[SIDESTORY] Morbit Oneshots

[A_Mi_Manera]

Dopple Effect: Pilot
CW: Mention of Death and Dying.
 

---

You sit with your boss in the make up room. She watches you intensely, every motion and detail, until you're both indistinguishable. You are Mori, her right hand demon, body double, and the island's best paladin should the darkest of times come. She nudges your posture as you work away on your face.

"Are you sure that's right? Not a single freckle or eyebrow can be off for this."

"I've been doing this job for a long time Lily. I have it down to a science."

"You do Mori, that's the right answer." 

"It's what you pay me for, right? I'm good for it when I need to."

You apply your eye contacts one at a time. No matter how much you've done this, placing those tiny curved plastic bits feels awful. You grit your teeth at the initial sensation.

"You alright?"

"I'll be fine by showtime. Permission to raise a concern?"

"Permission granted."

"You want me to sub in to talk to your old friend from god knows how long ago."

"Correct."

"That seems... I don't want to speak out this way but..."

"Your opinion matters, I won't be upset."

"They're expecting you, right? Seems a tad on the more personal end of things."

"Mm. Normally I'd go myself but Apollo insists on something big happening. I can't leave a high god waiting."

"You couldn't reschedule?"

"Both of these are time sensitive. If Apollo has a genuinely important discovery that requires me to appear personally, I have to prioritize it. I'm confident in you however."

"Oh?"

"You're one of the most capable people I know and I trust you with almost any job at this point... and perhaps I consider you a good friend too. I don't have too many of those these days."

You try to keep your composure at your boss dropping a big compliment like that. 

"Ah? Well... thank you."

She gives you the slightest smile, showing just the tiniest amount of teeth.

"Your posture's off."

"It's not."

"Good, I was testing you."

"You know you can't pull that, I know you almost as much as you do."

"Mmhmm! Your cab should be outside very soon. I know you'll do as good as always."

You can't help but smile back, mirroring hers as best as possible. She's still testing.

On the way out, you find the weather a bit on the wetter side. You shuffle into the cab as quickly as you can, not wanting to ruin all the hard work you did for your cover. The driver is one of your Boss' regular picks. He's not particularly talkative, but you consider that a little blessing on days where nerves are on the higher end. 

You arrive at the place, a little cottage just outside of the nearest town. There is no bell at the front door of any sort, just a simple somewhat heavy looking knocker. You hit it against the entrance, just enough to let the noise boom and echo through the place but hopefully not enough to startle your "friend." 

"One moment!"

He fumbles toward the door, it's a little concerning.

"Edmund, are you alright?"

"I'm pacing myself, you're earlier than I'm used to!"

"Oh? And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just a bit surprising is all! Just give me a sec!"

He struggles a bit with the door. You prepare to meet him with a warm grin. It creeks open and his head pops out. 

It's a bat, somewhat older and rather roughed up too. Held together by a worrying amount of bandages stained in black and a metal contraption practically supporting everything that isn't. Your smile weakens the slightest as he tries to meet yours. He's clearly not in the best condition.  You weren't told he'd be halfway to death

"Edmund."

"Mm?" His face goes from absolute sun to a slight dip. "Are you alright?"

You try to compose yourself.

"Of course just... can we scoot inside?"

"Mm, no point in leaving you in the cold longer than I need to. Hurry up then."

He tries to play down the extend of his condition by keeping his head up as you're escorted toward the cozy little fireplace setup he's managed, but you know it's taking a lot out of him to maintain the facade. 

"I'm sorry you had to go all the way out here, but I'd rather not be around all the bustle of the city right now. Like to appreciate the sounds of the season without cars and jeers through the day."

"I absolutely understand, is there anything I can help you with while I'm here?"

"You've done plenty by showing up, I wanted to see a friendly face or two before my next treatment."

"...Oh? Please talk to me?"

"About what, doctors? Not today if I can help it. For now all I'd like is a little relax and reminder. Like the days of the farm, you remember that?"

You don't.

"Mm? What about them now?"

"They were a whole lot of nothing but... I appreciate them for being where things started for me. Handling all those cows got me recommended for my first tour of service you know?"

He smirked just the slightest.

"Yes well.. before we ramble off, would you like me to get you something?" 

"I ate proper before you came, didn't want to be starving for this you know? So how've things been lately?"

"Busy, dealing with Apollo's program for... aerospace is what they call it I believe. You familiar?"

"As in planes?"

"A little bit higher than that, could be revolutionary."

"Like the old thermal geyser powered signal thing yeah?"

"Mm! He still liked to believe he's onto something. One day, maybe."

"Yes well...."

He frowns.

"Something's off."

"I'm sorry, did I-"

"That's it right there. You're not her. A little too polite. I remember you being a sailor mouth."

"Shit, no I'm just out of it-"

"That was a test, folks know about the doppelgangers doing appearances. She'd never swear like that."

You freeze hard in place. Your breathing hurts.

"It's alright, I'm not mad at you for trying you know... just disappointed in her. She knew this may as well be our last chance of this you know? Our old dumb banter sessions. Why she decided not to make it this time is beyond me but... I dunno. Speak your mind a bit, you deserve to too."

"Off the record?"

"Absolutely off the record. You got a right."

"She did't tell me how important this was, I'd never do this if I knew."

"It wasn't important, that's why she didn't come herself. I know gods are supposed to be all busy with fancy world changing works but I never made her out for a coward you know" There's a mockery of a cackle coming from every word of his. "I hate it really, one of those sharp gutting sensations. Type that feels like you're gonna die. Of course it's a awfully high chance that isn't just a feeling."

You're wheezing under pressure.

"Ah.... I'm sorry I didn't consider you'd freak. Let me get you something" He tries to rise from his seat.

"No! No, you don't need to get up for me. You don't need to do anything for me."

"You know what? No, you're my guest. You made the effort to dress up, to take the long trip, to try to spare my feelings because she couldn't bother. What's your name?"

You find room to respond between pained breaths. "Mori."

"That's good. Mori. You having a panic attack?"

You nod.

He tries to shoulder you up, you aren't able to really stop him right now. 

"I'm gonna get you some air, that okay?"

"You're hurt."

He walks you toward the entrance. "You can't do much about that. I can help you though. Just a tiny bit of heavy lifting."

"What did it?"

"Doesn't matter right now."

He manages to get you outside and leans you against the wall. The cold, fresh air spins your brain. It stings at first as the pace of your breathing shifts hard. He tries to talk you through this. 

"So you're a body double yeah?"

"Mm."

"Never met me?"

"No."

"Any others like you?"

"No."

"She pay you good for this?"

"I... really don't want to answer that."

"Good, you have a good head on you. If she isn't though uh... say something."

"Stop talking to me like that, I'm older than you."

"...Are you? Shoot, what?"

"I haven't aged in decades. Occupational hazard"

"Ah, you're a demon then."

"Mm."

You gather your bearings. 

"Thank you.

"It's nothing, you'd do the same I'm sure. You get those often?"

You shake your head. "Not like that. Had a bad gut feeling over this whole thing, didn't really want to put you through this but she said it'd be alright so... I gauged badly."

"Don't worry about it."

"Question... does anyone else visit?"

"Some folks of mine show up to check up a few times a day, the doctor, a few friends but I could do with a few more."

"Could I be the few more here?"

"Because you want to or because you feel like you owe me?"

"Both. You didn't need to do anything for me but It was... nice."

"You can hop on by anytime... just don't dress like that if you can help it yeah? Come as you next time."

"I'd appreciate it too if I could stay a little longer, I can't do you poor by freaking out and bailing."

"You stick around, you handle the kettle. You mind?" He held out his wrapped hands. "Kind of roughed up, not doing my best today either if you don't mind. You going to be alright to pitch coffee?"

"Yeah...."

"...And honestly, I don't want you getting in trouble so unless she shows her face I won't scream. Go home and say things went fine when you're done here... just visit again. Don't offer me something and not go through with it. Gets boring so anything helps."

"Easy... appreciated."

"Yeah. Now scoot back in fast alright? Cold out here."

You spend another hour here today. You made as much good on your word as you could and came back more than once. 

You had to hold your tongue from yelling at your boss longer than you had any right to. 

You pray she'd make good on things sometime. Maybe. You pray your new friend gets better so he can yell at her himself. 

[A_Mi_Manera]

Mori Plays a Visual Novel
a Dopple Effect one shot
 

---

You're Mori. You've settled for the evening at a bulky computer desk setup in your office. You're glad you invested in a nice leather seat, the old one destroyed your back. You hear a knock on the door.

Mori: Who's there?
"Just me, wanted to check up on you."

You pull the slop of hair over your face back a little and adjust your posture. You weren't ready for any visitors but you can at least try to play off the fact that you're practically in pajamas. 

Mori: Come on in.

It's Papaya, a long time coworker and resident bastard robot. Maybe not a bastard but bastard-esque on occasion.

Mori: The lights were off, how did you know?
Papaya: Nobody saw you leave the building, people notice. You alright?
Mori: I'm just doing some late night work. Keeping lists. 

Papaya: What you got there?
Mori: A computer game, one from a flea market. After some prompting and discussion I've gone and made the call to archive these too so I purchased a lot of older ones that'd be taken off inventory soon.
Papaya: And you're playing it?
Mori: I mean yes? I want to have proper notes and labels ready on each of these. Archiving it just as "PC Software" isn't very appealing.
Papaya: Huh....

They watch you play a bit.

Papaya: Think I know these, it's one of those things where you learn pick up lines yeah?
Mori: ...That's a bit of a over-simplification.
Papaya: I mean you've been pretty friendly with everyone, a little more than just chums.
Mori: That's part of the game, yes. 
Papaya: Like, that guy over there. He brought you flowers.
Mori: Yes. 
Papaya: And... you know that's... 
Mori: He's a florist, that's his thing. 
Papaya: And... he's inviting you out on a date?
Mori: To the beach. It's a slow burn.
Papaya: You're too good for him, decline.
Mori: Under most circumstances you're absolutely right but... for the sake of immersion I'll humor it for a playthrough.
Papaya: So is this your first time playing one of these or...
Mori: I played a few of others from the bundle I bought. They're.... incredibly varying in quality.
Papaya: Bad?
Mori: More than often but... a few stand out. Like.... hold for a minute...

You shuffle through and grab a couple of game cases.

Mori: This one right here resonated emotionally a little which... is funny to think about.
Papaya: The video game.
Mori: Mm. 
Papaya: Really? How?
Mori: It's hard to pin down... they're goofy little things on paper but something about all the litte dialogue prompts, the setting, even if it wasn't the most high budget.... at some point it felt like the author's voice came through. The little town and the people all seemed to come from someone's own experience. There was a conversation that stuck but um.... 
Papaya: Yeah?
Mori: I'm trying to remember it quote for quote so I don't paraphrase it but... I don't think I want to rob it of its context too much. This other one too seemed... wish fulfillment isn't the word.

You slide a case over. 

Papaya: Escapism?
Mori: More of a snapshot of someone's youth really. The farm town setting was so warm and had that filter you get from the late afternoon. This one wasn't based on romances at all, a few of them weren't or really barely put it in the spotlight.
Papaya: Yeah? I mean I guess it'd be boring if they were all like that huh?
Mori: Mm. Even the ones that were... a lot of these seem to be focused on bringing stories to others which is odd but... there's something admirable. There's a vunerability and it makes me feel a connection to someone I'll never likely meet.

They seem to have a little trouble making out much of it.

Papaya: I mean I sure? Maybe. Don't think a game would be the best way to do that though right? Like, how?
Mori: Mm.. it's strange to explain and I think you'd be best trying one yourself if.... it's better without spoilers but..
Papaya: Spit it out.

You flip through the pile and try to muster the confidence to pick any of these.

Mori: Would you be interested in trying? I think I might've witnessed a sort of stepping stone. The caveman drawings to a modern painting, something that takes new experimental types of media toward something bigger and much more widely appreciated. 
Papaya: Eh.... I'm not all that tech savvy. Can't figure out the installation for a lot of these things.
Mori: You're joking.

They look at you with their dead ass cold robot eyes.

Papaya: No I'm pretty bad actually. Like, call in the tech support level bad.
Mori: You're literally sentient tech. You have internet access on the fly. 
Papaya: Yeah well.... some fish can't swim.

That's true.

Mori: I could help you? It wouldn't really be that hard.
Papaya: I mean... sure? Can't be too bad right?
Mori: Take this then.

They pause and take a look at the little screen captures on the back of the box.

Papaya: Huh... is it the game you're playing?
Mori: No? Why?
Papaya: Some of the pop-ups look almost the same yeah?
Mori: Mm, they may be running off the same systems. Reminds me of those bases that sometimes get popular in mod culture, could be something similar. 
Papaya: Could be... hey, when are you finishing up?
Mori: Honestly... I'm probably going to just stay the night. I'll have alarms for tomorrow.
Papaya: You're not going home to sleep?
Mori: I'm already dressed for bed. 
Papaya: You should really take care of yourself, godhood or not. Go flop in the infirmary and I'll be hanging around and wake you up before the early birds show up. 
Mori: That's.. appreciated actually. Are you going to be fine for that?
Papaya: Yeah please, I don't gotta sleep like you do. 
Mori: Give me an hour.
Papaya: Take your time.

[A_Mi_Manera]

The Guild

A Charon /PCA Story

---

You shuffle toward the front desk of a large and warm main hall with forms and documents in hand. You're Charon Judgment, a knight on the rise and successor to one of the longest running family lines to do such service for Taverne. It doesn't mean much though without the funds to maintain it, and when you're in a new town you sure need work fast. You organized yourself.

Charon: I found a job offering I'd like to participate in, registration for one if you would.

The clerk barely acknowledges you. You scan their person for a conversational prompt, a pin with the name Trevor on it.

Charon: Trevor yes?

"I'm not Trevor, this is a loaner uniform."

Charon: Pardon then, could I get some assistance with this?

"Nothin' against you, but you're not verified in this local guild and I was tipped off not to let you proceed until you talk to management. It's just part of the routine, likes to see how folks do under tension. You... get maybe a B from me. "

Charon: Management?

"Yep. Over there. I'm sure it's nothin' too particular. Likes to meet newcomers himself."

She shifts her eye and nudges you in the direction of a rather well decorated knight at the table. Demonares.  He's adorned in proof of many struggles despite not looking all that older than you, and his entire person has a tinge of slight, deliberately unkempt. 

Charon: You're assistance is greatly appreciated. 

"You can show it by writing a positive review you know. Benefits me a ton. Not too much right?"

Everyone has to make a living somehow.

Charon: Mm, certainly. Name?

"Pox. If you stick with this guild you're going to see me a ton. Don't be a dick and you'll be fine."

You fill out the form and slide it to her. 

Charon: Would that be all?

Pox: Yep. You're passing so far if you're wondering, so don't worry too much. Go face your fate, kid. 

Charon: Thank you, I appreciate the confid-

She starts shooing you away. You adjust your posture and groom the tuft on your chest as you approach the knight.

Charon: Pardon.

"Pardon acknowledged, what business does a knight have in a knight's guild today?" He smirks at you. He's expecting a laugh. You give him the pity smile. 

Charon: I'm here to give my formal introductions as a newcomer, I see you like to screen your guests.

He rocks his head back and forth in thought.

"Guess so, wouldn't be real good to not greet and verify with the fresh blood right? I'm Hudson McHash, third generation. I'm sure it's nothing that fancy compared to... can I get a look a that fancy little mark of yours?"

You flash your insignia, a red and blue patchwork heart.

Hudson: Shoot, that's some vintage emblem work. Bit on the rough and simple side but I guess you folks have a little more to worry about than modern presentation.

Charon: We stick close to our roots.

Hudson: Course you do, folks haven't shut up between this and that dog. You taking after the one that vanished in Solitude or the one that shoots the gun?

Charon: Never met the former firsthand and the latter-

Hudson: Hold up, you never met them?

Charon: No.

Hudson: Any relation?

Charon: Mm, admittedly I'm not too sure on the details. I respected their work but have no strong feelings either way.

Hudson: Guessing you didn't get their blessing on taking the title then. 

Charon: No, never met them face to face in general.

Hudson: So... you got it from the other one then yeah? The old Clint type?

Charon: ...No. 

Hudson: So why are you off wearing that title then if nobody's gone and given it to you? I mean...

He looks up and down at you, taking a pause at your old exposed prosthetic. 

Hudson: I guess you're on the more raggedy side of things but.... that's a dog thing right? Kind of expected? Other one didn't have trouble though so who knows.

Charon: I don't see what being a dog has to do with anything.

Hudson: I mean... I hear you folks are mutts really more than anything. Glowing red eyes, coughing up silks, seem to make contact with horror just fine too. You got a few things I haven't seen before too. Tail's looking like a ceramic hack job. Tell me about your mom and pop. Which one got all cozy and settled down with a monstrosity huh? Or maybe it's the grandma who did it too-

You jab him full force, his rock hard face shifts just the slightest. There's a tense pause as you watch his eyes slow boil as he processes it before mad dogging you.
 
Charon: You don't. You don't drag her into this. 

Hudson: You about to pick a fight like that?

Charon: I'm about to let you pick a casket. 

Hudson: You'll be shunned from this guild.

Charon: Mm. I imagine so.

Hudson: Blacklisted across the region.

Charon: More people to see your obituary. 

Hudson: That's outright a threat.

Charon: Neigh, just a prompt.

Hudson: A prompt for?

Charon: To reflect on whether you're still in your god's good graces, lest you not care for heaven. 

He pulls his face back. 

Hudson: You stand by that? You're willing to go down over a remark against your kin?

Charon: Mm. 

He pulls a notebook out from his pocket and scribbles. Your body is still tense. You hold back from saying anything while you're still headed.

Hudson: You hit like a toddler, you're a little on the scrappy side, and you dress like a dead rockstar. You stood your ground, you didn't hesitate for a moment when someone crossed the line, and you didn't back off when threatened with exile. You're promising. I'm giving you a 87, could've gone higher if you landed that punch better. 

Charon:... Pardon but... was this scripted?

Hudson: Ehhh...  only a bit. Mandatory for anyone who wants to work at this guild. Didn't wanna go so hard but... when you're part of a prestigious line like yours... can't really go easy right? You know we got scores for a few of your folks? You're in the middle actually I think. Pox should have a copy of the records filed. Wanna take a look? 

Charon: I suppose I wouldn't hurt...

Hudson: Oh shoot and... I didn't mean any of that as a note. I know it's kind of intensive

Pox chimes in from across the room.

Pox: He's made people breakdown!

Hudson: It's a test of character! 

Pox: We have to have a therapist in office now!

You turn your face toward Hudson and grimace.

Hudson: ...Yeah we do. Bright side is you got access to cheap mental health services while you're here so take advantage. 

He shifts over to the desk.

Hudson: Pox?

She gives him a look as she hands over the records. He tries not to make eye contact and turns his attention toward the files.


Hudson: Ali Judgment, 85. Bucket Judgment, 79. Durante "The Deem" Judgment 91, Erica Judgment, 94. And now you, Charon Judgment, at a nice 87. 

Charon: ...I suppose I can't complain but... are you certain about...

Hudson: Them? Yeah you'd be surprised. Started off awful timid supposedly, my pop initiated them. Take pride in a little victory like this.. but also work on your arm a bit yeah? For a guy with robot arms you punch like a baby. 

Charon: Mm... And I take this means I'm welcome here?

Hudson: Course' you are. Tell me kid, you like pasta?

Charon: I'm never opposed to pasta.

Hudson: Break is starting soon-ish, join us in the Mess Hall once you're done registering what you gotta. Sound good?

