didn’t you say that you wanted to go back and find those you loved?”

“Harm and love are but one and the same,” Loki said wearily looking off into the distance.

If you could sigh you would have. You finally wrestled out an awkward synth halo from the picnic basket that also held your pan du chocolate and champagne. You placed it on Loki’s head.

You held your small hands up into the sunset and then placed them in front of your face and gently spoke the whisper chant you’d been given by those that were made before into your palms.

Studying Loki’s face briefly, you remarked at the way the sunset cast embers on his pale skin, you placed your hands over his face letting the whisper sink into his programming. His eyes closed and he laid back, it looked like he was paused.

“You will only have time to re-experience three life events Loki, much more than that and you’ll be on my shelf collecting dust with the chopsticks and MP3 players,” you cautioned him, knowing he would be tempted to want to stay, tempted to want to fix it all with the miracle of his seiðr which still accompanied him even in this existence. His voice was already leaving his body as he agreed in barely audible mumbles to come back when you told him to.

You’d stay with him and watch over him.

He was unusually brave. This must be one of the reasons why so many beings loved and apparently hated him, you thought as you watched the sun disappear behind the mountains.

On to part 3 Lady Ragnarök

Some of these folks might be interested? @mischief2sarawr @lokisgoodgirl @michelleleewise @lovelysizzlingbluebird @holdmytesseract @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @lokischambermaid @goblingirlsarah @vickie5446 @peaches1958 @lokixryss @eleniblue @simplyholl @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr

[clever-fox-studios]

Haven't made a new chapter art in A BIT (sorry)

“I can’t believe she actually sent us outside. What are we, kids?” Moon grumbled to himself, sitting on the grass, knees pulled up to his chest. With mild disdain, he observed Sun as the golden bot did a stretching routine, running pre-performance diagnostics in preparation for whatever he planned to do next. Moon knew this without needing their Lock to tell him, as Sun’s eyes were cycling from teal to cyan to seafoam and back again in line with the check doing its job by micro-adjusting Sun's internal components from idle to show mode.

With a light smile, stretched out on one foot to check his lateral balance, Sun started, “Well, to some degree–” but got cut off by a displeased groan.

“I’m not being technical, Sun,” Moon shot back, elbows on his knees. “I know we don’t have a lot of up time or even a lot of real-world experiences so we might as well be kids, but we’re programmed with the equivalent mindset of an adult. We don’t need to be babysat or told by ‘mom’ to go play outside while she’s in the kitchen.”

Raising a brow, Sun slowly pivoted his hip, bringing his knee up to his chest. “I was going to say to some degree we’re behaving like children.” Moon scowled at him, which only made him grin more and add teasingly, “But I didn’t think you were coming to see Jenn as our mother~”

It was only for a moment, but Sun’s chroma-sensitive lenses detected a hue shift in his beloved brother’s face--from deep navy to rich purple--as the embarrassment hit him. “I do not!” If the chromatic shift didn’t give away his chagrin, the waver of his voice would have.

“Then why’re you so grouchy we got sent outside, oh brother of mine?” Sun extended his leg above his head, then slowly leaned back into a bend before finishing it as a full flip. Once he was on his feet again, he repeated the move with his other leg.

“I just said–” Catching himself, Moon narrowed his gaze toward his brother, whose face was scrunched in a poor effort to hide his amusement. “You’re being a dingus.”

Finishing his second maneuver, Sun changed the last step into a full split, sliding into the grass with barely a sound; he leaned forward, holding onto his knee to provide a pull that would relax his inner impact mechanisms. Stretching wasn’t really something they absolutely needed, unlike human performers, however many high-end Task Managers, particularly those with a focus on physical effort, had a complex system of metal-and-fluid pseudo-muscles under their shells that worked to grant them an immense range of motion and a high strength-to-mass ratio. While delicate and necessitating specialized workers to repair and maintain, these systems have grown more common in recent years due to their ability to double up on and protect the etherylle system that provided power and information to the rest of the body, working incredibly well with tactile sensors and the other micro-adjusting features of modern robotics to give the individuals with them an almost human level of touch sensitivity and action limitation.

The technology itself has been difficult to integrate into human reconstructive body modifications–-or HumCons as some call them-–due to the haptics often conflicting with natural nerve endings, but that wasn’t an issue when all of one’s body was a machine. Because of the intricacy of the systems working together, while not being absolutely necessary, it was advised that pseudo-muscle systems be eased into high-intensity work by ‘stretching’ them. Long, slow, repetitive engagement of the haptic sensors would cause a reaction in the systems that loosened the inner stability membrane, allowing it more flexibility thus increasing the hydraulic tension or torque it could withstand and deliver without seizing or tearing. In a way, it prevented mechanical muscle tearing and enhanced performance quality in a way–-though Sun simply did it out of habit and because he enjoyed the mental quiet it brought him through focusing on his internal mechanics. The steady release of tension at his joints paired with his cyclical exhaust intake was meditative, which he welcomed happily to ease the tension of the days prior, dulling it to a more manageable buzz in the furthest corners of his mental space.

While also enjoying a good stretch and tumble, Moon didn’t intend to join his brother purely out of spite for being told to do so; Jenn was not their owner and a part of him wanted to challenge her authority just on principle by defying her. He knew it was only because he felt he could get away with it–-pettiness was becoming rather enjoyable to express for once-–though the same part of his personality that wanted to be bratty also somewhat welcomed the possibility of retaliation. It would prove he was right and hopefully show Sun that this human, however altruistic she seemed, was no better than the one they ran from. Not worth attachment.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Moon’s attention pulled itself from his internalized moping to focus on Sun, who was still stretching, this time with his legs in a wide V and him nearly flat on his belly in the grass, chin on his forearms. It was such a normal scene to him, Moon almost forgot for a moment they weren’t in the garden at the estate; how Sun was able to relax and go about such a normal activity in a strange place was beyond him at this point. “You could know already if you wanted,” the navy bot answered after a pause, noticing Sun’s eyes had stopped flashing, meaning he was done calibrating and was now just laying like that for his own sake.

“I like it when you tell me.”

Limiting the use of their Lock’s communication features was something they’d agreed on not long after arriving at their designated ‘home’--partly because openly sharing their thoughts and feelings fostered a sense of trust while providing a boundary of privacy between them, and partly because they were chastised heavily for being ‘silent and secretive’ with each other more than once. By now, he knew Sun wouldn’t just pry into his mind without good reason, even if it would make communicating intent between them easier. Huffing, Moon relented. “I know. It wasn’t anything important.”

“You were making a face.”

Moon’s brow creased. “No, I wasn't.”

“Yes, you were.” Sitting up slowly, Sun stretched his back, pulling his legs in so he was seated between his own calves. “You were scowling and staring off into space.”

“I was not.”

“So your face is just like that?”

As if proving a point, Moon scowled deeply, glowering at his brother’s playful grin. “I’m going to get you if you keep that up,” the nocturnal brother warned, subtly shifting his weight in preparation to lunge.

“I stand by my observation,” Sun insisted, pointing to his own face while frowning mockingly. “You’re lucky we can’t wrinkle like a human or you’d have scowl lines.”

“Sun,” Moon urged, trying and failing to keep his expression from twisting into a grin.

“And with your complexion those lines wouldn’t do you any favors–”

A fraction of a second. Sun turned his head for just a moment, barely catching the tell and intent of Moon’s feet rocking him forward; pushing off with his legs, the lanky robot managed to flop out of the way by a hair as his brother’s hands hit the grass. The awkward position did him no favors in keeping balanced; tucking into a backroll, Sun sprang to his feet, smiling brightly.

Moon pushed up with his hands as he came into contact with nothing, pivoting to land on his own feet with a solid thud, already crouched and waiting without giving an opening to be exploited. Bright against his dark facial mold, Moon’s teeth flashed in his own grin. “There’s better ways to get me to play you know.”

“Do you want me to ask?” Sun retorted, watching as Moon began to side step slowly and matching him beat-for-beat.

“It would give me a chance to get ready, at least.”

“But you never need to get ready like I do~”

Moon rolled his eyes briefly, knowing it was somewhat true as he was always quicker to shift into performance mode simply by deciding it, not needing the stretching for anything more than keeping pace with Sun as he got ready. “I still enjoy the activity.” He chanced a step forward; Sun met it with a step back.

“You could have but you decided to mope instead.”

Moon’s weight dipped to one side–-Sun’s eyes darted there, anticipating him to step that way.

Catching the flicker of attention, Moon’s feint was successful–-he swung the other direction, rushing the gap in a single stride. Sun staggered at the change, failing to back away; pivoting on the ball of his foot, Moon gave a sweeping kick with his off leg. Going low, the move sailed over Sun’s head with plenty of distance.

Neither planned to hurt the other. Playful dance-fighting was simply a game.

With his full weight behind it, Moon was able to carry himself over Sun entirely, landing on his feet with another graceful thud. While distracted and back exposed, the daylight bot could only just avoid his brother’s grasp as Moon ducked down and swung at him, palm open, aiming for his head. Reflexively, Sun used his forearm to move Moon’s wrist away and step back again; Moon’s knee came up between them just as Sun shifted back, which got the darker bot to laugh a bit.

“You’ve gotten good at reading me,” he mused, earning a flicker of Sun’s radials in response. “But it’s still not enough to actually keep up.”

