#using these strings is what builds two dimensional magic

[redorich]

Hello! Can we get a little something for the hermit canyon AU? I was thinking something Karl centered, maybe they accidentally find his library or otherwise find out about his "travels". They're probably invisible for the whole thing, but do they do anything afterwards? Do they leave little notes and reminders? Would they try to help at all? Or would they push it to the back of their minds and try to forget about it?

Unlike most discoveries made by Hermits, Joe does not find a secret location on a normal surface run. When Etho found the Pogtopia ravine, it was a mystery to him, unsettling and vivid. When Grian found Technoblade's snowy cabin, it was on complete accident, just because Grian needed to explore, to get out of the canyon for a few hours.

When Joe exits the canyon, as he rarely does, he makes a beeline for Karl's library. Time is... not something Joe concerns himself with, but he prefers to constrict himself to the linear travel of the fourth dimension nowadays-- if such a thing as "nowadays" can be said to exist when tangling with time.

Where was he? Ah, yes. He moves quickly, because he dislikes spending more time away from Xisuma's side than absolutely necessary, even if the admin has been having a run of good health days and there are twenty-two other Hermits to attend to the admin in an emergency. He doesn't bother with invisibility, or walking, or other mundane things. Joe simply hovers in the air, flying toward his destination and perhaps fiddling with the tick speed just a little, just enough to get him there faster.

There's a residual feeling of familiarity, like a relationship with an ex-girlfriend which has long since turned sour, near the canyon. There's a whisper there of magic, of gleaming white spires, but all Joe can see is red.

"It's a shame, what they did to this library," Joe mutters with a tsk. Posters of hazy LSD-esque drawings of various time periods and locations line the walls, molding away as red vines climb on them, devour them.

He shrugs. Might as well move on; nothing of value remains here.

To the south is a place Etho has visited only briefly and in passing: Kinoko Kingdom. It's a hotspot of activity at times, and a ghost town at others. Etho didn't even know the name of the place until Puffy reported it. Joe doesn't care. For all that Etho likes to present himself as a cryptid, scaring poor innocent wood-dwelling folk who are just looking for a big fuzzy triclopean spouse, Joe is the one with experience as a cryptid. Let them see him. What are they going to say, "I saw Herobrine"?

He touches down, finally, in front of another library made from mushrooms and wood. Allowing his eyes to flash white for a moment so that he can ferret out the building's secret room, he is both disappointed and unsurprised to see it empty of life. Karl Jacobs, resident time traveller, is not there.

Joe closes his eyes. He doesn't want to have to do this. For decades, there was a place he called home, a place he built from the ground up. It was a place in between life and death, and so he called it the Inbetween.

He opens his eyes, and he is there. It's like walking down a street you've been down a hundred thousand times before; even with your eyes closed, you know where you're going. There are no longer dozens of imperfect copies of himself running around, brainless and waiting to be culled like lambs to the slaughter in order to fuel an affront against nature. Now, there are many iterations of Karl, all wandering aimlessly... save one.

The only version of Karl wearing color stands in an open-air corridor near the courtyard. Even from a distance, Joe can see his chest rise and fall far too rapidly for him to actually be getting any air. (Joe sees everything here, where his eyes are white and cannot be anything but white.)

"Why am I here?" Karl babbles to himself. "I haven't time-travelled-- or did I already forget?"

"You didn't forget," Joe reassures him. It does not have the intended effect.

Karl screams, turning around so quickly that he falls on his ass. He scoots away like a crab missing a leg, scrambling for some distance. "Your eyes--!"

"Come closer," Joe says. "I won't hurt you."

"You're Herobrine!"

Joe exhales slowly. "I was Herobrine. What I am is the only person who can help you."

Karl warily clambers to his feet. None of the other Karls dressed in white pay the two men any mind. "What do you mean?"

"You've got yourself stuck in a dimensional loop of Homestuck proportions, Karl," Joe says. "So did I, when I built this place. It took me decades to figure out how to get out of it, and I knew what I was doing. You don't have that."

"Am I stuck here forever, then?" Karl says mournfully. He waves a hand at the carefree automatons wearing his face. "Will I become one of them?"

Joe takes a few slow steps closer, keeping his hands where the stressed-out time traveller can see them. "I'll take care of things on this end. You won't ever have to come back here again."

Karl sags in relief like a marionette with its strings cut.

"Does the name Eret mean anything to you?" Joe asks. It's a name he's heard from Puffy's lips once or twice, and if her information holds true, things could get much easier.

Karl blinks. "Uh... Yeah? What about them?"

Joe continues. "Dark hair, tall, white eyes like mine?"

"I've never seen Eret without their sunglasses, but I guess, yeah," Karl replies. Of all the things he would have expected Herobrine to ask about, Eret isn't one of them.

"Imagine what Eret looks like," Joe suggests. "Think real hard about them. Imagine them here, in the Inbetween, right in front of us."

Karl has no idea why Herobrine wants him to daydream about Eret (even if their voice is very nice), but if the man is pulling his leg, well-- it's fucking Herobrine, he can do what he wants.

Speaking of that nice voice, Karl hears the voice in question scream out of nowhere. Karl flinches away from the sudden loud noise, before his eyes catch up to his brain and he realizes that he just magicked Eret into existence in the Inbetween.

"What the fuck," Eret says. "H-Herobrine, uh, long time no s-see..?"

"Sorry about that time I kinda tortured you," Herobrine says brightly. "I'm nicer now."

"I doubt--" Eret begins caustically, then remembers exactly who they're talking to and shuts their mouth. "...Why is everything so dark?"

"Take off your sunglasses," Herobrine suggests.

Eret grimaces, but obeys. This place is practically humming with magic, so they just know they're going to get blinded by it the moment they remove their glasses, but they remember what happened last time they pissed Herobrine off.

Wincing, they remove the sunglasses, expecting pain and receiving... nothing. The glint of light on quartz is a bit uncomfortable, but that's a normal human uncomfortable that Eret hasn't experienced since they were a teenager.

Herobrine smacks them on the forehead with his palm. "I take back what I said about 'living with this power for the rest of your life', and all that," he says. "You can turn 'em off now. I'd recommend not turning those eyes back on, though-- at least, not here. It's a little bright, magic-wise."

Eret gapes. All these years, they feared the day they'd meet this powerful man again, imagined what they'd say as they cursed his name or begged his forgiveness... and here he is, giving them exactly what they desperately hoped for but knew they'd never receive simply because he's 'nicer now'.

"Herobrine," Eret says, "why have you done this?"

"Call me Joe," Herobrine says.

Karl interjects, "Joe mama," under his breath. It is with the utmost shock on Eret's behalf that Karl does not in fact get immediately smited into oblivion, merely smacked on the forehead.

"Now you won't forget," Herobrine-- Joe says. "Anyway, I have shenanigans to be up to back in the canyon, so I'll send y'all back now. Those red vines are bad news, and so is their egg, so y'all better take care of that, please. It's really messing your server up."

Karl blanches. "The canyon?"

"Oh, look at the time. Have fun, be safe, bye," Joe says with affected mild disinterest.

Both Karl and Eret have so much to say, so many questions to ask, but they fade away before they get the chance.

[quartzwriting]

Stephen, Peter, and Morgan

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader

Description: You and Stephen often watch Peter and Morgan, cuteness ensues in the New York Sanctum! And you leave him with them for a few hours, how does he handle?

Warnings: Non

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Originally posted to Quotev / One of my favourite things to add to my Stephen X Reader pieces is to throw Morgan and Peter into the mix!

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

Silence fell through the hallway, even though you swear you heard a scrambling and an echo of a quiet giggle. Crossing your arms, and with a smirk, you continued your way through. You crept past relics and bookshelves, old paintings and large windows, your feet making zero noise against the floorboards thanks to a little spell you cast.

Today, the Sanctum was not a place of study, or a training ground, but a playground for hide and seek.

You made a left turn and entered your favourite open room, the one that had that beautiful window with the symbol of the New York sanctum. Keeping your ears open, you walked between a set of shelves. You ran your hand across the spines of the books as you passed. There were no signs of the little rascal anywhere. Until you looked a little closer, and saw a little detail that you might have easily missed if you were not paying attention enough.

A little shadow. It was peaking out from behind one of the nooks between cabinets against the wall, thanks to the perfectly placed window right behind.

You smiled, and kept taking soundless steps around the room. You had her, now you just had to catch her. You had a few options, but you decided to use your magic to give yourself a small advantage. Using a quick, short ranged teleportation spell, you popped out of nowhere right in front of her.

"BOO!"

The little girl let out a playful scream and jumped out of her hiding place and ran. You tried to grab her but she was too fast. She ran down the nearby stairs and into a new hallway, and you got an idea to capture her. You raised your hand and conjured up a portal with your sling ring. Morgan did not notice, and she ran through the portal and right back to you thanks to the loop you made. You scooped her up while she laughed.

While Pepper is away on a Stark business trip, Morgan needed someone to watch over her. Pepper said she didn’t fully trust Peter to watch her alone, you cannot leave those two alone for even a second without the eruption of chaos. So you volunteered and agreed to letting them both stay a few nights in the Sanctum.

Stephen did not agree with the idea at first. Too many precious breakable relics, he said. Possible dimensional threats could happen when they are here, he said. He also likes his peace and quiet, and you knew that the combination of Morgan and Peter would result in some loudness echoing down the halls. But you managed to convince him, you knowing Morgan since she was very small and having bonded with Peter more since the snap was reversed.

Everything would end up fine, and it would be fun. You would not let anything go wrong.

You finally let her go and she looked up at you with a scrunched up nose, "That's not fair, you cheated!"

"I did not!" You crossed your arms around your chest.

"Yes you did! You used magic." She copied your arm movement with mockery.

"It's not cheating because I didn't use it to FIND you, but to catch you instead." You explained.

"It's still cheating, and I can't do magic so its not fair." She mumbled.

"Maybe one day I can teach you some magic,"

"REALLY!" Her eyes lit up like lights on a Christmas Tree.

"When you're older." You said instantly, and she pouted.

"Where's Peter?" She said it in her cute voice, where sometimes her Rs turned into Ws, so it sounded like 'Petew'.

"We need to find him now." You grabbed her hand and lead her to a new hallway. "Come on, Maguna." That nickname is what Tony used to call her, and now only you and Peter call her that.

"OH PETER!"

"SHHhhhhh! You're gonna give us away!" You hushed her as you both went to look for the webslinger, she giggled.

The two of you made your way to the foyer, eyes darting everywhere in search of Peter. Instead of a spider, you found Stephen in the little seating area next to the fireplace off to the side, nose deep in a book as always. Morgan dashed down the staircase and right up to him with a smile. "Mister Strange, have you seen Peter around."

She and Peter are the only ones who call Stephen 'Mister Strange', and not be corrected to 'Doctor'.

Stephen looked up from the pages of his book and smiled at her, "Sorry Morgan I haven't."

She grumbled, "He's too good at hiding!"

"Well he is a spider," Stephen said closing his book and setting it on the coffee table. "so he can hide in places that you can't. He's a sticky one."

With that, Stephen pointed upwards with a shaky hand. Morgan followed her gaze up. Sure enough there was Peter hanging all the way up from the top of the tall ceiling on a web string.

"I see you Peter!!!" Morgan shouted, pointing at him.

"Dang it Mister Strange! Why did you give me away?" Peter yelled back, beginning to descend from the ceiling.

"Did you two break anything?" Stephen said jokingly, but you knew he was being slightly serious.

"No!" Morgan exclaimed, "I'm careful."

"Peter is more likely to break something than Morgan is," You pointed out, holding back a smile while descending the stairs to join everyone.

"Hey!" Peter said in defence, and you stifled a laugh.

"Alright you two, I'm getting a little tired of hide and seek. How about we do something else?" You suggested.

"OH! We can watch a movie, I got lots of good ones on my laptop." Peter said.

"Can we build a fort for the movie?" Morgan asked with puppy dog eyes.

"Sure we can. There's some extra blankets in the library so it might be best to do it there." You said.

"Sweet! Morgan lets go!!!" Peter bent down so he could let her climb onto his back, and the two run up the stairs to go make their fort.

"No running!" Stephen called after them, and you saw that he was trying to hold back a smile.

You laughed at the sight. Even though those two were a handful, non stop energy and somehow constantly hungry, you loved their company.

"Are they behaving?" Stephen asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course they are." You replied, "I wouldn't let them in here if I didn't trust them."

"It's not just that, but what if something comes up? What if there is an attack?"

"There won't be, and even if there is I'll protect them. It's what I promised Pepper." You said, then you looked down. "It's what I promised Tony." Your heart ached a little, you missed Tony. Surprisingly, you saw a lot of him in Morgan's developing personality. You were sure that when she grew up, she's be just like her dad.

"Alright." Stephen nodded. He stood up from the couch and made his way over to you to place a kiss on your forehead. "I trust you of course to watch over them, and the Sanctum. Cause if they break anything I'm gonna have to reconsider their stay here." You laughed a little at that.

"Hey, guys." Peter called out to you from the banister at the top of the stairs, "There's a beeping sound up here."

You raised your eyebrows in thought, and you instantly dashed up the stairs with Stephen following close behind. You followed Peter back into the room with the window, now a sunset displayed beyond the glass.

“What’s that noise?” Morgan asked. She pointed out the sound and saw a flashing blue light coming from the side of the room.

“There’s a call coming in.” You said, walking up to the device that rested on the table. Natasha gave this to you, it connected to the communication channel that let you talk with everyone else, you used it to check in on everyone across the universe back when Thanos won.

You accepted the call, and a glowing blue projection appeared.

“(L/N), do you copy?”

“Yes Rocket, I hear you. What’s up?”

The Gaurdians were now projected into the Sanctum. Quill, Rocket, Nebula, Groot, Mantis and Drax. You were close with Rocket and Nebula from those five years, and you battled alongside everyone before.

“We could use some help." Peter Quill said, "We responded to a distress signal, and we found a planet that's in complete chaos. There's like chucks coming out if it an everything. Anyways, the attackers look like they're using magic."

"What do you mean?" Stephen placed himself next to you so he was now in the projection on their ship and they could see him.

"There's these guys with powers that resemble what you can do. The sparkly stuff. We thought it was best to call you in. Things keep coming out of portals and this planet is about to erupt into war if we don't stop them. Maybe even collapse in on itself." Rocket explained.

You tilted your head in confusion, "I thought humans from earth were the only people in this dimension to use our type of magic."

Stephen's eyebrows furrowed in thought, "I don't know, maybe they had human influence. Does Kamar Taj know about this?"

"Whatever it is, we need some assistance." Nebula said. When you first met her, you never though a sentence like that would even come out of her mouth, her asking for help.

"Its too large scale for us to handle alone. Thor is unavailable right now and you guys are our best bet." Quill explained.

“We would come check it out, but we’re a little occupied at the moment-“ Stephen was going to go on but was quickly interrupted.

Parker poked his head in front of you and into the view of the projector, “HI GUYS! HI PETER!!!”

“Hey Peter,” Quill laughed. “You two babysitting?”

“Yeah.” You replied, Morgan now in front of you to say hi as well.

"Aww, a child." Mantis cooed, smiling at Morgan and waved to her.

"You are watching Stark's children." Drax said.

"Oh um Mr. Stark isn't my dad." Peter Parker pointed out.

"Yeah, but if you need help we can send in some sorcerers from another Sanctum. Maybe we can give London a call." You suggested.

"But we rather have you two," Rocket said, "I can't stand those other sorcerers, they're too serious, Plus you're the best their is."

"Maybe I should go," Stephen said.

"I'll go, you watch the kids." You said, and before he could protest, you switched your civilian clothes for your robes with a quick spell (Morgan looking up at you in awe). "Guardians, I'll be right there. I'm gonna stop in Kamar Taj first to see if they have picked up anything on this. Be on your ship in a few."

"Sounds good, thanks (L/N)." Rocket said, and with that he ended the call.

"When will you be back?" Morgan tugged at your robes.

"Soon, I won't be long." You smiled at her.

Before you left, you gave hugs to Peter and Morgan, and a kiss on the cheek to Stephen. You held up your sling ring and opened a portal to Kamar Taj.

"Be careful." Stephen called. "and take the cloak."

The cloak of levitation flew into the room and right up to you. You caught the collar in your hand and slung it over your shoulders in a swift motion.

"I will." You replied and jumped through to your unexpected adventure.

“Mister Strange? Can you teach us how to do that?” Peter asked.

“No.”

