#small void from the sewers

[vrispurrs]

Can I introduce to you: Fish

[waokevale]

A continuation of this comic!

Where Krobus stumbles upon a pecular, unconscious entity and things escalate from there.

To explain the events more clearly:

[Due to currently unknown circumstances Dwarf wound up adrift on the small isle beneath the sewer grate. In the meantime, Krobus intended to go on a peaceful walk to the Cindersap forest, but then, he managed to catch sight of something strange on the isle below. When he realizes that what he's seeing is a person, and worse yet, possibly a child, he immediately goes there to investigate. He's very anxious and hoping the being isn't dead, but braves through it and inspects the body closely. Under further examination, he realizes that it is neither a child, nor is it a human. He's confused about what exactly the being is, and feels sympathy towards it...That is until they wake up, get startled by a void spirit right up in their face and kick him away. They try to reach for a bomb in their satchel, realizing quickly their satchel is nowhere to be found. They panic and try to find it, but to no avail. So instead they settle on a hefty rock to hopefully do the trick. With a rush if adrenaline, they manage to pick it up and threaten a stunned Krobus with it. He immediately becomes scared and pleads them not to hurt him. His voice and demeanor make Dwarf realize that it's just him and not an actual threat. Yet as they try to lower down the rock, they discover, that their arms are locked in place from its weight. Their arms begin to feel heavy as they realize just how spent they are. In their struggle, they accidentally drop it on their head, which instantly knocks them out and injures them further. They land in Krobus' arms as he sits there, frozen and horrified of what he's just witnessed. ]

What happens from this point on? Who knows ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[mishy-mashy]

Bruce is actually really attractive, and I have enough reasoning to make a list

He's:

Tall (. Tall enough to hit his head on the vault doorframe)

Long-legged

Has a straight nose bridge

Has high cheekbones (more noticeable in 2nd pic below)

Has a strong jawline

Sharp eyes, but they aren't small (plus eyebags if you're into that)

Overall, he has strong, attractive facial features

Has broad, refined shoulders. You can tell he works out (or he did, when he was alive)

Even has a thick, muscly neck

He has MUSCLE. Is SCULPTED. NOICE. VERY NOICE. (nice arms. Nice shoulders. Nice neck. Nice legs. Nice butt-)

(There are actually panels where you can see some of his muscles. Other than those already shown here, he's got bricky thighs-

-and in the panels where we first get his name dropped, he's got those shoulder blades too-)

The one time we see him smile, and he actually has a scary one

Has small, kinda sharp pupils, and his eyes remind me of a cat. We only ever saw him tense or defensive, so his resting/listening face is really cute

Other than the physical appearance stuff, he also:

Takes shit without batting an eye (patience, knowing it's just how Kudo is, etc)

Kudo being all "Cut the crap Bruce and give it to me straight", after Bruce tests his blood and is rightfully Concerned because they just faced AFO

Put up with Kudo's experimenting and testing over Yoichi's transferable Factor

Did ya'll see the look on Kudo's face when he realized he had Yoichi's Factor/will? Kudo was going to start in nonsense and Bruce just dealt with that.

Also something I noticed when looking back at the images here; Bruce has bandages on his arms in the void. But not when he faced AFO in the sewers.

Were he and Kudo cutting their arms open in their experimenting over Yoichi's theory? Is this why Kudo has two gauntlets instead of his one? Why we never see his bare arms in the void? That he always keeps his arms down so there's no slip?

Is smart enough to run blood tests, plus has enough common sense to pick Shinomori as his successor

He picked a guy who avoids society, has an Ability to detect danger so he can always stay away from AFO, is also a coward so he's never going to go throw himself into danger, even without knowing instinctively he stands no chance, etc.

Meanwhile, Kudo chose Bruce, who he played Hot Potato Yoichi with; but he did also trust Bruce, and put the only pure combative Ability in OFA through Bruce.

These two made their choices based on what they valued and saw the Factor needed.

Is logical, analytical, and calm.

He tried advising Midoriya on their Abilities in One For All, especially his own.

Midoriya then tried ignoring him about using Fa Jin for the first time, but found he was right, thinking: "Dammit!! I had [Lady Nagant] right where I wanted her, but... ugh! The Third was right. My parallel Quirk processes are all screwed up!" (ch. 314).

Plus, when Midoriya fixed his processing mistakes, Bruce was analyzing the way he reached his new conclusion. Pure facts, no bias, very calm, just saying it as it was.

We never see him panic. When he's caught by surprise in the sewers by AFO, Kudo, and Yoichi's little bubble event, he immediately reacts. He doesn't falter, he just knows he has to do something right now.

Was more willing to listen than Kudo to Yoichi's beckon, and probably was just following Kudo's rejection of Midoriya

While we don't see Kudo's face, we see Bruce's eyes when Yoichi calls on his heroes. Bruce was more open and receptive, or at least more impacted.

Bruce was also the one to start talking, while Kudo just kept quiet.

He actually communicates a lot

When Yoichi called them to support Midoriya, Bruce started talking to paint a picture of why they thought the way they did, so Yoichi understood where they were coming from.

(Though he seems to beat about the bush sometimes, since Kudo spoke up to be direct on how they couldn't just put their trust in some starry-eyed teenager. Plus, when Kudo tells him to just tell him what's wrong [double Factors])

When Midoriya first used Fa Jin against Nagant, Bruce came out just to tell him he knew what he was trying, but that Midoriya wasn't ready; and Midoriya found he was right. Midoriya just didn't want to listen to him then.

He asks Kudo for clarification after finding Kudo had two Factors in him after the sewer incident ("Just to be sure, All For One didn't touch you, right?") Kudo knew him well enough to go "stop beating around the bush and tell me", so Bruce was probably gonna start with questions, theories, and trying to understand everything in general, before saying "yeah you have two Factors. Don't know why".

Is strong-willed and loyal.

He followed Kudo, even to death, carrying on the cause he started until it ended with him.

Plus, when talking about how AFO needs a strong will to override OFA's own, we first see Bruce, Kudo, and Yoichi.

AFO couldn't steal OFA because the will was too strong for him, and that was back during Banjo's time. Since Shinomori never actually tried opposing AFO and just hid, we can assume the first Three (Yoichi, Kudo, Bruce) already had an accumulation of strong willpower that made OFA un-stealable. Those three are a strong enough foundation, and the main wills, that the other users just become bonuses.

Kudo, also saying that Midoriya needs allies with the same will and drive as him... hey Kudo, you're talking about yourself and your old allies, aren't you? That's why you look at Yoichi and Bruce when you say this.

Not only is Bruce attractive, but he's got good character. THE END.

[marrkopolo]

A Wise Man Once Said

Precious lost its ring in the scrap yard with no metal detector the lavender pussywillows hide the trolls

Hong Kong wheel of fate UW spinned it first Knights of Templar slaughtered at a mass concert of bloody crimson tide

Tithe on a full moon for 2x the glee The crash of waves against the rocks, like bodies slapping against each other during sex blood shooting through veins Hot heat, sticky, in Iceland together I too, know of these lands

Tax season says the King! blue knots on a tent red food buckets hung like death #four crosses in a foreign land alone is no place to exist

An underwater welder lying on the blue tarp, is like a union of troops led by a zebra.

Flying flags at Disney welcome to the world of water failed regret, emptiness and betrayal tattered flags get left to rot sew it in with the others together and the quilt becomes strong and scintillating

Crush you with your own history headless horseman and halo hair dark horse donuts This is as good as it gets!

Red-lipped lipstick cracked porcelain face You can't hold a candle to this

King of the Hill My pool stick is clean now true Kings swim in the swimming pool together King of the Hill Jack of Spades went with the stolen crown and robots learn to volunteer.

Pledge to a sanitizer salute to a gong beat your chest it's loud and strong Love at first sight or sounds like a good idea Wisdom of the crowd or individual motivation?

A rabbi with the yachts Fortified lamps sees all UFOs, telekinesis and even explosive lingerie. One denarius for a days work Why they get more? Stand while another sits. Then switch roles and you'll see why.

What sees with three eyes? The melatonin-like parental bond, third eye awoken, Moksha.

Insane Luke has a scar red dots that kill. Baldie takes biosphere crown the bald animal is cutting loose again Is doraphilia still fun to you?

I attempt to transform but the tea is too strong my hands have small heart Lying down a tiny raindrop falls into my ear swirling into the cochlea My whole world has changed!

Eczema stealing make-up twice North Face go north Racks of weapons are not enough this time

My mask is old but gold bars had paved my fortunate path …a fortunate path(whispering)

Tik Tok vault one exit is enough The eagle has docked into spray-painted madness. Not to fret I hear a falcon cry Jump when the law is bent it will help you fly

Six shooter Six pack 3 sewers 3 fires Twin-spirit 1 spacesuit

Mountain top king of the hill climb Nepal Hajj pilgrimage princess climbs like a pirate piggyback down the wedding aisle

Opposites attract

One fell to its doom down the abyssal void towards the bottom and a ghost ship lost in the Bermuda Triangle with Pandoras Box Lazarus

Gunpowder in shoes Footprints in the sand Jesus did not tap

Short and tall fat and thin Lookalikes Soundalikes Smellalikes the hunt of touch and taste What double currencies create the ultimate Yin Yang effect? AI said to cure pride and competition, exchange abacus rubik-cubed calculators instead of cash.

Echoes and reverberation voices become lightning WATTS= AMPS X VOLTS

Float your payloads into the troposphere with skinny vertical structures of contained saltwater Heat a planet with a satellite asteroid belt

A call for help QR codes morse code gun flare smoke signal what are your coordinates? R-E-B-O-R-N

Some ancients say gunpowder only made flee then gun made to kill Oil spills from bronze age to silicon chips flood the market cut the mall castle cake in half Zangief on a segway You win.Perfect.

Lawrence Groves copyright©2024

[pokemonbattletournament]

We have Pokémon at Home!

