#Trip Machine

[transistor-rhythm-909]

Splatoon: Trip Machine Paranoia - Adrenaline Blows Out The Fear, Part 2

Our intrepid heroes' highway battle with an enormous fully autonomous vehicle continues- with half of the team riding on top of them and generally doing Cool People things like what happens in the movies and that.

I technically kept my promise; this second part didn't take eleventy billion years to come out! It did take three months though. Uh. Whoops. Um. Sorry about that.

If you need a refresher with regards to the first half of this episode, here's a link for you.

Life's kind of kicking my ass at the moment so I can't promise when the next episode will drop- though as said, the full outline for the story has been set in stone at this stage, so it's only a matter of writing things out. Y'know, the "easy" part, lmao.

Named for Adrenaline Blowouts The Fear, by Yuzo Koshiro.

***

BOSS 3: PARANOIA UNIT DESIGNATION “REVOLUTION”

“You think you can make that jump?” Shelle said, readying the electro-thrower.

“Sure we can!” Peachy said, smirk turning to a genuine smile before she looked back at Siltmat, holding out her hand.

Siltmat closed her eyes and inhaled, before nodding, taking Peachy's hand. “Count on it.”

“That's the spirit!” Shelle said, flashing them a thumbs up. She briefly turned back to the hatch. “Ok Ira; kill the speed!”

The van slowed its acceleration slightly, causing the gap between it and the autonomous vehicle to close.

Peachy and Siltmat got into a ready pose, each concentrating as they channelled as much ink into their funnels as they could. Peachy placed the knife between her teeth, and Siltmat charged the gauntlet on her free hand.

The canons on the vehicle adjusted their aim, centring on the van.

After a few seconds, Peachy and Siltmat dashed forward.

The canons fired just as they reached the edge of the van.

The pair of them jumped, unleashing the built up ink in their funnels, propelling them both forwards.

The van sped back up as soon as they leapt from the roof, Shelle holding her position steady.

The shots struck the ground, causing the autonomous vehicle to slow its speed-

but Peachy and Siltmat managed to land on the roof, primed and ready to go.

Almost immediately, a hatch towards the back of the vehicle shot open; it didn't take long before several of the copy machine-like robots began poring out.

Briefly exchanging nods, Peachy and Siltmat split off; Siltmat headed to the nearest roof-situated canon, flexing her fingers to engage the electrodes on her gauntlets, before fiercely gripping the canon at its base. Straining a little, sending electricity pulsing through it, she roughly pulled backwards, slowly lifting the canon from its base, tearing at several wires, pipes, and other mechanisms as she went. It didn't take long before the canon was uprooted, Siltmat roughly throwing it onto the highway behind them, before moving onto the next canon to repeat the process.

Peachy, meanwhile, successfully bobbed and weaves her way through the robots, with both the finesse of a dancer and the efficiency of a killer; carefully considering the charge time of the electrically-empowered knife, she mainly slashed at the 'throats' of the machines, severing vital coolant pipes and wires that impacted functionality- the resulting coolant spillage into the exposed wiring, combined with the electricity surge, shorted the machines in due course.

Shelle smiled with pride, watching the two of them figuratively and literally tear it up. “Good stuff, ladies, good stuff.

The tracking visor on the vehicle seemed to lock onto the van again- seemingly, on Shelle specifically- re-aiming the canons closest to the front onto her. Shelle didn't flinch- if anything, she smiled wider.

“Try it!” She called out, planting her feet firmly on the roof of the van, aiming the electro-thrower as she flicked a switch near the handle. “I triple dog dare ya!”

As not to disappoint, the canons let loose a barrage of hefty, heavy looking explosive shells.

Shelle tapped her foot on the roof of the van, causing it to subsequently pick up speed.

As the gap widened, Shelle fired the electro-thrower; instead of a constant stream of energy or long-range bolts like before, it shot out large, pulsating orbs of pure electricity.

As each one collided with one of the shells, they exploded in the air- the distance between the van and the autonomous vehicle meant the shockwaves didn't rock it as badly, but the heat was still felt.

Siltmat jumped a little, but laughed as she wrestled another canon from its fixture. “Nice shootin', tex!”

Shelle rubbed her nose, chuckling. “Didn't win Best Shot in the NSS three years running for nothing.”

Avex chuckled, a wide smirk on his face as he flexed his now-mostly-healed leg. “How mad d'ya reckon they are that we're not dead yet, doc?”

“Oh, about as mad as they are that we're making this shit look easy.” Ira replied with a delighted lilt in her voice, manoeuvring the van around the corner at the bottom of the loop.

Merry looked at both of them. “I don't think I'm ever gonna get used to how... nonchalant you guys are about all of this.”

“Ah c'mon, short-stack!” Ira said, thumping Merry on the arm- much harder than the Inkling was expecting- “What's not to like about tearing down an oppressive regime?”

Merry rubbed his arm, an image of Tommy's face briefly flashing before his eyes. The smallest of smiles flashed on his face. “... Well, I can't deny it's not satisfying giving them the runaround.”

Ira smiled toothily “That's the spirit!”