Charon: ... Mm. I'll strongly consider this invitation. And possibly your therapy services.

[skinstealer]

---

Sick Day- 2019
Ringor Mortis, Punch Clock Animal/General Morbit
Content Warnings:

Show Content

SpoilerSexual abuse implications (nothing explicit), torture mentions, mind control implications

Bucket and Chelsea spend a day sick in bed.

---

It was a cold winter day in Solitude, snow falling and starting to lightly cover the ground. Chelsea couldn’t help but feel intimidated as she approached the manor doors, Spit having dumped her at the entrance without slowing down the truck. Both she and Rein had business to attend to outside of their zones, and as usual, Chelsea was to be left here with Bucket...this time, for the first time in a long while, completely alone. Aside from the attendants, anyway- but they always made themselves scarce with Chelsea around anyway. 

The halls seemed particularly empty as she walked, unable to keep herself from grimacing at the lavish decor. No amount of busts and paintings were enough for that serpentine bastard, and the idea of Bucket having to see its face no matter where they went made her feel even sicker than she already was. Spit didn’t seem to care that she had come down with something, but that came as no surprise to the demon. 

After god knows how much wandering, Chelsea finally managed to flag down an attendant and ask where Bucket was, trying not to look as unsettled by their bindings. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach as the attendant told her that Bucket was in the quarters where they stayed with Rein- not Rein’s quarters, no, that was specifically for it. The fact that Bucket had a room where it could visit them whenever it pleased, whenever it demanded-

No. There’s no time for that. Just...focus on visiting Bucket.

Chelsea tapped her claws on the door, getting no response- Bucket had sunken deeply into the center mass of the python sized bed inside, and had no intention of getting up for any kind of attendant knocking at the door. 

The karacel poked her head into the room, wobbling a little and doing her best to keep her voice even. "...Bucket, you in here?"

They made a vague sound in response, head buried in a pillow.

Chelsea covered her mouth as she walked in, trying not to cough. "Are you okay...? You didn't come greet me at the door- n-not that you have to, of course..."

She was startled to hear that Bucket's voice was just as hoarse as her own, if not moreso. "It appears a bug has spread across the area in general... I'm taking a day off. Join me?"

"You too?" She sat on the edge of the bed, looking more flushed than usual. "Something's going around Spit's base..."

"It is around the time of flu season, yes?"

"I wouldn't know, I have a hard time keeping track of time even when I'm relatively healthy."

"Are you worried?"

"I'm always worried Bucket, how much depends on what you're asking about."

"Are you worried Spit has spread a plague?"

Chelsea snorted, not humorously at all. "If Spit made a plague, it'd be nastier than a cough and fever."

"That is true, it doesn't read as anything more than a few sanitary mistakes."

"Probably just some sacrifice brought in with a bad case of the flu-" She paled, realizing the bluntness of what she just said. "Sorry, you- you don't need to hear about that."

"I know about Spit's more... unfortunate habits.  I assure you, I'm not bothered by you addressing the possibility."

"I don't want you thinking of that when you look at me, though."

"It has never been the first thing to come up."

"What is, then?"

"A reminder that I do have a trustworthy person in my life."

The pink returned to Chelsea's face just as quickly as it left, this time not because of the flu. "You're giving me too much credit."

"I mean what I say."

"When it comes to words that describe me, trustworthy isn't that high up there."

"You're the one I'd apply it to most."

She frowned, unable to wrap her head around it. "And what if this...this kind of calm we have, being gentle like this...what if it goes away every time I step back out the door?"

"What do you mean?"

"As soon as I leave here, I have to go back to Spit, and being her..." She struggled for a word, everything sounding horrible and crude in her head.

"I don't think you any worse for it."

"You would if you saw the blood on my hands in person."

"I am a knight, I cannot judge others for the bloodshed required of a job."

"How many people do you have to torture out on the job, then?"

"Chelsea..."

"...sorry. Too far."

They sighed and made room on the bed, patting the space beside them. "Please come join me and rest."

Chelsea laid herself down and scooted over, still awkward and uncomfortable after her last quip.

"If something is bothering you lately, we can talk. I care about you and... I do not wish for you to feel bad."

"I don't want you to have to play therapist for me, let alone when you're sick."

"We're taking care of each other."

"All I'm doing is just...being here."

"We're resting."

"I want to do more for you than that!" Chelsea sat upright, startled by her own outburst. "I mean. If there is anything that'd help you. If you wanted."

"You do enough...Can I try something?"

"Go ahead."

Bucket nuzzled up to her, getting comfortable. "Is this okay?"

Chelsea nodded, looking like she was going to combust and feeling just as heated. "I, ah...yes. Yes, this is okay. Yeah."

They leaned in toward her cheek. "Do tell me if it's too much."

"No, I- this is good."

Their mouth got a little close.

Chelsea pulled away, only to sneeze. "Shit, sorry-"

"It's alright." Bucket couldn't help but worry as Chelsea wiped her nose, terrified that it was too much.

"Just-" Chelsea sneezed again, covering her face as best she could. "Sorry, I'm okay."

They reached for her hand. "You're alright."

"I'm gross is what I am...if you weren't sick already I'd advise you stay back."

"I'm not afraid... you know I do have a knight's trick for checking health."

"Go ahead, though I can guarantee the results are gonna be worrying."

"It requires a bit of direct contact. It's a rather old timey trick." They leaned in. "If you would..."

Hold on, hold on a sec-

"...are you asking for a kiss?"

"It's a legitimate method... though I would not be opposed."

"I mean...are you sure? I'm not even- I'm not good at kissing and what if Rein finds out and-"

"Rein isn't around and... if I'm honest, I think it's messing with my head...."

"Wait, what?" Her brow furrowed, all thoughts of kissing Bucket replaced with worry and the slightest tinge of anger. "Messing with your head how?"

"It's hard to say, I do not know how but... I feel lighter around it. I do not want to accuse it of anything, I don't think it ever would do something but.... part of me wonders if that's my own thought."

"Lighter, as in, happier lighter?"

"Maybe? It's not normal happy..."

"You know my opinion of Rein- I don't want to pretend there isn't bias, though."

"Can.... Can Rein do something like that though? Am I paranoid?"

"..." Chelsea sighed hard. "You called me trustworthy earlier, but...I haven't been upfront with you about what Rein can do. What I've seen it do."

"Tell me."

"I've seen it talk Spit down from her rage fits, using only its voice...I just...never thought- I never hoped it'd use that on you."

"....Has it done so?"

"I don't know."

"Would it?"

"...."

"Chelsea?"

"You know I don't trust it."

"I want to confront it but... what if it isn't? What if I hurt its feelings? What if it did but convinces me otherwise anyway?"

"Why care about its feelings if it's controlling you?"

Shit, don't let the bias show too much.

They frowned, clearly left worried over this entire possible situation. "Is it? Would it really do that to me?"

"Gods'll do anything to get their goals...even the nice looking ones." She avoided eye contact. "I'm sorry."

"But what would it want with me?"

"I don't know the situation well enough to say. I mean...I know I kind of avoid talking about Rein. Ever."

 "We're talking about it now."

"Because you need it, and because if I shoved it away for my own stupid reasons I'd be even more selfish than I already am."

"Please don't ever fear speaking your mind."

"Has it ever..." She shook her head. "It's...I don't even want to ask. I don't want it to treat you like Spit treats me, but...I have to know."

"It... never went out of its way to hurt me...."

"But it did hurt you, then."

"No but it all felt odd... it never seemed interested and then suddenly was and it seemed okay..."

"Seemed?"

"I don't know anymore..."

Chelsea shuffled a bit, unsure of how to comfort them, but desperately wanting to. Bucket needed her right now, even if she was scraggly and horrible-

"....Would it be too much to ask for a hug right now?"

"You're never too much." She leaned over and pulled them into the best embrace she could manage. "Never."

Bucket hugged her back, warm and inviting. "I'm glad we're alone for the day, I would not have mustered the courage to bring this up if either Rein or Spit were around.... I do worry I may have dropped a burden on your mind."

"I mean...it worries me, of course it does. I wish I was more surprised than I am, but I've been in this job too long for that. I just hoped I was wrong."

"You can always bring up your concerns... I wish you did earlier but I'm glad to know now they may not be invalid worries."

"I thought it was just my biases talking, that maybe you were happy with it and I was just. Jealous."

"Do you still feel that way?"

She tried to say something but nothing came out, settling for a nod instead.

They gave her a squeeze.

"Are you going to be okay, Bucket? After I'm gone, I mean."

They nodded. "I'll manage my best... I do want to take advantage of what time we have this visit as much as possible."

"We're both snotty messes, though. Can't exactly get up to much like this."

They nuzzled up. "If we're gross, we're gross and the world will have to bite the bullet."

"I haven't even had a shower yet, you're gonna get all greasy-" She couldn't help but smile all the same.

"I really don't mind."

She rested her head against their shoulder, trying to calm down her heartbeat. "If you say so."

"I mean it."

She shifted slightly, throat run dry. "And did you mean it about, uh...earlier?"

"Yes."

"With the kissing." Her voice got quieter with every word.

The dog leaned in. "If you would..."

She hesitated for just a moment before leaning in to meet their kiss. Bucket's tail went off, wagging hard enough for Chelsea to notice even before she pulled away.

"D-did I do alright?"

"You did perfect."

"T-thank you." She buried her face into their chest fluff, trying to hide how much blush had crept onto her face.

"I... like you a lot. It's been on my mind for too long."

She had to be dreaming this. There was no way this was happening. Nope.

"I just really hope this is okay."

Chelsea tried to snap out of her own thoughts and worries, stumbling over her words. "It's okay! It's very okay, just...it's...I'm...shit, give me a second."

"Need to take it in?"

She nodded, still hiding her face.

"Are you really so nervous?"

"Yyyeah. Yes."

"What would help you?"

"I'm just half convinced this is a fever dream, and I'm going to wake up back at Spit's."

"It's not a dream."

"If it isn't a dream, that's...honestly scarier, because I know I'm going to screw it all up. I'm not good at this, the only experience I have with anything remotely like this is a god fucking me up, not with someone gentle and strong and-" She exhaled hard.

"You're not going to mess anything up. We've known each other so long that frankly I couldn't see it."

"...it's dangerous for you, too. If Spit or Rein were to find out, they already hate how we're close enough as is..."

"I won't let them figure it out."

"You'd be risking everything you've worked for."

"I'd certainly still be in demand."

"Your reputation-"

"Will take more than Rein's slander to strike down."

Something in Chelsea boiled over, something raw and overwhelming. "I'm infamous, Bucket! I, I work with a cult, I'm one of the faces of it- you know I don't want to be, you know I want to get away from it desperately, to be seen as anything else- but I'm not. I torture and kill people, innocent people, because if I don't, the hellhound that put this collar on my neck will force my hand and do it for me, and I'm too much of a coward to fight against her anymore...I don't know how to win against someone who can stop my heart and twist my intestines whenever she cuts deep enough. And..."

She tried to catch her breath.

"I don't know if I'll ever get away from that. I don't think she'll ever let me...so I'm only going to get worse, to look more and more depraved to the outside world. That's what you'd be associating with, if you ever got found out. That's...that's what you'd be loving."

"If we are discovered, I have plenty to fall back on. If we are found, I do not regret taking part in this at all. Nay, I will commit to whatever fallout may come of this. Those without loyalties, principles, or any goal toward the bonds they've grown are cowards. I refuse to be one, especially not for how long you have stood with me. You are my dearest friend, my most trustworthy ally, the keeper of many of my secrets and thoughts I share not with the rest of the world. Should you accept me, I refuse to stand down from this regardless of whom I must twist my blade into in order to keep us both safe. One day they will know, and until then we try to keep our heads down.. but when that time comes I will stand by this against all odds."

Chelsea couldn't help but sniffle.

"I mean all of it."

"I-it's so much to wrap my head around..." She was struggling to keep her voice even, claws digging just the slightest bit into Bucket's back.

Bucket pulled her in for another kiss, more bold now. Chelsea didn't hesitate this time, squeezing her closest friend tight.

The dog pulled back away and smiled through all the sick and gross between the two of them. "Do not think too hard about it. This is real... and I'm glad it is."

In that moment, Chelsea had never felt more grateful for a sick day.

[A_Mi_Manera]

Comfort Food - a Crankshaft Short Story
 

---

Your friend gives your plate a intense look.

The potato effigy in front of you exhausts a warmth akin to the flesh and blood you're made of. For most this would be deemed a food crime, but for you it's precious hearty material for your bruised and tired body. You sparred, you got whooped. You need it, and she has to watch you munch away until you're done, much to her dismay. 

Lex: I feel like I could've done better you know? Like... I dunno. I get drained too easy. My footwork is good, I can grapple alright but... I get tired easy. Don't think I could ever go the distance for a win on technicality. You get me?

Dotty: You're also doing a round robin event, nobody does round robins outside of little local circuits you know. It's bad for you to do four fights back to back like that.  

Lex: Like... I guess. Always look forward to doing brunch with you after though. Makes it easier to get through. I used to choke and bail early a lot of the time you know?

Dotty: You never told me that.

Lex: Eh... I didn't want to look like a weenie around you. 

You poke down at the potato mass with your fork. 

Lex: You're good at fighting. I wanna be on your level one day.

She tries to cover up a smile but you notice. 

Dotty: Yes well.... Duels aren't just about fighting, Not really at their core at all... it's about being flexible. Good at many, many things and having the guts to go through with it. 

Lex: I guess.  

Dotty: You should probably take next week off of going though, neglected wear and tear will retire you early.  I'll show you some tricks for that. I mean, if you don't mind skipping out.

Lex: It doesn't hurt much...

Dotty: Playing tough also isn't good you know. Tapping out when you think things are going too far is important.  Besides, you seem cool for it.

Lex: Yeah... I might take that up I think. 

You take another mouthful of mash.

Dotty: So uh.... how is it? The... thing.

Lex: The potato?

Dotty: Is that what it's supposed to be?

Lex: Yeah! What'd you think it was?

Dotty: Not food. 

Lex: I've been eating it for like, the past 5 minutes.

Dotty: I thought it was one of your old witch things.

Lex: I mean.... I guess it kinda looks like it huh? Don't do that anymore though. Weirdly uncanny coincidence. 

Dotty: I think you got the wrong order.

Lex: Nah. You know you should try it. 

Dotty: Eh.....

Lex: You need a different fork actually? I can get you one 

Dotty: No just.... it has a weird face.

You rotate the plate around.

Lex: Do it before it catches on. It's already worried that someone's plotting against it.

She snickers.

Dotty: Still can't unsee it. Might be pretending not to notice.

Lex: Give it a shot. It won't bite.

Dotty: Yeah well... what's in it for me? I'm about to take down this potato hommuculi. 

Lex: Uh.... you'd be doing the world a favor?

Dotty: Fuck the world, if this gives me food poisoning I want to know I died for something. Something real.

Lex: I'll hook you up with a shake, something smooth to down it after. 

Dotty: A real shake. None of that melted ice cream stuff.

Lex: Yeah. Easy.

Dotty: One that comes with a spoon.

Lex: Any size.... but

You hesitate.

Lex: But... you have to walk me home after too.  I'm a witness and I could be unsafe.

She shifts her eyes back and forth, pretending to weigh her options.

Dotty: Fuck it, I'm not a coward. 

You hand her your fork. She digs it in.

Lex: Big scoop or it doesn't count.

She gets a chunk full and works away at it. There seems to be a hesitance to swallow. 

You pat her shoulder to give her encouragement. 

She manages to down it.

Dotty: That's... way too salty. 

Lex: It's a bit of an acquired thing. You grow up on it.

Dotty: Yeah... I can tell.

Lex: You okay?

Dotty: If you grab me some dessert, I might just make it through the day. Maybe.

Lex: Can do.

Dotty: Get it to go... I kinda want to spend some time hanging around the boardwalk if you don't mind. Not ready to headback just yet.

Lex: Yeah! I mean, sure yeah.

[SHIVERS]

Lockout - 2020
Shivers, Patchwork Kernel
Content warnings: intrusive thoughts, anxiety, dissociation, parental neglect
13-year-old Juno tries to do some bonding.

---

---

---

Your hands are trembling.
You clench them, trying not to drop what you're holding.
You know how this is going to go.

You freeze up in the hallway and look down at the movie cases.
Maybe you could've picked better.
Maybe she won't be interested, or maybe she's just busy right now.

Doesn't matter. You already spent the money to rent them.
And this is the stuff she likes, you don't really care to watch them on your own.
Now or never.

You take a breath and head around the corner.
Her door is open. You can see her sitting in bed on her laptop. 
It's dark outside, so her little pink lamp is lighting up the entire room.
You hear some local weather report on her TV, and the bedside fan humming, pointed at her.
You step into the doorway and lightly tap on the doorframe, just to gently let her know you're there.

She doesn't look up. 
She usually didn't.
"H... Hey, so..." Your train of thought immediately derails.
"Uh..."
Find the words, already.
This isn't hard.
Literally all you have to do is ask her.
You already spent the money.
"So... I rented some movies. Three of 'em." You hold them up.
She doesn't look up.
"I... I think it's stuff I remember you saying you liked. You can pick whichever one looks best, o-or I could go get another one from the rental place."
She starts typing.
You idly stare at the TV, trying to give her time to respond.
Weather report. Hot again tomorrow. Hotter the rest of the week. 
It's always hot here.
She doesn't respond.

"W-We, um..."
Stop fucking stuttering.
You clear your throat, and try again.
"I know we haven't done much in a while, so... I figure it'd be good to... spend some time together." 
"...I miss... um..."
Don't say that.
You trail off.
She doesn't look up.

"...Mom?"
"Mm." She doesn't look at you.
"Did you... did you hear--"

You shut up as she sits up in a slight stretch, looking physically uncomfortable.
"Would you rub my shoulders?" She asks.


You're beyond confused.
But only for a moment.

Right.
She usually asks.
"Your brother won't do it anymore. You're better at it than he is, anyways."
She still doesn't look at you.
She usually doesn't look at you.

"I don't... really feel like it right now."
"Ugh." She says, sounding minorly inconvenienced; as if she'd just spilled her drink.



You start to back up and leave, but you realize how late it is.

You should say it. 
It's good to say it.
You've always said it.

You turn back to her.
"Goodnight. I hope you sleep good."
"Mm."


You hesitate.


"...Love you."


You wait.






Maybe she just didn't hear you.

It doesn't really matter if she says it, anyways.
She just hasn't said it in a long time.
But it's okay.
You know she loves you.
You know you matter to her.
That's enough.


That should be enough.



 

---

You finally leave, trudging around the corner into the dining room.
You drop the movies on the table, slump into one of the chairs, and stare at the floor.

You feel tired.

You feel numb.



You don't know how long you were staring.
It felt like no time had passed.
Her voice snaps you out of it, sounding legitimately distressed.
She's still in her room, probably on the phone.

"...worried sick!" 
She must've called Winter.

"You go out so late all the time and I just wait up for you, wondering where you are, if you're hurt or not!"
She's almost crying. 
She's almost never like this.
"...Are you at least coming home tonight? 
...Fine. Fine, then. 
If you're with them, then that's fine, but you need to tell me when you... 
...Fine."
You think she hung up.
You can hear her sniffling.

You stand, ready to run in and tell her that it's okay.
That Winter doesn't mean it. That he'll be okay.
And that you'll always be here with her. That you're not going anywhere.

But you stop.

That's it.
That's how.
Then she'd call, and you'd know for sure.

Can't do it yet. Not right this second. That'd look suspicious.

