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[meowvin-the-magnificent]

surprise preview!

just wanted to give you guys a sneak peek at both new interactions you'll be seeing, and an improved writing style, for the Outside rewrite. do note that this is Draft 1, so this snippet will likely go through changes with each edit, but....

Enjoy!

Jackie couldn’t help the way his foot bounced as he sat with his hands clasped in front of his mouth.

The place Yancy shared with Illinois and Magnum was nice. Clean. Right outside Claremont’s city limits to be away from humans. But it didn’t help his anxiety any.

He’d heard from Bing—not Chase—that they were all okay and in London. He’d gotten a snippy text from Henrik that he’d left and just needed time alone. Dark and the Googles were nowhere to be seen. And Jacques was off on their own, and Jackie knew that artist couldn’t fend for themself.

All that, in a new world, with a species they’d never physically interacted with, with laws that they could so easily break if they decided to act like Figments, and not humans.

The superhero groaned and rubbed his hands over his face.

It was… A lot.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and glancing back revealed Yancy’s brows arched in concern.

“Y’know you’s can talk if needed, yeah?”

“I’m just…worried. Stressed,” he admitted.

He’d noticed more grays at his temples from the stress of fading, and now this? Dammit, he’d have a full head of gray hair in no time if this shit kept up.

Yancy easily hopped over the back of the couch to land next to Jackie, looping an arm around the hero’s shoulders. “We’re here for the lot’a ya! Any of you’s need help—” he jabbed a thumb at his own chest, “ask me or Illy. Even Maggie, dependin’ what it is. Got it?”

Jackie was only given a moment to chew his lip before Yancy had him in a headlock to ruffle his neatly-styled hair into a complete mess. “Okay, okay! I got it!” he laughed, feigning a struggle to pull away (they both knew Jackie was more than capable, and he could have thrown Yancy through the nearest wall if he’d wanted to, but what’s the fun in that?).

He heard the clicking of dress shoes just moments before the chuckling of the man it belonged to.

“Roughhousing already?” Marvin asked. His mask was looped around his neck to give clear view of his eyes creased with laughter, and his aura almost seemed to mimic it where it reached out to the air around him. His cane was gripped lazily under his arm as he let his aura do the work to feel what was around him, and he sat heavily on the cushion at Jackie’s other side.

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

For the prompts, can I get 66 with the hero au, and with anyone. Thanks :D

66. “Get out of my head.”(This one ended up pretty long, but it was a good way to expand on Anti for the AU since I wasn’t quite sure how to write him/what to do with him!)Warnings: Alcohol, Drinking, Hallucinations, Torture (sound-based), Swearing, Demeaning Nicknames/Phrasing

Angus let out a slow breath as he slipped off his mask and tossed it aside. He didn’t watch where it landed. He’d just find it later when he went out again. His jacket and boots followed suit–all before he’d even made it to the kitchen of his small apartment.

He reached into the fridge; rummaged about a bit until finding a liquor bottle and taking it with him to the living room.

The apartment was quiet. A safe haven away from the streets where he donned his mask and called himself Bloodhound. Angus slouched low into the couch as he took a long drink right from the bottle. Not even his partner knew where he lived. He’d prefer to keep it that way. Sure, he liked the guy, but he could only deal with Toymaker’s incessant chatter for so long.

It wasn’t long before aching limbs were relaxing into the soft cushions, drink set aside on the coffee table. 

He rubbed at his eyes, yawned when he realized he hadn’t slept whatsoever the night before. 

Angus startled when the liquor bottle tipped over to send alcohol across the table and onto the cheap shag carpet. His mouth hung open as he blinked dazedly down at it. Don’t kick the table, he scolded himself. How much had he drank? He couldn’t tell now that it was spilled. 

He shook his head; leaned forward to right it. His hand missed the bottle.

Angus shook his head again when his vision swam. 

He hadn’t drank enough to be drunk. …Had he?

He sat bolt upright when the floor creaked, but immediately regretted it when it made nausea twist his stomach.

Shhh.

The voice was soft. He couldn’t pinpoint its origin in the dark apartment. Angus swallowed as his nostrils flared. The only scent he could pick up was his own body odor; the creaking stopped so that all he could hear was his own heartbeat. 

This is a safe place, he reminded himself. You’ve gotta be dreamin’, mate.

Look here.

Look where? Angus bared his teeth and pulled a blade from his belt. His vision swam again; he could see static at the corners of it.

Ah-ah. Play nice.