Merry gazed forward, noticing they were back on the original part of the highway. The smoke plume from the buildings the vehicle has levelled earlier could be seen on the horizon.

Merry and Ira turned to face one another, both of them instantly coming to the same thought.

“Are the breaks good enough?” Merry asked, making sure his seatbelt was tight.

“They're spongy, but they'll do.” Ira grunted, her fingers tightening around the wheel.

“I make it three minutes.”

“Two and 45 seconds, at this speed.”

Avex shakily got to his feet- seething a little as the last of the soreness from his leg wound lingered. “You two gonna loop me in at any point?”

Merry turned to face him. “Tell Shelle she and the girls have just over two minutes before they have to bail.”

Avex just shrugged, turning to the open roof. “Just over two minutes and it's back in the van, Shelle!”

“Got it!” Shelle called as she took care of one final round. “Get ready to jump ship in two minutes, ladies!”

“No sweat!” Peachy called, throwing one final defence drone off the side of the vehicle. “We're just about done here!”

Siltmat stomped on the battered remains of the final turret. “Yeah, this thing's toa-”

The vehicle juddered slightly as a larger panel towards the back of the roof shot open. A grinding mechanical whirring echoed out as a far larger, much sturdier cannon rose up from underneath it.

It was already beginning to charge it's shot.

Siltmat yelled in frustration. “Nothing's ever simple, is it?!”

“C'mon, DJ!” Peachy yelled, dashing to the base of the cannon, slicing at every wire and pipe she could. “Before it fries the van!”

Siltmat nodded, joining Peachy and beginning to wail on it as hard as possible.

Shelle was sizing up the cannon with narrowed eyes. “I don't think my shot can counter that, guys.”

“Can your shot reach the base from there?” Avex called up.

“Probably...” She turned to face Avex through the opening to the roof. “But I don't think it'd do much.”

“Can we make it before it fires?” Merry said, nervous expression on his face.

“Hard to say.” Ira said, narrowing her eyes.

Shelle tapped her chin, lost in thought for a moment. Suddenly, her face lit up, as she retrieved one of the spare chargers for her electro thrower, beginning to tinker with it. “Ira, slow down in twenty seconds- just enough to close the gap. As soon as I jump, floor it.”

“Uhhhh, sure.” Ira said, unsure where this was going- and more than a little concerned about what Shelle was doing with the charger.

Avex sat back down on the floor of the van's cargo hold, bracing himself in advance. Merry gripped his seatbelt in anticipation.

Peachy and Siltmat exchanged worried glances as they continued to work. There was an audible buzz as the barrel of the cannon began to glow a bright yellow.

As the van slowed down, the gap between vehicles closed.

Shelle tensed, filling her funnel with as much Ink as possible, before taking a running leap.

“Alright...” Ira mumbled, slamming her foot down on the accelerator. The ruined buildings were in sight now.

The buzzing of the cannon grew louder. Sparks began to shoot out of the barrel.

“We're not gonna make it...!” Siltmat cried between panting breaths.

Peachy grit her beak, shaking the electro-knife in a vain hope to get it to recharge faster.

Shelle landed on the van, dashing towards the cannon- and throwing the fiddled with charger into the cannon's barrel.

Peachy and Siltmat looked at her with wide eyes, both of them immediately figuring out her plan.

“LOWER FORM, NOW!” Shelle yelled, transforming into her squid form. The other two girls followed suit, each of them taking one of Shelle's tentacles, and leaping from the vehicle with the most hastily charged super-jump any of them had ever attempted.

Just as they did, the cannon exploded, taking a portion of the back of the vehicle with it- including its rearmost wheels.

“BRACE YOURSELVES!” Ira yelled as she slammed down onto the break and turned the wheel sharply- the van tapered off to the right with a shrieking skid, clearing out of the way of the autonomous vehicle as the breaks fully locked, propelling backwards but gradually slowing to an unsteady stop.

The vehicle roared passed them, unsteadily racing forwards-

right into the rubble it had made earlier, the rest of the vehicle crumpling like a crushed soda can as it collapsed into itself and knocked a significant portion of the rubble away- and causing more to collapse down on top of it.

STAGE 2 CLEAR

-

Deep within the bowls of the Trip Machine base, a mechanical figure leaned against the wall of a long corridor. It looked almost like an Inkfish in some ways, but its frame was decidedly skeletal in design. They repetitively flipped a coin, over and over, “staring” at the opposite wall.

The large doors at the end of the hallway opened, though the figure didn't turn to acknowledge it. TM Survivor stomped out, a severe grimace on their stolen face as they did. The skin layer of the Tommy's hijacked body had begun to grey a little, and flecks of it were pealing off. They stopped as they saw the figure leaning against the wall, their grimace growing deeper.

“Paranoia Unit 'Revolution' just totalled itself.” Survivor said, storming over. “Ran straight into a gods damned building. Not that it was particularly effective beforehand- its weapons were far weaker than they were during testing, and the number of defence drones housed within it wasn't as high as it should have been. I don't suppose our exalted 'chief of munitions' might have anything to say about that?”

The other machine let out a staggered hiss that sounded almost like a chuckle, but it continued to flip the coin.