“Aw...”

~~~

You stepped through your slingring portal, and heaved a heavy sigh. That was a crazy term of events, and working with any of the guardians was an experience in itself, let alone them all together. It turned out that the attackers of that planet were using the same kinda of sorcery you used. You helped stop the invasion, and passed on the information to the other sanctum masters.

Making your way through the Sanctum, dusting off your robes and rubbing your face off of dirt, you went to find Stephen and the kids to let them know you were back. Soon you heard voices, and followed the trail towards the kitchen. You heard laughter, and wondered what was going on. The voices started to get more clear.

"How long do we have to wait?"

"Twelve minutes."

"In the meantime we can clean up this mess we made. (Y/N) might freak out if she sees the kitchen looking like this."

"Peter made most of the mess!"

"I did not!"

"But you're the one who spilled the flour everywhere!"

"And you were trying to eat the chocolate chips!"

"Just help me clean up you two."

You slowly peered through the doorway, careful not to be seen, and saw the three of them surrounded by baking supplies and covered in flour. They all looked so happy, even Stephen looked like he was enjoying himself. There was laughter in his voice as he helped the kids tidy the place up.

"Hey uncle Stephen, where are the cloths?"

"In that cupboard, Morgan."

You're heart melted.

"Looks like you guys are having fun." You finally decided to stop watching them without their knowledge.

"What? We wanted cookies." Stephen said innocently.

"You're back!" Morgan cheered.

"How did it go?" Peter asked.

"Went well! I stopped a planet from blowing up and stopped some alien sorcerers, so I say it was a success." You answered, walking up to the counter and surveying the mess they have created.

"You're all dirty." Morgan looked up at you. Dirt covered your face and your robes, a few cuts on your skin, and hair untidy in its french braid. "Are you hurt?"

"No I'm okay." You reassured her.

The little girl scurried over to grab a cloth and came back. She gestured for you to lower to her height, so you knelled down and she wiped your cheeks and forehead.

"There!" She said, "All clean, and there's cookies in the oven for your after mission snack!"

You smiled, and got up to stand beside Stephen, "They give you any trouble while I was gone?"

"Not at all." He replied, still gathering some of the dirty dishes.

"Never knew you were good with kids, uncle Stephen." You laughed.

He shrugged with a smile, "Me either."

[tttinytrash]

A prompt from the legendary Shy! I decided to go with this one first because the most ideas to fill in the framework they so kindly provided sprung to mind immediately, but expect the other two they sent along at some point soon. I took the liberty of picking Classic and Underfell Sans for the cast, but the nicknames will probably have made that clear anyhow. I tried to change it up and made the prey brave rather than the nervous wreck I often default to, so hopefully that pans out. Enjoy!

Nerds really do have more fun.

You’re not entirely sure how your socially inept self had made friends as good as these two, but your life had definitely improved exponentially after their addition to it. Red and Classic were both skeletons, but that was immaterial to your friendship with the two.

For the moment you three were tinkering away in the lab the university provided for your research. You were attempting to make a version of the monsters’ inventories that was more accessible for humans, or a TARDIS pocket as Classic had taken to calling the project. You couldn’t argue the accuracy of the comparison, though the name would sadly have to change for copyright purposes at some point. The idea was to make a pocket that was larger on the inside, thereby vastly increasing storage capabilities for the denizens of the world without magical capabilities.

Classic was at the far workbench, going over the calculations yet again while you and Red were closer to the machine actually intended to form the dimensional pockets. The burned scraps of a grocery tote bag, the cremated remains of your latest failed attempt, hung in place in the machine for now despite the machine not being active. Red was shoulders deep in the thing, checking that the soldering on the wires were holding after another failed test. You were busy removing the latest scorches from the machine’s plating when you heard the dull hum start. 

You glanced over at saw the machine had started trying to form another rift, without any kind of vessel and without any of you having activated it. Worse, two thirds of the team was not even remotely beyond the safety perimeter! You didn’t even think, you just grabbed Red by the pelvis and dragged him out of the machine. You didn’t even process what he was saying, nor his angry tone as you bundled him up bridal style and bolted from the danger zone. 

You were almost in the clear when you heard the explosion behind you and felt the searing heat on your back. Well, as least you’d gotten your more sturdy human body between your 1HP monster companion and the blast, you had time to think. 

The pain ebbed as quickly as it came and you felt like you were in freefall...

-----

Red really didn’t know what the hell had just happened. 

He’d felt the human yank him out of the maintenance hatch, and the glow and crackling of building energy he could get from over their shoulder as they ran clued him in roughly and mollified his annoyance in favor of concern. Then there was heat and he felt his body fall to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Classic had been far enough away from the blast to be unharmed, and therefore was free to rush over to where Red lay. 

He groaned as the unharmed skeleton arrived, not missing the other’s visual sweep of his body for injury or dust. 

“are you ok? where’s y/n?” Classic asked.

Red’s skull whipped back, not finding the human on the floor with him as he’d expected. “i-i dunno! y/n?!”

“Here...” came the weak reply. 

Both skeletons homed in on the source quickly, which was oddly Red’s chest.

A tiny human lay on Red’s sternum sprawled as if having fallen. Y/n was severely reduced in size and dazed, but awake an aware much to both skeletons’ visible relief. Red scooped the sluggish human into his hands and did a Check on them. Their HP had definitely taken a hit, but they weren’t in the red. (Heh, nickname pun.)

The trio was collectively baffled, but the relief that everyone was ok for the most part was palpable. They now had the fun task of figuring out how to reverse this change. Oh. And the machine was smoldering, so that probably should be addressed too. This to do list was quickly looking very not fun.

-----

It was agreed upon (more like accepted, really) that a shrunken human really couldn’t live on their own in a house without any adaptations for such a small person. In the long term (Delta forbid this persisted long enough to need a long term solution) adjustments to your house could be arranged. In the short term, the skeleton pair would take turns hosting their human friend at their houses. 

Classic took the first night, as he and Vanilla (his brother) had a place closer than Red and his bro, Edge. At the moment, Vanilla was out of the house at a sleepover (arranged before the incident) with Undyne. This left Classic and the human alone, and eventually watching TV together. 

You had been set up with a fluffy hand towel for a blanket and set atop a pillow. Your pillow was on the couch cushion besides Classic, who sprawled with the grace of a sack of potatoes on his corner of the couch as he watched the cheesy sci-fi flick on screen. You were both making jokes throughout the movie, but as the night drew on and the ambient temperature dropped, you found your towel wasn’t quite warm enough. 

You were waiting for a break in dialogue to ask for another towel, but Classic beat you to it. He looked over as if he were about to crack a joke at the expense of the movie again, noticed your huddled posture, and paused the movie. “you cold, kiddo?”

“Yeah, a bit. Are there any more towels I could pile on, maybe?”

“i’ll do ya one better, c’mere.” He offered a flat palm, waiting patiently for you to board.

You didn’t really have to hesitate, trusting the guy already and curiosity spurred you on as well. He gently lifted you and your towel, dumped the pillow on the floor absently, and moved to sprawl flat over the whole couch instead. This left his chest as a flat plane, on which you were gently deposited.

You sat there, surprised at the new level of contact. Sure, you three nerds had crammed yourselves onto the loveseat at your place to watch TV or game together and ended up with hips mildly wedged against each other and shoulders bumping, but that was the closest you’d ever been. To now be seated on Classic’s sternum was new territory. 

“go ahead, get comfy and lay down. i don’t mind.” he encouraged. 

You took his advice, curling on your side facing the TV, towel still tented around you. Classic increased the warmth his body offered even more by taking the liberty to partially zip his ever-present blue jacket up to the point that your body was zipped in, but your head was outside the confines of the giant garment.

“better?” he asked.

“Yeah, much warmer.” You could easily affirm. 

While this was new territory, his casual attitude towards the whole thing dissipated the awkwardness you were feeling. Without that feeling, you really found you couldn’t complain. You liked cuddling anyhow, so finding a friend was also up for that was a boon in your book. 

The movie resumed without further incident, though you may or may not have totally fallen asleep on your friend. Eh, he didn’t seem to mind.

-----

It’d been a couple of weeks since the incident at the lab, and today was Red’s day for hosting y/n. Red was playing a campaign in a very story based game, with the human watching from their perch on his shoulder while Classic lounged on the other side of the couch. Playthroughs of games like this were common with their group, and the three would usually switch off who had the controller each session with the other two chipping in and offering advice. 

The biggest difference now was that y/n couldn’t take their turn with the controller, but they seemed content to snuggle into the fluff of Red’s hood, relishing in the warmth of their position by his cervical vertebrae. Ever since becoming small, they hadn’t been able to maintain their heat as well once the sun went down.

“I think I saw something on your left.” they offered. 

Red panned the camera that way to find an enemy, which was swiftly dealt with.

“thanks, pipsqueak.” Red said as he collected the dropped loot.

“No problem. Hey, do you think you could get the bathroom door for me?”

“oh, sure.” he paused the game and crossed over to the bathroom. He gently cupped the human into his hands and gingerly set them on the floor just before the threshold. Inside there was a bathroom setup of bitty furniture, an investment that had been made early on for each of the skeletons’ houses. Once they went inside, he closed the door without catching the latch so they could push it open once they were done. 

In the meantime, he approached the couch again where he saw Classic grinning at him.

“the hell you looking at?” Red groused.

Classic chuckled “a softy.”

Red felt the light blush on his face, much to his chagrin “shut the hell up. s’not like you aint doing the same damn thing.”

“well yeah, but i don’t try to claim i’m not a softy.”

Red groaned as he flopped petulantly onto the couch. “can’t help it, they’re just so small. plus, this is all my fault anyhow.”

“woah, what?” Classic sat up straighter, humor gone from his voice. “what do you mean, your fault?”

“i was fucking with the wiring when the machine started up. it had to be something i did that caused it to go haywire and blast them. least i can do is help em out when they need it.”

Classic was about to address the mountain of guilt Red had built upon himself, but was cut off by a growl from Red’s stomach.

“you hungry?” Classic asked, though Red knew he already had the answer to that question based on the tone. 

Red buried his face in his hands, responding “no, and the human aint gonna believe the ‘i just need a snack’ lie forever. i just wanna protect them so damn bad.”

“yeah, they’re too smart for us. plus, i’ve been using the same lie.”

Red unburied his face, asking “instinct is cropping up for you too, eh?”

“yeah. especially since they get so cold at night. it went downhill fast as soon as i realized we had an easy fix.”

“tell me about it. they were so uncomfortable when they first changed, i didn’t wanna add to the discomfort by asking them about it.”

“well, the machine is back in one piece now so we can start working to reverse this mess come monday when the university lets us back in.”

“yeah, thank delta for that.”

Neither one realized that the human had heard some of their conversation from the bathroom, nor that they refused to accept their friends were apparently hiding something from them. 

The human became determined to confront this issue that very night.

-----

Classic had gone home by now and you were settled in your bed, more of a nest of towels and an electric heated blanket than a real bed. Nest was probably a better term. 

Red hadn’t come into the room yet (you slept in the same room as him so he could help you off the desk and to the bathroom if you needed to make a trip in the middle of the night) so you instead thought about what you’d overheard and what you were going to say. You’d caught only snippets due to distance, knowing something about an instinct they were both trying to hide from you, and you’d also heard “all my fault” and desperately wanted to address that if it was regarding you, which the conversation had seemed to.

Your planning was cut short when he entered, in a loose black muscle tank and flannel PJ bottoms pattered with jolly roger flags flying over a grey background. He flopped onto the bed without ceremony amongst his tangled blankets and immediately started scrolling on his phone. 

You steeled yourself a moment before calling for his attention, leaving your nest behind on the beside table to approach the skeleton closer. “Hey, Red?”

He put down his phone, looking at you with a questioning grunt.

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I heard you and Classic earlier...”

Red looked mildly alarmed “what exactly did you hear?”

“Enough to know you guys are hiding things from me, and it sounded like it was about me. And something about this being ‘all your fault’?”

Red sat up leaving his face a little higher than you, and only a foot of distance from your perch to his shoulder. “yeah, well it is my fault. since i was the one tinkering, the machine had to have been fucked up by me. and now...” he gestured limply at you. “i’m gonna do my damndest to fix it, but i hate that i did this at all.”

“Cut the crap.”

Red looked as if he’d been slapped. He instantly went from hunched and quiet, reluctant to open up to you at all (probably only caving so early knowing you would keep badgering), to sitting straight up, eyes locked on you in obvious shock.

“This was an accident. No one is at fault.” you stated emphatically.

He looked ready to protest, eyebrows tilting down almost as if angry.

You cut him off again. “You never intended for this to happen. I don’t hold you responsible, or anyone else for that matter. But that doesn’t even matter. You just said you were going to fix it. That matters way more than fretting over the past we can’t change. No more self pity. Not allowed. Got it, mister?” You wagged a finger at him, refusing to be the one to break eye contact.

Red’s expression had mollified during your response, and he was the one who lost the game of eye contact chicken when he changed focus onto his folded hands in his lap. “forgot how much spunk you have, looks like the size change didn’t touch that.” he laughed a little.

“You mean you forgot what made us become friends in the first place? I’m hurt, Red.” You feigned pain, placing your hands over your heart.

His laugh was stronger this time “sorry, pipsqueak. won’t make that mistake again.” He ruffled your hair with a two fingers, which got you laughing too as you batted his invading phalanges away.

“you win. i’ll try to focus on fixing, not shitting on myself. fair deal?”

“Sounds good to me, bud.”

You two lapsed into silence.

You felt accomplished, but only half of your mystery had been solved. you decided to risk it and push farther. You’d back off if he resisted though, as you knew opening up at all was asking a lot of your somewhat emotionally constipated friend. “So... what was the instinct you two kept referring to?”

“damn, you’re relentless tonight!” he laughed again, flopping back onto his pillow.

“Well it’s got my two best friends in a twist over it, I wanna know what the hell is going on!” you defend, happy to keep up the more teasing tone.

“fine, fine. but you asked for it.”

“Yeah, yeah, lay it on me!”

He barked a laugh, “alright, pipsqueak. there’s a protective instinct that can rear up among monsters who’re less flesh based. it’s been triggered by your small size and our desire to help, but basically we wanna take you in.”

“Ya lost me right at the end, there.”

“figured i would. skeletons, and some other races of monsters, have the ability to take other creatures inside their own body harmlessly. more specifically, it’d be me and classic fighting the urge to eat you, but safely.”

“Safely.... eat?” The humor left your tone completely.

The humor was gone in his too, saying “yeah, that’s why we didn’t say anything. that reaction right there. but yes, basically eat minus the chewing bit. it’s safe and you’d be let out later, but the idea is to put us between you and danger. pretty damn literally. but a fleshbag like you wouldn’t be a fan and we both knew that going in. now ya know.” he looked away again, not so much looking at anything but apparently not wanting to look at you.

You thought back to all the times you’d caught either of them trying to sneak stomach growls past you or how oddly often they’d been claiming they’d needed a snack, or even that one time Red had tried (and failed) to play off getting caught wiping drool away. It all clicked into place and made so much more sense. But far more importantly, you didn’t like the resigned tone in his voice. 

You took a moment to process the new information in stifling silence, then asked “So... you thought I wouldn’t trust you?”

“what?” Red’s skull whipped around to fix you with a baffled look. “that’s not even close to what i said. i just meant it’d be pretty fuckin’ weird to you.”

“Yeah, well I went and made friends with two monsters after having shit luck with humans. I’d say I’m pretty open to new and weird.”

Red just blinked at you.

“If you want to, I’m unopposed. Go for it. You said it was triggered by a desire to help, and that it was safe. I trust you.”

Red’s brows were knit, sockets squinted a bit at you as he sat up. He stared you down like that, feeling like he was looking for the “gotcha” or any fear. You stared right back with nothing to hide, you weren’t afraid and didn’t want to take back what you’d said.

“yer sure?” he asked, sounding suspicious. 

“Yep.” You popped the P for emphasis.

“alright. i’ll let you out when you change your mind.” he shrugged, holding a hand out for you to board. 

You took that comment as a challenge and sat on his metacarpals confidently.

He brought you up toward his face while his free hand reached up from behind you, wrapping around your ribs under the arms. Using the new grip, he lifted you over his upturned face with your bare feet dangling in thin air over his opening mouth.

Ok, maybe your confidence had left a little. Your legs tucked up a bit in instinct, but you didn’t struggle when he guided your lower limbs into his mouth. You fought the urge to cringe away at the odd slick feeling of your feet sliding along his thick red tongue, or even more so at the feeling of his throat around your lower legs. 

You still trusted Red, that wasn’t the issue, so you decided to fight your instincts just as your friends had been fighting theirs and refused to show any fear. 

You pulled your arms in close to your chest when his grasping fingers left, and looked upwards as the world was sealed off by a wall of sharp teeth. Thankfully Red didn’t leave you waiting long, as a wet gulping sound drew your upper legs down with a surprisingly strong force. You clenched your teeth at that, barely keeping in the yelp of surprise. Another two gulps followed in quick succession, drawing your whole body into his waiting throat. The tissue around you pressed in, pushing you ever downward. 

For a brief moment during your decent, you felt a warm tingling sensation akin to the light buzz you felt the few times you’d come into contact with a magical construct (Red had lobbed a bone attack at you when you’d be particularly snarky a time or two, usually blue so you didn’t get hurt.) This tingle was much stronger, and you couldn’t describe it any better than saying it felt like Red. ...was that his soul? 

Your musing was cut off shortly after the buzz of magic left and you found yourself kicking a little in surprise when your legs had room to move. The rest of you spilled into the open space a moment later. 

You felt a bit dazed as you just sat there a moment. You were somewhat pulled back down to earth as you felt a pressure coming from outside. It was immediately obvious the pressure was his hand pressing in at you, and the hand started moving, rubbing you from outside in soothing circles, slowly moving up and down your back. Even if you were out of it, you had the wherewithal to realize that was incredibly cute. 

“alright, buyer’s remorse set in?” he asked.

“No...” you breathed, not quite done processing your current situation.

“you ok in there?” his tone was more concerned, the rubbing stopped but the pressure of his hand remained.

“Y-yeah!” You shook your head as if that would help clear the fog, clicking back into reality. “I’m ok. Wow, this is just... a lot.”

“sure you don’t want out?”

“Do you want me out?”

“...didn’t say that...” he mumbled.

You laughed, which earned you a half hearted growl.

“Hey, is it ok if I move around a little? I really want to, uh, check the place out now that I’m here if that’s cool.”

“oh, sure. i don’t care.”

He removed his hand, which left you free to experiment. Call it childish if you wanted, but you really wanted to feel out your new surroundings in an exceedingly literal sense.

-----

Holy shit this went so much better than he’d ever thought it’d go. The human was inside, no panic, and their soul had settled from the anxiety he’d been feeling during their decent. Guess they’d gone and proven him and Classic wrong. Again. Maybe he should expect that by now.

For now he laid back, feeling them slide back to the new lowest point as he got comfortable. He also very much heard their tiny squeak when they startled at the movement, which brought out a smile on him. He felt them quickly readjust, then felt a small point of pressure pushing outwards. A tiny moving bump raised in his shirt, showing where their small hands were pushing out. He didn’t protest, finding this all quite amusing.

On a whim, he used two fingers to push at that little raised bump. He heard them laugh, and then the bump showed up on a new spot, disappeared, and showed up again in yet another. This was a bizarre version of whack a mole, but he did play along until they ended the game with a breathy giggle. 

They were moving again, probably trying to stand given the two distinct points of pressure. They slowly wobbled a few steps before he distinctly felt the impact of them falling over. 

He laughed aloud at the “I’m good!” they called out.

Their movements inside were calm, but distinctly curious. It was all highly endearing on top of feeling good. The quieting of the protective instinct at last was also a welcome absence, leaving him feeling comfortable and secure. He didn’t really try all that hard to stifle his subsequent yawn. 

The responding, smaller yawn from inside was a bit of a surprise.

“tired?”

“We were getting ready for bed, dingus.”

“fair point. we turning this into a sleepover or you going back to your own bed?”

There was a pause, then “Fuck it, sleepover.”

“fine by me, pipsqueak. g’night.”

“Goodnight, bonehead.”

He felt their weight settle, then relax as they slipped into sleep. He decided to follow them, hands folded over his stomach to protect the precious cargo inside.

[sunnyie-eve]

Twenty Two | Spider-Mans

Series: Complicated | The Amazing Spider Man

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Takes place during No Way Home

PREVIOUS

"Are you seriously still going on about that? It was a forever ago Peter!" I stop swinging making him stop with me on top of a building.

"Yes, because you didn't give me a good enough reason why you went!" He throws his arms around.

"I'm sorry my reasoning wasn't a good enough reason for you Parker." I cross my arms letting out a sigh.

"Oh so we're using last names now, huh? Is that was we're doing Josephine?" He mocks my actions.

"I can't believe you're doing this again... We do this at least two times a week ever since you found out." I shake my head taking a seat on the ledge.

"Because your reasoning is stupid to me Maddie."

"I'm sorry it is to you but it wasn't to me okay! He tried saving me and I'm only here because he yelled out to you Peter. If he didn't... who knows maybe it would've been to late to catch me."

"But there had to be more to wanting to go see him and thank him, Maddie. If there wasn't more than that why didn't you tell me?" He sounds hurt.

"Because of how you would react would still be the same as now. To me it was important that I thank him. I told you we got close when we broke up. And on top of that I still felt bad for him. So I'm sorry for not telling you but saying my reasoning is stupid... Hurts." I stand up then lean back back to fall off the building before swinging home with him on my tail.

As he catches up grabbing my hand something happens and we hit a wall. "What the hell?" Peter stands up first then helps me up.

"Where the hell did the building come from?" I look up at it.

"Let's just get home." Peter grabs my hand and we start to walk home.

On the walk I notice very small differences than what I see every day. I look up and notice a billboard with a half picture of a boy and the other half spider man. The sign said Peter Parker is a Spider Man and that he was a murderer.

"Umm Peter... I don't think we belong here." I tug on his arm pointing up.

"That's not me. Who is that?" He looks up at the sign too.

"What the hell happened when we were swinging home? How did we end up in another universe?!" I ask trying to figure shit out.

"What does that mean our house isn't ours anymore in this world?" Peter asks me.

"I'm pretty sure yes... Thank god we have our suits on under our clothes."

"What do we do now?" He looks around.

"We find him." I look up at the other Peter.

"How do we do that?" He looks back at me.

"I don't know! Look around I guess. Come on." I grab his hand and we walk around.

We literally spend the whole day wondering around the city looking for him for two reasons. 1) To see what's going on. 2) Peter said he sense that he needs help. When it was dark out we just wear our suits walking in alleyways staying out of view.

"Go up and look around. I'll be done here." Peter tells me to I do as he says.

I spend a few minutes waking in top of buildings before deciding to go back down to Peter. "Nothing up there Peter." I don't see him so I walk around then see a portal down the alley. "Peter?!" I jog over and into the house.

"Wow. String theory, multi dimensional reality, and matter displacement. All real? I knew it." I walk inside and the all look at me.

"Wh-who are you?" A girl points at me eyeing me.

"Madeleine Josephine, Spider-Girl in our world." I tell them walking over to Peter who looked amazed.

"He has a MJ too but she's like him." The boy says so I'm guessing that was her name.

"You really didn't call me going through a portal?" I slap him.

"Spell? Like magic spell? Magic is real here too?" Peter hears what the other two were talking about.

"I mean. No it's not real. I'm mean there's magician's but there's still no like..." MJ gets him to shut up.

"Prove it." She looks at Peter.

"Prove what?" We asks confused.

"That you're Peter Parker." She eyes him.

"I don't carry an ID with me... it's kinda defeats the anonymous superhero thing." He explains to her but she throws a roll like food at him. "Why'd you do that?" He asks sadly.

"Try to see if you have the tingle thing." She explains.

"I do have the tingle thing just not for bread. Can you not throw the bread again." He says as she picks up another then throws it at me.

"Same as him but not for bread." I explain too.

"You're a deeply mistrusting person and I respect it." He tells her then jumps up sticking to the ceiling with one hand.

"Am I going to have to do that too or?" I ask pointing up at Peter but they are more focused on him which I was okay with.

"Crawl around." She tells him making me laugh.

"Crawl around?" He asks her taken back.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes, crawl around." She says in a stance to still throw bread.

"Why do I need to crawl around?" He ask confused.

"Cause this is not enough." She tells him.

"That is plenty." I saying making him agree with me and we go back and forth with yes's and no's.

"How do I stick to the ceiling?" He tells them.

"Do it." She throws another bread at him.

The boys grandma ends up asking I'm in another language then tells Peter she asked if he could get the cob webs in the corner.

"Since you're like up there?" Ned says so Peter just agreed crawling over to get it then gets down.

"We good?" He asks the two.

"For now." She turns to her friend and the talk leaving me and Peter to look at each other.

"I guess we keep doing it until we find the real one." She says to Ned.

"Ouch." Peter tells her.

"No offense." She looks back at us.

"He is a real one but boy from this universe. So you could have worded it differently." I add making Peter thank me.

"Find Peter Parker." Ned moves him arms around.

"What's the think on his hand..." She shushes him Ana I cover his mouth as Ned keeps trying.

Another portal opens behind him and another guy, slightly older, comes through.

"Great it's just some random guy." Ned says making me tilt my head.

"You two are rude." Peter slightly agrees with me.

"Hello, umm I hope it's okay I came through... it closed." He looks at the portal closes.

"You're Peter?" She asks him.

"Yeah, Peter Parker. I've seen you two. Hi... Wait he's not your friend." He says then sees my Peter.

The both stare at each other before shooting webs at each other.

"Wait you're Spider-Man too. Why didn't you just say that?" Ned asks him.

"I generally don't go around advertising it. Kinda defeats the whole Anonymous superhero thing." He said making my Peter says he just said that.

Ned's Lola tells him for the guys to clean of the webs they just shot and the agree.

"This is gonna seem weird but I've been trying to find your friend since I got here. I just have this sense that... that he needs my help." Older Peter tells them.

"Our help." My Peter adds.

"He does." She tells them.

"We don't know where he is." Ned adds.

"And umm, honestly we're all he really has left." She says.

"Does he have a place he goes to get away from things. A place that has meaning to him?" I ask her.

"For me it was The top of the Chrysler building." Older Peter says.

"Empire State. Better view." My Peter adds telling the other Peter and he agrees about the view.

"Yes. Yeah, I think I know exactly where that would be." She tells us so we all get to leaving.

NEXT

[930club]

We recently chatted with Jamie Stillman, owner and mastermind of Akron, Ohio’s Earthquaker Devices, one of the leading innovators in guitar pedals/effects. We touch on everything from general guitar nerdery to how the pandemic is affecting the day-to-day operations of EQD. You can delve more into everything Earthquaker Devices related here.

Dave Kezer [9:30 Club]: There’s a joke that anyone who starts to listen to rap immediately wants to try to rap. It seems like anyone who starts to build guitar pedals immediately thinks they can start a pedal company. What do you think it takes to actually get a company off the ground in a sustainable way?

LOL! I used to make a similar joke that every guitar player with a soldering iron is a pedal company. It used to feel that way, but I think the craze has died down. It takes a lot of patience, hard work, and (possibly most importantly) good ideas to build a stable effect pedal company. They almost always start out as a hobby and it’s good to realize when it has moved beyond that point. In my case, it was very important to realize when I was in over my head and when to bring on people who have real knowledge in handling the business on a day-to-day level and have the ability to look at the bigger picture. I have punk rock business skills which worked up to a point, but I’m better suited to the creative role.

In your EQDQ&A Ep. 1, you joked about how long it took you to truly start understanding the differences/complexities of gear. I nerd out on gear so much that sometimes I lose focus on just enjoying playing instruments for the sake of it. How far is too far when it comes to putting every facet of gear under the microscope?