You get back to your room and let your phone charge for an hour or so.
Once the battery's topped up, you quietly head out of your room.
You look down the hall. Her light was still on.
It was only 11 PM. It's the weekend, so she'd be up for at least another couple of hours.

You open the back door and step out, then slam it behind you.
You know she heard that.
She'd complained at you and Winter too many times for slamming that door.
You make your way into the dirt alley behind your house and just start walking.
 

---

This is stupid.
You know how stupid this is.
She could get really really mad at you. You could get grounded for a week. Winter was older so he got special privelege and even he would probably get in trouble when he got home.
All to prove that she cares about you.
Of course she cares. She's going to call you and chew you out. Or you're going to make her cry, you jerk.


You just want her to call.

You won't do this again. Getting grounded is fine.
You just want her to show it.
And she will. She'll call.

Just need to kill some time.



You walk a bunch of laps along the park trail, then get bored.
You leave and just start walking down the road.
You've never been out this late before. You never do anything like this.
It's kind of fun, though.
...But also a little scary.
No one in this tiny town was ever out past midnight, and it had to be later than that by now.

You finally check the time.
It's 3:36 AM.


You stop.

Still no call.

But she had to be asleep by now.




Maybe she's just waiting at home.
Ready to chew you out.
You don't want to stay out any longer, anyways. She's probably worried sick.
 

---

You hurry back home.
Maybe her phone stopped working.

Down the back alley.
It looks like all the lights in the house are off.

Past your backyard.
Maybe she only has her lamp on.

Around to the backdoor. 
You turn the knob.


You try to turn the knob.

It won't budge.





It's locked.
















She locked you out.










You sit down under the carport, on the concrete.
You sit for a long, long time.





You could call her.
Or tap on her window to wake her up and let you in.



No, she'd be upset with you.
For waking her up.

You stand back up.
And head into the backyard.

It's fine.
You always leave the bathroom window unlocked.
After the last time.
When you came back from a friend's house. 
And this happened.

She forgot you, then, too. 
Or maybe it just didn't matter to her.
You climb back in through the window.
You slam your head on the bottom of the window in the process. 
It hurts, but you're too tired to worry about that.

You can just get some sleep.
You should've done that in the first place.

Once you're back in the house, you step out of the bathroom.
You see the movies you rented on the dining table, where you left them.






It's fine.



It was stupid of you.



You knew how this was all going to go.






You won't try again.

[SHIVERS]

Macaroon - 2020
Shivers, Patchwork Kernel
No content warnings.
Blink loses a bet.

---

---

---

Ravine stepped into the tiny hotel room kitchen and hopped onto the counter.
A bright green macaroon was in the ruffneck's paw, which promptly made its way towards her mouth.

"Oh, hey, uh," 
The dog looked up.
Juno was standing at the entrance to the kitchen.
"Ravine?"
She lowered the macaroon. 
"Need something?"
"Just, uh... I-I know it's silly, but... ...Well--"
"Juno, just tell me."
"C-Could I have your macaroon, if that'd be okay?"
She looked in their direction, not saying a word.
"I just... I had mine already, and it was actually really good. Y-You did a good job picking them out, and..." 
They swallowed nervously. "...well... I know it's--"
A metallic click was heard, and Juno looked down to see Ravine pointing her revolver in their direction.

"WoahWOAH h-hang on! I was only--"
"Knock it off."
"I... I'm sorry I asked, I-I just--"
"How stupid do you think I am?"
The gesabott stared back at her for a few seconds, then sighed.

A blurry fog enveloped them for just a moment, but soon faded; a snake corvice standing where Juno was before.
The corvice leaned against the opposite wall, and Ravine put her revolver away.

"The gun was a bit much, don't you think?"
"Safety's on." 
"Even so."

"You shouldn't use that so recklessly. Or disguise as any of us, for that matter. You're lucky I didn't--"
"Ohhh, come now! I needed the practice. Don't be such a poor sport."
"You're one to talk. Shouldn't have bet yours if you didn't want to lose it."
Blink folded their arms with a huff. 

"I had them."
"Mm."
"I was sure they were bluffing. I can tell these things."
"Uh-huh."
"In my line of work, I certainly can."
"Kind of makes you a bad spy, then."
They glared at her.
"Maybe we should have Pepper be our stealth expert from now on, since they beat you."
They scoffed. "Oh, please. That buffoon can't do what I do. You know you're lucky to have me."
"Mm."

"At any rate, what exactly gave me away? Surely it was something other than my performance. I felt I emulated Juno well enough."
"No, you didn't."
"I disagree."
"Well I've known them longer."
"Then what did I do wrong?"
"They don't stutter that much. They also wouldn't ask me for food, of all things; they barely eat in the first place. That, and I just know them a lot better than you do." She stopped to finally eat the sugary treat, a dismayed Blink looking on.
"...Also, I saw them leave to go give Pulse their macaroon just a bit ago."
"So you cheated, then?"
"...Sure."
"Why would they give it to--" They groaned and headed for the door. "I'll be back."
"Good luck with that."
Blink opened the door.
Ravine called after them. "And if you're mean to them, I'll shoot you."
They turned back. "Me? Mean?  Of course not."

 

---

"Sorry, but I'm going to have to confiscate those."
A karacel wearing a hotel uniform and nametag stood in front of Juno, who was looking particularly nervous.
"Wait, I'm just... still just a little confused why--"
"Your friend's payment didn't go through, so until we can get that figured out, I need to take them back."
"Oh. I'm reallyreally sorry about that. I'll just- I'll give them back, and then we can go talk to her, and I'm sure we'll... get this..." Juno's display showed squinting eyes.
"...figured out..." They cocked their head.
"...Oh come on, Blink, that's not funny! You scared me!"
The karacel's eyes widened, and a haze obscured them for an instant before Blink was revealed once again.
"How did you possibly see through that?"
"Your nametag. The guy that served us the macaroons was named Marion, not Maron."
"...I was close enough." 
"Plus, I know you love these." They shook the little clear plastic box they were holding, causing the two macaroons to slide around inside.
"I do, and I put a lot of effort into trying to get them... Which is exactly why you should give those to me--" They reached for the container, but Juno pulled it away. 
"Nooo. Why didn't you just ask me instead?"

"...You're right." The snake drooped their head down in mock-shame, placing their claws in their pockets. "I could have just asked politely." They put a claw on Juno's shoulder, still keeping their head down. "I'm very sorry, Juno." 
They lifted their head up, locking eyes with Juno. "So, may I please have the macaroons?"
"These? No."








"...Pardon?"

"I can't."
"And why is that?"
"They're not mine to give!"
"One of those is Pulse's, but you could give me yours, at least. It's the charitable  thing to do."

"Oh, neither of them are mine."
"...Then who does the second one belong to? "
"It's for Sasha."
The corvice scoffed and turned away. "...Sasha hardly counts as part of our group."
"Sure they do!"
"We've no room for hack doctors."
"They're not a hack!"
"I didn't see a medical degree on their wall last we visited."
"They weren't busy for once, so they offered to help with the research. We need all the help we can get, and they were nice enough to volunteer their free time, so be nice, okay?" 
Blink just grumbled.
"What happened to the one you got, anyways?" Juno asked.

Blink avoided eye contact. "...Lost it."
"How did-? Nevermind. ...If you really want one, then... you can have mine, I guess."
They turned back to Juno and clutched their chest melodramatically. "Oh, thank you Juno. You're a wonderful friend. Truly." 
Juno rolled their eyes. "Sure. You can just tell Pepper that--"
"Why does Pepper have it? "
"Oh, well, I gave it to them earlier. They asked for it. But I bet they'd--"
The corvice groaned, shoved their hands in their pockets and stormed off.
"What's wrong? I'm sure if you just explain..." Blink was already out of earshot.

 

---

Blink opened the door to the hotel room to find Pepper sitting in one of the cheap chairs nearby.
They had an orange macaroon in their paw, which they were idly looking over, with two more on the table.
"Oh, hey there Blink." They sported a tiny, wry smile.

"...Just one. That's all I ask."
Pepper lifted one of the macaroons. "Just one what?"
"Just--" Pepper unceremoniously ate it in a single bite.
"Hm?" They spoke as they munched.
Blink's gaze narrowed. "You won mine, fairly, and I... begrudgingly respect that. However, Juno has graciously decided to give theirs to me. So one of those macaroons you've got belongs to me."
"That's too bad, because I just ate Juno's." 
"You..." Pepper lifted the second to last, bright yellow macaroon. "Just a moment!"
Pepper stopped inches from their muzzle. "What's up? Somethin' wrong?"
"You know very well what's--" They moved the macaroon closer. "Nono, let me... build a case, at the very least. It's only fair!"
The pockitt leaned back with a smile. "I'm listening."

Blink cleared their throat. "You see... You won that macaroon from me, and that's fair, as I said. But Juno still wanted to give me one, and you have two left. Which one is which doesn't really matter, so you can still give me one of those, and you wouldn't lose anything in the process--"
"Sure it matters."
"...Why."
"Different colors."
"That does not--!" Blink exhaled.

"Alright, then you could give me yours. After all, these were the last half dozen they had. And we both know I enjoy these more than you do, so... you could give me one, since you have three in total--"
"Two."
"I'm counting the one you ate." 
They cleared their throat and continued. "At any rate, that way, I would get to experience the macaroons this city has to offer, and you would still have two of them. It's a win-win, isn't it? If you simply... give one of those to me."


"Well, 

you see, 

I would, 

but..." 

Pepper looked at Blink as innocently as possible. "...I just can't seem to help myself. They are too good!" 
"But--" They popped it into their mouth and crunched it, leaving a single pink macaroon left.

"Mmmmm, delicious. You really should've had one of these! Such a shame, huh?"
Blink was steaming.

"...You know how much I love--"
Pepper shrugged. "Not my fault you're so bad at poker."
"There's still one left."
"Oh this one?" They stood up, holding the macaroon in their paw. Blink followed them, eyeing the confection as if it would disappear the moment they looked away.
"This one I'm saving." Pepper retrieved one of the clear plastic to-go boxes from the counter and placed the macaroon inside.
 
"Saving for what exactly?"
"Later."
"Why would you- ...That's hardly..."
"Riiight here." They placed it on the end of the countertop. "So eeeeveryone can see it." The pockitt put their paws on their hips and smiled wide at the corvice, who looked moments away from detonation.
"Have it your way. I'll go and ask Pulse for theirs, then." They turned and stormed off.
"Have fun!"
Blink walked out, their face burning red.

Pepper couldn't help but snicker the second the door shut, wiping their eyes and leaning against the kitchen wall, grinning at the singular macaroon in the container.
Moments later, the door opened again, Ravine entering. 
"Back already, huh? I thought you were relieving someone of duty."
"That was the plan." The ruffneck sighed and put her paws in her pockets, then hopped up onto the counter, right next to Pepper.

"And?"
"The stupid macaroons I bought. Juno dropped one, so I said I'd go back and get one from you ...if there were any left. I'm surprised you still have one considering I saw Blink in the hallway." She glanced at the container on the counter.
"You really think I was gonna give them any? Where's the fun in that?"
She shrugged. "Guess not. Either way, would you be willing to let me give that one to Sasha?"
"How do I know you're not--"
Juno and Blink could be heard arguing in the hallway, though it was too muffled to make out well.

Ravine hopped down from the counter, bumping Pepper slightly in the process. "Oh hell. Of course they'd get into it with Juno over that."
"...Guess that solves that, then." Pepper mumbled.
"Look, I need to get out there, so do you mind if--?"
Pepper handed Ravine the clear to-go box. "Sure, sure. Don't want anyone to miss out."
"...Except Blink."
Pepper beamed. "Yep."
The ruffneck rolled her eyes. "Well, thanks. I'll be back."
"Later."
She left with a wave, and a smile.

 

---

Ravine shut the hotel room door behind her and started making her way down the hall, only to stop at the corner.
She bent down and picked up an audio recorder off the floor, then slipped it into her pocket, right next to its remote control.
She began to whistle, a fog obscuring her for barely a moment as Blink's whistle echoed through the hall.
The snake rounded the next corner, and passed by Ravine.
They nodded to her, holding the container with the pink macaroon in their claw.

 

---

Ravine arrived at the hotel room to find Pepper still in the kitchen.
"Oh hey, if it isn't Ravine Classic. You just missed Ravine 2: The Sequel."
She did a double-take. "...What?"
It clicked. Ravine grabbed the door handle again. "I'm gonna kill them."
"Nah, don't worry about it. They'll be back in a second, anyways." 

Ravine stopped, her eyebrow raised. 
Pepper just smirked. "I went by the bakery and paid for one of the plastic display macaroons. That's what Blink's carrying right now. I knew they'd be coming back disguised as somebody, so I switched it out. Real one's with me." They patted a little indent showing in their jacket pocket. "And you should've seen their - or, well, your - face, walking out of here looking so smug. Can't believe they thought I'd fall for that. "

Ravine looked unimpressed.
"What? Come on, I just pulled a fast one on our resident super-spy. You've gotta admit that's impressive."
"Check your pocket."
"...What?"
"Check your pocket."
Pepper shook their head. "Yeah, no, it's still right where I--"
They pulled out the macaroon and looked over it in their paw.
It was plastic.
"Called it."
"...How the hell ..."

 

---

Blink hummed their way down the hall, pulling their prize out of the container and popping it into their mouth.

It tasted delightfully sweet, with just the faintest hint of victory.

[Zenthis]

---

The Cage- 2020
Zenthis, unnamed project
CW: Death, Drowning, Abuse implications, Claustrophobia
Turbine has some regrets

---

You are drowning. You can feel water pouring into your exhaust ports and through the cracks in your chassis and you are drowning. You shouldn't have said that. You knew that you shouldn't have when you said it but it just felt like you would have the upper hand over him for once.

And now you are drowning.

You feel like such an idiot, if you had just kept your mouth shut then you wouldn't have had to run away, you wouldn't be here, and most of all, you wouldn't be drowning.

You see something moving out of the corner of your vision and your remember that water isn't the only deadly thing this many thousands of feet below the surface. As you feel part of your metal skin bending inwards from the pressure you remember there’s a lot more here that can kill you.

Water has begun seeping into your 'eyes,' corrupting the feed going to your brain. You know you don't have much time left. You can feel every part of your body shutting down one by one.

Soon, you can feel your brain doing it too.

You don't want to die.

You begin thrashing, desperately trying to do something, anything to survive. You don't know what you're going to do but you are going to do whatever it takes, you will do whatever you can, no matter the cost, if it means you have even the slimmest chance to see your friends again. You are prepared to swim all the way back up to the surface, weight and all.

You suddenly feel tired, more tired than you've ever felt in your life, your second wind taken from you in mere moments.

You feel your feet touch something. That's the last thing you feel before your last spark fizzles into the water permeating your body and you shut down.


 
Your sound processing is the first thing to come back. It's mostly static, but that's enough to rouse you. You focus and begin to hear something through the static. Strangely pitched groaning noises reverberate through your forehead and make your headache even worse.

Your eyes blink on.

You still can't see very well, but you can make out dim shapes all around you. As water drains from every hole in your body as you lay on the ground you think that someone must have rescued you. But as you look closer you realize all of these figures are much too still to be people standing over you. You reach out and touch one.

Leather. Leather with padding. It's just a seat. No one is here with you.

Where... is here?

You see what looks like a window and stumble over to it. Two of your legs aren't moving like they should. One isn't moving at all. As you peer out of it, you can only see dark blue.

You are still underwater.

Your legs fail you and you collapse onto one of the chairs. It takes you 10 minutes to stand back up, it takes another 20 for you to reach the front of this room where you can barely make out a door. You reach for the handle

Upon seeing what is on the other side you begin to understand where you are.

You are in an airplane.

An airplane on the seafloor.

You do not understand how the plane got here, or how you got into it, but you are certainly glad you did.

As you step into the cockpit you understand just how unlikely it is for you to escape to the surface. Most of your systems are damaged, you can barely see a foot in front of you, and water surrounds you on all sides.

That’s not to mention the horror you see sleeping on the other side of the glass.

Because of course that's there.

But this isn't going to stop you. You pry open the console as quietly as possible and get to work. You grab wires, LEDs, anything that looks useful and return to the other room, shutting the door behind you.

You pop off your faceplate and begin to repair your optics, like you've done a thousand times before. That always seemed like it was a favored target for him. You never understood why.
What you wouldn't give for a color testing sheet right now.

Once your eyes are repaired, you move to your legs. You repeat the steps in your head like you always do when you are badly damaged. Eyes, legs, ears, and power unit take priority, then touch and other non vital systems. You learned that this was the optimal order to repair yourself after the 30th or so time you had to do it. Sometimes you didn't even bother with the non vital systems, it just felt like a waste of time to fix them so often.

You slowly get to your feet and check your systems. Everything seems to work fine enough for now. You've followed orders in worse condition.

You look around the cabin slowly with your newly repaired eyes. Taking in your surroundings, looking for anything that could help you.

Your notice that the cabin is almost half the size it should be, and there is no bathroom or flight attendant area like there normally would be in a plane of this size.
Instead there is some strange wall blocking the back portion off. You get closer and take a look.

The wall is at an odd angle, and it seems to be fused with some of the seats, but one of the most striking features of it is the crooked, sideways door set into it. You open it carefully and crawl through. Inside you find yourself in another cabin, near identical to the first. Although, this one seems to be nearly straight up and down.

You make your way up this cabin, pulling yourself up the seats. Something catches your eye through one of the windows and you move to investigate, realizing that you might have a better shot at seeing something outside with your eyes fixed up.

You see planes. So, so many planes. They tower high above you in the water and many of them seem to intersect strangely as the two you've been in so far do. It is a giant pile of planes all clipped together.

As you look you realize: you can't see the top. It might go all the way to the surface. Even if it doesn't, you would still stand a better chance of getting there by leaving from the closet spot you could.

You begin climbing again, feeling hopeful.


 
You curse as you fix your leg for what feels like the hundredth time since you got trapped in this Cage. This time a rogue food cart rolled down one of the slanted cabins and hit you like a truck. You sigh and look out the window, thinking about what she told you.

Is this what she meant when she said she unlocked your potential? All these planes? You figured that you would feel a bit stronger as a god, but you feel just as weak as you always did.

Your tool slips and a cable in your leg snaps.

Maybe even weaker than you were already.

It took you a while after getting down here to figure out the whole god thing. You honestly weren't entirely sure how to feel about it.

With how many planes you made in one go, you figure she must have made you a greater god like herself. You're pretty sure it’s against the rules for her to do that, but she never seemed to care much for those.

She often talked about what gods could do. You would always politely nod your head as she talked, though you often didn't understand much of it.

You finish fixing your leg yet again and test it. You don't have enough good spare parts around here, but you've made do.

You have no idea how long you've been down here, its too deep to see the sunlight, and your internal clock has been busted since you woke up down here. It turns out that pre cut quartz is rather hard to find in a pile of planes at the bottom of the ocean.

After the last time that a plane you had been in slid down the pile to the bottom you decided it might be time to get some help.

You first thought of the possibility a while ago, but you were hesitant. Messing up with her species was the one thing she said she would always regret.

Your vocal synthesizer imitates a sigh as you realize it's probably time.

You lay down and turn off your eyes and ears to focus entirely on your thoughts.

They need to be able to get through metal, they have to be able to get sustenance from the planes and the water around them, they have to be able to get through small spaces...

You make a face when you realize they have to be able to reproduce in some way. You swiftly figure out a better alternative than the usual that gods like to go with for some reason you can't fathom.

It takes you what feels like hours, but you will never know how long it was. You sifted through details, considering every possible thing you could think of.

You believe that you are ready.

You concentrate, and you begin to breathe life into the concepts.


