[SIDESTORY] Morbit Oneshots (18+)

[skinstealer]

here's where we put all the misc one-off stuff that qualifies as 18+ rated! any team member can contribute to this thread, comments are allowed, and stories will be added to a table of contents here.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

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Pillow Talk- 2020
Ringor Mortis + B. Comorant, Punch Clock Animal/General Morbit
CW: Sexual content, implications of past sexual/physical abuse (nothing explicit)
Chelsea and Bucket try something new.

Promise - 2020
Rin + Shivers, Punch Clock Animal, etc.
CW: implied abuse/torture, cults, death, implied violence
Bazil finds something new in Hell.

3:00 AM - 2020
Shivers + Rin, Patchwork Kernel, Punch Clock Animal
CW: implied sexual/physical abuse (nothing explicit), violence
Pepper tries the vending machine.

[skinstealer]

B-144- 2017
Ringor Mortis, Punch Clock Animal/Universal Constants (Takes place after Maybequest)
CW: Child abuse
Maes meets B-144, another resident at the lab.

---

Your mother’s claws are digging into your shoulder as you’re lead down the hallway- it smells different here, and even the doors, identical to the ones in the wings you know, feel unfamiliar. It’s quieter here, and you can’t tell if you like that more or less than the racket in your siblings’ halls. You don’t think there’s any here, and you’re too afraid to ask. Your mother has that gleam in her eye again, the kind she got when she was up to something that end with at least one of your siblings in tears, at best. 

Considering she singled you out today, your chances of avoiding that are zero.

“Maes,” she says in her jingling voice, and the sound of glee there makes you very uneasy. “Do you know what today is?”

“Yes, mother.”

“And what would that be?”

“It’s my birthday.”

“That’s right, and you’re ten. A whole decade, Maes! How does that feel?”

“It feels...good, mother.”

Her smile fades, but the look in her eye remains.

“That’s very interesting to hear. Why does it feel good?”

You are very quickly realizing it was a trap, but you’re not even sure what for. What should you have said? What did you say wrong, she’s still looking at you-

“I….I don’t know.” You stammer out, avoiding eye contact. She grabs your chin and tilts your head up to face hers. 

“You don’t know? Then why did you say it feels good, if you don’t even know why?” She doesn’t wait for your answer, digging her claws in just to hurt. “What do we always say about this, Maes?”

“Feelings...” You can barely talk with her hand squeezing so tight. “Feelings have to have reasons, or they aren’t valuable.”

“Or?”

“Logical.” She releases your face and you stagger a bit. 

“You’re ten years old, Maes. Remember what you’ve been taught. Now, come with me.”

“Yes, mother.” You watch as she unlocks a door, grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. 

The room is better kept than the ones your siblings get, but of a similar size- there is another child here, laying on a bunk bed. She startles when she sees your mother and scrambles to attention, throwing the book she was reading aside.

“Hello, B-144, how are you?”

“I’m well, ma’am! Thank you for the visit today!” The girl was a pockitt, and way shorter than you- but there’s something about her you can’t pin down.

 Your first thought is that your mother’s going to have you fight her, and your second is that this other child may actually beat you. Even with her size, she looks even more fit than you are and far less hesitant towards violence. You think you see a bruise or two around her arms, and that makes you even more worried. Your train of thought is derailed by your mother clapping her hand onto your shoulder, making you jump.

“Maes, this is B-144. I’ve had her in my care since a few years before you were born”

“Oh...is she my sister?”

She laughs, and it takes her a second to collect herself. “Oh, god, no. No. B-144 is nowhere near the level of perfection you are.”

The girl doesn’t even flinch at her harsh words, keeping her back straight. Your mother continues.

“No, B-144 is….a gift. From an old patient. She’s very clever- aren’t you, 144?”

“Yes, ma’am! I finished my math work earlier this week. I’m studying very hard for the upcoming exams.”

“Very good! You see, Maes, only you…” She frowns slightly. “And your sisters, have received education from me. You three were the only ones I trusted to retain and use the knowledge I give you, instead of wasting my time. 144 receives the same education the guards do, and yet...she excels at it, enough to get my notice.”

“Is she going to become a guard?”

“No, not anymore. That was my original plan, but! But. I have decided she has a far more useful purpose.”
She leans in, her eyes unblinking. “You see, you’re ten years old now. 144 is twelve, and I expect you to be far beyond her in your studies, seeing as you’re so gifted, and taught formally by myself. But that’s where you’ve failed me, Maes.”

If you had blood, it would run cold.

“Do you remember that test you took, the other day?”

“Y-yes, mother.”

“I have given 144 the very same test, and she surpassed you in all categories. All of them. I expect so much more from you.”

You think you see the girl shift uncomfortably, and she sends you an apologetic look- by her expression, she didn’t know anything about this.

“Given all of the luxuries and love I’ve given you, at ten, you should be doing far better. I was so disappointed to read those results, but I realized I could fix things.”

Her grin returns. 
“You’ve grown lazy without your sisters to compete with, and while this child can never aspire to be near such high status, she will serve under you well.”

“What?!” The girl raises her voice, clapping her claws over her mouth at her own outburst. Luckily for her, your mother is too busy staring dead into your eyes, her grin reaching the sides of her face. 

“Since you are ten, it’s time to start teaching you how to lead this facility, so that you may aid me when you are older. From now on, she will serve not only as your academic tutor but as the first staff member you have say over.”

“She w-works for me?”

“Stop stuttering and asking things I just explained, Maes. Please.”

“Sorry, mother...What does she do?”

“For the duration of your current studies, tutor will do just fine. However, as you begin training for your more advanced skills, such as surgery, she will be your assistant. She is to aid you in anything you ask.”

“Do I get a choi-” 144 tries to speak up, and your mother hits her without even turning to face her- not very hard, but enough to knock the girl back. The girl sniffs and pulls herself up, even now trying to keep a brave face. “...sorry, ma’am.”

“Did you see that, Maes? She may be a good student, but she’s been known to have a rebellious streak. She speaks out of turn even now, at twelve. She may have you beaten in schooling, but you can teach her in the ways of manners, and professionalism- be firm with her. Very, very firm. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mother.”

“And do you understand, 144?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very good! Maes, I need to check in with the guards of this block- why don’t you stay here and get to know your new employee?”

You nod, and she slams the door behind her. The two of you stand silently until you’re sure she’s gone, only turning to each other when you’re sure the click of her heels has faded.

“....”

“....”

“So...are you going to hit me? Like your mom?”

“N-no! No, I wouldn’t…”

“You don’t look like her at all, so I guessed not. She looks mean, and you just look...I don’t know, lost.”

You look down at your feet and sit on the floor without a word.

“Hey, hey! I didn’t mean anything by it. I just...I get it. I’m lost too.”

She sits with you, and extends a hand. “I probably don’t get it in the same way you do, but I’m Synna.”

“I thought your number-”

“Fuck numbers.” You startle visibly at her cursing, and she grins. You are very, very grateful your mother wasn’t here to hear that and punish you both. “I picked it out of a book I read once, and now it’s mine. You like it?”

“It’s...cool.”

“Yeah, it is! That’s what I thought!”

You’re seeing more bruises on her now that you’re sitting, and you have absolutely no idea how someone with that many can be so perky, when just a single hit used to put you in a mental hole for days.

“How...how do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“How are you...okay after that?”

“Oh, the slap?” She touches the spot on her face where your mother’s hand made contact. “I dunno...I’ve been here a long time, since I was a baby. You get used to it.”

“You do? You do get used to it?”

“Yeah, not in a good way I don’t think...but I try not to think about it, I guess.”

You let it sink in. “Do you think when I’m twelve, like you, it won’t hurt anymore?”

“Maybe. That’s kind of hard to say...but, hey. If we both live, and don’t get eaten-” She makes a silly face and you can’t help but laugh a little. “-You’ll be twelve, and I’ll be fourteen, and we’ll be unstoppable. You’re my boss now, right? Well, I’ll be the best damn assistant you’ve ever had-”

“You’re the only assistant I’ve ever had.”

“As of like, ten minutes! And I’m going to be the only one, because I’ll be the best. Your  mom won’t be able to punish either of us if we work together, right?”

“We could try.”

“Awesome.” She sticks out a hand, and you stare at it for a good few seconds. “We’re friends now, right?”

“Oh, I...I guess so!” You shake her hand, and you feel a smile creep onto your face for the first time in ages. As she runs over to show you the books she’s been reading, you feel like maybe this would work out, maybe this once.

[skinstealer]

After Hours- 2020
Ringor Mortis + B. Comorant, Punch Clock Animal/Universal Constants
CW: Mentions of surgery/body horror
Maes and Charon do some lab clean up.

---

The Menagerie interns had cleared out the operating room as best they could, leaving Maes, head surgeon of the labs, behind to finish tidying up. She had insisted on it, not wanting anyone to touch her tools, not even her assistant, Charon.  It had been a messy surgery ended on emergency circumstances, barely avoiding injury to both the client and the doctors themselves.

"I must admit, I was anticipating things to fumble for the worse at first." Charon treaded carefully around the recently mopped floors. "It was quite a close call, I do not take this is a frequent scenario."

Maes was lingering by the operating table, carefully touching her tools and ensuring they were all put back in their places. It had become a routine, locations of every instrument memorized by touch alone. "No, that sort of thing is a rarity...I suspect the patient had mutations they refused to divulge beforehand."

"Mm. Their biological structure was... peculiar. Discreet enough perhaps to seem like something else on a X-Ray?"

"Enough to get past our initial scans..." She grimaced. "Either they're discreet, or someone's going to have to explain themselves. A chest cavity shifting into a mouth without warning could have cost us lives, or at the very least, limbs."

"Will the client be alright in the longer term?"

"It's hard to say."

"Mm... what were they even here for?"

"Organ transplant...ideally they'll pull through the night in their current state, because otherwise-" Her grimace worsened. "I don't know how we're supposed to operate on something like that, especially when it was able to lash out so violently even while under anesthetic."

"Is there not a strong enough sedative?"

"There is, but..."

"Mm?"

She left him hanging, carefully packing her tools away without a word.

Charon got to unplugging any machinery left in the outlets, not wanting to pry. "Any plans after today's shift?"

"I'm not the type to ‘make plans’."

"No? Not at all?"

"Does that bore you?"

"Just somewhat surprised."

"What kind of glamorous lifestyle did you expect me to have?"

"Something more exciting than what I had planned. I would've tagged along."

"You're planning on following me home, then." She raised a brow, the motion just barely noticeable under the wraps on her eyes.

"You just... go straight back?"

"Mm. Every night, as long as I don't have work keeping me overtime...like now."

"Admittedly, today was especially long and I don't blame you for it. I'd offer you to join me but.. I don't think you'd find maintenance work exciting."

"Maintenance? Of what kind?"

Charon tapped his prosthetic legs together, making a distinctive clanking sound. "A few personal effects mainly, although I have a few pet projects I've been meaning to expand on. I try to get some done before bed."

 "Then I'd be following you back to your apartment, then." She tried not to sound as interested in the idea as she was, playing it off as a simple comment.

"Oh? No, I don't imagine it'd be up to your tastes."

"Where are you planning on doing these repairs then, hmm? On the ground, stealing a spare office, or perhaps a janitor's closet?"

"Were you genuinely considering it?" He smirked, unable to help himself.

"I'm simply curious about your methods here."

"I set up a makeshift workbench in my apartment so yes, it would be there."

"Hm." She stretched, checking the area around her for any loose objects with her tail. "You live in Housing Block B, correct?"

"Yes."

"You're on my way."

"Are you suggesting we walk back together?"

"You were the one who suggested 'tagging along'."

"You have a valid point. I don't mind."

She picked up her tool bag, holding it at her side. "Lead the way, then. We'll see how ‘up to my standards’ this apartment really is."

The dog started toward the door. "Do your best to keep up."

Maes followed, keeping a close distance. The hallways of the lab were almost labyrinthine, but Charon was learning the way it all worked...but his boss’s silence, that was something he couldn’t quite get used to. She wasn't much for talking off hours, and as expected, was quiet the entire way aside from a stifled cough or two.

“We're almost there, are you holding up?"

"I'm intact, yes." She swept her tail from one side of the hall to the other, feeling the walls. "It's been some time since I've been down this block."

 "Why's that?" The dog started fishing around through his pockets for his keys.

"It's as you said. I go straight back. The last time I was here, I had to drop something off for another employee and all of the interns were busy."

"I suppose that makes sense. This is the spot, don't expect too much." The dog fussed around with the door. "Although you should have put together that it won't be the most exciting thing in the world."

"I'm sure you'll find some way to make it worth my time." 

Charon tried not to read too much into her words, unlocking the door as calmly as he could. "Do watch your step then, try not to slam anything."

She stepped in after him, gently using her tail to feel out the area around her. "I know how to get around without breaking things."

"Mm, some of these things are quite on the volatile end." He stealthily tried to scoot anything that was slightly out of line against the walls. "To your right is where I store all spare materials and tools. Left is the bedding and particularly personal things like clothes and medication. Up ahead is my main workbench, really just a desk done up."

"You take medication?" She tried to find a place to sit with her tail, not wanting to sit on the bed right away if there were other options.

"Mm. Painkillers, cycle management, sleep, and the occasional seasonal allergy. You know the gist.... you can use my work chair. By the desk, just roll it around."

She walked over and took a seat, curling her tail around the base. "If you're in need of refills, we have a very good pharmacy- they even ship right to your mailbox."

"...I have a mailbox?"

"...did you not pay attention during orientation at all?" She folded her hands and pressed her face into them, doing her best not to sound too irritated. "They're at the start of the housing block. We literally passed them."

"Living spaces of this scale aren't exactly common amongst most labs across the continent. What you're managing is somewhat of a premium tier forerunner in many aspects."

"I'm aware of how expansive this facility is, and how much requires managing in the first place...the least you could do is pay attention to the services we provide, you're missing out on a lot of resources."

"It's noted."

"You could even apply for materials for your repair work, Synna can set you up with that..." She grew quiet as she realized she was rambling on, mildly embarrassed.

"The marsupial yes?"

"Have some tact, she has a name. But yes, the marsupial."

"Also noted. Personally I'd rather not take too much from the facility's pool, and recycling materials from the salvage is an art in its own right."

"You consider yourself an artist, then. You and Synna would have a lot to talk about on that front."

"Mm, she's a roboticist yes?"

 "Ironically enough, she also mainly specializes in prosthetic work."

"I don't take she's versed in lost tech though is she?"

"Not as far as I know, no."

"Unfortunate, I don't take there's anyone else in that field either?"

"We focus on moving forward, for the most part."

"Normally that's for the best but regarding the remodel it may be an issue." He walked over toward the workbench. "Some of it can be rather troublesome to dismantle through modern means, possibly a biohazard even."

"You mean of the old lab, correct?"

"Mmhmm."

"You'll definitely have to speak with Synna on that..." She tilted her head to the side for a moment, thinking. "You know, I think JB might have some knowledge on lost tech...he is an older model of construct, after all. Him being the head of renovations will help a lot, then- I can direct you to him tomorrow, even."

"Was he around when installation and maintenance were a factor for the old lab?"

"No one currently employed here was."

"Very troublesome but I can make do. I'd prefer staff who have a natural tolerance toward mutation too for this. safety concern."

"JB is immune, making him ideal for the job...I'll be able to make trips with you as well."

"Will you be alright for it yourself? Beyond exposure to possible mutation, there are potential structural issues and typical hazards such as molds and loose objects."

"Do I look so frail to you?"

"You keep the lights running here and you sign everyone's checks, you being hurt would be a massive issue for many."

She leaned forward in her chair, hands clasped beneath her chin. "And what if I told you I could survive any of those things, far better than you or anyone else in this lab could?"

"I can believe one of those things perhaps."

"Not all?" She paid close attention to his reactions, fishing just the tiniest bit. "Would you believe me if I said I could beat you in a fight?"

"A bold claim. What are your conditions?"

"Are you entertaining the idea? I'd hate to injure my new assistant so early."

"I'm not entertaining it without ground rules established."

"No touching my hair."

"Is that it?"

"I have no other concerns towards my own wellbeing. You may suggest whatever conditions you want towards yourself, I'd hope you know your limits and I'd hope even more that you'd be upfront about them.""

"I'm more worried about you if I'm frank."

"How would you have me demonstrate my strength, then?"

"I'd genuinely rather not risk hurting you."

"Something that doesn't require that as a possibility, then."

 "You can pick."

"...hm. I have one idea, but it's a little...undignified."

"Let me hear it anyway."

"Arm wrestling, with the caveat of just enough strength to win, and not to hurt."

"Hold out your hand, Boss. I want you to consider your next words carefully."

"We need a flat surface, don't we?"

"I want you to understand the circumstances fully before we proceed and do this for real."

"Very well." She held out her hand.

He placed his articulated mechanical hand in hers. "You feel that?"

"Mm." She held it loosely.

"It goes quite a way far up. Feel free to examine."

She traced her hand up his arm slowly, studying it.

"It'd be dangerous for you, there is no 'until it hurts' so to speak."

"I suppose that's fair..." Her hand lingered on his arm for a noticeable moment before pulling away.

He smirked, the sheer smug energy enough to be felt by her without looking.

Maes sighed, flopping back into the chair dramatically. "Then there's nothing I can do to convince you I'm capable, then." 

"I'm sure we could manage something... I've taken quite a bit of time from you though."

"Would you like me to leave?"

"You don't have to."

"Then I choose to stay. Besides, I don't think I'll be satisfied until I've proven my capabilities to you." She crossed her arms. "I am not fragile."

"I never implied you were fragile."

"You don't seem to trust my assurance that you're not going to be able to hurt me." She rolled up her sleeve and extended her arm, bracing herself for touch. "Feel."

The dog pressed a finger down. Her arm had give to it, very obviously not made of typical karacel flesh. "....what's this?"

"Stronger than you give it credit for."

"I can't exactly feel too much with these hands  but... the indentation left by my hand is unusual."

"You were concerned about my exposure to horror, weren't you? If you were more knowledgeable on the topic, you might recognize this trait."

"...that doesn't line up, this requires intensive mutations. Terror level."

She fell quiet, not ready for him to find the conclusion so quickly.

"This isn't something that tends to occur naturally, especially not while retaining cognitive functions."

"You know more about this than I gave you credit for."

"My job requires it really. Horror is a recurring occupational hazard."

"...my apologies then, for assuming."

"Considering the nature of the assignment, it's fair to press whether I did the research or not."

"But even with your knowledge here, you aren't sure what to make of it- what to make of me."

"There's a small list of possible answers and they all make me worry about you."

"Are you afraid that I'll turn into a terror and devour you?" She bared her teeth, just for a moment. "Or are you filled with dread over realizing you're this close to me?"

"A terror would be easier to take out and..." The dog pressed a finger against her nose, praying that she wouldn’t pick up on how hard his heart was pounding after even a flash of her teeth. "I don't see what you mean by the latter."

She resisted the immediate urge to bite his finger, knowing it’d leave to a chipped tooth at best. "You're right next to someone who by all reasonable logic, should not be able to exist safely in the same room as another person. If you're not worried about that, then what?"

"If you wanted me dead there's been more than enough chances. I can't be mutated so I'm not worried about being long term exposed to a potential parody either."

"...if you're not worried about me, then...you're worried for me?" She looked legitimately taken aback.

"Mm."

"Why?"

"Born monsters don't mutate like that. Mutation patterns like yours are too... precise. Either you've been put through selective exposure, or you've been doing work that exposed you consistently for long periods of time. Both have horrible implications attached."

"...you're the first person to ever notice."

"You don't seem like the type to like to let anyone get this close... much less spend this much of your evening in another's apartment."

"Perhaps I'm finding you to be an exception."

"I'll take that as a victory."

"You've earned it, considering you didn't flinch for even a moment when I tried intimidating you back there."

His tail wagged. "Yes well... you probably shouldn't expect to get a flinch from me."

"Mm, your reaction is much different. Strange, even."

"How so?"

"Most people would have run and hid, but you seem to almost enjoy it." She leaned back. "Or am I off the mark?"

"I'm just very confident in myself when I need to be."

"Hm. We'll put it like that for now."

"Mm... I've kept you here for so long now though, certainly you're tired?"

"I'm fi-" She couldn't help but yawn, looking incredibly irritated with herself as she did.

He raised a brow. "Sure. I could... walk you back if you'd like."

"It's a whole housing block away."

"Exactly, I need to keep you awake."

"Very well." She got to her feet carefully, reaching down for her tool bag. "Do you know how to get to Block C from here? I can lead once we enter the block, but I'm unfamiliar with this area..."

"Of course, I've met up with you close to your room prior to shift before."

"Take me away, then." She reached out to hold onto his sleeve. "...it's for stability."

The dog offered his hand, trying not to seem too excited. "Understood."

She hesitated for just a moment before taking it, lacing her claws in his.

[SHIVERS]

Promise - 2020
Rin + Shivers, PCA etc.
CW: implied abuse/torture, cults, death, implied violence
Bazil finds something new in Hell.