Round 1 matchup 100

Propaganda for Chasm:

"M O U T H"

Propaganda for Bogweasel:

"Common in freshwater swamps, sewers, humid jungles and damp caves, this small annelid vampire transfixes prey with its luminous gaze, painlessly saws through flesh with its three opposing tooth plates and bloats to nearly a globe as it messily suctions out blood and entrails. (...) It particularly relishes eyeballs as an "after-dinner snack."

Bogweasel are fond of music, and may attempt to "sing along" to any melody in their territory even while attempting to feed upon its source. "

More info under the cut

More information about Chasm:

More information about Bogweasel:

[notsve2]

DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?

Les Miserables US National Tour - September 13th

Les Miserables is based on Victor Hugo’s famous 1862 novel of the same name. It follows Jean Valjean’s life after he is released from prison, Inspector Javier’s chase for him, and the people and events he encounters until his eventual death. The climax of the show revolves around a failed attempt of revolution in the streets of Paris. The technicians, actors, and crew created a full and lively world, something that is hard to create on a stage. Every minute of this show could easily be a scene from a movie or TV show, where elaborate sets and extras are far more common due to cuts between scenes. It was really amazing how fast and smooth the production crew would transport the audience into an entirely different place and time.

As with most productions, the technical aspects of the show were something I paid much more attention to. Something that stood out to me especially with this show was the use of projections, and while projections aren’t uncommon in theater, oftentimes they have a hard time mixing with the onstage actors and set pieces which tends to draw me out of the world. In Les Mis however, they mixed amazingly with the color theme established with the show and at various times I forgot they were even projections. They were also used in unique ways such as in “One Day More” where the actors were ‘fake’ marching but the projections behind them made them appear to be moving. This effect was also used in the second act when Valjean was dragging Marius’ body through the sewers, and the projections moved along with the actor through the system. I found an article after seeing the show which interviewed set designer Matt Kinley in 2019 from which he stated that many of the projected images used Victor Hugo’s original drawings, which is such a neat detail to me. Also using projections, at the end of the ‘prologue’ the stage went dark and the title of the show was projected onto the stage, acting as a title card. This really stood out to me because that isn’t something often used in stage theater and something I had never seen before, but it worked really well as a transition to signify both a time skip, and the end of Valjean’s prior life. The various sets also utilized a lot of levels, which was necessary due to the large cast. Everything from the barricade, the Cafe Musain, the Thénardiers inn, and simple scenes that took place in the town, really helping to fill the stage and ‘void’ above them. Many of the actors also made really nice choices, my favorites were between Gavroche and Grantaire. Gavroche would often comfort Graintaire when he got angry especially in “Drink with Me”, and after Gavroche’s death Graintaire holds him for a long moment. This small choice was so special I forgot what happened at this point in the show because I was focused on them instead. It was one of the many decisions that made this production feel like a full world.

I happened to notice a lot of unique staging aspects. Especially during Fantine’s death in Act One, when Valjean was sitting on her deathbed. The entire song, despite him singing some parts, his back was faced to the audience. I noticed this because typically this should be avoided, but combined with Fantine’s light-colored costume in contrast to his, it drawed the audience’s focus to her. This was the first time I noticed it’s use in the show and where I believe they used it best, but it was also used in other moments throughout the show. The blocking for this show was also very unique, being able to transport between locations almost seamlessly. In the opening of Act One, it opens to the street of France, then quickly transforms into the factory where Fatine works. It was not very noticeable, but if you looked close enough, you could see the ensemble placing the set pieces behind the first row of actors, so that when they moved, it revealed an entirely new scene. This effect was a great choice, and a risky one if not timed right.

Photos taken from the LES MISERABLES US TOUR OFFICIAL WEBSITE

[ninten-draw]

hi rainworld tumblr i had a weird rainworld related dream last night and now im gonna share it 

Basically there was this new sort of campaign, but it involved ALL the slugcats. It was sort of like pantheon of hollownest , each slugcat had its own challenge and like expeditions you would lose and start over i you died on karma 0 Its order was weird but it was like monk -> hunter -> spearmaster -> gourmand -> artificer -> rivulet -> saint -> survivor , but instead of their normal campaigns they were more like.. what if scenarios, and it involved exploring and trying to find a way out of a structure/area until you find the “exit” which would look like a working subway that would take you to the next campaign I don’t remember all the campaigns, but I know in gourmands the “what if” scenario was what if the ancients never mass ascended? His was the easiest, as it mostly involved a lot of platforming and viewing the rainworld in its hay day, listening to the stories of the ancients, while also taking care of two slugpups with you. Artificers what it scenario is “what if she never managed to drive off the scavnegrs and scav king?” In this scenario we explore the ruins of five pebbles, as the mix of scavengers ripping apart his metropolis floor and the rot got to him, the Scavs have infiltrated five pebbles’ inner workings, and artificers goal is to escape the structure, starting from inside of the scav kings chambers, and escaping out into shoreline or industrial complex Rivulets was a lot more surreal? In it the iterator puppets don’t exist, meaning you don’t have an easy way of comprehending the iterators themselves, also the iterator computers are wayyy bigger. In it rivulet is exploring the inner workings of five pebbles and lttm, and with the computers having no easy way of directly communicating, end up trying to assist rivulet using their own coding, neuron flies, inspectors, and overseers it was also much darker in the computers, with very little light only coming from neuron flies and some code lighting up Saints was the second to last, and a very strange campaign, in it saint is in rubicon, except it’s completely dark, the only light being yellow void puddles and those weird yellow spirity sea creatures. There were also no rubicon creatures either. Instead of saint trying to travel up to get out of rubicon, this time saint is trying to go down, the campaigns challenges being a lot of parkour and trying to avoid the void puddles without your flight ability. Once you reach the ‘bottom’ you’ll encounter a small room similar to the one you’d find five pebbles and moon in, but this time it’s someone else, sliver of straw. She says nothing at first, but if you stick around for long enough she’ll say “I’m sorry” and that’s how saints thing would end The last one is survivor, in it it’s played out pretty normally for rainworld stuff, you start In subterranean and can’t go anywhere else, it’s dark, you’re at max karma, and you’re trying to go ascend. Subterranean itself becomes way bigger of an area to not make it a quick and easy trip Anyway you get down to the depths, ascend, but instead of the usual ending cutscene; we instead have a beginning cutscene, survivors intro cutscene, except survivor isn’t there, the family of slugcats move on, monk doesn’t go down into the sewers because there’s no one to go after, they just move on, and that’s how it ends, it just fades to black

[fgfluidity]

mirror | manor (chapter 11)

Summary: After the events of Mirror | Void, a newly-christened Dark has two goals: take revenge on Mark, and, hopefully…

Find the DA.

Pairings: Damien/Dark x DA; Actor x DA (Implied, could be read as gen)

Warnings: none

Tagged: @opprose @volbeast @statictay @otterlyinluv @buc-eebarnes @flerpdederp @mirrorslament @hapikiou (if anyone else would like to be tagged hmu!)

i'm sorry this took almost three years to come out-

find it on ao3 | donate to my kofi

Dark knows the game.

Of course he does— he read the script.

He just expected them to see through it.

Then again... they haven’t seen through anything Mark’s done. They just don’t remember.

He can’t decide if that’s a blessing or a curse.

He sticks to the shadows as they approach, entirely too darling in what amounts to a burglar’s costume, as they wriggle their way inside.

Mark is his own brand of buffoon, and the ‘guards’ he hired match it to the letter, not a drop serious or truly threatening.

(“Sorry I didn’t message you first,” he says, brushing out bits of glass from his hair. “I tried to jam the cell signal and, um… it’s just broken.”)

Imbecile.

Even the dog is there, playing a role. How droll.

Even if she is a very good girl.

All throughout this, he watches for the guard’s radios, for a television screen, for— for anything that he might use to sway the DA, catch their attention without Mark noticing.

If he can just separate them—

The thing is, though, Mark is either ridiculously prepared for his planning, or is completely thoughtless about small, realistic details; throughout the entire museum, no guard has a radio, no wall has a screen.

Not ones that work, anyway— not a connection to anything remotely electromagnetic. Props at best. It’s the least technologically-advanced modern building Dark has been in since…

Well, since he left that manor, but that hardly counts.

The point stands that he’s unable to do much of anything but watch as the DA rolls their eyes and smiles at Mark’s antics, creeps quietly along while the man makes a fool of himself, face set and focused.

He’s seen that look. Pre-trial look. All business.

And they called him too serious all that time ago.

So fondly…

At any rate, their supposed treasure is both easy to get to and utterly unremarkable. A wooden case, carved but hardly special wood, the gem plastic even from his vantage point. A prop, like everything else.

And yet…

Mark lifts the box, and—

This is the end of the script. A successful heist, hightailing it out before they get caught, a seemingly-sincere thanks for help.

But there’s something. Like a little nudge, something like how he feels using the void, how the Earth seems to shift when the Host speaks creation.

The alarm trips.

Mark gives them a choice. Sneak out, or face the guards.

Perhaps... perhaps he overlooked. Perhaps he was given a working script, not the final draft.

Perhaps it’s another of Mark’s machinations.

There was no choice. Why is there a choice?

Why do they get a choice?

It doesn’t matter, really, because the DA picks exactly as he expected they would.

“We have to sneak out, it’s too dangerous, otherwise,” they say, just barely audible over the blaring alarm.

Mark’s face crumbles into a pout. “You’re no fun,” he whines— like a toddler; Dark half expects him to start stomping his feet— but he dutifully uncovers the sewer entrance, grumbling all the way.

The DA just watches, arms crossed. Petty.

They didn’t used to be so petty, but Mark deserves it, if anyone.

Dark very well understands that the entire thing is engineered, a massive staged undertaking to fool the DA and entertain an audience, unseen to his eyes but present all the same.

It doesn’t stop the trip through the sewers any less harrowing, doesn’t prevent him from using his unique position to draw attention away from the DA if ever they come a hair too close to getting caught.

It might be fake, but…

He doesn’t put it past Mark to introduce some very real danger. He’s a method actor, and he’d want his players to follow accordingly for maximum effect.

Dramatic ass.

They follow dutifully behind the entire way through the dark, though— and he notes it with a point of pride, one he chalks up to just how put out Mark seems— with a good amount of non-verbal sass. They cross their arms, roll their eyes, and stubbornly march right along behind Mark.