 
Fifteen.

That's fifteen now that have drowned, unable to get back inside with their powers failing them. It's your fault. You know it is. You should have paid more attention to her when she told you about all of this god stuff she got up to.

She told you how careful she needed to be when making a species, how many things could go wrong. How many mistakes had been made by other gods and by herself. What could happen if she didn't plan every little detail.

What could happen if your fear planned details for you.

You had been so afraid of being left behind. You knew that it wouldn't happen but your brain just kept screaming at you that your precious new species would leave you if they could the second you made them.

Now they are just as trapped as you are and your fear screams about how much they must secretly resent you for it.

You sleep alone now. You used to sleep in a pile with some of the gremlins you had gotten close to, but after the third death you became too ashamed.

You see gremlins talking in hushed tones, busying themselves with something when they meet your gaze. Every time you see it happen you feel something die inside you a little more.

You watch as the latest victim of your carelessness is brought carefully into the room.

This time it was one of your friends. You've attended more funerals than you have the stomach for, but you know this won't be the last one. By the estimate of some of the smarter gremlins, you've made it less than an eighth of the way to the surface. About 4000 feet left to go. They sounded so proud when they told you that number. But there was only one thing you could think about when they said that to you.

Could you survive 4000 more feet of funerals?

[A_Mi_Manera]

CRANKSHAFT RAFFLESIAN ONE SHOT - Deals Over Dinner





You're Dotty. You're nice and settled into the leather seated booth of a local food joint filled with wrinkled uniforms and tired faces trying to end the day on a high note. You're among the ranks, a public duelist grabbing a bite after your shift with a newly found friend. You're pleasantly surprised this has gone as far as it has, getting the invite and even seeing her show up before you. 

Lex: Yo, really glad you made it.

Dotty: Yeah, same here. Didn't keep you waiting too long right? I mean I had paperwork to wrap up, didn't get to change out of my uniform before rushing over-

Lex: Don't sweat it, you're fine.

Dotty: You sure? I mean I should've asked for a number or something to tell you but-

Lex: You're fine, for real.

Dotty: Gotcha.

Lex: You're not like, nervous right?

You try to play it off.

Dotty: Nah, I'm all good. You?

Lex: All things considered? Yeah. A bit sore but yeah.

Dotty: You come out of work?

Lex: Nah, I duel. Went sparring today with some of the local circuit scrappies.

Dotty: Didn't you like... hurt yourself earlier?

Lex: Yep. I walk it off.

Dotty: You're crazy, for real?

Lex: I mean yeah, I'm not wasting the rest of my day because someone wanted to pick some beef.

Dotty: Strong.

Lex: Yeah what can I say.. 

Dotty  If I got roughed up by some punk I'd go straight home and nap for the rest of the day. You just got scuffed on campus, patched back together, and then put on your game face right after. 

Lex: Practically indestructible you know? Can't keep me down?

Dotty: Really think that?

Lex: I'm here, means nobody's managed to do me in.  So uh.... you've barely eaten anything.

She narrows her eyes toward your food.

Dotty: Ah! Yeah I mean... I'll get to it.

Lex: Get to it soon, shit'll get cold.

Dotty: If it gets cold I'll ask for a takeout box and eat it at home.

Lex: It's burgers and fries, doesn't reheat well.

Dotty: Yeah well... I'm taking my time.

Lex: What a waste, poor fries didn't deserve to go out that way.

Eventually you do get to it.  Lex wrap up with her own plate. She takes sips from a cup that's got nothing but fragments of droplets left. She looks over like she's trying to prompt something but struggling right now. You make your move.



Dotty: Sooooo... what's the deal with the lens?

Lex: These? 

Dotty: Mmhmm! Cosmetic?

Lex: Corrective. I'm just a little near-sighted.

Dotty: Wee bit?

Lex: Hella more than wee bit, been fussing with insurance to get some repairs work.

Dotty: Didn't know they did custom jobs like that for prescription glasses. Kinda reminds me of some of the stuff... what were they called, the folks who talk to ghosts?

Lex: Ah... well.. I mean I'm a bit of a coat on the side.

Dotty: Coat?

Lex: Like... you know witches?

Dotty: I know of them?

Lex: Kind of a sub-branch really. Little bit paladin-core, little bit on the supernatural enthusiast side. Pushing the good energies in and cleaning out the bad vibes. 

Dotty: So like... you see auras or dead people? Something like that.

Lex: I mean no, I want that but uh... nah.. I can do a pretty good reading though if you want, find the card that's most you.

Dotty: Oh?

Lex: Yeah, don't have my deck on me but next time if you're up to do this some more I can set you up. Once you got your main arcana you got a anchor to keep you safe.

Dotty: What's yours? 

Lex: XX, The Aeon. 

Dotty: What the fuck is a Aeon?

Lex: It's like...a measure of time. I think. 

Dotty: Weird. 

Lex: I'm sure you'll get a cooler one than that.

Dotty: Why's that?

Lex: I dunno. You got a very VIII vibe. 

Dotty: What.

Lex: Like... I dunno. You're tall, you got a long ponytail, you're you don't mind me rambling so much.

Dotty: Gonna take a page from you and say don't sweat. Wouldn't be here if it bugged me.

Lex: You know what? You're right. You got stuff to say too though right? Like, I don't wanna hog all the talk.

You shrug at her.

Dotty: Don't have all that much going on outside of work.

Lex: Nothing? No hobbies? Friends? Troubles to yell about?

Dotty: Ehh.... I'm boring. I just go to work, go home, curl up with a book, and spend weekends 

Lex: You're not.... seeing anyone are you?

Dotty: Nooooooo..?



She smirks at you.

Lex: I'm gonna drop you a proposition. One I think you're gonna like.

Dotty: Bring it. 

Lex: I'm gonna take you out on a date.

Dotty: Oh shit what? Like now?

Lex: Now.

You have work tomorrow morning... but this sort of thing doesn't seem to come up often. You can risk it. Coffee will carry you. You're gonna play along with it, escalate it a little even.

Dotty: Alright, what's the catch?

Lex: No catch.

Dotty: I'm gonna have to put a pin in this for now because I'm gonna counter your little proposition with a few little adjustments.

Lex: Go on.

Dotty: I'm taking you on a date. You pick the spot, we get dessert after.

Lex: I need a sweetener here to really get it going. 

Dotty: Yeah?

Lex: I want a second date.

Dotty: We... we haven't even finished the first?

Lex: As a act of goodwill, I'm counting this right now as our first date. You can buffer it to another day, and that'd be a second date. You could keep this date going. Your call there. But I demand.... you walk me home.

Dotty: Hand holding included?

Lex: Optional. But... I think you've made up your mind on that.

She's giving you the smuggest grin possible. You're trying to turn this around but it's starting to crash down. 

Dotty: I want compliments-

Lex: You're cute. 

Dotty: Your face is cute.

Lex: I know, we got something in common.

Fuck. You fumble around mentally to think of a comeback.

Dotty: Yeah well.. 

Lex: You're making out of this pretty good yeah? You got anything else you gotta drop in? 

Dotty: We're supposed to take turns on this aren't we?

Lex: I got to know that a few nice word melt you. You've given me the biggest thing of all, power. 

You wheezed in a horrible frankenstein cocktail of a laugh and a played up gasp filtered through the most old tin quality windpipe ever heard.

Lex: Did that noise come out of you just now? Oh my god!

Dotty: Look-

Lex: That's cute! 

Dotty: No! You're horrible! We're going on that date now, fuck you!

Lex: You're not getting a take out box?

Dotty: We're asking at the front! God! You're a nasty chaos worm in a costume!

She laughs a little before the confidence she just had flushes down. 

Lex: Are you actually okay? Like.. just to make sure we're all good here? Didn't push any buttons too hard right?

Dotty: Yeah, no, I'm goofing with you too! For real, like.. I'm up for this! 

You ask for a takeout box at the front register. They provide you with a paper bag, close enough. Your date refills her drink before catching up. 

You've nabbed yourself a hell of a challenge here, one you don't think you could have prepared for going into today.

 You got plans to fulfill the whole deal, second date, walking home, down to the word and every interpretation of it.... and if it goes well... maybe renew things for the longer term. You absolutely milked the hand holding clause that day for all it's worth. 

[SHIVERS]

Feedback - 2020
Rin + Shivers, High gods
No content warnings.
Wax stumbles into a project.

---

---

---

Teraphim is busy.
Bringing it all to life.

Smaller scale is better. More personal. Less drastic for this one. 
Neon floor. Pink. No, purple. Tones of red, but blue to make it friendlier. More inviting.
Color appears where you step, radiates out slowly. Gently, like pond ripples.
Mirror walls. 
Low ceiling, pitch black. 
Entrance? Automatic sliding door. Gentle. Slow.
Waterfalls over the mirror walls. Thin, quiet. Still see-through. Reflection visible, but slight distortion.
But not disarming.
Calm.
Reflective.

They don't look up, unable to hear the quiet door opening while they work.

Wax steps in cautiously, nearly jumping out of his skin as the floor beneath him changes color. He falls with a thud, barely able to catch himself from going flat on his back. Teraphim turns their head back calmly, eyes glancing over Wax momentarily before they get back to their work.

"Careful."

"S-sorry, I- I was just wandering..." He scoots onto his knees, looking around the room. "I'd never seen a door like that before."

"It's new. You don't need to apologize." They put one arm across their torso, using it to prop their other hand up to their mouth. 

Teraphim stares at a nearby wall, thinking out loud. "...Need an exit. But it could throw off the simplicity of the room, having two doors. Putting it to the side wall could help, but then it wouldn't be symmetrical..."

"Does it need to be symm-" He shakes his head, immediately apologetic. "Sorry, I shouldn't intrude when we barely know each other..."

Teraphim turns their head to him, really looking at him for the first time since he'd entered. "Why apologize? I'm welcome to input. It doesn't have to be symmetrical, I just think symmetry would suit the room."

They turn back to the wall opposite the door. "I have an idea."

They step forward, and the waterfall parts slowly in front of them. The section of the mirror wall, now uncovered, slides open vertically, revealing a void behind it. "A quick-fix, but it works. Now..." The door slides down shut once more.

"I was thinking of this room as the interior of a building. This panel would open to a room with large windows showing the outside. A cityscape drenched in orange sunrise, lighting up the whole room and casting deep shadows came to mind for me. But I've done that before. And recently.

So,"

They turn entirely to face Wax.
"What should be behind the door?"

"This is...I'm no good at cities, really- I've tried and all, using concepts and thoughts that float around, but it’s hard when they're not real, when nobody's figured out how to make them yet..." He shakes his head again, holding up his hands. "Rambling, sorry, sorry… Why not… a garden?"

They’re quick to respond, and blunt. "Could work, more details.

What kind of garden? Give me colors. Lighting. If it's fitting to this room, then the mood should match; serene and reflective. But it could be dissonant as well. Maybe this door isn't known about to most. How does it feel to be in this garden?"

Wax blinks, taken aback. "Are you really sure you want this much input from me?"

"Collaborating provides inspiration, and it strengthens anything that's created. People working only by themselves can miss things. I have many times. I'd like the input, always. If you're willing.

Beyond that, you can decide for yourself."

"Blue, then. The garden could be blue."

"How does it feel?"

"Like I just suggested a silly idea."

"I meant the garden."

"Oh."

“How does it feel to be in the garden? Think about what someone might want for it. Someone in a place like this." They gesture to the rest of the room.

"It'd feel clean, even if nature itself is well... dirty. Artificial, even. But not in a fake way… like it was crafted deliberately."

"Tidy, then?" They look back at the door. "I'd say the person who owns it feels as if they have everything in order in the garden. Everything is neat. Everything is clean. There are no problems. Nothing to worry about that isn't already under control.

Everything is safe. The garden is safe." They breathe quietly, caught in the moment. "What do you think?"

“I don't know… it's not quite that, I don't think."

"You'd take it in a different direction, then? Hm." They’re invested, hanging onto his words. "Tell me, then:  What is the garden for this person? What does it mean to them? How does it feel?"

"It's a project. They… they come in here to work on it, in little pieces. It's clean because they take their time and don't rush, and always finish what they started."

"So it's a work of theirs, then? A passion project. Something they care deeply about. It's not just a location, but a part of them. Something to be cared for. And someday they'll finish it. There's an end goal. A point where it'll be perfect.

Am I on the right track now?"

"Yes, more along those lines… That's not silly, is it?"

"Tell me what's silly about creating."

"I mean… it's kind of inherently silly, isn't it? You're making something that doesn't exist, can't exist because we don't have ways to make it real, not yet… I guess silly might be bad word choice, though."

Their tone becomes just a little more firm. "I think calling your works - or especially creation as a whole - 'silly,' undermines it.

Creations always have merit. They can be fun, whimsical; and there's nothing wrong with that. But they can also be sad. Tiring. Difficult to make, and difficult to look at. Or exhilarating. They can be anything. And all of it is worth making. Worth showing pieces of yourself. Creating a narrative, or just a setting.

Making things is worthwhile. And when we have the tools to make it real, I know I'll be ready. I won't stop. But for now, this is my canvas." 

The door slides open once more, deep blue light pouring in. 

The meticulously clean garden is now in view.

Clean. Still.

But unfinished. Some pots without plants. Some plants not fully grown.

A work still in progress, but well underway.

Wax sees Teraphim smile for the first time.

"And it can be yours, too."

"I can't- I can't take something like that from you, though, your canvas- if it really does mean all those things you say it does, then I'd be mucking it up with my work-" He pauses, caught up in the beauty of the garden.

Teraphim steps inside with Wax. "Does it seem like you've mucked it up?"

"I suppose not..."

"Then don't say that you are.

Besides, there's plenty of room in godspace. We don't have to collaborate on every project. You can create your own works, too."

"I don't know if I'm cut out for that- I mean, it's kind of ironic, honestly, considering my domains."

"It's not required. But, if you want to create, then you shouldn't be afraid to." Teraphim starts shifting their focus to the small details of the room now. The plants' posture, the tiles of the wall and floor, the tint of the blue lights.

"I do, and I have a lot of ideas, but what if I can't pull them off? I can't just dive in."

"What are you afraid of?"

"It's one thing to make things here, where it can be erased and started anew, but the idea of making things in the real world scares me… No one's really been able to make anything yet, aside from plants and mountains and oceans… but we have all these ideas bouncing around, flooding in from god knows where, images and visions of other worlds that are well… I don't want to say better than ours, but more fleshed out, and it's so easy to want to make all of it for ourselves- But what if we can't? What if I can't?"

"If you can't, then you'll always have this canvas here. This still matters, Wax."

"We were put here with a purpose, though. We know that we must make things, that it's some kind of duty to, and eventually I'll have to get up and do it myself… It's scary."

"Then start planning your creations now. You can practice here, and get input when you want it. That's what I'm doing.

Then you can be ready when the time comes."

"I don't know if I’ll ever be ready." He sits down on a bench, looking around the garden. 

"Do you have to be ready?"

"I mean, yes! At the very least, I do."

"Tell me why."

"One of my domains is imagination- I get all these ideas, they flood into my head, an incessant stream… I can't just do anything that pops in. I can't sit down and brainstorm like other people, I have to sift through all these ideas that come to me without me ever asking them to. If I were to use any random idea that passes by, it could be disastrous."

"You act as if you have to do it alone." Teraphim had crouched over in the corner, but now stands back up, and walks over to Wax. "Asking for feedback is a simple solution."

"I mean, I have feedback- My friend Wane, they try to encourage me all the time."

"Then why are you still worried?"

"I don't know, really."

They sit down next to Wax, looking over the garden. "Do you believe it'll be bad - no matter what - because you made it?"

"A little, yeah."

"Make something here." They point to one of the empty flower pots in front of the two.
"Think about what you want to see. Make it right there."

He hesitates before concentrating, a butterfly-like creature resting upon the dirt. Its wings are iridescent, casting beautiful light onto the dirt around it. "Sorry, it's not a plant..."

Teraphim gets up and makes their way to the creature. "Stand up."

He stands, approaching slowly. The creature does not stir, flapping its wings slowly.

"Hold your hand out."

He does so, the creature taking lift and landing upon it. Wax freezes up entirely, glancing over at Teraphim with a nervous look.

"Look closely at it."

He leans in, just enough to get a better look.

"Now tell me..."  They look Wax in the eyes. "What, exactly, is so wrong with this creature?"

"Nothing, really… though I suppose I worry about how fragile it is."

"Is it a mistake, Wax? That's what I'm asking."

"No, I wouldn't call it that."

"Then don't believe nothing you create has value, just because you made it." With the most gentle of touches, Teraphim nudges a claw under the bug-like creature, allowing it to perch atop.

They look over it, taking in everything about it. "This creature is beautiful. Fragility is not a flaw. There is nothing wrong with it.

It's perfect. Exactly the way it is."

The creature takes flight once again, its delicate wings glistening magnificently in the deep blue of the room, reflecting tiny fragments of colorful light all over.
It rests atop Wax's hand once more. 

"Just as you are.
Don't doubt yourself."

"I suppose you have a point, there..."

"Then you don't need to be afraid."

He would have smiled if he had a mouth, watching the creature gently flap its wings.

"Feel free to keep going as you'd like. I want to rest."
With that, Teraphim sits back down on the bench.

They watch, curiosity piqued, as Wax begins creating.

[skinstealer]

---

Erasure- 2020
Ringor Mortis + Zenthis, Punch Clock Animal/General Morbit
CW: Alcohol (brief), gaslighting, mind control
Quarry accepts Wane's invitation to talk.

---

Wane kicks back in their armchair, big enough to practically a throne. They could be any size they wanted in godspace, but large suited them- they liked the feeling of towering over people, feeling strong, and being able to back those claims up.

And tonight, they're feeling stronger than ever. A new sport, invented by them, of course, was reaching new heights of popularity, and their people are celebrating from dusk until dawn. Nothing was better to them than hearing the cheers of an excited crowd in the magic mirror hanging over their fireplace, and right now, they're relishing it in the privacy of their own extraplanar home.

A loud unpleasant ringing fills the space without warning, slowly quieting down until it is silent again. A figure steps straight out of the wall next to the fireplace. Quarry stands at her normal height of 9 feet, looking rather imposing to Wane’s 8 feet, despite her fragile looking glass body.

"Wane, right?"

"What th-" Wane scrambles in their chair, practically scooting their whole body up into it. "Who the fuck are you?!"

"You sent me a letter, you said you wanted to see me asap. You can't tell me you forgot about me already?" Quarry says, leaning against the wall they came through.

"...ah. You're the uh, rebellion kid." They lean in, squinting. "Pretty sure you weren't a high god though, not in my notes."

"I'm hardly a kid, in most species I'd be counted as elderly," she says indignantly. "And I'm not a high god, I'm just great." She smiles at her small half pun.

"Then you're not supposed to be here!" An unexpected smile spreads across their face. "That's some trick."

"If you say so," she says, shrugging. "It's just something I'm able to do. So... you are Wane, correct? God of bravado and..." the barest hint of uncertainty crosses her face, "Truth?"

"The one and only- you're pretty interesting right off the bat, you know!" They settle back into a proper sitting position, kicking back. "You were already on our radar before, but now, after this little stunt? Whoof!" Their smile only grows, seemingly ignoring the other god's uncertainty.  "You intrigue me."

She sighs imperceptibly at those words. "Yes I've had no shortage of people being... intrigued by me." She grabs a chunk out of the stone wall which reforms itself into a chair in her hands that she slams down before sitting in it backwards. "So what is it that you want? Everyone seems to want me for one reason or another."

"I'm curious! Like you said, everybody is. You're a rarity! Something new and exciting!"