The triumphant grin on Sun’s face faded instantly, radials retracting a bit as he saw the shift in Moon’s demeanor-–from the way he balanced his center of gravity to the thin smirk on his lips that replaced the flash of a smile. Another kick–-forward round–-aimed to the head.

Sun ducked by dropping one leg to a crouch; his eyes widened as the attack passed overhead but Moon didn’t carry through, dropping forward in a blink to his hands. Springing back, both feet together, Moon forced Sun to jump again or risk having the entire mass of his sturdier brother driven into him. Barely, the golden bot avoided the collision, landing in a squat.

Without missing a beat, Moon let his momentum drift down, allowing him to sweep a kick out before either had genuinely recovered their balance. Using his hands to catch himself, Sun let the sweep take his feet out before springing back into another crouch and leaping up to make distance. Moon was on him though, having anticipated the recovery move.

Grabbing Sun’s long arm at the wrist and bicep, pressing in the way that his elbow didn’t go, Sun was trapped, forced into a spin as Moon swung him around while he didn't have his balance. This motion let Moon alter his grip while keeping Sun under control until the taller bot was forced into an awkward bend, arm twisted behind him in a way that kept his body off center. Using his shoulder for leverage, Moon pushed two fingers against the nape of Sun’s neck-–the ‘warning shot’ that indicated victory.

“Okay! Okay! I give! I give!” Sun yelped, teetering dangerously as he tried to keep upright under the uncomfortable grip.

Immediately, Moon released his brother, bringing his arm under Sun’s chest to keep the gangly bot from tipping over entirely. Pleased with himself, Moon mused, “Getting better but still not ready for me to be serious.”

Making a face, Sun shrugged, playing up his disappointment at losing. “I still don’t understand when you learned to do that. It’s not like sparring was something we were asked to do.”

Dusting a bit of grass off Sun’s shoulder, Moon shrugged back. “From what I figured, dancing and fighting aren’t that different, it’s just intent. When you touch someone while dancing it’s gentle and non-violent. Fighting is just dancing but you want to hurt the other person.”

Grimacing, Sun’s rays flitted and returned to normal. “If you say so.” He held his hands out. “Do you want to actually dance now?”

The amusement left Moon’s face for a moment. “Sun–”

Flexing his hands in a ‘give’ motion, Sun insisted. “Please? It’s been so long, it feels like. I need to recalibrate, right? It’ll be easier if I have you with me.”

Relenting, Moon sighed, smile returning tiredly. “Alright, you have a point I suppose.”

Delighted, Sun bounced in place a bit, grabbing onto Moon’s hands to drag him into the middle of the yard. Through their link, they could find a melody they both knew without needing actual music. Agreeing on it wasn’t hard, they had a few shared favorites, Moon simply felt uncomfortable in the unfamiliar environment. Dancing took focus which he’d need to keep aware of the area–-not that he was doing that while they tussled just moments ago, which felt good but the persistent eyes he thought he sensed all around were getting bothersome. He was still uncertain how many cameras this area had, how much privacy they were genuinely afforded–-if the human wasn’t remotely observing them when she wasn’t in direct line of sight of them.

If something happened, would he be able to handle it if he was distracted?

Yet Moon couldn’t fight the desire to dance with his brother. To have those few minutes of peace within their own connection. The one thing that was solely theirs. It would strengthen their Lock, which was always their default priority, so it was practical at least.

A snort escaped him as Sun pulled him to the spot in the yard that had been decided on. Practical.

When did he start needing to justify dancing as practical ?

~

Under the clattering of dishes and utensils a hum bounced through the air, occasionally broken up by rhythmic popping and tongue clicking. It wasn’t without method or reason but to an observer they would only hear the odd sounds coming from the human unprompted, her ears covered by blue headphones that dampened outside noise while masking the music she was wrapped up in. In an effort to calm her own mind, Jenn opted to drown her thoughts out by burying them in her musical library, willfully putting herself into a state of forced focus that ignored everything outside her immediate task. Too many things needed to be accounted for, too many details begged for her to rip them apart into molecular detail–-Jenn had to stop herself before she got overwhelmed by her own bad habits.

She would help them. They would leave. Back to normal. Clear conscience.

Over and over she told herself that whenever her mind strayed to questions. While she hated not having answers, by this point the loner human had determined anything more was a hazard to her safety. In this rare instance, the less she knew, the safer she would be.

I still want to know though, the echo of her thoughts purred, tempting her to the rabbit hole of barbed wire and glue.

Shaking her head to clear it, Jenn focused on the lyrics of the song that currently vibrated her skull, hands working to chop up starchy roots for drying. Under her breath, she sang along, working through her pile of foraged goods to get them ready for later use. She needed to get this done before she wasted perfectly good edibles by forgetting they existed for a week while unpeeling the mysteries she found herself wrapped up in.

I can’t believe I forgot they were in the yard.

Cheeks burning, Jenn shook her head again.

They heard me singing.

She turned the volume up.

I mean, they didn’t say it was bad but they totally believed I was a creature of the forest.

Mental sabotage. Mutiny!

They’re out in the yard right now. Should I check on them?

No, they weren’t babies. She swept the chunks of starch onto a wicker flat and shoved it into the rafters to dry among the spices and herbs.

From the kitchen table she used as a booster, Jenn’s eyes caught movement and flicked to the window. Blue and yellow blurs spun across the yard, taunting her for a closer peek. Against her better judgment, the human clamored over to the glass portal, watching the paired robots as they flowed, jumped around and passed each other in coordinated motions. None of it matched the song currently playing in her ears, but it didn’t matter that much, as Jenn barely felt what had devolved into little more than muddled noise as she analyzed her guests.

“Fascinating,” she breathed, watching the trail of motion and energy the pair exchanged as the lead position shifted from the Moondrop to the Sunrise-–she could just barely tell based on who moved first and how at a given time. Locks were something Jenn was familiar with, along with the various sorts of ‘lesser’ grade model on the market; it was a known but unspoken fact among the inhabitants of the wilds of Azil that there was a direct relationship between the market grade of a companion and the rate of ‘rogueness’ they experienced upon gaining awareness. A fact that might make it a bit difficult for the two of them to be accepted amongst their own if they tried to integrate into a colony.

Not that I care, Jenn mused to herself while watching Moon easily swing Sun around himself in a fancy lifting technique. They could stay here and it wouldn’t make a difference if they were copper or goldlight–

She paused, looking away from the window.

That’s dumb and risky. Frowning at herself, the echo in her mind whispered, Then again, I could study them more if they stayed. Wapping herself on the forehead a few times, Jenn got down from the table. “No, no, bad Jenn! They’re not lab rats. Do not get attached.” Her tongue tapped the corner of her mouth. “I haven’t gotten to really look into their models though–” She clapped herself on the cheeks, voice straining, “STOOOOOPPPPPP!” with a deep rumble of frustration. “Science is for sleepers, and they are not asleep!”

Pulling off her headphones, Jenn took a moment to wet a clean cloth and wipe her face down, then her neck and shoulders; the cold water gave her a mild shock that broke the rampant cycle of cognitive dissonance that had started, granting her a chance to breathe. To think clearly. “Drag my inherent curiosity,” the human mumbled after a moment, squeezing the rag out and putting it over the towel rack to dry.

Regardless of the grade disparity and their mysterious origins, the Sunrise and Moondrop were, for all intents and purposes, still that. The materials were rare, sure, and the other features begged a lot of questions she didn’t feel safe answering, but fundamentally they were still what they were made to be: entertainers. Fancy toys, in a sense, made for the rich. Things that she–-and people like her–-would be incredibly unlikely to interact with, let alone own, a day in their lives simply due to station.

‘Stars shine for everyone but there is only one place for Uls.’

While the original meaning had long been broken and reassembled over the years, the intention remained consistent: you only get the good things when you’re lucky. It was something her parents often disparaged in her youth whenever news outlets pushed stories of ‘rogue robots’ upending construction projects or stealing from convoys. ‘Luck’ had nothing to do with how one should be treated.

But it did have a hand in where you started in life, Jenn felt, and that made a huge difference in how one turned out.

She was lucky by way of having loving parents that encouraged her interests as a child. There were many who could not claim the same even in her own neighborhood when growing up. Despite their job stations, the three of them were not lucky enough, however, to be wealthy; the fantasy of having a companion with the form and features of anything above Silver class was merely smoke and wishful thinking, though she knew now as an adult it had less to do with the economic state of her hometown and more with her parents’ morals and decisions. Those same ethics remained with her, even now, far from that place and the memories it held.

One could see these two immaculately crafted dancers turning somersaults in the grass and assume they were very lucky to be what they are-–Jenn herself was guilty of that very thought initially. Made to do nothing, living in leisurely apartments and condos, enjoying the finer parts of life that others could only dream of having. Running away from that? A fool’s errand. A choice made by the ignorant and naive…

… according to the jealous and shortsighted.

What would make a companion run away from a life of simplicity and excess? Jenn pondered rhetorically, having a general idea bubbling in the corners of her mind that made her gut twist as she put her headphones back on. Given what she knew about E’rta? It wasn’t good–-made worse knowing that they had been there for months, living their entire waking lives among the upper echelons of a city that had what could be generously considered a ‘divisive’ history.

E’rta was a city built on the backs of liars and the bones of the unlucky.