---

---

---

Bazil’s on duty- the same old, same old.
Go through the maze-like halls, ignore the people nailed to the walls screaming for help, and try not to get too pissy about cultists shoving past him.
All of it grates against his brain like a knife on a grindstone, but he’s used to it.
It'd been like this for years, and it wasn't going to change any time soon.

Bazil hadn't gone through this particular hallway in quite a while, and something new catches his eye- a cell, isolated off down a short hallway by itself.
Blankets were hung up inside, four or five of them laid out; one covering the lower portion of some of the bars, while the others had been crudely strung to make a tent-like structure. Some of the blankets had slipped, not really being held on by much, but enough remained to keep the overall shape.
A small, thin mattress - presumably belonging to the empty cot in the room - is propped towards the back, next to the blanket fort.

Nothing else is currently visible inside, and the cell is quiet, almost refreshingly so compared to the rest of the maze.

"..." 
Bazil stops in his tracks, peeking into the cell.
Nobody told him about this addition, and he wasn't expecting something so… cute, almost.
He can see over the entirety of the blanket fort from this angle, able to take in how small it was comparatively, despite the large number of blankets making it up.
Being this close, he also spots the tiniest hint of a tail tip sticking out from under one of the fort's edges.

"...hey."

A quick scrape is heard as something scrambles from underneath the blankets, the tail tip immediately disappearing from view.
It pulled on the blanket as it went in, causing it to start to droop.
The blanket is held back up after just a moment, but that section of the fort is already starting to collapse, looking like it would cave at any second.

"Your uh, little house looks like it's in trouble there."

Hearing that voice again seems to startle them, and half the blankets come falling down, one of them sliding off of the figure beneath, revealing them.

A tiny grey pockitt child is sitting on the floor, blankets now all at their sides.
They have a few scratches - some fairly deep, some looking recent - and they were a little bit thin, but otherwise looked healthy.

Their face, though, tells a different story.

The pockitt's eyes are dry and puffy around the sides, with dark spots underneath them.
The fur around their cheeks is messy, and currently wet.
They'd been facing the wall when the blanket came off, and they still stare straight ahead at it; eyes open wide, body visibly shaking.

Too afraid to look at whoever was addressing them.

And they knew better than to speak out.

"...didn't know they started keeping kids here now."
Bazil hesitates before kneeling at the bars, trying to make himself look a little less intimidating.
"When'd you get here?"

The pockitt flinches when he kneels down.
They turn to face him now, shaking worse than before.
When they respond, they act as if they hadn't even heard his question.

"I'm s... sorry about the blankets, I can-''
They swallow.
"Put em back. Don't t... tell Holiday. Please?" 

Before he can even answer, they look as if he'd already said no. 
The pockitt pulls one of the blankets that had fallen down, offering it up to him. 
"I can... I can give you one. If you don't tell.
Or two. Just don't tell. Okay? …Please? "

"I'm not gonna tell on you for making a fort, and I don't need your blankets.
Surprised they even gave you any, hold onto those."

They watch him for what feels like a long time, the room silent. 

"...Did I do something else bad?"

"Uh...no? I mean, you're probably gonna get shit for the fort, but I'm not gonna rat you out."

"W-Why are you here, then?"

"Just passing by. Never even heard they were keeping a kid down here."

It takes them just as long to ask the next question.

"...Are you going to hurt me...?
...It was just so I could sleep, I wasn't trying to get the blankets dirty.
I p... promise."

"No? No.
I don't care if you get the blankets dirty, not like you can keep 'em clean in this place to begin with."

They clutch the blanket they’re holding a little closer.
"...Are you... with everybody else?"

"Eh..." He doesn't know exactly what to say. "It's complicated."

They pause for a little while.
"I c-can't... I can't get the blankets to stay up good."
They demonstrate by gently hanging it between the bed and a few of the bars.
It promptly begins to droop, with the pockitt having to hold it in place with their paws.
"...Can you help? Is that okay?"

"I, uh. Never done something like that before."
He grimaces, not sure what to do.
"...If I do, it has to be our secret, okay?"

"I won't tell anybody."

Bazil fishes around in his pocket, taking out a ring of keys.
"One of these probably works, gimme a sec..."

The pockitt watches intently for a second, then gets back to what they were doing, trying in vain to keep the different corners up. 
Bazil manages to find the right one, unlocking the gate and quickly stepping inside.
"Uh...Sorry that I can't let you out- you'd get caught for sure, and it'd be a hell of a lot worse for you than it is just staying in here."

The pockitt starts shaking once again when he enters, but doesn't turn around to look at him.
They’re holding one of the corners up against the side of the cage.
"C-Can you get the other side?"

He walks over to the other side, staring blankly at the blankets before holding one corner up.



"Like this?"



The pockitt sprints for the open door.

"Shit-"

He dives for them, managing to catch their ankle. 

"Kid, I'm serious, it's a lot worse out there than it is in here!"

They hit the ground, scraping their knee on the floor as they grunt, reaching for the door and wriggling in Bazil's grasp. 

Bazil pulls them into his lap as best as he can with just the one arm, trying not to snarl and freak the kid out more. 
"Quit wiggling, I'm trying to save your ass here." 

He can hear them sniffling, trying in vain to hold back tears, which now fall onto his arm.
Their body feels rigid in his grip, as if they’re tensing up in anticipation of something. 
"P... Please... I'm s... s-sor-" 
Their breath hitches, making it difficult to speak.

Bazil isn't sure what to do, mainly just trying to keep a good hold on them.
 "Look, uh… kid. Kid."

They stopped wriggling, and their body instead went limp as they began to cry against him, albeit quietly.

"Kid, I appreciate your guts, but… I know what it's like outside this cage.
You don't want that."

The pockitt turns and hugs him, their voice muffled.
"I don't- … don't know what to do."
Their voice gets smaller as they go on.
"I don't like it here. It's bad everywhere. ...I don't know how to get out."

"I know. It...fucking sucks here.
To understate it, by a lot."

They pull back a little and look up at him, eyes blurry and red.
"What do I do? They..." 
Tears begin to stream down their face once more. 
"They hurt m-my... dad. They said... he... h-he..."

Bazil falls quiet, giving them space to talk.

"He's... gone.
...Dead.
Th-They said he's dead. M-My sister, too, they..."
They’re almost incoherent at this point, choking back sobs.
"Th-They're gone, I don't have-
N-Nobody can help me get-
Is... Is someone... Is somebody gonna come help?
S-Someone's gonna... gonna come help, right?
I can't do it... I don't know how... I-I can't..."

"...nothing lasts forever, kid.
This included."

Pleading eyes look close into Bazil's.
"A-Are you... here to help... me?"

"I...don't know if I can."
He avoids eye contact.
"I'm sorry."

They sniffle, but hold his arm, speaking quietly.
"Do you need help, too?"



"...yeah.
I'm in the same boat as you, kid."

The little pockitt hugs him again, though this time it seems like they’re attempting to comfort Bazil instead.
"...It's okay.
It'll be okay.
I think... I think we can do it.

...right?"

"Right."
He hesitantly gives them a pat on the head.
"You don't gotta try to make me feel better."

"...Oh."
They scoot back out of his lap.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want... you to be sad, um..."

The pockitt finally takes a good look at Bazil now, studying over him.
"...I-I like your horns..."

"Eh?"
He pokes at the horns, still keeping a careful eye on the kid.
"Think they're cool?"

They nod, smiling just a little.
"Kind of hardcore, right?"

"What's that mean?"

"It means...cool, but in a sick way.
Good sick. Sometimes."

They look utterly confused.

 "Uh...it means they're super cool."

"Ohh." They nod, trying to catch on.
"Can I touch em?"

"Just don't pull or anything. Be careful." He leans down for them.

They very gently feel over one of them, briefly holding it with their paw.
"Woahhh..."
They knock on it, listening to the dull thud.
"...Hardcore."

Bazil tries not to visibly wince at the knocking, giving them a thumbs up.
"Hardcore."

A big smile spreads across the pockitt’s face.
"I want horns..."

"Not like these, you don't.
They're uh, not really fastened on good.
You'd want better ones."

The kid looks concerned.
"Oh, I'm sorry.
Did I hurt em?"

"Nah...you were careful, just like I asked.
You're all good."

"Okay." 



They look down at the floor. 
"...Do you wanna be friends?"

"You promise to try not to escape?
I mean… I can't blame you, but you'd need a way better plan than just booking it like that."

"Promise you won't leave without me?"

"I mean… I'm in kind of a weird situation, kid."
He scratches the back of his head.
"I got somebody waiting for me out there.
I don't know if I'll ever get outta here, but I don't know if I can wait."

The kid frowns.
"Then I can't promise not to go.
...I can make a plan, like you said."

"Yeah.
I guess you can, but only if you make a plan first, a good one.
One that can't afford to fuck up."

"I can do it.
...You shouldn't say bad words."

"Saying bad words is good for you when you're in a place like this."

"But my dad says that they're mean.
...You can say them, but I don't really want to."

"Then don't, you don't gotta.
But for me, I see this place as a lot meaner than a few cuss words."

They nod. "...Yeah."
The pockitt sits down on the blanket pile.
"Who's waiting for you?
...If I get out first, I can tell them. We can come get you."

"Well...I don't know them too well, but my uh, friend, Chelsea, she's..."
He tries not to grimace.
"In love with them, I guess."

"What's their name?
Is your friend in here too?"

"Their name is Bucket, and, yeah.
Chelsea's here too. It's kind of complicated."

The pockitt can't help but snicker a little.
"Kinda funny name... Not very hardcore.
What's your name? ...I still wanna be friends."

"Oh, Bucket's like, the least hardcore name ever. Fits them.
And, uh, I'm Bazil."

"Oh, cool! I like your name."
They hop up off the blanket pile and held out a paw.
"My dad says you gotta shake when you meet somebody."

He takes it, making sure not to grip too hard.
"Your dad sounds like he has a good head on his shoulders."

The pockitt shakes.
They aren't sure what Bazil means, but don't really want to talk about it.
"So... can we be friends? ...I'm sorry I cried. I promise I'm hardcore."

"Eh, it's alright...people can't help but cry sometimes, I guess.
I won't tell a soul."

They frown. "Okay…
...Do you not wanna be friends?
I'm sorry for touching your horns..."

"You didn't fuck up with the horns-
I mean, I don't know if I'm really a good guy for it…
I'm kind of rough round the edges and people say my attitude's pretty shitty.
Kid like you needs better influences than that."

He sighs, finally making eye contact.
"But if you really want to be my friend despite that..."

"Rough around the edges... cause of the horns?" They aren't sure what he means at all.
"It's okay that you have horns, I still wanna be friends.
I like you.
You're nice to me."

"...yeah, let's go with that."
He manages a crooked smile.
"Guess we're friends, then."

They grin back at him.
"Okay!
I wanna meet Chelsea, too.
If she's your friend then I want us all to be friends.
Do you have any other friends here?"

"Hold on, hold on-
I don't even know your name, kid.
Gotta swap proper."

"Pepper! See?"
They point to some darker grey freckles on their cheek.
"Looks like pepper, right?"

"Huh. We both got spice names."

"Bazil's a spice?"

"Yeah, never had it though."

"Do you think they taste good together?"

"Hell if I know, they sure don't cook with any spices here.
Or cook at all." He smirks.

"I don't like the food.
I don't like meat. It's..." They stick out their tongue. "...bleeegh."

"I'll try to sneak you some outside food sometime.
No promises."

Their face lights up.
"You get to go outside?!"

"Yeah, but I'm still a prisoner… just on a leash."

They look at his neck, confused.

He taps the collar around his neck.
"Metaphorical leash usually, but they've hooked up a real one plenty of times."

"Oh, I'm sorry...."
They sit back down on the blankets.
"Are they gonna do that to me?"

"Hard to say.
I never even knew they were keeping you down here, so… can't really say what their plans are."

They think for a little while.
"Do you want me to take your collar off for you?"

"Can't."
His hand lingered on it.
"It's, uh… stuck. Doesn't come off."

They reach their paws up.
"Can I try?"

"You're not gonna get too far, kid."
He leans down for them anyway, not sure why he’s indulging this to begin with.

They grasp it and look for some kind of latch.
Finding none, they start pulling as hard as they can.

"Ow, ow-!
Careful.
Like I said, it's not going anywhere."

Instead of pulling at it by itself, which was straining it against his neck, they pull it in different directions this time, attempting to tear it apart without hurting Bazil. 
It doesn't budge in the slightest, almost as if it was fused to him. 
They keep trying, harder this time, starting to tear up.

"Kid, it's okay."

"But you don't like it!"

"Sometimes grown ups have to go through with shit we don't like. Kids too."

They let go.
"But I wanna help..."

"I mean, guess you helped me have a better day than I was expecting.
Maybe that counts."

They frown.
"I wanna help you better.
You're my friend."

"Best way you can help me right now is to make your own life better, even if it's hard in this hellhole.
You got that?"

"But that's not helping you..."

"Sure it is.
Makes me worry less, that helps."

They look frustrated, but nod anyway.
The pockitt seems to get an idea, though.
"Would a hug help, too?"

"...yeah. Go ahead."
He awkwardly held his arm out.

They don't hesitate to give him the biggest hug they can muster.
"I'm gonna get that off, okay?
It'll be okay."

"Yeah." He doesn't say much else, not sure what to do about this whole hug situation either.

They seem to sense that something isn't right and pull away. 
"...Was it a bad hug? I know you're bigger than me."

"Nah, it's a good hug… just not used to em."

"I can do something else!"

"Maybe like.
A high five."

They smile and hold their paw up.

He gives them a high five, solid but not too hard. "Bam."

They smile, but put their paw to their chin after.
"...A hug is still better, though.

...Oh!"
They turn and dive under what was left of the blanket fort, rummaging around for a bit before crawling back out.

They hide something behind them, sporting a big grin.
"Close your eyes, hold out your paw."

"Alright, no funny business."
He closes his eyes. 

Something soft is placed into his paw, light and almost raggedy. 
He peeks just a bit-

"Tada!" Pepper’s beaming.

A life-sized plush toy of a typeless TCP sits there.
Any color it used to have has faded completely into a dull tan.
One of its eyespots is missing, and it looks like it’s just barely held together at this point.

"I found it.
It's kinda messed up but it's still good.
I like to hug it when I sleep, so maybe you can hug it.
Plus if Holiday found it he'd get really mad, so you can have it."

 "...Thanks, kid." 
He manages another smile, completely genuine. 
"I'll try to take good care of it."

They smile back, happy to see Bazil smiling. 
"It's really messed up so be careful with it, okay? If you--"

Pepper freezes.
Distant footsteps echo down the hall.

"...I better get out of here, kid.
I'll cover for you." 
He gets to his feet quickly, moving without hesitation towards the door.



The pockitt whispers after him. 

"Will you come back?"



"...Yeah.

I promise."

[skinstealer]

Marinade - 2020
Ringor Mortis + B. Comorant, Punch Clock Animal/Universal Constants
No content warnings
Charon gets Maes to try something new. 

---

Maes collapsed into her chair, taking in the silence of her apartment. Today's work had been hard, harder than usual, and she was starting to wonder why she even bothered with the job. She wished someone could take all this away from her, even if only for a moment.

She'd give anything for that.

Charon of course was already settling into the room to prepare dinner, his recently found employer being surprisingly quick to welcome him in despite their rough initial meeting. 

"Boss, you don't have any allergies of sorts do you?"

"No. I'm capable of eating nearly any substance known to sapience."

"Mm. I plan to make something that can be called more than a mere substance. I take it you prefer your meat a little closer to rare?"

"...what's wrong with my usual dinner?"

“Nothing, but if you don't mind too much I'd like to expand your palette just a little."

"I'm fine with the usual." She tilted her head back towards the sound of his voice. "There's no need to expand any palettes."

"I assure you, give me the opportunity and you will not regret it." He pulled out a crate with slabs of meat in a marinade and started taking measures with the stove.

 "...fine. But if it isn't to my tastes, I'm insisting we keep to my regular diet."

"It'll be fine, I promise you. Once you smell it cooking you'll want to try it."

"Mm." She leaned over her desk, reaching into her bag and taking out some paperwork. It always seemed to pile up more and more with each day, an endless stream of things for her to file and Charon to translate into common.

Charon dropped a slab on the pre-heated pans and oils, making a intense sizzling sound on contact. "I was trained to personally cook for employer and those within their circle so I do not plan to give you anything that could not pass at a reasonably decent restaurant."

 "I remember that from your resume. It wasn't really relevant to my needs, but I took note of it."

"You read through all of it yes? There's quite a few perks you have yet to take advantage of with a contractor, let alone a knight assistant."

"I like to think of myself as a fairly straightforward person." She said, without a hint of sarcasm. "I eat the same thing and I don't complain, and I keep to the bare essentials. I only take what I need."

"You could do better than that, someone in your position merits enjoying a homecooked meal after a hard day and... admittedly today was somewhat that."

"I've never needed that kind of treatment."

"You can be forgiven for wanting it."

"Forgiven by who, you?"

 "Whoever has you worried you're committing a crime."

"I- I'm not worried about that." She puffed up a little, defensive.

"Why is it so hard to enjoy things for yourself then?"

She didn't respond to that, hunching further over her paperwork.

"I assure you, once you've had a real meal you may find it difficult to return to the way things were. Come closer, take a whiff for yourself and you'll understand." He flipped the steak.

"I'm neck deep in paperwork, Judgment."

"Take a whiff then."

She leaned back, inhaling. Her ears perked up, her interest clear.

Charon’s smirk could be felt from across the room. "Good, isn't it?"

"It's...what is it?"

"I marinade meat from the cafeteria overnight using seasonings I picked up from local stores in the city next to us. It was a bit of a trip but I've stockpiled well. It's almost if you're ready to take a break to eat."

"That soon?"

"It's a little rare for your sake, I know you'd be adjusting to something new so I don't want to deviate so hard."

 "..." She set down her work, rising from her chair. "At the table, yes?"

"Mm, I'll set it shortly, you just get comfortable."

She walked over and settled down, coiling her tail around the kitchen chair.

"Just give me one more moment."

"Take your time."

"So I must wonder, why did you hire me over anyone else in line?"

"You were the most qualified. Most of the applicants barely scratched the surface of what we require, even in a contractor."

"And what did it for me? What defined me as qualified?"

"Your resistance to horror was a big draw, for one. We need someone to be able to clear out our underground floor without risking damage from the leaks."

"Even though it would be cheaper to find someone who lacked such a property?"

"Cheaper only in paycheck. Anyone not resistant would surely mutate and potentially even die, and that would cost us far more in the long run. I have no interest in being responsible for someone's death, Judgment."

"Mm. You know the rumors about this place make it seem like it'd be the other way around, I'm curious why they exist."

"It's best not to get involved in gossip." She tapped her claws on the table. "Though I do wonder what you've heard."

"That there's a well to hell at the lowest levels, that the one in charge could eat someone twice her size, and that many of the desert horrors come from here."

"And what do you think of these rumors?"

"Well... you're shorter than I pictured from all the stories."

"Mm." Her ears flopped back.

"Some of those also mentioned heat vision though which I don't have any way to confirm or deny yet."

"I do not have heat vision."

"I take you have heard some rumors about my line at some point too."

"I don't get out enough and I don't pay attention to gossip." She crossed her arms. "Feel free to entertain me with them, however."

"The problem is half of them are true."

"And perhaps the same could be said of mine."

"Which half?"

"That's for you to find out."

"Mm... well for now I could perhaps confirm one." The dog slid a pile of steaks onto the table on a plate.

"Are you looking to find if I can eat twice my size?"

"Maybe, or perhaps something else. Do you need a fork?"

"I'm expected to have one."

"Do you want one?"

"...no."

"Go right ahead."

Maes reached forward and took one of the steaks, flashing her teeth before taking a huge chomp. Charon’s tail flicked, filled with anticipation to see her reaction. 

Her sockets widened, enough to be seen through the bandages. Unable to contain himself, Charon’s tail full on wagged.

"This is..." She didn't have any words, taking another bite and polishing off the entire rest of the steak.

"Good , yes?"

"It's...I've never had anything like it."

"Have you never eaten cooked food?"

"...no."

"...Seriously? How?"

"I've kept to what I needed."

"It's healthier to eat it cooked."

"For some, yes. For me, it makes little difference."

"Because of your rather unusual biology."

"Correct."

"It counts even if it's a fraction of a percentage safer for you."

"Such a small statistic matters to you that much?"

"It's optimal and it's not too difficult. Plus your mood seems to have improved a little and that means something as your assistant and knight."

"You shouldn't base your own happiness on the mood of others." She lacked a little conviction in her words, clearly enjoying the hell out of her steaks.

"Mm, I disagree, Letting someone else's excitement rub off on you is free and  can be no harm."

"Relying on others like that is unpredictable, though."

"Perhaps. Two birds with one stone is never a bad thing however, and it spreads fast."