I think the threshold is different for everyone. There are people who won’t settle down until every piece of gear they own is top of the line and Reddit approved and there are people who don’t give a shit if their cable crackles if it moves a certain way. I put myself in the middle. I don’t really care about the proven quality or name brand of whatever I’m using, and I just make sure it works 100% of the time whenever possible. I make an exception on pickups, cables and power supplies because I think those are the most important part of the equation for me personally. I’ll always use the best I can find, and I decide what is best by putting it to use and seeing how it performs.

Your feature on the Rainbow Machine focuses on the usability of weird pedals. Have you designed something so weird that it is truly unusable?

Personally, I don’t find the Rainbow Machine to be so weird, but a lot of other people do, so we ran with that. I know the “pixie trails” function of the Magic switch is obnoxious, but I think it’s cool. There are way weirder pedals out there, lol. I’ve definitely designed things that I thought were cool but not exactly functional in every setting, but I usually work to make them more multi-dimensional. There’s only one that I’ve been working on for a really long time that has a million controls with minimal functionality. I’m not sure I’ll ever finish it but it’s (kind of) fun to keep trying once or twice a year when the mood strikes.

Are there any guitars that you’re completely satisfied with and won’t continue to modify? It seems like for gear people (myself included), a piece of gear will operate at 99% of its maximum potential, but the search for that 1% will make your brain itch forever and lead to continued modification.

No, I constantly modify all of my guitars lol. I change pickups a lot, more than anyone should. The closest I think I’ve gotten to “perfection” would be my stock Nash Telecaster and a heavily modded Fender Jazzmaster. The Jazzmaster is a 60th anniversary that I gutted and replaced almost everything except the neck and body. It has Seymour Duncan custom shop ’59 humbuckers for Jazzmaster with 500K push/pull pots for coil tapping and the rhythm circuit is removed. It also has locking tuners, a Mastery vibrato, bridge, and string tree. It still feels too new, but it sounds perfect.

Your Reverb “Does This Work?” interview focuses on old effects and their tendency to break down over time. What are the typical things that cause old circuits to stop working?

In my experience it has been dust, humidity, and neglect resulting in bad switches, corroded solder joints, cracked wires and dried caps. I never get around to fixing my old gear though. I’ll get in there if I really want to use something, but I’ll usually turn it over to Joe Golden, our in-house repair wizard. Most of the broken gear in the Reverb video is still broken…

Two of my favorite EQD pedals are the Tentacle and the Acapulco Gold, if not simply because there are one/no options to choose from when getting sounds. I tend to get freaked out when I see a pedal that has 4+ knobs, which is something I’m working on, haha. Where do you draw the line when it comes to simplicity vs. versatility when designing pedals?

I used to have a “whatever it takes” approach to design as long as it wasn’t confusing for the general user, but I’ve been moving towards a “less is more” approach. I don’t think pedals should require hours of reading manuals and menu diving to use. The faster you can get to making actual music the better. That’s not to say I don’t have some elaborate, sometimes confusing, products in the pipeline but I’m generally leaning towards simple design.

Don’t mean to be a bummer, but I have to ask — how has the pandemic affected EQD’s business operations? If I understand correctly — it seems like your builders are assembling pedals at home?

We have taken the pandemic very seriously. We knew the shutdown was coming and some of our employees had already been working to get things in place to make the transition to home building as easy as we could. We had almost 50 employees working from home for almost three months and the production capacity was greatly reduced. We didn’t ship any product for about two months. We kept all the employees on the payroll and had regular Zoom meetings to keep everyone up to date on what we were doing. Now, as of June 16, 2020, we are still mostly working from home but we have a skeleton crew in the shop so we can populate PCB’s more efficiently and start shipping product. We completely rearranged the shop to spread people out and invested a lot of time and money into making it a safe and sanitary workspace. We have gone above and beyond all the recommended protocols — too many precautions to list. It would be very hard to catch any illness inside EQD now.

Do you have a favorite “Let’s Go!” guitar riff? For example, whenever I’m driving and “Unchained” comes on the radio, I dime the volume and start driving like a complete lunatic.

I’m pretty reserved but, oddly enough, “Unchained” is also one of my favorite riffs ever! I think I play it at least once every time I pick up a guitar. Also a big fan of “Siberian Khatru” by Yes once it kicks in. Same with “In the Light” and “Rain Song” by Led Zeppelin and anything on Sonic Youth’s Sister. I guess these are more riffs that I wish I wrote than riffs that make me lose my shit. I guess most of them also make me sound like a real dad rocker too.

Is there a piece of gear you’ve spent a completely stupid amount of money on simply because you had to have it?

Yes, a Sunn Model T and it was worth every penny! It’s the most perfect amp I’ve ever owned.  

Not asking you to talk smack, but do you have a “Dumbest Pedal Ever Designed” award in your head?

I’ll keep my mouth shut on this one.

Finally, have you been through D.C. while touring or seeing shows? Anything about D.C. venues or the music scene in general you’d like to share?

I’ve been through D.C. about six or seven times, maybe more. I’ve always held D.C. in high regard because of Dischord records and bands like Ignition, Bad Brains, Jawbox, Fugazi, etc. 9:30 Club is actually one my favorite venues ever. I’ve been through twice when I was tour managing and the staff was super friendly and accommodating, which is unfortunately rare in the touring world. It also has the best green room of any venue I ever worked in; the bunks are a nice touch!

— Dave Kezer

[lthmath]

Recently we have been reorganizing our LThMath Book Club. The whole idea behind it is to read and discuss books with other people. We are happy that the Goodreads Club grew to 272 people. Recently people have been asking if we can use other platforms for the Book Club as well. Therefor, we have created a Facebook Group with the same idea as the Goodreads one. After the first 2 months we have reached 226 members in the group and we have some really great book recommendations. Hope you all enjoy the idea.

Due to this change, we cannot do just a Goodreads poll for the bi-monthly book. Therefor, we decided to do a survey (created using Google forms). In this way more people can vote for the book. If you want to vote, you need to do it HERE.

  “The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage: The (Mostly) True Story of the First Computer” by Sydney Padua

The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage presents a rollicking alternate reality in which Lovelace and Babbage do build the Difference Engine and then use it to build runaway economic models, battle the scourge of spelling errors, explore the wilder realms of mathematics, and, of course, fight crime—for the sake of both London and science. Complete with extensive footnotes that rival those penned by Lovelace herself, historical curiosities, and never-before-seen diagrams of Babbage’s mechanical, steam-powered computer, The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage is wonderfully whimsical, utterly unusual, and, above all, entirely irresistible.

“The Code Book: The Science of Secrecy from Ancient Egypt to Quantum Cryptography” by Simon Singh

Simon Singh offers the first sweeping history of encryption, tracing its evolution and revealing the dramatic effects codes have had on wars, nations, and individual lives. From Mary, Queen of Scots, trapped by her own code, to the Navajo Code Talkers who helped the Allies win World War II, to the incredible (and incredibly simple) logisitical breakthrough that made Internet commerce secure, The Code Book tells the story of the most powerful intellectual weapon ever known: secrecy.

Throughout the text are clear technical and mathematical explanations, and portraits of the remarkable personalities who wrote and broke the world’s most difficult codes. Accessible, compelling, and remarkably far-reaching, this book will forever alter your view of history and what drives it.  It will also make you wonder how private that e-mail you just sent really is.

“Things to Make and Do in the Fourth Dimension: A Mathematician’s Journey Through Narcissistic Numbers, Optimal Dating Algorithms, at Least Two Kinds of Infinity, and More” by Matt Parker

In the absorbing and exhilarating Things to Make and Do in the Fourth Dimension, Parker sets out to convince his readers to revisit the very math that put them off the subject as fourteen-year-olds. Starting with the foundations of math familiar from school (numbers, geometry, and algebra), he takes us on a grand tour, from four dimensional shapes, knot theory, the mysteries of prime numbers, optimization algorithms, and the math behind barcodes and iPhone screens to the different kinds of infinity―and slightly beyond. Both playful and sophisticated, Things to Make and Do in the Fourth Dimension is filled with captivating games and puzzles, a buffet of optional hands-on activities that entice us to take pleasure in mathematics at all levels. Parker invites us to relearn much of what baffled us in school and, this time, to be utterly enthralled by it.

“A Beautiful Mind” by Sylvia Nasar

Economist and journalist Sylvia Nasar has written a biography of Nash that looks at all sides of his life. She gives an intelligent, understandable exposition of his mathematical ideas and a picture of schizophrenia that is evocative but decidedly unromantic. Her story of the machinations behind Nash’s Nobel is fascinating and one of very few such accounts available in print.

We are very interested in this book due to the movie “A Beautiful Mind”. It is an incredible, emotional and interesting movie about the life of John Nash. If this book was chosen, we believe it would be a great idea to watch the movie after we read the book. What do you think?

“Lost in Math: How Beauty Leards Physics Astray” by Sabine Hossenfelder

Whether pondering black holes or predicting discoveries at CERN, physicists believe the best theories are beautiful, natural, and elegant, and this standard separates popular theories from disposable ones. This is why, Sabine Hossenfelder argues, we have not seen a major breakthrough in the foundations of physics for more than four decades. The belief in beauty has become so dogmatic that it now conflicts with scientific objectivity: observation has been unable to confirm mindboggling theories, like supersymmetry or grand unification, invented by physicists based on aesthetic criteria. Worse, these “too good to not be true” theories are actually untestable and they have left the field in a cul-de-sac. To escape, physicists must rethink their methods. Only by embracing reality as it is can science discover the truth.

Looking at the general description, this sounds more like a book about physics but we are still interested to see how the author deals with the bondary between mathematics and physics. Also, this book was released in 2018.

“How Long is a Piece of String? More Hidden Mathematics of Everyday Life” by Rob Eastaway and Jeremy Wyndham

In this book, you will find that many intriguing everyday questions have mathematical answers. Discover the astonishing 37% rule for blind dates, the avoidance tactics of the gentleman’s urinal, and some extraordinary scams that have been devised to get rich quick. Also included are the origins of the seven-day week and the seven-note scale, an explanation of why underdogs win, clever techniques for detecting fraud, and the reason why epidemics sweep across a nation and disappear just as quickly. Whatever your mathematical ability, this fun, thought-provoking book will illuminate the ways in which math underlies so much in our everyday lives.

“A Brief History of Infinity” by Brian Clegg

Infinity is a concept that fascinates everyone from a seven-year-old child to a maths professor. An exploration of the most mind-boggling feature of maths and physics, this work examines amazing paradoxes and looks at many features of this fascinating concept.

After reading “Beyond Infinity” by Eugenia Cheng, this book might feel like a double kill especially if you feel like you need a break from infinity. On the other hand, we find the concept so mesmerizing that we just want to find out more about it.

“Gamma: Exploring Euler’s Constant” by Julian Havil

Among the many constants that appear in mathematics, π, e, and i are the most familiar. Following closely behind is y, or gamma, a constant that arises in many mathematical areas yet maintains a profound sense of mystery. In a tantalizing blend of history and mathematics, Julian Havil takes the reader on a journey through logarithms and the harmonic series, the two defining elements of gamma, toward the first account of gamma’s place in mathematics. Gamma takes us through countries, centuries, lives, and works, unfolding along the way the stories of some remarkable mathematics from some remarkable mathematicians.

“Magical MAthematics: The Mathematical Ideas that Animate Great Magic Tricks” by Persi Diaconis and Ron Graham

Magical Mathematics reveals the secrets of fun-to-perform card tricks–and the profound mathematical ideas behind them–that will astound even the most accomplished magician. Persi Diaconis and Ron Graham provide easy, step-by-step instructions for each trick, explaining how to set up the effect and offering tips on what to say and do while performing it. Each card trick introduces a new mathematical idea, and varying the tricks in turn takes readers to the very threshold of today’s mathematical knowledge. The book exposes old gambling secrets through the mathematics of shuffling cards, explains the classic street-gambling scam of three-card Monte, traces the history of mathematical magic back to the oldest mathematical trick–and much more.

We have read another book by Persi Diaconis (“Ten Great Ideas about Chance”) and we thought we could give it a try to another of his books, this time more fun and less stickt. If you want to find out more about “Ten Great Ideas about Chance” and what I thought about it, you can check the reivew.

“Here’s Looking at Euclid: A Surprizing Excursion Through the Astonishing World of Math” by Allex Bellos (also called: “Alex’s Adventures in Numberland”)

Bellos has traveled all around the globe and has plunged into history to uncover fascinating stories of mathematical achievement, from the breakthroughs of Euclid, the greatest mathematician of all time, to the creations of the Zen master of origami, one of the hottest areas of mathematical work today. Throughout, the journey is enhanced with a wealth of intriguing illustrations, such as of the clever puzzles known as tangrams and the crochet creation of an American math professor who suddenly realized one day that she could knit a representation of higher dimensional space that no one had been able to visualize. Whether writing about how algebra solved Swedish traffic problems, visiting the Mental Calculation World Cup to disclose the secrets of lightning calculation, or exploring the links between pineapples and beautiful teeth, Bellos is a wonderfully engaging guide who never fails to delight even as he edifies. “Here’s Looking at Euclid “is a rare gem that brings the beauty of math to life.

We hope this helped you decide what book you would like to read in August – September with us. Hope you liked this post. Have a great day. You can find us on Facebook,  Tumblr, Twitter and Instagram. We will try to post there as often as possible.

  October – November Book Choice Recently we have been reorganizing our LThMath Book Club. The whole idea behind it is to read and discuss books with other people.

[artificialqueens]

intents wicked or charitable (trixya) 8/10 - beanierose

AN: thanks as always to validation station for cheering me on, and stutter for looking at this over and over again and being gentle and kind each time.

(read on ao3) | (find me at katiehoughton)

[one.] [two.] [three.] [four.] [five.] [six.] [seven.]

a practical magic au for the spooky season. there’s a curse on any man who dares love you? love a woman, instead. | 5,141 words

The nearest bar is a town over but Trixie keeps driving until she gets to the next town after that. The chance that she’ll see somebody she knows is much too high. Everybody in the whole town has been laughing at her behind her back, and if she has to face them right now she will start screaming. She feels it building at the base of her throat, and if she lets it out she doesn’t know how she’d ever stop.

Since she left Los Angeles, she’s only gotten drunk that one time in Katya’s kitchen. She’s out of the habit, now. Katya doesn’t drink, and Trixie doesn’t like to drink in front of her. She’s had the occasional glass of wine with dinner, but even that she hasn’t indulged in since they-

Well. Since they what?

Trixie hasn’t ever been courageous enough to put words to it, to ask Katya to commit to a label. She’s been pretending that she’s the sort of casual, low-maintenance person who doesn’t need to use words like relationship and girlfriend, but she isn’t. In her head, she’s been thinking of Katya that way, but for all she knows Katya doesn’t see her like that. For all she knows, Katya has a whole string of dumb, impressionable women bobbing along behind her like buoys on a line.

Trixie settles herself on a stool and gets a concerned tilt of the head from the bartender. Her hair is wet. Once she got Cash settled in the cowshed with his brother and spent a long time kneeling in the hay petting Guthrie’s nervous head, she took a shower.

She brushed and flossed and swilled mouthwash twice. Her mouth still tastes artificial, like mint, and she keeps working her tongue around her teeth. Trixie asks the bartender for his recommendation and orders that. When it comes it’s some kind of cocktail that’s pink and way too sweet, and it tastes awful in her toothpaste mouth, but she drinks half of it down without pausing for breath.

Her stomach is empty. On the stove the crockpot had burned dry. She’d come in the mudroom door and smelled it right away. It’s supposed to be foolproof, and she has a fucking Michelin star. Trixie had pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead and allowed herself to bend double for just a minute. Dolly had been looking for her dinner, hanging her head over her empty dish and whining insistently. Trixie fed her, turned off the crockpot, dumped her whole ruined dinner into the sink.

She sucks down the rest of the cocktail until she hits ice and her straw makes that awful, dry sucking noise. The alcohol is beginning to hit her now and she takes her first deep breath in hours, lets it all out in one long shuddering exhale.

The bartender has already prepped a second drink for her without her asking and he slides it wordlessly along the counter to her. After her shower she looked at herself in the mirror over the sink for a long time; she knows it’s bad. Her face is swollen and pink, her eyes glassy.

All of the Verbena products that Katya’s ever given her — the ones from that very first time they met and the things she’s tucked into Trixie’s coat pockets for her to find later — had littered the countertop. Trixie swept them all off into the wastebasket.

Katya certainly has a cabinet full of potions that would make her feel better. Now that she’s thinking about it, she’s sure every product Katya has ever given her has been imbued with a little magic. She could probably just press her hands to Trixie’s raw cheeks and think very hard about it and make the redness and the swelling disappear. The indignity of that, the shame of the imbalance between them, brings a fresh rush of hot tears. She keeps thinking she’s cried herself out and then her breath shudders in her chest and another wave hits her.

Being alone in the house had unsettled her. She’s let Katya in to her life, the tiny world she was inhabiting all by herself, and now the solitude she used to crave just makes her skin prickle. Sitting by herself at the bar is not that much better, but the alcohol is helping.

Mortification still burns in the pit of her stomach. Everyone in the whole town has been looking at her with pity, and Katya most of all. Trixie circles her finger around and around the rim of her glass. She used to be able to make it sing, but it’s been a while since she’s tried it and all she can manage is an unpleasant squeak.

“Can I get a sidecar, and a glass of water for her? Thanks, Will.”

Trixie turns to see Violet, the femme fatale from the grocery store, arranging herself delicately on the stool next to Trixie’s. Her hair is down from its ponytail and pinned up at the front in two victory rolls that accentuate the taut pull of her face, her sharp cheekbones and the V of her cupid’s bow.

Out of her uniform polo, Violet’s waist is waspish to a degree that makes Trixie nervous for her. Sitting beside her at the bar, even two towns over, is making Trixie feel pudgy and too big for her skin. The first time the two of them met, Trixie had been unmoored by her feelings for Katya and the wet ends of her hair had dripped onto the floor of the grocery store. Now her hair is wet again, and there’s a chasm in her chest. Trixie works the knuckles of two fingers against her breastbone and doesn’t meet Violet’s eyes.

“Thank you for calling Betty a hateful bitch. She fucking is.”

It seems a peculiar way to open the conversation. Violet accepts the champagne saucer from the bartender and holds it delicately by the stem. She takes a careful sip, somehow managing not to slurp or get the sugar from the rim of the glass stuck to her lipstick. Trixie feels like she’s encountered an apparition and has to blink a couple of times to shake it off.

She’s annoyed to be babied, but she drinks a little of her water anyway. She feels it hit her stomach. It’s so empty that it’s aching, clenched like a fist and drawing the rest of her in tight. Another wave of nausea crests up and she breathes slowly through it. She really doesn’t want to get sick again. Not in front of Violet.

Violet sets her glass down, carefully so as not to spill it, and folds her hands neatly in her lap. It makes Trixie nervous, and when she’s nervous she talks.

“You’re the only one who doesn’t hate Katya.”

It gets a laugh out of Violet. Like every other time, it’s startling. It’s like she suddenly remembers that she’s a three-dimensional person and not an art installation and she tips her head back, her mouth open wide.

“They don’t like, hate her. They’re afraid of her.”

There’s a bruise blooming furiously purple at the base of Trixie’s spine, from pressing herself against the cabinets as Katya approached her. It hurts when she leans on the back of the barstool. “For good fucking reason, don’t you think?”

“Are you scared of her, Trixie?” Violet arches one perfectly carved brow.

That’s the worst part. It’s the most humiliating part. Trixie doesn’t care about the magic. She’s not upset that Katya is a witch, and she’s not afraid of her. She was ready to stand by her when there was a chance she might have killed somebody. This isn’t worse than that.

“No. I guess not.”

Violet takes another sophisticated sip of her drink. She doesn’t put it down this time, instead gesturing at Trixie with the glass. “That’s what I thought, you bitch.”

They don’t know each other well. Trixie’s seen Violet around town a few times, and she came in to Verbena once while Trixie was there, but this is the first time they’ve been alone together. It isn’t like her, to be so loquacious with somebody she barely knows, but the alcohol and the ache in her chest have left her vulnerable.

“I never had enough information to be scared. I didn’t know I was supposed to be. She didn’t even give me the courtesy of letting me know that that should cross my mind.”

“Wait, what?” Violet sets her glass down, and this time a little of her drink does slosh over the rim and onto the countertop. “What do you mean you didn’t know? Oh my God. Oh my God. You only just found out? Bitch, I’m dead! That’s like, so major.”

Violet’s voice is loud enough that a few people nearby have turned to look, and Trixie feels the insistent bloom of embarrassment in her pink cheeks. It’s not busy enough tonight that she’s worried about it, but she’d prefer not to be overheard.

“I’m the only person who didn’t know, apparently,” she mutters.

“Well yeah, you dumb bitch. We’ve all known her for like, her whole life. It’s whatever. Like, we’ve all seen it for ourselves. You haven’t? Not even when you’ve been fu-” Trixie’s cheeks flame and she glances down at her lap. “Okay. Damn.”

Violet snags the bartender down again and asks him for a couple bags of chips. They seem to know each other, because he questions her about her dog — Trixie didn’t even know she has one — and she asks after his wife. Trixie sits sullenly like a chastised child and works on her glass of water.

She doesn’t really feel like eating, but Violet opens both bags down the middle and sets them on the counter between the two of them. A wave of longing for Katya surges up from the pit of Trixie’s stomach so suddenly that it takes her by surprise and she bites the inside of her cheek.

“It’s different with you two. You shop at her store. You defend her in public.”

“I fucked her,” Violet says calmly.

Trixie’s water goes down the wrong way and she chokes a little bit. It’s very undignified. The spluttering hack of her lungs would be embarrassing if she had any energy left for that. Violet lets her cough it out, wordlessly hands her a couple of paper napkins. When it’s over, she shifts to cross her legs at the opposite ankle. Trixie looks at her long nails, her tiny waist, the way her hair moves in one glossy sheet when she moves her head.

“A couple of times,” Violet gives Trixie the most disinterested, apathetic shrug. “It was no big deal.”

“You- when was this?”

Violet rolls her eyes and chews delicately on a couple of chips. The wait is excruciating. Trixie picks at her nail beds, bites the swollen inside of her cheek. Obviously, there’s a lot she doesn’t know about Katya, but she doesn’t want to believe that she would actually…it seems impossible.

“She didn’t like, cheat on you, you dumb whore.” Relief drops heavily over Trixie so that her shoulders sag. “It was before she was even married. We were both…figuring some things out. You know what I mean?”

“Did you date?” Violet levels her with a look. “Right. Sure. I just- you defended her.”

“Trixie, I’m a lesbian.”

Hearing it said so plainly sends a small thrill through Trixie, even though it isn’t the first time she’s heard it. She’s said it herself, lots of times to lots of people, but it’s different here. Violet seems entirely unbothered, and Will the bartender is right there but he doesn’t even look up.

“You think I don’t like, understand having a secret? You think I don’t get what it would be like to be an- to be an outcast?” She waves one hand flippantly. Trixie keeps getting stuck on those nails, dark red and shiny and filed into stiletto points.

“Oh please, look at yourself,” Trixie scoffs. “You’d never be an outcast, you femme fucking bitch.”

Violet’s eyes widen and she tilts her head. It makes one perfect curl tip forward over her shoulder. “Oh?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know. I saw you checking yourself out in the napkin holder, you whore.”

That gets a laugh, Violet’s mouth open wide again. Trixie sees the pink dart of her tongue against her white teeth and it makes her think of Katya, because everything makes her think of Katya. Violet shifts in her stool and crosses her legs at the knee so the toe of her absurd heel just barely brushes Trixie’s shin.

“No, I know I’m everything. Mama, please. How could I not. It’s just…interesting to hear that you think that.” Violet reaches out and rests her hand at Trixie’s forearm. Her eyes are even more sultry than usual so that they’re hardly even open.

“I’m sorry, what’s this?”

“Do you maybe want to work through your frustration?”

Trixie screeches, can’t help herself, and snatches her arm out from underneath Violet’s grip. She shunts her barstool backwards for good measure, to put an extra inch or two of space between them. “No! Oh my God! It’s just a compliment, it doesn’t mean that I want to fuck you. You lunatic.”

“You think I’m hot but you don’t want to fuck me?” It seems to dawn on Violet quite slowly. Trixie finishes the last of her water, traces her fingertip around and around in the salt left on the foil of the chip bag. “Oh! Ohhhh. You’re like, really in love with her aren’t you?”

“It fucking sucks,” Trixie says, and is horrified to feel the burn of tears again. Now that she’s rehydrated a fresh wave is threatening and giving her headache.

Violet doesn’t seem at all shaken at being shot down by Trixie. She can’t imagine what that must be like. Trixie’s pretty confident; the descriptors attached to her throughout the years have run the gamut from self-assured to arrogant bitch. Violet is a different creature entirely.

“Well yeah, you dumb bitch. That’s like, what love is like.” Trixie drops her head into her hands. “It makes your heart race. It turns the world upside down. Whatever. But if you’re not careful, if you don’t like, keep your eyes on something still, you can lose your balance. Know what I mean?”

“Yes. Yeah,” she mutters without lifting her head to look at Violet.

A cool, bony hand comes to rest at Trixie’s shoulder. It makes her flinch in spite of herself. She has only been touched by Katya for such a long time. She is only interested in being touched by Katya, even now. It’s a peculiar thing: she wants Katya to be here, to be the one comforting her, but she’s the reason that Trixie is hurting in the first place. The cognitive dissonance is making her feel a bit untethered to reality, like at any moment she could float up to the ceiling.

“It’s like, you can’t see what’s happening to the people around you. You can’t see that you’re about to fall.”

Trixie straightens up, then. Her forehead feels hot. “You think I didn’t notice the witch in my bed because I’m such a dumb lovesick idiot?”

“Girl, I get it. I know what it’s like. She’s pretty captivating.” Violet’s grinning now. She drains the last of her sidecar and nudges her empty glass over towards the bartender.

“It’s so embarrassing.” Trixie pinches the bridge of her nose hard. It doesn’t really help to stave off her headache, but it does give her an excuse not to have to look at Violet for just a moment.

Clearly, she’s a regular here. Will has poured out a soda for her without needing to be asked, and he offers one to Trixie as well. She declines, because she really needs to eat something more substantial than half a bag of chips before she drinks anything else at all.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Violet presses her lips together and rakes her eyes over Trixie very slowly. “Not about that, anyway. This wet hair, mama.”

“Fuck off.”

Violet grins at Trixie around her straw. It’s humid in the bar with body heat and alcohol and Trixie’s hair is frizzing as it dries, but Violet is still sleek and shiny. It’s like she’s been encased in resin or vacuum sealed.

“She told me that she hoped she would never fall in love. That she used to whisper it to herself when she was a little kid. Sitting at the top of the stairs watching her aunts helping people with potions and all that shit, I don’t know. Isn’t that the saddest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“When we first met, you said something about a curse.”

“Oh, yeah. People say that there’s like a curse on her family. That any man she loves is destined to die. It’s just because her parents died and her aunts were spinsters and then when Michael died…people are gossipy and bored and fucking dumb. That’s all it is, Trixie.”

“Yeah, but if the magic is real-”

“Even if there is a curse,” Violet cuts in and lifts one hand. She has a gold ring just above the knuckle of her middle finger, and a red indentation in her pointer finger. “It’s on men. I don’t think you should worry about that. You’re not gonna die.”

“Oh, I’m not worried. You said the curse is on the people that she loves, right? I’m safe.”

Violet very suddenly loses all of her decorum and honks out a laugh. Both hands fly up to her hair and she skims her fingers delicately against the tight pin curls like she’s worried they might have come loose with that outburst.

“Trixie, you dumb fucking bitch. She’s head over heels for you. Sometimes when I’m working nights she comes into the store and just sits at my register and like, talks and talks and talks about you.”

“She does?”

They spend most of their nights together. There have been a few times when Katya has needed to be up extra early to accept a delivery, or Trixie has had a moment of claustrophobia, and they’ve spent an evening apart. She’s wondered, those times, what Katya’s doing while Trixie soaks in the bathtub with the radio turned down low.