The knife was swatted from his hand and clattered off into the darkness. Cold hands snaked up his wrists, to his shoulders, found his neck. He didn’t dare move as sharpened nails danced over his throat before the feeling was gone again.

The static crept across his vision; assaulted sensitive ears. Popping. Screeching. Angus hissed and pressed his hands over them when the volume continued to rise.

You like making them wonder. Don’t you, Dog?

No matter how hard he pressed his hands over his ears, the voice still rang clear with its strange pitch-changing that grated on his hearing.

“S-stop…”

You like seeing them hope, but then turn to the other side just to watch it shatter when their offer isn’t good enough. Such a greedy little puppy.

Angus could practically hear the smile in the other’s tone. He dug his nails against the side of his head; squeezed his eyes shut when the volume increased again.

What happens when a new opportunity comes up, Dog? How long until you stab your partner in the back? Or, until he stabs you in yours?

“Ngh… Dammit, get outta my head!”

That ink… It would make for such a terrifying way to drown.

He could make out the silhouette. Barely. It stood even darker than the unlit apartment.

You really should choose a side. All your back-and-forth and back-and-forth is getting tiring. No one likes a bandwagon jumper and you’re going in fucking circles. Chasing your own damn tail. 

The figure scoffed. “Figure.” He almost wanted to scoff himself if his ears weren’t practically fucking bleeding. He knew exactly who this was.

Can sniff out anything and can’t even smell your own bullshit.

Angus yelped when the figure–the Glitch–was suddenly on him; strong hands wrapping around his throat and threatening to squeeze. The deafening noise stopped so suddenly it was disorienting. 

Pick a side. I’m getting tired of your shit, Bloodhound.

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

@maddf5 (oof sorry this took so long! ^^” I couldn’t find it but knew it was somewhere. For that reason, I’ll only accept prompts that come through my ask box from now on, though. They’re too easy to lose through replies.)

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the doctor shook his head. Too much paperwork, too little time, he thought with a huff. He sat hunched over his at-home desk. His scrubs had been swapped out for a turtleneck and comfortable jeans, but he didn’t have the time to relax.

His cellphone buzzed, but he simply flipped it face-down so he could focus on his papers. He needed them done by tomorrow. …Today? Last time he checked, it was almost midnight. He didn’t dare check the clock again. He knew that when he did, he would be rushing out the door to make it to work on time.

Jackie had said he was overworking himself. Maybe the hero was right, but Schneep just had too much to do.

An hour ticked by. Then another. Schneep felt tingling down his back that made his hair stand on end. When he turned around, nothing was there. The air conditioned behind him had kicked on, though. He glared at it a moment. He really should move it so it wasn’t right behind his head.

T̵ak̷e a br͝eak. Yo͟ù ̨ne̕e͘d͏ i͘t̵~

Schneep jolted in his seat. It’s just in your head, he thought. That thing wasn’t there.

Ņo̢w,҉ ńow̴, Ḑocto̢r͏. Do͟n̡'̷t li̶e̵ ̴to̢ ̡y̕o͡ursel̶f̶.̴

He swallowed. When he looked up, he was met by a pair of pitch-black eyes and a fanged grin.

“W̢h͏ąt ̧do̷ y͝ou ͝sa͏y̕ to a̵n̵o̢th̛er͜ hoĺi̷da͜y, ̀Doc͠t̴or̕~͠? “

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

Amber with apocalypse au

Jackie grunted as he helped his companion clamor up onto the roof. The ladder was old, rusted; it had creaked under their weight, forced them to climb up one at a time lest they risk it collapsing to send them to the ground below or leave them stranded at the top. There were other survivors a few blocks down who they’d slunk away from without being noticed.

Best to keep to themselves. Who knows who would go after them for their supplies and gladly leave them for dead. He knew the two of them could handle a few, but it had sounded like a group of at least half a dozen, as well as a dog. They couldn’t risk it.

Both were panting. They needed water, but their readers kept going off; while nowhere near the worse they’d seen, the radiation in the air was too heavy in that area. Their masks needed to stay on if they wanted to continue breathing.

“Y’good?” Jackie rasped, voice muffled behind his mask.

All Jameson offered was a tired thumbs-up before using his sleeve to start rubbing the dust away from his goggles. 

“Take a breather.” He set his heavy bag down, followed it with the currently unneeded oxygen tank; Jameson followed suit before plopping himself down and laying back on the concrete roof of what was once a business. 