She raises an eyebrow. "Really? Just curiosity? You didn't ask me to come talk to you for anything else?"

"Well...you got me there. I got an offer, but only if I get to know you a little first. Make small talk. Ask questions."

"Basic vetting shit I take it? Wanting to make sure I'm not a murderer or a liar?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Well if that's the case then do I get to ask shit to find out if you're a murderer or a liar?"

"I can answer that easy- for one thing, only a murderer if you consider honest and mutual bloodsport as murder. It's got rules, it's got honor- nobody forced into it, not like other regions. You ever hear of the things they do to people in Monte? Horrible!"

"I can't say I'm too fond of bloodsports, honorable or not," she says, leaning back slightly, "So what about the other one. You a liar?"

"Everyone lies at some point or another, but if I was a liar, I wouldn't be a very good god of truth, would I?"

"No, I suppose you'd be pretty shitty, huh?" She says, "So, what questions did you have for me then?"

"First off, what's your deal? Domains, motifs. Fill me in."

"Well, I already know yours, so I suppose its only fair," she says, looking up at the ceiling, "Rebellion, law, and..." she pauses, "My motifs are glass and paint."

"Glass and paint, nice...very nice. And those domains, too! You must have some pretty sweet powers under your belt."

"I... suppose. But I try to use them responsibly. There's few things worse than someone powerful abusing said powers," they reply, looking pointedly back at Wane, "Wouldn't you agree?"

And that's exactly why we've got you in our sights!" They continue to ignore the other god's jabs, summoning a flask of ale with a flick of their wrist. "You drink?"

"Not during business, that's for sure."

"Fair enough!" They down a large gulp. "Takes a lot more than this to get me running my mouth, so not a problem for me. Got good tolerance and all that."

"If you say so..." they mumble, "So, do you have more questions, or did I pass already?"

"No, no, I got more questions." They raised a hand. "Relax, we're taking this easy. I was planning on making it more formal, but you interrupted me during my well, me time."

"Yes well, I find it easier to gauge what kind of person someone is when they've been caught somewhat off guard."

"Makes it easier on me, to be honest! But, if you're ready to get down to brass tacks, I'll be upfront- we've got problems here in Taverne. Bet you've heard of em, considering one of my kids is kind of an infamous little bitch." They snort. "Forgive the language, but she's earned it."

"I've heard stories from some of my people, yes."

"Her people, they're good people. They deserve better than the treatment she gives them, and the religion she preaches. I've tried to appeal to her as a mother, but...I'm at my wit's end. Both Wax and I are." They point at the greater god, leaning in just a bit. "But you, with those domains...I heard good things, but to hear that confirmation makes me sure of it. You could be a great ally for us."

"If I agreed to this, what exactly would you expect me to do, Wane?"

"Well, you'd get a proper alliance with us- can't be easy out there on your own. Our resources are your resources, as long as it's reasonable. You'd be able to conduct your business however you want, long as you aren't as bad as my shitty daughter and you mean the best for your people, and when we need you, you pitch in with whatever you got. We'll do the same for you."

 "I will help your people, same way I help all people, but I won't ally with you."

"Fair enough." They slump back in their chair. "Do I get a reason why?"

"Well it's like I said, I really hate it when people misuse their powers."

They watch her expression carefully, not saying a word.

"I don't know why you did, but I can feel that you fucked with my head. More than once."

They place their ale down on the side table by their chair, keeping full eye contact. "That's a pretty serious accusation!"

"Oh for fuck- you know that just saying 'no I didn't' would be way more convincing, right?"

"You wouldn't believe that even if it is the truth. I know a set opinion when I see one, kid."

"Yeah and I know a liar when I hear one. I just don't get why you messed with my head of all people, and a while ago, too..."

 "I don't go messing with people's heads!" Their face grows fierce, if only for a moment. "That'd be unethical as hell and I wouldn't stand for it, I don't stand for my own daughter doing that to people, for god's sake! That's why I wanted to talk to you in the first place!"

She looks down while mumbling to herself, clearly not listening to what Wane said. "Why would I be singled out? I didn't even know they were aware I existed then. Unless..."

"If you're just here to make ridiculous conspiracy theories about me, there's pleeeenty of other gods you can talk to. Like you said, everybody's got an interest in you."

Her face twists into an expression of panicked comprehension, "It wasn't just- I thought it was only- what happened that you needed to-" panicked, she tries to get up and back away, but she trips on her chair, sending it and her to the ground. She lays there, panting, looking up at Wane.

"Wane, what the fuck did you do?"

They say nothing, their expression softening into something immensely sad.

Quarry feels her heart sink as her fears are confirmed. "What... what did you do?" She asks again.

They rise from their chair, taking a few steps towards her before kneeling at her side. When they speak, there's something almost numbing in their voice, their tone full of sorrow. "What's your third domain, Quarry?"

"I- it- it's insight," she says, feeling as though the words are forcing their way up her throat.

They make a soft hum of acknowledgment, placing a large hand on top of her head. "I'm sorry, for this."

"Wh- what are you doing?" She says, trying to crawl backwards but finding it hard to move.

"You came here to talk with me, and you decided the deal was no good. You didn't have a very good time with me, but aside from that, you have no issue with me. Just another failed high god offer, and now you're ready to leave." They close their eyes tight, squeezing them shut before letting out an impossibly long exhale. "This is your truth."

 She blinks a couple times before bringing a hand up to her head, "Ugh, what happened, why are we on the floor?"

"You took a spill all of a sudden, kid...think the heat of the fire was too much for you. You're practically close enough to get melted."

"Ugh my fucking head... can that happen? If I got melted here would it hurt me outside?"

"Nah, you'd be fine as soon as you check out- plus side of hanging out in a place like this!" They clapped her on the back before helping her up. "There we go!"

"Thanks... you know, you're actually kind of ok, it's too bad that we weren't able to work out a deal because of..." She trails off, then shakes her head, "Uh, something. I guess this godspace thing was a little more tiring than I thought."

"It's your first time, right? You'll get used to it."

"No I've... tested it a little... I think I'm just going to... go," she says, falling forward. But rather than smacking face first into the floor, she passes straight through it and is gone.

Wane lingers for a moment before going back to their chair, staggering slightly before collapsing into it. 

The cheers of their people no longer feel comforting.

Not much does, after this.

[A_Mi_Manera]

Corazones - A One Shot among Many

Feat: Arabis and Zinnia
 

---

---

Two travelers together out of contract traverse into a rather shallow cave filled with stalagmites. You are one of these. Your name is Arabis, a rather fiendish spider of a man who has lost a fight with the dog you are now traversing place to place with. Though they offered to spare you, you insisted to repay a debt out of a sense of maintaining your pride. Zinnia, as they call themselves, claims to be part of a guild of knights under the banner "Judgment." You don't question too much of their motives though with a name like that you assume it's religious. They seem too nice to be part of something with a name so Templar-esque however, so it's hard to say. 


Zinnia stops you in a spot where things are lit. 





Zinnia: Pause with me here for a moment.

Arabis: Is something wrong?

Zinnia: Nay, I'd just like to talk a little if you don't mind.

Arabis: We could talk as we go, I don't see why we're stopping.

Zinnia: I'd like to see your face clearly for this, I'm about to make you an offer you might take up.

Arabis: Oh? Fascinating, what could you possibly offer a forest hermit?

Zinnia: A home, a new chance at the world from a comfortable seat, and a title of honor. 

You're skeptical. 

Arabis: I see. Continue.

Zinnia: Our journey is ending soon, I will return to my guild and thus the need for your services will end soon... but you make for genuinely good company so I suppose I'm quite torn on saying farewell.

They can't be serious, nobody asks for the company of one like yourself so casually. 

Arabis: Would your guild not consider me difficult to keep around? Most knights have a distrust of unusual fiends such as myself.

Zinnia: Mmm. I'm not a garden variety dog, like you referred to me once before. I too am a fiend as you suspected. We're rather ragtag so a willing hand is more important than any terrible bias of the territory. 

Arabis: Your eyes do give it away... and bias is a little too nice a word for it. I'd call it cruelty. 

Zinnia: You may call it that and I would not disagree.

Arabis: What is your angle? You need a grip for your cargo? Someone to mock during the post dinner conversation?

Zinnia: My angle is.... I find you nice to be around and I think I may even have grown to trust you.

Arabis: You have no reason to.

Zinnia: You could have killed me in my sleep at any point. You could have run off during engagements with bears and giant reptiles.... yet you stuck around consistently.

Arabis: I want to keep my end of the bargain and I have no way to end your life quietly without being struck down.

Zinnia: You insist on sharing a bunk whenever offered your own room. 

Arabis: I'd prefer to keep an eye on the one I'm temporarily serving. 

You're bluffing as best you can, you don't want this dog to think you.... care. 

Zinnia: I will not push the offer further then.... but admittedly I've warmed up to you quite a bit so this would be disappointing.

Arabis: Oh?

Zinnia: Mm, stung even. I less than quietly hoped you saw the two of us as more than temporary allies. 

Arabis: Are... are you really being this forward with me right now?

Zinnia: It does not matter, you have your choice to end this whenever you wish.

Arabis: I am under contract yes?

Zinnia: You are under contract because you referred to be spared without the favor being returned despite my insistence otherwise but... alas. Woe is me, you have slain any hopes to find meaning in this. For shame, I drastically misread the last couple of weeks. Oh well.

Their overacting is entertaining... and proof that they absolutely called your bluff. They smirk at you.

Zinnia: In that case, as soon as we leave this cave safely you are free to return to your part of the forest you call a home yes? I will stockpile you with food and coin of course as spoils for making this journey with me. 

Arabis: I refuse to leave you until we return to your guild... and I'd rather save that toward liquor and bread at the inn. It's going to be quite cold tonight and as a cold blooded arachnid I'd rather not start for home right now.

Zinnia: You've more than served what you offered at this point, no?

Arabis: I am invested in the success of the trip, dog. Besides, I do rather discuss such an offer as yours on a proper table if you would allow it. Ideally on paper and ink where I will not be screwed by your word against mine.

Zinnia: I can arrange a proper contract once we return to town.

Arabis: Can we continue with all that said? This cave is damp and discomforting. I'd like to see the sun a little more before the day ends.

Zinnia: Certainly.... thank you for allowing me to indulge in a few theatrics by the way. 

Arabis: Are you the type?

Zinnia: Absolutely, the people at my guild don't care for it much but it does warm me up that you played along.

Arabis: Ah.... it was nothing I assure you. 

Zinnia: When we return... would you care to participate in hot drink and a shared blanket? Together? It'd be easier to warm up if-

Arabis: You do not have to pretend, certainly. 

Zinnia: Then you-!

Arabis: I'm considering it. You are a very odd person for thinking of a very fiendish fiend in such a way but... I am not entirely opposed.

Zinnia: We shall hurry back then. Are you ready to continue to progress?

Arabis: Please, this cave is filled with ceiling bats and mushrooms farming moisture.

[skinstealer]

---

Burial- 2020
Ringor Mortis, Tiny Cat People (Void Session)
CW: Death, discussion of mortality
Primus thinks back to a solemn discussion.

---

It hasn’t been long since Primus was spawned, but he’s pretty sure this is the most nervous he’s ever been in his life. There’s too many thoughts swirling around his head, and he’s trying to parse them one by one, but it’s overwhelming at this point and he doesn’t have any idea what to do. Whipp just told him that Jasper, Seaspray and Marvel are in trouble, and that people could die. He hasn’t even known Jasper for that long, and Seaspray and Marvel were on other teams but they’re still friends…

Primus knows what mortality is by now- Void taught it to him, after all. It’s a scary concept, but it makes sense to him. All things eventually die, even if they live a long time before they do. He hadn’t thought much of it then, back when Dad had to bury a body in front of the wizard tower. She had brought him out to look at the grave herself some time after Jasper showed up, and the two of them had talked for some time. Buddy didn’t want to look, Marnet taking care of it inside, but Primus had come with Dad, sitting on the porch and talking. 

Dad, will we leave corpses like that, when we die?

I think so, yeah. Can’t tell for sure though, lot of this is all new to all of us.

Well, we’re new! Everything about this world is new! That’s what makes it so exciting!

I think you’re a little more optimistic than me on these things, kid. 

Maybe...but I guess I can’t help it. Even stuff like this, like this corpse, it doesn’t bother me as much as it feels like it should. I should be feeling more, you know? Void taught us all about this mortality stuff, and with that I know that people...what’s the word? 

Grieve?

Yeah, grieve...I don’t really know how to do that yet. I can’t make myself feel sad for the corpse, even if it’s dead…

I mean, none of us knew the corpse. It wasn’t alive when it showed up. Probably never was

But you were freaked out, right?

Well, yeah. I’m pretty sure when people see dead things, no matter what they are, it’s pretty natural to get freaked out.  

Do you think we’re going to die? I mean, we’re learning how to fight, and there’s going to be enemies, ones we have to hurt...they’re going to hurt us back, aren’t they?

I mean...not gonna lie to you, it’s a raw deal. I’m gonna do everything in my power to keep anybody here from dying, but yeah. It’s possible.

And what about the enemies? The other teams? I...I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t know if I could, let alone if Buddy could…

Dad sighed hard at the time, leaning back.

Buddy’s more capable than any of us give it credit for. I think it could do what’s needed when- if, the time comes. I think you could too.

What about you?

Oh, yeah. I could.

Wow, uh, you answered that pretty quickly! 

You people are my family, of course I’d go toe to toe to protect you. I don’t want to kill anybody either, and I get the want for everything to go peacefully...I don’t want any fluid shed here. But if it was between choosing one of your lives or the life of an aggressive stranger, I’d pick my family. Every time.

I guess when you put it like that, it makes sense.

Nobody talked for a few moments, the breeze passing over the both of them. 

What about Jasper and Marnet? 

Hmm?

Would they be able to kill people, do you think?

Well, kid, I dunno...Marnet, sure. 

Really?

Definitely. You saw the way she handled that gun. She’s ready to throw down. 

I mean, sure! I guess that makes sense! She just seems so nice.

Nice people can still step up to do what’s right, even when it’s rough.

But is it right? Killing the enemy?

...not sure, to be honest. I know protecting y’all is what’s right to me, though. Pretty sure she’s the same way.

Have you talked with her about it?

A little here and there. She’s good to talk strategy with.

You two have been hanging out a lot together! I’m really glad to see it.

Yeah, well...I like her. 

So do I!

No, like...nevermind. I can’t even figure out how to describe it myself, and I’m the one feeling it. It’s different, that’s all.

Will you tell me when you figure it out? 

Sure. 

What about Jasper, though?

I mean, we just met them, hard to say whether they’d actually be willing to kill. They’ve just been spawned, even. It’s hard to say anything about them yet. 

But they’re family, right?

Only if they want to be, and only in the ways they want to be. 

What do you mean?

Well, it’s like this. I know by being a dad type that parenting is a thing, more where Void’s from than here.

Okay. Parenting. That’s like what Void is to us, right?

Right. But I feel like a dad to you and Buddy too.

What about Marnet?

Eh...not as much. She and I, it’s like we’re on the same level. She’s not my kid. 

I don’t feel like a kid, though, even if I don’t know everything yet. I don’t think Buddy does either.

You can still be somebody’s kid, no matter how grown up you are. And Marnet isn’t mine. Not like that. 

And Jasper?

That’s the thing. Jasper’s still figuring out who they want to be, and I don’t feel comfortable putting myself in that kind of parent position until they’re ready to talk about it. 

Yeah, I guess that’d be pretty overwhelming! 

I mean, shoot, I guess I never asked you and Buddy about it either. Guess I fouled up there.

Oh, I don’t mind! If you want to be my dad, you’re my dad! You should ask Buddy about it later, though...but I think it’ll be on the same page with that. We love you!

You’re gonna embarrass me, kid.  

It went silent again, the melancholic reason for coming out here in the first place almost forgotten. Almost.

Dad, I really hope we don’t have to kill anyone. Or have anyone die. I don’t want the people we’ve met to go either, they seem pretty nice...I want to keep making friends, and I want to stay with them! There’s so much more I want to see and do and show people, and adventures I want to have. I just...I wish we could do that without all this risk. Without the pressure.

We don’t really have a choice. This is the world we were spawned into, and it’s what we gotta work with now. 

I know.

We’ll make it through, alright? You got me, and I have your back. I got everybody’s back that I can. 

I hope that when we meet the enemies, they don’t have to be enemies. I hope that we can try to be friends.

Me too, kid. Me too.

[skinstealer]

---

Session- 2020
Ringor Mortis, Memoirs
CW: Death, ableism, abuse
Somnia attempts therapy.

---

You look across the room at the TCP sitting there, watching as she clicks her pen and scribbles down notes. You stiffen, not sure what she could possibly be writing- you haven’t even said anything yet.

DR. SOOTH: Somnia.
SOMNIA: ….
DR. SOOTH: You’re going to have to talk to me if you want to make the most of therapy. 
SOMNIA: I know. 
DR. SOOTH: This is a safe place to speak your mind, get things off your chest- I’m here to help you. Nothing you say leaves this room. No one’s going to hear this but me and you.

That’s decidedly untrue, so you stay silent. Your therapist sighs, writing down another note. 

DR. SOOTH: You scheduled this appointment saying it’s a crisis. I need to know what you’re going through if I’m to help you work through this, and your message earlier has me worried. 
SOMNIA: What about it was worrying? I stated that I needed an appointment. 
DR. SOOTH: With what’s been happening in your life recently, I just...

You’re pretty sure you left a straightforward message, nothing alarming about it. From the look Dr. Sooth is giving you though, you’re equally pretty sure she has other ideas. 

DR. SOOTH: Do you think you’re detaching from the world to try and deal with grief? Dissociation, even?
SOMNIA: I don’t know. I wouldn’t know.
DR. SOOTH: You’ve barely spoken a word to me since you joined our clinic, and we’ve spent the past few sessions in silence, even though you expressed to me that your case was drastic on the phone. And to get your message earlier…
SOMNIA: It’s hard to explain. I don’t know if I can.

She massages her forehead, trying not to look as frustrated as she likely feels. You can’t help but get the feeling that frustration isn’t the best trait for a therapist, but to be fair, she’s right on you not talking much. You couldn’t blame her much.

DR. SOOTH: I want to work with you, Somnia.  
DR. SOOTH: But you have to let me in. Please.

You hesitate, feeling a cold chill on your shoulder. 

SOMNIA: ...why don’t us TCPs have funerals?
DR. SOOTH: Pardon?
SOMNIA: Funerals, burial rites. Any sort of ceremony.
DR. SOOTH: Well, we don’t leave corpses when we die.
SOMNIA: What about capturing the shreds and scraps in a jar, or something? I know some complexes do that. Why not us?
DR. SOOTH: Some TCP cultures do practice that, but-
SOMNIA: But what?
DR. SOOTH: From my understanding of it, due to the circumstances of your partner’s death, that wasn’t possible. By the time people able to handle TCP-related crimes arrived on the scene, your partner’s shreds were scattered to the wind. 
DR. SOOTH: You were waiting for hours, Somnia. You’d need near-immediate collection for that kind of thing to work out for a TCP. It’s better suited to those suffering from illness, where they’re in a contained environment, instead of-
SOMNIA: Instead of a murder.
DR. SOOTH: ...yes. Instead of that. 
SOMNIA: And what about the scraps?
DR. SOOTH: Scraps aren’t scientifically proven to exist, and even if they did, they’d probably be blown to the wind just as easily.
SOMNIA: And what if they weren’t?
DR. SOOTH: Then I suppose it’d be a pile of scraps, or however they cluster.