“Yes.” Violet sighs. There’s a tiny smudge of dark eyeliner just below her left eye. “God. I know more about the two of you and your relationship than I ever needed to.”

Trixie clears her throat. She’s spent the whole day feeling foolish and chastised, and a small childish creature in the pit of her stomach wants to go home and pull the sheets over her head.

“I didn’t know that.”

“She’s not so great with the emotional honesty stuff. Not since Michael. It’s hard for her to like, open up or whatever.”

Violet has finished her soda and she shunts the empty glass down the bar towards Will. She declines the offer of another and folds her hands neatly together in her lap again. She meets Trixie’s eyes, insists upon it, but hers are warm and kind.

“But I know she cares about you a whole lot. Her face lights up when someone even mentions you, it’s disgusting.”

Trixie has chewed on the inside of her cheek so much that it’s raw and swollen. She probes at the sore spot with the tip of her tongue.

“I thought she was…” There are things she hasn’t gotten the chance to say yet. And even though she so desperately wants to speak them into existence, Katya deserves to be the first person to hear it. Not Violet. “I care about her so much. I just don’t understand why she couldn’t trust me with this. I trust her. I trusted her.”

Violet slides off her barstool in one fluid motion like water poured from a tall glass. She holds out her hand to Trixie, and when she doesn’t take it she clicks her tongue and grabs Trixie by the wrist to haul her to her feet.

“Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

“My car-”

Violet puts a couple of folded bills down on the bar and calls out a goodbye to Will. Now that she’s on her feet Trixie is a bit woozy and she’s glad for Violet’s arm hooked through hers.

“I’ll bring you back in the morning to get it. You look like a fucking nightmare, mama. Let’s go.”

It’s kind of nice to be on autopilot for a little bit. The ground rushes up to meet Trixie with each step that she takes and she clings to Violet, allowing herself to be babied. She’s not entirely cooperative when Violet tries to get her into the passenger seat. When the door is closed she slumps against it, her cheek pressed to the cold of the window. The engine makes the whole car vibrate and Trixie feels it into the roots of her teeth. Whenever they hit an uneven patch of road she’s jostled, her head lolling back and forth.

She doses off a little bit. The cold of the car is sobering her up, but she still feels pleasantly outside of herself. Violet doesn’t play any music or the radio and the silence makes it difficult to tell how much time is passing. She cuts the engine, and the sudden cessation of movement makes Trixie’s eyes open. She grunts and immediately closes them again, covers them with a hand for good measure.

“Nuh-uh. No. I wanna go home, Violet.”

“You can’t like, ignore her. Be a grownup. Tell her what you told me.”

Trixie huffs a sigh and peels one eye open. “That I think you’re hot?”

“No, you rotted bitch!” Violet is uncomfortably loud in the intimate confines of the car. “That you care about her. That you love her.”

“I did tell her that.”

“Tell her again. Tell her while you’re not crying.”

Violet leans across Trixie and opens the passenger door. She hadn’t really noticed it getting warm in the car but the middle of the night cold is rushing in unpleasantly now. Trixie gets out, because Violet has unbuckled her belt for her and is shoving on her arm and she’s going to fall on her ass in the snow if she doesn’t.

There’s a whisper of movement inside as Trixie trudges up the driveway. She didn’t have the presence of mind to put her coat on earlier this evening and she’s shivering in just her sweater after only a couple of steps. It’s sobering her up. The front door pops open before Trixie even makes it up the porch steps and Katya comes out to grab her and tug her inside.

It’s warm, because Katya’s house always is. There’s a fire burning in the grate and Katya brings her all the way into the living room and sits her down on the couch. She fusses with a blanket, tucking it around Trixie, and she eases her boots off for her so that she can curl her sock feet up onto the couch cushion.

Katya kneels at her feet. Even in the firelight, Trixie sees the red tip of her nose and her swollen eyes and satisfaction twists in her stomach for just a moment. It’s swiftly replaced by a grief that rushes through her like a saline flush. She doesn’t want Katya to hurt; even just a few hours’ distance has clarified that for her.

“Trixie, honey, what are you doing?” Katya says very softly. For just a moment she’s a stranger, and then she gets those twin creases between her brows that Trixie loves to kiss off her.

Trixie is grouchy and petulant and it spills out in her voice. “Violet is an agent of chaos.”

It startles a laugh out of Katya. She looks very small, kneeling on the floor. It reminds Trixie of the last time she was drunk. Trixie frees a hand from the blanket and lays it on the couch cushion close to Katya’s head. She takes it immediately and threads their fingers together, rests her cheek to the back of Trixie’s hand.

“Are you okay?” Trixie nods, but Katya doesn’t seem entirely convinced. “You’re good?”

She feels suddenly weepy again. Trixie scrapes a clumsy hand through her hair and encounters a knot that makes her hiss a breath through her teeth. “It sucks that even when you’re the one who hurt me, you’re also the only person I want to see. I really hate you for that.”

“You’ve been feeling drawn to me, haven’t you. Since we met.”

Katya sounds exhausted. She’s still resting her head against the clasp of their hands and her lashes brush Trixie’s skin with each slow blink. Even in the wan light of the late evening, even from this angle, even after so much sorrow today, she is still so beautiful that Trixie can hardly bear to look at her.

There’ve been a couple of times when she’s tried to bring it up, tried to ask Katya if she feels the same tug low down in her stomach, the same sharp, curved hook. The problem is, Trixie allows herself to be easily distracted. She’s a talker, and she’s needed reassurance, but Katya will slide a knee over Trixie’s thighs or curl her fingers at Trixie’s ears and the words just don’t seem so urgent anymore.

“Yeah, I have. You’re a banshee.”

Katya turns her head to kiss the back of Trixie’s hand, a little scrape of teeth to show that she really means it. “That’s not what banshees do, baby.”

“Are they real too?” If she had the energy, if she weren’t exhausted and hurting and still a little drunk, Trixie might rear up from the arm of the couch. She stays slumped, and she doesn’t press the issue when Katya doesn’t answer.

“The reason that you have been — the reason that you’re here — is because I sent for you.” Katya’s eyes are closed now, like she doesn’t think she can make it through her explanation if she has to look at Trixie. “When I was a tiny little girl I worked a spell, so I would never fall in love. I asked for qualities that I knew couldn’t possibly exist. But here you are.”

She sounds so achingly sad that Trixie can’t bear it. From the moment they first met, Trixie has wanted Katya. She made herself wait, because she knew that they had something worth being careful with. She isn’t about to waste all of that hard work.

She slides off the couch, bringing the blanket with her, and lands half in Katya’s lap in a messy knot. Katya’s arms come around her and she arranges them both, frees the edge of the blanket where it’s gotten trapped beneath Trixie and threatens to tip her over.

It’s not exactly comfortable, but Katya is warm and smells like herself. Trixie lets her heavy head rest at Katya’s shoulder. “You’re saying what I feel for you is just one of your spells?”

“Yeah.” There’s a wet lump of sorrow in Katya’s throat that she has to cough to clear. “It’s not real, honey.”

“Yeah well all relationships have problems,” Trixie says.

It makes Katya laugh a tiny bit. She’s got one hand cradling the back of Trixie’s head now. The floor is uncomfortable, making Trixie’s ass go numb, but she’s so tired that she can’t imagine trying to move.

If Katya has been thinking that this entire time. If Katya has been certain that Trixie doesn’t really love her, that she’s bewitched-

Trixie can’t bear that.

“I’m right, aren’t I? You don’t know for sure.”

She sounds so resigned to it. Trixie can’t stop thinking about Katya, awake and alone in the middle of the night with Trixie out cold at her side. Katya, wondering when the curse is going to take Trixie from her. Trixie struggles to get to her knees so she can look at Katya properly. Her eyelashes are all sticking together and her eyes are dark and enormous.

“Curses only have power when you believe in them,” Trixie says. Her voice is firm, no wiggle room for argument. As she says it, she imagines that it’s made true. “And I don’t.”

“Trixie-”

She touches her thumb to Katya’s chin. “You know what? I wished for you, too.”

Katya’s whole face crumples and her mouth opens on a sob. Trixie reaches for her and gathers her up, rocks Katya against her chest like a small child. She’s crying soundlessly and without moisture, dry sobs wracking her whole body and making her jerk violently in Trixie’s arms.

I don’t want you to die, she says over and over.

Trixie holds her until she exhausts herself, and a little longer after that. Katya has one hand fisted in Trixie’s sweater so that the wool bunches up and exposes the bare skin just above the waistband of her pants. The fire has burned out in the grate and it’s chilly in the living room now. Trixie gets the blanket around them both. She thinks about moving them back onto the couch, or to the bed, but Katya is curled up tiny like a pillbug.

“I’m not gonna die. I’m way too stubborn.”

It doesn’t earn her the laugh she’s looking for. Instead, Katya straightens out and puts some distance between the two of them. “I don’t think it’s safe. For you to be here. For you to be near me. I don’t think it’s safe.”

“Katya, I’m sorry, but this is bullshit. I believe you. I believe in you. But I don’t believe you’re cursed.”

Trixie swipes impulsively at her cheek with the pads of her fingers, but they come away dry. She’s done crying for tonight. The suggestion that she can’t make decisions for herself, that she loves Katya because of a spell cast twenty five years ago, has rankled her. Katya is refusing to look at her now. Trixie wants to take her by the shoulders and shake her, wants to put her to bed and stroke her hair until she falls asleep.

There’s an angry purple vein in Katya’s forehead that Trixie has never seen before. Katya catches her looking and touches a self-conscious hand to it. “I think you should go.”

“I can’t go. Your side piece has me trapped here.” Katya’s eyes fly to Trixie’s at that and her mouth drops open. Something small and vindictive inside of Trixie is glad for it, hopeful that Katya is ashamed the way Trixie has been. “She’s gonna take me back to the car in the morning. So I’m sorry babe, but we have one last night.”

[eggoreviews]

MCU Villains RANKED

I finished watching all the MCU films a few days ago (I have too much time on my hands) and, as a first Marvel list, I thought I’d rank all of the main villains in terms of how cool/powerful/how generally good I think they are. Come and see where your faves have placed in this messy, ill-informed list!

This list includes all of the main villains for every film up to Infinity War (Ant-Man and the Wasp isn’t out yet so it’d be difficult to include Ghost in here) with a couple of side villains that I felt needed a spot in the list. Enjoy! (Also, possible spoilers ahead for basically any MCU film)

Disclaimer: My opinion will probably, definitely not be yours

23. Whiplash (Iron Man 2)

Oh God.

I’m pretty vocal about how much I’m really not a fan of Iron Man 2 in general, but one of its worst aspects is a totally forgettable and laughable villain. I mean, I think at some point he has a subplot about his dad or something but most of the time he’s whining about his ‘bord’ and building shitty whips with his tech rather than something useful.

22. King Laufey (Thor)

I mean, sure. I guess this guy wasn’t supposed to act as much more than suitably evil looking blue person for Thor to fight. What puts Laufey ahead of Whiplash is pure cool factor, like I wouldn’t mess with this guy. He’d freeze me or somethin’.

21. Abomination (The Incredible Hulk)

Honestly, this is probably a higher ranking for Abomination than any other list I’ve seen. My only issue with this guy is that he’s a bit eh. Despite being played by Tim Roth, a brilliant actor who appears in multiple of my favourite films, his character is just one dimensional, sweaty soldier until the end when he turns into one dimensional, sweaty green monster. Again, his minor redeeming quality comes with his raw strength (say what you like about the Hulk film, that Harlem fight at the end is well worth watching the other hour and a half), but he’s very much let down by an underdeveloped character and a completely absent motive for anything.

20. Aldrich Killian (Iron Man 3)

Okay, now we’re getting into the villains that sort have a motive at some point. Personally, I didn’t hate the whole ‘Ben Kingsley isn’t the Mandarin’ twist, so that’s not why he’s placed so low. I’ll agree that that Guy Pearce plays a decent villain here, but the film itself is so messy and full of subplots that Killian sort of gets lost in it and never really develops beyond angry rooftop guy who can set himself on fire.

19. Malekith (Thor: The Dark World)

I thought Thor 2 was pretty damn okay and not the horrendous mess people make it out to be and I’ll defend Christopher Eccleston’s Malekith just as tentatively. Malekith’s only downfall is a non-existent character beyond cool looking menacing elf dude. We know that he wants to make everything all dark again for reasons that aren’t quite clear, but that’s kind of it. Again, his slightly higher ranking is more the cool factor.

18. Darren Cross (Ant-Man)

Cool suit by the way my dude.

Corey Stoll’s Yellowjacket is a pretty by-the-numbers MCU villain. He has his moments, particularly the Mexican standoff during the presentation of his suit, but he’s a pretty okay aspect of an otherwise great film. He holds his own as a decent villain, but his backstory and motives borrow a little too heavily from Iron Man’s Obadiah Stane. And he doesn’t quite pull off the disgraced CEO as well as Jeff Bridges.

17. Ronan (Guardians of the Galaxy)

I loved Lee Pace in the Hobbit films, so the fact that Pace plays Ronan well isn’t in question. The thing about Ronan is that it seems like putting the heartless genocidal racist at the centre of a comedic superhero film about a group of misfits acts as a pretty jarring tone shift. It sort of feels like Ronan was stuffed into the wrong film here (But maybe that’s why he’s having his second round in Captain Marvel next year). Ronan isn’t exactly forgettable, but when surrounded by such rich and interesting characters, his destructive plans and endless angry monologues just sort of melt into the background.

16. The Black Order (Avengers: Infinity War)

I sort of lumped these guys all together purely because I don’t think any one of them shines out as more developed than another. They act as cool, menacing underlings to the purple fucklord that is Thanos and I’m almost kind of mad they didn’t make it to Avengers 4. As little development as there is, you can tell each one of them plays a specific role (Cull Obsidian is obviously massive brawn thing, Ebony Maw is the clever one, Proxima and Corvus enjoy stabbing things etc), which means the only thing that’s really stopping these guys from appearing higher is lack of screen time.

15. Ultron (Avengers: Age of Ultron)

Age of Ultron, like Thor 2, is often crapped on just as heavily for reasons I don’t think are hugely valid. And, like Thor 2, its villain is often the centre of the crapping. Ultron’s motives are relatively clear throughout the film and he feels central enough to be a genuine threat. I also like the plot arc that Ultron is the Avenger’s (particularly Tony and Bruce’s) fault, so that gives a whole new dynamic to his character. My only issue with Ultron is how odd his humour seems at times, as if he can’t quite decide whether he wants to be the serious villain or the funny villain. I’m all for villains showcasing both of these traits but, in Ultron’s case, he seems conflicted on which he’s trying to be.

14. Alexander Pierce (Captain America: The Winter Soldier)

Robert Redford plays the creepy Hydra dude very well and there’s something genuinely sinister about Pierce that especially comes through with his willingness to kill twenty million people. Pierce’s only downfall is that he’s a non-enhanced villain among many super-powered heroes and villains. So for all his sinister acting, Pierce just comes off as a little bit powerless. Not that this at all negates Redford’s performance or the strings Pierce pulls within SHIELD, it’s just that his lack of genuine power is something you can’t help but think about.

13. Justin Hammer (Iron Man 2)

I maintain that the only saving grace of Iron Man 2, aside from the newly cast Don Cheadle as Rhodey, is Sam Rockwell’s Justin Hammer. He brings genuine humour to an otherwise joyless film and acts as a worthy adversary to Tony Stark. Also, his dancing during the Stark Expo? Worth watching the film for. I’d be very happy to see him return, although it might be a little late due to the fact that Iron Man may be about to make his exit in Avengers 4. RIP Justin, maybe another time my dude.

12. Obadiah Stane (Iron Man)

Here he is, the villain that started it all. Jeff Bridges’ Iron Monger makes for a genuinely chilling, unsettling villain whose calmness is probably his most terrifying trait. At the centre of any good film, especially a Marvel film, is a good, compelling villain and Bridges manages this with ease. Unlike the two Iron Man sequels, this is an Iron Man villain who genuinely feels like he’s up to taking down Stark.

11. Kaecilius (Doctor Strange)

Kaecilius is yet another chilling villain played by the brilliant Mads Mikkelson who, much like Stane, feels like a match to the protagonist. But what put Kaecilius ahead of him for me is the fact that he believes what he’s doing is completely right; he thinks he’s granting everyone eternal life, rather than enslaving them to Dormammu (who won’t be included because of his lack of screen time/only redeeming quality being his massive face). This alongside some kickarse magical abilities just puts him up a bit more. Time for the top ten!

10. Helmut Zemo (Captain America: Civil War)

Daniel Bruhl goes full Bond villain for this one. Civil War in itself is a movie packed full of conflict at its core, so it takes a pretty memorable villain to make a mark on a film like this. Bruhl’s Helmut Zemo pulls all the strings behind the Avengers’ downfall and does so with a lot of sinister energy. But at the same time, we’re compelled to feel sorry for the fact that he lost his family in Sokovia during Age of Ultron. I think we’re probably going to see this guy making a return in future.

9. The Grandmaster (Thor: Ragnarok)

I love Jeff Goldblum. Everyone loves Jeff Goldblum. And while he plays more of a minor villain role in Ragnarok, I think he made much more of a mark and delivered a more compelling, genuinely funny performance than any other Thor villain. So it’d be pretty amazing to see him come back for a future film. Especially if Taika Waititi has something to do with it.

8. Ulysses Klaue (Avengers: Age of Ultron, Black Panther)

It’s pretty rare to see Andy Serkis in the flesh in a film rather than behind a lot of CGI and this character couldn’t have been played by anyone else. With Klaue being the second of two minor villains in this list alongside the Grandmaster, Klaue most makes his presence felt in Black Panther where he more than holds his own alongside Michael B. Jordan’s Killmonger (who we’ll get to later).  Andy Serkis brings a hell of a lot of humour and genuine manic energy to this role and this is near enough his best performance. It’s just a shame that Ulysses Klaue is unlikely to return, considering the fact he was a shot multiple times during Black Panther.

7. Red Skull (Captain America: The First Avenger)

Here is a villain that more than deserves his spot in the top ten. Arguably one of the most memorable villains of Marvel’s first phase, Hugo Weaving plays the angry clever Nazi scarily well. What makes him so great is the fact that he’s the complete antithesis to Captain America, which just makes the conflict between them seem more interesting. Plus, come on, it’s Hugo Weaving. He’s in every good film ever. What a guy.

6. Ego (Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2)

Kurt Russell’s Ego places this high for many reasons, mainly the fact that he doesn’t present himself as the villain until towards the end of the film and yet the film functions perfectly without a central antagonist (I love Guardians 2 a lot. This will become obvious probably). Ego even retains the parts of his character that you originally related to before he goes full bad guy and tries to cover all the planets in blue marshmallow fluff. Other than a couple of misplaced jokes (’I’m gonna go take a whiz’), Ego is a near-perfect Marvel villain.

5. Vulture (Spider-Man Homecoming)

I struggle to call this guy a villain, even though he undoubtedly is. Everything he does is out of a place of concern for his family and the only murder he commits in the whole of the film was an accident. Okay, so this doesn’t necessarily make him a good person, but what makes him any better than the Netflix Punisher? Or Deadpool? Anyway, kind of irrelevant, Michael Keaton plays his second bird super-character in the same way he plays all of his roles; amazingly. One of the main elements of Homecoming that made it such a genuinely good reboot was an interesting, relatable villain that you struggle to hate (apart from maybe when he’s pummeling Spidey into the ground at the end, that hurt my feelings).

4. Loki (Thor, The Avengers)

You can’t really call Loki a villain anymore, similarly to Bucky, M’Baku and Nebula (her especially, if she isn’t a full time guardian by the third one I’m not gonna be happy), he’s undergone a redemption arc that hasn’t negated his mischievous behaviour, but just makes sure the good parts of his character shine through a little more (that’s why I’ve only listed the two films in which I would class Loki as a villain). Tom Hiddleston plays Loki in a very sinister way, but more importantly with an overriding sense of fun. He perfectly strikes a balance between being a funny villain whilst still maintaining his sense of power.

3. Thanos (Avengers: Infinity War)

Speaking of sense of power, it crushed my heart a little to see Loki get so easily offed at the beginning of Infinity War, making Loki’s usually undeniably effective plots seem like cheap parlor tricks (to be fair, all he did was pretend he wasn’t going to stab him, but I guess if Loki’s desperate, you know everyone’s fucked at that point). Aside from all that, Thanos easily is the most terrifying character in the MCU, purely because of sheer power. Josh Brolin plays him (and Cable too) with overflowing gravitas and a threatening aura that seems to be present in everything he does. Even if he is inevitably defeated in Avengers 4, the mark he’s left on the MCU is gonna sting the survivors for some time (Sidenote: if any Guardian turns out to be permanently dead, I will officially never get over that. Yondu was bad enough).

2. Hela (Thor: Ragnarok)

Cate Blanchett as the first central female MCU villain (as well as the goddess of death) is iconic. Hela presents the same threatening, overly powerful aura that Thanos has and does every despicable act with a sense of sadistic humour. If I had the choice to bring back one villain, it would be Hela, because I very much doubt she died when Surtur squished Asgard, so her lasting mark may end up being equal to Thanos’. Or maybe she’ll turn out to be Lady Death? So many possibilites but to be honest, as long as they bring her back, I’m up for anything.

1. Killmonger (Black Panther)

Who else was it going to be? Black Panther in itself was an iconic film, not just for its cultural significance, but also for breaking the usual Marvel mold with its narrative. And at the centre of all this is Michael B. Jordan’s Killmonger, who perfectly strikes the balance between someone you love to hate and hate to love. But most of all, Killmonger’s death holds the most emotion of any villain-centric moment for me, as the ever brilliant T’Challa takes him up to see Wakanda’s sunset before he dies. But overall, what puts Killmonger ahead of all the others is the fact that everything he’s doing could easily be seen as morally correct, just not in its execution. All Killmonger wanted in the end was to arm and support his oppressed brothers and sisters, which highlights the film’s political message. Among irrelevant whip-wielding Russian scientists and endless business people in metal suits, Killmonger stands out as a villain you can side with as easily as the hero and is a villain I find it the most difficult to show any dislike for. (Totally not relevant, but Michael B. Jordan plays a good character in a cool indie film called Chronicle that came out a few years ago. If you're planning on watching a film anytime this week, I highly recommend you watch it, it will blow you away)

Phew. That took a while. Thanks for reading if you made it this far and feel free to let me know your top picks for MCU villains! If I do another Marvel list, will probably be the actual films next.

Have a good day/night my dudes

[dictionarywrites]

The Bastard Children Of Loki Of Asgard

Set a few weeks after the finish of Brought To Justice.

Loki asks Steve to accompany him to Asgard, so that he can complete his final piece of mischief there.

7k. Complete. Family fic. Fix-it, of sorts. 

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July 22nd, 2012 10:00AM

“You broke the connection, huh?” Anthony asks. He looks at Loki with the barest hint of uncertainty in his face, and Loki slowly bows his head. Does Anthony fear him, Loki wonders? Loki stands in a suit of pastel blue, his glasses on his nose, his hair tied in a tight bun over his head. The bar through his ear is plainly visible.

“I will be taking a sojourn to Asgard today,” Loki says mildly, as if in response to the question. Every single person sat about the table stops in their place, and Loki smiles, thinly. “I have unfinished business there.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Steven asks, lowly.

“Oh, it is the only idea,” Loki replies quietly. “This is a most urgent matter and must be attended to with alacrity.” Steven had left him at X-Mansion at Loki’s behest, and as he had trained with the X-Men, his evenings had been devoted to more important considerations. Casting off the name of Loki of Asgard… A most crucial matter indeed. If he is not quick, why, if news is to travel to Odin that he has cast off his bonds…

Better Loki do this now, while the metal is hot.

“Can I come?” Steven asks.

“I would be honoured if you would stand with me,” Loki assents immediately. “It may become violent. You ought bring your shield.”

“You need back-up?” Anthony asks, and immediately the others lean in – Bruce’s expression is focused behind his spectacles, and Natasha and Clint each look focused. Wanda does not lean forward, but raises her chin higher, and looks determined. In Loki’s chest, he feels a blossom of affection bloom, and he smiles.

“Nay,” he says. “Steven will be more than enough. Too many people behind me, and Odin will suspect—” Loki trails off, and he grins. “My thanks, to all of you. But it is better than Steven and I go alone.”

“What’re you gonna do?” Clint asks.

“Something cunning.” Natasha smiles.

“Cool,” she says. “Take pictures.” Loki laughs.

“I shall endeavour to.”

                            ----- ❅ - ✪ - ❅ - ⓁⓈ - ❅ - ✪ - ❅ -----

July 22nd, 2012 11:21AM

Steve pulls his helmet onto his head, strapping it under his chin. This suit is… Different. It’s darker than other iterations and the star on his chest is quietly silver against the deep blue. The only red left to his uniform is in the stripe of his shield now, and he reaches up, dragging his fingers over the star.

“This plan – I assume you have a plan?”

“I have a plan,” Loki confirms. The suit is gone. Now, he wears robes of dark blue, with silver accents— Steve turns from Loki to look at himself in the mirror, and he realises Loki has paired their colour schemes against one another. If anything, Steve looks like he’s been modelled after Loki. Loki’s hair is tied up in a bun away from the nape of his head, with three or four strands hanging down the sides of his face, and he’s put his glasses away, probably wearing the magical lenses he’d worked out from Namor’s library. And then—

The illusion fades away. Loki stands as blue as the day he was born, and more than that, Steve can see the scars on his skin. The spattered scars around his eyes are beginning to fade, probably from whatever balm he’s been rubbing on them, but the others stand in stark visibility. The pockmarks around his lips; the zig-zagging, lightning bursts of scars that ripple up the flesh of his bare arms; the heavy callouses and marks around his hands, and underneath those… The Jötunn marks are scored into Loki’s flesh, following a pattern Steve can’t quite puzzle out.

“You ever been before them without an illusion before?” Steve asks.

“Never,” Loki proclaims, and he puts out his hand. Steve takes it, feels the strange cold of Loki’s flesh against his own, and Loki inhales, tipping his head back for a second. It makes the two marks – one from a noose of chain, Steve would guess, with its visible, separate links, and the other from a thin knife cutting halfway across Loki’s neck – stand out in pale white against the blue of the skin. “But I have a plan. And no harm will come to you – no one would dare.”

“Just what are you planning to do?” Steve asks.

“I can’t tell you,” Loki murmurs. “Heimdall is listening as we speak, and were he to hear me state my plan, he would be obligated to inform the Allfather of it. Rest assured, it is nothing that will put the realm of Midgard in danger.”

The realm of Midgard, Steve thinks. And what about Asgard?

“Okay,” he says.

“Heimdall,” Loki says, more to the room at large than to Steve himself. “As you are listening—” And then, it’s like the room is tilting around them. This is completely different to Loki’s version of dimensional transitways, where the universe just neatly turns to put you somewhere else: the two of them are soaring through space, and Steve can feel the wind rushing past his hair as he lets out a whoop of delighted surprise. He can see Loki smiling, his scarred lips drawn up into the smile, and he grips tightly at Loki’s hand and then at the front of his robes, unwilling to let them go.

They come to a stop in a beautiful, high-ceilinged room, made in a perfect semi-sphere. In awe, Steve stares around at the golden walls, where heavy windows show into different areas of space. He sees galaxies, and nebulae – he sees strings of stars that shine green and blue instead of white, and he is blown away. Heimdall is tall. Damn tall. Steve turns to look at him, dressed in shining gold armour, his hands clasped loosely around a huge sword that sits in the centre of a huge, key-like mechanism.

“I see the repairs are well underway,” Loki says mildly.

“No thanks to you.”

“T’was not I who wrought the bridge to pieces with a hammer,” Loki says. Heimdall’s lip curls, and his golden eyes settle hard on Loki’s face, but Loki remains unflinching. He seems taller like this, in his Jötunn form with his robes touching the ground – Steve doesn’t miss the way Heimdall’s gaze flits to the piercing through Loki’s left ear, and the marginal shake of his head. “Do not forget, Heimdall, that I can hide all I wish from your Allsight, if I so choose. So has it been for two thousand years.” Loki’s voice is gentle, and he reaches out, touching one of his hands to Heimdall’s where it rests over the sword. This seems to surprise the man, because he stiffens, staring down at Loki’s blue fingers as if he’s never seen them before. “You have as much of my heart as Thor and the Lady Frigga, Heimdall.”

Alarm shows in the man’s face. “What brings you to Asgard?” Loki laughs.

“Foolishness,” he says, and he drags his hand away. Steve looks out to where the globe shows an archway: a bridge made of rainbow crystal crumbles into pieces, and a rough rope bridge has been made between the city and this, the Watchtower. The city is unlike anything Steve has ever seen, full of golden spires and glittering in the sun. Loki puts out his hand to Steve again, and Steve takes it.

Loki walks upon the air.

Knowing the drill, Steve follows beside him, and the two of them walk over the rope bridge as if it isn’t even there. Loki’s gait is slow and statesman-like, his robes flowing around his ankles in the soft breeze. “What’d you mean?” Steve asks lowly. It’s been… Weird, living in Brooklyn, on his own. Especially knowing he’d invited Loki to live with him in a fit of impulsive thought, and… Well. Maybe it’s sentimental of him. He keeps imagining Loki on the sofa, Loki in his bed, Loki complaining about the size of his meagre kitchen, and this is the first day he’s seen Loki in weeks, and here they are, marching on Asgard. “What you said to Heimdall?”