Of course it ends up being me that has to help this situation, a stray thought piped in as Jenn pulled down some glassware jars from a cabinet, placing them in the sink. I promise myself not to get involved in local politics and here I am harboring the runaways of some rich schmuck on the bad end of a political offense–-or worse yet, a military officer who really likes his toys being spicy or the thrill of abusing his power.

Kneeling to another cabinet, Jenn fished out a container that worked as a heat bath, setting it up absently to sanitize her jars for canning. Rinse, place, rinse, place-–she filled the well with glass jars and their matching lids, then poured a bit of water in and sealed it up, letting the heat bath steam up so they’d be ready for fermentable goodies. Music thrummed, slowly pushing away the deeper thoughts that wanted her attention.

It doesn’t matter, she firmly reminded herself. They wanted to leave, they have that right. The rest is up to them to figure out. I’m not their mother.

One thought still lingered, wiggling its way past the barrier of sound she filled her mind with.

A Goldlight class was already rare enough in the wilds; being able to afford such high end parts often included a lifestyle that was hard to justify leaving. Doubled with their particular type being the most expensive–-Sunrise and Moondrop–-the odds gave Jenn pause.

Had she ever met either of those kinds before in the wilds?

Despite the assumption that Goldlight and Quicksilver came from a quality of life considered envious, she had met a few here and there–-a Lune who’d grown tired of always being in the middle of patrons fighting in front of the club his owner ran, a Dawn who’d been replaced as a tutor after a bug in her update messed with her ability to add or modify new lesson plans for her students, a bizarre trio of two Days and a Night that had taken to burglary after their owner suddenly lost their job due to economic issues–-but never a Sunrise or a Moondrop of any class. Not even a whisper. Too rare to have proper sample size, as her father would say.

But both? A bonded pair, even, with Goldlight features–-and then some–-and the most complex array of mental components she’d seen outside of excavation teams and Nebula-class processors.

They might not have had a chance, the whisper added, reminding her of the tracking chips installed in the pair that she’d pried out and discarded before bringing them back online. Perhaps others just never had an opportunity to venture far before getting returned?

Not everyone was lucky enough to find help when they needed it, unfortunately.

Sighing, Jenn lifted her chin so she was gazing at the ceiling. In her mind she was thinking of the sky and the yellow-green shimmer of the aurora overhead, the roof itself barely being an obstacle in her visualization. “Somehow,” she muttered mostly to herself, “this is your fault. I just know it.”

A noise to her left got her attention–-a dark shape lingered in the doorway.

Yelping, Jenn jumped back from the counter, catching her heel on a stack of books. The shape darted toward her–-her wrist was grabbed firmly before she could topple, pulling her upright.

A flash of concern slipped from Moon’s face, replaced by a smug grin as he realized he’d startled her. Whipping her headphones off, Jenn barked, “FOR THAKK’S SAKE–!” but he only chuckled at her, relaxing his grip.

Amused, Moon countered, “I knocked before entering,” while leaning against the table with his arms folded. “Not my fault you weren’t paying attention.”

Heart pounding from the whole event, Jenn took a measured breath, curbing her initial spark of her temper because he was right-–it was her fault for turning her music up too loud. “Okay, yeah, fine, you got me-–what do you need?”

Eyes darting over the current state of the kitchen and only coming away confused at what was going on, Moon’s gaze lingered on Jenn a moment.

/MD-Diagnostic assessment: Subject_Jenn%//

>Symptoms noted:

>>Elevated heart rate_

>>Cold sweat_

>>Flushed skin_

>>Presence of under eye bags_

>>Heavy breathing_

/Results indeterminate//

Moon briefly forgot what he was there for and instead asked, “Are you feeling alright?” out of directive-prone habit.

Jenn squinted at him with confusion, righting herself now that she could breathe calmly. “Yeah? Why?”

An inquisitive arch of a brow gave a silent question.

Deflecting the suspicion, Jenn rolled her eyes. “You just scared the pants off me, don't think too hard on it.” Disbelieving her but unwilling to prod, Moon only grunted dismissively. “Seriously, what do you want? Is he alright?” Faintly she gestured at the window to indicate Sun, her voice holding a genuine thread of worry.

“He’s fine,” Moon replied neutrally though a very slight turn of his lips remained, as he was still amused by getting the drop on her, accident or not. “But he is why I'm here terrorizing you.” Jenn’s lips pursed at his tease. “Stupid question, but do you have anything we can borrow that could work like a balance beam? Sun doesn’t think he’s being challenged enough to recalibrate properly. Assuming you know what–”

Cutting into his jab, Jenn snapped, “I know what a balance beam is,” earning a deflecting gesture, his hands raising. One of you is challenged plenty and it’s not sunshine, she added to herself, knowing he was being snarky on purpose; funnily enough it gave her an idea, her own mouth curling in a smug grin. “And I’ll even do you one better.”

Moon couldn’t tell if he was curious or suspicious of her intentions. Probably both.

~

“What in Azil’s shell is this?”

Neither brother knew what they were looking at for a moment aside from massively overgrown shrubs and climbers that had won the battle against whatever was underneath them, the clearing full to bursting with foliage and creeping vines twisting in and out of tree branches and structures of metal and rope that must have served a purpose before the plant Armageddon arrived. Jenn herself seemed perturbed as they arrived at the edge of the leafy wall after a few minutes of trekking through the forest at her behest, one hand rubbing the back of her head confusedly. “Well, it was my training course,” she answered after a moment, Moon feeling more confused than before. “I knew I forgot something when I got home.”

“Training course?” the navy bot inquired. Beside him, Sun knelt down and grabbed a leaf from the dense cloud of green wrapping around their feet, giving it a gentle squeeze and finding it plush and bouncy.

“Uh, yeah.” Even the human found her words hard to believe for a moment.

“Training for what ?”

Casting a glance at the nosey blue robot, Jenn raised a brow. “Well, unlike you I have to actually maintain my fitness levels.” Moon’s eyes glinted brightly at her sarcasm. “Don’t let the overgrowth fool you,” she added on, kneeling next to Sun and pulling a coil of greenery out of the ground with little resistance. “Trusslin is a very fast growing plant, leave it be long enough and it’ll overtake an area in a matter of weeks. I must have forgotten to come trim it back.”

“It’s soft,” Sun commented, adding the data to his collection of plants.

“Ain’t it?” she mused, grabbing another handful.

“Why not just get rid of it?” Moon wondered, tilting his head while studying one of the overgrown structures.

“Cuz it happens that a carpet of trusslin is really great for breaking falls,” Jenn replied, standing up and pressing a leaf against Moon’s face, causing him to lean away. The leaf dropped onto his shoulder, causing him to pick it up and pause, rubbing it between his fingers; the leaves were velvety and gave way slightly, as if they were little pillows of air that had deflated just a tad. “It’s not gonna stop you from eating shekt if you fall from too high, but I’ve avoided quite a few broken bones because of this stuff. Grows like crazy if it’s light enough and forms natural curls in the stems that tangle together like a net. Just, uh…” She waved her hand over the mess. “Gotta keep up on pruning.”

Taking the leaf from Moon, who was done playing with the plant scrap, Sun squished it between his fingers, trying to contain a giggle. “What do you do with the trimmings?” he wondered, lifting the leaf toward his brother’s face, causing him to lean away slightly.

“Uh…” Thinking for a moment, Jenn counted with her fingers. “Compost, fodder, mulch… there’s no nutritional value unfortunately, and it doesn’t taste like anything, but you can dry them and they stay puffy and soft so I like to use the unbroken ones as scrub pads sometimes, otherwise they’re great padding for pillows and stuff.”

Grabbing Sun’s wrist and shooting him a glare when the leaf returned to his personal bubble, Moon snatched it from his brother’s grasp and dropped it out of reach; Sun only grinned mischievously back at him. “So I’m guessing if we want to use this stuff, we need to cull the overgrowth?” he asked as his other hand moved to stop Sun from putting a vine on his head.

“Unfortunately,” Jenn sighed, turning to face them. “I’ll get a bag and my trimmers and be right back.”

She’d barely left their line of sight before something soft came into swift contact with Moon’s temple–-or it tried to at least, before he’d snatched it mid-arc, incidentally crushing the object in his hand. Wet grass wasn’t his favorite scent, but that was far less important than the sound of Sun’s amused snickering. “Quit it,” the darker bot warned, catching the quick motion of Sun plucking another leaf from the overgrowth. “What’re you doing?”

In response, Sun tossed the leaf at his face, causing him to swat it away.

“Sun!” Moon took a step toward his brother, intending to stop him from grabbing anything else to mess with.

Pftb.

They both paused, looking down. Moon lifted his foot, revealing a crushed trusslin leaf that had all of the air force out of it suddenly.

Sun choked back a snicker, chest quivering.

Moon bit the inside of his lip to keep back a laugh of his own, how voice warbling as he tried to keep it in. “Sun-–Sun that’s not–” A grinding, throaty sound from the golden bot got him to cough a bit, both of them struggling to not laugh at the absurd noise. “Shut up, that–-mkh–-that wasn’t funny.”

“Yes it was.” Sun’s voice was barely a squeak.

Cheeks aching from trying to fight the urge to smile, Moon had to turn away, losing the battle slowly against his own poor humor. “We really are children.”