“No, I thought not.” Survivor spat, drawing in close. “I expected as such the second I saw those ingrates cleave through the ground troops as though they were made of paper.” Survivor sneered, their face inches from the other machine's. “Your subterfuge hasn't been subtle, traitor. What I can't figure out is why The Emperor is allowing it to happen.”

The other machine merely stared back, making no other movements. They were clearly unmoved.

Survivor tutted, pulling back. “Whatever. You're not the one steering this ship. If I'm the only one around here committed to seeing the six rebels wiped off the face of the planet, then so be it.”

The other machine shook their head as Survivor stomped away, muttering to themselves.

“Although, I can't help but wonder...” Survivor said, as they briefly stopped, their voice taking on a hint of malice. “Given who they're up against next... can you bring yourself to see things through? Are you willing to betray even them?”

The other machine finally stopped flipping the coin, grabbing it with their fist. They tightened their grip, but otherwise stayed still, staring at the wall.

Survivor chuckled darkly. “My, my. And they call me cold.” They laughed, mockingly, as they continued down the corridor. “You're aptly named, Designation NM.”

The other machine merely stood in place, any hint of emotion or expression entirely unreadable on their blank face. After a few moments, they returned to flipping the coin, their gaze dropping down to the floor.

-

Peachy blinked her eyes open as she returned to her upper form, staring around her; Shelle was already on her feet, cricking her neck and sighing, whilst Siltmat laid prone on the ground, groaning. “Schnapps...?” she barely grunted out.

“Yeah...?” Peachy said, coughing slightly as she slowly got to her feet.

“Never rope me into one of your plans again.”

Peachy laughed, in spite of the situation, offering a hand to help the Octoling up. “You loved it.”

Siltmat took Peachy's hand, shakily getting to her feet and laughing weakly, too stunned to think of a comeback.

“Everyone alright in there?” Shelle called out as she walked towards the van.

“Never better!” Ira chimed, the first to emerge and looking far too pleased with herself. “Been a while since I did a donut that spectacular.

“Battered and bruised, but still kicking” Avex moaned as he clambered out the back, shaking his legs.

Merry slunk out last, almost all the colour drained from his face.

“How 'bout you, champ?” Shelle asked, patting him on the shoulder.

Merry flashed a trembling thumbs up, giving her a crooked smile... before he turned away and doubled over, heaving.

“Ok, yep, there y'go.” Shelle said, smiling sheepishly, rubbing his back. “Get it all out, buddy.”

“C'mon bozos, look alive.” Ira said, gesturing towards the rubble of the levelled building and the remains of the autonomous vehicle. “Stupid thing opened up the very path it blocked off as it 86'd itself. We're home free.”

Peachy walked up next to her, gazing at the rubble. She'd tried not to notice the scant scraps of clothing she could see dotted inbetween the chunks... but it was hard not to.

Ira noticed Peachy's change in disposition, following her gaze; her smile fell. The rest of the group looked similarly forlorn, a flurry of emotions rapidly crossing their expressions.

“They have the city's best interests in mind, huh...?” Shelle spat, bitterly. “What a joke.”

Merry quietly slumped his shoulders as he turned to the ground, tears threatening the corners of his eyes. “All those people...”

Avex's hands clenched into fists, firm enough to break the skin layer of his palms, thin trickles of ink dripping through.

All six of them stirred as the faint sound of mechanical marching filled their ears. Through the large gap in the debris, they could see a large number of the modified copy robots marching down, weapons drawn.

“Hey.” Ira said, turning to Peachy, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. “We'll give 'em hell. Right?”

“No.” Peachy said, her face twisted into a scowl of fury, readying her knife. “We'll give them something worse.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” Avex snarled, pulling the modified roller out of the strap on his back.

Weapons drawn and anger boiling over, the six Inkfish dash through the opening and spill into the financial district's main street.

[mushroomminded]

“Y-You... you're that Inkling, aren't you? The one they're looking for?”

[alenagerashchenko]

TOKYO, JAPAN

[sclki-op]

[party4uuuu]

im back with homestuck ...happy late halloween !

[soadscrawl]

i was saying this to my best friend the other day but why are voltron aus making keith either rich or like a prince or something. why must you take his poor kid sparkle. that man knows a 7/11 slurpee he knows a walmart brand bottle of soda. he deserves to know the simple pleasure of an inflatable backyard pool. I know he got those fuckass black jeggings from a thrift store. and that fuckass mullet is from great clips. is keith kogane truly keith kogane if hes not taking his change to the coinstar at the grocery store. dont take this from my man!!!!!!

[venomous-qwille]

Senhoras e senhores, uma grande salva de palmas para Sombra! ~

Sombra is a character from Ghost in the Machine AU; once a DCA animatronic from the plex in Rio he has long been savouring his freedom from Fazco, a freedom he will protect at any cost.

[anakindoodles]

You trade your friends like guns for hire

(Please click for better quality, i spent so much time on the detail and tumblr is crunchinnggg it *tear*)

[ingravinoveritas]

Earlier this year, a new blog was started here on Tumblr with the aim and intention of harassing a group of fans in the GO fandom. I previously made a post addressing this, as I was the initial target of this blog (whose original handle was a dupe of my own Tumblr handle).