“It was Heimdall who found me, after my time with Svaðilfari. I told you that, that he carried me home. He walked for three days with me in his arms, clinging as desperately to him as if I was still the child who got so easily lost in the woods, even with my belly swollen, my whole form covered with blood… He didn’t want to use the Bifrost because the magic would have shocked my system further, but he could have. Heimdall…” Loki sighs, and he shifts the position of Steve’s hand in his own, linking their fingers together. “He is loyal to Asgard above all. He has betrayed countless kings in the service of Asgard as a realm, and yet he has always treated me with kindness, when I hate Asgard, and Asgard hates me. I find that very admirable.”

“You’re not gonna—” Steve stops. Loki can’t tell him, he knows, but God, it’s hard to trust Loki when the guy is… What had Bruce called him? A bag full of cats? “Do they really hate you? The Asgardians?”

“They hate magic, and women, and things they don’t understand. I flit between the three categories like a bird between trees.” Steve can see the city sprawling beneath them now, the bright golden spires of the bigger buildings, and the smaller buildings the lower classes must live in. He hears market hawkers calling out in a language just like English; he sees children running in the streets; he hears pigs and donkeys and cows—

They keep walking. Skywalking doesn’t seem to take even the barest toll on Loki, and they move easily over the main bulk of the city, beginning to descend as they reach the great, golden steps of the palace. Some of the guards stop them, and immediately Steve can hear them yelling to one another, some of them rushing inside, but no alarm bells ring.

On some level, he guesses, they were expecting this. “Keep behind me,” Loki instructs in a low voice. “Your hands clasped in front of you, never behind your back. Speak only when spoken to, and only if I give you the nod. I need to pick words very carefully, and I can’t afford to let you speak freely: I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says. The apology sounds genuine, at least, and he steps carefully onto the colourful stone in front of the palace’s entrance.

“Einherjar, I would seek an audience with his royal majesty, King Odin Allfather, Son of Bor.” This is spoken to a bearded guide with a thick beard at his chin, and the Einherjar stares at Loki for a long few moments, his grey eyes wide, before nodding. He marches with a quiet clink, clink of his armour, and Loki follows after him. His silver slippers, which come up only to his ankle and leave his pale legs showing whenever the robes ride up, make no sound on the marble floor. Steve’s boots do, though.

God, why is everything in Asgard so massive? They step into a wide throne hall with a ceiling so high Steve would need a helicopter to reach toward the top, and great pillars shine in gold, supporting the ceiling’s arches. There are great statues, showing bearded men and beautiful women…

And there, sat upon the throne, is Odin. He sits up straight, clasping a spear tightly in his right hand, and he stares imperiously down at Loki.

Loki does not bow.

“Your majesty, King Odin Allfather, Son of Bor,” Loki says. He doesn’t use his god voice, doesn’t let it thrum on the air, but the voice is princely and noble, loud and echoing in the great hall. Already, Steve can see people rushing inside – Thor, Mjölnir hanging from his hip, and a group of three men that stand around his shoulders, as well as a woman with long, dark hair. There are others, too: a tall woman that stands beside Thor – Frigga? – and impressive figures, both men and women… Gods, Steve realises. Almost all of these people are gods, and all of them are looking at Loki with horror, whispering amongst themselves, nudging one another as they go. “As your Einherjar seems too starstruck, I shall present myself: to my left is my shield-mate, Steven Rogers of Midgard. My name is Loki Skywalker, son of Böl.”

“Son of Böl?” Odin repeats, dryly. “You?”

“I,” Loki confirms. Böl, Loki has told him, means grief, sorrow…

“You’ve broken your bonds,” Odin says, and he stands. With the spear beside him, up a flight of red-carpeted steps, he seems taller than ever. “And you dare to stand here, in the throne of my ancestors, wearing that filthy skin?” Loki smiles, and Steve stands a little straighter.

“Of course,” Loki says, spreading his hands. “I come bearing great news, Son of Bor!”

“What is that?”

“Ah, but my news is not for you alone,” Loki says cheerfully. “I must call for a Council of the Gods.” The smile disappears, and Loki throws magic upon the ground: a burst of seiðr burns itself into a silver circle, spreading out so widely that Loki and Odin are left at opposite ends of it, and Steve can see Odin’s single eye widen in surprise. “I still have that right, I believe.”

Odin lifts the spear, and with a loud boom, he hits it upon the ground.

“A member of our Council has called for us to draw together,” he declares, and he looks at Loki severely. “Take your places.” Some of the Æsir move forward, taking their places at notches around the circle. The tall woman stands at Odin’s left hand, and to his right stands Thor, who looks nothing less than distraught, but holds his tongue. Steve sees a beautiful, red-haired woman that shoots Loki a look of scorn – he sees her hands have the marks of old burns on them: Freya, standing beside a man that must be her twin. A golden-haired young woman who stands hand-in-hand with a man whose beard reaches down to his waist – Iðunn, Loki’s vague education supplies, and her husband Bragi. Heimdall is suddenly beside Bragi – he must have teleported in here.

“That’s Forseti,” Loki murmurs to Steve. “He wears mistletoe in his hair because he thinks it upsets me. There, Gefjon: a goddess of fertility in her own right. There, Kvasir. Njord and Jarnaxa, and that’s Hoenir. The woman with golden hair, the Vanir… That is my wife, Sigyn. There, Tyr… And here, Ve and Vili. Just one more.” He turns back to the circle again, and feigns bafflement, rubbing at his chin. “I fear we miss one of our number!”

“Whom?” Odin demands.

“Why, Odin, Son of Bor! You have forgotten the best of us! Where is Hel?” The word thrums through the room, echoing off the golden walls, and Steve grabs hold of Loki’s shoulder to keep from falling as the ground shudders beneath them. Loki’s hand touches over Steve’s own, keeping him steady until the earthquake stops, and then—

Steve sees her at the entrance of the throne hall.

Hel is a slight woman. Her long, black hair comes in silken waves down to her hips, unbraided, and she wears black, shimmering robes… Steve is reminded of Loki’s robes as Motlordraugr, the robes he had worn to keep Steve from dying last month. Hel’s skin is even paler than Loki’s own in his Aesir form, with a blue tint to it: her lips are plumper than her father’s, and her eyes are so black Steve thinks he can see the glitter of stars in them. The other gods and goddesses are visibly unsettled, most of them leaning away from Hel as she slowly approaches the circle – cold radiates out from her like heat out of a sun, and Loki gestures for her to take her place at his right hand side, as if paralleling Thor beside Odin.

“Father,” she says. Her voice is rasping, like a winter’s wind.

“Dottir,” he replies, and his fingers brush against her shoulder – Steve doesn’t think he misses the way they pass slightly through the black-clad muscle. The centre of the circle flickers into flame, and Steve stares at its blue crackle. “Very good. So glad to see you all – glad tidings do I bring.”

“No one here trusts you, Loki,” Freya says, her voice harsh. “Get on with it.” Loki scoffs.

“Oh, as if any of us trusts each other. You think you can deceive me, my dear? You forget your place, and mine. But that is the subject on which I would speak! You notice, I suspect, that I do not wear the skin Odin painted me with when he stole me from the temple in Jötunheimr.” Odin’s lip curls. Most of the Council remains silent – each of them looks at one another, but not one of them dares to say anything, and Loki’s smile is thin where it settles on his mouth. “Come now. Most of you did know. I am not of Asgard. I am of Jötunheimr.”

“Get on with it,” Odin says.

“Temper, temper, Son of Bor. We are all equals upon this Council, are we not?” What the Hell is he doing? Steve clasps his hands a little more tightly where they’re clasped in front of his stomach: each of the gods is getting more irritable as the seconds tick by. “Nearly all of us, anyway. Well, worry not!” Loki conjures a helmet – Steve recognizes it as the helmet he had worn when he had invaded Midgard. “I stand before you today, esteemed Council, to renounce – officially – my title as Loki, Son of Odin, Husband of Sigyn, Son of Frigga, Brother of Thor.” He throws the helmet into the fire, and Steve stares as the blue flame devours it, the brassy metal sparking.

“What?” Thor demands. “What does that— What do you mean?”

“I cast off all claim to Asgard,” Loki continues, throwing folded green armour into the flame. “And all of Asgardian law. I break my bonds to all of you, and I renounce my destiny as Loki of Asgard.” Sigyn’s hands are clenched into tight fists, and Thor doesn’t think he imagines the tears welling in her almond-shaped eyes.

“Renounce your destiny?” Bragi repeats. His voice is soft and lilting. “But you cannot do that. The Norns themselves will never assent.”

“They will if the Council votes unanimously to accept my request,” Loki says. His voice is low, and his gaze is concentrated solely on Odin’s face. Odin’s jaw is clenched tightly, his grip just as tight upon the spear. “I would take what possessions I have, what scant links I have to Asgard, and I will remove myself from the annals of Asgard’s bloody future. Never will you need to bind me with chains come Ragnarok, for Ragnarok shall be irrelevant to me. Never need any of you think of me ever again.” Most of the gods look… Excited. Bragi is running his fingers through his beard; Freyr and Freya are nudging one another. Njord and Jarnaxa are looking at one another with no small amount of delight.

“If you do this,” the tall woman says, her voice quiet, “I will not be your mother.”

“My Lady Frigga, I come here to cast off the link to Asgard that has ever plagued me, ever cursed me, but not even the power of the Elders themselves could serve to tear out from me the love I hold for you, or for Thor. For any of you. Bar Freya.” Freyr laughs, and Freya looks mulishly at Loki, but Frigga’s hand is on her heart, and tears shine in her eyes. “Esteemed Council, I seek only my freedom from your law. Ever and anon have I left Asgard, and ever and anon have I been destined to return, dragged back my forces I could not resist – destiny itself. Let me break that bond. All of you have wished eagerly for the day I should leave for Niflheim, have you not? And look at the scars Asgard has given me – my mouth torn to pieces, my eyes burned…” Loki’s voice is as quiet as Frigga’s had been, entreating the council around him. “Allow me to be Loki, Son of Böl. Never shall I lay a claim upon the throne of Asgard; never shall any of you be tarred by my name. Strike my name from my record, and I shall go elsewhere.”

“And what do you demand in return for this gift you offer us, Loki?” Odin asks. Thor’s head whips around to look at his father in shock and horror, and Loki smiles.

“Are you worried, Allfather, that I shall take back that which I have gifted to those of this council? The spear Gungir, after all, was acquired by me. Bragi’s lyre, of my making. And—” Suddenly, Loki is across the room, standing in the middle of the circle, and he holds his hands out to Thor. “Even the hammer Mjölnir?” Thor looks at Loki with disgust and shame on his face, and he grips tightly at the handle of the hammer.

“You could not wield Mjölnir.” Steve can’t see Loki’s face from here, but he sees the slight tilt of his head as he stares at his brother.

“Really?” Loki asks lowly. “Then why are you afeared to hand it to me?” Before Thor can answer, Loki is back on the other side of the circle, and he chuckles, as if at his own joke. “Nay, I ask only for the freedom of this Council, and of Asgard. I would ask the boon that I be permitted my freedom to visit, but with the understanding I have as little right to the things of Asgard as any stranger.”

“Has anyone objection?” Odin asks, quietly.

“There must be some trick,” Heimdall says, quietly. “Some secreted thing Loki hides from us."

“Always,” Loki agrees. “There are thousands of things I have not told this Council. But who among us keeps not secrets from his brothers and sisters?” The silence is positively eerie. Not one of the gods will look at one another: everybody’s eyes focus on the flickering blue flames in the middle of the circle instead. “I’m afraid I cannot allow you time to deliberate. This is a one-time offer. Your duty to Asgard as a whole must come before any middling connections you feel toward me. How much better off will Asgard be, without the Mischief-Maker wreaking his havoc?”

“All in favour,” Hel rasps out, even as she raises her right hand into the air. “The right hand high.” She has been utterly silent throughout all these proceedings, and Steve has to wonder… Does she know what her father is doing? Does she know what his plan is? Almost all of the hands rise up. Heimdall looks suspiciously at Loki, but then he raises his right hand.

“Brother,” Thor begins.

“Thor,” Loki whispers. “If you love me, raise your hand.” Loki’s hand is raised as high as his daughter’s, held straight, the palm flat. Odin doesn’t seem to be voting, and there are two hold-outs – Frigga and Sigyn. Frigga stands with her hands crossed tightly over her chest, and Loki turns to her first. “My lady,” Loki says softly. “Surely you would not put the kingdom of Asgard under the Jötunn you took for a son?”

“You are my son,” Frigga declares. “You shall remain so.”

“Raise your hand, woman,” Loki snaps. “Or I shall never speak to you again.” There are gasps of shock and horror, and Frigga herself draws herself up, her lips pressing into a thin line. She stares at Loki, her blue eyes full of anger, but Loki’s expression is quietly neutral. “And Sigyn… We are husband and wife in name only. You might find another husband, better than I. Easily.” Sigyn’s dark eyes flit from Loki to Steve, and for a long few moments she says nothing.

“Is this what you desire, Loki?” Sigyn asks, softly. There is an accent to her voice, one that shows her as one of the Vanir – not of Asgard, just like Loki himself. Loki nods. “Is it worth making our children bastards, even as they are now dead?” After a long pause, Loki nods his head once more. Truly?”

“Truly,” Loki promises, softly. Sigyn slowly raises her hand. After a long moment, Frigga does the same.

“The motion passes unanimously,” Odin declares. “You are no longer Loki of Asgard, the land that raised you. You have no claim to this throne, nor to any of us as your brothers, your sisters, your family. Your bloodline dissolves; your past links are severed. You are a stranger to Asgard, now.” Odin’s spear pounds once more against the ground. The Council of the Gods is dismissed.”

“Actually,” Loki says, in a voice so soft and serpentine that Steve has to strain to hear it. He sees the fear pass over the faces of the gods, sees every one of them – even Frigga and Thor – look terrified. “There’s one more thing.” Odin’s grip tightens around the spear, his ancient knuckles turning white. “It’s a little thing, really. I promise.” Loki laughs. The scarred, blue fades away, replaced by marble white once more. “It’s… Oh, Son of Bor, it is so tiny you’ll scarcely notice it.” Loki is all but bouncing on his heels, he’s so excited, and his delight is almost infectious: it’s obvious he’s satisfied to scare all the others so much. “Bragi, my dear friend. Pray, will you tell us of the prophesied Ragnarok?”

Bragi stares at Loki, and then looks askance to the council at large. No one objects, and so Bragi says, “T’was prophesied the children of Loki would lead to Ragnarok, and thus were they taken cast to the three corners of the Yggdrasil. One bound in chains in the base of the palace; another to rule the realm of Niflheim, and the other in the great seas. And when Ragnarok—”

“Mmm, no, don’t care about that bit,” Loki says, waving his hand. “Pray, clear something up for me. What children?”

“What?”

“You say the children of Loki. Why, I have no children. I have no link to Asgard whatsoever. The children of Sigyn are retroactively fatherless, in the eyes of Asgardian law. So too are the children of the Jötunn Angrboða.” Hel gasps, her right hand covering her mouth, and Steve can see the light of understanding in her dark eyes, the joy. “The Council of the Gods once declared that the children of Loki must be ripped from his breast and taken captive, so that they could not bring about Ragnarok. Why, what a silly decision that was, when Loki has no children! Obviously, the caging of Fenrisúlfr, Jormungandr and Hel was a case of mistaken identity, and the three of them must be released immediately.”

“No.” Loki’s head whips toward Odin, and immediately he steps forward, onto the air itself. The air is abruptly crackling with power, with energy, and Steve stares as Odin take a step back from the freezing power that radiates from his son – no, not his son. From Loki.

“No?” Loki repeats, his voice thrumming with power. “Give me your reasoning, Son of Bor! Why?”

“Because they are destined to bring about Ragnarok. I shall not release them for—”

“Nay,” Loki growls. “The children of Loki are destined to bring about Ragnarok. Those bastard children are destined for naught but freedom, and you shall give it back to them.”

“You cannot deny this, Son of Bor,” Hel says with her rasping voice, laughing as she does so. Frost forms on the floor around her ghostly feet. “The stranger is right. No longer can that old prophesy bind us, for we are not the children of Loki.”

“I can prove destiny for you, if you like,” Loki whispers. “I’ll bring about Ragnarok myself.”

“Loki!” Thor growls, and Loki laughs.

“Release my children, or perish.” Steve can see it pains Odin to do so. He can see the tremble of that ancient lip, the twitch of his single remaining eye.

“I should have left you to die on that rock,” Odin says.

“Perhaps so,” Loki agrees. “Too late now, Allfather. Too late now.”

                            ----- ❅ - ✪ - ❅ - ⓁⓈ - ❅ - ✪ - ❅ -----

Summer Noon

Loki is sobbing openly.

Steve stands at the edge of the bridge, watching as he stands in the centre of his children. Hel is completely solid now, pale but given a physical form, and he clutches her so tightly to his side it looks like she’s about to break; Loki’s forehead is pressed tightly to that of Fenrisúlfr’s, a great black wolf that howls low in his throat as he presses close to his father; and around them curls a gigantic snake with rippling, green coils, its tail bloody and heavy with wounds.

Tears flow freely down Loki’s cheeks, and Steve can hear his fevered apologies, hear all three of them – Jormungandr, Fenrisúlfr and Hel – talking at once as they hold tight to him, so tightly they’ll never let go.

Seiðr is flowing from Loki’s hands, and he heals the rusted, ugly wounds of shackles around Fenrisúlfr’s four ankles, his neck; he heals the ugly, tattered end of Jormungandr’s tail, healing where the snake’s own teeth had dug into it.

“Steven,” Loki says raggedly. Steve hesitates, but Loki is looking directly at him, gesturing for him to come closer. Steve turns to the side, looking at the gods and Æsir alike gathered at the city’s edge, staring down at Loki not of Asgard as he is finally reunited with the children he hasn’t seen in over a thousand years. Odin looks disgusted. Thor, though, looks… Sad. He, Sigyn and Frigga stand together, Frigga’s hands entwined with Thor’s and Sigyn’s alike.

Steve jumps down from the bridge and begins to move across the beach. He walks slowly, almost scared that one of them will lunge toward him, but they each hold their place. Jormungandr must be hundreds of feet long, his body easily twice Loki’s height in width, and Fenrisúlfr is no puppy either – he’s forty feet at the shoulder, and his skull is almost as big as Loki is in size.

“This is Steven Rogers,” Loki whispers. “Come, come, Steven, you can—” Steve walks so close he can feel the warmth that radiates from Jormungandr, and – very carefully – he lays his hand on Jormungandr’s side. Jormungandr’s scales are nearly five times to size of Steve’s hand, and Steve swallows dryly as Jormungandr leans in. His eyes are amber, and they’re huge in diameter, but the snake is… Smiling.

“Sssteven,” Jormungandr whispers. His tongue flicks out, tasting the air. “You taste of Midgard.”

“Yes,” Steve says. “I’m— I’m from New York.”

“Ah,” Jormungandr sighs, and he leans in closer: his huge nose gently butts against the top of Steve’s skull, the touch unspeakably gentle despite the greatness of his size. Loki and Hel climb out from between Jormungandr’s coils, and Hel’s hand is cool in Steve’s own as she moves to shake it.

“My name is Hel,” she says softly. “For so long I have ruled Niflheim, not quite dead, not quite living… To feel the sun on my face—” She looks up at the sky, which is brightly blue, with not a cloud in sight. “It is truly glorious. Father tells me if it were not for you, he would never have come to this scheme.” Her hands touch his cheeks, and she leans in, pressing their foreheads together for a second, and then she pulls away. She clambers onto Jormungandr’s back, laughing as he tosses her into the sand, and as they wrestle, Fenrisúlfr pads forward.

“Steven,” he declares. His wolfish jaws snap as he looks Steve in the eye: his eyes are shining silver, molten in the light. “You have the spirit of a wolf.”

“Nay,” Loki murmurs, patting his son’s flank. “A lion.” Fenrisúlfr laughs, and his silver eyes burn with flame as he does so, he bows his head, and Steve takes the cue Jormungandr and Hel had given him – awkwardly, he presses his own forehead head to the hard piece of skull between Fenrisúlfr’s eyes, feeling the great wolf’s breath hot against his feet, feeling the thick coarseness of his fur.

“You make him smile,” Fenrisúlfr whispers. “You make his heart sing.”

“I try,” Steve whispers back. Fenrisúlfr leans away, turning to run in the water with Jormungandr and Hel – despite the difference in their sizes, they move against one another naturally, and it’s obvious that despite her small size, Hel has no problem picking up either of her brothers.

Loki sniffles, quietly, and Steve holds out a handkerchief from his pocket. Loki laughs and takes it, wiping at his eyes. “Do you want to see something?” Loki asks.

“Sure,” Steve says. The illusion passes from Loki’s face. Although his mouth remains marked over with scars and pock marks, his eyes are completely clear. The acid wash that was once heavy on his eyes, gluing his eyelashes together in places, lightening the colour of his eyes… It’s all gone. “You’re kidding.”

“My vision is quite perfect,” Loki murmurs. “That destiny is shattered now. Already it had been loosening its hold, but now—” Loki slides forward, his left hand drawing around Steve’s hip, and his right hand links with Steve’s: they stand posed as if they’re about to start dancing, and the tired smile on Loki’s face shows nothing but joy. “They’re free. All three of them, free…”

“Don’t cry anymore,” Steve says in a soft voice, and Loki smiles, leaning in. Loki’s forehead is a welcome touch against Steve’s own, and he wonders what this means, exactly, why it’s so significant that all three of Loki’s children felt the need to do it with him, a complete stranger…

“I suppose I’ll try not to,” Loki replies. “Orders are orders.”

“That was— What you did. That was really smart.”

“Would that I’d thought of it centuries ago,” Loki says. He laughs, breathlessly. “I can’t believe it.”

“Loki.” Loki draws away from Steve, but not before his left hand shifts from Steve’s face and to the side of his neck instead, clutching at him protectively. Thor stands, breathing slightly heavily, on the beach. He levels Steve with a hard stare, but Loki shifts their position marginally, so that Steve is behind Loki instead of beside him. “I didn’t know. I would have— If I’d known, I would have supported it from the beginning.”

“I know,” Loki says. “You ought introduce yourself. They’ve never had the chance to know their uncle.”

“Am I their uncle, then?” Thor asks, in a whisper.

“As much as you are my brother,” Loki says. Steve steps back just in time: Thor’s arms wrap hard around Loki’s body, and Loki hugs him back tightly, clutching at the back of his hair. There’s a myriad of emotions on Loki’s face, and Steve can see the turmoil inside him. “Frigga, Heimdall, Sigyn! What on Earth are you doing up there? Come meet my children! Volstagg, Fandral, Hogu— All of you. Come now. That includes you, Sif, I can see your hesitation.”

Already a green-clad figure with blond hair is moving forward, and Loki grabs him in a tight hug, kissing both of his cheeks. They linger for just a second longer than Steve really likes, and then Loki goes to a giant of a man with red hair and a confused expression on his face, shaking his hand. Then, a Vanir man, then the woman Thor had seen earlier, with tight braids in her hair.

He hugs Frigga, and he kisses Sigyn on the mouth, but it’s chaste, and tender. Hel, Jormungandr and Fenrisúlfr are shaking the water from their forms as they come to the shore once more, and Steve watches as Hel greets Heimdall bodily, clutching at his hands and turning to introduce him to her brothers.

All three of them are stiff and slightly awkward, overly formal, but Steve can see they’re following Loki’s example – not one of them shows anger, or resentment. Steve remembers Loki’s memory, the one Loki had showed him in the lake at X-Mansion – he thinks of the Ancient-Loki’s children, who chose peace instead of revenge and died for it. Nobody’s dying here.

The sun is high in the sky as Bragi comes down to the beach with a lyre in his hand – the lyre Loki had made him? – and begins to play.

                            ----- ❅ - ✪ - ❅ - ⓁⓈ - ❅ - ✪ - ❅ -----

“You do not join the festivities,” Loki says quietly. Music drifts through the open archways, from down below in the city. The throne room is dark, with only two lanterns lit despite the rapid blanket of the night closing in, and Loki can barely see the King of Asgard sat upon his throne.

“I don’t need to see the trick to know it is coming,” Odin says, lowly. “They will destroy Asgard.”

“Nay,” Loki replies. His slippers make no noise as he comes forward, easily ascending the steps toward the throne. “Already, I have decided upon lodgings for Jormungandr and Fenrisúlfr each, on a planet far from here. Hel is uncertain, but she thinks she will take a place upon Midgard.”

“Then you will destroy Asgard.” Loki looks at his father’s face, draped in darkness, and he conjures a seat of wood for him to sit upon, his back facing the conference room, his face toward Odin himself.

“No,” Loki says. “I had a vision.”

“A vision?” Odin repeats. “You have never been a diviner before now.”

“I had to change to break the bonds I was in,” Loki says simply. “I opened myself to the heat of the multiverse, and forcibly broadened my horizons.” Odin’s eye rests heavily on Loki’s face, his lips twisted into a deep scowl. “In my vision, I met anther Loki, far removed from I. He was ancient with the weight of a billion realities… He too shucked off destiny, and thus circumvented Ragnarok.”

“There are things you know not, boy,” Odin says lowly, his voice scarce more than a growl. Loki laughs.

“Boy. Evidently, there are things you know not yourself, old man.” Loki looks out into the darkness of the hall, where some of the remaining light is shining in through the golden arches. “I never desired the throne, you know. I merely wished for your assurance that I would be as good a king as any.”

Odin is silent.

“I don’t wish to kill you,” Loki murmurs. “Nor do I want revenge upon you for the ways you have wronged me, for you have done me kindnesses, too. You said yourself t’was my birthright to die, and yet you took me in. You allowed me to ascend to the Council of the Gods; you hid the truth of Sleipnir’s birth from all, as you did the embarrassment of my own lineage. In your own, twisted way, I think you have loved me. Even in your permitting the murder of Angrboða, the secret of my birth, your sharp words… Even in those acts, I think you held a love for me, as wrong as they were.”

Odin is silent.

“But you are old, and foolish. Your bitterness and your prejudice blinds you to the truth of the universe far more than your lost eye. You are greedy, and selfish, and vengeful. You hoard so many secrets that you do not realise you can lighten the load of them upon your shoulders…” All of these things describe Loki, in one way or another. The Loki he was – the Loki he still is. The Loki he must break out of. Loki sighs, and he stands. He leans forward, and he feels Odin tilt his neck back just slightly, expecting a blade at his throat.

Loki catches the back of his grey head, and he presses their brows together. He hears Odin’s gasp, although Loki’s own eyes are tightly shut. This is an old, ancient symbol upon Asgard – peace, and family, and trust, all at once.  Odin’s tired brow is wrinkled and warm against Loki’s own, and he can smell the scent of the old man’s armours, the ointment in his hair, the oil that shines his spear.

“My son,” Odin whispers, his voice cracking with age and emotion alike.

“Father,” Loki whispers back. “All is well.” He could stab him. H could pierce Odin with his own spear, right here, murder him forevermore— Loki finds he does not wish to. How foreign is that sensation. Forgiveness. Loki draws away, and he begins to walk down the stairs.

“I do, you know.”

“Do what?” Loki says, freezing on the stair. His heart skips a beat in his chest.

Odin is silent.

                            ----- ❅ - ✪ - ❅ - ⓁⓈ - ❅ - ✪ - ❅ -----

“What happens now?” Fandral asks, quietly. He and Loki stand side by side, their elbows rested against the wall that separates the city of Asgard from the path down to the beach below. On the distant horizon, the sun is but a golden sliver as it disappears beneath the water.

“I will take my children far from here,” Loki says simply. “Jormungandr to a great planet where he can rule all, amidst a wide ocean… Fenrisúlfr to that planet too. I have one in mind, and the planet itself is populated only by beasts and wild things. The two of them would be the greatest intelligences on the planet.”

“And Hel?”

“She isn’t certain. I think she will travel somewhat, as I did in my youth.” Loki feels the weight of the day’s work upon his shoulders: the last of his mischiefs upon Asgard, and the greatest. The finality of it all cuts him to the bone. “I will back to Midgard.”

“With Steven,” Fandral murmurs, a little tease creeping into his voice, and Loki smiles.

“With Steven,” Loki agrees. Fandral sighs, looking out over the water. Fenrisúlfr is laying upon the beach, talking at length with the man in question: Steven has his shield laid over his lap, and is giving a blow-by-blow account of some tale or other. Volstagg and Hogun are listening with him, and when Fenrisúlfr laughs, his rasping chuckles mingle with Volstagg’s loud ones. “He’s a good man.”

“It seems you are, these days,” Fandral replies. Loki shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “No, I’m not. But I think…” He trails off, and he turns to meet Fandral’s gaze. “Do you think I could be?”

“Always,” Fandral says, and his hand touches Loki’s shoulder. “You can be anything, Loki. Anything you want. I’ve long-since known that.” Loki smiles. The expression is soft, and it feels as natural as anything where it settles on his face.

“Thank you, Fandral. Truly. Your faith… It means a lot to me.” Fandral’s hand draws away. “We ought return. Fenrisúlfr has just challenged Volstagg to spar with him.” Fandral claps his hands together, letting out a low sound of delight.

“Sounds like it’s time for a bet!”

                            ----- ❅ - ✪ - ❅ - ⓁⓈ - ❅ - ✪ - ❅ -----

July 27th, 2012 10:12PM

Loki sags against the wall, and Steve laughs at him as he shuts the apartment door behind them. Once they had left Asgard, it had taken a few days to settle Jormungandr and Fenrisúlfr on the planet Loki had mentioned, and then they’d spent time with Hel, showing her Loki’s library in the Fon system. Turns out Loki had had a few dozen house deeds on a few planets, and it had been—

Incredible.

Stepping on completely foreign soils, seeing all kinds of aliens, as Loki had shown Hel new choices for places to live, opened the world up to her… It had been unlike any experience Steve had ever had.

And understandably, now, Loki is absolutely exhausted.

“Come on, big guy,” Steve murmurs, and he catches Loki by the back of the knees, lifting him away from the wall. Loki is wearing a light skirt and blouse, and he is limp in Steve’s arms as Steve carries him into the bedroom.

“This is all changing before I make my home here,” Loki mumbles, his eyes closed.

“You’re not even looking at it,” Steve points out, unable not to laugh.

“I don’t need to.” But Loki’s lips are quirked into a little smile, and Steve drops him onto the bed, sliding onto the bed beside him. “My face hurts from smiling so much, this past week… I never believed I could feel such joy.” Loki pulls Steve close to him, and Steve presses his face against the hard, cool panel of Loki’s chest.  “I’m rather torn.”