"Mm. I suppose." She got back to her steaks, only stopping to take a quick drink.

"It also genuinely just makes me feel good to see someone enjoy my cooking in general, if you would prefer I take the more selfish angle. Makes me the slightest more confident."

"You deserve that confidence...I have to admit that you were right about cooked meals."

"Hearing that from you will carry me the whole week... shall I continue to do this then? At least after shift?"

"I'd be fine with that change, though you know it's not required by your contract."

"I try to perform well enough that I'm considered when another perfect job for me comes up. Having jobs available at almost all times does wonders for your pockets and need to keep busy."

"A jack of all trades, then." She paused in her meal. "Do you consider yourself to be a master of none?"

"I consider myself a master of very specific things that I pray to god never come up during this job."

"May I ask you to elaborate?"

“Interaction with entities that lack existing category would be the best way to put it. I'm quite well equipped and experienced in that regard. You would not believe the things I've dealt with since I took up the family grind as a knight."

"Try me."

 "......Angels."

"The mythical cryptids."

"They're certainly not, took the function out of one of my eyes. They left me leaking shreds like a bad roof in rain. My limbs had to be modified to accommodate that issue or my body would freeze itself."

She fell quiet for a few moments. "...while I have trouble believing anything to do with what people call magic, it's clear that what you experienced left an effect on you. I apologize for my rudeness."

"I've taken no offense, it's hard to believe really. If it would make it easier to stomach, think of it as... the worst timeline version of a horror crawling out of a well. It makes it less fantastical but that's certainly more in line with what you'd like to hear yes?"

"Horrors I can believe, so yes. We have scientific proof of those, laying right below our feet at that."

"Think of them as.... horrors who have gone very wayward by horror standards."

"How are they similar?"

"They change things around radically, they imitate the local people, and they're less than ideal to keep around a mass populace. A lot more prone to schemes though, hundred years of planning tier schemes which... sounds ridiculous I'm sure but these ones had it out for my family in particular."

"I can't begin to fathom a horror making plans."

"Imagine a horror that replaced a whole town with duplicates of itself all in on snuffing a few folks they have a grudge against.... but I suppose that's ruining the mood."

"You're fine. I've heard of worse." She hesitated. "Well, maybe not worse so much as equally terrible in different ways."

"Do you have a story?"

"None worth sharing."

"Perhaps another time then if you'd rather not. I'm glad you enjoy my cooking so much."

"Mm...it'll be hard to go back to my typical diet after this."

"I'll try to see that a member of the staff is equipped for this by the time my contract runs out... and I'd certainly be open to a new one if the offer and job are correct."

"I doubt I'd be able to trust another to prepare food for me. Should we part ways when your contract ends, I'd most likely return to my usual." She polished off the last steak, leaving her plate clean. "You are an unlikely exception, Judgment."

The dog reached for her hand and tapped on it. "Should we part ways yes? You never know how much longer handling the basement floors may take."

She didn't pull away. "They are fairly vast. It's a large facility."

The dog made an attempt to hold her hand, feeling a bit brave.  "If this job goes well I may... consider a extension should it be offered. Of course that's your call."

She didn't react at first, slowly lacing her claws in between his fingers. "If your performance continues to exceed my expectations, I think that could be arranged."

 "I would greatly consider it." He wasn't able to keep his tail from wagging again, the clanking of its porcelain plates even more audible than before.

"I can hear your tail, you know."

"Ah.... pardon me."

"I don't think you were expecting the gesture returned, were you?"

“It was a coin flip as far as I'm concerned, I'm just satisfied with landing heads."

"Enjoy it while you can. My touch sensitivity will only hold out so long."

"Thank you, Boss."

"For?"

"For entertaining anything I've thrown out today and... for being willing to try out my cooking. I know it's quite a new concept for you. I wanted to make that good."

"You succeeded. Perhaps I should be more open to trying your ideas, whatever they may be."

"I'll try to drop the more tame ones first, you don't want to give me that much power."

"Would I have reason to worry?"

"We'll see. I'll never push you too hard I think though, I couldn't do that to my employer who signs my check."

"Don't think of it as part of the job. Think of it as...a personal favor."

"Oh, off the record?"

"Are you comfortable with that?"

"Mm, so long as you don't mind."

"I wouldn't mind taking some time with you away from work." She gave his hand the slightest squeeze, just enough to be felt and nothing more.

He returned the squeeze, grateful she couldn’t see the tinge of blush on his face. "Consider it granted."

[SHIVERS]

3:00 AM - 2020
Shivers + Rin, Patchwork Kernel, Punch Clock Animal
CW: implied sexual/physical abuse (nothing explicit), violence
Pepper tries the vending machine.

---

---

---

The coins clinked one-by-one down into the machine.
A selection was made, a thunk heard, but the can of coffee did not appear in the hole at the bottom of the vending machine.

Pepper stared at the vending machine, half asleep.
The neon sign hummed just outside. Cold night air seeped in through a gap at the bottom of the glass door.
With a long sigh, they headed back down the hall, intent on getting more coins from their hotel room.

They practically flopped against the push bar for the stairwell, beginning to make their way up the steps.

A horned karacel walked down the very same stairwell, dissociating and barely noticing her surroundings.

Pepper looked up as they rounded one set of steps, approaching the next, only to see the other figure in the stairwell come into view.
Their mind overloaded instantaneously.
Their body froze to the spot.
Only their eyes moved, going wide with pure shock as they now stared motionless up at the figure.

She bumped into their shoulder on accident, recoiling at the touch. "Shit, sorry-"

They pulled away fast and hard, slamming with a loud thud into the concrete wall and skirting sideways around her, their elbow bumping painfully into the guardrail as they kept persistent eye contact.
Adrenaline flooded.

She turned, startled. "Hey, are you-"
Chelsea blinked, taking in the pockitt's appearance and letting the memories flood back.
"Holy shit."

They half-heartedly scrambled at the upward stairs behind them, their brain torn on what to do.
Their foot misses the second step, collapsing them on the steps as they stare up at Chelsea.
The pockitt's handpaws were splayed, fingers open, against the concrete.
Their body looked primed to bolt, noticeable fight-or-flight tremors appearing.

Chelsea blinked, equally unsure on what her next move should be.
"You're, uh… Bazil's… frrrriend?"



They spoke up, nearly sputtering over their own words.
"You're... here 
...for me?
To get me?

Who's with you?
Who'swithyou?

Didtheyfindme-? "

"No, shit, no, we're here on work but- we're not here for you.
Didn't even know you were here, no one knows."

They grabbed the handrail, clearly trying to calm themself.
"Are you going to tell them?"

"I- we don't tell them anything we can help telling."

"...Is this Chelsea, then?"
They got to their feet, still looking shaky, and winced, a visible bruise already forming on their elbow.

 "Yeah… sorry to disappoint."

"I'm not-
...Look, I barely even remember what happened back... then.
I don't want to.
I didn't even want to come to Taverne, we're on a job.

...Who are you with? You didn't answer before.
Are any of them looking for me?
None of them know I'm here at all?
Are you sure? "



"It's just me and some cult thugs- they're not even in the same building as us.
We're just on the way to Precipice...got business there.
As far as I know, you're not even on anybody's radar.

I mean, Spit's here too, but she's...away. Busy."

 Their face went white.
"Spit?!
Spit's... here? "
They put a shaky paw to their face, staring through Chelsea.
“She'd...
If she sees me...
I can't... be here.
My friends are here.
She'd kill them.
She'd take me back."
Pepper started breathing heavier, approaching the point of hyperventilating.

"She's not even going to come in here, she's here to see a craftsman ‘friend’ of hers."
Her grimace intensified.
"The only people getting hurt after this is us.
Your friends aren't her business today."

They raised their voice. "You really think it's a good idea to risk that?!"
"If she comes here, then--"
They took a breath, running both their hands down their face.
"I'm sorry, I-I don't-" They bit their lip. 
"I can't do it again.
I don't have more of that in me."

Pepper's voice began to waver, just a little.
"...I'm barely here as it is." 

They shook their head.
"I don't know how much of me even made it out.
I don't know what's left anymore."





Chelsea looked away for a few moments, not sure what to say.
"...I know Spit better than you.
Sorry to be blunt about it, but...if you're going to trust anyone on this-
and I get it if you don't, considering everything-
it'd probably be a good bet to trust me.
Us."



They sat back down on the stairs, controlling their breathing.

"...Y'know, I...
I'm pretty sure I looked for you all, on the way out.
Even with-" They sighed.

"...I wanted us all to get out together.
I didn't want to go by myself."

She hesitated before sitting down next to them.
"...you should probably talk more to Bazil about this.
Not that I don't want to hear it, just… he was there for you more."

They watched the floor.
"I don't see why he'd want to.
Why you would.
You don't have to be here."

"Pepper, you are literally the only person I've seen him give a shit about."

They looked genuinely confused.
"Yeah, I doubt that.

I remember he was pissed a lot, but he's-
...He did everything for me.
I would've never talked with another actual person down there - cultists don't count - if he hadn't come to see me.
He cares about people.
...And he cares about you, at the very least.
Called Bucket his friend, too, even though he teased about them a lot."

She raised her eyebrows at the idea of Bazil caring for her.

They caught her look.
"...Oh come on, really?" 

"He was always doing the shitty day-to-day stuff so you wouldn't have to, he'd complain about cultists being shitty to you, tried to help you get time with Bucket, too, I think.
He definitely cares.
You two share a body. How'd you not notice?"

"He never does that stuff by choice..." She looked a bit guilty.
"He always gets, I don't know, pulled out to do it…
I don't want to ruin the way you look at him, bad mouth him, you know."

"He still does it, though, doesn't he?"

"Guess so."

"Well, there you go." 





"...I didn't find Bucket, by the way.
Name wasn't much to go on.
...I tried, though."

She hung her head, nodding.
"Yeah, I… figured. Not your fault."

 "I'd keep looking, but...
Don't wanna stay in Taverne longer than I have to.
Never know when you're gonna run into cultists here." They joked.

She couldn't help but smirk a bit. "Heh."
Her smirk fell as she thought more to herself.
"If it helps at all, I have seen them- Bucket, I mean, a few times since then… not for a while, though.
A long while.
I don't want to go on about my shit, though-
I'm just glad to see you're away from this whole mess."

 "I mean, am I?
Queen Emphysema's next door.
Besides," 

They gave her a tired smile. 
"You can talk to me.
...Pretty sure I was the only person Bazil could talk to."

"As himself, yeah…
Bucket too, sometimes, but he never really liked them much."
She smiled, bittersweet.
"They always wanted to be friends with him, though.
Even then."

They shrugged.
"He called them a friend."

"You were also a kid, and the choice words he has for Bucket aren't exactly good for children."

"Or he was just more honest with me than he thought he could be with other people.
I mean, you know what he's like.

...At least what I think he's like.
Doesn't exactly wear his heart on his sleeve, but he's not that hard to read if you know 'im.
Never understood why you two didn't talk more.

Hopefully you're both better at that.
It's been years."



"Better than we used to be, I guess… still don't get along too well, but I'd be lying if I said we aren't willing to put aside differences to fight common evils."

"Spit?"

"Yeah. Spit."

"...You gonna kill her?"

"I don't know if we can."

"Are you still gonna try?"

"He still wants to."

"...Why aren't you able to just leave?
I don't... doubt that you can't, I just...
I never understood it back then.
I still don't.
What's she got on you?"

"If we left, she'd hunt us down, to the end of the earth."
She smiled, no joy in it this time.
"We're her favorite trophy.
If we leave, she'll find us again, and destroy anything in her path to do it."

"Then you're gonna kill her."

"Tried.
Tried too many times."

"Doesn't mean it's not gonna happen."

"Once you try and fail at something enough, you realize it's going to have the same result…
or worse."

Their tone became a little more stern now.
"What's your alternative, then?"

"Keep living like this until we die, I guess."

"That's not an option."

"It's worked for seven decades.
Probably got at least three more in us."

Pepper was incredibly concerned.
"It's not... 'working.' 
I was in a cage down there, which was-
...but I still had it better than you.
I know I did.
You can't tell me it's 'working.'
I shouldn't have to tell you that you don't deserve to be there."

"We got convinced that we deserve better by Bucket ages ago… but all it does is make it harder.
It was easier, back when we thought it was what we should be getting."

They only looked more worried.



"...I could help..."

"How?"

"Help you kill her..."

"No.
I'm not involving others."

 "So, what?
I'm supposed to just let you two-"
They shook their head.
"No. No, I can't just sit around while you're both still stuck with her."

"You can't-"
She clenched and unclenched her fist, grumbling a bit.
"Hold on."

They ignored her, not realizing what was happening.
"You don't know what I can do.
Alright?
...We could take her."
For once, they didn't sound sure of themself in the slightest.



"Kid..."
The voice was familiar, a slight bit raspier than Chelsea's.

Pepper's eyes went wide, voice going quiet.

"Been a bit."

They looked away.
"...Sorry you had to uh... see me."

"What?
Why sorry?"

"I mean...
I was... a lot of trouble for you, back then.
I shouldn't've been your responsibility, I know it wasn't fair."

"Eh… I don't really know why I did it, to be honest.
But fairness never really crossed my mind."

"It's all I can think about right now."

"Well… don't, not when it comes to this shit.
Fair's not really a concept in cult business, and I'm just glad you're out of it for good."

"But you're still stuck there.
I can't just leave you like that."

"You don't want to get involved in this again.
You got out, keep it that way."

"Like I told Chelsea, you don't know what I can--"
"Stop.
I know you're strong, kid.
I trained you myself, and I'm sure you did a hell of a lot more on your own time since."

"Then let me help."

"This is something we have to do ourselves."

"I don't care.
If you think for one second I'm gonna just let you both-"
Pepper's vision blurred as unwanted tears began welling up.
"You think I can just leave you with her?
After f... finally finding you?
After years? 

You were the only friend I had there.
And you did everything for me.
I wouldn't have made it if it wasn't for you, but I was never able to do anything to help you.

I was just a kid back then.
I can't count how many times you saved me, while I was just a problem for you, so you can't-"

Tears broke free.

"You can't expect me to just be useless while you get hurt again!
You can't expect me to sit around and do nothing knowing what she's doing to you!"



"You're not useless.
You're out there living a better life, and you were never a problem for me, alright?
You're the only person who wasn't.
You have the opportunity to get the hell away from this, forever, and you better fucking take it.
I won't forgive you if you don't."
He gave them a stern look.

The pockitt was still doing their best to choke back tears, even as they streamed down their face.
"I j... just want you to be okay...
I just wanna help.
You're my fr…” They swallowed. “...friend..."

He didn't drop the serious expression even as he reached up to wipe their tears.
"Cmon, kid. You're a fighter, Pepper- but you shouldn't have to be.
You don't have to be now, not like you were.
Go get a life far away from this shit."

They almost pulled away at his touch, but allowed him to do so, sniffling.





"I've still been fighting.
...When I got out, after the foster homes and everything, I... that was all I was good at.

...I still do sometimes, but I found some people and we're...
I dunno.
It's nice.
I like it, even if I haven't been great lately.
...Barely feel like myself anymore.
Barely even know what that means anymore."

They wiped their face.

"Sorry.
Not meaning to ramble at you again.
Bad habit coming back.
...And I'm sorry I hugged you so much.
Took me way too long to realize you hated it.”

Pepper shook their head. “...Stupid."





"You were a kid and you didn't need to know why I have issues with that."

"...Do you wanna talk about it?"

"You probably heard all the rumors about it back then.
Just didn't feel like it was necessary to tell you myself."

"I don't remember most of what happened back then.
...I'm not real big on touch, either, by the way.
Well... anymore."

"No hugs at this reunion, then."
He smirked.

They smiled.
"So... sure you don't wanna talk about it?
I know you don't... talk about stuff much.
Probably to anybody, right?"

"Yeah, but… it's..." He struggled for words.

"I can handle it.
Least I can do is listen."

"I'll keep it simple, for your sake."
He raised his hands up.
"Spit keeps us as her own personal… fuck, I don't even know what to call it without it sounding awful.
Touch kind of got ruined for me after that."

Their gaze narrowed on him. 
"...Then you're gonna kill her."

"That's the plan."

"You're gonna need all the help you can get, y'know."

"Don't try to get yourself into this."
He raised a brow. "Don't."

"I'm not talking about me. ...Though, if she-

...If I find out you she's killed you, after you didn't bring me with you-"

They took a breath.
"Just make sure you're ready.
And like I said, you're gonna need help."

His expression softened. "
Alright. You got it, kid. I won't go alone."

"Chelsea, too.
You two depend on each other.
And I know you care about her."

"More that we're stuck together and I'm sick of having to yell."

Pepper looked at Bazil intently, speaking softly.
"Don't lie.

Not to me."

"...I'm still figuring out where I stand on it."

"You need to figure out how to get along already.
You're both the best backup you've got. Plus, if Spit doesn't know about you, then I'd say that's a hell of an advantage.
And you're gonna need everything.

That, and y'know... I feel like learning to be friends with somebody you're sharing a body with is kind of a no-brainer.
You can't tell me arguing with each other is helpful."

"I can't let some of our issues go, Pepper.
Not yet, not until I figure some of this shit out better.
But I can work with her."

"You could always, y'know, talk with her about it.
You've got plenty of time."

"Maybe. No promises."

They glared.

"I'll see about it some time, but I'm not promising anything."

"Promise me you'll try at least."

"I'll try."

"Good.
And if you don't, I'm kicking your ass."

"Look who learned to swear."

"Yeah, gee, I wonder where I picked that up."
They grinned.

"Who knows-"





A buzzing sound came from Pepper's pocket, and they pulled out their phone, glancing at the notification briefly.

They sighed.




"I better go.

Couple of things first, though...



...Is Holiday still there?"



"Handled it."

They cocked their head.
"Wait... what'd you do?"

"If I took care of him while you were there, he'd have been replaced with somebody worse.
Second you got out, I made sure he'd never hurt another kid again."

They got quiet. 
"...Oh.
Probably... for the best, honestly.
...Did you see his arm?
I uh... did that.
On the way out.
...Pretty sure."

"I wondered if that was you… impressive work, kid."

Pepper held up their hands to Bazil, showing off something they knew was there, but couldn't see.
"You see 'em?"

"...that's risky shit, you know."

The pockitt put their arms back down, looking over the back of their hands.
"I can't see them.
Never did it on purpose.
...I didn't even know I had them for... well, until pretty recently."

"Be careful with it, don't bite off more than you can chew."

They shrugged.
"Not like I know how to take 'em out.
I don't even know how I'm using 'em.
Made friends with a scrap user and they pointed 'em out."

"Yeah… one of those people you're travelling with, yeah?"

They nodded.

"You stick with them, then.
Get some tips.
Don't go fucking around with that without someone to keep you straight."

They couldn't help but snicker.
"Yeahhhh, I dunno how much I can get that from them.
Doubt they'd be much of a teacher."

Pepper gave a sad smile.
"I'd offer to introduce you, but I doubt you'd wanna meet new people, right?"

"You got that right.
Figure you're in good hands, though.
You look it."

"Ehh," they shrugged.
"I guess.
I kinda take care of them most of the time."

"Then they're in good hands too."
He gave them a pat on the back, rising to his feet.
"Better get going before they get worried."

They stood up as well, grinning back at him as they stretched.
"Damn right, they are.
...But yeah, they're a good bunch."




Footsteps were heard coming down the stairwell.

"Speaking of..."

"Pepper? You okay?"
A gesabott stepped around the corner, coming into view of the pair.
"Oh."
They noticed Bazil.

Pepper nodded towards them. "Old friend. Was catching up."

Juno suddenly looked concerned, and stepped down towards Pepper.
"Your arm... Are you sure you're okay?
You weren't-"

"Oh, absolutely.
Was definitely fighting someone in the stairwell of our hotel at 3 AM.
And thank god the cavalry showed up just in time."

Juno glared at them.

Pepper rolled their eyes with a smile.
"I tripped, bud.
Head back, I'll be up in a sec."

Juno looked at the stranger in the stairwell. "Oh, my name's--"

"He's busy, reaaally gotta get going. I was just saying bye."

"Oh, are you sure-?
Okay. Sorry."
They waved at Bazil as they started back up the stairs. "
Nice to... meet-
Er.
Nice to... see..."

"Junooooo, quit worrying.
Go on."

"Yeah. I'm ...going."
Juno's footsteps faded out.





Pepper snickered.
"Sorry. They're nice."

"Yeah. Seems like it."





He started walking down the stairs, almost reluctantly.
"You take care of yourself, Pepper."

"Oh, uh..."
They pulled out a receipt from their pocket, and a pen.

The pockitt put it against the wall and wrote something down before folding it in half and handing it to Bazil.



"My phone number.
They still have phone booths around here, right?
Call me sometime."

He pocketed it, giving them a nod.

"I'll try.
Can't promise I'll be able to often."

"Seeing as we haven't seen each other in what, like... ten years?
I can wait."

