[SIDESTORY] Morbit Vignettes

[skinstealer]

tiny peeks into side characters, done regularly... who knows, maybe some will become established characters?

TABLE OF CONTENTS

---

Gab- 2020
Ringor Mortis
CW: Cults, implied drugging
Gab deals with an all too familiar annoyance.

[skinstealer]

Gab- 2020
Ringor Mortis
CW: Cults, implied drugging
Gab deals with an all too familiar annoyance.

---

“Do you know why you’re here?”

Gab opens his eyes slowly, dragging himself into a sitting position. Everything stings all over, and his wrists feel like they’d been bound at some point. The room is dark but from what he can tell, completely empty aside from him. The ceilings are too low for him to stand up comfortably, and his legs hurt too much to even consider it right now anyway. 

Great. 

“...I dunno, I just woke up…”

“State your name and species.”

He feels the phantom sensation of a tail lashing in annoyance, and wishes for the millionth time that it hadn’t been cut off ages ago. 

“It’s Gab, and I have no idea.” He holds up his wrists, shaking them into the air. “Can I be untied now?”

“Not until you give us a straight answer.”

“Oh my g- my name is Gab, and there’s legitimately not a word for whatever I am.”

“Both of these facts are objectively incorrect.”

Gab rolls his eyes and lets out an exaggerated sigh, only slightly playing up his annoyance. “Look, if you’ve gone and captured me, you know who I am, and you know that I don’t like talking about things like this.”

“State your name and species.”

He tries not to growl, looking as composed as he can. “Fine. Javelin Rose, fiend.” God, he hates that word. “Are you happy now?” 

“Why do you use a false name and history?”

“Because- you already know the answers to all of this! Stop playing games with me!”

“Why do you use a false name an-”

He lets out an exasperated snarl, unable to keep himself entirely held back. “Because I want to avoid this exact situation! I imagine you’re one of those goddamn cultists out to try and resurrect me as your idol or false deity or whatever you want to make of me, and I’m not interested! I left that behind a century ago, and I don’t have any intention of going back.”

“Why do you indulge in hedonistic society?”

“Hedonistic- are you serious? I’m not even allowed to go to restaurants or clubs? Is that too unbecoming of whatever you’ve built me up to be?” He’s starting to get livid now, feeling his golden blood boil. “Well how about this-”

He spits on the ground, glaring up at the closest approximation of the voice’s location. The floor sizzles slightly, his saliva not quite acidic enough to burn through anything- but definitely not harmless.

“See! I’m filthy, unclean, exactly the opposite of what you expected! I hope you hate that, sincerely. I hope it makes you want to cry, to know that the oh-so-mighty being that you worshipped is just another disgusting person on this planet!” He shakes his wrists in the air again. “I’m clearly not what you think I am, so let me the fuck out!”

There is silence for a good few moments, Gab not breaking his glare at the room around him. He almost doesn’t notice the restraints releasing around his wrists until they fall off entirely, leaving him trying to rub the soreness out. 

“You will be sedated again, and then released.”

“What do you mean-”

He knocks out before he can retort, the exact means unknown. 

God, I hate cults.

[skinstealer]

Zeb- 2020
Miles Mortis
CW: Death, implied violence
Zeb hasn't slept in weeks.

---

Zeb’s alarm sounds, a loud ringing noise that he’s far too used to at this point. He hits the snooze button as soon as the first chime starts, already having been awake for hours. Sleep hasn’t come easy to him over the past few weeks, and he doubts it will any time soon. Tiny bursts of unplanned naps are all that the corvice has been able to manage, and he’s gotten used to it more and more with every passing day.

This is just how life is now.

He gets to his feet slowly, his fin lingering on the sword laying sheathed beside him. No need to use it all night, nor had there been on any other night- but he had to be careful. There’s no telling what kind of killer for hire will be sent after him next, or if there even will be any more to begin with. He had been assured that he’d been through the last of them, but Zeb has gone long enough in this community to know that words are empty, meaningless things without sufficient proof to back them up. 

Zeb makes his way over to his kitchenette, loading up his coffee pot and starting it up. The cheap stuff, as usual. All he needs is to stay awake. As long as he’s awake, he can fight, and as long as he can fight, he can stay alive. No one can kill him if he’s ready for it.

It feels like only a second passes before the coffee pot dings at him, yet another horrible sound cutting into his head. The coffee itself tastes even worse than it usually does, and he makes a note to himself to get some kind of light creamer when he goes out next.

If I ever go out again.

He had made the mistake of telling anyone where he lives, a rookie screw up that any other self-respecting spellblade wouldn’t dare make. Even his own mother told him as a child to never let anyone trail him back home, not when he has powers that other people, bad people, might want to obtain. He ran with those bad people instead, as soon as he was old enough, and now he has to pay for it. 

So did his mother. 

“You need to get a grip, man…” He takes another swig of coffee and runs a fin down his face, refusing to let any tears come out at the thought of his dear mother, who never did anything wrong to him in her life. She was a saint in all departments, and now, thanks to him, no one will ever know that goodness firsthand. All it took was a string of screw ups, mistake after mistake, so small in isolation but crushing in sequence, for her to become a target executed in a single strike. 