I had hoped not to have a reason to revisit this particular subject, but given recent disturbing comments made by both this blog and its followers, and a post written by @nightgoodomens describing the situation from their perspective, I feel compelled to make a post of my own, to talk about what I have experienced and continue to experience at the hands of these individuals.

By now, some of you may be familiar with the blog in question. In my prior post, I did not mention this blog's name publicly, and I have no intention of doing so at this time, either. Yet I think it's important to be clear about what this blog's specific intentions were, which were made evident by its original creator on Twitter at the end of May:

It was only a few days after writing this tweet that the author did exactly this, and created this main blog. I feel that this has somehow become obscured over time, as given the negative response that this blog's initial posts engendered, the original creator apparently retired from the blog and gave the reins to someone else, and the blog's focus soon pivoted to defending Georgia and Anna. Prior to this, however, the blog began publishing Anons attacking me, including one that seemed to be threatening to doxx me:

What particularly perplexed me was seeing a gradual distortion of my own words and writing here on Tumblr, as well as people buying into it so readily. I also noticed one particular blog that became friendly with this main blog--they've changed handles a number of times, but at the time they were known as michaelsheendaily (then michaelsheensource, then thesheenantbergs). For months prior, they talked specifically about how awful the things I/others were saying about Georgia and Anna, and then seemingly joined forces with this main blog.

…Yet one year ago this very month, that same person (michaelsheendaily/thesheenantbergs) felt similarly to many of us and had sent me an Ask wanting to know if I thought Anna was being abusive to Michael. This Ask was sent from their (at the time, now deleted) main blog, but they helpfully DMed me from michaelsheendaily to make sure I had seen their question:

I answered this question (as I try to do with every Ask/Anon I get) straightforwardly and honestly, and firmly said "No" in response, as well as how serious it is to accuse someone of abuse, and that it is not up to any of us to try and break up a relationship, as Michael has people he can turn to if he needs to do so. I have also previously defended Georgia on my blog (and provided rationales and examples for why my perspective has gradually shifted over time), but it seems that the people harassing me have conveniently chosen to ignore all of this/have never looked at my blog beyond a cursory glance.

As this main blog continued its posting, and despite having Anons turned off, I began to receive a number of hateful Asks, which culminated with another blog suddenly coming into being about a month after these initial incidents. This blog claimed to be Michael Sheen (using a handle of his from Facebook), and published this despicably homophobic and noticeably un-Michael-like post:

The aforementioned main blog immediately drew attention to this post, and claimed that they had "proof" of this being the real Michael:

It soon became apparent that this blog was a fake, and despite its prior insistence that it could possibly be him, the main blog backtracked quickly as more people pointed out how obviously this was not Michael. Yet even the notion that someone would think this was acceptable--to pretend to be Michael, to (poorly) attempt an approximation of his writing style, all for the sake of attacking one person, and despite the fact that we know Michael already has a Tumblr that he hasn’t posted on in years--is just absurd beyond words.

But clearly this ill-conceived post inspired others, as only a week after this post appeared (and subsequently disappeared, along with the blog itself), I received an Ask from yet another recently-created blog of someone claiming to know Michael personally, saying that he would "destroy" me:

Which brings me to the present day, and how these themes have presented themselves yet again, in an even more unpleasant fashion.

Over the last four months, this main blog and its followers have continued to obsessively read my blog (despite how very easy it would be to simply block me) and screenshotted my posts in order to add their own vile commentary. I have not wanted to draw attention to any of this, but one particular instance has now made me change my mind.

I've recently talked on my blog about my upcoming trip to London, where I will be seeing David in Macbeth. A few days ago, it was brought to my attention that the main blog screenshotted one of my posts--which was a reblog of a video of David with Jodie Whittaker--along with my tags talking about the way David was sitting. One of the blog's followers commented this in response, and subsequently received a reply from the OP:

The "daggers" commenter currently runs several blogs dedicated to worshiping/defending Georgia and Anna (at least one of which is run in tandem with the original creator of the main blog). Numerous accusations have been levied at me and others from these blogs, one of the most outrageous of which is homophobia...yet this is their response to me simply saying David might not be 100% straight, and which eerily echoes the tone of the post from "Michael" three months ago. And while there are a lot of things about the last few months that have rankled me, nothing does so more than the hypocrisy I have witnessed, such as this.

The thing is, though, that when I saw these comments, all I could honestly think of was how sad I felt.

Because here I am, just days away from going on my trip--a trip I have been so anxiously awaiting, that is my first non-work trip in a very, very long time--and now the thought of, "Could someone try to attack me?" has crossed my mind. Yet my sadness is less for myself and more for the person who thinks it is acceptable to wish or even encourage violence against another human being. My sadness is that this person feels so unsafe or discontent in their own life--a feeling I know all too well--that their chosen course of action is to make someone else feel unsafe. To assuage their own sense of powerlessness by going after someone they perceive as having power.