"Good luck out there, kid."

They shrugged.
"Don't need luck.

But thanks anyways.

...Call me if you need me, for anything.
Don't wanna lose touch with my friend again."

They started back up the stairs, but stopped.



"Oh and, Bazil..."

"Yeah?"

"Fuck her up."



 

---

Pepper made their way out of the hotel bar with a sigh, looking distinctly annoyed.
They stepped out into the hallway, heading down the hall.

The smell of smoke hit them a few steps in, almost overpowering.

They'd been inhaling, and choked.
The pockitt pulled back, covering their face.

Even covering their face wasn't enough to block out the smell that came next, the distinct and unmistakable stench of rotting meat.

Their cough returned, and they tried holding their breath, eyes wide in shock.

...A fire? What the hell is burning?

Pepper turned tail, intending to head through to a different stairwell to get back to the hotel room and warn the others.





Footsteps started coming down the hall behind them, the scent completely overpowering now. 

"Where do you think you're going?"

They coughed and sputtered as they turned around, nearly falling to the floor.
Adrenaline was the only thing keeping them conscious at the moment.

The god that loomed over them was instantly recognizable, a horrible grin spread across her face.
"Don't you know it's rude to run away from authority figures?
What are they teaching kids in school these days!"

Pepper backed away a pace, barely staying standing. 
They tried to speak, but only gasps and more coughing came out.



"Something got your tongue?"
She took another step forward, the sound of glass crunching with every motion.
"Something get under your skin?"

Pepper leaned on the wall.
"I was j-" They coughed again.
"...Just... getting back to my... room."

"Well relaaaax, your room's not going anywhere!
I was just looking to meet some locals and pass time while waiting for my sweetheart to get back from her own room-"



She paused, squinting.



"But you're not a local, are you?"




They shook their head.
"F... From Idyth."
Pepper pulled their shirt up over their snout, helping block out the smoke just slightly.
"I really... need to get back.
Really uh... sorry to waste your time."

"You don't look like you're from Idyth."
She hoisted Pepper up by the collar, impossibly fast.
"No, you look like a little runt I knew from Solitude, all grown up!"

They grunted, squirming in her grip.
Their eyes locked, the pockitt looking beyond terrified.

"I'm n-"
Their coughing came back, worse this time while up so close to her.
"N... Never been-
It's my... f... first time in Tav- ...Taverne!"

"Those little freckles are a dead giveaway!
To see you all the way out here, what a great surprise… knew there'd be somethin' in here, just had this feeling."



Their voice was almost pleading at this point, interspersed with heavy coughing as the pockitt struggled to stay conscious.
"I've never met... you before!
P... Promise!"

She shook them roughly, enough to choke them with their shirt collar a bit.
"Cmon, what was your name… Pep, Peppy, no, Pepper!"
She let out a barking laugh, her voice hoarse and raspy.
"Lil' Pepper, that's you!"

They desperately attempted to pull away, consciousness nearly fading for a moment.
"I'm n... not... Pepper..."

"You're a spitting image, then!
Why, I'd say you're almost a perfect copy!"



A mist surrounded them for just a moment as a snake corvice fell out of Spit's grasp, at least a foot taller than the pockitt had been before. 
They collapsed to their claws and knees on the floor, wheezing, attempting to get back up and back away.

"Look at that."
She gave the snake corvice a kick, sending them across the hall.
"Got myself a little mimic after all."

They landed with a thud on the floor, the wind gone out of them as they gripped the wall, just barely managing to get back to their feet.
Blink's neck was bruised, breath raspy.
They wanted to run, but couldn't seem to catch their breath yet.

"Shame you aren't the real deal.
I was looking forward to that reunion..."

They bolted down the hall as best they were able to, though their unwieldy gait wasn't getting them far.

The corvice neared the stairwell door about twenty feet ahead of Spit, reaching for it.







The snake managed another few steps, then collapsed face down on the floor, their glasses tumbling and cracking against the wall.

Spit stretched for just a moment, crackling and huffing smoke.
"Guess we're gonna play a little, then!"
She lunged down the hallway, unable to keep herself from giggling.

The stairwell door burst open, Pepper in full view for just a moment as they grabbed Blink's arms and pulled as hard as they could, just barely getting the corvice inside the stairwell.

In that instant, their green eyes met Spit's.
Fear and resolve were both present in their gaze.

The door was pulled shut moments later.

She slammed against the door, her smoke creeping underneath.

A loud bang was heard from the other side, the metal bar going limp as the mechanism was busted.





Pepper pulled Blink up to their feet, panting.

They spoke firmly through the door.

"You'll get yours. But not from me."

Pepper started shouldering Blink up the stairs.





"And you'll be dead meat by then, kid!
Just as you always should have been!"

[skinstealer]

Magazines - 2020
Ringor Mortis, ????
CW: sexuality, homophobia, verbal abuse, physical abuse discussion
Wilson's collection is discovered.

---

“Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

Wilson shrinks into his chair even more than he already has, watching his fiance-

Soon to be ex, probably

-pace around in front of him, whapping one of his magazines uncomfortably hard against her claws. 

“You are absolutely- I just cannot believe you. You hid this from me, right under my nose. How many more are there, Wilson?”

He doesn’t respond, doing his best to keep his eyes from leaking any more tears than they already have as she whacks the magazine against the table. 

“How many more.”

“...About fifteen or so, kept under the creaky floorboard.”

“...Unbelievable.”

“They’re not even...pornographic-”

“They’re practically nude, and- they’re nothing like me, Wilson! These magazines advertise themselves as having men, with emphasis on that!”

“They’re i-inclusive of all kinds of models, I’m sure there’s someone in there like you-”

“You’re sure.”

Oh, now I’ve gone and fucking done it.

If looks could kill, he would be dead five times over by now, at least. 

“I mean-”

“You’re sure there’s someone in there that looks like me, because you definitely seek out models that look like your fucking fiance, the woman you’re SUPPOSED to be MARRYING-”

“Please, the neighbors are going to hear you-”

“Oh, I bet they are! And they’re going to know all about your little secret by the time I’m through with you, unless you give me a damn good explanation as to why you’ve done something like this.”

She stares directly at him and it takes every fiber of his being to keep the tears from spilling out from all three of his eyes and staining everything. She wants him to answer but he can’t, anything but that, please, god, anything but this.

“Well, Will? Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“...I think I like men, Danielle.”

She doesn’t tear her eyes away from him, saying nothing for a few moments and waiting for him to say more. He takes a deep breath and tries to keep his voice steady, the shakiness sneaking in just a little.

“I...I don’t...I don’t know when it started, or how, I just, saw one of these magazines in the store one day, and I don’t even know why I picked it up, but I did, and I couldn’t look away, and-”

“Is it only men, Will?”

I don’t want to answer that.

“Will.”

“...yes. I’m sorry.”

“And you just...kept buying these. You just kept buying these, and lying to me, and kept planning to marry me?”

“I thought...I thought it might go away, or that it would be okay-”

“What part of this is okay?!”

“...or that you might do this, if you found out.”

She freezes, her face frozen in rage.

“What did you just say to me?”

“...nothing.”

“Will. What did you just say?”

A larger tear drips off of his face, finally escaping.

“I...I was scared, that you would yell at me, like this…I didn’t...I didn’t want you to yell, or call me names, or- or-”

“Or what?”

Don’t say it.

He shakes his head.

“You’re seriously holding that against me, Will? It was one time!”

Wilson can’t hold it back now, taking a gasping breath before going off, tears streaming off his cheeks, through his shirt, and off his tail and hair. 

“You CHOKED me, Danielle! That’s not...th-that’s not a one time thing! And...and I can’t just get over that! You choked me and c-called me a fucking crybaby for not wanting to sleep next to you for a f-f-fucking week, and now I...I don’t know! I don’t know!“

Now no one’s saying anything, and he reaches out to take the magazine out of her hand, nearly ripping it from her grip. The model on the cover is smiling up at him, and he recognizes him as one of his favorites- someone who always looked calm and relaxed. God, he wished that could be him, literally ever. 

“...I wish I had never met you.” 

Her words are bitter and biting, cutting into him like knives.

“...yeah. That’d...p-probably have been for the best.”

She walks past him on her way to their bedroom, bumping into him with her spiked shoulder and grazing his cheek. She had worked so hard on avoiding that over the years they spent together, but now, it was nothing to her.

“Take your magazines and get out. There’s that cheap motel on East Street, and you’ve got plenty in savings to live there until you can apply for an apartment. I’ll keep your stuff until then, but the magazines have to go. I can’t fucking stand looking at them.”

“...okay.”

He gets out of his chair slowly, heading for the door- only to hesitate.

“...hey, Danielle?”

No response from her at all.

“...Fuck off and die, please.”

[skinstealer]

Truce - 2021
Ringor Mortis + B. Comorant, Punch Clock Animal/General Morbit
CW: Mentions of child abuse, physical abuse, extremely vague + brief implications of sexual abuse, violence
Bucket nurses Bazil back to health.

---

“I don't need you to take care of me." Bazil growled at the dog in front of him, half of his body covered in blood-soaked bandage wraps and bruises. "Chelsea may like it when you play nurse for her, but I don't need to be fussed over."

"You're currently injured beyond the threshold I can safely heal you. You absolutely do need help."

"Just wait until Chelsea's back, or Derry, or god knows whoever else. You like Harvey, right? Wait for her." He avoided making eye contact, looking less angry and more ashamed than anything. "You don't need to look at me like this."

"I want you to suffer the least amount possible. Please let me help you."

"And what'd that entail? Carrying me around everywhere? Feeding me? I'd just feel like...I don't know, just...fuck."

"We can compromise something here. I don't understand why this has to be so difficult though."

"Maybe I don't want you looking at me after Spit kicked my shit in, alright?!" Bazil bared his teeth a little, stopping as soon as he realized what he was doing. "...sorry. Said I wouldn't do that anymore on my last visit."

"I promise you I don't think of you any less. My odds in your situation would not be better."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"What do you mean?"

"Saying you wouldn't fare better than me against Spit." He scoffed, looking up at them now. "You don't have to stick around in a weak body like this."

"I don't think Spit would let me stay this strong."

"Definitely not, but you've still got all your...magic...shit. Mine doesn't do shit against her. You...wouldn't know what it's like to be completely helpless against her. " His breath caught a little, which he did his best to cover up as a growl. "Fuck."

"If I had any chance against her I would be more direct."

"I'm not saying you have any chance of killing her- you don't. No one does. But...I don't know, alright?" He tried to stand up and fell right back down into the chair, wincing.

"Please take it slow right now..."

"...fine. Fine. Just...don't baby me, alright? If you're going to have to nurse me back to health or whatever, do it with some dignity."

"I'll treat you as I would anyone on the battlefield."

"...Dignity, not get all stuffy about it. Sheesh." He rolled his eyes. "Where are you starting first, anyway?"

"Depends, where does it hurt most?"

"I feel like I got hit by one of Spit's trucks a couple times over, everywhere."

"I will start with a light healing then, just to make the pain more manageable. Where would it be okay to place my hands?"

"Shoulders. Same as always."

They nodded and did so. A light glow emitted from the dog's palms as the pain seemed to ease up a noticeable amount. "Don't have enough in me to fix all of it right now but... this should be good enough to matter I hope."

Flashes of violence shot through the dog's mind, pierced by Bazil's screams. The karacel gritted his teeth slightly at first, exhaling as the pain let up bit by bit. "...it'll do...you're getting better at doing it in a way that doesn't freak me the fuck out, at least."

"Did it startle you before?"

"You know how I feel about touch. Not exactly used to it from anybody but the grand high bitch herself."

"I'm sorry your experiences have been... terrible to put it bluntly."

"Yeah, well...yeah." He leaned back a bit, not moving away from their hands yet. "You're not terrible at it, though. Not like you're rough or anything, and you know not to make any sudden movements or shit like that by now."

"I try to be. Even if you don't want to be around me more than you have to, I hope your experiences feel at the very least safe."

"Don't put it like that, you make me sound like an asshole."

"Didn't mean to frame it like that but... I imagine there's a few things you'd rather."

"...you're not as bad as I used to think you were."

Their ears perked up. "Something change your mind?"

"I'm tired of holding a grudge, and you're actually showing some kind of an effort to understand our whole deal instead of acting like Chelsea's the only important thing to you. I don't like how close you are to Derry and I don't understand that, and I still think the fact that you're pursuing a relationship in general is fucking stupid and dangerous, but you're trying."

"I'll... take that I suppose. How are you feeling?"

"Better...your hands are still on my shoulders, though." He raised a brow. "Pretty sure you said you're out of juice."

The dog pulled their hands away. "Sorry... this is as much as I can do for now."

"It...actually helped." There was almost the hint of a smile on his face. "Almost makes me feel like I didn't get the shit beat out of me. Physically, anyway."

"Good... I'll do a second session once I've built up the strength for it. If you don't mind of course."

"Yeah, yeah...I know how magic goes. I run out of steam early on fighting Spit every time...never even last a full round."

"My healing is a little different, it runs on my own physical state. I'm transferring healthy material to replace the damaged stuff."

"...You're using your own body to heal me?"

"Mm."

“I knew you took the pain, but I didn't know you...used your own health like that." He exhaled. "Now I feel worse for giving you shit about it. Why the hell'd you go and do something like that for me?"

"I'm generally pretty healthy so it's all recovered with some rest. That said I normally only tend to small wounds so this is admittedly a little more work."

"A little. Don't bullshit me."

"I'm not extending past my limits."

"But you're getting close to them, aren't you? Be straight with me."

"Nothing irreversible."

Bazil narrowed his eyes. "Bucket."

"It'll heal."

"Then so will I. On my own."

“I mean... you really would benefit from another day of treatment."

"And you'd benefit from not wasting your own strength on me!"

"I want to heal you."

"Why? Why is that so important to you, because it's Chelsea's body too?" A twinge of anger slipped into his voice before he could stop it.

"Because I don't want to see anyone suffer like this under Spit. Because it's all I can do to defy Spit."

"Then it's not about me, it's about just getting back at her, and while I get that, and I can kind of get behind that, I don't want to just be something to take pity on because I get the shit kicked out of me."

"I don't want to see you in pain either. I consider you one of the very few allies I have in here."

"Is that because of me, or is it just because of proximity, though?"

"Both."

He scoffed a bit, glancing away. "Least you're honest. I would have called bullshit if you just said the former."

"It's the only answer you'll accept."

"I said I was tired of holding a grudge and I meant it, and I appreciate how much effort you're putting into understanding this mess with us- but it's still hard to believe that you'd actively choose to hang out with me if given the option. And if you would, for some godforsaken reason, I don't know if I can trust that those reasons are rational, or that you're assuming I'm some kind of person that I'm not."

"I'd just like to be at the very least friends with you."

"I want to know your reasons why first. Why me specifically."

"Because I sense that you are... perhaps not a soft person, but certainly not as rough as you make yourself out to be. You also were no slouch against Matthias."

"...tch." Bazil tilted his head back over the slightest bit, looking a little less aggravated. "Maybe I'm not as opposed to being friends as I make myself out to be either."

The dog's ears perked up. "Are you implying you're thinking of it?"

"Yeah, well...your reasons hit a little closer to home than I was expecting, and you're kind of the inverse. You're reckless when it comes to a lot of things, but I can respect that to a degree, and you know where to hit where it hurts when the time comes for it. You're...strong. But I don't want you using up that strength on me the way you're doing it if you're just going to hit your limit! Like, god, Bucket, come on! Have some respect for yourself!"

"I'm gauging how much I need. I can share some of my strength with you and survive."

"It's not about surviving! I don't want you to just survive! You deserve better than that-" He stopped himself, looking a bit embarrassed. "...well, you do. You shouldn't push yourself to the brink just because you can."

"You're worried about my health like this?"

"...Yeah."

"... I appreciate that. I still would like to treat you but if you are so worried, I'll be more cautious."

"You better." He stretched a little, wincing. "...If you're legitimately feeling better tomorrow, like, actually better, I'll let you do a bit more."

"I assure you I am accounting for my own health and I will be a tad more careful if it'll make you feel more confident in it."

"Thank you. I'm not used to worrying about people, don't make me have to do it more than I have to."

"I'll try not to be a daredevil."

"Now that we've established you aren't going to do anything stupid and that we're going to attempt to be friends, then...what do you…do with your friends, I guess."

"What do you mean by that?"

"What do you personally end up doing with people you call your friends? I don't have a hell of a lot of frames of reference here for myself."

"It really depends I suppose. It can really go wherever you want it to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's all within your boundaries."

"I don't really know my boundaries, aside from...well, I guess I know what I really don't like, but I don't know what I do."

"You don't have anything you like to do?"

"I get time to myself inside or I get time with Spit. Time alone, I guess I spend training...but I'm not in any state to do that now."

"What would be the next best thing that's possible?"

"...do you know how to use other magic techniques other than healing?"

"I'm a very capable illusionist."

"I mean with other scrap types, not just the uh...one you're good with. Would you be able to show me any tricks?"

"Perhaps? Do you have something in mind?"

"I can't spar with you when I'm trapped on bedrest, but...I can still move my hands a little bit, and I've got our scraps with the rest of our stuff by the door."

"Mm... I can do that much. What would you like to practice then?"

"All I can really do is shock people and send shockwaves through things, and while that's...I mean, it gets the job done, I want to be able to do more. I feel like shock scraps should be able to do more than that, but I don't...exactly have the kind of creative head for this kind of thing."

"I can play with the mind to the point of convincing people they're dead should I wish."

"Yeah, but can mine do something like that?"

"No... not in the same way I imagine."

“Not exactly, but...can I get something creative like that, do you think? Like, how far can I push shock?"

"There's ways to make some utility out of it, I can certainly tutor you there."

"Then I want to do that."

"Mm.. what brings this up out of curiosity?"

"You asked me what the next best thing was. I want to get better at magic, and you're the best teacher I can get, alright?"

"Then I can do that... I'm curious though, do you think of me that highly as a sorcerer?"

"I've seen what you can do to people. Maybe I want to be able to do that, or at the very least get on that level. So...I want you to teach me. We can start our friendship or whatever there."

 "I accept this."

"Then where do we start? How do I take my shock magic from basic attacks to actually doing some weird shit to people?"

"When you really look at the properties of such closely I suppose. It's a conductive energy source, and that's important to consider."

He nodded, listening closely. "I don't know a whole lot about the science end of things, but I can follow that much."

"If you know what burns, conducts, and shatters on impact, you can greatly extend the utility. It's also a lot of being aware of surroundings."

“Ugh...guess I better hit some books when I'm able, or at the very least do some experimenting, then. I know a lot of basics at this point, but there's still some times where I go to shock something and nothing happens."

"Rubber perhaps?"

"Maybe, yeah...I mean, I learned that one quick. Fucking annoying."

"Oh? When did that come up?"

"Some guy we were tasked to chase down must have been wearing some. Couldn't stun him for shit."

"Wonder what circumstances result in someone wearing a rubber suit..."

"Some kind of work gear, I guess...more like an overalls deal."

"Does make sense then... do you have any abilities besides shocking?"

"I can use Spit's flesh manipulation, but I refuse to unless I absolutely have to. Shit's nasty. I think I can do more with the shock scraps, I just...don't know how. Like, I wonder if I can do shock, the emotion, or something, or if that's a whole different type..."

"Shock, the emotion?"

"Yeah, like...if I could make you feel shock."

"Jolting someone would certainly shift some moods."

"...good point, I guess electrifying them kind of induces it already. Shit. I thought I was being clever."

"I do not know if any types can function in a manner that applies a element of double meaning like so."

"Yours are so flexible, though...and your scrap form, that can do so much. I haven't even begun to figure out mine yet, even Chelsea's figured out hers."

"I don't think I've ever seen yours."

“That's because I don't...have one. I can't seem to make it work."

"I must ponder if it'd lean more cat or pockitt..."

"It better lean the latter, but I better not be short, either! I'm gonna be pissed if I'm short." Bazil huffed, crossing an arm across his chest. "...you wouldn't know any tricks for that either, would you? I mean, if the whole shock scrap thing looks like we're gonna hit a big fucking rubber wall."

"Finding your scrap form? It's something that requires either emotional intensity or training beyond the normal routine to be honest."

"Emotional intensity....I'm emotionally intense all the time! If it was about emotional intensity, I'd have found it a million times over by now! The whole reason why I get triggered out is because of being emotionally intense!"

"More than usual, a pinch state where the candle feels on its last sparks."

"I don't know if it's possible then, I've been pushed to the fucking brink of death before and nothing's happened."

"To be quite honest it works differently for everyone so... your condition may be something drastically different."

"Give me examples. Specifics. What works for people?"

"Training, self discovery, intensive drive toward ambitions, sometimes simply luck...."

"No, like, scenarios. Examples of people you know, stories, or just...make shit up that sounds right."

"I had a mentor who worked me until I coughed blood. That's my story."

"...sorry." He looked embarrassed for asking, not sure what to say in response to that.