Zeb was not so kind when he returned fire. The assassin sent after the only blood he had left went down fast, but the rage in his heart did not let him send them off mercifully. The exact events are still a blur to him, lost in the moment, but he knows it wasn’t something to boast about in kind company.

These events loop in his mind over and over, the same facts haunting him now as they have been for weeks. There’s nothing to be done about it. Nothing except wait. 

And so he waits for the end.

[skinstealer]

Duelist- 2020
Ringor Mortis
CW: Creepy interactions???
Duelist needs some snacks. 

---

It’s late, and Duelist is hungry. He’s blasted through all the snacks in his apartment and can’t be assed to make himself a proper meal. No amount of flicking through channels can help keep his mind off the growing feeling of hunger, and with a frustrated grumble, he grabs his coat and heads out into the cool desert night.

Thankfully the corner store is empty aside from him and the cat at the register, this part of town usually quiet around this time of night. The cashier doesn’t even look up at him as he walks in, but he smiles anyway. They’re used to him coming in right about now, and Duelist likes to think that they have a deep understanding of each other by now. 

Duelist isn’t what most people would describe as a prize catch, and he knows it. Too scraggly, a little rough around the edges, and visibly out of place amidst Mockery’s sands. His attitude sucks and his gaze lingers too much where it shouldn’t, the dopple feeling entitled to at least a look now and again. Most people don’t even bother to know his real name, slapping his occupation on him and calling it good.  

The cashier, on the other hand, everyone seemed to like. He’s seen people come in and strike up a chat with them, acting all friendly...there’s something about the way they talk that keeps his interest piqued, and he knows that can’t just be him. People like them, they always got what they wanted, just because of how they are. He’d never understand something like that, being a lowlife and all…

He picks up a few bags of chips and starts to fill up a drink cup, keeping an eye on the register. Sure enough, they’re just standing there reading a magazine, looking completely uninterested in him. That’s where the deep understanding comes in- they know their place in the world, and he knows his. His place is to be ignored and slotted precisely into the lower rungs of the societal ladder, and theirs is to be admired. 

Maybe he could change that, though.

He smiles wide as he approaches, snacks in hand. The dopple leans on the counter as the cashier starts ringing him up without much more than a nod of acknowledgment.

“So...how’s life?”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, I dunno, just making small talk.”

“It’s...fine, I guess.” The karacel’s smile is forced, but Duelist doesn’t hesitate to keep going. 

“Just fine? I mean, you look like someone who has it more than just fine, am I right?”

The cashier’s ears flatten against their hair just enough to be noticed, and Duelist feels a little rush. The tables have turned, now he’s the one on top of the social ladder. 

“All I’m saying is, you’ve got it pretty much made for yourself, huh? You’ve got a charmed life working here and getting to see all your little friends-”

“Sir, I…” They swallow and gesture to the total on the register display. “Five in cash.”

“Of course, of course.” He fishes into his pocket and pulls out the bills, dropping a few extra coins as well. “Keep the change, my treat.” 

They’re silent as they bag up his snacks, the dopple taking the bag with an overexaggerated swipe.  “You have a nice night, yeah?”

“...yeah.”

With that, Duelist leaves the cashier behind, whistling to himself- they wouldn’t be ignoring him any more, and that suits him just fine.

[skinstealer]

Blitz- 2020
Ringor Mortis
No content warnings.
Blitz goes for a walk.

---

The lab is quiet this time of night, but Blitz doesn’t mind much. It’s the kind of quiet they can get behind, peaceful stillness instead of awkward silence. They’re happy to wander through the residential halls and keep their volume low, minding the curfew. Some people would pass by, doctors and workers coming back after their late shifts, and they’d wave and give a brief hello. No one seemed to mind them being up this late, probably seeing as they never cause any trouble. They wouldn’t want to do that to their mom’s reputation, after all.

They come across one of the lab’s newest additions- an indoor park. They’ve heard that the main branch in Precipice has had one of these forever, an attempt to bring some green in amidst the desert sands. Solitude’s branch was far smaller in scale and still relatively new, so priorities for getting such a thing were low...but Blitz can’t help but marvel as they step inside, caught up in the beauty of it.

There are trees of course, native to the area but made especially beautiful with string lights and careful placement. Artificial waterfalls stand out along rocky waterways, the stones smoothed to prevent any sudden accidents. Blitz carefully walks across a bridge, the stars reflecting back at them in the water. Sure enough, the top of the park is glass- a proper biodome, is what their mother had called it. They aren’t quite sure why it needs to be there, but they’d be lying if they said it didn’t look cool. 

They settle down onto a bench, their posture slouchy- it was worth the walk just to see it all like this…

I wish Transport could see this.