The cold chill spreads to your entire back, and you can hardly stand it. 

You’re hesitating. Just the same as it’s always been.

SOMNIA: And what if they clustered enough to form something?

Dr. Sooth takes a deep breath, or at least the closest gesture to doing so, and tries to remain composed. 

DR. SOOTH: Ghosts aren’t real, Somnia. If you’re experiencing symptoms of...haunting, I suppose, it’s more likely to be, well, psychosis, or vivid flashbacks. Hallucinations after traumatic events aren’t uncommon-
SOMNIA: I don’t think I’m psychotic. 
DR. SOOTH: I’m not saying that you are, I’m just stating that we know for a fact that scrap ghosts aren’t real.
SOMNIA: Some regions have them marked as citizens.
DR. SOOTH: And those regions have very specific spiritual practices that do not exist over here. If you were to convert, I would support you in it, but I feel as if you entertaining the idea of a ghost- the ghost of your recently murdered partner, no less, is a coping mechanism to deal with the grief. 
SOMNIA: He’s not a coping mechanism. 
DR. SOOTH: So you believe that there is a ghost, then.
SOMNIA: Yes. 
DR. SOOTH: And is said ghost in this room right now?
SOMNIA: Yes.
DR. SOOTH: And what is it doing?
SOMNIA: He.
DR. SOOTH: What is he doing, then?
SOMNIA: He’s holding me. 
DR. SOOTH: And why is that?
SOMNIA: He doesn’t want me to run away. He wants me to talk about him. 
DR. SOOTH: Would you run away, if given the chance? Do you want to leave this session?
SOMNIA: Very much so. 
DR. SOOTH: You shouldn’t run away from your treatment, Somnia. It’s important that you work through this grief and sit in your feelings. 
SOMNIA: I don’t think I have a choice to not sit in my feelings, considering there is a ghost holding me hostage. 
DR. SOOTH: Hostage?
SOMNIA: I can’t do anything without his say. 
SOMNIA: He made me make this appointment. 
DR. SOOTH: Why?
SOMNIA: Because if I did, you’d say that I’m making it up, and he’d win. 
SOMNIA: He wants proof that no one will believe me. 
SOMNIA: And he got it now, so.
SOMNIA: I guess that’s that.

There’s no more talk, after that. She has nothing to say, and neither do you. You stand up and walk out, and don’t bother making another appointment at the front desk.

This is something you’re going to have to handle on your own.

[A_Mi_Manera]

Corazones con Pinto - A One Shot Follow Up 



The two of you are walking through a Inn to find your room. You're both in a high mood after quite a successful night of merrymaking and mischief. 

"Arabis, you magnificent fiend." Zinnia can't hold back a grin as the two of you stroll down the hall. "I cannot begin to believe you managed us such a discount at the Inn but you have done quite wonderfully today."

"With my bastardly energies I can manage quite a bit dog, do not underestimate me. Besides, I wanted to make up for lost costs."

"You don't owe me anything."

"You treated me quite a bit at the pub and managed to find the funds to provide me with a warm coat for these damp and cold times."

"You needed it."

"I could have managed... but none the less I thank you. I think this is our number." 

"21? So horridly cursed..."

"I don't see the significance of it, what's your worry?"

"It's a bit of a old urban legend, the completed 21 that whisks you away."

"Sounds like cryptid speak, I don't care much for it."

"Really? You seem like you'd know quite a bit considering you are what some would call a cryptid."

"And most of it is misinformation. A chubby snake that bursts into your home, steals your alcohol, and tells you lies? Rabbits that lays monster eggs? Men who hit you with sticks until you cry and steal you away in a bag during the winter for being a rotten person? All false claims meant to scare kids to do their work and go to bed on time. These figures are hard working and do no more wrong than your average José on the street."

"Average Joe, Arabis."

"Same difference."

"You really are exuding bastard energies today, I was impressed at what you've done with the Inn owner though."

"I impress myself! Oh woe us newly weds saw your flier gives single room discounts to those traveling toward out honey moon! Ye assist us for my clueless partner has managed to find us quite lost!"

Zinnia plays along and echos the exchange with the Inn keeper from earlier. "Oh but ye in angel country! It's far off from any honeymoon spot!"

"On contrary my dear innkeeper, angel country is where the springs blessed by the father himself are at!"

"It is not worth your lives! Giants and hell beasts among ye will eat you alive!"

"On contrary! We are in Wonder and the lord Alloy has offered to greet us on our special occasion! See my dear partner is a Knight as their pin would imply, part of a guild that has the blessings of the tiny snake! We cannot keep him waiting for long lest he bad mouth us to Reign and damn our souls. In a advance they granted us this wedding gift, a beautiful warm cloak to help us fare better on our journey."

"If Reign and Alloy are involved I cannot allow you to be without rest. I take it you will have a single bed?"

"Single bed, largest that's unoccupied! We need to rest well to look good for our very important meetup!"

"I will manage my best for you two ring stumblers, ye know that those of importance gain discount here yes? Why we could even offer breakfast! I assure you they're the best eggs from the stagnating hen!" 

"Oh your kindness is too much innkeeper!"

"Oh well such a lovely couple as yourselves making it through is worth all the sucking up!"

The two of you are on the verge of tears trying not to break character and laugh. Zinnia wipes their eyes. "Oh Arabis, your theatrics are unmatched and I applaud them. Shall we get settled in?"

"Certainly dog, I apologize I could not manage the bunk today but under the circumstances we did manage an absurdly discounted room."

"I come from a knight's guild, I do not mind having to share a space to sleep. Do you have any ground rules?"

"None off the top of my head. Yourself dog?"

"Nothing really, just please note that if I mistake you for a pillow at night and hug you, you may wake me up to correct the situation."

You smirk. "You hug your pillows, dog?"

"It's comforting. Yourself?"

"Maybe, admittedly I have not spent much time on proper beds so we'll see. Shall we get situated for bed?"

"Soon yes."

That night Zinnia mistook you for a pillow. You did not have the heart to wake them up. 

[SHIVERS]

Candidates - 2020
Rin + Shivers, Patchwork Kernel
No content warnings.
Wax conducts follow-up interviews.

---

---

---

Wax sat in his mountain, hunched over as always. Hugging his knees wasn't the most dignified position, but it was how he fit in this cavern. He couldn't help but wish he had a little bit more leg room, though… hopefully it put the interviewees at ease.

"Send in the first one."

Juno stepped out onto the balcony, losing their gait for a moment as Wax's giant face came into view.
They continued despite this, looking well-past nervous as they took a seat toward the edge of the balcony, clearing their throat.
"Hello."

Wax kept his voice soft as he addressed them, trying to minimize any sort of nerves. "Hello, thank you for coming with your group on such short notice. Did you make the travels safely?"

They nodded slowly.

"Good, I'm glad… Hearth can be a confusing place." He leaned back slightly, giving them more air. "And your name?"

"Jun-" They cleared their throat once more. "Sorry. Juno. I've never... met..." They gestured at nothing, hoping the words would come.
"...Well... someone like..." Their sentence de-railed.

"A high god? Or at least, one my size?"

"Any god. Ever."

"Ah. This is a big first experience, then."

They nodded. "At... At any rate, I'd like to hear more about the job, if... or, we can just talk. However- However would be best for this. We're happy to try and help."

"A bit of both, if that's alright with you."

"Of course! Yep. Yes. ...Sorry." The gesabott took a quick breath.
"Anything you... wanna know?"

"More about you, I suppose. If I give you this job, I want to know that the people doing it are ones I can trust."

"Well, I can assure you that... if I have this job, you can trust me to get it done as best as I'm able. And if... I don't feel like it's something I'm cut out for, well... my friends could still take it. They're a lot more capable than I am, but, I'll still do everything I can to make sure I can do it well."

"They're more capable than you?" He tilted his head. "What makes you say that?"

The eyes on their display grew a little bigger.
"Well! Just. They have more... expertise with... That is to say, they're better at... lots of things. Especially with dangerous jobs. They have more combat ability, and they're faster, think better under pressure, those sorts of things. I'm just... well, gesabotts - you probably know already, but - we're close to indestructible. But I also don't want to be a liability by... being in the way, or anything like that. So... yeah, I- it depends on what you need, really."

"You passed your first interview with flying colors, you know."

"Oh." 

"Well, that's... I'm happy to hear that."

"I think you should give yourself more credit, even though I've just met you. You're a part of this team. Not just an accessory."

"We're not... exactly..." They nodded. "I'll... keep that in mind. Did you have any questions for me?"

"What do you think this offer's going to be?"

"I'm... guessing it has to be important, if you're the one asking."

"Well, yes. Very important to me, at least."

"Well... we're here to help. If... you think we're a good fit."

"Are you good at finding things?"

"...I'd say we have experience with that, yeah."

"And how about people?"

They shuffled in their seat a little.
"I've had a lot of... customer service jobs."

"Those tend to be the worst kind, from what I hear."

Juno bit their lip. 
"They are... rewarding in their own... way," said Juno, clearly trying to be polite.

"You can be honest with me."

"...It isn't a field that really suited me well."

"I'm guessing this field treats you much better. Do you like it? I mean, the adventure of it must be nice."

"I really like exploring around and seeing new places. And I'm really glad I've met good people through it. It can be dangerous, too, but I'm kind of protected from that."

"Good. That's just what I want to hear."

"Does that help you? With your decision, I mean?"

"Mhm. Helps quite a bit."

"Did... you need anything else from me?"

"No, I think that'll be all...you can send the next person in."

"Alright, well..." They almost held out a claw to shake but stopped themself. "Was good meeting you." Juno started walking back, briskly enough to denote their nervousness.

"Thank you for your time!" He called out after them, trying to settle in for the next interviewee.

They waved as they exited.

 

---

Wax could hear a small commotion inside once Juno made it back in, seemingly the rest being worried about what could've possibly happened.

A ruffneck covered in scars and wearing a tattered poncho entered next.
She stood at the edge of the balcony, saying nothing.

"Hello."

"Wax." she addressed simply.

"And you are Ravine, I take it. I saw your interview."

"Could've given us a little warning."

"My offer has to remain confidential until I'm absolutely sure of my candidates."

She pointed back towards the door with her thumb. "Didn't mind making Juno panic, I guess."

"They handled it well, all things considered. I like them."

"Mm." She pulled out one of her cigarettes.

"Ah, can you- can you not smoke, in here? Sorry, just… bad associations."

She stopped. "It's not real cigarette smoke. And it's open air in here. Still gonna get to you?"

"As long as I lean back, I suppose it'll be fine."

The ruffneck sighed and put it away. "S'fine."

"If you're sure."

"I'll live." She pocketed the pack.
"You aren't how I expected."

"What were you expecting?"

"Less timid." she said bluntly.

"I- I am not timid."

"Mm."

"You had questions? Or did you just want to get to know me?"

"Mostly the latter. You answered plenty of questions on your initial interview."

"I can get this job done. I can do it in the way that you want. Doesn't matter what it is. If you need to know more about me, then you can pry, but I don't have anything to say unprompted."

"Nothing relevant to the job, anyways."

"You're very to the point, aren't you?"

"You already know the answer to that."

"No chance at a conversation here?"

"Talk if you want, and I'll answer. I'm here to do a job."

"How are you with tracking people down?"

"Efficient."

"How efficient?"

"Are you looking for a metric? You've got access to my records with Ambit."

"I want to hear it in your words. Give me an example."

"I've taken hundreds of people-finding jobs, including competitive ones. No one has ever finished before me. But you already knew that, if you did your research."

"Didn't you look into us beforehand?"

"I did, but I want to hear a personal story of you finding someone, one that challenged you. If you'd like."

"It isn't challenging."

"Then one that you found interesting."

"My track record speaks for itself."

"Or do you just want a story?"

"I'd like a story, yes. I want to hear your side."

"My 'side' is that jobs don't stand out. I sign up for them, I get them done, and I get paid." 

"You know what I can do, and you know I can do it. If you need me to prove myself, then I will, but I'm not here for your entertainment just because you want company."
She turned around, already on her way out.

"If you want someone to talk to, chat with Juno."
She turned just long enough to glare at him. 

"Don't scare them again."

"...very well. Thank you for your time."

"Yeah."
The door shut behind her, giving Wax just a moment to think.

That could have gone worse.

 

---

A little while later, Juno emerged again.
"Uh, hey."

"Ravine send you out?"

"N-No, I just..." They stepped over, keeping their arms close by their sides.
"I just wanted to apologize. I-I know she can come off as rude, but she really doesn't mean it."

"No, she's fine- she was within her rights to call me out."

They leaned on the balcony railing.
"I guess that... I-I just wanna know..."

A mist surrounded Juno, eventually clearing to reveal a smug snake corvice in a vest.
"...How was that?"

"...Impressive."

They grinned. "Thank you, I try."
Blink swiveled back around and gracefully took a seat, crossing their legs.

"You're Blink, then."

"In the flesh."

"That should come in handy, should you get the job."

"You think so?"

"I mean, it's a versatile ability. As versatile as it gets, really."

They were clearly basking in the praise.
"I could do you, if you'd like! Just a bit smaller."

"Go ahead, I'm curious."

Fog appeared, showing off a Wax about six and a half feet tall when it cleared, mimicking his sitting position.
"As versatile as it gets, really." Wax's voice came out of the figure, with perfectly-emulated cadence to boot.

"Not bad."

The figure bowed, then changed back.
"Was there anything else you needed?"

"I want to know a little bit more about you, not just your abilities."

The snake sat down, leaning back confidently. "By all means, ask away."

"What do you find most intriguing about this job? I mean, you know so little."

"I'd say having very little info is intriguing, wouldn't you? Even moreso now that I know it's being offered by a high god such as yourself."

"Besides, you're offering a hefty sum. I'm sure I can handle whatever you need."

"So the fact that a high god is offering only tempts you further? No intimidation whatsoever?"

"You don't seem intimidating to me, I believe I'm in good company."

"That comforts me, I worry I got off on the wrong foot with the previous two."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Ravine seems to find my techniques… it's hard to say, and I think I scared Juno senseless."

"There's nothing abnormal about that with Ravine. If you've still got your head on, then I'd say you did fine!"

They crossed their arms, propping their chin on a claw. "Granted, you scaring Juno probably made Ravine more wary of you. She'd never admit it, but she's rather protective of them. Which is unfortunate for you, since I'm sure Juno would've been nervous no matter what you said."

"A warning could have helped things, or may have made them worse. Who can say, really! But, I understand the need for secrecy."

"There's no way I could have put my name on the job request."

"Correct, though, your assistant could have let Juno know before sending them in. And they diiiid decide to send Juno in first, before the rest of us." 

"Not the best move, I'd say."

"I'll make note of it for the future… I don't want to cause anyone undue stress. There's going to be plenty of that on the job."

The corvice adjusted their glasses.
"Since you brought it up:  What would you like us to do, Wax?"

"I need you to find someone. Who exactly, I can't tell you unless you get job confirmation."

"Sounds simple enough." They leaned in a little closer. "But I'm guessing the 'who' is a much larger part of this, isn't it?"

"Very much so. I'm sorry that I can't tell you more, but to call it delicate is an understatement."

They waved a claw. "Not an issue at all."

"Did you have any questions for me either, by the way?"

"What's your impression of us so far? I can't say I'm not curious."

"I'm just a little over halfway through, but… I like you. You have a good variety of skills and personalities, and adaptability will be key to this job."

"Well, I can certainly say I'm adaptable!" They smiled, pleased with their own joke.

"Oh, you've more than proven that." He relaxed visibly, un-tensing from his earlier encounter with Ravine. "I think we can send the next one in- thank you again, for talking with me."

"Of course!" They stood. 
"The pleasure was all mine." Blink placed a claw to their chest.

"I have to ask:  which of the other two is coming in next?"

"If I tell you, will you just mimic them?"

"Oh, please, I only needed to do that once. It's purely curiosity."

"Pulse, then."

"Better luck of the draw, then."

They leaned in to whisper, as if they were standing right next to Wax.
"Just keep it very short. They aren't fond of meeting new people. ...And don't say anything to make them upset. Very important."

"Thank you. I'll do my best."

"You'll do fine."
"And a little confidence wouldn't hurt, hm?"
With a wink and a wave, Blink made their way back inside.

He couldn't help but tense up again. "Confidence. Right."

 

---

An amerveille stepped out in a button-up shirt, and took a seat.
Their paws were perched firmly on their legs, a distance in their eyes, as if they were looking straight through Wax.
"Pulse."
"You're Wax, I take it?"

"That's correct. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise."
They hardly moved, speaking flatly.
"Wax, I would very much like to answer any questions you have, and move on. I don't mean any offense, but I would rather not be here longer than I have to. It has nothing to do with you specifically."

"That's fine, and I respect that. I'll keep things brief."

"I'd very much appreciate that. I can elaborate as to why, if necessary, though I will keep details vague."

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to hear it. Feel free to be as vague as you need, I won't pry."

"I've had direct contact with an angel," they started, leaving room for initial response first.

He simply nodded, listening carefully.

"...Since then, strong emotional reactions can cause sudden, drastic, adverse side effects in myself and those around me. The effects aren't physically dangerous, necessarily, but it isn't something to be taken lightly."

"I have no idea how it would affect you, in particular, it has never happened while in close proximity with a god before. I believe it’s best not to risk that."

"Hopefully that makes things a little clearer."

"Understood entirely. Angel effects are not something I take lightly, and I'll do my best to tread carefully."

"It's appreciated."
Despite this, Pulse didn't seem relaxed in the slightest.

"Are you comfortable with jobs that require tracking people, even in extreme circumstances?"

"Yes. I've had some experience with that. Not as extensive as Ravine or Blink, but I believe with their assistance we could perform that kind of job well."

"And do you have any fears about working with a high god?"

"From what I've read about you, no."

"And what about other high gods, potentially?"

They looked a little curious, their first display of emotion since entering the room.
"Who?"

"...a friend, of mine. Someone dear to me."

"...Teraphim?"

"I knew them very well."

"I'm not sure how you expect us to... find..." Their eyes darted left and right for just a moment, as if they were reading something.
"...You have a lead, then?"

"As much of one as I could find. You'll understand that I can't tell you more unless you get the job for certain, I assume."

"I understand."

"So I return to the question- are you okay with this job, knowing that now?"

"Do you believe they might be hostile?"

"I… don't know. It's been some time."

"We can handle ourselves, but you are potentially pitting us against a high god. If Teraphim is aggressive, people could..."

A twinge of strange energy radiated from Pulse, something unlike Wax had ever experienced before; entirely alien in all senses.
It dispersed as suddenly as it came.
"...It could be dangerous."

He was practically sweating wax droplets at the twinge, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. "Measures will be taken to help as much as we can with that, should you get the job."

"...Do you believe they want to be found, Wax? That’d make a significant difference."

"I don't know… I'm sorry."

They breathed in and out, slowly.
"I would take this job, if you offer it. We would attempt to talk things over, if at all possible. Explain the situation, and what it is you want."

"I'm assuming you don't want us to capture them or anything else drastic."

"But if that alone sparks hostility, to the point where Teraphim gets physical, I won't hesitate to protect those I'm with. I stated already that these... effects are not generally physically harmful, but with a high god-” They trailed off.

“...Is that something you're willing to risk?"

"...yes."

"I don't want to talk your ear off, especially after you've mentioned the effects of your condition, but I have fewer and fewer people I can say that I am truly close to, with every passing century. Even just knowing that they're out there, and that they're okay…"

"...that would be something."

They watched Wax for a little while. 
Another twinge felt, more brief this time.
"I understand."

"I hope that's not unreasonable, then."