"Nothing to apologize over. I am honestly surprised that you haven't unlocked your scrap form by now though."

"Maybe it's just...emotions I don't usually experience, or some shit." His face fell at that, looking more despondent than anything. "Which means I'm kind of shit out of luck- just my luck if that's the case. Figures that I'd get some kind of scrap form that first unlocks when I'm like...happy, or something."

"It doesn't need to be joy necessarily but.. there's a likelihood. The alternative could be the condition you're in when you front. A body that's in rough shape may make it straining to enter."

His eyes were filled with determination all of a sudden at that. "So if I'm fixed up better, I have better chances?"

"Possibly? You're usually fronting while the body has just endured something extremely painful so... maybe. Why?"

"...I'll stop fighting you on the rest of the treatment stuff, then. Even...the bath stuff you usually have to do with Chelsea when she gets here, if it means I get a chance at unlocking this. I just...I really want to know what it is. I know I could be disappointed, and it could be horrible, and it could suck just as much as my body inside, but I want to know. I want to be stronger."

Bucket took his words in, nodding slowly. "I will do my best to help you experience entering a scrap form."

"Let's do this, then. I'm grimy as hell and the longer we wait on the bath the more likely I am to freak out and back out last second. Just don't think of me as Chelsea and don't try anything weird."

"I will try my best, but pardon me if I blush at any point."

"Pardon me if I end up biting your hand, then." He raised a brow. "Same body or not, there's nothing about me worth blushing over. Just remember that."

"I try to focus on your unique expressions and voice as best I can to separate you two mentally if it's worth anything."

"Good." He paused for a second, grimacing. "...You're gonna have to carry me, aren't you."

"Likely, yes."

He closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them, the determination just as present as before. "Alright. For the scrap form."
 

---

Bazil sat grumpily in the tub, crossing his arm over his chest and looking completely out of place amongst the bubbles.

"Is the water alright?" Bucket's eyes were turned away, blatantly trying to minimalize how much they looked at him.

"It's fine. All we get at Spit's is cold, and dirty too, so...improvement." A rogue bubble floated onto his nose and he sneezed, sounding uncharacteristically like a kitten. "Fuck."

"....Was that you?"

"No." He lied.

"Hmm..."

"I don't sneeze like that."

"There's only two people in the room and it certainly wasn't me."

"Probably a ghost or something. This place is definitely haunted."

"By a sneezing cat."

"...yes."

"Someone get this ghost tissues."

He smirked, unable to help himself. "Poor bastard's got a cold."

"May God have mercy on their sick little soul."

"Hey, my soul isn't lit-" He realized his mistake, shutting up immediately.

A grin grew across the dog's face.

"Shut up."

"I did not say anything."

"You were thinking smarmy thoughts loud enough for the whole mansion to hear."

"Perhaps."

"It was a fluke. Everybody does shit like that sometimes." He huffed, but couldn't shake off the tiniest bit of a smile from earlier.

"I won't tell on you... but I will remember this for a good while."

"Ugh. Don't you dare hold this against me."

"I won't. For now."

"Your secret bastard side emerges." He splashed a little water up at them, not enough to do much more than a little spritz.

They shook it off, still smiling. "Your own secret to carry with you."

 "Guess we've both got something on each other, huh?" He settled back down, letting them get back to cleaning him up with as little resistance as he could possibly muster.

They tried to make things quick to be easy on him. "Guess so.... you can ask me questions about anything since we are exchanging hidden knowledge."

"Anything, huh..." He thought to himself, trying to figure something out. "Tell me about the thing with your mentor. About getting your scrap form."

"Originally my mother was my mentor getting into knighthood but... we had a few too many clashes so I finished my training with her sister. She was... easier to work with in some was but harsher in others. Still I owe a lot of my knowledge of the job to her, as well as my own fiendish nature. Both were pivotal to understand for me to gain my form."

"Guessing the harsh part lead to the whole coughing blood thing."

"I was not allowed to take my exam to become my knight nor given shelter until I had my scrap form down once we got to that part of training."

"So what, you were just kicked out into the wild?"

"Yes."

"Can't say that I like your aunt much, gotta say."

"She can be.... hard, yes. But in the end I gained amazing control over my abilities as a sensitive and a fiend."

"Yeah, but...how old were you, even?"

"Old enough to pick up a sword."

"Where we come from that doesn't mean shit."

"15. We trained for five years."

"Young enough for me to call bullshit on her. I don't like adults who fuck over kids, especially not when they're supposed to be family."

"Mm... honestly as hard as my mother could be, it was nothing by comparison."

He fell quiet, thinking it over. "I don't...remember our own parents much. Feels weird even calling them "our", like I have some kind of right to them. But I don't think they were too good either, or we wouldn't have ended up in this mess with Spit, right?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. They're dead as shit by now."

"I forget how old you all are..."

"What, it freak you out at all?"

"Not really. I've got quite a bit more that should scare you off."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm... my kind can shift into giant monsters, spin webs, breathe elements, drink the blood of others to steal their form, and glare directly at one's soul. "

"Oh yeah? Why don't you do any of that?"

"Age froze before some of these skills developed fully... I can do the last two fine however. I can also spit web but I'm not much of a weaver..."

"You keep proving me more and more wrong every time we meet, I guess."

"Oh?"

"I used to think you were just some pushover who was making a big fucking mistake for no good reason."

"I just play things close to the vest including my image. Rein would not be happy if I made these particular aspects public knowledge."

"Yeah, well...color me surprised that you're more hardcore." He smiled, just a bit more. "...Maybe us being friends isn't as far fetched as I thought."

"I'm liking the idea... you do not mind that I could cocoon a person in their sleep and drain out all their fluids?"

"Nah. That helps more."

"Oh? Really now?"

"I feel better around people who aren't afraid of getting their hands dirty and embracing it when they need to."

"Perhaps then I'll demonstrate these talents some time."

"You better." He looked down at himself. "Talking kind of helps take my mind off this...thanks."

"Mind off what?"

"The whole...bath thing. I was nervous about it considering the only other person who's seen me like this is...yeah. Enough said there."

"Ah... we're almost done, so it'll be over soon. I am glad to have made it easier for you though."

"If you're willing to talk with me like this...I'll let you do this again. IF I can't do it for myself. If."

"Mm. If."

"Yeah. Big emphasis there, I can take care of myself otherwise...but I appreciate it." He held out a hand, still sudsy. "We shook on a truce back during the Matthias thing, but...maybe we can do it again. This time to being friends, or trying anyway."

They took his hand. "I want this to go well. I think it will."

"Yeah...but also, if you tell anyone I was a sap about this, I'm denying it."

"Nobody will ever know."

"On the record, I was an asshole the whole time."

"Acknowledged."

"Deal."

[skinstealer]

Sanctuary- 2021
Ringor Mortis/Comorant, Punch Clock Animal/Universal Constants (Divine Timeline)
CW: Severe abuse, implications of sexual abuse/torture, heavy injury, Spit is a creep
An alternate Charon meets an old friend.

---

The god standing before Charon is as vile as ever, a wicked grin spreading across her raw flesh face. Behind her trails a chain, the other end of it unseen. 

SPIT: Long time no see, kid. You miss your daddy yet, little guy? 
SPIT: Or are you happy to be my partner now?

The dog refuses to make any sort of immediate eye contact. 

CHARON: Don't make this weirder than it needs to be.
SPIT: You're a god now, aren'tcha? 
SPIT: You're gonna have to handle more than a little weird.

She leans in, smoke getting in his eyes and nose as she blows a ring directly into his face. 

SPIT: After all, you work with me now.

He turns further away, resisting the urge to cough. 

CHARON: Don't expect me to give you the same leeway it did. 
CHARON: If you want to do business you're going to have to play nice.
SPIT: Big talk for somebody who's barely grown into their new form. 
SPIT: You don't look even half the part yet! 
SPIT: If it weren't for that family name of yours, people would think you're some kind of bougie asshole on the street! 

She snickers, poking a claw into his chest. 

SPIT: The look doesn't suit you, kid. 
SPIT: But I guess that's why your daddy Rein never liked you, huh? 
SPIT: The little fuck up heir, now on the throne at last.
CHARON: The opinions of a dead worm mean nothing to me. 

He pushes her hand away, grimacing. 

CHARON: I'm going to make this clear, if you want things to go well on your end I expect the same level of respect you gave it at minimum. 
SPIT: You think I treated it any better than this? 
SPIT: Only difference is it actually had the guts and the strength to try and shut me up.
CHARON: We all know how this sort of thing works, a young ruler is put in power and everyone proceeds to test the waters. 
CHARON: It's a game of seeing how much I'm going to let you get away with before I snap at you. 
CHARON: You and every other god in your little circle are going to put me through this until I put the line in the dirt.
SPIT: You're smarter than you look, kid. 
SPIT: The only difference is, I fully intend on making your life a living hell even after that fact, just like I do for everybody else. 
SPIT: The only special treatment you're gonna get is me riding your ass until the end of time. 
SPIT: Still... 

She taps a claw against her chin. 

SPIT: I have ways of making you help me. 
SPIT: Whole reason I came over, actually.

The dog finally makes eye contact. 

CHARON: Continue.

Spit yanks on the chain trailing behind her, a sharp yelp coming as an equally familiar cat stumbles forward. 

SPIT: You remember Maes, don't you?

The karacel is trembling slightly, looking more bruised than usual and covered in barely healed over cuts. Charon lets a pained expression slip, for only a moment. 

CHARON: You're awful, you know that?
SPIT: Oh, I'm very aware! 

She barrels on, clearly relishing the look on his face. 

SPIT: Maes' mom's great, best demon I could ask for, but she doesn't want me breaking the toy she made me in this early. 
SPIT: So...you're gonna patch her up, just like your sweet ol' parents did for Chelsea.
CHARON: What are you trying to pull here?"
SPIT: Nothing! I just want Maes here fixed up so I don't end up offing something that someone very special to me made. 
SPIT: But...if you don't work with me here, I might get a bit too angry and undo everything, just like that.
CHARON: You're going to keep me in check this way, huh?
SPIT: Are we going to have a problem with that? 

She pulls on Maes' chain a bit, getting a pained grimace out of her.

CHARON: ...Give me some time alone with her to patch her up and we'll talk after about whatever you're really here for.
SPIT: I give you a week. 
SPIT: Pretty sure you've got some of that fancy medicine kicking around, whatever ol Buck used on Chelsea to make her heal so quick. 
SPIT: You know the kind...oh, right. 

Her smirk only grows. 

SPIT: That was healing magic, wasn't it? 
SPIT: Hope you've got some of that, then, because I'm picking her up one way or the other.
CHARON: I'll do what needs to be done. 
CHARON: Where are you headed from here?
SPIT: Wouldn't yoooou like to know? 

Spit throws the chain at him, Maes nearly falling over again. 

SPIT: Just worry about my new toy.

Charon picks up the chain carefully, making sure not to tug.

CHARON: Don't have too much fun, I'll know.
SPIT: I'll make sure you do! 

She turns to head off, giving him a snarky wave on her way out. 

SPIT: Good luuuuck!

Charon wastes no time, immediately turning his attention to Maes and offering her a hand. 

CHARON: Are you okay?

She takes his hand carefully, wincing at the feeling on her injured hands. 

MAES: ...no...and I don't like you seeing me like this...
CHARON: What'd she do to you...?
MAES: It's more like what didn't she do to me... 

Maes shakes her head, having to lean on him just to stand. 

MAES: She's getting braver now that she knows what I can and can't take.
CHARON: I'm sorry... let's get you to a bed.

She nods, letting him lead. 

MAES: I'm sorry to just be a burden on you after we've been apart for so long...half a year felt like forever.
CHARON: There's nothing you could've done, Spit's... something.
MAES: You shouldn't force yourself to work with her just on my account...
CHARON: I'm just stalling as long as I need to...  

He leads them both into his room and closes the door behind him. The moment they’re sealed off, his hand starts shaking in hers. 

MAES: ...are you okay, Charon?

Charon squeezes her hand. 

CHARON: I don't really know a good way out of this. 
CHARON: I could tell her to piss off but she's only going to make things worse for everyone, and there's nobody around who could take her on.
MAES: Can't Wax do something? 
MAES: He made you a god in the first place, though I suppose that was in Rein's wishes...
CHARON: I feel like Wax wouldn't want to step in like that, plus there's nothing to Spit from taking it out on her own circles after.
MAES: If you explained the things that Spit wants you to do, though...
CHARON: I need to do more than just protect myself.
MAES: I mean...surely hearing these things would cause Wax to just, outright kill her or something, right? 
MAES: No one would tell on her before, but if you did now-
CHARON: The question is what would happen if nothing happens and word gets around. I need to prepare for that.
MAES: ...maybe when your form comes in, you'll be stronger than her. I don't know how, but...
CHARON: That scares me too, I'm afraid of what I'll end up like.
MAES: Have there been any signs of the transformation since we met? 
MAES: Any clues as to what's changing?
CHARON: Texture in places, skin is becoming more like Rein's...
MAES: You're not like it, if that's something you're worried about. 
MAES: From what you've told me, you couldn't be more different.
CHARON: Still... 

He leads her over to the bed. 

CHARON: Sit down, tell me where it hurts.

Maes takes a seat, exhaling as she sinks into the mattress. 

MAES: Mostly around my torso, but my arms got pretty messed up as well...

The dog pulls a box down from the top shelf. 

CHARON: I'll treat it as best I can. I'm not as good as well.... but I've figured out some of their magic.
MAES: You did? 

Her ears perk up a bit. 

MAES: How did you figure something like that out?

Charon can’t help but smile to himself. 

CHARON: When you're a god, now you have the time to look into these things.. I can't fix you all the way in one go though, so I'm glad Spit gave us a week.
MAES: She's going to get a hell of a surprise once she sees me fixed up, she was so confident you couldn't do it.
CHARON: What's got her so cocky?
MAES: As far as she knows, you haven't even come into any god powers yet.
CHARON: Truth be told, no idea if I do yet.
MAES: You haven't experimented at all?
CHARON: No idea where to start, wasn't best prepared for this... but I've got a few other things in my pocket.
MAES: Tell me about them while you heal me. 
MAES: I want to hear everything you've been up to.
CHARON: Made a few measures in case she tries to strike early, did some studies in the dark arts if you know what I mean. 

He opens up the box and slips on the large metal glove inside, loading a slot with a vial containing a scrap. 

CHARON: Looked into some relatives too but I'd feel bad dragging them into this.
MAES: Dark arts? 
MAES: What kind of dark are we talking about?
CHARON: Ghosts, witchcraft, you know any of that?

Maes only shakes her head. 

MAES: I never used to believe in any of that stuff before I was sent to Spit. 
MAES: I'm pretty sure that I have...some experience, but most of it is blocked out.
CHARON: There's a lot of hoaxes and fakes that I had to dig through but I've looked into some stuff that'll keep me safe.. maybe you too.
MAES: I'm listening.
CHARON: Watch this.

Charon gently grabs her hand and places it between both of his own. A finger pokes at her other arm. She jumps, fur fluffing up as best as it can with how matted it is. 

MAES: S-scary! That's you doing that?!

The extra finger pulls back. 

CHARON: Mm. Looked into a trick of sorts, people call it proxying. 
CHARON: It's... an ability that people without strong sensitivity or experience fighting use to deal with a lot of otherworldly threats. 
CHARON: You create an abstracted version of yourself.
MAES: Is it just like another you, then? 
MAES: Though I suppose the abstracted part would say otherwise...
CHARON: More like.... a projection or a puppet.
MAES: And you can make it do what you want?
CHARON: Mm... and it's pretty strong too.

Maes reaches out towards where it had poked her, fumbling to try and hold its hand. It allows it without much of a response. 

CHARON: I'm still tinkering with its abilities but I have high hopes.

She smiles, giving it a tiny squeeze. 

MAES: It's incredible. What can it do?
CHARON: For the most part it's a second person, but it has some weird interactions with scraps.
MAES: Like what?
CHARON: It can copy traits of the source of the scrap. 
CHARON: Not sure how far it goes but it's a start.
MAES: So...imitating people?
CHARON: Mm. I'm thinking if I could find a scrap from someone powerful enough I could take on Spit.
MAES: Does it have any side effects? 

Her voice drops into a concerned tone.

CHARON: What do you mean?
MAES: Well...is it pure mimicry, or is it copying? 
MAES: As in...would there be any effects on you, directly?
CHARON: As far as I can tell it's more like spoofing someone.
CHARON: A puppet more than the real thing.
MAES: That's a relief...while the fact that you've gotten this far is impressive, I do worry considering the fact that you literally referred to it as "dark arts". 
CHARON: Just a little dark humor.

She laughs a little, a hoarse but strangely cute sound. 

MAES: You're silly, Charon...I keep forgetting what that's like.

He smiles, warm and soft. 

CHARON: Gotta keep my mood up somehow right?
MAES: Well, it helps my mood too. It makes it a lot easier to get through this, and...I don't know, maybe I shouldn't say it.
CHARON: Why not?
MAES: It's just...lately I haven't been minding the things Spit puts me through as much, because she tells me that I'm going to have to come here and get fixed up by you. 
MAES: I think she means it more as a threat, considering she knows I hate being seen like this, but I've been trying to avoid showing that her jeers are more encouragement for me to keep going than anything... 

She fiddles with her free hand, still holding the proxy's with her other. 

MAES: Is that terrible? 
MAES: To be okay at all with being put through that?
CHARON: You'd go through that just to see me? 

The proxy lightly returns it with a squeeze.

MAES: I mean...I'm going to go through it as much as she wants me to...I guess I'm trying to look on the bright side and think "at least I'll get to see someone kind" afterwards...
CHARON: Hopefully if I could get her to back off I could get you out of this situation too....
MAES: Even if you can't...I'll do what I can to make it through this, okay? 
MAES: So don't be hard on yourself over it, please...
CHARON: I'll try not to, just promise me you'll come back the next time?
MAES: I promise.
CHARON: Then I'll try not to blame myself as much... 
CHARON: I should start working on you as a side note, anywhere you'd like me to start?
MAES: Around my ribs is where it hurts the most.
CHARON: Point to where it's worst.

She points to right above her abdomen, wincing as her hand grazes the area. 

MAES: She left some nasty cuts there...
CHARON: Brace yourself, I'll try to be as gentle as possible.

Maes nods and grits her teeth, steeling her nerves. Charon presses down with the glove, a strong tingling pulsing through. She tries not to react too strongly, still gripping his proxy's hand.

The proxy places another hand on hers, seemingly making an attempt to comfort her. The sensation starts to lighten up slightly after a bit of time. She exhales, trying to relax. 

MAES: It feels a bit better now.
CHARON: A couple more days of that and you should be good... 

He pulls his hands away.

MAES: Thank you…

She reaches forward and manages to get him in a light hug, not pressing down too hard with her injuries. He returns it just as carefully. 

CHARON: It's no big deal, anything for a good friend.
MAES: Will we be eating together later?
CHARON: Mmhm! Wherever you want, I'm just happy to have you here again...
MAES: Just here for tonight...I want to stay in and rest.
CHARON: We should have plenty around here, I don't mind either.

MAES: And...can we listen to the radio together again? 
MAES: I haven't had the chance since I've been here last.
CHARON: Of course! 
CHARON: I mean, if you really want to I can set that up as soon as we grab something to eat.
MAES: That would be nice... 

Maes rests her head against his shoulder, not even realizing it. Charon can't avoid blushing, red all over.

CHARON: A whole week together... if we get you healed up early we could adventure around the city a little.
MAES: Oh, like to the park you've mentioned?
CHARON: Mmhmm! If you're up for that later of course.
MAES: I'd like that....now I just want to heal up as soon as possible, so we can spend as much of this week relaxing as we can.
CHARON: I'll see if I can juice out another session tonight, sounds good?
MAES: Perfect. I feel a bit better already, just being here with you.
CHARON: Same... I'm going to figure out the Spit situation one way or another if it means more time for us.
MAES: Just...don't get yourself hurt, okay?
CHARON: Course, couldn't stand to make you sad like that.
MAES: Thank you...could we stay like this just a little while longer?
CHARON: Stay like what?
MAES: Just...holding each other. 

She can't help but blush a bit, matching his expression. 

MAES: It's nice to feel kind touch again after so long.
CHARON: Yeah! Yeah, as long as you need to. 
CHARON: I miss this too.

She closes her eyes and gets close and comfortable, exhaling contently. 

MAES: Let's make this week count.

He leans back against her, the most relaxed he's been in months. 

CHARON: No matter what happens, we're going to make some good out of the time we got.

[ThreadLurkingComorant]

A Rabbity Album
Como, Crankshaft Rafflesian
CW: None
Two Gay Rabbits Talk About Their Sexuality

---

---

 Jam: Surprise.
 
Lex: A-Ah!? When?! How'd you even send them to our own phone like that...

 Jam: Magic. You like?

 Lex: Kinda but in a really confused way? Like uh.... it's really fucking cute but also uh... it's.. I didn't even know we could look like that... 