Their heart hurts a little at the thought, but they try to press through it. They could always bring their camera next time or something, take some pictures… they just need to save up some more money to afford the waterproof photo paper. Then, they’d be able to get pictures of everything, not just the park- the town, the shops, all of the things that Transport can’t get to…

“Who am I kidding...he probably wouldn’t want to see something boring like that.” They sigh, more feeling sorry for themself than anything. Transport had put them on another break in the relationship, once again citing the divide between ocean and land as a barrier to them being together. Blitz has the feeling that it won’t last, just as the one before hadn’t, and the one before that. The two of them were absolutely terrible at keeping away from each other, and they want to believe there’s a reason for that. 

“True love, huh…” It’d been something they’d talked about before, mainly Blitz bringing it up. Transport was always a bit more flighty than them, his interests in both hobbies and Blitz themself changing with the tides. Still, Blitz can’t help but hope… 

They’d bring him some trinkets tomorrow for his hoard, and try talking to him about what they should do together next, and maybe it’d work out. Maybe they’d feel that spark for the millionth time, and try to be happy together again.

[skinstealer]

Tas- 2020
Ringor Mortis
CW: Discussions of violence
Tas is cooped up inside again.

---

It’s not quiet out there today, and Tas has every intention of staying inside. Noise this bad means that there’s fights breaking out, and they’re not willing to become a large, sparkling target. All they can do is stay indoors, try to turn the radio up, and ignore any sounds of mauling.

Just a charmed Monte life, they guess. 

It wasn’t always like this in this neighborhood, a rare haven away from the caste-based violence breaking out. The job opportunities post-plague had been great too, and Tas, a rare karacel born and raised in Luxson, jumped at the offer. Turns out that peace only lasted a few years tops, and now they’re both out of work and for the most part, cooped up in their apartment. Doomed to live off instant noodles and jerky again.

They hope Anna’s doing alright, at least...they feel weird calling her their girlfriend still, but they guess that’s really the best term for whatever they have, and Anna was insistent that they give the label a try. It’s not that they don’t like the label itself, it’s pretty great...but it is their first time having a partner, let alone someone so mysterious. They had met a year ago when Tas was jumped in an alley by some high up octolieres, only for Anna to swoop in and dispel them before Tas could even try to defend themself. While they’re pretty sure they could have handled at least one of them, the fact that Anna was able to do it without breaking a sweat despite her smaller size left an impression, to say the least. 

They know that she fights in these caste wars, even despite their pleading for her to settle down or hell, even run away with them. They could get out of this place and move to Luxson, close to their family- but that was just it, family. Anna couldn’t bear to be apart from her own, and while she’ll never say it outright, Tas gets the feeling that she’s the only thing protecting them from higher castes picking them off. 

Tas hopes that they can get to somewhere safe together, maybe even try to get some kind of work where they can be together, sharing the daily grind and all of its troubles. They’d come here for journalism offers, but those kind of flew out the window once the news station burned to the ground. They’d considered going independent, but people didn’t take well to that kind of thing here...all the more reason, Anna would tell them. 

But Tas is still scared, worried about the risks and ramifications of putting themself out there...god knows there’s enough to report on, but so much of it is violent or downright cruel. They’ve heard plenty about people getting traumatized just from being here, let alone being on the front lines and inserting them into the sidelines of deadly fights prone to dragging in bystanders. 

Might be worth it, though...after all, Anna did always say that she’s worried about their lack of drive. Not in an insulting way, mind you- more worried than anything. 

Tas huffs and reclines back in their chair, mind swirling. It’d be something to figure out another day.

[skinstealer]

Laurel- 2020
Ringor Mortis
No content warnings
Laurel gets caught up in their theories.

---

The launch is a failure, again. None of them have ever been successes, but Laurel knows they have to stick it out on the off chance that something finally, finally breaks out of the atmosphere and lasts for more than two seconds. It’s infuriating- satellites for things like satellite television and phone calls last without a problem, but the second they send out something meant for observing what’s out there or a test for potential living astronauts, it’s destroyed within moments. 

“What’s the consistent factor...what’s the through line…” The corvice pores over their notes, sighing in frustration. “I need to find whatever’s causing these issues before the bosses have my hide…” 

Talking out loud has always helped them think, even if it’s caused more than a few awkward encounters with coworkers. It’s easy to downplay at least, and most people just laugh it off when they try to explain. Worst they’ve ever gotten is a disturbed glare or two, and those people weren’t anybody to worry about anyway. Besides, when the work is this important, any leg up in the game is worth more than the opinions of others.

“It’s always things that let us see, be it through devices or a potential astronaut. For some reason, communications are okay, but only if they still remain centric to the planet itself...but why? Why keep us so enclosed- no, stop that, not time for one of your conspiracy theories again.”

The theories themselves always seem to worm their way into Laurel’s mind, unavoidable ever since they first thought them up. It seemed so simple, too simple, and too far-fetched. It’d be an easy answer, but it’s not one that they want to believe- and it’s not like anyone’d listen to them on it to begin with. 

But still…

“I mean, if there is…something out there keeping us in, it’d have to be intelligent, or the communication satellites handling local planet stuff would be taken down as well. Even then, if it’s something sapient, why would it bother allowing us that and nothing else? Is it...amusing to them? Can they listen to us talk to each other, intercepting whatever they find interesting? Could that be the reason why we have such strange phenomenon regarding “cursed” television stations and mysterious phone calls...no, it’s too silly. That’s horror story stuff. I’m a scientist, dang it…”

But still...