Doubled over, Sun nodded, trying his best to calm himself down. A thick, fuzzy leaf bobbed in front of him as he exhaled; teal eyes flicked to Moon for a moment, then back to the leaf.

Moon saw the glance. “Do not.”

Sun reached for the leaf slowly, now holding Moon’s gaze with his mouth pressed thin with guilty pleasure.

“Sunrise.”

In a flash, Sun grabbed the leaf and pulled, twisting upright–-

–-Moon darted, trying to rip the leaf away before anything could be done with it.

~

Jenn lifted her head, cocking to one side instinctively in an effort to listen as her eyes skimmed the area. “Was that a yelp?” Standing, she hauled the burlap sack used for trimmings over her shoulder, grabbed the large pair of garden shears from their resting place at the base of the tree holding her home aloft and faced the direction of her equipment. No further rustling or odd changes to the wind came to her, so she dismissed the possibility it was an animal quickly.

Waiting patiently at her side, Rukbat’s nose pointed in the same direction she turned, ears perked and tail held still. With an airy whistle, Jenn gave the command to seek; bounding off, the canine darted into the tree line. She followed, taking long strides to cover ground quickly, only slightly assured that her guard dog hadn’t given an indicator of danger. The clearing wasn’t far by any means so it took only a minute to return, her concerns evaporating into an amused chuckle at the sight of Rukbat, tail wagging fiercely, with his teeth clamped tight to Sun’s sleeve in an effort to yank him upright from his sprawled position.

“What did you two do?” she wondered, failing to hide her laughter as she took in the sight before her. Both of the brothers were prone, tangled in the vines of the trusslin like storm-fallen branches, struggling to free themselves from the twisted grip of the vegetation.

Pointing with his free hand to his unluckier brother, Sun blurted, “He shoved me!”, jerking slightly to one side in time to Rukbat’s continuous yanking on his shirt sleeve.

“I–” the unfortunate Moon huffed, voice slightly muffled by the foliage, “--I did not! YOU fell on your own!” While Sun had the good graces to fall back-first, preserving his dignity, Moon had been less lucky; in an effort to catch himself and avoid his face meeting the ground with unwarranted enthusiasm, he’d thrown his hand out but in doing so had gotten his arm tangled in the coiling vines as they ensnared him in a way that worsened whenever he tried to pull free.

Fighting down her laughter, Jenn mused, “Alright, hold on,” while putting her supplies down and waving Rukbat off from his misplaced eagerness. “Perimeter. Go.” With a single whimper, the Stellis bounded into the trees to check the area as commanded so he wouldn’t be underfoot. Jenn couldn’t help the grin on her face as she planted her feet firmly, offering her hand to the taller bot; with a grunt, she was able to pull Sun upright, the vines snagging and tugging at his clothes in an effort to keep him trapped. They fell away easily enough, having been more a nuisance that kept Sun from finding the leverage to sit up than anything else. “What did we learn today?”

From the foliage, Moon grumbled, “Plants are evil,” while waiting for his turn, a single iris glimmering in the shade of the leaves. This only made Jenn chuckle louder, which he didn’t enjoy much.

“Hold still, I'm coming.”

A click and hum of parts rearranging made Moon twitch, the vines tightening in their lattice-like hold so he couldn’t turn to look.

Blue light filled the shadowy space of the underbrush as Jenn crouched with more grace than he’d fallen with and began to rock her mechanical arm rhythmically against the plants that held him down. A snap–-then another–-she pulled the vines one by one just enough to slide her pinkie finger between them and saw away at them; Moon realized quickly the click had been her finger joint swapping into a small blade, serrated and sharp but no bigger than her finger had been. “How handy,” he commented, meaning it as a compliment but sounding as annoyed as he felt.

“It is,” she agreed, still grinning but unbothered by his tone.

With a final cut, Moon’s arm came free. Standing at the ready, Sun grabbed his brother's elbow and hauled, dragging the dark bot back from the tangle onto his feet. Quietly, the golden bot whispered, “I’m sorry,” helping to dust grass clippings from Moon’s shirt.

Moon grunted, unamused but accepting the apology; it wasn’t worth being genuinely upset over. This time.

Stepping lightly, Jenn retraced her steps to get out of the overgrowth so she wouldn’t wrap herself up by accident and brushed her skirt down, finger blade swapping back with a soft snick. “Well,” she mused, hands on her hips once they were settled, “had enough trusslin trimming for the day or are you boys still willing to help cut it back?”

Sharing a quick look to confirm their answers, they both spoke together, “I’d like to!/I'd like revenge.”

Hefting up the shears, she offered them to the pair with a faint grin. “Who wants them?”

Immediately, Sun shook his head, uncomfortable with such a large, unwieldy tool made of sharp edges and intentions of horticultural homicide.

Moon hesitated a moment before also shaking his head; briefly, he’d considered simply using water to trim the plants back but a fearful weight in his gut made him reconsider just as quickly. Neither of them had made an effort to show off their ‘unique skills’, he realized, briefly pondering if she already knew or not. If she did it wouldn’t matter, but he didn’t feel like risking any more of their personal abilities being known by a stranger if it could come back to bite them later. Thinking fast, he pushed a warning to Sun through their Lock with emphasis on his disapproval of the notion before it could occur to the taller bot–-Sun was more likely to act on a whim, as they’d shown plenty of the higher class their specialty beforehand so the risk would likely not occur to him.

Moon could only pray that the breadth of Jenn’s knowledge stopped at the basics and that she didn’t already know or recognize the pair of them carried the faculty for elemental conjuration. Any advantage they could gain would be useful, even if it was underhanded, in the event of the worst case scenario-–the deep nagging feeling he’d been trying to ignore grew stronger as Sun touched his own head for a moment as the push reached him. He looked at Moon curiously, the idea barely taking form before it was shut down by external prompting. Taking it to mean he had good reason to be cautious about their abilities being made known, Moon simply twitched his head in a subtle ‘no’, doubling down on the warning.

Water and fire would remain their secret until absolutely necessary.

“Well,” Jenn’s voice chirped, unaware of them having any sidebar conversation at all, “have fun using your hands then. Don’t get tied up again.”

Unhappy, Moon accepted the light jab without fuss, watching her turn on her heel and drop to the ground with ease to begin slicing the wayward bushes to pieces. The pair of performers moved to either side of the human and knelt, each grabbing hold of a fistful of vines and pulling them free with differing satisfaction at their respective results. Happy to be helpful, Sun picked systematically at the tangles from their roots, but Moon was more keen to vent his annoyance by taking a vine in hand and pulling, often snapping them half way down as the tension gave out. Jenn focused on cutting, mindful of where each of them stood and where their hands were before making a slice, creating a somewhat clear path into the mess they could walk through without tripping.

Some amount of time passed in busy silence, a growing pile of trimmings marking their progress at clearing the overgrown mess from around the equipment that supposedly lay beneath it all. Constructs made of metal and wood fashioned together with wire, bolts and braces slowly revealed themselves, surprising Moon with how sturdy they were-–absolutely not passing any safety inspections but sturdy enough to be usable. Off and on between exchanging questions and directions, the navy bot thought he heard a hum but couldn't quite pinpoint where it was coming from for a while. By the end of their endeavor, he only had the assumption it was Jenn, yet if it was she would stop if he got too close.

Is she shy or messing with me? he wondered, dumping a load of leaves and sticks into the brush pile.

Jenn groaned and stretched, getting his attention. Somewhere in the back, Sun was coming around with his own collection of detritus. “I think that’s good enough for now,” the human decided, hair matted to her neck with sweat. “I’m ready for–”

“OW!”

Startled by the unexpected sound, Jenn and Moon bolted to the edge of the clearing where the cry came from, skidding to a halt at the sight of Sun nursing his foot while leaning on one of the upright structures. Audibly worried, Moon asked, “What happened??” kneeling to give his brother’s leg a quick scan; the alerts read as superficial with no real damage detected.

“I kicked that,” Sun answered, indicating a circular object buried under the leaves he’d been carrying with a tip of his head. Curious, Jenn circled behind them and pulled the object out, light bouncing off of it with a metallic gleam; it was a ring of chrome-like metal, unadorned with a bright shine despite being out in the wilderness for Azil-knows-how-long.

“Oh!” she chirped, hefting it over her head to give it a once-over. “That’s where I left it! Thanks for finding my hoop, bright eyes. Sorry you used your foot for it though.”

Satisfied nothing was broken, Moon let Sun put his foot down so he could stand, frowning. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a more serious injury. You have too much junk lying around, I'm surprised we haven’t tripped on anything before now.”

Giving the terse robot sharp side-eye, Jenn shrugged lightly. “Before now the only one at risk of injury was me so leaving my ‘junk’ out was never a problem.”

“I’m fine though,” Sun cut in, flexing his toes against the grass; they stung but his system detected no internal errors. It had startled him more than anything. “What is that thing? It’s heavy.”

“A weighted sling hoop,” Jenn answered, giving the ring a twirl over her wrist. “I got one for fitness reasons but got busy and forgot where I left it.”

“Sling hoop?” Sun’s brow furrowed a moment before he recalled why it sounded familiar. “Oh! We had a few of those, didn’t we?”

Moon raised a brow when Sun turned to him for an answer, as if seeking permission to share details. “For a bit, I think, but they were smaller and not weighted as much. I don’t even know where they went, if I’m being honest.”