“Between?”

“Ravishing you, or sleeping for fifteen hours in a row.”

“I think we can go with both,” Steve murmurs. “You know, we could do the ravishing after the sleep… Or I could wake you up seven and a half hours in, get some ravishing in there, and then go back to sleep.” Loki laughs. “Go to sleep.”

“Alright,” Loki assents. His fingers press under Steve’s light tunic – something Hel had picked out for him, that is distinctly not Earth-like, but is comfortable and warm – and slide over his spine. “Join me? Keep me warm.”

“Okay,” Steve murmurs.

                             ----- ❅ - ✪ - ❅ - ⓁⓈ - ❅ - ✪ - ❅ -----

Loki uploads no less than 347 photographs of his children to Facebook, as well as some 100 others of different planets. Natasha Romanov Likes every single one.

[thatonewingedsorcerer]

We Got Video Now

"Okay, so me, the rune witch, and our very tired kelpie, we w-"

"I'm tired cause I own the only braincell of this trio"

"It's cause your the mom friend"

"You're right and I despise that"

"Anyways, we were on a supply run when , One: I remembered we never explain anything about who and where we are, and Two: we found an old camcorder!"

"Anyways, hey hold this, we going to try to get video here"

"Wha- fine"

[There's rustling as someone seems to be handing off a mic]

"Guys!, I think I got it working"

{Video cuts in, it seems to be pointing down as the only things visable is a pair of shoes, it's very blurry}

"The quaility is shit though, eh it's good enough"

{The camera straightens out and the focus is played with for a second, There's two women visible. One has a pair of sunglasses perched on her head, along with two very noticeable eye bags. Her lower half of her face is covered with some cloth, there’s a hood bunched up around her neck. Her red hair looks windswept while still holding a very strong aura of bed head. There’s a bow and arrow on her back along with a quiver, there’s also a longsword on her hip. She’s wearing jeans with a tailcoat buttoned over a dark green shirt, with knee high boots. The second one is wearing a tank top and shorts, there’s a cloak tied around her waist, it reaches her ankles. There’s several runes and sigils visible on her skin, the quality’s too poor to be able to make them out. She has a pair of steampunk goggles on her head and a half-face gas mask. She has a backpack by her feet as she's playing with a butterfly knife}

“Here’s the mic”

{The one with red hair tosses a audio recorder at whoever’s holding the camera}

“Thanks anyway, right now we’re heading to our local string of power lines, 3 miles out. We don’t know how they get power, we don’t know why we can get wifi there, we don’t question it”

“We stopped asking questions a long time ago”

“The rune witch has the dead batteries we need to charge in the bag along with the laptop, so we can edit and post this thing”

{A hand comes from behind the camera and points at the bag at the feet of the one with runes}

“Laptop? I thought you had it”

“Come on!, give me a minute. How far are we again?”

“Bout one and a half miles”

[groan] “Fine”

{they hand off the camera to the red hair one, as the view flips around, there’s a clear view of whoever was recording. They’re wearing too many clothes to be able to place a gender, lots of layers, but two wings as tall as them are sticking out their back. They have sunglasses and a pair of aviator goggles on their head under a hood, along their own gas mask. They take off their sunglasses and pull on their goggles. Putting down their own bag and an instrument case, they take a few steps back and fly off}

“You have it don’t you”

{She only response with a smile}

“Of course you do. Any who while we wait for them to get back, I’ll explain something, like where we are, This is a seam for forgotten things”

{She pans the camera around, there’s piles of different things along with half destroyed buildings. Where the two are standing though there seems to be an absence of things, like a path has been cleared. other than that everything seems to be a stark white}

“A seam is basically a natural generated pocket dimension, while most people make their own pocket dimensions to store things, this one was generated by the multiverse. There’s a bunch of these, some of them are for lost souls, those seams are better known as purgatory, others house broken things, some discarded things, lost things, or forgotten things like this one. We don’t entirely understand how things appear in here, but even if everyone dies it still counts as forgotten for some reason, that’s why we have so many broken buildings here”

{She pans to the broken walls around the two of them, as she hits one of them with the side of her fist}

“But our basic understanding is, you know when you forget about something and it seems to disappear, like you lose some coins in an old jacket pocket and then next year the pocket’s empty, well those coins end up here. Anything forgotten and basically disappear, appears here. This does include storms and fires.”

“One time I got caught in a hurricane, I hated it”

“Yeah, natural disaster just popping up next to us, is not fun. Part of the reason we wear lots of facial covering when we go out the Library, is the dust storms and the stupid amount of poison gas that somehow gets in here”

{She turns the camera to her face and pulls down the cloth covering her face down a little to reveal a small device over her mouth and nose, there’s a couple runes on it. Also the sunglasses also seem to have runes of there own. She turns the camera back around}

“People can also create portals into seams, which is how we got here. We were teenagers, and we found an old cabin in the wood with a bunch of old notes on magic. We took a journal labeled dimensional travel, I guess we thought it would be fun. It took us about three days to gather the things for the spell circle, It really shouldn’t of worked. Well, then we got trapped here, because the portal to our dimension closed behind us. So we use the stuff in here to try to find a way back because-”

{She walks around the wall and grabs a book off a huge pile of random objects, and pulls her leg up to write a quick rune on the cover. A series of symbols appear near the rune}

“Most thing in here have symbols like this when we use a dimensional locate rune our warlock made. We can use these symbols in a dimension travel spell circle to head to the dimension it came from. We still haven’t found our original dimension, but we were able to get to a dimension where the spell circle killed us instead, so close enough I guess”

“How long has it been since wings left I would of thought they would of been ba-”

{A black streak dives out of the sky, tackling the warlock, they tumble a few feet before stopping, they’re in a small pile as the winged one is yelling at her as the scuffle}

“You little bitch, you made me fly 3 miles for NOTHING, I’m going to combo you into fucki-”

“Hey you two stop, just kiss and make up”

“Sorry mom”

“Sorry, mum”

“Ew, no. I’m not even that much older than you”

“You’re literally centuries older then the both of us”

“Ah curse my mythological heritage”

“Give me the camera back”

“Say please”

{She tosses the camera and recorder back to the winged being}

“Alright so our kelpie must have bored you so it’s time to sign off, till next time, that one winged sorcerer”

“Wait wait wait did you say ‘kiss and make up’, What the fuck An-”

[auskultu]

With Jimi, The Music Is 3-D!

Nick Jones, Melody Maker, 9 December 1967

THE ROLLING Stones have successfully produced a three dimensional album cover but Jimi Hendrix will zap you giddy with his three dimensional music. Zap, zap, zap. Jimi Hendrix, Noel Redding, Mitch Mitchell. Zap, zap, zap. Zap me three times, baby.

And zap Father Christmas too with this beautiful new album from the Jimi Hendrix Experience called Axis: Bold As Love, released this month on the Track label. It’s too much. Amaze your ears, boggle your mind, flip your lid, do what you want but please get into Hendrix like you never have before—it’s just too much.

“It’s made with stereo in mind,” said Jimi this week talking about everything revolving around his axis, “and I hope everybody can dig it in stereo because that’s what it’s all about. The album was made over a period of sixteen days and we all helped in producing it with Chas Chandler, and I mixed it with him as well—so it really is us.”

Most of the tracks feature a basic rhythm track of Jimi on guitar, Noel on bass, and Mitch on drums. Then over this Jimi lays down an intertwining, often very freaky electronic guitar track—occasionally some extra eight-string bass and then high little tints of bells and taps and things.

“We’ve tried to get most of the freaky tracks right into another dimension,” explained Jimi, “so you get that sky effect like they’re coming down out of the heavens, you know.”

And, wow, it’s all succeeded, ‘EXP’ kicks the album off, panning right across the wide stereo picture like a soaring, diving UFO—which is what the track’s about. It’s just guitar and Mitch and Noel playing basses. This striking, frightening piece of cosmic composing is followed by ‘Up From The Skies’, a soft, gliding jazzy piece of velvet.

“Thanks to Mitch for the jazz,” says Jimi. “It’s the story of a guy who’s been on earth before but on a different turning of the axis—and now he’s come back to find this scene happening.”

On the romping, beautiful ‘Spanish Castle Magic’ is the old roaring Hendrix making it like the world was going to end tomorrow. Mitch flies right across the beat, flicking in some incredible little scenes, Jimi hammers out piano off-beats and there’s a fine rock ’n’ roll combination set up, as the Hendrix trail burns like dynamite.

Mitch and Noel can be heard singing on ‘Wait Until Tomorrow’ and Jimi says you can probably get the story of that one.

‘Ain’t No Telling’ is a pretty straightforward typically Hendrix groover, followed by ‘Little Wing’, one of the most beautiful tracks on the album. “I dig writing slow songs because I find it’s easier to get more blues and feeling into them.” Side one ends with ‘If Six Was Nine’. “This means that it really doesn’t matter if anything is upside down as long as it doesn’t bother you, and you can cope with it. This is one of the numbers we made about nine months ago. Gary Leeds and Graham Nash did some foot stomping and that’s me on the flute.”

Side two of the axis is possibly the more explosive side—if only because of ‘Bold As Love’, the mind-blowing title track. Before that, however, goes numbers like ‘You Got Me Floating’ with reverse guitars spinning backwards, music boxes tinkling, and generally a lot of very truthful and honest soul sounds.

‘She’s So Fine’ sees the emergence of Noel as a songwriter on a great English rock sound supercharged as ever by the amazing Hendrix. ‘One Rainy Wish’ sees Jimi playing through something made by his friend Roger giving his guitar a muffled, sometimes flute-like sound as the notes clash with the octave. ‘Little Miss Lover’ is a strong, building screecher leading beautifully into ‘Bold As Love’ which is the culmination of all Jimi’s blues, all his soul, all his urging, all his crying, all his shouting, all his grooving, all his everything.

And is the final stirring, majestic entrance and ending of Axis: Bold As Love worth reflecting on as Mitch’s drums leap across the room, Noel calmly thunders out deep cannon shots of sound and Jimi just soars up through the clouds, astride his magical guitar.

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 088: Hear & Now

Towards the beginning of 2017, Riccardo Luchini and Marco Radicioni released an amazing 12” on Claremont 56 under the name Hear & Now. It contained two tracks, “Hirundo” and “Sabbia magica,” that immediately established the duo of deep house veterans as masters of that classic Ibiza chillout sound, further proven by the tracks’ numerous appearances in high profile sets, mixes, and compilations, including a spot on Jim Breese’s excellent Balearic 3 collection. What’s more, the music hinted at a wide-eyed and far reaching vision, one whose scope was perhaps ill-served by the limited space of a 12”. But now, working again with Claremont 56, Hear & Now have fully actualized the potential of those two tracks with Aurora Baleare. This is an expansive and jaw-dropping 2xLP that explores the very heights of balearic bliss across eight wondrous pieces…each and every one smothered in oceanic synths and colored all over by Marco’s celestial guitar magic.

Hear & Now - Aurora Baleare (Claremont 56, 2018) For “Aurora Baleare,” seabirds sing over calming pads…evoking shimmering blue water stretching to the horizon. Romantic acoustic guitar fades in, backed by hand drums and gentle space riffs, while subaqueous bass pulses add a sense of movement. And as cosmic arps and glassy leads rain down, it feels as if the duo set out to translate the kaleidoscopic blues and aquas of the album art into sound and in doing so, distilled the essence and soul of the balearic spirit into one perfect song. We then join the backwards percussion fx and seaside pads of “Stella dei venti” as they surround dreamhouse pianos and deep house rhythmics. There are twanging bass loops that recall Ilija Rudman and the whole thing is wonderfully propulsive and drifty, carried by the gorgeous keys and the eventual presence of emotional blues leads. Occasionally the pianos alight on flights of new age bliss and there is a nice subdued climax of laid back guitar solos over hypnotic echo riffs and ghostly strings hovering like fog.

For “Salsedine,” hand drums and glowing synths accompany moody guitar arpeggios, while pounding three dimensional synthbass grows in strength. Things evolve into methodical space disco, all pulsing strings and sliding electric guitars dripping with sensual warmth. The kick pulls away here and there, leaving us floating in aquatic beatless wonder, while anticipation builds for the rhythmic drop to come. Ocean field recordings return for “Trasimena”, backgrounding some lush deep house. Mesmeric knocking sounds sit under cavernous reverb and pads cycle ear to ear in long hallucinatory streaks, while vibing bass synths add a touch of groove to the rigid machine rhythms. Flashy tom fills transition into and out of ambient passages while also introducing subdued spaceguitar fantasias, often multi-tracked, weaving soft webs and floating in the clouds.

“Hirundo” appears as the C-side opener, with that now familiar bongo beat and those echoing riffs bubbling to the surface. Pads flow and glow alongside spaceage synths, gaseous strings, and euphoric backwards cymbal swells, as everything swirls about Marco’s breathtaking guitar leads. There is a midsection of underwater ambiance, the beat falling away, leaving just effervescent layers of oceanic electronics and gooey guitar. And when the hand percussion returns, slow phaser arps build in the background, eventually dominating the mix. And then comes the especially amazing “La marsa.” I’m a Manuel Göttsching fanatic and here we see heady Ashra leads intertwining and soaring through the stereo field, while modulated guitars drip like honey over strange rattling claps and wild west organs submerged in a tropical haze. An irresistible Italo bassline moves to the front of the mix, the vibe so epic and joyous, with charismatic dual guitar harmonizations ringing out over the throbbing disco rhythms and anthemic bending synth leads flying through the sky.

“Sabbia magica” is here as well, beginning as a romantic robot song filled with swooning deep space electronics. A hyperactive bassline moves in alongside gliding four-four kick and tambourine, with claps firing off explosively and smooth synthy funk riffs jamming things out. Erotic bends color the mix alongside midnight blues guitar under sultry phaser, adding smokey atmospherics to the driving percolations. In contrast to the calming warmth of the previous tracks, “Airone” concludes this balearic adventure with abstract and off-kilter loops of bass drum and hand percussion. But eventually the seaside dreams return, as blissed out pads wash to shore under the cold moonlight and chiming synths ascend over single note guitar hypnotics. Further cosmic leads and echoriffs enter and the beat evolves into something majestic, while physical bass synths float in the depths and vocal pads like some mystical mermaid choir call out through the deep blue abyss.

(images from my personal copy)

[cyberkevvideo]

Throne of Night Theory Builds Part 7: The Masters of the Deep of Book 5

Didn’t know if I’d be continuing this series of theory builds, but finally had a sudden spark of inspiration regarding how you’d make the final picture of Book 5 a viable encounter for a party of 15th level characters.

While i admit I was expecting something more than aberrations being the final boss, it does kind of make some sense that they’d be pulling some strings. Especially aboleth. They can never have too many slaves. That said, they’re only a CR 7. That’s not exactly going to be a threat to a level 15 PC, let alone four of them (or more, depending on the storyline you’re running). And given the designs we’re seeing, there’s no way that any of the creatures we see are a  veiled master. No, it couldn’t possibly that easy. Doesn’t help that they’re not OGL either, so it does make sense that it’s not them. But, I did discover a way to make them at least a moderate threat.

For space reasons, cropping the encounter build.

Again, all images shared here were done by the forever fantastic and amazingly talented Michael D. Clarke, aka SpiralMagus.

EDIT: Cleaned up the build and made it look prettier.

Book 5 discusses how the party learns that there’s something far worse than just a war with a drow army, or dealing with corrupted dwarves. People and caravans are going missing, and strange aberrant creatures are being spotted by nearby watering holes. It’s up to the party to investigate what’s going on, and travel the sunless sea.

By this time in Book 5 of Way of the Wicked, the party had to face off against a CR 20 encounter. It was just one NPC, so it wasn’t much of a threat. I’ve done my own revisions for that encounter and made note of it in my Way of the Wicked category, but I’m banking on the idea that Gary likely repeated his own encounter builds. At least for the difficulty level. So if that’s the case, then the final encounter that we essentially see in the the picture is three huge aboleth underneath a boat carrying the party.

That said, that’s the last picture we see for the update. Michael has also done art for what looks like a nightwave, also CR 20, so that could also be a final encounter, or was something that was come up with to help balance out the a lack of XP before then.

I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out how to make aboleth a threat, and then I happened to talk to a buddy who had just finished running Shattered Star for his group, and everything finally made sense. Being a D&D 3.5 player, I had access to the Monster Manual, and something in the back of mine recalled that the aboleth had two versions of itself in it. Sure enough, the aboleth mage right there. It’s on the SRD as well. Combine that with me further researching aboleth in the Lords of Madness book, and I had finally figured out how one could make a viable opponent for the party.

Well, to be fair, there’s three of them in the picture. Add their combined encounter level of 20 to the fact that you’re fighting them in their element, and it’s probably a CR 21. However, if your group is particular wilful and enchantments won’t be doing much this encounter, the aboleth will quickly realize this and teleport away in some manner. They’re not going to allow themselves to slaughtered so easily. They’ll come up with a plan and try again later. The party has definitely got their attention though, and their next bout will be much different.

ABOLETH MAGE    (CR 17; 102,400 XP) Unique Advanced aboleth enchanter 10/loremaster 3 LE Huge aberration (aquatic) Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +23 Aura despair (30 ft., 12 rounds), mucus cloud (5 ft.) DEFENSE AC 31, touch 14, flat-footed 26 (+3 armor, +4 Dex, +2 deflection, +1 dodge, +13 natural, –2 size) hp 280 (21 HD; 8d8+13d6+199) Fort +15, Ref +14, Will +22 OFFENSE Speed 10 ft., swim 60 ft. Melee 4 tentacles +20 (1d6+9 plus slime) Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft. Spell-Like Abilities (CL 16th; concentration +21)   At will—hypnotic pattern (W-DC 17), illusory wall (W-DC 19), mirage arcana (W-DC 20), persistent image (DC 20), programmed image (DC 21), project image (W-DC 22), veil (W-DC 21)   3/day—dominate monster (W-DC 26) Arcane School Spell-Like Abilities (CL 12th; concentration +20)   12/day—dazing touch Enchanter Spells Prepared (CL 12th; concentration +21)   7th—empowered cone of cold (R-DC 27), heightened chain lightning (R-DC 27), mass hold person (W-DC 28), power word blind   6th—disintegrate (F-DC 25), mass suggestion (DC 27), maximized lightning bolt (R-DC 26), quickened mirror image   5th—feeblemind (W-DC 26), heightened hold monster (W-DC 26), empowered lightning bolt (R-DC 25), quickened magic missile, teleport, wall of force   4th—ball lightning (R-DC 24), confusion (W-DC 25), crushing despair (W-DC 25), dimension door, greater invisibility, maximized magic missile, moonstruck (W-DC 25)   3rd—dispel magic, displacement, heroism, hold person (W-DC 24), lightning bolt (F-DC 23), suggestion (W-DC 24), wind wall   2nd—blur, bull’s strength, eagle’s splendor, fox’s cunning, hideous laughter (W-DC 23), resist energy, touch of idiocy   1st—alarm, bungle (W-DC 22), charm person (W-DC 22), expeditious retreat, glitterdust (W-DC 20), magic missile (2), shield   0 (at will)—arcane mark, daze (W-DC 21), mage hand, resistance Opposition Schools divination, necromancy TACTICS Before Combat If the aboleth mage is aware of intruders, it casts blur, bull’s strength, eagle’s splendor, resistance, and heroism. Once it knows what type of creature it’s facing, it considers resist energy and greater invisibility. During Combat An aboleth mage always tries to subdue prey first, as they are always in the market for more slaves. On the first round, the aboleth mage activates its aura of despair then uses a quickened dominate monster and a mass suggestion to have everyone not give in to hostility and jump in the water for a relaxing swim. Arcane spellcasters are their primary target of feeblemind. If a ranged specialist is present, the aboleth uses their quickened mirror image and shield spells. An aboleth mage will attempt to coat potential slaves in slime or have them affected by the mucus cloud. Anyone unaffected by enchantments is instead attacked with evocation spells. Morale An aboleth mage refuses to die in battle. They are aware that not all creatures are affected by mind control, and will teleport away for a time once they are below half their hp. They will carefully think about they will proceed going forward. The stronger the creature, the higher quality of slave. STATISTICS Str 28, Dex 18, Con 28, Int 28, Wis 20, Cha 20 Base Atk +12; CMB +23; CMD 40 (can’t be tripped) Feats Empower SpellB, Eschew Materials, Greater Spell Focus (enchantment), Heightened SpellB, Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Lightning Reflexes, Quicken SpellB, Quicken Spell-Like Ability (dominate monster), Scribe ScrollB, Skill Focus (Knowledge [dungeoneering]), Spell Focus (enchantment), Spell Focus (evocation), Weapon Focus (tentacle) Skills Acrobatics +27, Appraise +13, Bluff +19, Diplomacy +17, Heal +25, Intimidate +22, Knowledge (arcana) +24, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +24, Knowledge (geography) +24, Knowledge (history) +24, Knowledge (local) +24, Knowledge (nature) +24, Knowledge (planes) +24, Linguistics +22, Perception +23, Sense Motive +19, Spellcraft +24, Stealth +13, Survival +12, Swim +28, Use Magic Device +16; Racial Modifiers +8 Swim Languages Aboleth, Abyssal, Aklo, Aquan, Common, Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Gnome, Ignan, Infernal, Protean, Terran, Undercommon, plus 7 languages SQ arcane bond (amulet), enchanting smile +4, lore +1, secret (dodge trick, knowledge of avoidance) Gear amulet of proof against detection and location (bonded item), bracers of armor +3, headband of vast intellect +2 (Heal), ring of protection +2, rod of metamagic (extend), “Tome of the Deep Masters” spellbook SPECIAL ABILITIES Mucus Cloud (Ex) While underwater, an aboleth exudes a cloud of transparent slime. All creatures adjacent to an aboleth must succeed on a DC 23 Fortitude save each round or lose the ability to breathe air (but gain the ability to breathe water) for 3 hours. Renewed contact with an aboleth’s mucus cloud and failing another save extends the effect for another 3 hours. The save DC is Constitution-based. Slime (Ex) A creature hit by an aboleth’s tentacle must succeed on a DC 23 Fortitude save or his skin and flesh transform into a clear, slimy membrane over the course of 1d4 rounds. The creature’s new “flesh” is soft and tender, reducing its Constitution score by 4 as long as it persists. If the creature’s flesh isn’t kept moist, it dries quickly and the victim takes 1d12 points of damage every 10 minutes. Remove disease and similar effects can restore an afflicted creature to normal, but immunity to disease offers no protection from this attack. The save DC is Constitution-based.

Tome of the Deep Masters Protections Average lock with arcane lock (DC 35), symbol of laughter on the first page of the book (Will DC 25), symbol of stunning on the last page of the book (Will DC 28), and the 5th- and 6th-level spells are hidden with secret page. The special word is “succumb” in Aboleth. The book and pages are made of leather and completely waterproof. Spells contained within are all prepared spells plus: all Core cantrips; 1st—erase, identify, mage armor, memory lapse, protection from good, unseen servant; 2nd—arcane lock, bear’s endurance, cat’s grace, darkness, knock, magic mouth; 3rd—nondetection, protection from energy, secret page; 4th—black tentacles, dimensional anchor, resilient sphere, stone shape, symbol of laughter; 5th—cone of cold, dominate person, dismissal, fabricate; 6th—geas/quest, greater dispel magic; 7th—symbol of stunning

-------------------------------------------------

If what’s on the update page is correct, then that should complete Book 5.

These are my own designs for how I think things might go, and can be changed or ignored entirely. It was just something I wanted to do for myself. The itch has once again been scratched for the time being.

[enterinit]

Stellaris: Utopia and other games coming to Xbox One this week

Stellaris: Utopia and other games coming to Xbox One this week. Ancestors Legacy (August 13, 2019) A history-inspired, real-time strategy game influenced by historical events in the Middle Ages. Combining resource management and base building with large-scale, squad-based battles across vast battlefields and a cinematic action camera that puts you right in the middle of the battle. Stellaris: Utopia (August 13, 2019) Utopia is the first major expansion for Stellaris, the critically acclaimed science fiction grand strategy game from Paradox Development Studio. Utopia gives you new tools to develop your galactic empire and keep your people happy. Push your species further out into the galaxy with new bonuses for rapid exploration or stay closer to home before striking out against all who would challenge you. Exception (August 13, 2019) Exception is a combat platformer set inside a computer system which has been hijacked by a totalitarian virus. A lone member of the system must step up to lead the resistance and battle against this brutal regime. Expertly combine razor sharp reflexes with elaborate attacks to topple the virus and restore freedom. - A New Approach to Platforming - Two-dimensional action in a three-dimensional world. Entire levels transform to reveal new challenges and opportunities. Explore distant areas exposed by the shifting environment. Each level is an elaborate puzzle that unfolds as you progress. - Synthwave Soundtrack - A soundtrack assembled from the very best Synthwave artists. Enjoy nearly two-hours of Synthwave tracks which complement Exception's retro-futuristic aesthetic. - Challenge the Leaderboards - Compete for the best time on your favorite levels through more than 100 leaderboards. Take on your friends or players from around the world. - Illustrated story - The story of Exception told with illustrated cutscenes. Learn about the system collapse and subsequent power vacuum that gave rise to a fascist virus. Join a gang of four misfit software threads in their journey to overthrow the brutal regime and restore freedom to the system. - Upgrade your Character - Execute a variety of special attacks and string together creative combinations to maximize your destruction. Collect hidden artifacts to purchase attack upgrades and push the limits of your destruction. - Dynamic Bonus System - Chain multiple airborne attacks to earn time bonuses. Harness your creativity to uncover the fastest level routes with the most bonus potential. Aggressive attack strategies yield the highest bonuses. Features: Conquer 128 transforming levels set in 16 unique computer worldsProve that you're the best Exception player in the world with online leaderboardsIllustrated cutscenes bring the world of Exception to lifeSix special attacks to unlock as the player progresses128 collectible items to upgrade special attacks15 enemy bosses to overcome with your advanced skillsSynthwave soundtrack from nine international musicians PC Building Simulator (August 13, 2019) The Ultimate PC Building Simulation has arrived! Build your very own PC empire, from simple diagnosis and repairs to bespoke, boutique creations that would be the envy of any enthusiast. With an expansive marketplace full of real-world components you can finally stop dreaming of that ultimate PC and get out there, build it and see how it benchmarks in 3DMark! Run your own Business The career mode in PC Building Simulator puts you in charge of your very own PC building and repair business. From your own cozy workshop, you must use all your technical skills to complete the various jobs that come your way. Learn to Build a PC Does building your own PC seem like an impossible task? PC Building Simulator aims to teach even the most novice PC user how their machine is put together with step-by-step instructions explaining the order parts should be assembled and providing useful information on what each part is and its function. Vasara Collection (August 14, 2019) For the very first time, highly acclaimed Japanese Arcade Shoot’em Ups - Vasara (2000) and Vasara 2 (2001) - are made available to the whole world via this package: VASARA COLLECTION! Science Fiction meets History in these arcade classics which take place in an alternate timeline Feudal Japan where technologically advanced weaponry and equipment are a reality, and heroes use flying motorcycles with amazing firepower and fierce melee weapons to destroy their enemies. Try and stay alive on this frantic game where everyone, and everything, is out to kill you! Features: Tate Mode/ Vertical Mode support;8 playable characters inspired by real Japanese historical figures;Sci-Fi meets Feudal Japan in this retelling of historical battles;Fight Robots and Samurais using traditional shooting and powerful melee attacks;Heavily skill-based gameplay for Experts;Easy Mode for Starters;Branching Paths and Multiple Endings according to your characters and in-game actions; Slay the Spire (August 14, 2019) We fused card games and roguelikes together to make the best single player deckbuilder we could. Craft a unique deck, encounter bizarre creatures, discover relics of immense power, and Slay the Spire! Features: Dynamic Deck Building: Choose your cards wisely! Discover hundreds of cards to add to your deck with each attempt at climbing the Spire. Select cards that work together to efficiently dispatch foes and reach the topAn Ever-changing Spire: Whenever you embark on a journey up the Spire, the layout differs each time. Choose a risky or safe path, face different enemies, choose different cards, discover different relics, and even fight different bosses!Powerful Relics to Discover: Powerful items known as relics can be found throughout the Spire. The effects of these relics can greatly enhance your deck through powerful interactions. But beware, obtaining a relic may cost you more than just gold… Edna and Harvey: Harvey’s New Eyes (August 14, 2019) Life at the convent school isn't easy for Lilli. Only her vivid imagination lets the shy girl escape everyday-drudgery under the stern, watchful eye of the Mother Superior. She diligently works through her chores, no matter how unfair they may be. Her innocent, imperturbable way of carrying out the orders of others has something both tragic and eerie about it. Any resentment, any childlike disobedience is buried deep beneath a seemingly impenetrable shell of sweetness. And if anything goes awry or gets ugly, the jolly censorship gnomes got her back: they put a nice coat of pink paint over all the things Lili would rather not consciously confront. But are her little potato-shaped budies real or just a figment of her vivid subconscious? Maybe it's only a matter of time until she completely loses her mind! When her best friend Edna disappears under mysterious circumstances, Lili bravely sets out on a dangerous journey, not only to get her friend back, but also to confront her subconscious fears. Features: Unique, hand-drawn comic style backgrounds and animations – now also in HD!A classic Point & Click adventure with all the traditional virtues: take everything that's not bolted down, engage in dialogies, solve puzzles… you know the drill.Bizarre characters and crazy humorA remarkable gaming experience with challenging puzzles, several hours of dialogue and 53 different locations Gravity Duck (August 14, 2019) Have you ever wanted to be rich? What if you could become rich and control gravity!?This duck can with your help! Flip, dodge, and traverse mind-bending gravity puzzles in 140 levels in order to grab all the eggs to return to the Maui statue! Need to change direction of your gravity flips? Use the gravity wells to switch the direction you fall in order to get around obstacles and grab the eggs! Features: Flip between 140 levels across 4 chaptersCatchy 8-bit musicVibrant pixelated levelsUse gravity wells to change the direction in which you fallDodge spikes, projectiles, and traps to secure the eggs. Tactics V: Obsidian Brigade (August 15, 2019) Tactics V: "Obsidian Brigade" is a retro-style tactical turn-based video game in homage to console tactical RPGs from the 1990s. Its set in an in-house fantasy setting with it's own lore and magic, It also uses techniques to convert to a 2D isometric look from 3D assets. Content Included: Robust combat system (with many mechanics: facing, targeting styles, actions, delayed actions, reactions)World map navigation.>50 hand crafted levels>80 scripted scenes/battles25+ hours and new game plus3 ½ tiers of gear/weaponry13 unique unlockable classes>50 skills (proficiencies, abilities, power casting unlockable)>140 powers (Elemental magic, close range, Archery, Imbue poisons, etc.)Optional cooperative main-game via assigning troops to another controller during deploymentTraining option allowing a non-fatal combat to be controlled by player(s) or AI to gain XP and Skill pointsOptional Alternate top-down perspective available Features: Tactical Turn-Based CombatRole PlayingLocal Coop Aritana and the Twin Masks (August 16, 2019) “They are not ready…” Are you? Prove your value in Aritana and the Twin Masks. An adventure based on Brazilian mythology and culture that will carry you deeper into the forest's mysteries. This second Aritana's adventure extends gameplay possibilities, bringing a bow and arrow gameplay, 3D movement, vast sceneries in open landscapes and powers that help the player solve several puzzles. Explore a colossal temple, find artifacts that can be mixed in many special potions, and prepare yourself to save the Tree of life. Also, you can further explore this magical universe with comics that shows more about the temple's events. Unmask all the mysteries and follow Aritana on his journey to save the Tree of life, discovering ghosts from his past. Features: An original story based on Brazilian mythology and folklore;Enemy confrontation is also a puzzle-solving endeavor;Look for hidden artifacts to improve your chances of survival;Explore the vast YpY's Temple in a third-person adventure game;Create special potions with tropical fruits and objects from the temple;Uncover the truth listening to a fantastic soundtrack. Read the full article