“If that was the case, anyway, it’d mean we’re at the mercy of something far bigger than us, and are basically being toyed with like playthings. Even if that was true and I could prove it, who would I even tell? But...if I can prove it, and people listen, it could potentially save lives...aghhh!” 

They flop forward onto their desk, smacking their head gently against it for good measure. It always came back around to this, and they’re getting sick of it, sick of the fantasizing and making things up just because it’s interesting.

After all, everyone knew there’s no such thing as aliens.

[skinstealer]

Paycheck- 2020
Ringor Mortis
CW: Gore, body horror, death, violence
Payce tends to the community garden.

---

The garden is beautiful today, and Payce is hard at work making sure it stays that way. Thicket’s community relies on their crops, and while anyone could pitch in, they’re definitely the most active gardener around here. They find it soothing to get their massive hands dirty, uprooting weeds easily with a single claw. Harvesting berries is a little trickier, resorting to gently brushing against them with their hands until they fall off, not wanting to pull too hard and damage the bushes. 

People pass by and wave as they work, to which they always wave back- they’re a quiet sort of person, but they do their best to be friendly. God knows their appearance takes people aback...an unmutated corvice left on Fallow’s Island turns heads, especially at their age. Native corvice in their 40’s are an anomaly here, and they’re hyper aware of that fact...but they choose not to dwell on it now, not while they’re gardening.

At least, they wouldn’t if it weren’t for the sirens starting up.

They get to their feet in a swift, intimidating motion, careful not to step on any plants as they race towards the sound. Sure enough, there’s a terror halfway over the gate, with people panicking and rushing away. Payce huffs to themself and makes sure their sleeves are all rolled up, cracking their claws and getting ready for a scuffle. Other defenders are making their way over, armed with harpoon guns and nets- but the killing blow would be down to Payce, whether they managed to capture it or not.

Gardening was their escape, but this? This is their real job.

The terror makes it over the wall and falls to the ground, dazed as the sound of its body crunching echoes through the clearing. Payce knows enough to know that that’s not going to slow a hungry enough terror down, and continues rushing forward. They hear their name being called out, a startled “Paycheck!” among the citizens screaming, but they don’t pay much attention. It’s not important, not right now. 

As they get closer to the terror they can see it’s a corvice, used to be, anyway. There’s feathers torn away on its wings, revealing oozing cracks in its flexible shell. Obsessive preening, presumably. They’d seen it before so many times, and it never got any less horrible in their mind. When the plague came for their kind, everyone’s feathers, fur, scales, anything on their torsos, all of it just sloughed right off, leaving exposed shell and a moist, unpleasant texture. Some terrors never recovered from it happening, unable to stop themselves from trying to pull out whatever was left. No one knows why, but Payce has their theories. 

They don’t matter now, Payce reminds themself as their left hook shatters what’s left of the terror’s face. Sludge splatters everywhere, but it’s not enough. Corvice have no vitals, after all. The other defenders have stopped approaching as they make sure, absolutely sure, that this thing is dead. 

They don’t remember how far they get before it’s over. Someone’s draping a blanket over their shoulders and saying that they should get cleaned up, get some rest...all Payce does is nod, and walk away. 

Thicket is safe again, and that’s what matters.

[skinstealer]

Hazard-2020
Ringor Mortis
No content warnings
Hazard's off to the riverbank.

---

It’s another beautiful day in Mayday Keep, and Hazard plans on making the most of it. They start packing up their bag and humming a tune, careful not to get too much fluid on anything. The exercises the facility gave them to practice fluid retention have been working wonderfully, even if they’re a little tricky to master...but hey, with this, they wouldn’t need to wear uncomfortable gloves everywhere. 

They pick up their journal carefully, a complex-sized mini notepad and a matching mini pen to go with it. Most TCPs weren’t so lucky, having to get custom made goods just to be able to write down their thoughts. Hazard’s well aware of the fact that their typing, while coming with plenty of shortcomings and difficulties, gives them a leg up in the world at large- and they’re grateful for it. What problems they did have adjusting to well, living, were aided by the facility they spawned in, and now they’re free to pursue a life of excitement and-

As soon as they step out of their house, they’re aware of the fact that they’re being watched. It’s really not hard to tell, considering there’s a large green blob across the street, barely hidden by a neighbor’s shrub. The touch type sighs and keeps a better grip on their pen and pad, trying not to let this get the better of them. They’re just going to walk down to their favorite spot by the river, and they’re going to write a whole new chapter of their cookbook, and it’s going to be great! Nothing better!

They hear unmistakable footsteps as they stop at a crosswalk, turning around to confirm- yes, she’s still following them, and yes, she is trying (badly) to hide behind a lamppost. 

“Esther, those are TCP scale. You’re too big to be sneaky.”

The green TCP flinches but says nothing, and Hazard would have rolled their eyes if they had any. 