My sadness is at these people being so sure that the celebrities they are a fan of would agree with them, yet needing/wanting those people to act in a way that aligns with who they want Michael and David to be, rather than who they actually are. I know that the Michael and David I became a fan of are two of the kindest, most intelligent, warmest men you could imagine, and that there is no part of me that wants or needs them to scream at or dislike the same people I do for the sake of my own self-serving purposes.

To that end, I have also been distressed by the apparent frenzy that was recently generated in the form of a "rallying cry" against myself and others in this group of fans facing ongoing harassment. But what I've tended to see as a response to said frenzy is some variation of, "People are saying these terrible things. I haven't actually seen any of these posts/comments, but it must be terrible, so I'll block this person/people." I am no stranger to fandom chatter/gossip, but every time I hear something, my first impulse is always to find the receipts. To learn more information what is being claimed so that I can make up my own mind. And that is the very same ethos I have espoused on my blog for years, because I would much rather people think for themselves than "fall in line" because they are being told to do so/threatened with being "cancelled" if they don't.

So if you want to find out something about my opinions or takes, it is all here on my blog. Everything going back five years since I joined the GO fandom, tagged and catalogued. I have not privated anything or deleted anything, nor do I have multiple blogs or side blogs--just this one. And if after reading what I actually have to say you still want to block me, you are certainly welcome to do so. I would just much rather you block me because of the truth, not because of someone else's personal vendetta and agenda.

To say that dealing with all of this for months on end has been surreal and stressful is a profound understatement. Especially because I have never once engaged with this blog, never replied to any posts of theirs, nor sent them an Anon or made threats of any kind (despite receiving numerous threats myself). Nor have I replied to the multiple incendiary Asks and DMs I have repeatedly received from the blog's original creator.

Again, I have not wanted to draw any further attention to these people, but the staggering awfulness of the most recent comments finally made me feel that enough is enough. I truly shudder to think what the response would be if someone made a similarly threatening comment toward these individuals...yet it's somehow completely fine to say these things about me. To make me and others into the "villain" that you need us to be to justify saying these heinous things in the first place. And while these individuals and anyone else are free to dislike me and to express their dislike in a public forum to their heart's content, that freedom of expression ends where my right to not feel that my personal safety is in jeopardy begins. A line that should never have been crossed has been crossed, and we as a fandom and as human beings are much the worse off for it.

No one should ever have to feel this way. Not even these people. And by talking about all of this and bringing these incidents into the light, my hope is that no one else ever will.

[paulcirigliano]

[transistor-rhythm-909]

Splatoon: Trip Machine Paranoia - Adrenaline Blows Out The Fear, Part 1

After defeating a three-headed mechanical abomination and procuring a van for transport, things should be smooth sailing for our intrepid heroes for the forseeable, right?

Oh, if only it were that simple.

Still gradually working my way through Trip Machine inbetween other projects + work + job hunting etc.; I've got an entire outline for the rest of the story drafted up, I just need to write it all out into actual episodes lol. Hopefully the second part of this episode won't take eleventy billion years.

Named for Adrenaline Blowouts The Fear, by Yuzo Koshiro.

EDIT 21/05/25: I realise I made a few slips with Councillor Obi's pronouns during the flashback scene, so I have corrected them. They exclusively use neutral pronouns.

***

Day 127, Year 997 of the New Pacific Calendar

04:46 PM

A gorgeous sunset bakes a pristine looking office in a dazzling array of pink, yellow, and orange hues as afternoon turns to evening. A cool spring breeze blows gently through the open shoji windows, bringing with it a light scent of blossom and fresh river water.

None of it does anything to soothe the worried brow of the inkling sat at the desk, whom was staring down at an array of papers spread out in front of him. Studies on the spread and rate of landmass loss nearer the coastal regions, reports of civil unrest in those same areas, official requests from several arms of the Shokushu government for more manpower, equipment and vehicles, and most concerningly, munitions.

“Pardon my intrusion, Premier Ohno; may I come in?”

The Inkling jolted slightly in his seat, looking up; a short, rotund Octoling was poking their head through the door, face equally creased in worry.

“Yes, yes, of course, come in Chancellor Obi,” Premier Ohno said, a small smile briefly spreading over his face. “Please, take a seat.”

The chancellor nodded, crossing fully into the office and shutting the door gently.

“Shall I ask Seigen to prepare us some tea?” Ohno asked, crossing his fingers as the chancellor took their seat.

“No, no... to tell the truth, I don't think I could keep anything down at the moment.” Obi said with a sigh, rubbing one of their temples.

“Ah. Straight to business, then.” Ohno echoed the sigh, his slightly boosted mood deflating instantly.

“Unfortunately.” Obi responded, looking at the desk. “Though I can't say I don't feel a little guilty bringing you more bad news.”

“I don't see how it could get much worse.” Ohno said, slumping a little in his chair.

Obi grimaced, before placing a manilla folder on the table, and pushing it over to Ohno. “I fear this will do the trick.”

Ohno took the folder, opening it and scanning through its contents.

“... By the Gods above.” was all the premier could say.