Not that Mark doesn’t try to get rid of them— oh, he tries to shake them like gum stuck to his shoe, and it’s a thrill to see him huff and grumble when they simply shake their head. He pouts— at several points! So very childish.

Then—

Hm. Unsurprising that the creator of this convoluted mess would whip up some way to surely remove them; if there’s one possible thing they’d listen to above anything else, it’s a worksite safety sign.

Not for lack of effort, though. “I… I really don’t know if we should split up, Mark,” they say, casting an uneasy glance back at the tunnel they just left. “I know it says only one, but if something happens—“

“Nothing’s going to happen! Nothing bad has happened even once!” His bright grin only gets a— astoundingly dry— look in return. It’s nearly impressive that he barrels on, anyway. “It’s for safety, buddy! You’re all about safety— and! We’re synchronized! In five minutes you just follow me over. Or I follow you, whichever.”

Mark gives them a once over, all while grinning, and if Dark wasn’t looking— wasn’t incensed at the familiarity— he wouldn’t have noticed, wouldn’t have cared. Alas.

It’s too… possessive. Too pleased.

He doesn’t need Damien in his head to stoke his rage, it seems, not anymore. The only thing that stops him is what Mark says next.

“You have a choice, sunflower.”

A choice. There it is again, more choices, as if giving them the power to change any of this. Giving them a say.

So they don’t feel trapped.

Aren’t they, though? If Mark wrote everything, created everything, what kind of choice is it?

However…

They glance back at the shadowy tunnel again, frowning, worrying at the sleeves of their top in a too-familiar pattern. If they turn back, they’ll be away from him. How far apart can they both get in five minutes?

How far apart do they need to be for him to intervene?

This is his chance. It may well be the only one he’ll get, and the margin of error is far too slim for his liking— he must get this right. He must say the right thing— and pray they don’t hate or fear him.

Thankfully, time goes a little off-kilter in the Void, or else he’d have to make a very quick plan.

He’ll have to ease them in. See what they could possibly remember from that night, prod what needs prodding. It’s an easy enough parlor trick to conjure up a memory these days.

After that… what could he say?

Damien— he— was never short for words in his past life. As mayor— as councilman, as law student, as debate captain, as his father’s son— he simply had to be good with them, and he was.

Not quite so smoothly charismatic as Mark, not as bombastic and warm as Wil, but— well, he didn’t make mayor through his familial connections, whatever certain parts of his constituency may have believed. He delivered his speeches, his debates, with calm strength, something personable but solid.

Hell, he—

He used to write them for fun. The person— people, really— standing right outside this pocket of Void once teased him.

How are you writing a paper now? Finals are over! Come on, live a little!

Even I don’t want to spend all summer in a library. Won’t you come with me? There are new flowers in the arboretum!

The memory comes unbidden, and throws him off-balance; thankfully, he doesn’t fall out of his incorporeal state or ruin any of his planning.

Such a memory… but how? That’s more of Damien’s—

He hasn’t heard him. Not since that agonizing split when he entered their dream.

Mayhaps they didn’t split.

Mayhaps—

“Well… if you’re sure, Mark,” they sigh, hardly thrilled at the idea. “But it has to be five minutes. If you disappear on me—“

“Relax! It’ll be okay, you’ll see me. Sheesh, you’re so serious.” Mark huffs— then straightens himself. Smiles, even as they turn away, towards Dark. “Yes, alright! You go down that tunnel, I’ll go down this tunnel. If you see anything, and I mean anything, you just turn that sweet little tuchus around and—“

He’s had about enough of that. With hardly more than a thought, he whisks Mark away elsewhere, wherever elsewhere may be, and rolls out his Hall of Memories.

And prays.

They used to pride themself on being unflappable, before, and he can see shades of it, now: their face remains the same, alert but not startled as they take in the paintings, the dust swirling in the beam of their flashlight.

He knew the truth of that, though, and it, too, remains; you need not look at their face for their feelings, but their hands.

Though one holds the flashlight, all ten fingers are in motion— tapping the length of the flashlight, curling and uncurling in their sleeve, the belt loop, the zippers and buttons of their bag. Moving for comfort, perhaps— certainly no expression of joy, as the rest of them is ramrod-straight, stiff with each step.

He longs— longs, what is happening to him— to say something to ease the anxiety, raise the darkness, but he can’t. This is no matter he can explain with soft, comforting words and a pot of tea. His powers aren’t of light at all.

They can, though, reach an electromagnetic signal, and now that they’re alone, he pushes through his thoughts.

Finally, you’re away from him. Aren’t you tired of it?

What?

He’s running you ragged. Don’t you feel like you’re running in circles?

That’s not what he said— not quite, anyway.

They won’t tell you anything. No one seems to question it.

Why can’t he change it?

I know you’re in there. But I thought you’d see through it.

The final painting, of the monster himself, grinning like a fool. It begins to crumble before them both— they step back, fingers tight around both phone and flashlight— and Dark gets a split second of pure dread before—

Before—

My villain. I wrote everything. Even you.

It’s not painful. It’s not— it’s not even close to the searing split of the dreamworld, nothing to the pain in his stolen body, nuts compared to his shattered leg almost a century ago. It doesn’t hurt at all.

He almost wishes it did.

“Same snake, different skin,” he muses, and something inside him quails at the sight of fear— truly, rare fear— in their eyes when they turn to take him in. “Always spinning his yarns, his webs, his lies.”

He means to say it. He means to say he’s nothing but a monster in human skin, that they’re being dragged one way or another at his whims— he doesn’t mean to sound so… angry. So—

Villainous.

He screams, though it doesn’t come out— not of this body. Instead, there’s the discomfort of a fragment, juddering, lashing void in every direction. He only keeps enough sense to keep it away from them.

Without him— without him!— his body paces, a smile too similar to Mark’s on his face. “Perhaps we’ve met a hundred times already, and you simply don’t remember it. Perhaps you’re tired of me repeating myself over and over and over and over again!”

He’s seen them a hundred times, but have they met? Has he said anything to them, his desperate wish for them to remember and leave simply that, a wish?

No. This is Mark’s doing, but he’s far from the only one with power. Dark pushes past the discomfort, past the fragments that shatter out of him, and tries to touch it. Tries to see what, exactly, controls him.

It’s a web.

Not unlike a spider’s, really, glimmering threads of words in several different directions, coalescing into bright points of light wherever they meet.

Ah, the choices. Planned for, then— prolonging the make-believe.

He sees an island man. He sees a brilliant scientist. He sees a pirate, an adventurer, a prisoner. He sees their end a dozen times, more, always coming back to the start.

He sees himself— but his point, his thread, is loose.

Not so in control now, are you, Mark?

They must know. They have to know.

With what little wriggle room he has, he reaches out— and changes a couple letters. One at each point. Nothing shifts, nothing breaks, but something is different— hopefully, different enough for his clever attorney to find.

They’re the sharpest he’s ever known. If anyone could, it’s them.

He settles back into his body, still speaking without him— without him!— and pacing before a desk. It doesn’t feel so wrong with his newfound confidence… in fact—

“You want answers.” He smiles to himself, happy to have control again, and for the hell of it, picks up the glass of wine— seemingly, so kindly provided for by the writer. “Well, games were always his forte.”

He’s not sure of the vintage, or even sure of the varietal, given the monochrome nature of his Void, but he takes a sip, anyway.

He tries hard not to gag, but can’t hide his wince. For all his budget, Mark hardly splurged on something decent, it seems.

Suppose that’s the loss of his wine cellar at work.

“But allow me this one moment of self indulgence.”

He sets the wine down. Neither of them will be partaking of it.

“Excuse me—“ 

He stops, holding the box— the conduit in this little foray into pretend— and looks at them from atop the desk. They’re— smiling a little. Not big, but it’s theirs, and if his heart still beat— “Yes?”

“Why’d you pick that wine if you didn’t like it?”

He wants to laugh. Oh, he wants to laugh at that, because in the face of— quite frankly— something frightening and beyond their control, they’re teasing it. He loves them.

He loves them.

“I didn’t,” he admits, truthfully. There’s something so warm in his chest, something he can’t prevent from showing on his face, so fond. “Sometimes we take what we’re given, for better or for worse. This game, for instance. This box.

“So much trouble, all for something so small.” He looks to them curiously, smile fading. “Do you want to know what’s inside this box?

“I didn’t imagine we’d have to be in sewers to get it,” they add dryly. “After all this, I definitely want to know, and it has to be something worth it, or else.”

He’d laugh at the thought, them tearing into Mark for dragging them over hill and dale, but he’s seen what lies ahead. They’ll have time to do it, and the nudging at his body indicates he’s rather short of time himself. “Well, I know how much you like a good game, so throughout your… adventures, I’ve hidden codes. Several codes. Find them all, and you’ll get your truth.”

They don’t look especially pleased at that, but the light comes into their eyes despite the slump of their shoulders— the light that kept them up all night with an encyclopedia or three, classes next morning be damned. “More games. Why am I not surprised?”

They eye him for a few long seconds, brow furrowed, even as the Void rumbles and sparks around them both. It’s too familiar, as if they’re reading him down to his core. “You aren’t Mark, are you? Not some character. But… you’re so familiar. Who… who are you?”

He could give them his name. It might spark something for them, kickstart whatever process they need to regain their memory of what happened. He wouldn’t even care if they screamed at him for all he put them through.

The Void, though, shakes and cracks, and he shakes his head with a slight frown and a mountain of regret. He has a modicum of control, still, but not fully. Not right now. “That’s all I’m going to give you.”

They open their mouth, but the Void winks them away, gone to their next run.

All he can do is sit and watch from here.