“Why do you even follow me every day? It’s not like I do anything super interesting, not to you at least! Do you really just want to see somebody stick their feet in the water and write about pastry? Surely you’ve got something better to do with your time.”

Esther still doesn’t respond, and the signal changes to walk. 

“Suit yourself. I’m off to get stuff done.”

They huff and cross the road, giving one last look over their shoulder before taking the turn towards the river- sure enough, there she is, debating whether to cross the street herself. They can’t resist cupping a hand and yelling across, trying to make themself audible from a distance.

“If you don’t hurry up and cross now, you’re gonna get hit by a car or a bike or something!”

Esther weighs her options before running across the road in that all fours way that she does, and Hazard can’t help but inwardly grimace. She was getting slime everywhere again, and it had to be pretty gross to get all that dirt and gravel up in there…

The slime type comes to a stop in front of them, properly rearing back up on her legs again. Her mask is slightly askew, Hazard adjusting it with a finger and getting a burbly growl in return.

“Running like that’s gonna get you all gross, yknow…”

“I am NOT gross.”

“Just...wash your hands off in the river when we get there or something, okay? Trust me, you don’t want rocks in your fluid.”

“Hmmph.” She grumps along as they both start walking, arms crossed and clearly upset that she got caught. Hazard sighs again, making sure to give her a bit of distance- Esther wasn’t the companion they planned on having today, but she’d have to do. 

It could always be worse, they guess.

[ThreadLurkingComorant]

 

A Big Thing - 2021
Comorant
CW: None
Dotty and Lex cooldown after a day together.

---

 

 Lex: Hey, you okay?

 Dotty: Why you ask?

 Lex: You're kind of just staring off into the distance. 

 Dotty: Just a little lost in thought. Kind of emotionally weird right now.

 Lex: I feel you. Anything got you feeling like this?

 Dotty: It's pretty silly.

 Lex: Tell me anyway.

 Dotty: Today's just been super good, and I don't really want that to end you know?  

 Lex: I get that. Like.... 

 Dotty: Like, I wanna just stay up all night and stuff. I wanna keep doing this and not have to   worry about work the next day. Things have been hectic for a good while with work and life   and.... I don't know.

 Lex: I feel like that all the time honestly. It's been a bit since we've really had a good day to hang out like this. 

 Dotty: Yeah.

 Lex: We really gotta make more time for this sort of thing. Haven't been as good at that   lately.

 Dotty: We do. I think that's something I need right now. 

 Lex: I'm sorry I haven't really prompted a lot of it.

 Dotty: I mean to be fair a lot of the time I end up being too busy or tired from work so like..
 It's on both of us. 

 Lex: Still. I could help out too. 

 Dotty: This is something we both gotta do and get better at together. 

 Lex: Yeah. Like... yeah.

 Dotty: Speaking of, I've got another thought floating around lately but...

 Lex: Go ahead.

 Dotty: I guess a worry is that we won't always be like this, but that feels super silly at this
 point.

 Lex: I mean... I wanna stick around as long as things allow it you know? 

 Dotty: I know.

 Lex: Like.... I can't really imagine anything else to be honest.

 Dotty: Mm...

 Lex: Is there anything that'd help you feel better about that though?

 Dotty: Maybe... it's kind of a big thing to ask though.

 Lex: Like really big?

 Dotty: No, but it's still big enough that I'd get it if you said no. 

 Lex: Okay, what is it?

 Dotty: I wanna move in together. 

 Lex: Like, now? I mean the answer is yes, but uh... who's place? Because I don't have the space and I don't think you do either?

 Dotty: That's the big thing too, we'd be looking for a new home together. It'd be a bit of a   process but-

 Lex: I'm down. As soon as the weekend hits let's start looking.

 Dotty: You're sure?

 Lex: You don't think it's been on my mind too? Absolutely. 

 Dotty: Good! I mean good. We'll start planning. I wanna do this as soon as we can.

 Lex: Can't promise you it'll happen fast, but we'll make it happen for sure.

 Dotty: Thank you, that's such a big thing for me so I'm really glad you're up for this. 

 Lex: Of course, I'm kind of surprised we haven't done this earlier honestly.

 Dotty: You never said anything and I didn't wanna push you!

 Lex: I didn't want to pressure you either!

 Dotty: God, we're both fucking dumb.

 Lex: Yeah, but we're dumb together right? That's something special.

 Dotty: Really special. Seriously, thank you...

 Lex: It's no big deal.

 Dotty: You're really the best, you know?

 Lex: Wouldn't give me that much praise.

 Dotty: You are!

 Lex: I'll take that though, just this once.


 

[ThreadLurkingComorant]

The Spar - 2020
Comorant
CW: Implied Child Abuse, Mention of Death

---

---

 Erica: Hey.

 Ali: Hey. Taking a quick breather.

 Erica: No prob. Mind if I sit with you?

 Ali: Why?

 Erica: Figured you're having a rough day.

 Ali: I mean yeah, today's been pretty shit so far. 

 Erica: I mean... yeah. 