Jackie ran a gloved hand through his hair, greasy strands falling and sticking back against his scalp and catching the straps of his mask. He knelt behind the little wall that acted as a barrier between the roof and a five-story drop, crossed his arms over it. He could see some of the city from there.

“It looks dead,” Jameson signed after more or less crawling to his side.

“It is.”

Jackie sighed and rested his chin over his arms. His goggles discolored the sky, but he about had it memorized by now. It was a sickly amber color, had been from the moment they woke up to see what had been left of their world. He couldn’t remember what blue skies looked like anymore. Even the clouds looked ill.

“Think we’ll ever see blue skies again..?”

Jameson’s hesitation was answer enough.

Probably not in their lifetime.

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

Platonic Marvin and Chase with “Harry Potter” or “Disney”??

Chase’s kids had run off to play games, but neither he nor Marvin had bothered to turn off the TV. 

The magician’s face was tilted toward the screen while his fingers skimmed the raised patterns in his book. He could feel Chase leaning at his side, but he didn’t mind. They both found physical contact comforting. 

“Been ages since I’ve seen this movie,” he finally said with a smile coming to his lips.

Chase stretched, and Marvin could hear the faint buzz as he hit the home button on his phone. “What? Brother Bear? It’s Sophe’s favorite!”

“It’s a good choice.” Marvin tucked his bookmark into the book after finishing the page and leaned forward to set it on the coffee table he knew would be a couple feet from the couch. “Ever shown ‘em Atlantis?”

He could imagine the way Chase scrunched his brows in thought, maybe scratching at his beard, then, ���Y’know… I don’t think so! Maybe when Ky was really little? He probably wouldn’t remember it.”

With a flick of the wrist, Marvin felt a case appear in his hand. Plastic, smooth; the cover was probably a bit off as he was going from memory, but otherwise he knew exactly what he held in hand. “Okay, you have got to show them Atlantis. This is the best Disney movie and I will fight you on that.”

When he pushed the case into Chase’s hands, the younger Ego started laughing. “You dissin’ Meet the Robinsons? My dude, I’m sorry but you’re so wrong.”

“Oh yeah? How about we see who Sophie and Ky agree with?” 

Another flick of the wrist, another case. This one had a blank white case–Marvin…honestly couldn’t remember what the cover art looked like–but it was still the movie Chase was so wrongly claiming was the better of the two. 

“Is that a bet?”

“Whoever wins gets the other’s dessert tonight.” Marvin’s clouded eyes narrowed and a challenging smirk found its way on his lips. “I think Schneep was gonna make cheesecake.”

“Oh, you’re on!”

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

HEY

HELLO

I THOUGH I POSTED CHAPTER 25 OOPS

I'd started writing it as a Whumptober prompt so I KNEW I'd at least started it and couldn't for the life of me find it :'D

So note to self: it's Day 26 in my Whumptober 2022 folder. I'll work on finishing the draft and cleaning it up so I'm happy with it!

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

sharing stories

re-introducing my Marvin and Jackie designs! they haven't changed much in the years I've been out of the fandom. but I love them so 💞

--Do not copy, edit, or repost my works. Reblogs are appreciated!--

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

here’s a bonus for you simps

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

“I’ll be your sidekick if you ever need me to be” with Chase and JBM???

He was tired. He was sore. Bruised, bloody, maybe had a tiny limp, but hey. Just an average day for the hero.

He still found it in himself to grin when the door opened on its own and he was walking into the living room to see Chase on the couch. The younger Septic only offered an arched brow.

“Dude. You’re a mess.”

That brought a chuckle out of him and he shrugged. “Just need a shower and clean clothes.”

“You’re not gonna go to Schneep?”

“Nah. Most of the blood’s from the other guy. …And my nose.”

A snort. “You didn’t break it again, did you?”

“No! Well… I don’t think so?”

“Come sit down, dumbass.” Chase rolled his eyes good-naturedly and patted the cushion next to him. “I’ll get you some tea or somethin’. And a wet rag.”

It didn’t take long for a rag to be tossed at him. Hitting him right in the middle of his chest, it left a funny dark spot on his hoodie. “Ass.”

Chase just offered a cheeky grin as he waited for the kettle to boil.

Jackie wiped down his hands, then his neck, started on his face only to wince when he tried to pass it over the bridge of his nose after pushing his mask up on his forehead. Okay. Maybe his nose was broken again. Dammit.