[brightideawritings]

The Divine Contract: Chapter 2

Here we go! Chapter 2 of the little sidefic inspired by the incredible @earthsong9405‘s Goddess!AU! As always go visit her page and see the amazing art and world building she has done!

“Tastes like…purple…window panes…” Rarity said in her asleep. Several more minutes of incoherent mumbling followed ranging from that daisies made the best muffins and the fashionable minotaurs wore dresses made of apples before the light of the rising sun woke Rarity. Ignorant of her own sleep talk Rarity yawned and stretched in her modest bed before she swung her hooves toward the edge of the bedside. Here she hesitated.

“Another day and so far not one step closer to saving Ponyville.” Rarity sighed, and played the events of last night in the Everfree Forest. Battling the shadow-demon and Twilight’s failed capture of the second shadow-demon followed by another two hours of waiting for Twilight to finish inspecting every inch of the area for ‘pan-dimensional resonance’. Rarity had returned to her quarters in the Temple of the Gods exhausted and disappointed. She had passed out immediately upon climbing into bed. This would be Twilight’s fourth day in Ponyville and they both were still no closer to discovering the reason why the shadow-demons were attacking Ponyville.

“Honestly, why do I feel so…hollow?” Rarity shook her head. She was awed by the magic that Twilight displayed, she controlled the energies of the dominion of magic so effortlessly it was in many ways breathtaking. Unicorns that were trained in the higher levels of magic needed time and preparation for complex spells but Twilight seemed to be able to use them with the barest of flickers of her horn. Rarity did not doubt Twilight’s Divine powers, but Rarity still felt as if there was some sort of gulf that had opened up within her over the last few days.

“I have been preparing for months for this. I’ve kept so many secrets from Fluttershy, Cheerilee, Sweetie Belle and so many others.  I should be happy, but-” Rarity stopped her monologue when she heard a single knock on her door. At first confused at who would be calling upon her so early in the morning she was quickly not surprised to see the door open after the first knock revealing her sister, Sweetie Belle.

“Rarity! I’m coming in!” Sweetie Belle cheerfully shouted after she had already jumped into Rarity’s room. She looked at Rarity in her bed and her face frowned in disappointment. “You’re still in bed? WE have hospitium duty today and YOU said YOU would show ME how to do our duties!”

Rarity winced on the inside, she had completely forgotten she was to show Sweetie Belle how to administer to the wounded in the temple’s hospitium. As Sweetie’s Sister Superior it was Rarity’s duty to train the priests-in-training under Rarity’s wing. Rarity had made sure her afternoon and night duties had been shortened so that she could work with Twilight so she had overloaded her tasks to the morning shift. In particular she had switched hospitium duties with Fluttershy. Rarity surrendered and decided she had to put aside her worries about the shadow-demons for now.

“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity’s voice carried out into the hallway with mock mortification, “How many times have I told you that a priestess, and just as importantly a proper lady does not just barge into somepony else’s room uninvited? You must be courteous and who knows what you might see if you do not give a pony time to open the door for you.”

“Like what?” Sweetie Belle asked, but Rarity ignored her question and had already pushed off of the bed and closed the door behind Sweetie Belle. Rarity became a whirlwind as she dressed for the day, she did regret not properly combing her mane or putting on a facial mask the night before but Rarity had her ways of hiding how haggard she may appear to be.

“Again, a proper pony does not ask.” Rarity replied even as she combed her mane, “Where is Scootaloo? You both are attending the hospitium today.”

“Ohmygosh, I forgot to wake her up!” Sweetie Belle practically jumped in place before she streaked out of Rarity’s room. Rarity allowed herself to smile as she finished the last of her preparations and slipped into a fresh set of robes.

In a few minutes, Rarity had left her own quarters and collected both Sweetie Belle and her friend and fellow priestess-in-training, Scootaloo, from the dorms for neophytes. Rarity had pulled many strings to get Scootaloo accepted into the Temple of the Gods, the priesthood did not accept many initiates that were unsponsored (otherwise the priesthood would be straining to accommodate the orphans from the wars and shadow-demon attacks). Fortunately, Cheerilee was sympathetic and Rarity had arranged for a modest fund toward accepting Scootaloo as an initiate in the Temple of the Gods.

“Rarity! What are we going to do in the hospitium?” Sweetie’s voice echoed through the marble corridor even as its owner pranced around Rarity.

“Ooooo! What if we get to do surgery? I call dibs on the saw!” Scootaloo’s voiced joined with Sweetie’s, the filly dodging her friend as the both made completely opposite orbits around Rarity.

“Nuh uh! I want dibs!”

“Surgery? Really? Have we not been studying up on the roles and duties of a priest have we?” Rarity knew the answer to that questions already, but still the reaction from both fillies was priceless to watch.

Even Rarity was quietly shocked by both fillies stopping in front of her at the exact same moment, their faces turned toward her with genuine fear. A nagging part of her wondered if the two had choreographed it but their responses quickly washed away any thoughts in Rarity’s mind.

“Uuuuh…” both filies responses, looking at one another and back at Rarity.

“Ah, I see” Rarity responded, a slight smile on her lips as she continued down the corridor past both Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, “Perhaps…perhaps I should mention to Cheerilee that you both could use some extra hours instructions…”

“Extra hours?!” Sweetie Belle gasped, “we can’t Rarity, after our daily duties we said we would meet Apple Bloom and-“Rarity’s younger sister was cut off by a swift elbow to her ribs by Scootaloo.

“-and help her buy some supplies in town!” Scootaloo finished for Sweetie Belle. Rarity did not need to look back to know both fillies were holding their breaths for Rarity’s next words. Do I doom them to a late afternoon of dictation and higher learning from Cheerilee or granting them freedom to play out their own agenda?

“Well…” Rarity paused for dramatic effect, during her own spare time after daily duties it would not be an uncommon sight to see her engrossed in a new novel that filled with drama, mystery and pregnant pauses, “I just may forget to talk to Cheerilee if you both pay attention and keep quiet while we are in the hospitium…”

“We will Rarity! Your, uh, Journeymare Priestessness!” Scootaloo was the first to chime up and catch up to Rarity’s walking pace. Sweetie Belle was a swift second.

“Scootaloo’s right! We’ll be pay so much attention you’ll never notice! We’ll be like…like…”

“Temple ninjas! That would be so rad! I bet we could make really cool throwing stars out of-”

“Girls! We are here! Look! Look!” Rarity hoped she didn’t sound too desperate to steer Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle from their current course of thinking, but if she used ANY of the past attempts by the two fillies to skirt their neophyte training or add ‘extra curricular’ training it would not end well. Rarity needed both fillies distracted and shooed any thoughts of being ‘Temple Ninjas’ into the forgotten corners of their filly minds. Rarity was still apologizing to June Bug for taking their talk of “Temple Torchbearers” less than seriously, even though Rarity went out of her way to compliment how well June Bug’s tail hair had grown back.

Fortunately, both Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle were immediately taken by the sight of the hospitium. It was one of the larger rooms within the Temple of the Gods but it did at times feel fairly cramped, much of the space within was taken up by row after row of cots and a few privacy screens. Rarity was thankful to see that the majority of the cots were unoccupied. Unbidden memories leapt up, shrieks of pain and shouts of terror always punctuated the by the sounds of soft sobbing and the final breath of-

“Rarity!” Sweetie Belle’s voice cut through Rarity’s thoughts, she shook her head and looked down at her sister.

“Yes, Sweetie? Did you say something?” Rarity softly loosened the grip on her sounding staff, she hadn’t notice how tight her grip had become.

“Aren’t we supposed to tend to the statue of Redheart, goddess of healing first?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Normally, we would,” Rarity smiled and gestured toward the statue of Redheart. The statue itself was carved from a portion of the north wall but rose across the ceiling of the room, with her head leaning down and arms widespread she looked to be encompassing the entire room with her arms and every corner was within her soft gaze. “Different Divine have different preferences.”

“Like apples and oranges?”

“Birds and bees?”

“Red and blue?”

“Pronouncing ‘vase’ as ‘vah-se’ instead of ‘vay-se’?”

“Almost. It is very much linked to each individual Divine’s likes and tastes. Not just in preference of something so material as the object of sacrifice but the proper action. Orthopraxy. Redheart would be insulted if a ritual to her was completed before tending to the sick and wounded in her view.”

“Isn’t it hard to remember each and every single Divine’s likes and like-likes?” Scootaloo asked.

“Yes, it is for most ponies. That is why there is a Temple to the Gods, not every settlement has one but fortunately Ponyville is big enough. We enact a civic duty for the entire town! We make sure the Divine, if some pony is coarse or blundering enough to offend them, take their anger on that individual pony and not on the entire town.”

“We give praise to the Divine when there may not be a pony in Ponyville to do so. No matter the act be it to freshen up their shrine with newly cut flowers, tending to the sick, or…” Rarity murmured quietly to herself, “…going on nightly patrols of the Everfree…”

“Going on nightly patrols of the…?” Scootaloo asked.

“Patrols of the temple!” Rarity hurried forward before either Scootaloo or Sweetie Belle could continue with that particular line of questioning, “Watch and learn, girls.”

Taking several steps into the hospitium Rarity stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes for a moment. After several moments, a smile split her features, her eyes moments ago had looked tired and haggard with a lack of sleep but now they almost seemed to shine with a newfound energy. Rarity breathed in deeply and let it all out.

“Gooooood morning, my darlings!” Rarity’s voice echoed throughout the hospitium, more than enough for every and any pony to hear her she continued her voice laced with an easy cheer, almost teasing but in a good-natured way, “How are you my gentlecolts and lovely ladies doing this Divine given morning? Hmm?”

Dozens of worn out faces turned toward Rarity from across the room. Some were standing, but most had to lean up from or crane their heads on their cots to look in her direction. Some were in the hospitium because of sickness but most were for injuries sustained from the latest of the shadow-demon attack to mundane farming accidents. Most were there because either they had no home to stay in or family to take care of them. The mood in the room, formerly somber, immediately shifted as the ponies visibly perked up at the sound and sight of Rarity, that could have mumbled a broken chorus of good mornings, while others simply smiled and laid back down or went back to their previous conversations.

“A Divine once told me, at a friend’s birthday party, that a smile is more than enough to brighten up a day” Rarity turned to tell Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle before she was off toward the first few patients.

To a patient observer Rarity moved through the hospitium with the grace of a ribbon caught in a summer breeze. Graceful in her motions and a pleasantly surprising sight to see. One moment chatting, some may say gossiping, with an older mare who was too weak to get out of her cot, the next changing the bandages of a stallion and before you knew it she was taking the temperature of a mare while also subtly mentioning the stallion in the bandages always seemed to be looking the mare’s way with a blush. Always she would be thanked and always she would reply the same, “Think nothing of it dear, generosity is always in style.”

It was not long before Rarity, with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle hurrying to keep up arrived at one particular cot whose occupant did not seem too pleased at all to be stuck in the cot. Besides the fact that she was tall enough that her hooves hung over the edge the occupant looked about ready to leap up and buck an apple tree.

“Ahh, Applejack. I see we are getting caught up on that rest the doctors recommended you take. Oh, wait my mistake dear, they didn’t recommend it but ordered it, did they not?”

“Phooey. I ain’t needin any bedrest! Just because I got my arm bite off by one of them shadow-varmits everypony thinks I need fifty winks every time I sneeze! I ain’t going to fall over in ah breeze!” Applejack grumbled from her cot, her one good eye staring out toward the ceiling, far away from Rarity’s unimpressed gaze. It was true that Applejack was, Rarity had admitted to herself on more than one occasion, impressively built. Standing at around 6’7ft Applejack was larger than most stallions with the particular exception of her brother, Big Macintosh. Even missing her right arm up to the shoulder Applejack was a powerful sight to behold, the bright pink-red scars that marked across her body and over her shut right eye only had added to what was a mountain of what Rarity considered ‘stubbornness in pony form’. Applejack had been so severely mauled by a shadow-demon that no one had expected her to recover, no pony else ever had, but after a month she had returned to her family farm as if nothing had changed.

Which at times was a problem.

“That may be true, you have already proven you have incredible stamina, but…” Rarity let her words fall, and her gaze travel toward the ceiling.

“…but what?” Applejack asked, Rarity did not even need to turn her head to know Applejack’s gaze had drifted down from the ceiling to her. When Rarity looked back at Applejack she had been 100% correct, even correctly guessing Applejack’s scrunched brow.

“Well, you were out for a month, darling. What if one of your wounds reopened and you were back here for another month or even a week or two? A night or two isn’t so bad compared to that is it?”

“I suppose…” Applejack’s stubbornly scrunched brow collapsed into one of worry. If Rarity was correct she was weighing the possibility of missing out more time at Sweet Apple Acres and how it would affect her family. Rarity could not have prayed to the Divine for better timing when a filly’s voice with a similar twang to Applejack’s began to shout in the hospitium.

“Sis! Sis! It’s me, Apple Bloom!” Applejack’s younger sister shouted as she sped between the cots of the hospitium before jumping on one cot to use it as a springboard to cross the aisle and land on top of Applejack.

“I heard yah, Apple Bloom. That shadow-varmit didn’t scramble my brains.” Applejack beamed at the sight of her sister and squeezed her tightly in a one-armed hug.

“Apple Bloom!” Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle chimed in from behind Rarity and were soon scrambling past Rarity to talk with their friend. Rarity noticed Applejack’s smile seemed to grow wider as she looked at her sister and friends talk among themselves. Applejack looked up at Rarity and winked.

“It’s good Apple Bloom has friends. With all this shadow-varmit hooey going on ‘am happy these three can find a way to have some fun.” Applejack whispered to Rarity. Applejack’s words made Rarity smile as well, not the cheerful smile she had worn since entering the hospitium but one that was less of a show for ponies who needed it and more genuine for just herself.

“I was ah little surprised to see you here today, Rarity. I thought Fluttershy was supposed to be makin the rounds?” Applejack asked. Rarity froze in place as Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle stopped and turned toward her.

“What about Fluttershy?” Apple Bloom asked.

“She did say she would be here the other day.” Scootaloo added.

“Yea, why wasn’t she here to teach us?” Sweetie Belle added.

“Ah, well you see girls…Fluttershy actually traded duties with me today…because she…she…”

“I bet it’s because she can’t stand the sight of blood.” Applejack interrupted, nodding her head but at the same time looking at Rarity knowingly. She was only a handful of ponies that knew Fluttershy very well…

“What, really?” Apple Bloom asked, looking between Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.

“I remember! That one time a supplicant tripped and scraped their knee on the stairs REALLY badly. Blood was EVERYWHERE!” Scootaloo said, waving her hands to emphasize.

“It wasn’t THAT bad Scootaloo. Just a scrape, but you’re right. Fluttershy was there and she just kept staring at the blood. And shaking. I think by the time Cheerilee pulled her away she was sweating.” Sweetie Belle said.

“Kind of wimpy to want to pass out from seeing a little blood if you ask me” Scootaloo shrugged her shoulders.

“I thought you said it was EVERYWHERE, Scootaloo” Apple Bloom elbowed Scootaloo in the arm.

“It was! Everywhere, sure most of it was on the supplicant’s pants but-“ Scootaloo and her friends continued to argue among themselves about the definition of everywhere.

Thank the divine for small favors and how easily sidetracked these three can be! Rarity sighed in relief and turned to Applejack who hadn’t taken her eye off of Rarity.

“So, if you’re taking over for Fluttershy now I suppose that means you’ll be free in the evening, right?” Applejack asked. Rarity winced on the inside, Applejack despite being what Rarity considered a straightforward pony she was remarkably adept at telling bluffs and lies. If somepony was not being 100% truthful she knew. Rarity had to choose her words carefully.

“Yes, that’s right. I will be free this evening” Rarity replied curtly.

“Oh really? I hope you aren’t gettin into any…trouble.” Applejack leveled her gaze at Rarity.

“Trouble? Me? I don’t ‘gettin’ into any trouble, Applejack.” Rarity smirked and tossed her mane over her shoulder.

“Then what are you doin later then?” Applejack continued, she seemed unwilling to let Rarity go without a more solid answer.

“I’ll be heading to the plaza.” Rarity replied, which was true. Before Applejack could ask what she would be doing in the plaza Rarity knew she had to lead Applejack off. Fortunately, Rarity’s reputation as a hopeless flirt had persisted even from when they were fillies together. “Why do you ever ask, darling? Does big, strong Applejack need a little assistance from a priest’s…healing hands to get back to Sweet Apple Acres?”

Rarity had laced her words with such a sultry undertone her words may have come from a demon. The not-so-innocent giggle and flutter of her eyelashes were the icing on the performance, but it was more than enough. Applejack blushed and shook her head, scooting under the cot’s blankets a little more and even holding them up as if that would be enough to ward off Rarity.

“Nn-not at all! Like I said, I’m fit enough to wrestle a minotaur! I don’t know why you go to the plaza to stare at those dresses the merchants bring in. Seems like a waste of a good afternoon when you could be doing so much more and…” Applejack continued to talk about the fine work ethic of Earth Ponies, particularly the Apple Family, and Rarity knew she had been successful in keeping Applejack from prying too close.

What she was doing with Twilight Sparkle was dangerous, and she would not let either her family or friends to come to harm because of her responsibility…

[rpchive]

123rd Encounter-- Fortissimo

another new guy! but will he be joining us...?

Demo and Maya wait around with Paprika in the console room for the IT to land at its next destination. Daedalus casually makes his way inside the console room and stops when he notices the others. "You guys seem like you're having fun." Maya: Well, we've been sitting here tossing some ideas for things back and forth, but aside from that, yeah, nothing's been happening. Daedalus: What, you guys trying to decide our next vacation spot or something? Paprika: Well, no; the IT is just a very...adverse atmosphere; so I was just thinking, well, why're the bedrooms the only really different looking things? Everywhere else looks pretty normal; so I figured maybe we could all just change the place up a little? Everything looked exactly the same in Lobotomy, so I don't see any reason to keep everything the same anywhere else. Daedalus: Huh, I wouldn't have taken you for an interior designer. So you want to remodel the IT? Paprika: Well, not alone, but yeah, why not? No sense in keeping everything all the same forever. You can have a bunch of different kinds of bread over time, but if you ate nothing but the same sandwich for a while, you'd get pretty sick of it. Daedalus: I... guess? I'm not exactly sure how you'd go about changing the place though. Seems like it just kinda does its own thing every now and then. Unless that console has a "press here to redecorate" button, I'm not sure where to start on that one. Paprika: Well, uhh...I mean, it does what people need of it, right? So maybe if everyone wanted stuff to change, it would? Daedalus: Sheesh, this is starting to feel like a Carebears episode or something. Paprika: Uhh! Umm, besides that...! The IT's gonna land soon enough, so...you don't need to stay here, unless you want to... Daedalus: Are we going anywhere specific, or is it just sorta following its heart again? Paprika: It's somewhere we haven't been before! But that's about all I know right now... Daedalus: Aaalrighty. I guess I can bounce while you guys try and make the place look nice. Anyone else going? Demo: Dunno, haven't seen tweedles dee and dumb yet today, but I'll come along.

Maya: I'll go too; we oughtta give Nydins and Rio a chance to look this over.

Paprika: Oh, yeah, of course! I'll go, uhh...find them, then. Soon enough, Jay, Collin, and Fawkes join the rest of the group in the console room.

Fawkes: Is this everyone? Maya: Looks like it for today. Daedalus: Cool, let's bounce then. I'm not sure what the IT's gonna do when it starts remodeling, but it's probably gonna be pretty funky. The exploring group exits the IT into a large city; the sun seems to have set some time ago, however, leaving the streets lit with lamps and the headlights of the occasional passing car; though no one seems to notice the group exit the IT. Daedalus: Huh, surprisingly urban for a change.

Collin: It's kind of pretty, honestly. Feels like it's been a while since I've been in a city like this. A man rushes by the group, bumping into Maya slightly as he passes. There is a moment where he glances behind himself to apologize only to truly get a look at his surroundings. Stumbling backwards a bit, he remembers what he's running from and keeps going regardless, however he does call back to the group: "You'd better run too; we've got company coming!"

Moments later, the ground begins to shake as something large charges forward through the mess of buildings, its form mostly obscured by the darkness of the night; however, it is clearly about half the height of any of the current surrounding buildings. Daedalus: Oh for fuck's- We just got here! alienrabitt: I don't think whatever's coming this way is gonna care...! Daedalus: Screw it, just run!

He spins around and darts after the man that ran into Maya just a moment ago, quickly followed by the rest of the group. Stopping for a second, the man looks around himself, muttering "I gotta get to a roof" before taking off again, making his decision as the beast behind the group rounds the corner and begins to make its way down the street; a mass of black scales, red eyes, and a multitude of arms, legs, and mouths running across the length of its body, which has a more round shape in comparison to everything else. Screeching, the beast continues to hurry after its prey.

Demo: What the hell is that thing?!

???: That's what we wanna know! Things like that just started showin' up outta nowhere one day! Collin: Why isn't anyone trying to stop them?!

Daedalus: I'm pretty sure eldritch abominations are outside of the police's paygrade! ???: I watched that thing eat a car; I don't think guns are gonna do anything! Besides, most people can't even see that! Or...me! Well, when I'm like this, anyway... Collin: What is that supposed to mean? ???: It's just...I don't know, unless I wanna be seen, most people just...can't see me here. It's like these things exist in a different dimension or somethin', but the damage they do happens on both sides. Fawkes: Do you know how to stop that creature, then? You said something about a rooftop a moment ago. ???: Oh, I can stop it, I just need to get some distance between us! Daedalus: Alright, you lead the way then, but if you turn into one of those things I'm gonna be pissed! Grabbing a fire escape ladder, the man yanks it down in one smooth motion and begins to race up the stairs as the creature slowly approaches the building.

"...These things get bigger when they eat metal; so if it starts eating the stairs, we're in trouble! Keep it back if you can!" Fawkes: They get bigger if they eat what?

you’re on the menu, buddy

Daedalus: Just don't try to hug it and you'll be fine! ???: Like I said, keep your distance!! Once I make it to the roof, just try not to get caught up in anything! Daedalus: Whatever that's supposed to mean!

He takes several steps forward as he summons forth a bow of flames, backed up shortly by Collin as he starts charging an electrical current. Fawkes changes his arm into a laser configuration as he keeps a sizable distance behind the other two. The creature reaches the edge of the building, desperately attempting to squeeze into the alley between the two buildings the fire escape is on as it snaps its jaws and reaches out for the man rushing towards the roof, who is only halfway there. All three open fire simultaneously, barraging the creature with a hail of fire, electricity, and concentrated energy. Fawkes tries to focus more on the eyes with his laser while the other two seem more preoccupied trying to take out the arms reaching for the man trying to climb up the building. The creature recoils from the onslaught of force, screeching and hissing as it desperately attempts to swat away its assailants. The man on the fire escape makes it up another few levels. Dodging a swipe, Daedalus looses another couple of shots as he calls out behind him. "Hurry up, will you? This ugly bastard can't seem to take a hint!" Reaching the edge of the rooftop, the man hastily starts to pull something out from somewhere on his person. "Working on it!"

Retrieving the currently unidentified object, which seems to be glowing purple and green in the dark, the man stands on the edge of the building for a moment. "Hey, ugly! You picked the wrong city to fuck with! Tell your friends the concert's gonna run as long as there's an audience!" The creature turns its attention to the roof and screeches one last time as it attempts to scale the side of the building, only for the sound of a string instrument to physically cut through the night air. The man on top of the roof plays an entire song, each note tearing into the beast below, sending chunks of it crashing down onto the pavement, only for them to burst like glass and dissipate into the shadows. The man's music continues to carve into the beast until nothing is left behind save for a small, glittering object that falls down onto the sidewalk in front of the building, unidentifiable from the current distance. With that, the dimensional disruption seems to stop, and pedestrians wandering aimlessly around distant buildings come into view.

Carefully, the man on the roof makes his way back down to the group, no longer having distance or darkness obscuring his features. The man appears to be no older than 30 at the most; a pair of yellow, round-rimmed glasses sitting atop his dark, round face; soft, green eyes staring out from behind him. The man's hair seems to be up in some small, tight braids that have been pulled into something like a ponytail; a gradient from a deep turquoise to a brilliant green color. His outfit seems to be some common street clothes; a purple jacket resting over a black shirt and some dark colored jeans over some white sneakers. Slung over his shoulder is what appears to be an old, blue gym bag of some sort; one of the ends has clearly been sewn shut several times over, a multitude of colorful threads sewn across in various patterns, some with added flair, as if it had become something of a game to whoever's been mending it. There are several patches ironed and sewn on across the bag as well; some with names or dates on them; some shaped like stars, or musical notes, or other miscellaneous things.

Letting out a sigh of relief, the man addresses the group again. "Thanks for the help! Couldn't have done it without you." Daedalus: What. Was. That?

he’s based off this guy, so imagine that when he plays!

He dispels his bow and pushes his sunglasses back up against his face, having slid down his nose slightly during the man's musical onslaught. "Did you just play an instrument so hard that you shredded that thing apart?" ???: I mean, yeah, I guess. Seems like it ran in the family. Magic, I mean; not...music, but that did too. Daedalus: Just who are you, anyway? ???: Folks around here call me Falsetto; but you guys can call me TJ.

short for Terrence Jones! neither of those are his last name

TJ’s our Daedalus’ bf!

Collin: So is this how you normally spend your evenings, or is this a recent thing? TJ: Well, those...things started showing up about 7 months ago. Nobody knows where they came from, and nobody knows what they are. Once something stops being a part of the body, it just...disappears; and if you kill 'em, then nothing gets left behind...