 Jam: I have my secrets.

 Lex: The hair's so pretty... 

 Jam: Was hell to get done but it felt nice having it done up the way I've always wanted it to look.

 Lex: Oh god is there a whole set?!

 Jam: Yep, not gonna put in all that work just for one picture.

 Lex: How'd you even get this to happen?

 Jam: Had help, had to wait til you were asleep though. Dotty helped me pick some of the stuff out-

 Lex: Wait, was Dotty in on this? 

 Jam: Just a little, felt like she had pretty good input to give.

 Lex: Is she into stockings?

 Jam: Yes and it's your fault. 

 Lex: How?

 Jam: You wear a lot of leggings.

 Lex: They’re athletic leggings….

Jam: Your point?

Lex: They’re practical and comfy. Keeps us from scraping our knees, supports our muscles, and they fit nice under my dueling gear so they’re easy to work with.

Jam: yeah but like, you get ones with cute patterns all the time.

Lex: I mean I don’t see the problem with a few stripes or polka dots…

Jam: Dotty told me they’re adorable.

Lex: Really? Why didn’t she tell me…

Jam: Because you two don’t talk enough! I mean you do but like… you know.

Lex: Yeah. We uh…

Jam: Living together, spoon on a daily basis, but you both still get flustered by a little hand holding.

Lex: I mean I’ve gotten better but like… it’s kinda embarrassing to say honestly.

Jam: You can say it, I won’t snitch.

Lex: I like being close, and I like all the intimacy and being warm and seeing her smile but like….

Lex:  I get a lot out of the emotional aspect but I don’t get all that much from the physical aspect.

Lex: Like, getting all mushy and cozy is great! I love that… but it makes me feel bad when I can't get into the more touchy part of it, you know? Like… it makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.

Lex:  Don’t want to ask and then have her notice I guess. I don’t want her to be upset...

Jam:  If having sex’s got you this distressed, you really should bring it up. She’ll get it.

Lex: See that’s the thing like, I’m okay with the act itself, which makes it weird? Like… I just don’t like…

Jam: Yeah, I getcha.

Lex: Honestly it makes me a little jealous sometimes. You’re a lot braver about all this.

Jam: You’re braver when it comes to almost everything else, think it evens out.

Lex: I guess… still like…
 

Lex: Looking through this picture set you sent me, you’re so confident and you look pretty and I don’t know how to really do that…

Jam: You think I’m pretty…

Lex: I think you’re gay as shit.

Jam: I think you’re gay ass.

Lex: Yeah…. A lot actually.. Like look at that photo, didn’t know we could do that…

Jam: I can teach you if you want. I’d love to see your take..

Lex: Maybe? Maybe…

Jam: Honestly it’d be nice to have a picture of you to keep around too. Might be asking a lot though.

Lex: I mean…  I want to work on us too. I wanna make living with both of you the best it can be.

Lex: Just a lot of hurdles to jump over, you know? A lot of dealing with my brain being shitty all the time…

Jam: Honestly, you’ve been doing way better these days I think. Finally got a cocktail of meds that doesn’t fry either of us. You haven’t been as bad about your sleep schedule..

Lex: Varies.

Jam: It’s REALLY not as bad as it used to be. Everything was sleep, depression, and work.

Lex: Now it’s sleep, gay, and work.

Jam: Progress.

Lex: Heh… honestly, I think I’m gonna talk about what I said earlier to Dotty.

Jam: Yeah please, like, she’ll get it, and she’ll probably be able to help you brainstorm on it.
 Lex: I know she won’t be mad and I’m sure she’s got ideas….

Jam: But it’s scary still.

Lex: Mm…

Jam: I mean I’ll be there, and between you and me she’s had a lot of stuff she’s wanted to talk about with you.

Lex: Does she?

Jam: Yeah. She’s just as bad about saying shit too! It’s a good talk to have though.  Think in the end it’ll do a lot for everyone.

Lex: Mmm, thanks for the pep talk honestly... really do love you for being there for me.. For us at this point. Don’t know what my deal is sometimes and I don’t always feel my best but y'all always make me feel like I’m home. Can’t ask for more.

Jam:... 


Jam: Gay.

Lex: Yeah… gay.

[skinstealer]

A Cabinbound Respite- 2022
Ringor Mortis + B. Comorant, Punch Clock Animal/General Morbit
CW: Suggestive content, discussion of brainwashing/sexual abuse/physical abuse, depictions of ritual abuse 
A dream is shared.
 

---

????: ...hm.
 

A hybrid stands in the center of a clearing, glancing around at the trees surrounding them and trying to figure out where the light was coming from- what visible sky dark as pitch. They’re dressed primly, in a clean, white, buttoned-up dress and blue slacks- adorned with a large, matching blue ribbon on their chest. Their tail forms a sort of flattened double helix shape, and horns stick out on their skull.

They don't seem too bothered by their new situation, but don't seem comfortable either. 

????: This...is not the catacombs.
 

The road ahead gives some indicator on where to start, but something about the tension in the air makes the idea of standing around in one spot too long unappealing. The surrounding shadows and how they seemingly absorb anything past what’s lit aren't very encouraging of straying off either…

The hybrid starts moving down the path, keeping an eye on their surroundings. 

????: We'll just have to see, I suppose.
 

There’s something almost theatrical to the entire thing, like the world's largest stage more than a true forest. Still, it didn't seem like a place to mess around.

They risk calling out.

????: ...Is there anyone out there? 
 

There’s a long silence before the slightest voice in the distance could be heard.

????: ...what? 
 

They keep walking, picking up the pace as they raise their voice. 

???? (1): Who's there?
???? (2): Do I know you?
???? (1): I can't tell, you're too far away. Come closer.
 

The silhouette of a familiar canine knight comes into view from a distance, light reflecting off a metal mesh of an outfit, covered in scratches, arrows, and broken metal.

????: ...ah. It's you. Strange.
BUCKET: Is it really? 
BUCKET: Actually, do I know you? 
BUCKET: There's something familiar...
????: You don't know me, but I know you. 
????: I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'll be honest, I was never planning on making myself known.
BUCKET: What do you mean?
 

The corner of their mouth twitches into a brief smile. 

????: You can call me Lina.
 

Bucket holds out a hand immediately. 

BUCKET: Judgment... though if you really do know me perhaps such formality isn't needed? 
BUCKET: Something about you does feel quite familiar…
 

They take it, giving them a firm handshake. 

LINA: We've only crossed paths in person once or twice, but they were brief slivers of time, and you never seemed to notice me. 
LINA: I don't hold it against you of course- I am very stealthy when I want to be.
BUCKET: Mm... I also get the sense that you aren't just a figment of my dreams.
LINA: It appears not, which...I don't have any explanation there. 
LINA: The last time this happened, I wasn't involved.
BUCKET: Last time?
LINA: Mm. With Bazil, and Derry.
BUCKET: Then you are... like them?
LINA: Yes, I'm a part of that whole bunch. 
LINA: As I said, I wasn't planning on making myself known. 
LINA: Congratulations- you're the first person outside of our circle to know me as me.
BUCKET: Mm... I am curious why you hide yourself moreso than the rest.
LINA: I have my reasons.
BUCKET: Are they secret?
LINA: To the rest of my circle, yes. To you, we'll see.
BUCKET: That's ominous.
LINA: Not intentionally, though I've been told my bluntness can come off like that. 
 

They let their gaze wander to the trees around them, and Bucket themself. 

LINA: I'm guessing it isn't safe to just sit and talk here, though.
BUCKET: No, we should find shelter before something tracks us...
LINA: Lead the way, I'm not about to get lost in someone else's head.
BUCKET: Nothing can really hurt you in here, no?
LINA: I wouldn't know. 
LINA: Things can hurt me in our head.
BUCKET: That sounds terrifying... but I'll keep you safe.
 

The tiniest bit of blush crosses Lina’s cheeks. 

LINA: I can handle myself, but...cooperating sounds like our best move.
 

The dog offers a hand with a smile, having absolutely noticed their response. 

BUCKET: Mm. 
BUCKET: Between the two of us we'll be fine, though I'd rather not have an encounter at all. 
BUCKET: Shall we, then?
 

Lina looks down at their hand and hesitates for just a moment before taking it. 

LINA: I can't say I expected you to greet me with such hospitality, though I suppose that's silly of me.
BUCKET: You deserve it just as much as anyone, and well.. if you're like the others I'd want to offer you the same.
LINA: Like the others in what way?
BUCKET: Part of the same body, I suppose? 
BUCKET: I can't imagine you're having any better of a time with Spit, you're welcome to downtime during visits like the others.
LINA: Mm...I avoid Spit as much as I can. 
LINA: The main reason for my stealth is wanting to leave that kind of life behind, as cowardly as it may be to just have others deal with it.
BUCKET: I absolutely understand where you're coming from there. 
BUCKET: I'm not much better, I don't think... Rein's been pestering me about how frequently I've been out of the house and trying to put me on more brutal jobs lately. 
BUCKET: Seems to assume that working me nearly to death will keep me indoors.
 

Lina’s mouth pulls into a thin grimace. 

LINA: I can't say that I like the sound of Rein very much from what I know about it.
BUCKET: I hate it, despise it to the very core really.. and the worst part is It's so disgustingly controlling that I can't have so much as that. 
BUCKET: Anytime I enter a room with it that fury just... softens. 
BUCKET: Sometimes it just looks at me and it's all gone, even the opposite at times. It's unnatural. 
LINA: Ugh. 
 

They can't keep disgust out of their voice, practically spitting it out. 

LINA: People who abuse power like that deserve to be cut down without a second thought. 
LINA: Absolutely revolting.
BUCKET: Mm... I know it's doing something at this point, I cannot pin it down though.
LINA: Spit has a similar ability, but...it works far differently. 
LINA: I've managed to avoid it getting used on me, but...
BUCKET: A similar ability?
LINA: She can use her voice to manipulate a person, namely their impulses and emotions.
BUCKET: She can do that? Horrid...
LINA: Mm, she uses it to make people..."give in" to their desires and vices, no matter what they are- an intrusive thought can become a reality in a second, even if it's harming yourself or others, or something you've been trying to fight.
BUCKET: It's not quite like that for me. 
BUCKET: With Rein I just... lose any hint of defiance suddenly, become docile and unable to speak up for myself. 
BUCKET: Sometimes it manages to warp things enough that I almost enjoy being around it... it's made a habit of using such means to push this royal family-esque image.... lately it's been worse and the effects linger. 
BUCKET: I start having thoughts of submitting to the role it wishes for me to have... it scares me.
LINA: ...I can see why the others who know you want to take you out of this. 
 

They give Bucket’s hand a squeeze. 

LINA: Do you have something to hold onto?
BUCKET: What do you mean?
LINA: Something to keep you from falling into that abyss.
BUCKET: The abyss?
 

Lina pauses to choose their words carefully, wanting to convey this as best as they could.

LINA: Wherever Rein's trying to take you mentally. 
LINA: My best guess is that it wants to make you completely subservient to it...so what are you going to hang onto to resist that?
BUCKET: I... I don't really know. 
BUCKET: It's become much harder. 
BUCKET: I've had multiple opportunities to strike it down but everytime I consider I'm struck with this guilt that I know is not my own.
LINA: What about Chelsea, and the others? 
LINA: You could try making thoughts about them your anchor.
BUCKET: Mmm.. They mean a lot to me...
LINA: Then try to hang onto that. To them.
BUCKET: Perhaps you could be one of those too? 
BUCKET: I would like to get to know you.
LINA: That's rather forward.
BUCKET: I mean…
LINA: I didn't say no.
 

Their mouth does the twitchy smile again, Bucket blushing in return.

LINA: Though...you may be setting yourself up for disappointment.
BUCKET: What do you mean?
LINA: I don't come out unless I'm forced to, and you already have limited time with us. I wouldn't want to take away from time with the others.
BUCKET: Even if our time is limited, I think the quality of it matters more.
LINA: I don't know if I can provide that either, though. 
LINA: While I'm one of the few people here who have had relationships in the past, they were all casual flings bar one.
LINA: I don't know if I'm all that good at commitment...
BUCKET: It doesn't have to be anything specific, I would not force you into a relationship you wouldn't be comfortable with.
LINA: Then perhaps we'll see how things play out, mm? 
 

They look around the path, seemingly just as forested as before. 

LINA: Are you sure you know where you're going?
BUCKET: Mm... these are my woods, so to speak.
LINA: Then I hope we'll get to shelter soon, these kinds of spaces tend to set off my nerves...
BUCKET: Not a big fan of dark menacing forests?
LINA:  Grew up near one. 
LINA: I can get around them fine, but it's never fun to revisit.
BUCKET: Ah. Bad memories.
LINA: I'm one of the few that has them, so...yes.
BUCKET: Are there any others besides the four of you, by chance? 
BUCKET: I don't think I ever was given a number.
LINA: There are... 
 

They pause, counting in their head. 

LINA: Nine. 
LINA: That we know of, including the four you know.
BUCKET: Who are the other five?
LINA: Harvey, Pheles, Amber, Strawberry and Fly. 
LINA: Those are their names.
BUCKET: Many, but I hope to get to know everyone eventually.
LINA: Are you sure about that? 
LINA: You may not like what you find.
BUCKET: What do you mean?
LINA: I know that there are some that would be hostile towards you. 
LINA: Well...two, in any case. 
 

They grimace. 

LINA: Strawberry and Fly are...not people I'd recommend meeting by choice.
BUCKET: With a bit of work and charm I think I could earn their approval.
LINA: Well...charm may do it, but don't expect to have an easy time of it.
BUCKET: I'm sure they just need a bit of time to warm up.
LINA: Maybe... 
 

The hybrid looks unconvinced. 

LINA: They like to push people's buttons, is the thing.
BUCKET: I think I'd win.
LINA: I'm the only person they can't knock down, if you'd like some tips.
BUCKET: I'll have to ask when the time comes.
LINA: Not wanting to pre-emptively plan?
BUCKET: Depends, are they as cute as everyone else so far?
 

That actually got a snicker out of Lina. 

LINA: Forward, again.
BUCKET: Is it working? 
 

There’s a slight smirk on Bucket’s face, half pleased with themself and half hiding excitement.

LINA: Perhaps a little, but I can't say that I'm too keen on flirting in the middle of the woods. 
LINA: Had enough of that as a teenager.
BUCKET: Mm... save the rest for once we're safe? 
BUCKET: Almost there I think....
LINA: That sounds best, though I'm curious as to what you think "the rest" entails.
BUCKET: Depends how you feel, really.
LINA: I want to learn more about you first. 
LINA: Such as...why this forest?
BUCKET: Grew up in the woods with my mother, cabin somewhere near a small town in Wonder.  
BUCKET: Place is somewhat of a base for the entire family, many of us are knights. 
BUCKET: Have many cousins but a large majority are off continent or not working as part of the family business. 
LINA: I was an only child myself- a blessing, really. 
LINA: Having siblings in Consumption can turn ugly under the wrong parentage.
BUCKET: No siblings myself but quite a revolving door of relatives... I think I see a spot. 
 

The dog points out a small little cabin, unnaturally cozy looking against the otherwise menacing trees and darkness.

LINA: Hm. Is that somewhere specific?
BUCKET: No, but places like these are usually shelter here.. and frankly we may want to stay for the night soon, it gets worse around this time.
LINA: How can you tell any time here? 
 

The two of them approach the cabin, albeit a bit cautiously on Lina’s end.

BUCKET: Darkness gets closer to the path. 
BUCKET: It's on the verge of tickling it right now. 
BUCKET: Main havens are cabins, the central hub, and the railroad.
 

The dog goes ahead and gives it a look around. 

  

BUCKET: This should be good, lock the door behind you.
 

They don't hesitate to do so, stretching out after. While it wasn't immediately apparent on first glance, there’s the faintest hint of muscle under what fur of theirs is visible- far different from Chelsea or Derry. Bucket can’t help but blush just a little thinking about it. 

BUCKET: Seems to be bedding and enough stock to make it through the night. 
BUCKET: Make yourself at home.
LINA: Hm.
 

They stride over to the living room area and take a seat in one of the armchairs, crossing their legs and leaning back. 

LINA: Are you coming over to have a talk with me, or-?
 

The dog flops onto the couch after shedding their armor and setting it to the side. 

BUCKET: Mm. So where were we? 
LINA: You were being very forward about your interest in me.
BUCKET: Is that good or bad in your case?
LINA: I haven't decided yet. 
 

They lean onto one arm, their gaze evenly settling on the dog. 

LINA: Getting into something could be bad for me.
BUCKET: I hope I'm worth taking a chance then.
LINA: I've spent a long time not engaging with the outside world, Bucket. Decades. But...it does get lonely.
BUCKET: I'd be honored if you took those first steps with me.
LINA: I do wonder why you jumped so fast into flirting with me, though. 
LINA: While I'm more of the casual type in my past experiences, you always struck me as more committed when I saw you from afar. 
LINA: And yet...here you are, trying to get my affection.
BUCKET: ...Would the others be bothered? 
BUCKET: I've been exploring certain things ever since meeting Derry and Bazil but I suppose I should ask them first...
LINA: You already have relationships with them, don't you? 
 

They raise a brow. 

LINA: Surely there must have been a conversation about it.
BUCKET: I didn't know there were more than the other three but... I do want to be on good terms with everyone if we're going to be something...
LINA: Interesting. 
LINA: We have had conversations about it as a group, though I expected you to be privy to that. 
LINA: As far as what I'm allowed to do...I was pretty much passed over in the discussion, seeing as I don't come out. 
LINA: Chelsea did say that if it was what people wanted, they could pursue it, though...
BUCKET: I'm curious about how those discussions went now..
LINA: What would you give me if I told you?
BUCKET: What could I offer you?
LINA: I want to see what you come up with. 
LINA: Surprise me.
BUCKET: I will feed you.
LINA: ...feed me what?
BUCKET: Food.
LINA: What...kind of food?
BUCKET: There's a good selection of places in town, in the waking world? 
BUCKET: I'm certain the others can vouch.
LINA: So you mean...an external date?
BUCKET: It could be.
LINA: That's a lot to offer me.
BUCKET: You don't have to of course, it'd be nice just to go as friends as well.
LINA: I'm interested. 
LINA: I may be...significantly more awkward, though.
BUCKET: Why's that?
LINA: I haven't been on a date in 50 years, Bucket.
BUCKET: Your point?
LINA: I'm out of practice!
BUCKET: There's not really a way to practice, is there?
LINA: Well...no, admittedly. I suppose I'm mixed on the amount of confidence I have towards this.
BUCKET: Mixed in what way?
LINA: On the one hand, I haven't done this in decades. 
LINA: I'm out of the loop on what people even do these days. 
LINA: On the other...I have full confidence that I could make you melt, if I found the right buttons to push.
BUCKET: Daring words.
LINA: Provided I can get back into the swing of things, they're ones I can back up.
BUCKET: And what buttons are we working with here? 
BUCKET: Certainly you've gauged a starting point?
LINA: I've noticed that you're attracted to me, for one. 
LINA: What is it? 
LINA: The horns? 
LINA: The muscles?
BUCKET: You'll have to fish for information I do think.
LINA: Don't think I didn't notice you eyeing me on the way in. 
LINA: I bet you're the type that likes a bit of strength sometimes.
BUCKET: Perhaps I do have an appreciation for it.
LINA: What if I told you I was even stronger than I look?
BUCKET: Do continue.
LINA: For whatever reason, our group seems to take forms based on existing species in our big, wide world. 
LINA: Mostly Taverne, but...for me, I seem to be part de'moneres. 
LINA: Are you familiar?
BUCKET: Mm, my mother had a few jobs in Monte that always seemed to fall through.
LINA: As a result, my form here is extremely hard to damage, and stronger than basically any other person in our group.
BUCKET: Incredibly durable on the outside.
LINA: Interesting choice of words- on the outside.
BUCKET: Everything's squishy on the inside.
LINA: A fair point...though if you want to see my soft side, you're going to have to draw it out.
BUCKET: I can make that happen.
LINA: Try me.
BUCKET: You can't rush me, there's a dance to this!
LINA: Fair enough...I suppose I'm impatient, considering we don't know how much time we have here together.
BUCKET: A challenge then... but one I can certainly crack.
LINA: Do your worst.
 

The dog swoops in and lifts the hybrid right off their seat, getting a surprised squeak. Embarrassed by the noise, Lina does their best to regain their composure.

LINA: …Th-that's more like it.
BUCKET: I can't imagine anyone else in here can do this.
LINA: I'm not interested in most of them like that, even if they could.
BUCKET: Is anyone close like that actually? 
BUCKET: I do not know how this works entirely.
 

Bucket sits back on the couch, still holding Lina close. 

 
LINA: Close like how? 
LINA: As in, in a relationship? 
 

  

They dare to wrap their arms around the dog's neck. Bucket presses their nose into the hybrid’s shoulder, nuzzling up there.  