[rubyiiiusions]

crawls out of the void,,, here u go bowuigi enjoyers

tongues and teeth // bowser x luigi

word count 2244 // ao3 link

summary: “Ah, rigatoni… I’m sorry–” “It’s fine.” “...Oh. Eh… has no one ever called your singing beautiful before?” “...Not in so many words.” (or, luigi is afraid of a lot of things, but fire has never been one of them, much to his dismay.) [rated T: mario movie spoilers, hurt/comfort, torture, rough kissing but they dont kiss its just really gay ass dialogue]

He’d banged his head against the bars, jolting as the chains above him whirred away. …Great, just as I thought I could stop having a panic attack, Luigi thought wryly, hissing in pain and scrambling to his feet as he was lifted, his cage pulled up into the gaping maw of the ceiling. Below him, a few of the penguins(and of course that absolutely enlightening blue star, but Luigi had been trying to filter out its voice) squawked out protests or questions, and he bit his lip. Like I chose to be here! He wanted to yell. I never wanted to go in the sewers, I never wanted to get sucked in here, I never wanted to leave my brother! I just wanted to start a business, wanted to prove to my dad that I’m more than just a good student…

I just want to go home. 

“Here he is, your highness!” The wizard chirped, far too cheerfully, and Luigi let out a small, nervous laugh, giving his captor a small wave and trying not to instinctively rub the sore spot where a few of his mustache hairs had once been. 

Luigi could see the smoke curling in the air as it left Bowser’s nostrils. It was almost mesmerizing, the way he could see the barely-held-back fire, trapped in his maw, glowing and flickering in the dim light of the throne room. If he wasn’t terrified, he’d be curious. 

“Shoo, Kamek,” the King dismissed, and the wizard instantly scurried away, muttering a quick yes sir. And, suddenly, they were alone. 

Luigi’s heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Bowser, letting out a quiet heh and pulling at the collar of his shirt nervously. For a moment, all his captor was doing was studying him, tracing his figure, as if imagining what it would be like to tear him apart, how his skeleton would look bare, skin burnt to a crisp. 

“Is… there a reason you brought me here, L-Lord Bowser?” He ventured tentatively, sweat beading from his forehead and dripping down his neck. 

The Koopa let out a huff that could have passed for amused. “Never had one of my prisoners call me ‘lord’ before,” he mused, and extended a hand. A glowing, shimmering star materialized in his palm, spinning at his will. It pulsed and thrummed, like a heartbeat loud enough to rival Luigi’s own, power radiating from it in waves. Bored, Bowser flicked it with a finger, sending it spinning across the room, before calling it back to his grasp. 

“Eh… what would you prefer?” Luigi asked, trying and failing to tear his gaze away and instead opting to awkwardly readjust his hat. “King? Majesty? Sovereign? Sir? Master?”

Bowser seemed to choke on something before clearing his throat. He closed his fist and the star flickered back to its place behind his throne. “Lord and King are fine, thank you,” he snarled, more embarrassed than hostile. Luigi took a sheepish step back. 

“You… bald ape people fascinate me,” he muttered, more for himself than Luigi. The human furrowed his eyebrows. “So small, so… smooth. Warm-blooded. It’s odd.” 

“We’re… uh, we’re called humans, sir,” Luigi attempted, voice small, but Bowser didn’t acknowledge him. “Majestic, even…” the Koopa was muttering, lost in his own thoughts. “Is there…”

He snapped back to attention and took a booming step forward. “You! Uhh…”

“Luigi,” He tried to state calmly, but it came out as more of a squeak. 

“Luigi. Yes.” Bowser clasped his hands together. Luigi tilted his head curiously. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that the Koopa King was nervous. “I have a very important question for you.”

“Me?” Luigi almost whimpered, and his heart was racing. …Mamma mia, what have I gotten myself into?

“Well, duh. You’re the only one here,” Bowser muttered, still quiet, and Luigi stifled a yelp of fear at the reminder, taking another step back. He cleared his throat and, surprisingly, seemed to retreat into his shell a bit, eyes darting from his talons to the volcanic brick floor to Luigi and back again. “Let me… present a hypothetical situation. You look like her. If… if you were a powerful, strong, heart-stoppingly beautiful princess who led her subjects to great prosperity, would you fall in love with me?”

Luigi blinked. “What.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Princess Peach!” Bowser snapped, casting his gaze skyward, as if a spotlight was trained on him as he went into a powerful, heartbreaking monologue, Romeo and Juliet style. “The most beautiful princess in all the land? Blue eyes, blond hair? Ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom, which I’m about to raze to the ground as I ask for her hand in marriage?” There were stars in his eyes, somehow glimmering brighter than the one shining behind his throne. “She’s… she’s perfect. I’m going to rule the world by her side. We’ll destroy everything… together.” 

Luigi let out a small, nervous laugh. “I… eh, I don’t know if I can answer for the princess… I’ve never met her, and–”

“Let me rephrase,” Bowser snarled, and suddenly he was towering over Luigi’s cage, smoke curling from his open mouth, rumbling in a growl. He yelped and scrambled backward. “If you were Peach, would you fall in love with me?”

“Y–Yes!” Luigi blurted, terrified, and Bowser’s eyes widened. A genuine smile spread across his face. What the hell is wrong with this guy? 

“As I assumed!” The King clapped his hands, turning to hide his excitement. Luigi found he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “Thanks for your help–not that I needed it, or that you had a choice,” He quickly tacked on, shooting him a glare that somehow seemed forced. “I wasn’t nervous, by the way.”

Bowser waved a hand and the chains holding Luigi’s cage in place began to whir, sinking slowly back into the ground. Luigi kept his eyes trained on that shell, shining in the flickering firelight, and that tail that whisked back and forth happily until the throne room turned into a sliver of light and disappeared. He let out a sigh of relief, far too shaken to unpack any of the truth in his words. 

-

“If… ah, if you don’t mind me asking… what’s so special about this ‘Peach’?” Luigi ventured. He would have been terrified–hell, he still was, but he could breathe and his heart wasn’t threatening to beat out of his chest, so he counted that as a partial victory–if these… visits hadn’t become a regular occurrence. It was like clockwork; every night(or what he could only assume was night–the time his internal clock was begging him to sleep, but that wasn’t quite a reliable source) chains would start whirring and he’d be pulled back up to the throne room, face to face with King Bowser himself. If he wasn’t so put off, he’d be bored, but there was something about him that seemed to spark a flame in Luigi’s chest, as if preparing him to burn to a crisp. 

Bowser had a faraway look in his eyes that, for once, was marred with conflict. “She’s… she’s beautiful,” he murmured, and Luigi studied the sudden softness in his expression. “She has heart-shaped bangs, the voice of an angel, the strength of a thousand men, the…” He trailed off, cleared his throat. “What an absurd question. Now, tell me. If you were Peach, would you be entranced by this song?”

(He couldn’t answer for the princess, but Luigi was so drawn in by his bellowing, trembling voice, shaking with emotion, that he couldn’t do anything but nod, couldn’t tear his eyes away from those fangs, curved and sharpened to a knife’s point, couldn’t turn away no matter how much of a bad idea this was. He was a prisoner, after all, but he’d been beginning to wonder if it was to the Koopa King or his own, traitorous, fearful(aflame) heart.)

-

“Your voice is beautiful,” Luigi couldn’t help but murmur in the deafening silence that followed. Bowser let out a small huff, a tiny smile flickering on his face for a moment. 

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me and meant it.”

Luigi turned, eyes wide with shock. He was sitting at the foot of the piano, and he could have ran. Should have ran. But there was nowhere to go, and what harm could one more song do? 

“...Really?”

Bowser shrugged, seemingly resigned, soft around the edges. “I mean, the only other person I’ve ever sung for this way is Kamek, and… well, you know. Brainwashed and everything.”

“Huh.” Luigi studied the king’s eyes and, for the first time, saw something that might have been sadness in them. 

(His irises were auburn, a gnarled tree caught aflame.)

“So you think Peach will like it?” He asked, soft voice betraying the hidden longing in his expression. 

“Mamma mia… I’d be surprised if she didn’t,” Luigi answered honestly, and something trembled in his chest.

-

Luigi yelped as a claw curled around his mustache, pulling playfully at the hairs. “Wha–yeowch–what are you doing?”

“Physical torture,” Bowser responded bluntly, before breaking off into a bellowing laugh. Fear and awe, in equal parts, boomed in his chest.

“Eh… I thought…”

“Wrong!” Bowser hummed, gleeful, and the malicious grin on his face widened as his claw moved from tugging at mustache hairs to tracing Luigi’s jawline past his ear to flick his hat. “You’re my prisoner. I’ll do as I please. What, did you forget? You’re entirely at my mercy.”

He should have been afraid. Was afraid. But…

That fire, glowing from behind Bowser’s barely parted grin. The way his eyes flashed, fiery amber. He was afraid of a lot of things, but flames… flames had never been one of them. No matter how much it hurt as they singed his fingers.

-

“Ah, rigatoni… I’m sorry–”

“It’s fine.”

“...Oh. Eh… has no one ever called your playing beautiful before?”

“...Not in so many words.”

-

He knew it was the beginning of the end when as his eyes were drooping, the chains didn’t clank and whir anymore, didn’t pull him up to what had somehow become his escape. He heard a faint whooping of joy above, the newly-captured Kongs and Toads sitting sullenly in their cages, some rattling their bars and others yelling at the floating, ever-cheerful turquoise star, and bit his lip.

What the hell had he been thinking? How had he let that fear, the only thing keeping him alive right now(and maybe not his brother, but–no, he couldn’t, wouldn’t think about that right now) morph into something entirely different, something he was afraid to put a name to? Why hadn’t he noticed? Why–

Oh, no… why did he miss his voice?

-

The wave of relief that surged through him as Mario swiped him out of midair with a cry, pulling him close into a tight hug, swearing to never let go, was almost enough to extinguish the fire.

Almost. 

But as Luigi’s eyes caught Bowser’s, as the ice shattered, as the volcano roared and the princess he’d heard so much about cried out, reaching out in vain as the bullet bill surged towards her castle, seemingly infinitesimal in the shadow of Bowser’s Castle, he felt a spark lick its way from his stomach up his spine, through his veins, and settle into a flickering flame in his chest.

It had been nothing compared to this; the searing metal trash can lid, the burns on his palms, stinging, and the metal was bending. The star thrummed behind him and Bowser’s panicked roar echoed in his ears, humming humming humming with the fire that licked just beside him, curling around his mustache in a way that had him seeing stars.