“That was my reaction, as well.” Obi mumbled, tapping their fingers nervously. “As if the infighting between civilians wasn't enough...”

Premier Ohno stood up, throwing the envelope down on the desk in frustration. “Has the Emperor's Court been informed?”

“No.” Obi responded firmly, in spite of the fear in their eyes. “I don't think any moves have been made on an official level. Given how small this cabinet is, I think they want to foster ground support before taking anything that far.”

“And how did you come into possession of this draft?”

“One of my staffers is acquainted with a member of that cabinet. “Drinking buddies”, is the parlance he used. And you know what they say about alcohol...”

Ohno's face twisted into one of rage, for but a moment, before despair took its place, and he returned to his seat, holding his head in his hands. “Good grief...”

“From what I understand, it is not a popular motion.” Obi said, trying to convince themselves as much as the premier. “Even with in the cabinet, there's divides. It will take a prolonged period before any serious attempts to declare-”

Ohno held up a hand. “I know. What troubles me is that the motion is even being proposed at all. I know all to well that land is growing scarce, and that effects all of us, but these are our neighbours. Our friends.”

Obi nodded in agreement, sadly. “I agree.”

Silence fell on the office, the two individuals lost deeply in thought for several minutes, the gentle sound of the breeze the only noise. The pleasant scent on the air turned deeply bitter.

“... Kazusuke.” the premier said, forgoing formalities. “What can we do to prevent conflict?”

Councillor Obi crossed their hands, staring down at the still-open folder on the premier's desk. “I have one idea, Yoshihiro...” they started, inhaling sharply as they collected their thoughts. “There is someone in the cabinet that opposes the motion, and is in a high enough position to potentially sway the rest.”

“What is their name?”

“Cuttlefish. Craig Cuttlefish.”

-

The 3rd Day of The Sixth God's Month

123 AGW

09:13 AM

“Can't this thing go any faster?!” Ira yelled.

“You're the one driving.” Merry said, sheepishly. “Shouldn't you... like... know?”

“Less lip, more directions, chop chop!”

Merry jittered, then sighed. “Keep going straight.”

Outside of the occasional sharp jostle from a rough manoeuvre (or Ira venting her frustrations over the “piece of shit write-off on wheels” they'd procured), the drive had been fairly quiet and uneventful.

Something Avex was particularly thankful for, because good lord his leg really bloody hurt. And having to lay on the floor of the van's cargo area was offering neither comfort, nor any real stability beyond the backside of the seating Ira and Merry were occupying.

“How're you holding up, Cap?” Shell said, sat crouched on the floor next to him, fiddling with her tentacles idly.

“Been a minute since I've been in this much pain.” Avex said, voice quiet. “It's knocked me bandy, this miracle elixir-”

“Witches Brew!” Ira chimed in, the little ™ practically audible in her voice.

“I'm not calling it that.”

“Such a critic.” Ira said with a mock-whine. “It's rapidly enhancing natural processes that usually take days, Avex. Of course it's going to hurt.”

“Hey, don't get me wrong, doc; I'm grateful.” Avex strained, trying to prop himself up slightly. “If it gets me back in the game right sharpish, I'll take whatever it throws at me.”

Shelle laughed. “You're as much of a go getter as they said you'd be.”

“I try.” Avex said, with a hint of pride.

“They also said you have a habit of playing hero. Shouldering all the responsibility, taking all the risks... and all the blows.” Shelle said, pointedly.

That caught Avex off guard. He didn't really have a response to that. “... Hmm. S'pose that tracks.”

“We're a team on this, alright?” Shelle perked up, nudging his shoulder. “No lone wolf antics, ok?”

Avex smirked, but his eyes had a sad, knowing look in them. “Yeah, cushty. I'm a team player all the way.”

“Good. More likely to stay alive that way.” Shelle paused, her smiling turning to a cheeky grin. “And thus, more likely to deliver on those four barrels of Kerosene you owe me.”

Avex jolted upright, straining his leg- and seething sharply as a result, before scrambling to regain control of his limbs. “For the last time, you can't haggle UPWARDS!”

“Hey, I've seen some real weird stuff today. Weird robo horrors beyond my comprehension.” Shelle continued to smirk. “I dunno if I'll ever emotionally or psychologically recover from this.”

Avex grit his beak. “That's why we have a therapist on staff.”

“Therapy ain't as good as setting things on fire.” Shelle said, face like the Cheshire cat's.

“Yeah, Avex.” Ira joined in, smirking equally as smugly as she drove. “Fire is the ultimate cleanser. Get the girl her five barrels of kerosene.”

“FIVE?!” Avex cried out, followed a litany of bewildered, frustrated noises, as Shelle and Ira laughed. Even Merry couldn't help chuckling.

“They're a lively bunch, aren't they?” Peachy said, leaning against the side of the van with a small smile on her face.

“Yyyyyyep.” Siltmat said, beanie pulled down over her eyes.

“Warms my hearts to see them getting along.”

“Sure, sure. Wish they'd give it a rest so I could rest, though.”

Peachy giggled. “Be nice. We've been through a lot already today.”

“You can say that again.” Siltmat said, shivering slightly. “I'm gonna be seeing this shit in my dreams for months.”