The kettle started whistling and Chase jogged back into the kitchen; he had a clean sweater draped over his shoulder as he moved the kettle off the burner. With his mask off his face and glasses still in his room, Jackie completely missed it as the sweater was thrown at him. By the time he realized, it was already draped over his face and Chase was laughing. 

“Oops?”

“Yeah, ‘oops,’“ Jackie snorted, tugging his hoodie off to change into the sweater. He took the tea offered out to him, letting it warm his aching hands as he sank back into the couch. 

The sofa shifted as Chase flopped down next to him, spilling a few drops of his own tea on himself and glaring at the offending dark spots on his sweatpants. He seemed to forget about it pretty quickly, instead asking, “Y’know you can call for help if ya ever need it, right?”

“Hm?” He raised his brows.

Chase nudged his shoulder. “You’re not the only one with powers.” He smiled, then. “C’mon, man. You ever need a sidekick, I’d be there in a heartbeat.”

Jackie nudged him back. “And put you in danger? No way!”

“Which one of us is legit bulletproof?”

“…Touché.”

“Hey, I know you’ll call Marv or Silver if you’re in a bind, but just sayin’. Whether it’s savin’ the day or helping you out here–” he raised his mug of tea, “–I’m here for ya, man.”

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

Heal Old Wounds

One-Shot, 613 Words Star Wars AU Forty-Theme Challenge Prompt 12: Healing

Warnings: Mention of Death & Murder Characters: Marvin the Magnificent, Septic Eye Sam

Blaster and electrostaff laying to his left, helmet to his right, blue-green eyes pinned on their quaint camp. A few tents, one building that looked like it wanted to collapse again, a small starship. And quiet. So much quiet. Too much.

Marvin closed his eyes and sighed. One year, two, three, four had passed, yet it still stung like a salt in the wound to think about it. To think about bodies littering their camp, smoking starfighters with Sami nearly crushed to death under one of them, shrapnel buried in their leader’s body.

Angus had helped him find out what Imperial had ordered the attack. That officer was dead now. Finally. Years of trying to track him down, and Marvin had gotten to watch the light die from his eyes.

So why didn’t he feel any better?

His eyes opened again, scanned the camp. He could still imagine the clan’s children running about as they sparred with each other. If he let his mind drift enough, he could still hear their leader—Ferr—as she chatted with the other members with her helmet tucked under one arm. He could remember Sami poking at something (what had it been again? It had hitched a ride during a cargo run, but Marvin couldn’t remember what creature it was anymore) when they were just a kid, screaming when it lunged and latched onto their helmet while the other kids laughed.

Now, silence. No laughter, no buzzing of conversation, no clanging of training blades or blasters firing at targets set in the distance.

Just deafening silence.

Marvin had one knee pulled to his chest and rested his chin on it as he glared to the desert beyond.

Was revenge…not how to heal? He’d thought it would help. For so long, he’d convinced himself of it.

And yet, as he’d looked at the dead officer laying at his feet, all he’d felt was numb.

How did one heal?

His eyes tracked Sami as they left one of the tents with a toolbox in tow. The only other survivor of their clan. Would anyone even call it a clan anymore? Or were they the only ones who did?

The Human sat themself near their ship and started tinkering with their jetpack.

How did one heal?

He watched Sam remove their helmet to set it aside. They had their tongue sticking out as they focused on the device in their lap. Their hair occasionally fell in their eye, so they’d blow at it with a glare, shake their head only to make it even more of a mess.

Sami was still young—practically still a kid as far as Marvin was concerned—and they seemed…accepting. Happy, even. Had Sami healed? How?

He tilted his head when something sparked, shocking their fingers, but they laughed after the initial surprise.

Marvin couldn’t help but smile a little.

Maybe…he had an idea.

The Cathar hauled himself to his feet, put his blaster back at his hip and electrostaff slung across his back, tucked his helmet under his arm. As he approached, Sami waved and grinned at him. They’d repainted their eye-patch recently, hadn’t they? The green and blue eye looked clean and fresh again.

“Hey.” Marvin sat across from them and picked up the nearest tool. It happened to be a broken one; he couldn’t tell what it used to be. “Want any help?”

“Sure!” Such a bubbly voice; they were practically bouncing as they shoved more tools at Marvin and set their jetpack between the two of them.

Maybe healing could just be spending time with those you considered family and looking to the bright side of things. Just like Sami did.

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

Whumptober Day 26: Abandoned Monster AU Warnings: Amnesia, Swearing, Major Character Death Characters: Chase Brody, Ego Central

(( these actually hurt to write- ghost!Chase has a pretty rough time ))

“…Marv? Come on, man, this isn’t funny.”