He wondered–was this what it was like to feel alive? To burn?

And then–

A white glow, searing behind his eyelids, but it was cold. Fast moving, like an icy, brittle moon orbiting its sun, and his skin was shimmering, tingling with a numbness that made him uneasy. Nonetheless, power flooded through his veins, beating with his heart, and he narrowed his eyes. 

Fear was a good look on Bowser. So was defeated, lying facedown in the dust. Luigi had a strange urge to reach down and smooth the tangles in his hair. Almost a shame, how pathetic he looked, rendered to nothingness and trapped in that jar.

-

(He dreamt of his voice, of full, booming piano tones and bursts of flame, of amber eyes.)

-

Luigi was jostled awake to the realization that he couldn’t breathe or move. His eyes widened and he stifled a yelp. His wrists were bound, behind his back and tied to a chair, and sweat beaded at his neck. The walls were flickering, and fear bloomed in his stomach. 

A rumbling laugh, far too familiar, echoed throughout… wherever he was, and he whimpered. Something stirred in his chest, and he gasped when he realized it was a spark. It was too late–the flame was already fueled. 

“You’re an amusing one,” Bowser growled, low and cocky as he lumbered forward. Oh, how Luigi wished that voice didn’t send a shiver down his spine, equal parts relief, yearning, and fear. A claw hooked under his neck, thumb playfully teasing his mustache before poking at his lower lip, mouth agape. Bowser licked his lips. “I think I’ll keep you.” 

[scarletsaphire]

Dani and Danny return to Amity Park after a long time away, one last time.

--

This is my first fic for @phicphight, done for @ashseadreamer's prompt: They lay side by side on a blanket, fingers intertwined as they whispered dreams into the night. The fireflies look like falling stars-- beautiful, mesmerizing, and sad.

I hope you enjoy!

"Oh thank the Ancients!" Dani called out the moment the run down, faded "Welcome to Amity Park" sign appeared in their line of sight. "It feels like we've been flying forever!"

"It does feel like its been a long time, hasn't it," Danny replied. "It's nice to be back home."

Dani laughed. "I know. I still think we should've stayed in Taiwan."

"Yeah, well, you lost at rock paper scissors, so there." Danny stuck his tongue out at her, and Dani returned the gesture. It wasn't long before they both devolved into giggles.

After the two of them regained their composure, Danny spoke again. "C'mon, we've got a few hours to kill before sundown. What do you want to do first?"

Dani hummed thoughtfully. "Do you think the Nasty Burger milkshake machine is still running?"

"There's only one way to know for sure."

There was, unsurprisingly, nobody working, but one look at the machine, wrapped in bright yellow caution tape, told the half ghosts exactly what they needed to know. Much more surprisingly was the bundle of french fries, tucked in the very back corner of the freezer and next to some nasty sauce.

"Oh, there's no way that's any good," Danny said as Dani pulled the bag out.

"It's not like it can kill us any more," Dani pointed out as she opened the bag. "Besides. It's better than nothing, right?"

"Fair point."

The two ate the fries on the rooftop of the building. They definitely didn't taste as good as Danny remembered them being, but he blamed it on the fact that they were cold. At least they were still edible. Technically.

Dani belched, the sound echoing through the quiet streets of Amity Park. "That hit the spot."

All Danny did in reply was nod. At his silence, Dani turned to face him. "What's wrong?"

Danny shrugged. "You know. Same old, same old."

Dani leaned back on her hands, staring up at the sky. The sun burnt an angry red, low in the sky. It would've hurt her eyes, if she'd been human. "Yeah, I know." She tilted her head to the side, so that it rested on Danny's shoulder. "I can't imagine how weird this all is."

She felt the ice chill of his breath on her head. "It's... something, alright." He lifted his arms, pushing Dani's head off, and floated to his feet. "But we're not going to waste our time feeling sorry for me, okay? We only have..." He glanced down at his wrist, where a sleek watch sat. "An hour and a half. So, what do you want to do? We can check out the park, or maybe those sewer rat ghosts you befriended a while ago?"

Dani narrowed her eyes at him, the same expression he made whenever he was thinking. "Fentonworks. I think we should check out Fentonworks."

Dani did not miss the way Danny stiffened, or the single, sudden swallow, but his demeanor shifted back to casual not even a whole second later. "Sure. Let's go."

--

The halls of Fentonworks were never quiet. When Danny had been little, they were filled with the noises of two small children running around, getting up to all sorts of mischief. One of his earliest memories was of himself running through the halls on tiny little toddler legs, Jazz in hot pursuit and his mother not far behind.

When they'd outgrown those kinds of games, other sounds filled the void. Jazz's tuba practice from when she played in middle school faded into Danny listening to Dumpty Humpty with Sam and Tucker faded into alarm sounds for ghost attacks and phone calls about Danny's academic performance.

No matter how those noises changed, one sound remained consistent; the sound of metal and electricity and machinery. Sometimes it was loud enough to drown everything else out, and sometimes it was nothing more than the persistent hum emanating from the walls, so quiet and routine that Danny only ever noticed it was there when it wasn't.

Coming back to that familiar hum felt right, even if he wasn't pleased to admit it.

The hum of the portal underneath his feet, still as strong as the day he'd turned it on, vibrated in time with his core, with his bones, and he felt a bit like he was slotting back into place, like a puzzle getting completed.

It was nice to feel it again, after so long.

Danny ran his hand along the shelf in the living room, his gloved hand coming back coated with dust. Without a second thought, he turned and blew the debris into Dani's face.

She sneezed, shooting herself up into the air a good foot, before floating back down to ground level. "Hey!" she shouted. "What was that for?"

Danny laughed and danced out of the way of her lunge. It was clumsy; he didn't know if she was thrown off from the dust, or everything else. "Revenge."

"But I didn't do anything!"

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that." Danny turned away, floating down the hallway. "Come on. Help me find a duster or something."

"But why? You've never cared about dusting before."

Danny shrugged. "Better now than never, right?"

Dani fell quiet behind him, but he didn't mind. He'd made it to the closet, and was busy searching for the aforementioned feather duster. The closet was filled to the brim with old junk; boxes of rusty spare parts, bits and bobs that would've been useless even if they were brand new, and cardboard boxes that looked more like flat pieces of cardboard after sitting under everything else for so long. No duster, or even something that could be used as one in a pinch.

He laid eyes on it after floating up to the top shelf, phasing through the boxes of board games so faded or covered in dust that their names were illegible. The blanket was folded neatly in the far back corner, and sparkled ever so slightly in Danny's natural green glow. He pulled it out without a second thought.

"Not a duster, but I guess if you're set on this idea," Dani started before Danny cut her off with a look.

The blanket was tiny and the years spent in the closet hadn't been kind to it; there were holes in the sides and center from where a moth had gotten to it, but Danny could still tell what it was.

"Do you recognize this at all?" he asked.

Dani narrowed her eyes for a moment, studying the worn fabric, before shaking her head. "Might not have gotten those memories."

"Yeah, well, I'm not too surprised," Danny said. "But this was my favorite blanket when I was a kid. I think Mom had to pry this out of my hands when i was in kindergarten, and even then I would try and sneak it into my backpack every day before the bus came."

He ran his fingers over the fabric. The edges, which had been lined with a soft silk, were still shiny, if not as reflective as he remembered them being, and the swirling pattern of pastel blues, oranges, and purples in the middle had muddied together into a faded mess. He folded it back up as neatly as he could before shoving it into his side.

"Are we using it for dusting after all?" Dani questioned.

"Of course not."

"Then why...?"

Danny didn't have a good answer, but he hadn't spent so long trash talking other ghosts to not be a quick thinker. "It might be nice to have. For later."

Dani nodded slowly. "Does this mean we're giving up on the feather duster dream? Because I'll be honest, that's not what I had in mind when I said we should come here."

"Oh?" Danny asked, flooding his voice with fake innocence. "And what did you have in mind?"

Dani opened her mouth before closing it again. "Fine. Dusting it is!"

They left Fentonworks an hour later. It wasn't perfect, but it was a lot closer to how Danny remembered it.

--

"I think this is the spot," Dani said, her hand shielding her eyes.

"Looks right to me," Danny agreed. Dani had started to lower herself to the ground before his hand on her shoulder stopped her. With a mischievous grin, he pulled the blanket out from his side and laid it out on the ground with a flourish.

"Told you it'd be useful," he said.

Dani didn't have it in her to argue.

The two of them laid down next to each other, arm pressed against arm, both pairs of eyes trained on the sky. Despite the time, it wasn't dark. Small lights danced in the sky, spinning and swirling amidst the stars.

"I didn't expect them to be so beautiful..." Dani whispered, near reverentially.

"Neither did I." Danny's tone matched hers.

"It's hard to believe they're-"

"Fireflies."

Dani spared one glance over at Danny, whose eyes remained trained on the sky. "Fireflies?"

"It's hard to believe they're fireflies," Danny repeated.

Dani shifted her eyes back to the sky. "Right. Fireflies."

She felt the blanket shift as Danny nodded his head. "We're just two cousins, watching the fireflies, on a warm summer evening."

"Just two cousins," Dani agreed. "And tomorrow, we're going to sneak into the movies, and we're going to watch the goriest, nastiest, R-rated movie we can get into."

Danny laughed, but it blended into the soft buzz that filled the air. "Yeah. And we're going to buy enough candy and popcorn and slushies to make us sick."

"Make you sick, maybe. I'm made of stronger stuff."

"If you say so,” Danny said with a roll of his eyes. 

Dani kept talking to fill the silence, even as the buzzing noise got louder. “After the movies, we're going to come back here. To the park."

"Yeah?"

It was Dani's turn to nod. "We're gonna play hide and seek."

"Whose gonna hide?"

"You will. Obviously. Because you were too weak to keep down the snacks."

"Oh, so you're going to send me on a wild goose chase through the woods?"

"We need to build your endurance for next time."