"As I said, I would take the job."

"Then I think we're wrapped up."

They stood up and gave a small bow.
"Thank you for your time."

"And thank you for yours. You can send in the last one now."

"I'll be sure to."
Pulse left the balcony.

He let out a sound like a huge exhale, massaging his forehead. 
Please, let the next one be relaxed.

 

---

A pockitt with exaggerated eye-bags entered the balcony, giving Wax a wave immediately.
"What's up?"

They stood by the edge, looking the god over.

"Not much, aside from these interviews… though I'm sure I'll be back to being buried under piles of work after."

"Should have some fun in your free time, then."

"Wanna fight?" they asked nonchalantly.

"Um… I don't know if that'd be a good idea."

"Why not? You don't gotta worry about me." They rolled their shoulder back, already stretching in preparation.

"I can't exactly move much, or I'll end up causing earthquakes."

They rubbed the back of their neck, looking aside in thought.
"Let's go somewhere else then. How 'bout it?"

"...I can't leave the mountain either, or I'll create even more earthquakes."

They sighed. "You don't have like, some underground place for you to stay or something that's bigger? You're a god, can't you just make stuff?"

"Doesn't quite work like that, I'm afraid."

"So you just sit here like... all the time, then?"
"Bet your legs are cramped to hell. Probably not good for your back, either, bud."

"It's not so bad, when you get used to it. God knows I've had time to."

"Doesn't mean you can't make it better. Seems like it kinda sucks." They shrugged.

"Anyways,"

"How 'bout this:  I can come at you, you can try and push me away. If I get a hit in, you give us the job. Sound good?" They looked genuinely excited, despite their exhausted appearance.

He raised a brow. "If you jump off the balcony, you're going to fall and hurt yourself. I'm a few miles up."

"Oh noooo, like I've never had a broken leg before. Pfft." They rolled their eyes.

"I'll be fine, I can make that jump."
"If not, I get hurt. No big deal."
"High pain tolerance."

"...you'd break a lot more than your legs at this height."

"Eh." they shrugged.
"Catch me if I fall, then. You're right there."

Pepper poised themself down low, as if this had already been decided. 
"You ready?"

"Please do not fight me."

"Aw, c'mon! You really think I'm gonna hurt you? You'll be okay, promise."

"And it'll be fun. Right?"

"I would just rather you save your energy for the job. Should you get it."

"I got coffee." they stated matter-of-factly.

Wax looked like he could use a coffee himself right about now.

"And adrenaline. 'Should you fight me.' " they added, slightly mimicking Wax's voice, albeit playfully rather than insulting.

"Pepper, I am pleased to make your acquaintance and appreciate your offer, but I am not fighting you..." He got a devilish look in his eye. "...Today."

They smiled wide, narrowing their gaze. 
"Tomorrow, then."

"No. How about… if you complete the job- if you get the job in the first place. I will fight you then."

"I'm holding you to that, y'know."

"Plus, you're gonna give us the job."

"What makes you so certain?"

"Tell me I'm wrong, then. Have you had a problem with anybody so far? C'mon, I'm not stupid."

Pepper started counting on their claws.
"Everybody likes Juno, don't tell me that you didn't."
"Ravine probably scared you, god or not - no need to be ashamed."
"Blink is really full of themself, but charismatic as all hell, so I'm sure they got you good."
"And Pulse is like eight seconds away from initiating a regional disaster at all times, but they're professional and there's no way you didn't see that."

They pointed at themself with their thumb.
"And I'm Pepper. So,"

"You're gonna hire us."

"...very apt observations."

"Yup."
"Sooo, anything else you want from me, or are we good to go? Got questions or whatever?"

"Well, as you've said, you've made a solid impression already."

"Cool. And you know I'm gonna get the job done."

The pockitt pointed at him.
"Cause I really wanna fight you."

"Then you'll have to rise to the challenge. But… I have a good feeling about this." He tilted his head to the side, a slight smile in his voice. "You can tell the rest of your team that you have all successfully passed."

"Great. We'll be back when it's done, then."
With that Pepper waved on their way out the balcony door.



Only to return moments later.

"...Also, what's the job?"

[A_Mi_Manera]

"Coach" - Crankshaft One Shot feat. Lex. 
 

---

---

"Lex?!"

"Reporting for practice as always, Coach."

"You're supposed to be resting Lex."

"I'll be fine, I can pretty much do anything but spar right now right?

"Lex....."

Dennis "Coach" Rentbaker is a long time family friend and training partner, one who has always been active in supporting your particpation in contact sports. Whether it be rugby or your long time passion, dueling, he's there with a stick of jerky in his pocket and the chops to scream at you to get that extra situp in. Right now he's holding back a urge to scream at you in front of the entire gym.

"I'll be fine Coach, this isn't the worst state I've gone to practice in."

"Your arm is fractured. No."

"It's a small one, not even the worst I've had."

"I don't want you getting tempted to pick fights with other people at the gym. You're not gonna be able to back it up because your arm is bad and feel worse when you get dropped."

"I don't do that anymore, I'm 23 now."

"Didn't stop you from screwing around like a bonehead."

His eyebrows scrunch as he narrows onto your arm in a sling.

"I thought I could trade fine!"

"Construct massively out of weight class from a bigger circuit. You thought you could block a hit from that?"

"I mean... maybe. I got him pretty good so..."

"He got you worse. He went home with a few dents that he'll smooth out by next weekend. You're gonna lose most of this season."

"That's why I'm here though, there's stuff I can do with one arm right?"

"You should rest.... besides, I didn't think you'd come so I promised coaching time to a few others."

"You gave away my slot?!"

"I thought you'd be at home watching cassettes or maybe visiting your mom and pop. When's the last time you've done that actually?"

"Uh... a too long ago. I should do that more, they're probably worried..."

"Yeah, you should. They remodeled a little bit recently and their place is gorgeous."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Honestly you got the time now to spend time with them right? Friends and family? Wouldn't be a bad time to do that."

"Yeah.... I don't want to have to play catch up though, I'm already a little behind on things from just a couple of weeks of resting."

"Lex, it'll all be here when you return. You can spar to your heart's content once a doctor goes and says you're good."

"I mean... can I at least watch?"

"Lex...."

"I don't got much else going on right now. Only friend around is busy til evening most days, haven't told parents about my arm-"

"You haven't?!"

"I don't want them to worry! I know they won't want me to keep doing this if they knew I got hurt like that. They'd get scared..."

"Lex, you're old enough that it shouldn't matter. They can't say no anymore, you can't avoid them for what... almost three months?"

"Yeah....." 

"There's a birthday coming up too. Your dad is gonna be hell upset if you don't show up for that."

"I know.... I just don't want this to be weird. All of it."

Coach contemplates in silence.

"I know this is important to you, and I know you don't wanna miss out. I'm gonna stand firm on telling you no to practice right now but you're welcome to watch from the side, maybe do some jogging to keep your movement going.  Just do NOT spar. The moment you pick a fight with someone here you're out til next season."

"I mean.. that's better than just sitting at home so I'll take that-"

"I still want you to take full resting days, and I want you to tell your parents. Water it down if you gotta, say it was a freak accident, malfunctioning tool, whatever. Just let them know your arm was injured but you're gonna be okay. I'll vouch for you."

"Yeah..."

"You gonna be okay for that?"

"I'll be terrified honestly..."

"Talk to them over call if it's easier, make sure you don't sound like a death when you tell them. They gotta know it's fine and you'll get better."

"Okay."

"They'll phone me so try not to stretch the truth too hard, I don't want to be sucker punched with a question about a train crash. You tell them you either got in a fight off the record or a accident happened in training so we're on the same page."

"I can do that. Thanks for listening to all that.... and letting me stay."

"It's not my gym so I technically can't kick you out anyway. I gotta get back to coaching soon, you can watch all you want. Cooler over in the corner is mine, I got drinks and towels in there if you need them. When your arm heals I'll catch you up to speed on whatever you missed."

"That means a ton-"

"Don't worry about it."

You sat in for the entire session.

[Zenthis]

---

Imperfect Reflection - 2020
Ringor Mortis + Zenthis, general morbit
CW: discussion of deaths
A glance at alternate timlines

---

Timothy sat down at his desk with a cup of tea and a book, the hallucinations that had started back when he saw that... thing had been getting darker and he felt the need to do something relaxing.

 
The first page of this chapter was familiar, but the second...seemed off. It didn't line up with the plot thread established even in the last few pages, and the character names weren't consistent at all.

 
Timothy blinked and sighed, "Not this again," they mumbled. They had hoped that it would calm down long enough for them to read a book but it seemed that even that was being made difficult. They closed the book with a frown.

 
The title of the book seemed to blur slightly, the author's name completely different.

 
They frowned, pushing the book away from them and rubbing their temple. "Stupid hallucinations won't even let me read today," they said under their breath.

 
One of their hands seemed to move in vision alone, their actual hand staying put- it fumbled around, searching for something in their bag.

 
Timothy winced, they knew that whenever they saw that big of a difference that their vision was about to get weirdly disjointed.

 
Their weird not-hand finally found a notepad, sloppily getting it on the table and starting to scrawl in almost illegible handwriting.
Wh are you mesing up my book??!

 
They stood in surprise and turned to start walking away, but they could somehow still see their desk and notepad. "It's never been this bad before..." they mumble to themself.

 
Oh god please st dow

 
They stopped. They weren't entirely sure why, but they decided to do what the hallucinations asked and sat back down.

 
Head hurts. Plea look at paper

 
"Okay, okay!" They said and looked back at the paper.

 
Thank you hurts when you move too much. Makes me dizzy

 
"You're welcome I guess?" They say, still unsure what to make of this.

 
Talk bac to me. Write

 
They grabbed a small whiteboard they had next to their desk and wrote on it. like this?

 
Yes. Oka good glad that works

 
this is going to be they paused, hard to explain to my therapist next week

 
No kiddig. Mine keeps tryin t put me on drugs for it bt all they do is mak me tired

 
yeah same they blink and quickly scribble; wait what even are you?

 
Tim. What are you?

 
Timothy. you know, you're awfully chatty for a hallucination

 
I'm a person

 
could've fooled me

 
Hey if I dint think you were a prson I wouldntve trid this

 
what is that supposed to mean?????

 
You hav to be a person or a ghst or somethin not a hallucination so don't call me one

 
ok I guess? "This is getting really weird." wait are YOU a ghost?

 
No, I'm Tim

 
oh yeah? if you're not a ghost then how can you see what I'm writing?

 
Same goes to you buddy, hw are you seein what I'm writing

 
I was assuming you were doing this

 
Im not controlling you

 
I didn't say you were

 
Ok lets step back and figur this out. Your name is Timothy. Mine's Tim. Idon t know if thats a coincidnce

 
well you say you're not a ghost, what are you then?

 
Told you. I'm a person.

 
what do you look like?

 
Pockitt, short, lng hair

 
same I guess

 
Then its not a coincidence

 
They took a deep breath before continuing to write, not a fan of where this was going, what are you implying?

 
What if Im you? Or you're me?

 
ok I think you lost me, or should I say you? :P They sat back pondering how strange it was to be joking with this... hallucination didn't feel like the right word anymore.

 
I don know what I saw that day but all of a suddn I started seeing what you see

 
seeing what I see? is that what's going on? I started seeing things when I saw that weird... horse... wheel... bug... thing. did that thing somehow do this to us?

 
I thin so.

 
people said my left eye changed color, so I guess it checks out? it's been hard looking at it in the mirror to check for myself though

 
Same here acually

 
yeah its weird and yellow now, apparently it clashes pretty hard with my wardrobe

 
Actually the blue works pretty ok with mine so

 
wait

 
Wait what

 
my eyes are blue. or were both blue I guess

 
I mean yellows mine so I just figurd we swapped

 
oh. sorry for calling your eye color weird

 
It's ok it's not as cool as blue

 
thanks I guess? they took a deep breath before writing, so are we like, weird mirrors of eachother or something?

 
I think so. Whatever tha was messed us up

 
no kidding. wait, if my hallucinations have just been what you see this whole time they trailed off, needing to steady themself before writing; I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry.

 
It's... There was a moment of hesitation. Fine.

 
if we are actually mirrors of eachother, then I know enough about us to know that that's a lie

 
I mean

 
what

 
I don't want to think about it much anymore. It happened

 
okay, I won't pry, but I guess I'm here if you need me? not like we can really go anywhere

 
We need to figure out how to make this a little less hellish at least

 
well, if our eyes are swapped, they pause, I'm gonna test something they put their hand over their left eye.

 
I can't see

 
They moved their hand back down and wrote howre you writing then?

 
I can see through my eye but not yours

 
I figured, I was joking

 
They did the same in turn, covering their left eye.

 
ok I can't see what you're doing anymore but my depth perception is shot

 
They removed their hand. So eyepatches are out

 
not necessarily, it's not like this is any better than a lack of depth percetion

 
Good point

 
I think I would prefer the eyepatch actually, what about you?

 
I guess I could get used to it. We're gng to get weird questins though

 
we could say the color change was an early symptom of an infection that caused blindness or somthing

 
That works. People are already concerned though

 
yeah, gonna feel bad if people are like, nice to us after this though

 
It's something we just have to deal with. People are already overly nice to me as is with the whol...yea

 
Timothy frowned, but chose not to reply to that part, well, since we still need eachother for now, I guess we should go get some eyepatches
 

---

 
Timothy frowned at the can in his hand, "Ugh, this stuff is getting more expensive every day, I swear," they muttered.

 
Tim had been quiet lately, almost enough to be concerning- even prompting him to talk hadn't gotten much response.

 
Timothy sighed and put the can back on the shelf before deciding to try to contact Tim, they grabbed the remote in their pocket and pushed the button a couple times. The light that they had installed under their eyepatch flashed twice, code for checking in.

 
There was no response, even with the time being perfect for talking- Tim had rarely ever missed a contact around this time of day.

 
Timothy hurried up his grocery trip, trying not to get too worried about Tim. Tim's tough, he reasoned, tougher than me anyway, he's probably fine... right? Maybe he's just busy.

 
Tim didn't respond for the duration of the trip, radio silence until long after Timothy had gotten home- right before bed, even.

 
The light flashed twice.

 
Timothy scrambled to grab the remote that he left in his coat pocket. When he got to it he flashed it three times, signaling that he wanted to talk with the eyepatches off.

 
Tim responded with three flashes in turn, the vision returning in his eye as he took the patch off.

 
Timothy grabbed his whiteboard and started writing furiously, where have you been? I've been worried

 
Busy

 
well is everything okay?

 
Yeah, I'm fine

 
are you sure? you've barely checked in at all

 
There was a moment of hesitation before he wrote again. It's nothing worth worrying about

 
when was the last time you were telling the truth when you told me that, Tim? I'm not stupid

 
It's the same as it was last week so it's not worth mentioning

 
that's not how this works and you know it

 
I'm not going to bother you about it when you have your life to get to

 
oh my god are you still stuck on this? WE ARE FRIENDS I WANT TO HELP YOU

 
I don't know how to get over it

 
I know, and I'm here for you

 
I just don't understand why it had to be them. Why it happened to me and not you. He stopped writing for a solid moment. I don't want it to have happened to you obviously but

 
no don't worry, I knew what you meant.

 
So much of our lives are the same but why that? Why did that change?

 
I have no idea, I honestly didn't even think that old god's cult was a problem anymore

 
What?

 
sorry I guess that was kind of insensitive

 
No, I mean, what do you mean old?

 
you know, the one that used to be god of consumption? before beacon took control

 
Used to?

 
yeah? you know, spit. our moms must've sung you those uh... really morbid nursery rhymes/cautionary tales about her. you know in hindsight those things are kind of messed up to sing to kids

 
She's not dead here

 
oh fuck

 
I didn't think things could be that different between us our worlds whatever this is

 
yeah that's they paused, unable to come up with words that felt suitable why doesn't wane kill her? that's what happened in my world

 
Went the other way here

 
what do you mean it went the other way?

 
Wane got eaten

 
that... doesn't seem logistically probable. at least not unless spit is way bigger in your world

 
No she's way too small for it to be realistic. Just what they tell us in history books

 
so wait, if wane wasn't around to give solitude to chella, then did wax pick who got it?

 
Wait why does another god have Solitude

 
wait are you telling me that rein is alive there too?

 
What the hell happened in your timeline

 
it was several hundred years ago and I wasn't exactly the best history student but rein got killed helping wane with the big horror vent incident in bluster. wane went and killed spit afterword because no one could really hold her back anymore

 
So is Velvet alive?

 
yes? why?

 
So Spit didn't eat her either. This is so weird

 
spit did what.

 
Supposedly she ate Velvet and Wane within like. A week of each other

 
that's uh... that's a pretty strong metabolism

 
I never thought it made any sense myself

 
I guess it doesn't really have to make sense, they're gods. maybe they can just do that?

 
I guess??? He set his pencil down for a moment, thinking hard before picking it back up. So, the cult isn't as big of a thing then.

 
theres a few groups of them here and there, you mostly just have to avoid the woods and dark alleys. ever since beacon let grind get involved with getting rid of them there've been less and less though

 
That explains why things seemed more...peaceful, looking through your eye

 
well it's still your eye, its just in my head now. but yeah I guess I know why what I thought were my hallucinations were so... uh... I don't know how to describe it in a way that doesn't sound rude

 
No offense taken

 
They pause for a moment, considering something before writing, now, I don't want to come off the wrong way here, but how much of this discussion was genuine interest and how much of it was you trying to avoid talking about how you feel again?

 
Bit of both

 
you can't just not talk to anyone about this. have you found a better therapist yet?

 
No offense but I'm pretty sure your timeline has better therapists than mine if your Consumption is better off

 
nah I think good therapists being hard to find is pretty much a universal constant. also I think the ones over there probably get more practice

 
Guess that's a good point. Haven't found anyone yet though...I don't know if I will, honestly


well, you can't just go on not talking to people about it

 
I'm talking to you

 
yeah, that's progress. I mean it

 
I do feel a little better. Mostly confused over how different everything is but...it's something


yeah I'm gonna have to think about... all of this. can you promise me that you'll try a little harder to keep in touch

 
Sorry about that. I'll try

 
it's fine, I just worry about you

 
Yeah well you're a big sap

 
Timothy smiles haha yeah... I guess I am

[skinstealer]

---

Homebrew - 2018/2020
Ringor Mortis + B. Comorant, Pre-Sleepwalker
No content warnings
Philly and Flynt share a late night meeting.

---

 

It’s late, way too late for anyone to be up and roaming the halls of the Luxson Biotech Facility, but as usual, there’s no rest for nighttime security. Flynt knows that most people will have left work hours ago, curfew already instated for anyone not on the night watch...but there’s always someone on overtime. 

Sure enough, there’s light coming out from under the door of a familiar room, an even more familiar name on the door. Visiting Philly for his check ups and tests after hours had become their routine for months now, and it’d become their little secret. All it took was a few loops around the main hallways before Flynt could safely say he did his job, and then it was off to see his friend and get up to, as Philly called it, “mad science shenanigans”. 

Flynt sneaks closer to the door, opening it slowly with his foot- Philly’s in the same place as always, leaning forward over some notes and completely focused on scribbling something down.  

Perfect.

The corvice plans his steps carefully, making sure not to make any audible noise on the tile. Philly’s so deep in his work that he doesn’t even notice Flynt leaning over his shoulder, practically stage whispering in his ear.

FLYNT: You're up past shift.

Philly tries not to jump out of his chair, fur standing on end. He whips around with ears back, but the playful smile on his face betrays any attempt at annoyance. 

PHILLY: And you startled me!
FLYNT: Heh. Not here to bust you, but the job needs me to ask why.