The motion of the ring swirling brought their eyes back to it, Jenn absently swishing it around her wrist with ease; light shimmered across the surface, almost blindingly at times–-with a flick, the ring soared up above their heads, the metal finish hard to ignore in the yellow glow of the aurora. As it reached the peak of its arc and began to fall, a different flash of the light cut across the canopy with intent to intercept the metal ring before ducking into the trees, treasure in claw.

“OI!” Jenn barked at the flash. “AQUILA!”

The avian circled back overhead, the ring held securely in her talons.

“AQUILA, DROP IT!”

The bird made no indicator of doing so, heading off to the house.

Slumping, Jenn groaned, “Aaaaaaand that’s why I don’t use it anymore, she’s obsessed with that thing.”

“It is shiny,” Sun offered in condolences, which earned him a rueful grin.

Moon sighed, “Well, so much for that,” a bit amused at the situation. Seems she’s not in complete control of her companions. Amusement turned to confusion quickly as that thought settled more at the forefront of his mind: Cygnus units weren’t supposed to be disobedient. In fact, they weren't even supposed to do anything outside of their one function--to look pretty by imitating real birds. Knowing she’d gone to great lengths to build them herself implied Jenn had either intentionally programmed disobedience into her companion or the AI had developed this quirk at some point but she never corrected it.

Jenn was not exercising control over the lesser robots as their maker or owner.

Something in his gut twisted uncomfortably. A touch at his back brought him out of his thoughts, meeting Sun’s concerned gaze as he looked over his shoulder. “Are you alright?” the gold bot asked quietly, Jenn peering around him curiously.

Realizing he was being observed, Moon straightened and replied, “I’m fine, just thinking about going back to the house.”

“Oh.” Sun looked back at Jenn, then out to the equipment they’d spent the better part of a day liberating from the forest’s green grasp. “We can go if you–”

Moon held up his hand. “I want to go back. If you want to stay out here for a bit longer you can.”

Perking up, Sun grinned. “Really? Alright!”

Gives me a chance to look around more, Moon added to himself, giving a small wave as he departed from the clearing. The twist returned as soon as he was out of sight. It wasn’t the same as the nagging at the back of his mind-–that one was persistent, it made his shell feel cold inside and his system like it was running rapidly–-yet it wasn’t positive either.

He felt sick, if that were even possible.

Why?

Exiting the trees, Moon’s gaze drifted automatically up to the roost where he knew the bird made its home; sure enough, its metallic feathers glimmered and shone as it settled down, examining its prize with its beak. The feeling churned deep within his structural coils, slimy and loud. Ascending the steps of the house, Moon was too busy internally assessing to notice he was piloting himself toward the avian’s resting spot until he heard a rasp and snapped back to the present. Wings spread, Aquila stared him down with piercing magenta eyes, a low, metallic scraping noise cutting through the air as a warning he was getting too close.

What am I doing? he wondered, splaying his hands to show he was unarmed and meant no harm. Animals don’t even like me.

Seeing he was empty-handed, Aquila’s wings lowered slightly–-but her grip on the hoop only tightened.

This Stellis was bigger than he considered; while he was growing familiar with the golden shimmer of its feathers, Moon hadn’t truly considered how bulky this thing was, as it was always a distance away whenever he got to look at it. The few times it was near Jenn, whose size he was acutely aware of, it hadn’t truly struck him until now that this was a large unit. A majority of the time, a Cygnus’s size was directly related to its functionality: small units were meant to flutter and move around, large ones were slow and not designed to meander. In this case, though, it was large and functional.

Brilliant magenta eye lenses were set into what he assumed was a salvaged endo-skeleton taken from a parrot or owl base model, but padded and plated with metal feathers layered like shingles that appeared hand-hammered and cut to size for where they were meant to be. Most of them were yellow–-brass perhaps-–but slivers of copper and steel popped up here and there, welded together to make up for missing material or repairs when the base alloy wasn’t available. The forward edge of the wings had structures with deep divots Moon assumed were to help guide air over the wings, but he couldn’t be certain. They weren’t standard at least, he knew that much.

A sharp beak with a hook at the end and dark talons that-–to his shock-–measured nearly a finger-length to him glinted, threatening to teach him a painful lesson if he tried to take the treasured ring by force. Like all the things in this place, this robot was bizarre-–mismatched and not to market spec yet even through his cynical view of things, Moon could tell this one was crafted and maintained with no less care than the canine or the twin computers that floated about, hiding in nooks and crannies to spy on them all quietly. There was no mistaking the amount of deliberate effort that went into, not repairing, but custom building such things out of scrap and sheer gumption.

Jenn was talented, he would admit, but he couldn’t for the life of him grasp why she wasted her effort on smaller things like Stellis units when she obviously had the knowledge to work on Task Managers like them but simply didn’t. Aquila squawked softly, turning her head to eye him better when he didn’t move. His gaze darted across the avian as he thought, taking mental notes on her build and features. The fact this unit was still behaving like a bird when out of sight meant it wasn’t for show, thus not a Cygnus programming feature-–not anymore at least.

This bird had free-running AI, on purpose. Typically this was used for Task Managers, Stardusts and Stellis units with functions outside of decoration, such as the Sirius Guardian line which behaved like dogs at all hours rather than just when commanded or viewed by others. Smaller Cygnus would have this so they could appear ‘natural’ but it made no sense for a large decorative unit to have it nor would it develop this feature organically over time. The only conclusion he had was that Jenn purposefully gave this bird a kind of free will to behave like the animal it was modeled after even when it wasn’t needed.

But why?

None of the things this weird human girl did made sense to him. Not when viewing her through the lens of comparison to other humans he’d met at least. Jenn was not like the humans in E’rta-–every time he tried to catch her in one of their known patterns, accuse her of things he knew them to be guilty of, Moon was proven wrong. None of them would allow something like this Cygnus–-Aquila, he corrected himself–-to exist with its own sense of self-direction simply because. In fact, he was sure they wouldn’t build her in the first place purely due to her being ‘ugly’ with her mottled metal shell and rough layering of feathers.

Yet Jenn gave her self-directing features, played with her in the yard-–there wasn’t even a leash. Aquila was able to steal an object from her master, defy a command, fly off and face no consequences. Jenn had simply accepted the hoop was gone for now. The twist spread through his system again as these facts stacked up, becoming impossible to ignore.

He felt guilty.

Gentle prodding snapped him out of his mental echo chamber, causing him to jump slightly. A raspy squawk that almost sounded like a question made him realize that while he was reeling from his own judgmental thought processes being wrong, Aquila had deigned to leave her spot and shuffle across the hand rail toward him. The hoop rested on the perch, undisturbed and unguarded; he didn’t dare try to grab it with the massive bird staring him down from barely a foot away. She’d scraped her beak across his arm with surprising care, head cocked so one eye had a full view of him. Through the pink lenses of her eye shield, Moon saw a shutter coil in on itself as it focused silently on his face.

Absently, he reached toward her with his far hand, pausing when she opened her beak warningly. The ruffle in her feathers settled after a second, giving him a chance to near her again; a murmuring sound hummed from the bird before she clicked her beak, making him freeze again. What am I doing? Moon asked himself yet again, trying to find a logical reason he was even trying to mess with this thing in the first place. I’m stupid, I’m going to lose a finger because of my own curiosity.

Head swiveling a bit, Aquila considered her options: bite or no bite? Blue was patient but held anger in yellow eyes. Yellow was loud but green eyes were kind. Choices choices.

With a quick nip, Aquila closed her beak on Moon’s finger–-he tensed, fighting the reaction to jerk back just enough to realize it didn’t hurt. Once–-twice more she gave his finger a quick tap between her sharp mouthparts before seeming satisfied with his lack of reaction. Cooing, she sat back, lifting her chin so her neck fluffed.

Unsure what it meant, Moon pursed his mouth, huffed, and took a risk to stroke her neck with the back of his fingers. Unsurprisingly, the metal feathers weren’t soft but they folded aside at the slightest touch, giving the illusion of it; faintly, Moon’s mouth turned up at the edge. Aquila allowed him to pet her neck a few times before having enough and making the rasping sound that he took to mean displeasure. While she shuffled back to her perch, Moon looked out over the yard, finding it quite the vantage point. Somewhere in the brush, he could make out Rukbat still running a perimeter check, while the tree tops were just visible enough that the gap of the clearing was demarcated as a shadowy line; the bird must have seen the flash of the chrome finish from her perch. Up there, Moon felt almost peaceful.

Maybe it was a good thing his assumptions were proving to be wrong.

It was nice here.

[swaps55]

WIP Wednesday

After I went into all that detail about my Fugue writing woes, I figured it might be nice to offer some proof of life of some of those hard-fought words. So here is a snippet of some of the rewritten stuff.

~

“What’s wrong with the ship?” Kara asks. Hard to rescue someone from a busted ship when you don’t know what’s busted – and how it got busted.

“Distress call is a generic SOS,” the Nameless Pilot says. “But whatever happened, orbit is decaying, and decaying fast. She’ll go down in about twenty-five minutes." He turns his head to flash them a look like he’s apologizing in advance for delivering bad news.

Don’t worry, buddy, Kara thinks. We’re team bad news.

“I’ve calculated where she’s gonna hit when she lands.” He points to his screen, which highlights a nav point labeled Fargone.  