 Ali: Can't believe mom is making us train today.

 Erica: We've got less than an hour left, once we're done we can join everyone else inside. I should probably get you
some ice though, you feeling alright?

 Ali: I'm fine. It's not a concussion if you're worried.

 Erica: You sure? At least let me take a proper look...

 Ali: Make it quick.

 Erica: Huh...

 Ali: You find it?

 Erica: Yeah.... you got a bit of a lump. 

 Ali: No thanks to you, hit me so frickin’ hard...

 Erica: I'm sorry...

 Ali: You don't wail on me because you're angry.

 Erica: I wasn't-

 Ali: No, stop. Don't give me that shit, we do this everyday and the only time you ever swing like that is when you're upset. 

 Erica: I mean... yeah.

 Ali: And I get that, I get where you're coming from but holy- just please don't take things out on me yeah? Just...

 Erica: Are you crying? Lemme get you something please-

 Ali: Shut the fuck up. I've been trying so hard not to this whole time but I can't take it right now! 

 Erica: You don't gotta hold it back-

 Ali: Yeah I do! I do because I'm the crybaby of the family! I'm the one everyone expects to fail!

 Erica: That's not true!

 Ali: It is true! Everyone expects me to just toughen up, but I haven't! Today's just the start of it getting worse
too! 

 Erica: You don't know that!

 Ali: I do! We just went through dad's service less than two hours ago and she's already got us working again! She can't keep her chill long enough to give us one day to grieve!

 Erica: Come here.

 Ali: Don't fucking hug me.

 Erica: Just let me give you a quick one. Please?

 Ali: Oh my god are you fucking crying?

 Erica: Yeah, I'm crying. 

 Ali: Why? Seriously why?

 Erica: Because you're crying and if you cry I cry. 

 Ali: This is stupid.

 Erica: Maybe.

 Ali: I don't get you sometimes. Fine just come here, I got you. 

 Erica: You sure?

 Ali: Yeah... if I don't hug you back I know I'm gonna regret that one day. 

 Erica: What do you mean?

 Ali: I dunno, I don't want to leave you hanging and just... maybe I do need it. Maybe I need it and I don't want to be
old and thinking about the time I didn't hug my sister back.

 Erica: Mm.

 Ali: I don't want any regrets like that. I'm sorry I lashed out at you, It's just too much right now.

 Erica: I get it, It really is. 

 Ali: I'm scared right now, too much is happening too fast. I don't think it's going to get any easier.

 Erica: I know.

 Ali: Don't feel remotely ready for any of this.

 Erica: Same. 

 Ali: Hoping mom hasn't noticed we've been talking instead of practicing.

 Erica: She's too busy with relatives today, we're fine. How's your head?

 Ali: I think I need that ice pack honestly. Can you get that for me once the session is done?

 Erica: I'm gonna get that for you now.

 Ali: Mom is gonna spot you.

 Erica: She'll understand if I tell her you're hurt. 

 Ali: And if she doesn't?

 Erica: Then she screams at me, but I'm getting you some ice either way.

 Ali: You really don't gotta risk your ass like this. 

 Erica: You can't stop me, anyway I'll be back quick. 

 Ali: Alright, good luck.

 Erica: Mm!

 Ali: Thanks.

[ThreadLurkingComorant]

The Spider's New Clothes - 2021
Comorant
CW: Mention of Injury
Arabis shows off his new Outfit

---

 The smell of toast, sausages, and coffee filled the Judgment house that morning.

It was a break day and as a result everyone had the time to settle for something more than just a little jam on bread before starting their daily routines. 

Zinnia was more than ready to dive in for a nice meal and banter with the rest of the family but hadn't seen or heard anything from their dear arachnid friend at all.

 They scurried over to their room, perhaps he simply slept in?

 The dog knocked on the door. 

 Zinnia: Arabis, breakfast time! Don't take too long there, yeah?

 Zinnia knocked again.

 Zinnia: Arabis? 

 Arabis yelled out from within the room.

 Arabis: A moment! I'm fiddling with something crucial!

 Zinnia: Is everything alright in there? You want me to come in?

 Arabis: ...Perhaps? I may need your input to be quite honest...

 Zinnia: Sure, the door's locked though.

 Arabis: Apologies, I'll be over in just a minute.

 The spider's steps could be heard as they approached the door, the sound of the lock clicking open before they retreated back.

 Zinnia entered somewhat cautiously, unsure what to really expect. The spider was seated on his bed, facing away from the entrance.

 Zinnia: I'm here, what's the problem?

 Arabis: It's rather silly.

 Zinnia: I don't mind.

 He turned around somewhat hesitantly. He was dressed in suspender shorts and a blouse shirt.

 Arabis: How does it look?

 The dog couldn't help but grin, though getting any words out took time while they fully processed it.

 Zinnia: Good... Good! You pick this up recently?

 Arabis: Mm. Pitcher suggested that I should get more clothes rather than having to wash the same outfit daily. I told her I could manage if I built up enough silk but she insisted that we could splurge some... 

 Zinnia moved closer to the spider to examine better. 