She heard Danny's sharp inhale next to her, followed by a deep cough. The scent of smoke filled Dani's nose, but she didn't need to breathe, so she didn't let it bother her. The fireflies danced in the air above her, so much brighter and closer than they were before.

When Danny had cleared the soot out of his lungs, he answered. "Next time. Right."

Dani's eyes burnt. She wanted to close them against the smoke and the angry, searing light, but she couldn't. She couldn't look away from the lights on the sky, falling ever closer. For a moment, she tore her eyes away to look at Danny's face. Tears streamed down his cheeks openly, and she wasn't sure whether it was from the air or his feelings. She reached out the few inches to Danny's hand, intertwining her fingers with hers.

"You don't have to watch," she whispered. The buzzing sound had gotten louder, changing to a whooshing that almost drowned at her words.

"You know I have to," Danny answered just as quietly. "This is my home. I can't just-" He paused for a moment. "Someone needs to see this." He pulled his hand away from hers to wipe away the tears. "I promised not to waste the time feel sorry for myself, and here I am."

Dani didn't answer. She didn't have anything to say that she hadn't said a dozen times over, through theirs hours of planning this day. She'd tried to talk him out of it, originally. She didn't see the reason they needed to be here, didn't think it was a good idea, but Danny had been insistent. Dani could understand that, at least. Amity Park had always been his home, not hers. Earth had always been his home.

It made sense he'd want to say goodbye.

The lights in the sky were closer now, close enough that the air was hot, and her watery eyes made them blur and elongate. The whooshing was louder now, so loud that she couldn't hear anything else.

The sound of the first meteor crashing was deafening, even with it being nearly a mile away. The ground shook beneath her back, and Dani couldn’t keep her eyes open against the searing heat anymore.

The world froze in an instant. Every sound, every motion, even the temperature in the air. 

Their time was up.

Dani opened her eyes, grateful to see the swirling green portal covering her view of the sky. Clockwork floated on the mouth of the portal, perpendicular to them. His face was customarily stoic, and his gaze was focused on Danny, who seemed to be staring straight through him.

"It's time to go," she said quietly. Her words shook Danny out of his trance, and he nodded stiffly before floating to his feet.

They'd made it most of the way to the portal before he turned around and hurried back to where they'd been laying, gathering the blanket back up in his arms once more, and returning to Dani's side. He mumbled something under his breath that Dani couldn't figure out, before walking through the portal. He didn't look back.

Dani did. It was a terrible sight, the world burning around her. She took one final deep breath, even though the smoke burned her nose, before stepping to the other side of the portal. It was time to say goodbye.

Their final goodbye to their dying world.

[raedroid]

The Star Covers Immortals

Chapter 1: Into the Void Part 2

——————————————————————————

The aftermath of their encounter with Domino was abysmal to say the least. All of the girls laid in the water, teal and shimmering, feeling more defeated than before. Katherine especially felt distressed as the girls rose to their feet, some of whom were exhausted and physically hurt from the actions of the red haired destroyer. Katherine felt more upset as she saw her friends struggle to move as their clothes were wet from the water and the effects of the destruction of their talentments were setting in. The pain in their hearts was very faint but it would jolt like a static shock, making them jump a little each time.

“You guys alright?” Brittany asked, looking around their landing area. It was a dimly lit maze of sewers, the shimmering teal water flowing throughout the hallways. The walls had small green and teal heart shaped lanterns, attached to the tall dark gray walls, adorning small cracks throughout, and even small sprays of rainbow graffiti and markings all along it, weird phrases and slangs and images of Namnos rulers and politicians, with nasty messages attached to them. As the girls got up from the sticky waves, Veena looked up at the hole in the ceiling, the barrage of boulders covering it, barely letting light in

“Well, we’re not getting out that way.” She muttered annoyed. “Come on, let’s try to get out of here.” They started wandering through the long hallways of the sewer system, dragging their feet through the teal waters, the soggy feeling becoming more and more uncomfortable in their shoes. Each place they went to was all a dead end and was looking hopeless. The girls looked around their surroundings, in order to find any path they haven’t explored yet. However, Katherine threw her hands up in the air.

“Man, The Eldress is gonna be pissed with us when we get outta here!” She shouted

“I think we have other things to worry about!” Kelsey groaned. “Right now, my boots are soggy, I might have a concussion, we lost our Talentments, the most powerful relics in Starterian history, and we are on the most wanted list in Namnos and it’s only been 30 minutes since we got here!”

“That’s a new record for us!” Bella exclaimed happily. As soon as she saw their blank expressions, she looked down. “And it’s awful, definitely awful.”

“No wonder Kiss constantly plans our funerals everytime we go outside.” Jenna pondered. Emma, who stood next to her, started to smells strange odour

“Hey, I smell something burning.” Emma started walking down the hallway and the girls looked on, feeling concern about the possibility of danger in these circumstances

“What if there’s a murderer down there?” Hailey asked

“It’ll just be a typical Tuesday! Come down here already!” Emma called back and they walked down to follow her, feeling dread as they ventured through the dimly lit hallways

“Hopefully we don’t die in here.” Jenna muttered to the others. They stopped once they looked up and gazed at two large metal doors, highly decorated with gold accents and swirls and deep green gemstones. Creeping through the cracks was a faint teal light and a simple but tranquil melody echoed through, piquing the girls interest almost instantly. Sara stepped forward and slowly pushed open the doors, struggling due to the loss of her powers. The melody grew louder as they make their entrance inside this strange room

Inside were massive stone pillars, with intricate carvings of ancient figures on the wall, almost telling a story with each pillar they pass. The room glowed in a similar manner as the hallways outside with its lanterns, but it also had large torch stands, burning massive emerald flames. At the very centre of the room was a large alter, showing illustrations of 18 women in colour silhouettes, stars and lights illuminating each one, resembling a galaxy. The girls were amazed by the craftsmanship of the area and all of its details but their wandering was interrupted by the sound of humming on the other side of the alter.

They looked and saw a much older man standing by a podium, also adorned with gold accents and green gemstones, the top board had several black pieces laying on top, small yellow sparks were visible from each part. They recognized that it was their Talentments on the table. They watched the man slowly create a magic strand of light that began to circle the pieces, making a small orb of light.

“Talentments, bringer of power and light of the soul, awaken!” The man chanted, enhancing the light of the orb before gently fading away, revealing a microphone shaped Talentment. Anna gasped at the sight of her newly restored Talentment, catching the attention of the man. He leaned over and saw Anna staring intently at her source of power.

“You? What are you doing here? I don’t remember inviting you here!” He shouted surprised. But soon, he noticed the rest of the girls behind the ancient altar, granting them a good look at him. He wore a royal purple robe with a large lapis chest piece over top, adorned with mint lettering and trims. Just like Taj, he had green skin and gold eyes, which gazed the girls in utter disbelief

“It’s… it’s you!” He gulped

“Yeah us. What about it?” Kelsey asked nonchalantly

“You have finally come to Namnos! The legends were true!” He exclaimed and the girls looked on bewildered at his statement. “I am Ziro, a psyche to the dimension of Namnos and I am honoured to be in your presence.” He bowed before them, receiving more confused faces from the group.

“Ok ok dude that’s enough.” Lexy laughed nervously. “Please I’m begging you.”

“Oh. My apologies.” He answered, getting up to dust himself off. “But I am beyond grateful to meet you, heroes of Namnos.”

“Wait. Why are you calling us heroes of Namnos? The only thing we’ve done since we got here is piss people off.” Richelle asked

“Again new record for us.” Bella added

“You are the girls who are one, ancient demigods who have come to save our home from great destruction. And you have arrived at a good time. I noticed that the Destroyers have broke your Talentments and I have restored your Talentments back to their original state. And now, you have the magic to defeat our greatest enemy, as described in the prophecy.”

“The prophecy? There’s another one?” Keira asked, her voice hinting fear

“The prophecy describes the 18 powerful guardians who will come to Namnos to defeat the cruel emperor Tempest, an ancient being of destruction and creation. His origins are unknown to the people of Namnos and those who did knew have long since passed away. He rules the land with an iron fist and has seized communication between all of the supreme dimensions for many centuries. The first girls who are one tried to stop him a million years ago but were killed at the last second and since then, no one has been able to defeat him.”

“So wait, if we’re demigods, then why is our temple in a stinking sewer?” Veena asked annoyed

“Look I’m on a budget ok? It’s hard to establish a temple up there! Do you know how much money it cost to buy a temple?! 12’000 Novas!”

“How much is that in Canadian money?”

“I don’t know like 120 000?”

“Oh shit”

“And even if it weren’t expensive, you must understand that due to his long history with the previous guardians, Tempest has made it forbidden to worship your images.”

“Damn he will not like earth at all!” The girls were surprised, feeling the urgency in his voice and the look of hope in his eyes, they had to make the ultimate decision that could change history for the better or worse.

“I understand if this is a lot for you to process. I’ll leave you alone for a bit.” He slowly turned and walked off towards the large doorway, leaving the girls to ponder

“Listen, I don’t know about this. How do we know we can trust him?” Katherine asked concerned, Anna and Keira nodding in agreement

“That’s a good point but we don’t know anything about this world. It sounds like the only way to get home is to help these people.” Megan pointed out

“Yeah but if we stay here, those destroyers will kill us.” Hailey argued. “We can’t risk Starteria losing its powerful Talentments! The Eldress will have a stroke!”

“But if Namnos goes up in flames, they’ll need someone to help them. And we can’t risk an entire dimension getting destroyed, even if we lose our lives in the process.” Sara added.

“Ok how about this? This guy will give us our Talentments back and in all honesty, that doesn’t happen often. If he understood how important these things are to us, then surely he knows that this place needs help. This danger is not something to sneeze at. We gotta do something about it. The least we can do is help them if he is willing to rebuild them for us.” Tanya’s words resonated with them. The ones who questioned the state of the world started to agree and slowly nodded in response.