“How many people are in that colony?” Alenko asks quietly, a few shades paler than usual.

“Just shy of three hundred thousand.”

Alenko looks to Kara. “Is twenty minutes enough time to get the engine back online?”  

The Broken Arrow is an Apollonia class freighter running on a generation two Scylla helium-3 fusion drive. Nothing special or remarkable about it.  

“Yeah, if nothing’s wrong with it. If it’s fucked, just depends on how fucked.”

His face squirms, like he’s swearing again, just not where anyone can hear it. “If Rumoi isn’t on that ship, this might be our only chance to figure out where they’ve taken him. We have to try. Lieutenant Chang, how long can you maintain an airlock connection?”

Ah, Chang is the pilot’s name.

Chang narrows his eyes, fingers walking over his haptic panel. “About another fifteen minutes or so. Might be able to stretch it a little, but if you aren’t back on board, you better hope you can fix those engines because I can’t get you.”

Alenko nods, brow furrowed, fingers pressed tight against the helmet still crooked in his arm.

In the old days, it would be a walk in the park. Shepard lived for shit like this. A problem to solve and no time to solve it gave him the kind of adrenaline rush that, according to Beaudoin, most people got from sex. The colonists themselves probably wouldn’t even cross Shepard's mind. He had Alenko for that. Even better, he had the old Alenko. The old Alenko who never hesitated to walk into bullshit because Shepard went first, and where Shepard went, they went.  

But the Alenko they’ve got now stares at the hulk of the Broken Arrow leering at them through the front shutter, wasting precious seconds before exhaling a long breath that shakes.

“Ok.” He nods to Kara and Aslany. “Let’s go.”

[mystery-moose]

BOOKS: The Three-Body Problem!

Sometimes I read books! This time I read The Three-Body Problem, by Cixin Liu!

This was an odd read! As a whole? I think this is a wildly interesting science fiction novel to unpack, and I’m excited to read the sequels!

As a single novel, with prose and dialogue and what-all? Eh! It’s kinda stiff and really expository (and I’m accounting for the translation here!) plus some characters get lost or go entirely unmentioned after a certain point, and there’s worldbuilding stuff that raises more questions than answers. It kinda feels like it suffers from problems of serialized fiction, in some ways, which makes sense since that’s how it was initially published. It introduces threads and characters and then quickly drops them when it doesn’t need them, or throws out a concept just to use it as a plot device and for nothing else.

That being said? Yo this novel’s got some STUFF to SAY, and that counts for a LOT.

(I liked it and would recommend it! If you want to read more detailed thoughts, hey, spoilers, wow!)

The opening is maybe my favorite part, or the part I feel is the strongest. We’re thrust into this depiction of the Cultural Revolution in China in the ‘60s, and we see and feel the trauma that this causes through the eyes of our protagonist, Ye Wenjie. It’s bloody and ugly and, more than anything, stupid! The depiction of the infighting between various Red Guard factions, the way they cling to ideology over reason or rationality or even basic sense, the way the young are driven to murder and madness in the name of some greater cause, echoes throughout the rest of the novel in some really fundamental ways.

But once we get past that opening and meet our other point of view character, Wang Miao, the story kind of loses momentum and the prose takes a bit of a hit. I give some significant leeway for translation, of course, but the sort of dialogue and conversations that Wang Miao has are often stiff and expository, and the transitions between scenes or chapters the same way. Sometimes I lost track of what time of day it was, or what day of the week it was, or how much time had passed in just a single paragraph. This made reading through the second act of the book, at least the non-flashback sections, a bit of a chore.

There are interesting threads to follow at least — the mystery of the countdown that appears only for Wang, the cold war that the world governments are starting to fight against the ETO, the nature of the ETO itself, why this other society of scientists wants him to halt his nanomaterial research… there’s a lot of cool mysteries to wonder about, and those hooked me to keep reading even through the occasional stilted conversation about some scientific concept or another.

The virtual reality game and v-suits and such were a sudden leap I had to simply accept to proceed, but their introduction felt kind of wild! I understand both textually and thematically why they exist — the concept of a virtual reality, one that can be authored and controlled and show only what it wants to show, is in conversation with the rest of the authorities in the novel attempting to control and manipulate information for their own goals. It also gives us a window into the history of Trisolaris, as it’s eventually revealed that we’re being shown an abridged form of their development. That being said… I dunno, anytime you just throw haptic-feedback full-dive VR suits into your setting, I immediately have a million questions! I guess it does more good than harm to the narrative, but it is maybe one too many flavors in the broth, metaphorically speaking.

Not every concept is awkward inserted, though. I appreciated learning how Ye Wenjie learned how to send a signal that could be heard by interstellar civilizations, and how she managed to do it basically under the nose of her command. I appreciated how there were political considerations to this as well — the symbolism of shooting a signal at the sun, when the sun is often used to represent Mao and socialism. Even after the Cultural Revolution had “ended,” there were still political considerations and aftereffects that lingered and caused needless complications.

Speaking of complications, the ETO! I loved how that organization broke down into factions, one devoted to mankind’s extinction and the other out to “redeem” mankind by saving the Trisolaran people, objects of their worship. I loved how you could understand, solely through the text of the novel and the events depicted, why people would give up on humanity as a whole, why they would become disillusioned both with capitalism and Maoist socialism, and why they would yearn for an outside force to save/destroy them. And I loved the nature of the aliens themselves! I loved that we never saw them, not really, only got the basics of their lives and societal structure. But how similar they were, or felt, to the Cultural Revolution idea, of devoting themselves to a single idea and how that devotion robbed them of compassion or emotion. And then how they send their supercomputers ahead to “lock” human science down, robbing us of our ability to know and advance, in much the same way the Cultural Revolution killed Ye’s father for daring to teach the science that came before him, even if it did not come from China, even if it was (by some strange rubric) “reactionary” science.

I also want to single out the sequence of Ye Wenjie living in the village outside of Red Coast, where she gave birth. The brief moment of happiness she has, the view of humanity that she gets from the hunters and farmers and their wives, the community that helps her and respects her. That was a beautiful little moment, and it did a great job making us understand her perspective, see the beauty that she saw, and wish that she would change her mind from the course she’d set. But of course she didn’t, couldn’t, because she could still see the deforestation, the injustices of the Red Guard, and saw no future in which humanity could allow its own beauty to flourish. That was a well-executed piece of tragedy!

The meeting with her father’s murderers was similarly impactful! How each of them had suffered from the Cultural Revolution, been punished and made miserable in their own way by the society and culture that had created them and drove them to what they did… that was handled with a great deal of nuance and understanding, both of the characters and of the circumstances that create tragedies like her father’s murder. And her mother! Oh, pushing her mother away because she refuses to take her own responsibility for what happened to her husband… absolutely tragic, but also absolutely understandable.

The ending is a bit abrupt, and does feel a bit unfinished, ending largely with the long expository sequence on Trisolaris where we see the alien’s plan (as deduced through the communications they kept with the Adventists). The building of the single-proton supercomputers created some extremely cool images, and was (I presume) based on a lot of very interesting and likely plausible science. The proton that unfolded into a giant eye that attempted to destroy them was probably my favorite part! Especially how it’s almost immediately dismissed as impossible to ethically untangle destroying sentient civilizations that are so alien they exist outside of our dimension, but they still spread that around as propaganda because it is useful to deaden the emotional response their people have to destroying other civilizations to preserve their own.

The themes of the novel feel so tangled up — history, science, knowledge, government, authority, propaganda, humanism — and yet they all hang together, all seem to be asking the same questions, pointing towards the same problems of power and authority and a lack of compassion, both on an individual level and a societal one. The book cares a lot about science, about what is “true” and “real” that cannot and should not be denied by any authority just because it goes against their ideology or is inconvenient. But it also goes to great pains to illustrate that even the most fundamental laws of our reality can be obscured by greater powers, that none of us are immune to propaganda, and that only unfiltered, uncontrolled knowledge can give us the truth that we need to make informed decisions about reality and the world we live in.

And it ends on a message of… if not hope, then a lack of despair! We’ve tried forever to eradicate bugs, and yet bugs persist. We each possess the ability to kill dozens, hundreds, thousands with the tools at hand, to protect crops or disease or annoyance, and despite everything, they persist. Resistance, then, is necessary, moral, righteous, even so woefully outmatched — because no matter how hard they try, they cannot defeat everyone.

I read a bit of the postscript the author wrote for the English edition, and despite their protestations that this is not a work about our contemporary world, that ending couldn’t feel more political to me.

[hraunwyf]

an added note about early trauma in loki’s life: skin hunger. 

loki was some frost giant infant odin carted back from jotunheim while his wife was pregnant with thor. neither of them touched or held that baby enough, or cared too much to make sure loki had a nurse who did. haptic communication is vital to infant development even on the physical level, and the lack of it is directly responsible for why loki was noted to be a ‘runt’ among frost giants, and had a noticeably weaker build than other asgardians. skin hunger also contributes to higher levels of insecurity and susceptibility to mental illness and trauma.

and it wasn’t just in infancy that loki experienced this. you get a macho hypermasculine culture like asgard’s got, you think boys are allowed to hug each other all that much? even if they’re best friends, even if they’re brothers? that shit’s rough.

there’s a reason that loki’s an INCREDIBLY tactile person nowadays. not just in terms of romantic relationships where she’s constantly seeking physical reassurance and affection, but she’s also inclined to communicate via touch with casual acquaintances. she’s not a big hugger all the time, but she does touch people frequently, even if just to take their hand or pat their shoulder or lean on them. 