 Zinnia: That's a really killer look. You pick it out yourself?

 Arabis: Mm... I was hesitant at first but Pitcher insisted I could pull such a style off.

 Arabis stood up and did a little turn. Much to the dog's surprise there were a few things he was never able to see
before with the spider's old outfit, a tail and a prosthetic leg.

 Zinnia: You have a tail?

 Arabis: Mm, I usually keep it tucked in but these shorts had a slot for it... 

 Zinnia:... Can I touch it?

 The spider's cheeks turned red.

 Arabis: You like it?

 Zinnia: It's cute.... kinda fluffy though, no idea how you hid that away.

 Arabis: I have my methods.. So you do like it then?

 Zinnia: Love it.... also may I?

 Arabis: Mmm... 

 Zinnia put their hand through Arabis' tail, indulging in the soft and fluffy nature of it. Arabis looked away, trying to cover up his smile. 

 Zinnia: You manage to pick out anything else?

 Arabis: A few little things, you'll get to see them soon enough... admittedly a good number of these are outside of my element however.

 Zinnia: Like what?

 Arabis: Shorts are a big one. I rather like the concept of them and they are quite comfortable but well...

 Zinnia: Well what? They look good!

 Arabis: I don't like to have certain scars exposed, my right leg being the most extreme case... prior to exile I had quite a few rough scuffles trying to live among the public and it's resulted in a good number of moments that certainly made exile and the life of a hermit appealing...

 Zinnia: Who hurt you like that?

 Arabis: A noble's personal so-called "knight". A crook frankly, made a point to mark me for life hoping that I wouldn't show my face again. I suppose I let him win in the end by leaving town. Anyway, some kindly folks at the very least provided me with my first prosthetic, a simple wooden thing. 

 Zinnia: What about this one? The metal work on that is really something....

 Arabis: Made my current one myself, I have a bit of an affinity for working with this kind of craft if you could believe it or not. It functions quite well and due to my fiendish nature it attached on as if it were meant to be there the whole time.... I'm quite proud of the work I put into it despite the circumstances around it..

 Zinnia: Is it weird that I think it's kind of pretty? You did a really good job on it.

 Arabis: I think so too, though I admit I never expected to hear that from someone else... I figured that if I needed a new leg it had to be something I'd be personally satisfied with. It took a lot of trial and error, but a decade in isolation did wonders for my craftsmanship I do feel. 

 Zinnia: You ever consider it as a job? Heck we could really benefit a ton from it here in the Judgment house... 

 Arabis: Perhaps.. as a fiend however it's difficult to find work outside of being muscle which...
 Zinnia: Not your cup of team?

 Arabis: Not really in the slightest if I'm quite frank. If I have to fight it's what I'll do but I have no interest for such conflict in my heart. 

 Zinnia: I mean you don't gotta fight if you really don't want to. You got plenty of options.
 Zinnia placed a hand on his cheek.

 Arabis smiled.

 Arabis: I'll still of course stand by you and the family should crisis come. I do really wish to make this work...

 Zinnia: You're making it work fine. Folks here are liking you plenty already.

 Arabis: You think so? I always worry...

 Zinnia: I know so. A couple have said that much at least so... don't sweat it alright?

 Arabis nodded.

 Arabis: I will try not to. 

 The dog reached for his hand.

 Zinnia: Anyway you ready to get some grub? Everyone else is probably wondering where we are by now.

 Arabis: Mm. Let's not keep them waiting any longer...

 The two made their way to the kitchen together.

 Despite the fact that the others were nearly done by now, they stuck around to keep the two company the entire time. 

[ThreadLurkingComorant]

Jesus' Cantina - 2021
Comorant
CW: Alcohol Mention, Mild Violence
A Sea Slug Finds a Place to Cool-Off.

 You are Mercury, part-time slug and full time troublemaker.

 You've caught the ire of the church on a hell of a regular basis. 

Can't be helped, cultists don't click with you and in their eyes you're a bit of a unholy abomination.

Can't say you care for them much yourself, the practices don't sit well with you. 

Right now though the last thing you want is for them to catch up, one mistake and you're getting ripped out of your flesh shell. Not that it was yours to begin with but nobody's using it. 

 You hop from rooftop to alley over and over, doing everything you can to get them off your tail. 

 It's a little harder this time, got nicked a few times during the scuffle. You'll live.

 Pretty sure it worked, no sign of them anywhere for now.

You still need to lay low to get the heat off of yourself.

 You're not too far from a regular spot of yours, a little cantina that knows you well at this point. 

 After wading through a bustling crowd of people, you manage to finally reach your spot and slip into a corner right in front of the bar. 

 Play it cool, feel the nice air conditioning, keep your wounds nice and covered to avoid attention. 

 The barkeeper looks over to you, he tilts his head for a moment.

 His vision isn't exactly the greatest. Give him a cheesy gesture in response.

 He approaches with a grin.

 Chuy: Hey! You're here earlier than usual, what's happening?

 Mercury: Laying low, you mind hooking me up with the usual? 

 Chuy: In trouble again?

 Mercury: Just a little.