BUCKET: Mm.. I read that it sometimes happens in cases like yours.
LINA: Well...no, none of us are in relationships with each other. 
LINA: We're much too crabby and uncooperative for that. 
LINA: I can't deny that I wouldn't mind more time with Chelsea, but it's not well advised for us to spend time together.
BUCKET: Talk to me about that.
LINA: Are you sure? It's not very mood setting.
BUCKET: The others are allowed to talk about their feelings, it's only fair, no?
LINA: I suppose I just think we would get along, but I know things she shouldn't have to know, and I worry that even just being around me would dredge that up.
BUCKET: Would it really be that bad if she knew?
LINA: She doesn't remember practically anything from our childhood, and there's a reason why none of the people who do know things share it with her willingly. 
LINA: Remembering is...traumatic in and of itself, honestly- or at least it feels that way.
BUCKET: Does it hurt?
LINA: ...horribly so.
BUCKET: Perhaps a bit of my magic could help you?
LINA: Oh?
BUCKET: In this space my healing is much more stable. 
BUCKET: I could ease some of it, even if temporary.
LINA: Doesn't it...backfire on you?
BUCKET: Normally but... no material world, no physical toll.
LINA: And what about mentally?
BUCKET: Easier than usual, still.
LINA: I suppose it's worth a shot...
BUCKET: Would you like that then?
LINA: Go ahead.
 

Bucket offers them their hand, and Lina takes it, getting comfortable in their embrace.

BUCKET: You look cozy...
LINA: As much as I can be for this... 
 

They squeeze Bucket's hand, slightly shaky... The dog takes it as a sign to go ahead, a glow connecting them and filling in any kind of mental tears, trying to ease pain both emotional and physical. 

Lina grits their teeth a bit as the memories wash over them, the first real solid show of vulnerability so far. As Bucket concentrates, overlapping feelings and voices flood into them, mixed with sporadic spikes of intense pain. The dog does their best to grin through it. 

BUCKET: It's okay, just going to do a little...
 

Flashes of being held, only for it to give way to hurt- Lina curls up slightly in their arms at that, shoving their face into Bucket's neck. Bucket gives them a tight squeeze, holding the shaking hybrid close. 

BUCKET: Do you need me to stop?
LINA: No, it's...it feels a little better... 
 

They sound far less confident now, but in a way that feels...earnest.

BUCKET: Are you certain? I'm almost done but...
LINA: Just keep holding me...
 

Bucket goes for another comforting nuzzle. One flicker of memory stands out particularly strongly as Lina returns it, a slight whimper coming out of her mouth as it plays out.

Emily, Emily, you're going to be okay, we're going to be fi-

 

A strangled gurgle punctuates the memory, Lina letting out a low, pained sigh. 

LINA: It does feel a bit better now, I just...wish you didn't have to see it...
BUCKET: I'll be fine, your secrets are safe and I can tank it as much as I have to...
LINA: You promise you won't tell Chelsea any of it? 
LINA: I don't know how much you actually got, but...
BUCKET: I wouldn't know how to describe a lot of it if I wanted to.
LINA: Guessing it comes across strangely, then... 
 

They keep their face close to the dog's, not wanting to draw away yet. 

 
LINA: ...Bazil and Chelsea have said that the effects are wholly soothing towards the one being healed, but I imagine trying to heal one's mental pain inherently means drawing out the memories of the person in question.
BUCKET: It can vary and be complicated... it's also not really a guaranteed long term fix, but can lighten the emotional toll.
LINA: It does feel somewhat easier to think about, less spikes of pain when I remember- but I do wonder how much of that is just...the act of being known, held, felt.
BUCKET: Oh?
LINA: I've been alone for a long time…
 

The vulnerability creeps back into their voice, making them sound almost...soft.

BUCKET: I'd like to change that, if you would allow it.
LINA: I don't know if I can resist it at this point, not when I'm actually in someone's arms again like this. 
LINA: There's just...
BUCKET: Just?
LINA: I know you can't be by our side.
BUCKET: Why not?
LINA: You work for Rein. 
LINA: We work for Spit. 
LINA: The second that they find out about this...
BUCKET: Then they'll never find out.
LINA: You can't guarantee that...
BUCKET: I know, but I rather have something to cling to than nothing.
LINA: I suppose we're different in that respect, then...
BUCKET: If it does come down to us being found, we'll escape together.
LINA: They'd chase us until we're dead.
BUCKET: Then they'll hunt forever.
LINA: You're willing to accept that?
BUCKET: Mm.
LINA: ...I don't want to have someone die for me again.
BUCKET: ...Again?
LINA: You saw as much, in the memories.
BUCKET: Who was that?
LINA: The one person I ever got serious with. 
LINA: They...were killed during Spit's ritual. 
 

They do that twitchy smile again, but this time, all grim. 

LINA: Everything we've ever been given, she's taken away in some form.
BUCKET: Upsets me how useless I've been when it comes to being able to take her on...
LINA: It's not like we're any better with Rein.
BUCKET: No.. at least I'd have some chance there.
LINA: If you really think we can survive through this...and you really, really believe it...I can try.
BUCKET: I'll do whatever it takes.
LINA: Okay…
 

Their voice grows quiet. 

LINA: I'll try.
BUCKET: I won't let things end on a sour note for us.
 

Lina's quiet for a moment.

LINA: ...may I ask you for something?
BUCKET: Of course.
LINA: May I kiss you?
BUCKET: Please do.
 

Lina leans in, trying to start gently- Bucket returning the kiss just as light. After a moment the two of them pull away, looking into each other’s eyes.

LINA: I'm surprised I was able to keep it that chaste, but...I don't know your pace.
BUCKET: We just met so... I wanted to play it safe.
LINA: Looks like we're both being cautious, then.
 

They trace a claw along the dog's cheek. 

LINA: Do you want to change that?
BUCKET: As long as you're sure...
LINA: I think I want to try.
BUCKET: Then we'll give this our best, I want all of us to have something nice to hold onto.
LINA: Hold me, then. 
LINA: For as long as we have.
 

Lina leans in for another kiss, losing themself in the warmth of the dog's embrace. 

Everything seemed to melt into a soft haze, the cabin feeling like...home.

Despite the dark outside and the waking world ahead, nothing else really mattered.

[skinstealer]

Shifting - 2022
Ringor Mortis + B. Comorant, Punch Clock Animal/Universal Constants (Rein Era)
CW: Mentions of sexual abuse/sexual mutilation, ritual abuse mentions, severe gender and physical dysphoria, gender denial, some non-graphic sexual content
Chelsea gets caught.

---

It's quiet in the catacombs, the now-familiar tunnels of the Smiles' mind winding and tangled, soil and stone walls marred with occasional veins of flesh and claw marks. As unnerving as the mental realm is, visiting the Smiles in dreams, even long distance, had become regular for Bucket Judgment, and while they may have been physically apart between visits, the chance to meet again is something everyone involved jumped at the chance for.

The Judgment in question begins scoping around, keeping an eye out for familiar landmarks in hope of tracking down the room of a friendly face. As the tunnels turn and twist, voices can be heard- ones they were very familiar with, but....clearly unhappy.

BAZIL: -can't fucking believe you. 
BAZIL: Cannot fucking believe you- 
CHELSEA: Bazil- 
BAZIL: No, I don't want to hear it.

BUCKET: Chelsea? Bazil? 
 

The dog follows the echo, keeping a good pace. The voices stop, only for the sound of people approaching to take their place. As Bucket speeds along, they reach a clearing- Bazil storming in around the same time.

BAZIL: You picked a hell of a time to show up, Buck. Chelsea's really gone and done it now.
BUCKET: Pardon? Gone and done what exactly?
 

Before Bazil can reveal the object carried at his side, Chelsea bursts in and tries to take it away from him, the two grappling and snarling at each other. 

CHELSEA: I-It's nothing! 
CHELSEA: He's just- 
BAZIL: Fuck off! 
CHELSEA: -being ridiculous!
BUCKET: Please don't fight...
BAZIL: She touched my stuff! 
CHELSEA: Just- 
BAZIL: No! 
BAZIL: No, you don't get to try and good guy out of this one, you know what you did was messed up!
BUCKET: Could I get filled in further than this? 
BUCKET: What was touched?
CHELSEA: Don't- 
 

Bazil manages to wrangle away from the karacel, shoving her off with a warning zap. 

BAZIL: This.
 

In his hands is a leather harness Bucket had seen on many occasions to Bazil's room in the catacombs, complete with the piece of silicone the pockitt had spent months refining the shape and size of.

Realizing exactly what it is, the dog has to try hard not to blush. 

BUCKET: I'm certain there's a reason....
BAZIL: This is- this is my thing! 
BAZIL: My stuff! 
BAZIL: She saw it one time and I guess she's just been biding her time to snoop around- 
CHELSEA: Bazil-
BAZIL: And for fuck's sake, put it on! 
BAZIL: It's a complete intrusion of my privacy!
BUCKET: Chelsea? 
BUCKET: You have to have a explanation, no?
 

Chelsea's jaw snaps shut, her gaze settling far away from Bucket's. 

CHELSEA: ...
BUCKET: Ah..
 

The dog looks over at Bazil, the pockitt fuming. 

BUCKET: Caught wearing it?
BAZIL: Yes! 
CHELSEA: It was- 
CHELSEA: I was just trying-
BUCKET: For what reason? 
BUCKET: Couldn't you make your own?
CHELSEA: I couldn't! 
 

Chelsea grips her hands into fists, Bazil shutting up at the sudden outburst.

BUCKET: ...Talk to me about it.
CHELSEA: ...It's not important.
BUCKET: I think it is.
CHELSEA: It was just a stupid idea-
BAZIL: What, to take my stuff?
CHELSEA: No, to try it!
BUCKET: You could've asked me if you wanted to mess with something like that.
CHELSEA: It doesn't matter, I- 
 

She’s visibly struggling to keep herself together. 

CHELSEA: I didn't even like it, so there wasn't a point.
BUCKET: You can talk to me about it, I won't shame you..
CHELSEA: There's nothing to shame, aside from the fact that I did something pointless.
BUCKET: If you risked getting in trouble it can't be pointless.
 

Chelsea doesn't respond to that, Bazil crossing his arms after a few moments of silence. 

BAZIL: ...So you didn't just break in to fuck with me and my stuff.
CHELSEA: No! 
CHELSEA: I just...I couldn't make my own.
BAZIL: You tried, then?
CHELSEA: ....
BUCKET: Why haven't you ever brought it up before?
CHELSEA: I... 
 

The karacel slumps, looking defeated more than anything. 

CHELSEA: ...I don't want to talk about this where monsters can get us.
BUCKET: Can we move this somewhere safer, then?
BAZIL: ...we didn't get too far from my room.
 

Chelsea startles at the sound of Bazil's tone, surprisingly...calmer, than he was before. 

BAZIL: I need to put this thing back anyway before someone else finds out and heckles me over it.
BUCKET: Good call, lead the way.
 

The pockitt starts down the tunnel he came from, Chelsea hesitating before trailing behind, keeping close to Bucket. Bucket tries to give Chelsea an assuring smile, something she was used to by now. However- she just shrinks a little at that, still avoiding their gaze.

The dog tilts their head in confusion, but keeps quiet the rest of the walk.

It doesn’t take long for the three of them to reach the door to Bazil's room, the resident in question opening the door and heading through. 

Inside is an environment just as familiar to Bucket as the rest of the mental world- a cage fighting ring with empty stands, the trio's footsteps echoing through the lonely, intimidating space.

Bazil approaches a trapdoor by the edge of the ring as Chelsea closes the door up behind them, the pockitt able to heave it open and start climbing down. 

BAZIL: Don't get too cozy, I just want to hear this out.
BUCKET: Likewise, this seems really important.
 

Chelsea clambers down the ladder after Bucket, the three of them awkwardly standing there before Bazil hops onto his bed and crosses his legs. 

BAZIL: So? You gonna talk?
CHELSEA: ...don't interrogate m-
BAZIL: Not trying to. 
BAZIL: Sorry.
BUCKET: Take your time.
 

She leans against the ladder and takes a deep, shuddering breath. 

CHELSEA: ...I didn't bring it up before because I don't even think there's anything "to" bring up. 
CHELSEA: It's just curiosity and bitterness at my situation, that's all.
BUCKET: There's nothing wrong with wanting to explore things.
CHELSEA: I'm not- I'm not like him, or you, or Derry, I just- 
CHELSEA: I'm just upset at people calling me things like woman and wife and girl because that's all cultist talk, that's what they always call me and I know they mean it in a way that makes me feel sick. 
CHELSEA: It's nothing more than that.
BUCKET:That's worth bringing up! You should...
CHELSEA: I guess, but that doesn't make it a thing. 
 

She pauses for a moment, looking down at her feet. 

CHELSEA: ...right?
BUCKET: Would that really be a problem? 
BUCKET: Neither of us are going to rip into you over it. 
CHELSEA: ....
BAZIL: They're right. 
BAZIL: I get pissy about you touching my shit, and I've got a right to that, but I...wouldn't fuck with you over this.
CHELSEA: I didn't even...I didn't even like the way the harness felt, though. 
CHELSEA: It felt wrong. 
CHELSEA: That must mean I'm just...broken, right? 
CHELSEA: That I don't like either option?
BUCKET: That doesn't mean anything's wrong, nor does it mean you're forced to be one or the other... what happened when you tried it?
CHELSEA: It just felt...heavy. 
CHELSEA: Like something that wasn't meant to be there, too awkward, not like a part of me at all.
BUCKET: Keep going.
CHELSEA: It just made me upset, honestly. 
CHELSEA: I...I thought maybe, I could put it on and it would come to me that yes, this is a way I want to be! 
CHELSEA: But...it didn't. 
CHELSEA: And now I'm even more confused.

BAZIL: So... 
 

Bazil rocks back and forth, thinking. 

BAZIL: What'd you have, then? 
CHELSEA: What would I have?
BAZIL: Yeah, if you could pick.
CHELSEA: ...nothing, I guess.
BUCKET: No idea how possible it is out there on a permanent level, but...in here I could make that happen for you.
 

Chelsea immediately looks up at them, her eyes shining for a brief moment. 

CHELSEA: You could?!
BUCKET: Illusionary magic becomes essentially the real thing in a place of mind.
CHELSEA: I guess you did give Derry clothes back then... 
BAZIL: They've done it for me before, too. 
 

Bazil clears his throat a bit, his turn to glance away. 

BAZIL: The, uh. 
BAZIL: Changing.
BUCKET: Mm.. As it turns out I'm essentially a reality bender in here.
 

Chelsea nods, thinking it over.

CHELSEA: I just...want people to stop calling me feminine terms, and I don't want anything people can screw, or hurt, or cut up...
BUCKET: That's something we can do, at least in the safety of this place.
CHELSEA: But...I don't want to change my name! 
CHELSEA: I don't- 
CHELSEA: I mean, I wouldn't be opposed to stop being called "she", but I don't know what I'd fill it in with...
BUCKET: Other options not particularly clicking or...?
CHELSEA: ...I haven't tried.
BUCKET: Now's as good a time as any.
CHELSEA: I-
 

Bazil cuts in, trying something.

BAZIL: Chelsea's, uh....they're my....ffffffriend? 
 

Chelsea just gives him a look. 

BAZIL: Look! 
BAZIL: I don't actually know how to sum up our relationship! 
BAZIL: We're just testing shit anyway!
CHELSEA: Well...that doesn't work in any case, feels better but still off.
BUCKET: I propose this then. Some more experimentation.
 

Bucket turns to face Bazil, a light smile on their face. 

BUCKET: What do you think we should do about Chelsea? 
BUCKET: How can we help him out here?
 

Chelsea's ears perk up, Bazil noticing immediately. 

BAZIL: Well, we could try terms for him out, see what he likes being called and shit.
BUCKET: We could ask him how he feels on it. 
 

The dog turns over to Chelsea with a bit of a smirk.

CHELSEA: I, uh... 
 

He swallows. 

CHELSEA: ...maybe that one's good.
BUCKET: Think so?
CHELSEA: It feels....better.
CHELSEA: Actually good, even. 
CHELSEA: Still would rather have nothing than Bazil's setup, though…
BAZIL: If it means you'll stop stealing my shit, I can endorse it.
BUCKET: Like I said, I can make it happen in here at the very least.
BAZIL: In that case... 
 

Bazil hops off of his bed, gently slinging his harness underneath it. 

BAZIL: You get my room for half an hour. 
BAZIL: No mess.
CHELSEA: Wait, really?
BAZIL: I'm not making you walk back through monster hell, you'd probably just get too nervous to do it after. 
BAZIL: Gotta strike while the iron's hot, or however it goes.
BUCKET: Are you certain?
BAZIL: Yeah, yeah. 
BAZIL: Take the offer before I change my mind. 
 

He waves a hand at the two of them before starting up the ladder, leaving them to it.

 

Bucket turns toward Chelsea, their expression soft. 

BUCKET: How would you like to do this?
CHELSEA: Well, I...uh... 
 

He slowly makes his way over to the bed, sitting on the edge. 

CHELSEA: I guess we should do the actual transformation first...you need me to take stuff off?
BUCKET: If you'd be okay with that.
 

Chelsea nods, undoing his pants and shuffling them off. He hesitates for a minute before following suit with underwear, feeling extremely self conscious that he was about to be focused on. 

CHELSEA: How's this work?
BUCKET: Close your eyes and give me your hand.
 

He shuts his eyes and held his palm out for them, his arm shaking just enough to be noticed. The dog rubs his hand in a gentle and assuring way, keeping their voice soft. 

BUCKET: You'll be okay...
CHELSEA: What if I don't like it? 
CHELSEA: And there's just, no option for me...
BUCKET: We can keep looking… but for now, I'm going to lead your hand. 
BUCKET: Is that okay?
 

Chelsea nods, trying to steady his nerves. Bucket pulls the karacel’s hand down low, up until it makes contact. Something immediately changes, a warm feeling spreading over him…

CHELSEA: ...did you do it already?
BUCKET: Mmhmm. 
BUCKET: Take a look.
 

He opens one eye slowly, and then the other. All there was was a smooth patch of fur, a gentle rub with his fingers revealing no orifices or protrusions. Just...nothing. 

CHELSEA: It's...soft.
BUCKET: How do you feel?
CHELSEA: I wasn't expecting it to happen so quick, so a little anxious still...but... 
 

Chelsea keeps moving his hand over himself, getting a feel for it. 

CHELSEA: Freeing, somehow.
BUCKET: It's a matter of simple redirection, a magic trick in a world where it's just as real.
CHELSEA: ...could you hold me, while I feel this out?
BUCKET: Absolutely, how do you want me to take care of you?
 

He makes room on the bed for Bucket to shuffle in. 

CHELSEA: Just...let me sit in your lap. 
CHELSEA: I just want to feel you keeping me steady.
 

Bucket scoots next to him, giving him a kiss between the ears.

BUCKET: Go for it, I'm with you all the way.
 

He leans back against Bucket's chest, getting comfortable as he takes a shaky breath. 

CHELSEA: I'm here with you, I'm safe. 
CHELSEA: You're helping me through it...
 

Bucket wraps their arms around his waist, holding him close. 

BUCKET: It's all going to be okay…
 

He lets himself slouch against them as he moves his hand back to feel, trying not to miss anywhere. 

CHELSEA: It's completely smooth...but still kind of sensitive?
BUCKET: Is that okay, or do you need me to change it further?
CHELSEA: No, that's fine...I just...don't want the pressure of needing to get off anymore, if that makes any sense? 
 

He can't help but blush, speaking so candidly. 

CHELSEA: It's a lot of things, but that's one of them...
BUCKET: Do you still want to feel something out of it?
CHELSEA: Maybe, yeah...I like being cozy and intimate with you, I just don't want to feel a need for it, you know? 
CHELSEA: Something I can engage with whenever I'm actually ready for it.
BUCKET: Would it be okay if I touched it?
CHELSEA: Yeah...go slow. 
 

Chelsea moves his hand out of the way, the dog placing their hand down lightly, just enough to get a sense of texture. It’s soft and very gently squishy, just a bit warm to the touch. 

CHELSEA: Ahh...it's kind of nice, you can put a little more pressure down...
BUCKET: Are you certain?
CHELSEA: We're trying things out, right?
BUCKET: Of course, I just worry of your comfort but…
 

Chelsea lets out a shaky exhale as his partner goes further, sinking further into their lap. 