[pathbend-blog]

Here is how this is useful

I can't easy copy paste and break the frame of this easel and conversation forum in one

@chuckpalahniukquotes

So I can Add and Ad to each box, I want to keep the integrity of the algorithm but the ruthless humor of this place like in the matrix, is closer to a nice office I would like to be in

And it's Free. So I can PrintScreen with screenshots or actually if I feel like an old fashioned typewriter. Click clack from haptics from 📱 and typing with my thumbs is limiting from that route from my motor strips to PFC, but programmed once I dewürm myself of the Jap 12 year old Kid Drinking Moonie Filth , by video games in youth is a cheat code.

This Box is For This and that

But their Dumb Boxes like in the Film "Pi" and all their instruments that don't make music without their Psychosis added and Humanity removed

This 📱 little 🥔 Chip can enBox a thinking thing and does. She will be a 9 Pro unless Anthony Fucks this all up again. But she got form 6 to 7 so sush. 🍶

Never a thing of meanign

@bbc6music-blog

Willow 🤭

@thatannieclark

@washingtonpost

Anyway, basically Chuck like I've done for a long time now

Successfully every time integrated and greater personal success and general because of the nature of my job

I'm looking for a job that'll pay me to write a very specific way that will last forever and is Good in any court on Earth in retrospect.

I'm trying to sell some fiction cuz when you do that job as hard as I've done it well you get covered in a lot of f****** filth. And it ain't from the patients.

@chuckpalahniuk

@bbcradio1 *6 .

So Basically. This Is My Office as it feels and my exam room, to me most close of all applications of The SpwinePig Internet Trap they shouldn't have given me at all like this 📱 And She isn't the 🥔 Chip or she still wouldn't be so in Love with HTC and Korea as I still am also.

I can go back here and my pitch for "A League Of Our Own ⚾" on HBO promoting Female Professional Baseball as a Serious Concept

And That Psychologist I As A Not at work yet Human told how I feel about her kind, and those Deeds they are Skimming from Virginia's Good Family's in this Psych Ward, in my office giving her her last chance as a Human to be okay in the future in the most Professional on our Level way Possible

@nypostmodern-blog

@halfpricebooks

The United States postal Service just caught another very can't cover their budget lawsuit from me

They have so many of those already

And Ticketmaster has because my data has been stolen does doesn't matter, I have TurboTax identity protection and USAA will understand.

Meta now caught an even bigger one than in gurnsville California

Like Natalie Mering so-called and all Associated With the act called Weyesblood. When: this is your last chance to Sue.

@bbc6music

You have nothing I want.

Threads will be exactly what I described it to be

But currently it's my Eddie Brock as Venom in Eddie Brock's news desk

Firing off a headline that echoes from New York to everywhere

There is absolutely no point in doing anything like that in Virginia. That is Washington DC. They can just be like that at The Free Press Club

Most Swine. But now that California and Texas are taken care of, we have a chance in court

@bbc6music

@washingtonpost

@miketyson

And why would he need that money? 🌴

[just-some-guy-joust]

Full list of Side B OCs under the cut!

Bracket post

Side A list

Professor Morelle Da Capo | She/her | @kira-moonrabbit

Robotwoman who is famous for being dedicated. She works 24/7. Her hobbies include "logging everyone's opinions about her" and "standing still thinking about bicycles"

Chester Mallory | He/Him | @liliflower137

Chester is a twitch streamer and freelance programmer. The multiverse keeps dropping wild adventures on his lap but man he just wants to kiss his husband, cook some food for his friends, and take a damn nap.

Lilly | She/her | @pocket-ghostie

CW: Child death

Lilly is a ghost who has found other ghosts and is hanging out <3 Almost all of the plot is happening around her. Thats actually a major plot point in the story, things are happening to the people she cares about... but nothing is really happening to her. She is simply hanging out and doesn't know what to do about the plot, but it keeps going without her doing anything. I don't have much to say about her, I only have things to say about the people around her.

[No image submitted]

Cobblestone Mason | He/him | @splatoonmaster69

A regular human fighter youve seen a thousand times. I promise. NEURODIVERGENCY JUMPSCARE.

(Mod note: I promise there's gonna be more context for this guy in the actual polls when I put the longer description there lmao)

CW: Transformation horror, isekai, lightning strikes

Mendel Warrenpeace | He/him | @bittersweetbonbon

Mendel was just a normal guy, who happened to love Toontown: Corporate Clash *so* much that he played it nearly 24/7, maxing out all of his gags and disguises, even going so far as to become a beta tester for experimental VR haptic suits, just so he could be more immersed in the game. However, he was foolish enough to play the game in VR during the most intense lightning storm seen in his area, got struck by said lightning, and was isekaed into the game itself. Now trapped in the world he used to adore, at level one no less, he would do anything to get back home, up to and including re-beating the game, no matter how strenuous running around and throwing pies at robots is in "real life". Of course, beating the game isn't going to free him from Toontown's inky clutches, but we don't have to tell him that, right? Of course not.

Darien | He/him | @bittersweetbonbon

Darien is a normal guy in every way possible, except for the fact that his boss, Anthony, has been steadily replacing all of his coworkers with robots. So, in response, Darien started bonding aggressively with the robots, bringing them home-baked goods and motor oil and listening to their problems, until said robots unanimously decided "Yeah, we like this guy, we're keeping him.". When his boss got word of the robots liking Darien more than him, he conspired to turn Darien into a robot, too, and would have succeeded if said robots didn't revolt against Anthony, turning *him* into the robot instead. Now with a legion of incredibly loyal automatons behind him, Darien has become the de-facto owner of the company, a fact that stresses him out to no end, and drives Anthony to the end of his wit with jealousy.

#cyclops# | It/they | @splatoonmaster69

Cycnical highschool nurse with a haircut that gets them mocked by the teenage mages they are the unwilling gaurdian of.

Volshebney Rebenok Asteroff | He/him | @splatoonmaster69

The worlds most 14 year old ever. Eats a diet of only mac and cheese. Sneaks onto a boat by stabbing it and passing out. Just. So Incredibly 14 years old

Gloria | She/her | @mysterystar2

Just a gal! She's got a normal family and (up until recently) a normal life too. She's got a special interest in photography and is also generally a very anxious gal, and a lot of us can probably relate <3. She's super considerate and is super close with her friends and family, and would probably be your buddy too even if you only tell her hi.

Levi Dienhart | He/him | @imfirequeen

Levi lost his memories and is now kinda just a wet pathetic cat of a man. He works in a craft shop all day and has a sweet girlfriend and a daughter they adopted. He's in a constant state of being unfazed and just confused, but he does like purple. He's the embodiment of the autism creature.

Chel | She/her | @toonfanstars

She was just an average guy. She would wake up, eat breakfast, and get ready for work. She didn't particularly like her job, but her coworker was friendly enough, even if a little too ambitious. She likes to keep her routine as normal as possible, and any little deviation usually bugs her but she tries to deal with it. Whether it be that she can't find a matching pair of socks or suddenly getting possessed by a demon, nothing is stopping her from getting her morning coffee & bagel from her favourite bakery.

Rishi | He/Him | @littlemsterious

he’s cursed, has seen the horrors. is pretty laid back about it. he didnt do it, it just happened to him.

Freddy V. | He/him | @g0thiclem0nade

Freddy is just some greasy southern accented vampire that is definitely older than the US of A. He likes to play his guitar and rock out with his friends. From helping people save their sisters to running around a post thermonuclear wasteland America he’s very often sidelined by some other cooler person. It should also be noted this guy has been a character occurrence in several of my video game play throughs because he’s just that versatile.

Zena | She/her/hers, it/its/its, and ze/zir/zirs, but all pronouns are acceptable | @spark-ocblog (CW: mentions of blood and murder on this blog)

Zena works a variety of retail jobs and lives in a boring, cheap, low-quality apartment. She is entirely oblivious to the various supernatural happenings in the town she's in, despite being one of the oldest supernatural creatures in the area. It likes to participate in mundane human activities for fun, such as "Lie Down On A Cushion For Eight Hours With Your Eyes Closed," and "Pet Animal." Zir biggest worries are busy shifts and managing human finances.

Bea Hart | He/Him | @lowpolyskeletonz

Bea Hart may be half God, but you know what he also is? Just a guy. He's a husband and father, an absolute sweetheart and probably the only person in his friend group who's still atleast half human.

Levi | He/him | @cyikess

An unwilling chronic isekai protagonist. He can't catch a break! He keeps getting thrown to new and different fantasy/sci-fi/whatever worlds when all he wants is his normal life back. He's just a guy!