 Chuy: Anyone tailing you? I can open up the backroom for you.

 Mercury: I managed to shake them off, wouldn't do you dirty like that. 

 Chuy: I'm asking so I know how to cover for you, I know you wouldn't. What's the damage like? Need someone to take a look?

 Mercury: Assuming I got hurt?

 Chuy: Don't play this with me, I know you. Let me see your hands.

 Mercury: I'm fine. 

 Chuy: Then I can't do anything for you.

 Mercury: I'm paying, my money's good. 
 He points to a sign; "Don't spread germs! Wash Up Before Ordering!"

 Chuy: Show me your hands, I can't do business without confirmation.
 You hesitantly hold up your hands, they're caked in both dry and fresh blood from your own injuries.

 Chuy looks at you with a big frown.

 Chuy: That looks pretty bad, still bleeding? 

 Mercury: A little.

 Chuy: Pain scale?

 Mercury: 'Bout a 6.

 Chuy: We'll get you to the back room, have someone patch you up. I'll get your order going in the meantime. Don't understand you though, you can't keep trying to walk off shit like this.

 Mercury: There's people who need treatment more than me and you only have so many supplies at any time. Not like I ever die from this sort of thing, right?

 Chuy: 'Cause you keep getting lucky, there's only so many times you can pull off this stuff- one moment!

 He's briefly interrupted by another customer signaling for an order.

 Chuy: I don't want you walking out and never coming back. 

 Mercury: Yet I do everytime right? The brain knows when you're about to die and right now it knows this isn't it. Not even sure I can anymore.

 Chuy rubs his temple. You stressed him out.

 Mercury: I... better leave, just brought you a lot of trouble today.

 Chuy: Don't you dare walk out on me like that.

 Chuy: I don't know what makes you think you're some kind of indestructible space cowboy or that you've got some freaky ghost sword stuff going on but you're allowed to ask for help. 

 Mercury: ...

 Chuy: You came here because you needed it right? Let me help you. I like you, the folks who work here like you. You pay for your food even when we tell you that you don't gotta and you've helped us out of some real bind in the past. Just...

 He takes a moment to catch his breath. 

 Chuy: For your own sake, be nice to yourself. I don't like seeing good folks die 'cause of their own recklessness. 

 Chuy: Just... make this easy today yeah? 
 You nod but can't look him in the eye. 

 Mercury: I'm sorry. Did my thing a bit there.
 You can't understand how he deals with you being a fuck up sometimes. Or anyone really. 

 Mercury: You still okay with me asking for all this? I got money but...

 Chuy: Don't worry about it. We'll get you set up real quick. What's your temperature at?

 Mercury: Cold, but that's pretty normal. 

 Chuy: Right... well you know where everything is by now. Make yourself at home, don't bother folks who are resting, rules are the same as always. It's a bit busier than usual today but we'll get to you as fast as we can.

 Mercury: Yeah.. thanks Chuy.

 Chuy: Don't sweat it, just promise me you won't walk out before you're actually good to go yeah? 

 Mercury: I'll get better about it.

 Chuy: Better, uncovered wounds attract you-know-what.

 Mercury: As long as I find a spot before dark I'm fine. 

 Chuy: Yeah well, tonight I'm offering a place here. Little late to go fishing for a hideout. 

 Mercury: You got one of your meetings on Mondays don't you?

 Chuy: They won't mind, you're not going to snitch. 

 Mercury: Couldn't pay me to.

 Chuy: Exactly my point. For real now though, scoot on over. I got stuff to cover here.

 Mercury: Appreciated, gonna have to pay you back one of these days.

 Chuy: I know you're good for it. 

 Mercury: I mean it, I-

 Chuy gestures toward the break room as he turns his attention toward the now piling mass of customers. Must've gone on for a good while.

 He's got it covered, probably.

[skinstealer]

Badd- 2022
Tony Mortis
CW: None
Badd bickers with a bouncer.

---

BOUNCER: Your name is…?
????: Says it plain on the ID.
BOUNCER: This has to be a joke.
????: Read it and weep, and let me in while you’re at it.
BOUNCER: …
????: Cmon, man.

The bouncer’s eyes wander, clearly trying to find somewhere to look in lieu of a face- yet another instance of people being unused to his species here.

????: Hello? Eyes up here?
BOUNCER: You don’t have-

The tall, floating man in front of them tilts his head, a large, floating prism cross in place of anything resembling a skull and all that went with it. 

????: What I don’t have is a way into this party, unless you let me in.
????: I am on! The guest list!

With a huff, the bouncer finally relents, looking over the clipboard in their hands.

BOUNCER: Fine. You’re in.
????: Thank you!

They let him pass, pulling back the velvet rope. The object head man passes through with an overdramatic hop, exaggeratedly bowing on his way through.

BOUNCER: Enjoy your night, Mr…

The next words out of their mouth are practically forced.

BOUNCER: Badd…Boy.
BADD: Don’t wear it out!

Badd twists his head cross with a cracking motion, gaze settling over the thralls of partygoers before him.

BADD: About time.