Philly leans back against the table a bit, trying to play off his surprise.

PHILLY: Boooo. What if it's secret lab business?
FLYNT: Records say they’re classified?

Philly’s expression turns smug.

PHILLY: Maybe that’s a secret too!

Flynt only returns the look even harder, used to their little game at this point.

FLYNT: And what about for a friend?


Philly turns his body back to his work, still turning his head back to talk to Flynt.

PHILLY: Just documenting our recent findings, thinking ahead.
FLYNT: Yeah?
PHILLY: Mm, we got a lot of progress out of those last few tests!

Philly’s tail wags a bit, clearly excited over his findings. 

PHILLY: It's going fabulously.

Flynt tries to peek over at his notes, unable to keep his curiosity at bay.

FLYNT: Show me.

Philly’s been sketching Flynt's head, focusing on his new teeth. He’s even put in some feather detailing and light shading, not a perfect likeness, but close. It’s halfway between casual scribbling and carefully drawn diagrams, a style that Flynt’s come to appreciate every time he sees it. He can’t help but grin a little, resisting the urge to trace along the paper.

FLYNT: Don't look like work to me.
PHILLY: It is!
FLYNT: Seems more like graphite daydreaming.
PHILLY: I'll have you know that scientific illustration is a part of my work process!

Philly flips through to another piece of paper, showing him all his drafts and notes- investigations on sludge leakage (the drooling had become a bit of an issue lately), notes on before and after stages, typos aplenty, and some sketches of Flynt’s overall body shape as it changed. He can’t help but feel shy over the last one, but Philly keeps thumbing through.

PHILLY: I can add in my own edits a lot easier with a drawing.

Philly flips through his notebook, showing prior, quicker sketches of possible outcomes for his teeth, matched to formulas and notes. 

PHILLY: It allows me to explore possibilities as well, excellent for visualization!
FLYNT: Huh. They look great.
PHILLY: You think so? 

Philly smiles wide, pleased as could be. 
PHILLY: I'm not the best, but I really like illustrating my own work. It's one of my favorite parts of the job.
FLYNT: I can only do little scribbles myself, honestly.
PHILLY: Oh, you can help me with the next part then! 
FLYNT: Don't see how I could contribute much.
PHILLY: To the contrary- we need to talk the next step, and your input is vital.
FLYNT: ...Alright.
PHILLY: Scoot in a bit! I've been brainstorming. 

Philly rifles through one of his other notebooks, trying to find a new, fresh page. Flynt dusts the seat next to him and scoots in, perching in true corvice fashion. 

PHILLY: So, first things first...how have the mods been treating you? Teeth aching at all, strength staying consistent?
FLYNT: Been different, but mostly fine.
PHILLY: Different how?

Philly switches from his charcoals to a pen, clicking the end, completely ready to write down notes-

FLYNT: Like this. 

Flynt playfully clamps onto the dog's face with his teeth, not enough to hurt. Philly turns all red, laughing as best he can with a bird latched onto him. Flynt lets go quick, but it’s still enough for Philly to look like an embarrassed mess.

PHILLY: Sh-sharp! They're sharp, you nerd! 

Flynt’s expression is painfully smug.

FLYNT: That good or bad? 
PHILLY: Good! 
PHILLY: I mean, that's what we were going for! 

Philly tries to regain his composure, coughing. He gives a thumbs up, avoiding eye contact.

PHILLY: Sharp is really good. It's good. 

He finally gets himself together, trying to get back into proper science mode.

FLYNT: That the goal?
PHILLY: They're certainly holding up well, and if you don't have any aches, I'd say we're doing great. 

Philly scoots out of his chair quickly, making his way to his trusty coffeepot. His tail wags behind him, and Flynt can’t help but get the feeling that he’s just using it as an excuse to cool down.

FLYNT: You're gonna be antsy when you get to bed you know.
PHILLY: It'll be fine! I haven't even hit my usual dose of liquid energy yet. 
FLYNT: Caffeine is the world's most celebrated drug.
PHILLY: For very good reason! 

Philly downs half of his mug and settles back down, face finally back to its usual color. 

PHILLY: And your personal feelings on how things turned out?
FLYNT: There's a nice feel to it.

Philly lights right up.

PHILLY: Awesome. That's a job well done in my book.
FLYNT: You think it looks good?
PHILLY: It suits you perfectly.

Flynt fusses with his teeth, hand on his lower jaw. Philly tries not to stare, shuffling his notes around. 

PHILLY: S-so, the next step. Are you ready to talk another mod?
FLYNT: Depends what you got.

Philly spreads his arms wide, his grin returning. 

PHILLY: I was thinking we go big. What's something you wish you could change, anything at all.
FLYNT: Got a selfish one.
PHILLY: Even better. I want this one to be special to you.

Flynt pulls up his sleeves, revealing scars- Philly’s seen them before, but they’ve always been something untalked about, and he’d never felt right asking.

FLYNT: Wings got jacked up a while back. My nerves never healed just right. Cold stings, don't feel anything like I used to. 

Philly extends his hand, tapping the tips of Flynt’s wings. 

PHILLY: Restorative transformation...possible. Possible, but incredibly difficult…
FLYNT: What are the challenges? 
PHILLY: Healing using horror is a bit tricky.  Getting targeted transformations like we've been doing, like the strength enhancements and the teeth, that's fairly easy stuff- they're common mutations. 
PHILLY: Mutations aren't a one time deal either, so to restore the nerves and tissue, you'd have to, well...create a regenerative one.
FLYNT: In short? 
PHILLY: If I could pull it off, you'd be able to regenerate any damaged tissue, not just your wings. Sludge, shell, if it got fucked up, you'd be able to heal it faster, and with a way lower chance of scarring.
FLYNT: I'd be like some type of comic book character.
PHILLY: Dove would absolutely freak.

The two of them share a knowing glance, Philly’s smirk matching Flynt’s snickering. 

FLYNT: Think she'd be all for it?
PHILLY: Oh my god, are you kidding me?

Philly can’t help but laugh. 

PHILLY: If she catches wind of this idea, she'll make me do it- if not to you, then to her!
FLYNT: Think she'd abuse it? 
PHILLY: I fear her power as it is, she doesn't need regeneration! 
FLYNT: We might end up creating the worst antihero the world's seen.

Philly only laughs harder, Flynt joining in- it’s moments like this that the two of them hold onto, and it’s some time before they’re able to catch their breath and get back to work. 

PHILLY: But as for you...would you do it? You can't take this kind of thing back, and it's got a catch or two.
FLYNT: Let me hear the catch. 

Philly rubs his temples, thinking over the ramifications.

PHILLY: This kind of mutation would be like...it's the top tier. The highest we can safely go, and unfortunately, at what we know now, we can't just isolate the regen. It'd have to come with another mutation, a big one, and there'd be serious side effects.

The mood of the room changes quickly, Flynt solemn as he lets it sink in.

FLYNT: Not dropping from this project, but I gotta think on that one.
PHILLY: I can probably package it with a mutation of your choice, but there's not much I can do about the stuff that comes with it. It'd have to be a really big change, too.
FLYNT: Can you crunch what can happen down?

Philly speaks with huge hand gestures, doing his best to articulate.

PHILLY: Hunger and issues regulating emotions are the big ones- I can minimize the latter, but the hunger's not going anywhere.
PHILLY: With your current mutations, you're not really affected, but the further you go, the more you'll need to eat. 
FLYNT: How much more?
PHILLY: You'd have to snack regularly, maybe squeeze in an extra meal.
FLYNT: Heads would probably kill me over that.

Philly’s face turns excited, hands clasped. 

PHILLY: I could cook for you!

His blush returns as soon as he says it, embarrassed at his own outburst.

PHILLY: I mean, if you'd want. They give me plenty of food money to order from up top.
FLYNT: Think I already got something in mind.

Philly’s ears perk up.
 
PHILLY: Yeah?

Flynt clamps his beak on Philly’s face again, unable to keep himself from blushing this time- it’s a little too close to, well...a kiss, for him not to. Philly makes a puppy whine, his voice muffled.

PHILLY: Nooo! No eating the master scientist!!

Flynt lets go just enough to talk, still staying close. 

FLYNT: Your experiments backfired.
PHILLY: Betrayal at the hands of my finest work!
FLYNT: The creation rebels against the creator.

Philly grabs Flynt’s beak with both hands, holding it shut with a devilish expression. 

PHILLY: Can I take this sudden chomping fit as a yes? 

Flynt wiggles out of his grasp easily, the scientist letting go as soon as he went to talk.

FLYNT: When we got it figured out a bit more, yeah.
PHILLY: And thaaaat…

Philly pokes through his notes and slides over a page of scientific drawings, mostly rough sketches of Flynt, including his build, proportions and current mods. They’re more refined than the ones Flynt got to peek at earlier, but still sketchy around the edges.

PHILLY: Is why I have these! You said you could do doodles, right? 

Flynt droops a bit, not confident in the slightest.

FLYNT: Don't see how I'd do much better than you in this bit.
PHILLY: You know what you want better than I would! I mean, I can try to draw based on description here, but you can draw right on top of these. I have copies.

Philly plunks a pen down for him, giving him a reassuring look. Flynt takes it slowly, looking down at the notes.

PHILLY: I can always work on refining the idea, but I want it to be yours.

It’s quiet for a moment as Flynt thinks it over. 

FLYNT: Maybe... something that'll help me get around easier. Something tougher.
PHILLY: Tougher's a guarantee, I wouldn't mod you with something that wouldn't last.
FLYNT: I want something better than before.
PHILLY: Well, you said you're not happy with your wings…

Flynt glances down at his wing, unable to stop thinking about the scars underneath his top

FLYNT: They're not in great shape.

Philly starts taking notes, only looking up to check his expression.

PHILLY: So, how would you fix ‘em up?
FLYNT: Make them more practical I guess. Something that can do heavy lifting.

Philly sticks his pen in his mouth for a moment, flipping to check an older page. 

PHILLY: Why not arms? Hands'll do you a lot better than those wings if you want to lift shit. 

Flynt extends a wing, wiggling it around. 

FLYNT: Don't got bones.
PHILLY: Don't need ‘em! 

Philly zips up out of his chair and zooms back with a large book in hand, slamming it on the table and opening it to a marked tab.

PHILLY: Let's see......

He flips through pages until he gets to an illustration of a cat-like corvice, complete with fur and large claws. 

PHILLY: Tada! Mammal morph corvice! They've got arms just fine, no bones needed!
FLYNT: Don't think I've seen one in this part of the lab.
PHILLY: Nope, they're more common on Fallow's Island! Neat though, huh? 
FLYNT: Fallow's island must be wild.
PHILLY: When we've made it big on this research, I'll take us. You, me, Dove. 
FLYNT: It nice?

Philly nods.

PHILLY: Pictures and video don't do it justice. Hell, if we can pull this off, we'd be able to travel there pretty often. This kind of research...it'd change the world.

Philly smiles, folding his hands together and leaning on them. 

PHILLY: But, if these mods help you out, that's more than enough for me.
FLYNT: Win-win if we do this, then.
PHILLY: As long as you're up for the side effects and piles of tests, I'm confident I can pull it off.

Flynt leans in, solemn.

FLYNT: Can I trust you?

Philly softens, his face both honest and serious.

PHILLY: I'll give this everything I have, and then some.
FLYNT: And we'll make it work?
PHILLY: Through anything.
FLYNT: Then I trust you.

Philly grins wide, trying not to wiggle in excitement.

PHILLY: Sounds like we've got a lot of late nights ahead, huh?
FLYNT: That's not a excuse to stay up until 6. 
PHILLY: Flyyyyynt...
FLYNT: I mean it.
PHILLY: Flyyyyynt, it's fiiiine.
FLYNT: Don't need you blowing it during the daytime or getting hurt.
PHILLY: Fiiine...just…

Philly starts gathering his papers up, his hand lingering a bit away from one of Flynt's wings. 

PHILLY: A little longer, alright?
FLYNT: Just don't be jittery in the morning. Take care of yourself.
PHILLY: I have to be in top condition to pull this off, right?

Philly smiles and goes to take a drink of his coffee, head slightly tilted in Flynt’s direction.

PHILLY: I promise, I won't go too overboard.

Flynt pushes the mug down a bit, getting a pout out of Philly.

FLYNT: That means control your coffee intake too.
PHILLY: Fine, but don't expect me to go cold turkey! Takes time to wean off of this stuff.
FLYNT: Heh, when do we start then?
PHILLY: If somebody wasn't so insistent we head to bed, I'd say tonight...but tomorrow should be good...

[Zenthis]

 

---

Under the Sea - 2020
Zenthis, Egress
CW: discussions of potential death
An ordinary day for some.

---

Terza woke up and rolled out of bed. Or at least they tried to, their bedmates shifted around during the night and now someone was right where they had tried to roll.
 
“Oof, dang it Terza,” a voice muttered, “This is the fourth time you've woken me up this week.”

“Yeah well, you need the wake up calls anyway,” Terza said, clacking her teeth together with a smirk.

“Stop clacking, it's not that funny. And get off,” said Arto, the currently squished Gremlin.

“Alright you big grump,” they said, walking across Arto and hopping off the bed.

“Ugh, you absolute brat,” Arto said, rolling over and jokingly saying “I'm going back to sleep.”

“Oh no you're not, we're on duty today,” said Terza, grabbing Arto by the scruff and pulling them off the bed of insulation and chair foam.

“Ohhhh noooo, it looks like my legs don't work and you'll have to carry me the entire way,” Arto said, flexing their clearly functional legs.

“Oh my god you're such a butt.”

“You're such a butt.”

At that, Terza dropped Arto, “Alright lazybones, we're here.”

Arto got to their feet and stretched with a few loud pops. “Yeah well,” they say, loudly cracking their neck, “It's not like we were far to begin with anyway.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“What does your face have to do with anything?”

A voice called out from the makeshift room in front of them, ”Both of you knock it off! You know the rules, no tomfoolery is permitted here.”

A wizened Gremlin stood in the doorway, standing on three unsteady paws, the fourth rummaging around in a pack on their back, “Honestly,” they said, “It’s like you’ve never done this before. Look just… get in here before someone less kind than me sees you messing around.”

“Oh come on, there’s no need to be that way, Gauss,” Arto said, following them into the chamber, “This has been a pretty good month all things considered, you need to relax.”

“A pretty good mon-” Gauss started to say, their wiry tail drooping even further “You… you didn’t hear what happened this morning?”

“No? We just woke up before getting here,” said Terza.

“Oh, oh no. I don't know how to say this but...” Gauss took a deep breath before continuing, “We lost contact with Settlement 12 after they sent out a transmission about a giant horror. It is... presumed gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean gone? Is everyone there..?” Terza trailed off.

“We've told some of our scavengers to check out the area. They aren't back yet. Look, you should just get to your job, this is... being handled,” they said, sighing heavily.

“But... we have friends there!”Arto said loudly, “You can't expect us to just... sit here and wait can you?”

“You are not the only one who knew the people there.” Gauss said, bitterly, “But we all have our own jobs to do, and you know yours. Get to it.”

Arto nodded solemnly, Terza looked like they were about to say something before turning around and entering the cockpit, grabbing Arto again and dragging them in too.

Once inside the cockpit, Terza's eyes darted around, taking note of the state of the place. The glass window was cracked in several places and taped over several times, not fully managing to stop pools of sugar water from forming on the instruments. Terza stepped in one of the many puddles on the ground and grimaced.

“Ugh, I hate being assigned here,” they said, shaking their paw to get the sticky muck off, “Why can't the council move them somewhere else?”

“And how exactly would you move them? They're practically bolted down, and they don't really... count as metal.” Arto replied, grabbing one of the wire brushes out of the bucket by the entrance.

“Well, just because I personally don't know how to move them doesn't mean the council couldn't find a way,” they mumble, grabbing a chisel and striking it into the crystals growing on the sleeping god in front of them. “Besides, I feel like how wet this room is becoming should be grounds enough to wake them so they can move their own damn self.”

“Terza, there's no need to be so disrespectful,” Arto said, sighing.

“Sorry, it's all just... getting to me again.”

“Hey do you need to take a break for a bit? I can handle this for now.”

“I'm fine. Well, fine enough. Look, Arto, you don't need to cover for me all the time, I can scrape some fuckin' crystal deposits just fine on my own.”

“Y-”

“Sorry. I shouldn't've-”

“No, it's fine.” Arto nudged them reassuringly, “Look, are you sure you don't need a break?”

Terza sighed deeply and hesitated a moment before responding. “You can't keep looking after me like this. You need to take a break sometimes, too.”

“I'll take a break when we all get to the surface.”

“That's not- you can't just...” Terza sighs deeply, “Do you really think it's real? I mean,” Terza rapped the chassis of the god in front of them with their tail, “Turbine here is the only one of us who's seen it.

“Well, we gotta believe it is, or else what else are we fighting so hard to survive for?”

“Yeah... yeah.”

Arto raised their brush and began scraping off some small sugar barnacles that had begun accumulating on one of Turbine's legs. Terza took their chisel and began working again in silence.
 

---

 

“See, what I don't get,” Arto said, chewing loudly on a piece of scrap metal, “Is why they don't just make a new air pump instead of just fixing that piece of shit that keeps breaking down.”

“Uh... I dunno dumbass,” Terza said, taking small nibbles of seat leather, and eyeing Arto's plate hungrily, “Maybe because making a new one would take a fuckload more resources than we got right now. They ain't gonna drop everything and make us a new pump just because the clangs make it hard for you to get your beauty sleep.”

“Hey, those clangs keep everyone from getting their beauty sleep.” Arto said with a laugh, passing a chunk of scrap over to Terza.

Terza brought the scrap close to their teeth then grimaced, “Ugh, my fur is still too wet for me to eat this. Looks like I'm still stuck with leather and insulation. God I wish that the magic we use for eating wasn't also disabled by water. I don't need most of my magic day to day, so that's whatever, but I am so tired of being unable to eat metal for an hour after stepping in a puddle.”

“Well, it could be worse, you could be stuck with some of that fake leather shit. That shit's nasty.”

“It's not so bad, well, not much worse than this anyway, my friend Karsk, from Settlement 12 really likes...” Terza's voice trailed off and they took another bite.

“Hey, we don't know for sure what happened yet, they could be ok.”

Terza growled, “Don't. You can lie to yourself, but please don't lie to me.”

“But-”

“But nothing!” Terza spat, their hackles rising, “It's not going to be alright! It is never going to be alright, that is just how it is here.”

“Terza.”

“What?”

“You're doing it again.”

Terza blinked, and their expression loosened, “I... I am, aren't I? I shouldn't have- I'm sorry.”

“You've been stressed lately, it's fine.”

“It's not fine,” Terza said, starting to raise their voice again, before realizing what they were doing, and speaking again, but quieter, “It's not fine. I keep saying awful things to you and getting so
angry! I need to do something about this, about me.”

“What you need is food, and probably therapy, but we only have access to one of those at the moment. How's your fur?”

“It's... dry enough now, I think.”

“Good, here,” Arto said, passing Terza a chunk of a gyroscope.

Terza looked at it with wide eyes, “You can't give this to me! This is the good shit, you should eat it yourself.”

“Nah, I'd rather share it.”

“But I don't deserve-”

“Terza.”

“Okay.”

Terza pulled off a piece and began nibbling on it, purring as they do.

“Thank you Arto.”

“You're welcome.”

“Do you think the people in Settlement 12 made it out alright?”

Arto sighed and looked out the window, gazing into the murky water that surrounded all of them.

“Honestly? Probably not, but I hope so. I really really hope so.”