Peachy's smile fell. “Will you be ok...?”

That got Siltmat's attention. The DJ sat up, adjusting her beanie to look at Peachy. “Y-yeah. No, yeah, I'm not, like, that bad. You don't need to worry about me...”

Peachy's frown deepened. The 'when you've got yourself to worry about' was implicit. “I'm not made of glass, Silt.”

Siltmat grimaced, scratching the nape of her neck. “I know.”

“Do you?” Peachy said, giving Siltmat a knowing glance.

“... I do. But...” Siltmat sighed, embarrassed. “I... worry, is all.”

A smile returned to Peachy's face, as she shut her eye. “It's nice to know I'm loved enough to be worried about. But I can handle myself.”

“You're telling me.” Siltmat said, with a chuckle. “I'm still reeling over that parkour business you were pulling in the alley. That was dope as hell.”

Peachy chuckled. “I've had plenty of practice. Buildings aren't all that different from trees.”

“I mean, they're very different.”

“You know what I mean, you dork.”

The two laughed for a moment, almost forgetting where they were or what was going on, until the laughter died down.

“... I wish you didn't have to know how to handle yourself.” Siltmat said, her smile slipping. “I'm glad you do, but...”

“I appreciate the gesture.” Peachy said, nodding slightly. “Thank you.”

-

“So, Gin; still wondering if they can handle themselves?”

“No, Marie; I am not.”

Gin stared, almost in awe, at the sheer destruction ahead of her. Some sort of giant mechanical... dog? She thinks that's what it looks like- either way, it's completely torn to shreds. Behind it, a mess of tangled wires and bent pipes, an utterly decimated neon sign, and miscellaneous scraps of metal was still smoking and steaming behind it.

“Can't say I'm complaining too much.” Callie said, stretching a little. “It's saving us some trouble.”

“Don't count your eggs before they hatch.” Marie said, as she crouched down by one of the giant mechanical beast's decapitated heads. “We've got guests.”

Callie looked around, hand instinctively reaching for the roller holstered on her back. “Really? I don't see anything.”

Marie tapped her ear with her free hand. “Never fails.”

Gin strained her ears; just a little behind them and off to the right, she could hear mechanical thumping. “Seven O'clock Three of them?”

“I'd say four.” Marie added.

Callie could hear them now, as well. “Stragglers, maybe?”

“Or Scouts.” Marie sighed. “Could you be dears and take care of that for me?”

“Sure,” Callie started, starting to unholster the roller. “But I don't think both us are-”

Before she could finish, four of the Copy Machine derived robots leapt from one of the alleyways, primed to fire-

To which Gin answered by drawing a heavily modified Ink pistol, getting off four shorts in no time flat; each shot struck its respective unit in its head with a superheated Ink cartridge, the combined calibre of the shot and the temperature of the ink allowing the shots to pierce right through the metal. The four machines fell to the ground, instantly shorted.

“Huh...” Gin said nonchalantly, twirling the gun on her finger. “You were right, Marie. It was four.”

“... Show-off” Callie said, rolling her eyes but smiling.

“I'm always right.” Marie said, standing up; she was holding a portion of a mother board in her hand, retrieved from the head she was examining.

“What you got in mind for that?” Callie asked, nodding at it.

“I have a feeling we're going to need to do a little homework once we squash this little coup.” Marie said, smirking.

-

“We nearly there?” Ira asked, yawning slightly.

“Almost; the next right, and it's a straight shot.” Merry answered, drumming his fingers on the door.”

The rest of the van had settled into a semi-comfortable silence, as everyone took the time to recuperate as much as was possible. Avex was sat up and breathing gently, the pain mostly subsided- the wound was still repairing itself, but it was closer to sealed than not; Shelle was double checking her stock of tanks, making sure they'd all recharged; Siltmat had pulled the beanie over her eyes again, arms crossed behind her head as she gently snored.

Peachy was glancing down at her knife, twirling it around in her hands occasionally with deft coordination. Her mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour, poring over everything that had happened. Not just today, but for the last few months. Some of the details were fuzzy- she'd come to learn that her memory was severely impacted by trauma- but the feelings remained. The fear, the sorrow, the fury. At the moment, though, those feelings all felt... distant. Clear, but far away. Like she wasn't really “feeling” them so much as observing them.

It was an odd sensation, but not unfamiliar. She inhaled, taking in the scent of musty oil and dust that permeated through the van- a scent that did nothing to help her nauseous stomach- as her scattered thoughts and distant feelings all melted away.

The only thing she thought and felt, with crystal clear clarity, was determination to carve a brighter future for herself right out of these smug bastards' fa-

Something struck the back doors van, leaving a massive dent and shaking the whole vehicle roughly, jostling everyone within it.

“Gods damnit...!” Siltmat groaned, pulling her beanie up. “I was having such a lovely dream, too...”

“The heck was that??” Shelle said, rubbing the back of her head.

“Damn it...” Ira hissed, checking her mirrors. “We're being followed.”

“You see anything?” Avex said, propping himself back up. “Fill me in.”