He glances off where the object fell. "...Most of the time." Daedalus: Oh right, I thought I heard something when you blew that thing apart. Did it leave us a present? Walking over to where the object fell on the sidewalk, TJ brings back some unrecognizable, crystalline mass twisted up in all different directions. "Just another one of these. I'd say about a third of these things leave one behind..."

Demo: ...It looks so...sad...who's art project broke out of an eldritch seal?

alienrabitt: 7 months ago...did, uhh...anything else show up?

TJ: Not that I've seen, why?

alienrabitt: Well, something else happened about that long ago, but we weren't here... Daedalus: Uh, someone want to get me up to speed here? I wasn't exactly around back then. You guys didn't break something, did you? alienrabitt: The opposite, actually. We kinda...fixed a god? Collin: But why would putting Phoenix back together make these things? alienrabitt: Well, um...I know that thing's really messed up, but...has anyone killed a shalvenn before? I mean, everyone kept saying it corrupted their bodies; why couldn't it ruin their oracles?

Demo: Wait, so you think these things are saas?

alienrabitt: Um, well, were...

Demo: That's bullshit; nobody here could be corrupting saas like this, especially if nobody else even has magic.

Maya: But you don't need bad magic to make a kleivenn into a shalvenn; Jay started turning just because he kept messing things up...

alienrabitt: H-hey, it was...more complicated than that...! Collin: But why would saas start corrupting more once Phoenix was back? Wouldn't the opposite make more sense? alienrabitt: No, no, I think it's that saas started showing up because Phoenix came back, but something is making them go bad!

Demo: But how would anybody here even know about what a saa is...? Daedalus: I get the feeling we're talking over TJ's head a little here at this point. How 'bout it, maestro? You know anything about magical creatures or anything that could turn them into those things? TJ: I've only seen the monsters; I don't know anything about them...nothing else weird's been happening. Collin: Something isn't right here. There has to be something that's causing saas to corrupt like this, but what? TJ: Your guess is as good as mine. I haven't found any leads on any of this...

Demo: Maybe if we took all those fucked up oracles to Phoenix she'd know what's happening? Even if she can't fix the saas, she could probably find out what happened before they...got twisty... Daedalus: Is that a patented term?

Collin: I think it's worth a shot, at least. Probably the best lead we've got at the moment. TJ: Then I'll have to go get the rest from my place. I don't carry 'em around in case somethin' comes out of 'em. Daedalus: You've got a collection of these things? TJ: Hey, I wasn't gonna leave 'em in the city! What if they reformed or somethin'? Daedalus: I doubt your closet or wherever you're keeping them is gonna hold up much better, but I get what you're saying. How many do you have? TJ: I'd say about 7; 8 including this one. Nothing else left one behind.

alienrabitt: You were probably breaking them...

TJ: Can't help it; my music's not precise. Collin: Let's not worry about that right now. We should take the rest that you have to Phoenix and see if she can figure out what's going on here. TJ: Alright; sounds good with me. I'll go get 'em and meet you back at your vending machine. Daedalus: I'm surprised you're not more confused about that one... TJ: I'm more confused about why you put a keypad on it... Daedalus: Hey, I didn't make the thing. Talk to that guy if you're giving critique.

He jabs a thumb over his shoulder in Jay's direction. alienrabitt: In my defense, it didn't look like a vending machine when I built it... Collin: It was also way more cramped inside though... alienrabitt: I didn't make it for like...four people; I just needed to get out of the session...y'know, 'cause I was the only one left.

TJ: I don't know what you guys are going on about, but I'm gonna go home to get the...whatever you called these things.

He shakes the twisted oracle a little for emphasis before turning to walk away.

Maya: You sure you should go alone? What if one of those things pops out?

TJ: I've got my instrument. Daedalus: If we hear another concert starting, we'll come running. With a dismissive wave, TJ heads for the eastern part of the city.

Daedalus taps his foot impatiently as TJ starts to walk away, a pensive look on his face, then lets out an annoyed groan before he begins to follow after him.   "Hang on, someone needs to go with you. If another one of those things shows up, you're gonna need someone to run interference." TJ: Suit yourself. Just don't get lost; not like you could... Daedalus: I don't intend to sightsee, don't worry about me. The pair heads off into the night, no passerbys nor cars paying them much mind. Daedalus: This place seems awfully tame considering their nightlife includes giant balls of arms and teeth, doesn't it? TJ: Well, most people can't see those things. It's like they exist in a separate dimension or somethin'... Daedalus: Oh right, forgot you said that earlier. That's pretty weird, considering most people can see kleivenn. Whatever's screwing with these saas must also be making them invisible to most people too. 'Course that begs the question of why we can see them... TJ: That's what I'd like to know. Daedalus: Guess that'll be Phoenix's job to explain. So, what did you do before taking up vigilante justice? Can't imagine fighting monsters was the first thing on your mind when you picked up... whatever that was you were playing. TJ: Not much. Dad was in music; mom...isn't around. I've been livin' with my aunt and uncle for a while now. Had a part time job as a barista for a little while, but I had to split the scene when some shit hit the fan at home. Daedalus: Ah, sorry to hear. So you don't have much luck with family stuff either then, huh? TJ: My dad's a real in and out kind of guy. Always has some new big project he's gotta get to; and, I mean, I don't mind, but when the family business became my business, I just wish everyone'd been honest with me from the start. Daedalus: Family business? TJ: Magical affairs; keeping the city safe from things that bump in the night; like these weird mouth things. Daedalus: Ah, so you suddenly found out that you're from a line of magical crime fighters. I guess that was probably a more interesting talk than the birds and the bees though. TJ: Less crime, more monsters. This whole area's got a long history of magic users; but a lot of the people here try to keep it a secret. Doesn't change the fact that there's something in the area that's basically a magnet for trouble, though; so every time some new kind of monster or somethin' comes tearing through a district, people just cover it up and move on. Daedalus: Is that so? Hmm...

He seems to drift off in thought about something, too far to finish a proper response.

watcha thinkin’ sunshine?

A little confused by the reaction, TJ ultimately doesn't confront Daedalus over it as he reaches the house his aunt and uncle live in.

"...You can come in if you want; I've never brought anyone home, but they'll probably be happy about it." Daedalus: Huh? Oh, uh, I guess? I figured I'd draw unwanted attention, but if you insist... TJ enters the house, entering a little room with some stairs to the left; a doorway to the kitchen on the right; and an open path to the living room straight ahead, where TJ's uncle can be seen sleeping in front of a TV he forgot to turn off while a couple of children play on the floor in front of it. One of the kids, a little girl with her poofy hair pulled into a pair of pigtails, glances up from their toys to wave at TJ, only to notice Daedalus and point it out to the little boy across from her. Excitedly, the kids get up, sneak around the uncle, and meet TJ at the base of the stairs.

???: You brought somebody home! You never bring people home! Who is he? Is he your friend?

TJ: Somethin' like that. Hey, Mika, keep it down, alright? Uncle Tom's trying to sleep; don't get grounded.

The little girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms as she gives TJ a particular look. "I won't..."

With a little smirk, she glances over at Daedalus, then back at TJ. "Risa's gonna get mad if she finds out you came home this late again."

TJ: Yeah, well, she's gonna be mad if she finds out you two're still up too, so we should all be goin' upstairs.

Grabbing the little boy's hand, Mika rolls her eyes again as she heads upstairs. "Somebody had to wait for you..." Daedalus glances over at TJ. "Siblings, I'm guessing?" TJ: Niece and nephew, actually. Daedalus: Ah, gotcha. Sounds like you get along, at least. TJ: We try.

Heading upstairs, TJ goes off to what's presumably his room, then comes back downstairs with a backpack in his hands. "Alright, let's get outta here before anyone wakes up." Daedalus: You got it. You leaving a note or something? I get the impression that you're coming with us to sort this out. TJ: Nah, they're used to me going in and out too. They know what I'm doing. Daedalus: Fair enough. After you, then. TJ backtracks back into the city and starts heading back towards where he saw the IT. "So, do you guys just...show up in places?"

Daedalus: Sometimes. Other times we choose where we land! We basically just follow the smell of trouble and help where we can. It makes for a very, uh... adventurous lifestyle. TJ: Don't you get tired of it? Daedalus: I haven't been at it for as long as the others, so I'm not exactly burnt out yet. I've definitely seen it wear on some of the older members though. Not sure what the long term plan is there, frankly. TJ: Why're you all doin' that anyway? Do you have to? Daedalus: I think everyone has their own reasons. It started out as one thing, but as more and more people started to join up with us, it kinda turned into what it is now. Just a ragtag group working to make things better for others, and all that other sappy nonsense. TJ: I guess that makes sense; but why not just...have people stay where they're needed? Daedalus: Not everyone has a place to go back to, including yours truly. Hell, most of us don't, really. That soda machine's all we've got. TJ: So you're a bunch of...homeless orphan superheroes? Daedalus: Now you're gettin' it! TJ: I mean, I guess I know why you do it, but you can't solve everybody's problems forever... Daedalus: I'm not arguing with you there, but we don't have a lot of other options right now. I'm sure some day we'll hang up our hats and move to the countryside or go our separate ways or... whatever people do when they stop adventuring. Mm...

He makes a face like something he thought about left a bad taste in his mouth.

[bastille voice] and you’re scared of being left behind

TJ: ...Well, I'm sure everyone's gonna be needing you guys for a long time. However long that is.

The pair returns to the IT's location. "Anyway, guess you should let me in." Daedalus: Oh, right.

He swings the door open and lets TJ go inside before him, closing the door behind them as he follows TJ in.

I know it’s been like 3 seasons since it’s been relevant but there’s a code you need to unlock the door to the IT, and it’s “CC”

"Well, welcome to the IT. It's a lot bigger than you expected, probably." TJ: I mean...it is; I was just expecting a couple of rooms or somethin'; but this thing's a spaceship, huh?

Paprika: Not too far off!

TJ: ...Well, uhh...where do we need to go? Collin: Kujaar, the only kleivenn city around as far as I know. That's where Phoenix lives, and hopefully she'll know what's happening to all of these saas. Are the oracles you found in that bag? TJ: Yeah; all the ones so far. Hopefully there won't be more of those things while I'm gone. Daedalus: Shouldn't be too long. Do we have an ETA on that, Paprika? Paprika: Same day; shouldn't take longer than half an hour. Daedalus: There you have it. Not bad for hopping across worlds and dimensions, huh? TJ: That's genuinely impressive. Alright; let's get these things to Phoenix. The IT heads for Kujaar, where it eventually lands. Nine greets the group upon arrival, but has no further questions beyond who TJ is before allowing everyone back into Kujaar. Collin: Well that's good, we've brought new people here once or twice before, but I wasn't sure how smoothly that was gonna go. alienrabitt: Usually they're more wary of humans...guess they didn't care this time. Daedalus: I'm guessing they trust us not to drag in someone that's going to cause problems, so don't go blowing our winning streak now, TJ. TJ: I'll keep the violins to a minimum, then. Daedalus: Was... that a pun? Paprika: Yes; and sax is out of the question!

Daedalus: Oh hell, I thought it was just Clair but it's already spreading. Demo: Hey, if puns are the worst thing he can do, I welcome the change of pace. Daedalus: True, he hasn't pulled a gun on anyone yet, so credit where it's due. Maya: It was one time...

alienrabitt: Uhh, I guess we should go talk to Phoenix about this stuff? Collin: That's the plan. I just hope she doesn't get too freaked out by a bag of oracles... Jay; TJ; Daedalus; Collin; and Clair all head off to Phoenix, who seems as pleasantly surprised as ever to have the company.

Phoenix: You're back again! And with such an interesting group again; you're always so full of surprises...! Collin: It's in our nature, I suppose. Anyway, we have something we were hoping you might be able to help us with. It turns out that saas are beginning to show up again, but... well... TJ: Well, I don't know if these are saas, but they're certainly...somethin'...

Opening the backpack, TJ shows Phoenix one of the twisted oracles.

Practically lying down to get closer to everyone's level, Phoenix squints at the backpack before shaking her head. "These aren't kleivenn. They look like they were made with the intention of looking like kleivenn, but they aren't quite right...something else is making these by itself." Daedalus: Someone's making bootleg kleivenn? I didn't even think that was possible. Phoenix: By all accounts, it shouldn't be possible to make a kleivenn from scratch; but...I don't know about these things. It looks like...like somebody heard about a saa, then tried to make one from memory.

alienrabitt: But how would anybody there even know about kleivenn? Didn't the war cover them up?

Phoenix: Here, yes; but we are an alien race. It's entirely possible they could exist beyond this planet. Collin: So someone or something back in TJ's world remembers kleivenn and is trying to make them itself? I don't suppose that rings any bells, does it? TJ: This is the first I've heard or even seen of all this stuff; so unfortunately, I don't think I'm gonna figure this out any time soon... Daedalus: Can we use one of those fake oracles to find the thing that made it? Phoenix: I could probably draw the memories out of it, but I don't know how well it would react. Collin: Do you think it would wake up and attack again? Phoenix: These things are twisted and ruined because they're unstable; who or whatever made them did it very hastily. I'm more worried the thing could detonate; and now that it's around actual kleivenn, if it woke up, who knows what it would do in its desperation to complete itself.

they’re eating metal because they’re mistaking it for oracles

Daedalus: Let's... not do that then, perhaps. That does leave us with the question of "how the hell do we find the source of these things", though. Phoenix: Unfortunately, I don't have any other answers for you, unless you can find a kleivenn that can definitely keep these things dormant while looking for answers... Daedalus thinks for a second, then reaches out behind Clair and gives her a fairly hefty pat on the back. "Found one."

Phoenix: ...You can?

Clair: I...haven't really tried anything like that, but maybe I could...

alienrabitt: Let's just be ready in case it tries to get back up again anyway. Daedalus forms a two-handed hammer in his hands and rests it on his shoulder. "You got it." Taking one of the twisted oracles from TJ's backpack, Clair sits on the floor with it in her hands, closing her eyes as she quietly begins to focus. She seems to look a little nervous every once in a while before she speaks again.

"...It looks like there's...a book? Somebody has a book somewhere...I can't quite tell...somebody young, but not a kid...I think they're a girl? She's sneaking off with something that doesn't belong to her...to a place nobody really goes...these things don't look so bad when she makes them...little marbles; tiny creatures..."

She puts the oracle back in the bag.

"...I...I can't figure anything else out; sorry..." Daedalus: Don't worry too much, it's better than nothing. Does that give you anything to work with, maestro? TJ: It's...close enough; uhh. A part of the city nobody really goes to, but it's close enough somebody could keep sneaking something like a book out to...I think I can find where that is. Daedalus: Look at that, Clair saves the day!

Dispelling his hammer, he reaches down to help Clair up off the floor. Accepting the help up, Clair quietly glances away before looking to TJ. "I don't think she's doing it to hurt anybody; I think she just...doesn't want to be alone. That or she's just practicing magic..."

TJ: The first time I saw one of those things, it swallowed a tanker whole. If I hadn't stopped it, it would've eaten an entire bridge. This is a little more than practice; even if she doesn't know what's happening. Daedalus: She's just worried about the girl. The monsters we can stop however we need to. TJ: ...I know; I just don't want this getting even more out of hand. Collin: We're with you there, don't worry.

Daedalus: Sounds like we're done here, then. Let's pile back inside and make our way back. You said you think you know where this girl might be, right TJ?

TJ: Well, I think I might know the area, but I'm not so sure I'll be able to find the exact building...

Daedalus: I mean, we just gotta find the one that monsters keep popping out of. Probably got some busted doors, maybe some holes in the walls, all that good stuff.

TJ: You've...got a point, yeah.Clair: But I don't think they're big and scary when they first show up; I think something's just...making them like that? I don't think it's the girl that's bringing them out, though...

Collin: I thought you said that she was making them just a minute ago. Or do you just mean she's not making them like that?

Clair: She's creating the things that are leaving these oracles behind, but they don't start out as those weird mouth things...

Collin: That's what I meant, yeah.Daedalus: Well, we're not gonna find 'em sticking around here, I can tell you that much.

Let's head back to TJ's place and see if we can track this book down, then.

Daedalus: Sounds like a plan.

Collin: Thanks for your help, Phoenix!

Phoenix: I wish you luck in helping these poor creatures find their peace./The group returns to the IT, which returns to the station it had previously parked at when the group had met TJ.

TJ: So, do we wanna split up or somethin'? I doubt we're gonna need a huge group, though...

Collin: I guess that depends on how long you think it'll take to search. If it's a big area, more people might help. If it's not so big, we might not need to.

TJ: I'd say the part of town that matched that description is roughly a block or two big.

Daedalus: Bah, that's not so bad. Alright, so who wants to go hunting for a monster factory?

I don’t think griffin’d appreciate these monsters

Demo, Jay, and Clair remain around.

Collin, Daedalus, and Fawkes also remain behind.

TJ: Alright, so this thing's probably gonna be in the northeastern district.

Fawkes: What makes you suspect that area?

TJ: Only one school nearby; a lot of businesses are pretty close; it's backed by the ocean; and there's a lot of empty buildings closer to the docks.

Daedalus: Sounds like a plan. I'll bet she's in one of the empty buildings in that case.

TJ: Just don't go racing around or anything. This kid's sneaking off with something she's not supposed to have, doing something she knows is wrong; if she thinks she'll get caught, she'll try to run or hide.

Daedalus: Don't you worry, fiddler man. I don't make a habit of running off on my own.

it’s a violin :/

The group heads for the northeast side of town, and TJ stands at the edge of the two blocks the girl could be at. "...Your best bet will be a building with a lot of metal missing. If these things eat metal to get bigger, people won't be parking cars or anything close to where stuff's gone missing."

Daedalus: If push comes to shove, we could always have tiny over here run around and try to lure 'em out.

Fawkes: I am not going to be monster bait!

TJ: Let's not get anyone eaten...

Daedalus: Fine, fine, I'll just rattle some tin cans or something then.

Collin: I guess we should start looking around, then. I get the feeling it'll be obvious when we start getting close.

The group searches around for a bit until they eventually find that a lot of cars seem to be parking on the opposite side of half of one of the two blocks, narrowing down the location of the building to that area.

Fawkes: I think we're getting closer now. I haven't detected anything too out of the ordinary yet, however.

TJ: We're definitely in the right place; just gotta find the right building...

Daedalus: My money's still on the one that looks the most abandoned or trashed.

Demo: I dunno, if these things started turning into creepy mouth monsters in front of a kid, don't you think she'd quit trying to make more?

Daedalus: I... can't argue there.

Collin: I guess all that we can do now is poke around and see if anyone is inside.

The group continues to look around the area, but there are no obvious signs of anyone breaking into any of the abandoned buildings. There is, however, a building missing its entire fire escape.

Fawkes: That seems to be a safety code violation. Do you think this might be our place?

Demo: I don't know what else'd strip a building of an entire fire escape...

Daedalus: Someone who really needs a nice set of stairs?

Collin: I kiiinda doubt that. Let's see if we can get inside.

It looks like some of the boards that have been sealing one of the windows up have all had nails pried open on various sides, allowing them to be rotated in a way that unobstructs the entire window, but only if all of them are rotated in very specific ways

alienrabitt: This kid seriously didn't want to make it look like anyone was coming in and out of here...

Daedalus: I get that she stole some special book or whatever, but she's acting like she's running a damn meth lab or something. Is the book really that big of a deal?

TJ: Is she trying to hide the book, or is she hiding from something...?

Collin: If that's the case, we need to find her first.

Demo: Do we seriously have the time to look through all these rooms?

Daedalus: Unless you've got a faster way, I'm not sure what else we can do.

Demo: What, can't the brave little machine gun scan for heat signatures or some shit?

that’s just the worst nickname possible

Fawkes: Already on it. Also don't call me that, please.

Aside from everybody on ground level, there's only one other person visible near the upper floors. They seem to have a couple of smaller, cooler signatures with them as well.

Fawkes: I see three signatures up above us. One is human, but the other two are unidentifiable. I assume they're more of those creatures in their early stages.

Clair: We can go look, but maybe you should, um...stay in the hall or something? If they get bigger when they eat metal...

Fawkes: I suppose that would be the best choice. Stay safe, I'll be waiting.

The remainder of the group heads up to where Fawkes found the heat signature, where they hear a young girl quietly talking to what are presumably the smaller monsters. "...You guys sure are hungry. That's all the screws I could sneak out from around town, though; you're just gonna have to wait til next weekend. But maybe you'll run off too. Seriously, how do you guys keep sneaking out of here...?"

Collin: Uh... excuse us? You might want to stop feeding those things, they're kinda making a huge mess when they get out of here.

The girl quickly drops something as she rushes over to the edge of the doorway, though she makes a point not to look into the hallway as she addresses the group. "Wh-who are you?! How'd you get in here?!"

TJ: Calm down; we're not here to hurt you. Your little friends in there just have some seriously big appetites, and the ones that are sneaking out have been eating cars and stuff.

???: "Wh-what?! Cars?! They can't eat--...!! They're...they're not even the size of a house cat! I know they eat fast, but...!"

Daedalus: Yeah, well, turns out things grow if you keep feeding 'em, kid. It's all fun and games until your little metal muncher is the size of a small house.

???: "That would take ages! They're just animals! ...I think..."

Demo: Yeah, animals that come out of a magic book and eat nothing but metal; totally normal.

???: "...Look, what do you want? If you're not here 'cause you're gonna rat me out, you're here for something else, right?"

Collin: We're here to stop whatever was creating these creatures you're making. I don't know why you have that book or why you're making these things, but you've got to stop. They're wreaking havoc once they get out of here.

???: "I just wanted to see a kleivenn up close! But they're starting out so small...I thought I needed to raise it or something; maybe that'd make it be like a real one..."

alienrabitt: Wait, so you know these things aren't actually kleivenn?

???: "I thought I could make one. This book's all about kleivenn; so I figured I could just...make one."

Collin: Trust us, it's not working the way you think it is. I don't even think you can make a kleivenn that way.

???: "How would you know?"

Demo: Two of us are kleivenn; will you come out now?

???: "You're just saying that to make me stop!"

Daedalus: No, seriously. The wonder-twins here are both fullblown kleivenn.

???: "Prove it!"

Rolling her eyes, Demo shoves Jay through the door into the room with the girl. "Would a human have an arm like that?"

alienrabitt: H-hey!!

The girl's quiet for a little bit before she lets Jay open the door the rest of the way as she heads back to the back of the room.

???: "...I...don't know what to say..."

Collin: Hey, don't go shoving him around like that! Why do you even want to see a kleivenn so bad anyway?

???: This book just makes them sound cool, so I wanted to see one...

Daedalus: .... Well, at least she's easy to read.

TJ: How'd you get a book like that, anyway? Those things aren't even from around here.

???: Oh, my dad got it from one of his business partners! He said the guy works with a kleivenn called, uhh...A Bus?

alienrabitt: ...A bus...? I don't think anyone's named after a bus...

???: He said they're named A Bus; not named after a bus...

Demo is suddenly trying to find a way out of the building without drawing any attention to herself.

Collin: ... Are you sure he didn't say "Anubis"?

???: No, not A new Bus, his name is A Bus.

Daedalus: Uh, Demo, where are you going?

Demo keeps her voice low, but urgent as she answers: "Anywhere but here! I don't know who the hell she's talking about, but every anubis I have is telling me that kleivenn's worse news than Xentrilis."

Daedalus unconsciously lowers his voice to match. "So you're just keeping that little tidbit to yourself?"

Demo: What am I supposed to do?! My anubis can't talk like we can; whatever I understand is the equivalent of trying to translate a phrase through six different languages before you can even get a word everybody else recognizes! I don't know who they're afraid of, or why; I just know that whoever's with that kleivenn is...whoever's with that kleiven is responsible for the whole war...

Daedalus: They're WHAT?

The little girl peaks into the hallway to look at Daedalus and Demo, though she locks her gaze with Demo. Speaking softly, she addresses Demo: "...Aren't you gonna let me see you too?"

Without even humoring her with a response, Demo summons forth the Candy Cane, smashes the nearest window open, and practically throws herself out of it, shifting to a massive, black sand dragon with a large, yellow stripe running all the way down its back as she races away from the building as quickly as possible. A little stunned, the girl backs back into the room. "Um...your friend just left..."

there’s Y, so we’ve seen R and Y now I think?

Daedalus: Yeah, because that book of yours is from someone who's worse news than an eye surgeon with Parkinson's. If I were you, I'd ditch that book and go back to whatever it is you were doing before you took up summoning these little shits.

???: But...! But I just wanted to see one first...! There's none left here! Dad said they're never gonna come back...!

Collin: Why'd he say that?

???: Because he and his friends don't want them here anymore...but you guys are here, so maybe they're gonna come back if I keep trying!

alienrabitt: N-no, we only show up if something bad is happening; we show up to stop things...

???: But...why would you wanna stop me? I just wanna bring the kleivenn back here...

TJ: Maybe they weren't sent here to stop you...tell you what, you quit bringing those little guys out of that book, and we'll make sure the kleivenn come back, alright?

???: How can I trust you?

Daedalus: Two of us are kleivenn and we haven't even tried to take your book despite the fact that you keep summoning monsters out of it. What more do you want, a friendship bracelet?

A little skeptical, the girl closes up the book, though the two small monsters continue to scavenge around the room, searching for scraps of metal. Neither of them are much bigger than a softball at the moment, essentially beaks with tiny bird feet and three tiny, slitted, yellow eyes on their faces. One of them is softly pecking at Collin's boot, though it doesn't seem to be doing much to it.

Collin: Hey, hey! You get away from that!

He pulls his left leg back and nudges the creature back with his other foot.

The monster hops a bit, peeping softly, though it can't seem to do much else than protest.

it’s....cute...............

Daedalus: Alright, so problem one solved. Now we've gotta find Demo and figure out what the hell to do about this bus guy.

alienrabitt: Easier said than done...

Daedalus: Tell me about it. Why the hell did she have to go and take off like that...?

Clair: I guess we'll have to ask her...

Collin: Does she have a communicator on her? It has a GPS thing in it, right?

alienrabitt: She should...

Collin fishes his communicator out of his cloak and fiddles with the screen for a few moments, trying to figure out how to find Demo.

Managing to get to the locaters, there are two obvious groups, one where Collin is, and one where the IT is. Counting the icons, it seems like Demo's returned to the IT.

Collin: Oh, I think she just went back to the IT. Either that or she left it there...

alienrabitt: Let's hope she just went home...

Daedalus: Let's at least go look. If she's not there, we're seriously up a creek.

Reuniting with Fawkes, the group returns to the IT, where Silky; Firefly; Maya; and Karumet are all waiting outside with Demo.

Maya: That kid didn't do anything weird, did she?

Collin: Aside from thinking these weird bird things were kleivenn, not really. She's just a little uninformed about kleivenn.

Firefly squints in the darkness. "There's something trying to climb into your boot..."

Collin: Wh- I told you to shoo!

He bends down and hastily plucks the little creature out of his shoe and holds it out away from himself.

There's a small tinkling sound as the little bird monster's tiny legs kick against Collin's leg, the bird itself squawking in protest as it wiggles around in his grasp. Its beak does not open, however, as it seems to be holding something in it.

Collin: H-Hey, that better not be a piece of my leg!

Holding the bird firmly in one hand, he grabs onto the object in its beak with the other hand and tries to pull it out.

It is not a piece of his leg, but rather, one of the shards that should be inside of it. The shard seems to be entirely unharmed, but is no longer glowing.

Maya: That...doesn't look good.

Collin: How did you even...? That was inside a glass chamber!

Silky: Did it peck through it?

Maya: Wouldn't he have heard that?

Firefly: We can't take that thing onto the IT...we'll have to get rid of it here. I guess Collin's still able to walk alright if he got this far with that thing messing around...you guys go inside and see what you can do about that; I'll deal with the bird.

With a slight hint of reluctance, Collin hands the bird over to Firefly and heads inside the IT.

Clair: I guess we'll try to look into whoever's been getting rid of the kleivenn here. Are you gonna try too?

TJ: Yeah; I'll let you guys know what I find out.

Daedalus: Running your own investigation, huh?

TJ: Better to have people looking around in as many places as possible, right?

Daedalus: I guess. Just be careful you don't get in over your head. This "Abus" person is sounds like some seriously bad news, even by our standards.

it’s actually spelled Aebos but we’ll learn more about them later

TJ: Trust me, I'll let you know if something weird happens that I can't handle.

Daedalus: Sounds like a plan, then.

With that, the group returns to the IT.

alrighty, idk what happens next but that’s that log finally, lol