Although Katherine felt happy with the decision being made, there was a feeling of dread hidden deep down inside, fearing for any possible consequences they would face, both physically and mentally. She feared that her friends would struggle again and face extreme pain, stress and mental distress. Her mind was unsure whether or not she should face this new challenge alone and find a way to get her friends back home. Or at least keep them as far away from the danger as possible

“Yo Ziro! We’ll whoop Tempest’s ass!” Cassie called out. Ziro peeked out from the behind the corner and joined them, his face beaming in delight

“I see. I truly believe that this is the hope Namnos has been missing for years now. This may turn things around completely. Now, if you wish to follow your destiny, I shall return your powers.” He turned to the podium, all 18 of the Talentments were shining brighter than ever, magic radiating from it. The devices were no longer black, sporting each of their individual colours, the colours of their guardian souls. Each of the girls took ahold of their own Talentments, their colourful auras started to glow around them, granting them their powers once more. They looked at one another as they glowed, embracing their gifts and their mission to save the world

“Since that’s all done, what’s next?” Brittany questioned.

“Now you must hear the rest of the prophecy. But first let’s get you out of these sewers.” Ziro answered, leading them out of the ancient room. Katherine looked at the energy shimmering in her hands and stared at it, concern and guilt entering her veins. But she closed her fists, hiding her inner thoughts as she always did, hoping her friends won’t notice it.

——————————————————————————

Through the soggy but shimmering water of the sewer system, Ziro went down all of the problems and issues that the dimension had faced such as false imprisonment over music, and the execution of those who spoke ill of the Destroyers. Many civilizations across the world have been threatened and their people have been killed or captured by them in order to keep Tempests image perfect and flawless. The bizarre laws started to change their approach on the matter with how much devastation has been occurring lately.

“The prophecy described that the girls will arrive in Namnos in order to battle the force of Tempest and music is the key, which is why Tempest and the Destroyers had banned music completely.” Ziro explained

“And Domino, she works for Tempest now? She used to work for the Dark Clipse a while ago.” Lina questioned

“She reports to Lorkell, the emperors right hand man. But yes to answer your question. She is one of the 8 Supreme Destroyers, the highest ranking members that work closely with the emperor. The others are Alferon, Raff, Camilla, Liston, Lunara, Earl, and of course Lorkell.”

“Alright so that’s our plan. Kick their asses, stop the emperor, free music, connect with the other dimensions and then go home. Got it.” Bella responded, letting all of the information sink in

“However, I must warn you that the girls will have visions that will lead them to blackness. They are unlike most visions that Guardians receive. They will alter your senses and visions completely and at the most unpredictable times. But as long as you act as one, the visions will slowly fade away.”

“Ok well that shouldn’t be a problem.” Lexy remarked, before noticing small rays of light sneaking through the grate above her. Lifting her hands, she used her non-topic ability to move the rusty metal grate, granting her friends access to escape, each of them using their powers to fly out of the hole. As they each climbed out, the curious and horrified faces of the citizens around the area grew, some even running away in fear

“Oh right, they think we’re criminals now.” Lina muttered under her breath. Ziro slowly climbed up to the grate and poked his head out to speak closer to them.

“Now, if you want to stop Tempest, you must travel across the wastelands to get to his palace. There are many challenges across that area that you will need to overcome so I recommend you please be prepared.” He warned. “Additionally, be wary of the Fall’s Tower, located at the centre of the Wastelands. It’s an area full of dangerous and harmful energy sources that could cause serious damage to you if you come closer.”

“Thanks for the heads up. We’ll keep that in mind.” Keira answered politely.

“If you need any assistance, please contact me on your StarPhone.” He added

“But we don’t have your contact?” Veena questioned. Ziro got down and pulled out his HeartPhone, a royal purple light of the screen illuminates his face as he sends a message to their StarPhone. They were surprised by how fast and efficient the technology is in the Dimensions, as it is more advanced as their own devices.

“Now goodbye to all of you. Until you need me for anything that is. It has been a blessing to serve you.” He replied, nodding towards them. He landed back into the water and turned to return to his post

“Ok so. I guess we get to the palace.” Katherine began but saw Kelsey staring down at her feet

“Do we really want to go running into the wastelands? My boots are already ruined.” She asked

“All of our boots are ruined. You’re not the only one.” Tanya remarked, causing Kelsey to roll her eyes. “But yeah we’re not in the best shoes for walking through a massive desert.”

“Well they don’t have to be.” A voice interrupted their thoughts and they turned to see who the familiar voice was. It was Taj, standing with a large bag strapped across his back. He had a cheeky smirk on his face as he leaned on the nearest wall

“Oh Taj! I thought your mom got mad at you?” Maya greeted

“He can’t watch me every second.” He answered. Anna gave him a smirk, taking amusement out of his tone

“You remind me of a younger me buddy. But what did you just say about our shoes?” Anna responded.

“Well I know a much more shorter way to get across the Wastelands. You don’t have to go trekking to the palace on foot.” He informed, intriguing the girls immensely. Although they didn’t know what he is capable of, or the full extent of their enemies powers, they knew it was time to take action. And a few risks

“Well then, what are we waiting for?”

——————————————————————————

Tagging: @doodleborg @gh0stfl0ra @criminallyoverrated @peanutbutter-doodles @elrohare @whysodelirious08 @starry-eyed-never-satisfied @shandidellamorte @insanityisdivine @spacedoutman

[pepperycar]

“A wish your heart makes” chapter 2: meeting.. HIM.

Mario woke up to his slow, way too slow heartbeat, he looked up to see he was in the void again, this time he had the strength to stand up. When he did he heard his heart thud loudly into the void, in front of him, just in the distance he saw the small bright light again. Something about was inviting, warmth seemed to be radiating from it, he started walking towards it, his breathing becoming as slow as his pulse, hearing it echo through the void “Hello Mario..” the voice said again. Mario jumped a mile but his heart rate and breathing stayed the same “Wha?-“ “don’t be afraid.” The voice said calmly. Mario didn’t know why but he felt he could trust the voice “Mario Jumpman Mario. It’s a pleasure to be finally meeting you.” Said a strange figure in the darkness. He walked forward “what! Who told you my middle name?!” He hissed angrily, he then froze. There standing in front of the bright light was the tall dark figure, Mario’s eyes widened, nearly stumbling backwards as he heard his heart skip a beat realising who or what he was seeing. A skeleton, with beady little white lights in its orbital bones, dressed in a long black robe, holding a Sythe in his right hand. “Are.. are you?-“ Mario gasped “I go by many names.. “Death” being the most common.” He said almost sadly “I am better known as the Grim Reaper. But you may call me what you like.” He smiled Mario didn’t know what to say, here he was, staring Death itself in the face, the only sound coming from Mario’s slowing heart. “I-don’t fear you..” Mario winced “and I don’t feel like I need to. You’re just doing your job.. are-are you here to take me?” Grim gave a sad smile and nodded “you’re a very brave soul.” Grim smiled “may I- may I call you Grim?” Mario asked as if being carful not to offend him, Grim nodded “am I going to.... to Hell now?” Grim jolted backwards nearly falling into the bright light himself “what? Why would I send you there?!” Grim asked sounding offended. Mario sighed “Be-Because I deserve it!” Mario cried, a little louder then he intended. This caused Grim’s little eye lights to flicker for a second. Mario heartbeat was getting even slower but louder. Grim reached out his skeletal hand and removed Mario’s hat before petting his head. “Why do you wish such a fate?” Asked Grim softly “Because I’m bringing everyone I love and care about down.. especially my brother and.. and I nearly got him killed and it was MY FAULT! I dragged him down into those sewers, I’ve screwed everything up for the rest of my family Financially and I couldn’t even stop Bowser from forcing Peach into marrying him! I couldn’t even be a good friend to Toad who trusted me with no reason to! And I couldn’t even get DK and the other Kongs help without cheating and using power-ups! Heck I almost got everyone in the Kong army and Brooklyn killed! I deserve HELL!” He cried with tears now in his eyes. Grim said nothing, instead he gently pressed his hand to Mario’s chest causing the middle to glow brightly, a red glow a little to the left of it, pulsating very slowly. Mario’s heart had nearly stopped by this point, it was so slow, probably only 25 maybe 20 BPM but then again time didn’t seem to exist in this place, for all he knew he could be LONG dead. -To be continued.

[erzatz3117]

@vvindication so yeah this is this thing

01:13 AM, November 10, 724. Iugoport. The gray soapstone on the nightstand spat out horrible, nauseating words into the emptiness ringing with crystal:

- ...the encirclement of half a million Communal troops on the outskirts of Centrodar is but a small part of the total picture. The events of this September, along with General Komarov's mutiny, show that the final defeat of the Communal Federation is getting closer every day. His Radiance the Human Emperor Kirkegaard praised the success of the Kodor National Army and Adam Zweiger personally in their struggle against the anti-human ideology of communism:...

Wallpaper the shade of spoiled egg yolk reflected on Danmer's pale skin, making him look even more like a gaunt, sickly nestling. Wrapped in three layers of wool, he held a small blue book with simple illustrations. It was “The Moon Hare” by the writer Argonowski, one of the few children's books in the boy's house that did not bear the tiresome branding of “SINKEWICZ I.W.” on its cover.

As Mother said, the aspiring writer Argonowski had personally given her this book as a gift, for which he was honored with all kinds of attention from her side. Such details were of little interest to the ten-year-old boy; he was much more fascinated by the taiga of Ultraborei sleeping under the snow, the life of its inhabitants full of simple miracles, and the graceful journey of a playful white hare across the sky of the opposite hemisphere unknown to Danmer. The printing ink smudged slightly, making the animal's black eyes tear up.

A loud bang of the front door against a dent in the wall severed all flow of life in the human being. The alcohol-containing mass completely eclipsed the dim tungsten light of the room. It seemed as if Divine Sevra herself had grown angry at her negligent child and destroyed all of existence, as if even the most distant stars had in an instant left the poor hare alone with a disintegrating creature woven of pure pain.

It was Mother, of course. No need to fear unpleasant expressions: her long-suffering body had summoned Danmer from the void cell by cell, molecule by molecule, which meant that her legacy would be with him for the rest of his life. She would never leave him - needless to say, loving her was the hardest thing in the world. A nauseating odor of ethanol and malt spread through the enclosed space, already completely indistinguishable from the smell of vomit. As the creature smashed its way through, it toppled furniture and threw books from shelves, as if the very existence of order and beauty in the world - and not alcohol poisoning - was causing it unbearable pain. Upon reaching her son's bed, the cellular automaton collapsed directly onto his disproportionate body, causing him to wail in pain.