Merry looked out the window behind them. “Y-yeah...! Something's coming up fast, directly behind us!”

Peachy and Siltmat got to their feet, Shelle walking up behind them; the trio looked out through the panels.

A silver-grey shape was gradually coming into view, rapidly growing in size the closer it got. As its features became more easy to pick out, it became clear that the vehicle was a large lorry, all one solid unit rather then a separate cab and trailer, with several canons of varying size jutting out of firing holes built into said trailer portion of the vehicle. There was no window for a driver on the front of the cab- just a thin, black line running along the top, a singular red dot darting along it, as though it were trying to lock onto them.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” Siltmat and Ira said in tandem, despite being at opposite ends of the van.

“We're almost at the turn!” Merry cried out.

Ira nodded, planting her foot on the accelerator. “On it. These clowns won't-”

A shot rocketed past the van, striking one of the buildings ahead of it; an explosion brought most of the building down darn near instantly, blocking off the right turn.

“Hang on to your funnels, people!” Ira cried out, quickly turning the van to the left; there was a turning in that direction that lead onto another loop of inner-city highway, taking them back in the direction they were going. The turn was sharp and sudden, causing the van to rear up on one set of wheels- and sending the unseated occupants right into the inner wall of the cargo hold. Thankfully, the van balanced out with a rough bump, and Ira continued speeding ahead. The giant autonomous vehicle followed swiftly, keeping distance but maintaining a consistent gap now that it had caught up.

“Phew, that's some serious firepower.” Shelle said, expression creasing in worry. “If they can do that to a building, why not just strike the van?”

“It's toying with us.” Peachy said, narrowing her eyes as she grit her beak. “They want us to know how hopeless it is to fight back before they wipe us out.”

“Squeezus Christ.” Siltmat whimpered, the colour draining from her face.

“Am I right that this road loops back around the highway we were just on?” Ira said, looking at Merry.

Merry nodded, catching his breath as he retrieved his handheld crossbow. “Yeah. W-we could go in circles until the tank is empty if we wanted.”

Ira smirked. “Looks like we're on the same wavelength.”

“Okay, so we're running laps with it now. Why are we doing that, exactly?” Siltmat asked, fear on her face.

“By letting it chase us in a closed loop, it's as trapped as we are.” Avex said, smirking in spite of himself. “So we can take it out.”

“It's pretty heavily armoured.” Shelle said, looking over her shoulder. “And we only have two long range weapons.” She paused, thinking, before looking over at Peachy. “... Unless...?”

Peachy smirked, tossing the knife up and down- always catching it by the handle even as it span. “Oh yeah.”

Shelle smirked back. “Hell yeah.”

“You girls thinking what I'm thinking?” Ira chimed in, smirking even as she stared ahead.

“You know it.” Peachy said, still smiling.

“What???” Siltmat said, eyes darting between the three of them. “What the hell are you-” a lightbulb went off in her head, her eyes going wide. “You're mad. You're actually mad.”

“And that is why we'll win.” Avex said, cackling slightly.

-

The hatch on the roof of the van shot open.

Three lower-form inkfish slunk onto the roof, uneasily returning to their upper forms and trying their best to stay steady.

“How the shell did I let you talk me into this...?” Siltmat said, looking ill.

“I'm cute and I'm wearing Squonverse.” Peachy said, smirking. “All I had to do was bat my eyes at you.”

“When you're right, you're right.” Siltmat said with a sigh.

“You think you can make that jump?” Shelle said, readying the electro-thrower.

“Sure we can!” Peachy said, smirk turning to a genuine smile before she looked back at Siltmat, holding out her hand.

Siltmat closed her eyes and inhaled, before nodding, taking Peachy's hand. “Count on it.”

“That's the spirit!” Shelle said, flashing them a thumbs up. She briefly turned back to the hatch. “Ok Ira; kill the speed!”

The van slowed its acceleration slightly, causing the gap between it and the autonomous vehicle to close.

Peachy and Siltmat got into a ready pose, each concentrating as they channelled as much ink into their funnels as they could. Peachy placed the knife between her teeth, and Siltmat charged the gauntlet on her free hand.

The canons on the vehicle adjusted their aim, centring on the van.

After a few seconds, Peachy and Siltmat dashed forward.

The canons fired just as they reached the edge of the van.

The pair of them jumped, unleashing the built up ink in their funnels, propelling them both forwards.

The van sped back up as soon as they leapt from the roof, Shelle holding her position steady.

The shots struck the ground, causing the autonomous vehicle to slow its speed-

but Peachy and Siltmat managed to land on the roof, primed and ready to go.

BOSS 3: PARANOIA UNIT DESIGNATION “REVOLUTION”.

[mushroomminded]

(late) bday present for @transistor-rhythm-909 !!! the other trip machine girls i needed to draw

[alenagerashchenko]

KYOTO, JAPAN

[lychgate]

I feel like I missed some key lore!! where did all of your kiwi friends come from?!

What these ol things

Her names Poopy and she has 7 siblings we got in a crane machine at the mall

[848ellie]

Machine elves approve

[meskit]

late night fun fact: i used to run a batim askblog