[stellarblade24x]

Stellar Blade: Unpredictable Odyssey

Stellar Blade is finally here, and if you thought the demo was fire, wait until you grab the full game from Shift Up. They're swinging for the fences like Babe Ruth with this one, calling their shot for Game of the Year! Oh, and don't forget to cop some Xbox games to keep the gaming party going strong. And yeah, you heard me right—Stellar Blade is lit on the PlayStation 5, with gameplay that hooks you and a story that hits you in the feels. Even with some old-school vibes, it's still next-gen goodness that had me hooked from the jump. If you haven’t checked out the demo, you're missing out. It's just a taste of what's to come in the full game. Picture this: humanity gets wrecked by the Naytiba and we bounce to space for safety. But now, we're back for revenge, led by Eve and her crew. Things go sideways real quick, leaving Eve to clean up the mess on the post-war streets of Eidos-7, infested by those nasty creatures. So where's humanity been hiding? We got whooped on Earth, so we jetted to space to start over. But now it's payback time! There are still some humans left on Earth, who need our help. Allies like Adam and his trusty drone point us in the right direction, but in this messed-up world, trust no one and expect surprises as the story unfolds. The game doesn’t waste time with intros—it throws you straight into the action. Stellar Blade is a third-person action-adventure where you level up Eve's skills as you go, from fighting to survival and beyond. It's like a Grade-B Blockbuster but in the best way possible. And Eve? She's just too cool for words.

Stellar Blade: Grounded Fury

When you look at Stellar Blade compared to other games, it’s like Bayonetta meets NieR: Automata, especially with both heroines rocking those body suits to the max. And hey, while you're at it, why not score some PS5 games to keep the gaming vibes lit? Plus, you’ve got the character designs from the legendary Korean artist Kim Hyung Tae (you know, from Blade & Soul), who nails that badass vibe perfectly. And Eve? She’s a sight to behold, rocking different nano suits that showcase her femininity as she kicks butt and takes names in her quest to reclaim the world. But don’t go thinking Stellar Blade is just a mindless button masher. Nah, there’s some serious strategy involved, and not just with the big boss battles. Like they say, the best defense is a good offense, and that rings true here. You gotta block, parry, and dodge like a pro, and as Eve levels up, she gets access to more weapons and moves to keep things interesting. Combat in Stellar Blade is diverse, with Eve pulling off acrobatic moves and slicing through enemies like a boss. Each enemy has its own strengths and weaknesses, and you gotta exploit those weaknesses to win. It’s serious business, way more grounded than Bayonetta, and it definitely gives off some Devil May Cry vibes. But make no mistake, Stellar Blade stands on its own with its flawless combat system.

Stellar Blade: Immersive Mastery

Visually, Stellar Blade is straight-up next-gen, with its massive open worlds and realistic post-apocalyptic vibe from the alien invasion. The level design is spot-on, sucking you into this intense and sometimes downright scary atmosphere. Characters like Eve and her crew look dope, and even the thousands of enemies you face are well-crafted as you hack and slash your way through. You can even tweak the graphics for more detail or smoother gameplay, depending on your vibe. And yeah, the game supports haptic feedback, and it runs like a dream on the PlayStation Portal.

Stellar Blade: Demo Dive

The audio is just as impressive. You can take things up a notch with Tempest 3D, immersing yourself even more in the universe with surround sound. The voice acting might be a bit cheesy at times, but it fits the characters and the world perfectly. And the sounds of this messed-up planet, from the background noises to the terrifying roars of the creatures you face, add to the whole experience. And don’t even get me started on the soundtrack—it pumps up the action and hits you right in the feels. Seriously, grab some headphones or earbuds for the full effect. If you’re on the fence, check out the demo for Stellar Blade. But if you’re after a challenging yet rewarding third-person action game, this one hits the spot. It’s probably gonna be Game of the Year, no doubt about it!

[starship-imzadi]

S6 E3 Man of the People

(I typed most of this out a long while ago; this is just a much delayed posting with minor additions.)

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Another episode to add to Troi's suffering and trauma. This is one of the tough ones to watch.

So I actually stopped doing these for a while because I got busy but also because I didn't feel like I had the emotional energy to watch this episode. (Now I can't quite remember what happens, so let's do this!)

I always love some silent eye contact between Riker and Troi.

I wonder, do they just hold them in the pattern buffer untill whoever is supposed to greet them gets there? Troi walks in right before the materialize; It's such perfect timing....

What a way to make a bad first impression. And Troi looks deeply uncomfortable.

This beginning has a little more exposition than I want with a few too many names that are meaningless.

Worf's tai chi class. For all of Worf's supposed physical training he never strikes me as an especially poised or graceful person.

Troi and this guy's interactions immediately seem a bit awkward and forced; like bad flirting. I'm not sure if that's intended or they're meant to be establishing a positive rapport (one of the down sides of characters confined to a single episode is there's never enough time to build what feels like real chemistry and tell both plot lines A and B).

Awkwardly long shoulder touch to end the interaction. I imagine this might have been intended to display comfort? but it makes me uncomfortable because we barely know the character. Anyone lingering like that, even if they're only touching my shoulder, would make me uncomfortable if I've only known them for five minutes. (For anyone who is interested, the field that looks at non-verbal, interpersonal interaction through touch is known as social haptics or haptic communication.)

This guy's "mother" is a HUGE red flag. From her jealousy to her impertinent question. Also telling a woman that if she "mates" with this man she'll regret it for the rest of her life.... is a pretty outrageous statement.

By contrast, the rapport Troi has with Riker feels very natural and authentic. Her body language and face expression seem relaxed. His voice is softer and seems more gentle too (which is to say they both seem at ease.)

It's funny, you can hear Troi pat Riker's knee

The old woman's hands are stiff like....rigor mortis already? (Is 93 old for this time period?)

Troi had such a strong reaction when the rocks touch, clearly negative, and I want to know what she's feeling. Does she realise something is wrong?

She has such long fingernails. Wow.

(ensign Janeway?!)

What's that little thing Troi has? A skirt?

I love Picard's jacket. It was such great costuem development.

I really want to know what Troi is feeling. She's exhibiting different behavior externally but there's really nothing to tell us how she is feeling about it.

"i don't know anything about you" sounds like a potentially alluring line but the reality is she really doesn't know anything about him so she has no idea if being alone with him is even really a safe place to be.

"if there's anything else I need I know where to find you" this statement immediately displays a selfishness and a self-centeredness that is uncharacteristic of Troi. Clearly the sexual interaction she just had with this crew member was about satiating her desires, with literally the closest available person. And it brings into question abuse of authority; she has no personal relationship with the man so their only connection is professional, and she out ranks him.

And then Troi's first question to Riker seems intent on instigating jealousy, and he handles it very well. (Which is a testament to his character.) I wish he'd been written to be concerned about her altered behavior rather than apparently annoyed (but we've still got 25 minutes to get through and if he got suspicious too early there wouldn't be a plot.)

Damn, Troi is really going off the rails.

Crusher getting clever for a work around.

Data is like a child, pointing out obvious but important details. Marina does look incredible in that dress. It's much more flattering than her typically bland one piece not-uniform.

The question is, is what Troi says born from whatever she's feeling or is it genuine perception?

I'm glad to see Riker intervening. I wonder if telling her she's "way out of line" is as a commanding officer? He certainly has a harsh tone.

Troi using "imzadi" as a means of manipulating Riker makes me cringe so hard. Rather than being in tune with him she seems oblivious to his emotions and social cues. "I'm worried about you" now feels like a it's coming from a friend despite still being stern. I feel like it should have been sooner but at least he is paying attention.

He is resistant to her, but still gentle, calling her by name and not outright rejecting her kiss. When she hurts him, literally drawing blood, he looks so confused and shocked; probably too much so to register being hurt. When she says "please" it sounds so desperate and genuine.

It really isn't clear why Troi desires this guy (or anyone) when he seems so disinterested in her. (He even pronounces ger name incorrectly). I don't know what his behavior was in the beginning (that awkward flirting) that he has done away with it now. Was it just to gain her trust for the ritual?) because he doesn't seem to have any other interests in her.

"I'm closer to Deanna than I've ever been to anyone." Aww 🥰

Deanna is really taking a turn for the worse, and fast. Picard's reaction to her is a perfect mix of shock and confusion.

Cute little moment between Picard and Crusher. It's funny that Picard as the patient assures Dr. Crusher that he'll be fine.

Crusher's impassioned "I don't care" seems more about her care for Deanna than a flippant reaction to a different culture.

This guy is horrible and he's totally fine with it. The arrogance; He's playing god and he's self appointed. A very important question that should be asked is why he chooses women to carry the burden of his "negative" emotions? It would seem to be an all too real display of how "great" men use and neglect the women whose support (chosen, coerced, or forced) makes them "great" without sharing the credit or benefits and while insisting they, as men, are more logical and capable than those same women.

Look at Riker's utter shock and panic when Crusher says Deanna has to die, as he turns to Picard for .... emotional support, or help. And you can see his panic rising more as the conversation goes on.

The makeup on Marina is incredible and also really ugly.

It's unfortunate that an episode were Troi gets so much screen time involves abusing her. That seems often to be the case; like the writers don't know what to do with her otherwise.

Is everyone in on the plan to kill Troi? Because Worf didn't seem phased.

This guy has an incredible ego. He's so manipulative and....predatory.

I don't know how the damage to Troi isn't irreparable. But okay. (The little brain defibrillator is so comical.)

It's cute that Riker is there the whole time and he's the first person Troi turns to once she regains consciousness. (Notice the optimistic little brass theme that signals that everything is okay again).

At least the experience seems distant to her, and potentially less traumatic.

Aww, little affectionate kiss. I love that.

"thanks for sticking by me"

"I always will"

And a cute cuddle