- Do you need something from me?

A press for pity and shame. A reminder of her loneliness. A request to stay with her. A deck of New Year playing cards with bunnies and snowflakes. A confused conversation.

Sinkewicz's indignation was barely perceptible.

- Mother, that's not how this game is played.

Resentment. Screaming. Feigned victimhood and abandonment of everything. Decapitated, mutilated cards flying around in the fall mud.

- Mom, why did you do that? What did they do to you? What did they do to deserve this? Why do you keep destroying everything?

A black abyss, a suffocating torrent of insults. Accusations of ineptitude.

- You're the only person under influence here! - Danmer storms out of his indicated spot into the kitchen. Monoatomic alcohols flow down the sewer.

A complete disintegration of all remains of awareness. An inhuman roar. Hands, a muffled blow to the child's skull.

- “You can't raise your hands on your own mother. Never. Endure,” - Danmer's heart beat even faster, pouring hot blood across his bruises.

- “No. No. It's... it's not her. What does it matter if she won't remember it tomorrow anyway?” - whispered an enemy voice from somewhere in his stomach.

- Mom, why do you treat me like this? Why does every drunken party you go on end the same way? Do you know how bad I feel when you threaten me with suicide for every little thing?

Denial of the past. Psychological manipulation. First signs of alcoholic fever.

- You don't remember that? You forgot? You forgot? - the boy shudders with all-consuming terror. His last drops of self-control are running out.

- “I don't remember either. I put all the unpleasant memories into big boxes, and I put the big ones into smaller ones until there's nothing left," - reported the decline of long-term memory.

- “We remember everything...” - Danmer's body, still inexorably reaching towards the sky, found its pale voice, - “it's all here, in the strange bruises, in the inexplicable shivers, in the psychosomatic reactions... one, two, three of her suicide attempts echo inside as undeniably real. That's just this year. You'll never forget them, even when there'll be nothing else left. And she hasn't even been remembering. She just does that. It's no harder for her than breathing. Perhaps even easier...”

- “I can't take this anymore,” - the heart lets go of the frayed reins. Fragile homeostasis strains every thread of quivering meat and lashes out at his mother's body.

An accusation. An ear-pounding shriek. The door to the balcony swinging open. Wounded legs thrown over the steel fence. Ice flying into the room. A cruel manipulation of a sick woman.

- What are you doing again? Please stop... - The child tugs at the edge of his mother's clothes as if begging for a toy. He feels very, very weak again.

A gust of icy wind. A starless sky. An imperceptible, almost certainly random vibration of the blackened bars. A muffled scream, cut short in seconds, once and for all. Gray blood on gray asphalt.

- No! No! - Danmer clutches at his head, shrinking into a point of impossible pain, - This isn't how it happened!

- ...On behalf of all of humanity, we thank Anton Zweiger and the entire Rodofascist Party of Kodor for their tireless fight against our greatest enemy, cosmopolite communalism. Through our joint efforts, the Communal Federation will return into the fold of the Empire and remember its place in the racial hierarchy established by Sevra herself.

[the-trinket-witch]

More Steampunk AU Places of Interest

(in collaboration with @thecosmicjackalope )

Court of Miracles

Far out from anywhere civilized, in the wilds of the Twisted Wonderland will sometimes crop up small patches of a very destructive flora. If cultivated out of control, it can ravage a magical ecosystem, so it's mentioned in reference to a dwindling crimson patch in the hills. Supposedly it carpets the remains of a once grand city that would have rivaled Nightraven. These Crimson Flowers subsist on attracting magically-imbued animals via pheromones. the Patch has since voided the ground of any magic, effectively salting the area of anything ever magically growing there again.

This plant thankfully is self-contained in the far reaches away from civilization, but if one looks below Nightraven, in its vast sewer system, one might catch glimpse of a small crimson glow.

Who would dare bring such a ravaging plant to such a magical hot-bed such as Nightraven? Only someone who has a vendetta against the mages above. One Rollo Flamme stalks the Nightraven Sewers, has made the waterways his home. He's also opened 'his doors' to those that the magical city had thrown away, cast out, or let slip through the cracks. For a city as large as Nightraven, it's no wonder he'd found detractors who despised magic and the mages who wielded it as much as he did. But with a growing population of zealots, where are they to go? Where do the homeless, downtrodden, and unabashedly shameless degenerates to go?

From the 'shallows' close to the entry, the homeless make camp. Delving further into the darkness would cross you with those willing to sell anything to get a quick madol. From addictive substances, to 'found' items, and all manner of 'services'. Further exploration of the system-on Rollo's part-helped him discover a large portion in the center of the network. But as There he would create a home away from the world above. A place those the sewers were considered home. Where he could congregate those who wanted to see the city above get what's coming to them. A place everyone could hold government over themselves. A 'Court of Miracles' in a way. In a way it was miracle that anyone can survive in such a place. But, if you're a mage, it'd be a miracle if you return from it alive.

Jubilee Port

While the East End lays across the emptying of the River, guarding the bay as an import hub, the Jubilee Port is the final stop for exports before going out into the world. A much older part of the City, this place has embraced all manner of culture since its inception. It seems as if every week, something new is being given celebration. 

While on paper, Crowley has reign over the entirety of the City, in the Port, everyone knows who really runs things. The true king of the Jubilee Port wears purple, not black. Owned by the current head and last living relative of the Laveau family, the Laveau Shipping Company trades goods of all sorts, bolstering both local business and products as well as being instrumental in Nightraven City’s economy. Everything going out has to pass by the scrutiny of his violet eyes, and so far his judgement has not led to anyone's dissatisfaction. But material things aren't the only thing to pass through the Port or Sam's shop. Information holds just as much, if not more, value in Nightraven as any crate of goods. And Sam knows his and its worth. If one dares question or attempt to shortchange the man, know that he has plenty of 'Friends on The Other Side' to help negotiate. 

While Sam is adored the Port over, it isn't to say he's universally liked. Rumors of the man taking part in forbidden magic didn't stem from Jubilee, but the Little Atlantica District on the East End. Who else would spread such a rumor than a competitor like Azul Ashengrotto? When not spreading petty gossip about each other, more heated exchanges take to the streets. There have been casualties as a result, but that's the price of doing business. Make no mistake - Jubilee Port will receive you with open arms, a kind smile, and a lively welcome party. But at the end of the day, this district is home to survivors from all walks of life, and when push comes to shove, this close-knit community will stand by each other before bowing to their enemies, outsiders, or even Mayor Crowley himself. 

[rattlebear25]

SMALL SPM STINKy LORE IDEAaaaaaaaa! (lol)

"Long... very long time ago there was nothing. Just a cold void. No stars. No planet. Nothing of nothing...

Then there came the Ancients. A bunch of really powerful beings. No one knows how they born. They were just... there.

And they created the worlds. Also the ones of a untouchable and invisibile reality.

They were a lot, but i quote the most powerfuls:

Merlimbis was the first one. She was a powerful witch expert in potion mixing. Her husband was Merlight, a really witting god. He helped his wife to appreciate technology and mixing somehow magic and mechanic. Some of their experiments went fine like Fracktail and the Pixls.

But a lot of them... failed.

They created abominations like a shapeshifter spider girl, white whispering hands and shadows.

One day Merlight tried to control the Pixls with the creations of a robot called Pixl Queen who went crazy because of wrong gears montages. So they imprisoned all these freaks in the 100 Trial Maze in the sewers of Flopside, a dark city.

The Second one was Merloo, the hunger and most anxious of the group. Since he was scared overthought about the future events, he made two books. The first one was called the Light Prognosticus and it was wrote with some golden liquid fallen from the Sun. This book should inform the Ancients of fortunate and happy events. Then Merloo wrote another book: the Dark Prognosticus, with some dying futureteller's tears. Created to inform the Ancients about awful future events early, so they could prepare themselves early.

The last two Ancients were Merlumina and Merlim (aka past Dimentio lol)

The first one was a love sick gal and the second one a narcissist guy. If the first couple worked perfectly fine (Merlight and Merlimbis) this last couple was completely messed up. At first, Merlim was in love with his wife Merlumina but truly he started to be secretly obsessed with the failed experiment Mimi (the Spider Girl). And faked to love Merlumina just because his own goals. Merlumina was the guardian of the Pure Hearts, the objects that balance the entire cosmos.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Complete random story. I was reading something about the Ancients and Dimentio and i discovered some theories of Dimi being Shadoo's brother and son of the magician who created the Pixls. My take of the story is a bit different and messy because these stuff were all scrapped ideas for a freaking AU that is completely gone (since i abandoned the idea of making AUs in general because they require a lot of time and they get never finished.) So this is a mix of old stinky ideas i had in 2022. I write these silly texts just in my spare time and because my artstyle is completely different from the original SPM game so it won't fit the original designs and lore. And i like giving a sense to what i draw lol.

[mossavery]

Liminal mowed grass

I sit on a raised entrance to the sewers, only steps away from the edge of the mowed grass.

The sun is setting behind me, bathing the small, unkempt patch of forest that grows along the road in a beautiful golden light.

Nobody sits here. Nobody spends time here. They park their cars in the lot behind me, go into the convenience store, buy something, walk back to their cars, get in, and leave on the road in front of me.

Who is this grass mowed for? I guess the maintenance workers who may need access to the manhole I sit on? How often are they here?

This space is living. The power lines buzz, birds fly overhead, bugs and other small creatures move through the mowed grass, larger creatures rustle leaves just beyond it. The wind blows, the sun shines. Other times, rain and snow dampen the ground. Does anyone care? Does anyone know they could care?

This place is a void in the memories of most passers by. It exists outside the bounds of their perception, or at least their memory. A space that, in some ways, barely exists.

But I still sit here. Listening, breathing, watching, perceiving, caring. This place exists in my mind. I guess, right now, the grass is mowed for me.