CHELSEA: It's good...
BUCKET: It's really soft…
CHELSEA: Weird to think any part of me is, really.
BUCKET: It's nice though, I think. 
BUCKET: Feel good on your end?
CHELSEA: A lot better than what I had before...when we're close with each other like this, cuddling has always been what I like the most, and this feels...like that's the main way to interact with it. 
CHELSEA: No worries about penetration, or getting off, or getting hurt in some way...no need to finish, just...there for sensation. 
CHELSEA: It's safe.
BUCKET: It's kind of cute too...
CHELSEA: You think so?
BUCKET: Mm... I like it quite a bit I think.
CHELSEA: Do you think it suits me? 
CHELSEA: And...using he, too?
BUCKET: Perfectly.
CHELSEA: I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I just...I know that you're transgender yourself and I worried that- it's stupid, but I thought you and Bazil might tell me that what bothers me doesn't count, or make sense.
BUCKET: I'd never, and I don't think Bazil would either.
CHELSEA: Yeah...as much grief as we give each other, he's never been shitty to any of us about that kind of thing.
BUCKET: He's really not bad once he opens up.
CHELSEA: He did give us his own room for this... 
 

He leans back to nuzzle against the dog's neck, purring just under his breath. 

CHELSEA: ...speaking of, try feeling a bit more. 
CHELSEA: I want to see how strong the sensations can get, but go slow.
 

Chelsea startles slightly as Bucket obliges, melting into their touch.

BUCKET: Like this?
CHELSEA: Y-yeah... 
 

He fluffs up at the extra stimulation, pushing very gently into their hand.

BUCKET: So cute...
CHELSEA: T-try using he for me again...
BUCKET: I absolutely adore him...
CHELSEA: More.
BUCKET: He really means a lot to me..
CHELSEA: God, I love the way that feels...
BUCKET: Tell me about it.
CHELSEA: I thought... 
 

He can't help but take a deep breath, visibly starting to choke up. 

CHELSEA: I thought I wouldn't need this...
 

Bucket pulls him in for a hug, nice and warm.

BUCKET: It's okay...
 

He sniffles into the dog's neck, wrapping his arms around. 

CHELSEA: Thank you...
BUCKET: You needed this, I'm glad I could do that for you...
CHELSEA: It's...hard, because I know I can't actually do anything about this, not in real life. 
CHELSEA: The cultists are still going to call me a woman, Spit will still call me her wife, and I'll get abused in ways that make me feel sick about my body all over again...
BUCKET: If we ever make it out of this, we'll do anything and everything to help you out.
CHELSEA: I don't want to get my hopes up for that...
BUCKET: I still want to try.
CHELSEA: ...and you'll change me like this any time you come over? 
CHELSEA: Even in person?
BUCKET: Absolutely.
CHELSEA: ...I love you, Bucket.
BUCKET: Just giving you my best, always.

[ThreadLurkingComorant]

Crankshaft One Shot - Someone to Forget
CW: Heavy discussion of Sexual Harassment/Trauma

You are Dotty.

You’ve just finished prepping dinner in the other room. You've gotten into the habit of learning to cook in the past couple of months.

As much as you and your partner were in the habit of eating out regularly in the days before you moved in together, you both realize you need to eat better. 

It’s been therapeutic almost. If you weren’t so secure in your current job you’d consider taking some culinary courses. 

Normally your partners Lex and Jam pitch in but they’ve been resting in the bedroom almost entirely since coming home from work. 

You turn off the burner and check off to check on your rabbity friend. 

You knock on the bedframe door. Their ears perk for a moment only to flop back down.

Dotty: Hey, you doing okay? You it’s about time to eat and you’ve just been so quiet…

???: I’ll be out in a sec. Just.. you know.

Dotty: Something up? You sound off…

???: Little bit… It’s something I’ll get over.

Dotty: You can talk to me.

???: Maybe, it’s kinda hard right now…

Dotty: It might make you feel better…

Dotty: If you need your space though that’s fine too.

???: Honestly I don’t want to be alone right now. Like…. 

???: I’m kinda struggling to ground myself. 

Dotty: I’ve got you. Hugging okay?

???: Yeah, hugging is fine…

You give the rabbit a big hug.  

They give you a tiny smile.

???: Thank you…

???: I don’t know who I am right now and it kind of scares me a bit.

Dotty: What do you mean? 

???: Like, who am I right now?

Dotty: I mean you were Jam earlier right? But based on how you’re talking… that’s kind of hard actually. 

Dotty: Usually your face and voice give it away but right now there’s not really a clear tell. 

???: I can’t tell either. Think whatever’s hitting me right now is doing a number on both of us.

???: I got an idea what it is though.

Dotty: Tell me.

???: It’s kind of heavy, you sure?.

Dotty: Course I am, you’d do the same for me right?

???: I mean yeah..

Dotty: I got a lot of stuff going on too and you always listen. Only fair.

???: You’re 100% good with this.

Dotty: Yes! Now come on, let it all out.

???: So…

???: The summer after graduating was kinda hard if I’m honest. We met up once and then after that everyone focused on future plans. Didn’t have the best grades and I wasn’t up to join the navy like a lot of folks in my situation did you know?

Dotty: Right, you talked about this before.

???: There was one guy who stuck around though. We knew each other but didn’t really bond much until those few months where I really needed a friend more than anything.

???: And well… 

???: In hindsight, there were a lot of red flags. 

???: He was a real horny on main type to the point that his folks were pretty numb to it. 

???: Dude drew piles of stuff and just covered his bedroom walls in it. Really into military stuff in more than one way.

???: Would’ve probably gotten gross around you honestly….

Dotty: Yeah…I mean I would’ve just punched him if he started shit.

???: Please! Just.. nasty dude. He really kept trying to push a lot of it my way and sorta fished for responses? His art style was pretty gross too honestly. Make it obvious what he was into and a lot of it just put me the fuck off. 

Dotty: Yeah?

???: Lot of kinda mean stuff, really destructive and degrading. I dunno.

???: For a long time being around him made me like… actively hate the idea of having any feelings like that. Didn’t even want to be attracted to a person after a point.

???: We had plenty of fun outings at first but a lot of the time I felt embarrassed you know?

???: But I really didn’t want to be on my own…

???: At the time I was big into writing for fun, and one day he found out.

???: Got really insistent that we should write together. He got really creepy about it though. 

???: Had this really jingoistic vibe that I could never get behind. Anything put me off of him before was sort of just elevated.

???: Started avoiding talking to him online after that if I could. Kinda had a vampire effect though.

Dotty: You let him through the door and he goes for your neck.

???: Yeah. Not in a sexy way though. Like…

Dotty: Like?

???: Like… god he got weird about a bunch of things. Dragged me into all sorts of situations where he’d make an ass of himself. Got me into trouble with my folks a few times. 

???: Would regularly send me some of his kink art even though I made it clear I wasn’t into it. Was always hoping that he’d be able to get me into it. 

Dotty: You told him to stop?

???: Mm.. didn’t really do much honestly. 

???: Should’ve never put up with as much as I did.

???: Last straw was the last time we met in person. Got weirdly handsy that day, really wanted to test his luck.

???: Decked him hard enough that his face gushed with blood but..

???: I dunno, dude was obviously trouble and I should've bailed so much earlier.

Dotty: I mean how old were you at the time?

???: 17. We both were and I guess I shouldn’t be surprised or blame myself for not doing more but… I dunno.

???: Anyway I kept quiet about it until one day my mom started snooping through my computer. Screamed her ass off at me when she went through my messages. 

???: Never had seen her that pissed before. Thought my life was over for a sec honestly.

???: His parents got involved, turned into a big shitstorm. 

???: He got a slap on the wrist while I just had to live with knowing they thought I was some kind of weird pervert.

???: I dunno….

Dotty: You got in trouble over his shit?

???: I mean… yeah. She read it all outloud to my dad too and everything. 

???: Fucking winced the entire time. Hearing my mom read the phrase “fuck like bunnies” outloud made me want to just die on the spot.

???: Legit was ready to just fall over. Cried a lot…

You give your partner a squeeze. They nuzzle up.

???: I think both of us just… remember that vividly. After that became super sex repulsed for a long time. Thought of it made all that guilt and shame just flood back.

???: Makes me feel sick if I think about it too much.

???: Anyway I made the stupid mistake of looking through old emails and seeing that again by accident.

Dotty: That’s not your fault.

???: Maybe not but… I dunno.

???: It’s been years. He’s probably more than moved on and I’m still feeling the effects of that.

???: Both of us are. 

???:Hate that. Wish I could just beat his ass into the ground.

???: Hope he just thinks of me every once in a while and hyperventilates. 

???: Chokes on his food remembering me…

???: It’s petty I guess but… I dunno.

???: I hate the idea that he got it easy and I’m still dealing.

Dotty: I mean I’d kick his shit in. 

Dotty: You ever see him on the street and his ass is grass. 

???: Put him in a box. 

Dotty: Ship him off. 

???: Hehe… 

Dotty: Got you to smile! 

???: Yeah, you did. 

Dotty: Seriously though, point him out and he’s dead.

Dotty: Like no joke, I’d break that dude like a pretzel. 

???: You’d get in trouble.

Dotty: Who cares, fuck that guy. I don’t want you to ever feel unsafe like that ever again. Either of you. 

???: You’re the best, you know that?

Dotty: Aww, I mean… I’m trying.

???: You are! I want you to know that. 

???: Nobody else would ever do a thing like that for me. 

Dotty: I know you’d do the same thing.

???: Yeah but… you know.

Dotty: Mm?

???: You’re buff as hell, couldn’t really do some of the things you can.

Dotty: I always got your back…

???: I need that, knowing I’m safe means a lot. I’m kind of a dumbass so-

Dotty: You’re not a dumbass!  You can’t blame all that on yourself.

Dotty: And I’m glad you can talk to me about something like this you know? 

Dotty: Seriously, I know it’s hard. It’s really fucking hard.. You took a big step by letting it out you know?

???: It was… but having you listen made it easier.

???: Don’t know how long I’ve been keeping that to myself but..

???: I love you. I’m glad I don’t have to anymore

Dotty: Love you too…

???: I’ll be out for dinner just.. Hold me a little longer?

???: Not ready to let go just yet.

Dotty: Go for it.

Dotty: Hold on as long as you need to.

[skinstealer]

Chessboard - 2022
Ringor Mortis + B. Comorant, Punch Clock Animal/Universal Constants
CW: Mentions of sexual abuse/CSA, suggestive content
A conversation takes a turn, and Maes makes a discovery about their partner.
Commissioned by @AceOfNothing!

---

MAES: ....
 

Maes laying down in bed with their audio player, having told Charon they were going to do some audiobook time, usually means a calm evening....

But today, they just have a grimace.

Across the room, Charon tinkers away at the workbench in the corner. Though he generally tries to not interrupt, each look over fills him with increasing amounts of concern..

It’s a few more minutes before Maes finally lets out a sigh, taking out their earbuds and rolling onto their stomach, face in their pillow.

CHARON: ...Boss?
MAES: This book is stupid.
MAES: Fiction is stupid.
CHARON: That bad?
MAES: I read online that this is a good book to start with if you're looking to break into romance novels- and I figured "oh, maybe this will give me some ideas of things to do with Charon! I could use some research!"
MAES: -not knowing that I would be a fool for it and that of course, a book like this is written with a very specific kind of experience in mind, that I do not fall into.
 

Charon stands up from his desk, walking over.

CHARON: Continue.
MAES: It's just-
 

They roll back over, their voice no longer as muffled.

MAES: If I have to read another book about how the concept of virginity is "sacred", I'm going to break something.
CHARON: Never really understood that mindset, at least not in the way people usually frame it.
CHARON: A bad first time can set a strong impression but.. the idea that it has to be truly special or you've wasted it.. can't get behind it.
 

They nod, squeezing their eyes shut and massaging their temple.

MAES: It's...
MAES: It's highly unpleasant seeing this narrative when you've had a rough time of it.
MAES: Granted, the way I deal with it best is considering my first "real" time sleeping with someone being our first encounter with that...
MAES: But when I come face to face with this sort of mentality, it's so painfully obvious that I don't fit into the usual box.
MAES: Hell, I haven't even brought it up properly to you.
CHARON: Mm... it's honestly a setup for disappointment if you ask me.
 

He tries sitting down on the bed next to them.

CHARON: It's the same school of thought as first dates, first crushes... you don't tend to think about those a decade later in most cases.
 

They reach for his hand, their partner taking it..

MAES: Meanwhile, I get to get smacked with it and have it potentially ruin my day.
MAES: Even if I did somehow have a good time of it, some kind of situation outside of the underground lab, my situation is so atypical that I don't think I'd have had any way to talk about it.
MAES: It's...isolating, to have that kind of experience...
CHARON: You can talk about it with me.
MAES: ...I know.
MAES: I feel like I talk about this kind of thing too much, though, even if not that specific incident...
MAES: It's like I don't give you enough space to share.
CHARON: Don't think I'm the most exciting when it comes to this topic.
MAES: It doesn't have to be "exciting", it's you.
MAES: ...you don't have to share, obviously, just...
MAES: ...you have the option.
MAES: That's important to me.
CHARON: I can do that.. what would you want to hear about, then?
CHARON: Give me a good starting point.
MAES: Anything you'd want to talk about.
 

They extend an arm for him to cuddle up with.

He scoots in without hesitation.

CHARON: Mm... considering the topic at hand, I can admit my own experiences have been far from typical too.
MAES: In what way?
CHARON: Didn't really have any of the expected romantic experiences until I got my license to travel as a knight.
CHARON: Many of them were tied to flings, dating wasn't much of an option considering the nature of the work.
CHARON: Besides that, there were a few supernatural encounters here and there that may have had a few firsts come out of them?
 

They take a moment to take that in.

MAES: ...supernatural?
CHARON: Mmm…
MAES: Were they...safe?
 

Their expression is clearly concerned.

CHARON: ...Yes?
CHARON: Certainly wouldn't benefit from harming me.
MAES: Sorry for assuming, just-
MAES: I know you've had some rough times with that.
CHARON: It's an occupational hazard... less so here but in the past but... in these cases, I was generally safe.
MAES: Well...I'm up for hearing about them.
CHARON: If you're certain.
MAES: I am.
MAES: I...want to be more involved in that part of your life.
CHARON: Mm... have I introduced you to my proxy yet?
CHARON: It's helped out a few times during rough shifts but I don't know if you ever even noticed it... or how familiar you are with the concept for that matter.
MAES: Not yet, no...
MAES: I've done some reading here and there, but the concept admittedly goes over my head.
CHARON: They're a reflection of self to varying degrees, manifested in a more physical nature.
CHARON: Mine has a big of a complex situation going on admittedly…
MAES: And...this ties into your experiences with this?
CHARON: ....Mmm.
MAES: I may need some more elaboration.
CHARON: ...It was my first time kissing with tongue, for starters.
CHARON: Prompted one day, had me surprised...
MAES: With your proxy.
CHARON: Mm..
MAES: I did read that they could physically manifest, but-
MAES: I didn't know they could do that much.
MAES: Hm.
 

They don't sound offput, more...curious.

CHARON: It was just very affectionate that day.
CHARON: It was nice though, certainly understood me...
MAES: ...does it...have feelings about our relationship?
MAES: Is that a thing?
CHARON: I mean.. it's certainly curious about you.
CHARON: That's given.
MAES: Define curious.
CHARON: Would like to know you as well, perhaps shares some of my feelings.
MAES: ...is it a separate person?
CHARON: ...Complicated to answer.
MAES: I figured as much, but-
MAES: I don't...know if I'd be ready for a...second...paaaartner?
 

They’re clearly trying to phrase things carefully.

MAES: If it's its own person, I'd want to respect it as such- and I've never even met it.
CHARON: It's... comparable to a subconscious existing at the same time physically?
CHARON: But perhaps a bit more so?
CHARON: But our emotions are linked....
MAES: Ah!
MAES: Ah, okay, that's-
 

They seem to be visibly processing that.

MAES: Comparable to multiplicity experiences, then?
MAES: I've worked with a few clients like that.
CHARON: Yes.. albeit the proxy has more... direct forms of multiplicity?
MAES: I didn't realize that magic could do that, though I suppose it...makes...sense?
CHARON: Mm…
MAES: ...sorry if this-
MAES: I'm fine with this, really, just-
MAES: This is a lot of new- and really important- information, and I want to make sure I don't screw up.
CHARON: You're doing fine.
MAES: ...does it have a name?
CHARON: Collectively?
CHARON: Rook.
CHARON: Individually... work in progress.
MAES: And...it shares your emotions.
MAES: Including those towards me?
CHARON: To varying degrees, yes.
MAES: Going to need more elaboration on that as well.
CHARON: What we share, we share to various degrees.
CHARON: Sometimes equally strong, sometimes one more intensive than the others.
MAES: So-
MAES: Do any of them feel..."intensive" towards me?
CHARON: A couple for certain.
CHARON: All of them at the very least value you and your company.
MAES: Do they experience the same things as you, then?
MAES: So-
 

They can't help but blush.

MAES: ...I was not aware we had an audience.
CHARON: You don't sound upset by that.
MAES: Not as much as I probably expected to be.
CHARON: Would you... perhaps like to meet them?
MAES: Yes, I think so.
MAES: If they'd like to.
CHARON: In that case-
 

The proxy materializes, flopping onto the bed with that confirmation.

MAES: ...Charon? Did-
MAES: Is this Rook?
CHARON: Mmmhmm..
 

The proxy moves in, aiming to touch noses.

Maes does their best not to startle them.

MAES: H-hello.
 

It makes a light noise in response, unintelligible as any sort of words- but clearly replying.

Maes stays very still, clearly unsure how to react to this situation.

MAES: It's...good to meet you.
CHARON: Think it'd like to hug you.
CHARON: Would you be okay with that?
MAES: We can try that.
 

They pause before opening up their arms.The proxy snuggles up, familiar in feeling…but perhaps a bit more high energy than Charon.

MAES: Oh, you're- you're wiggly, hah…
 

They aren't sure where to put their hands at first, resting one on its back, and the other on its neck.

CHARON: You don't have to be shy.
MAES: Getting used to the fact that it feels like you...
CHARON: In a way it is me, sometimes.
MAES: Is it you right now?
CHARON: To some degree?
CHARON: Complicated.
CHARON: It can act on its own but there's plenty of back and forth going on internally.
CHARON: A difficult feeling to explain…
MAES: It's alright...we can figure it out over time...
MAES: ...but...hmmm…
 

The proxy tests the waters by lightly pressing its face against their cheek.

Maes returns it, surprised at how natural it feels.

MAES: It really is affectionate…
CHARON: This one especially is, yes…
MAES: No name, you said?
MAES: How do you differentiate it?
CHARON: Appearance, they're all distinct.
MAES: And this one?
CHARON: What do you mean?
MAES: What does it resemble?
CHARON: ...Ghost dog?
MAES: Hmm…

They dare to give it another little nuzzle, initiating it this time.

It returns it, pressing its face up to theirs. It’s dangerously close to a kiss at this point, the karacel's breath hitching.

The proxy tries pressing its mouth to theirs- just a little- despite having its face covered.

Maes dares to kiss back just as lightly, as if testing the waters.

Rook starts lifting its mask, as if offering.

MAES: Is...this okay with you, Charon?
CHARON: You're more than allowed.
MAES: Let's try, then…
 

They go for it- the proxy returns it in kind, starting the kiss with a bit of tongue.

MAES: Mmm...
 

Maes gives it a try in turn, taking it all in- only pausing to give it a pat on the head. It seems to soften its approach, going for a very gentle nuzzle of the shoulder in response.

The pat turns into a careful petting, Maes making a soft hum.

Rook kicks things up a notch, the whole experience not too far off in feeling from their usual partner.

They cup the sides of the proxy's face, intensifying the kiss on their own end before carefully pulling away.

CHARON: Boss?
MAES: That's...it's hard to explain.
CHARON: ...Are you okay after that?
MAES: Yes, just-
 

Their face is covered in blush.

MAES: Need to breathe for a moment.
MAES: I'm guessing this is the one that kissed you?
CHARON: How can you tell?
MAES: It...definitely went for tongue.
CHARON: It's really an extension of what we have I suppose.
MAES: Is it weird for you to see it happen?
CHARON: I can feel it a bit, actually…
MAES: I suppose I'll have to get used to two bodies in the same bed with me at night…
CHARON: Doesn't always need to be out, but we'd appreciate it if you didn't mind it roaming around from time to time.
MAES: As long as I'm given some heads up, we can try it.
CHARON: Mm... I'll try to ask it not to bump into you too much.
CHARON: Might be hard to tell where it is since it... floats.
MAES: ...ah.
MAES: I'm...definitely going to need to adjust to that.
CHARON: Mm.
CHARON: Completely silent while moving around, jumpscares me even now.
 

Maes turns to the proxy again.

MAES: Is there any way you could make yourself known a little more when you're out?
 

There’s a tiny squeak.

CHARON: Yeah, that's probably a good call…
MAES: Thank you for understanding, Rook…
 

They give it another pat on the head. It goes for a tiny "kiss" on their nose again in turn.

Maes lets out a soft purr at that, nuzzling up to it.

MAES: ...thank you, for talking to me about this sort of thing, Charon.
MAES: I know it started with a rough topic, but...I learned a lot about you- and Rook.
CHARON: We do our best.
MAES: I know you do.
MAES: ...and thank you for trusting me.
CHARON: You've trusted me just as much.
MAES: And I'll continue to do so...with all of you.