Chase could feel the unease prickling up his spine when no answer came.

“Marv?” His voice echoed through the empty halls. The building creaked but Chase ignored it as unease spiked into anger. “Marvin!”

Gritted teeth, eyes squeezing shut. No, no. Don’t get angry, he reminded himself. He no longer needed the air, but he took a steadying breath anyway.

Okay. Clear head. Don’t be like the spirits who let their anger get to them. You’re not violent. You’re not dangerous. Don’t let yourself become like them. He repeated the thought. Then again. Until the anger ebbed away.

Marvin had just gone out. For…for…

What had he gone out for again? Or was that last week? Month?

What year was it again?

Chase pressed his hands to his face and groaned. Central creaked again; he ignored it. What was Marvin doing? And where was Henrik for that matter? He pressed his fingers against his temples.

No, no. Henrik wasn’t there anymore. He’d been turned. He’d left to keep Marvin safe…a while ago. He couldn’t remember when that had been anymore. Marv was still human. Sorcerer, but human.

…Right? Was Chase forgetting something?

“Central. Where is he?”

The lights flickered.

“…No. No, he’s not.”

The pattern repeated, now accompanied with groaning floorboards.

Chase swallowed and clenched his fists. “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. Where the hell is he?”

A third time, the same answer.

“Stop lying!” His voice cracked as he shouted. “He’s not dead! He’s not! He can’t be! I-I saw him just—”

Just when? Yesterday? The day before? The week?

“Don’t lie to me.”

His hat flickered out of existence as he knocked it off his head. His hands found bleached curls and tugged as he tried to think.

“Where is he? Central, tell me where he is!” A sob broke his words, while the building only repeated itself a fourth time.

“He…he’s not. He promised he wouldn’t leave me alone. He promised!”

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

Alone

One-Shot, 238 Words Monster AU Forty-Theme Challenge, Prompt 15: Alone

(( this was written in like. ten minutes. I just wanted to write something tho :P ))

Warnings: Major Character Death, Panic Attacks Characters: Chase Brody

Stumbling steps.

Head clutched in his hands.

Rapid breaths he no longer needed to take.

Marvin gone.

Marvin gone.

House empty.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

The word bounced around his head like a ping-pong ball; the harder he shoved it away, the harder it came back.

His best friend’s body was rotting away in the study Chase refused to set foot in anymore. Or maybe it had already rotted. He couldn’t remember how long ago Marvin had passed. All he knew was loneliness; Central, their home, had fallen silent when the sorcerer spoke no more.

Chase truly was alone.

His silver eyes darted—this way, that way—as he tugged at his hair.

Oh, god, oh, god.

No more Marvin—alone—Marvin—alone—why wouldn’t the others return?!

A sob caught in the spirit’s throat as he sank to the floor and buried his head in his knees.

Alone. Trapped. No more Marvin. Trapped. Alone.

Could a ghost hyperventilate? He didn’t think so. It didn’t stop his chest from being too tight, or his mind from racing in the same horrible circles over, and over, and over, and over again and again.

Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was a horrible, horrible thing to wish for, but he wished Marvin had been trapped here with him. He wished the man hadn’t been at peace with his death. He wished…

God. He just wanted to hear his friend’s voice again.

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

Floating on Air

One-Shot, 552 Words Superhero AU – set before they were heroes; Marv’s about twelve in this

(( Note: in this AU, Henrik adopted Marvin short ficlet inspired by the prompt “love” from my forty-theme challenge! I love their father/son relationship in the hero AU and needed an excuse to write it, okay??? It was written and sorta-edited in like twenty minutes, but I figured I’d post it since I think it’s cute ))

Warnings: None. just a cute, fluffy little ficlet! Characters: Dr. Schneeplestein, Marvin the Magnificent POV: Dr. Schneeplestein

Pen tapping against the desk, Henrik’s tired eyes scanned the papers in front of him. Some of the words looked funny. He shouldn’t have left his laptop in the living room; he could have used it to translate them. They’d been in America for a few years, now, but some of the English terms still escaped him.

Meowing followed by laughter in the next room made him smile into his hand.

“Marvy, don’t pester the cat!”

“I’m not!” The boy’s voice cracked and Henrik couldn’t help but chuckle. All that did was make Marvin grumble, “It’s not funny!”

For a while, it went quiet again. There was the occasional rustling that made Henrik curious what Marvin was doing, and tiny paw pads squeaking against tiles as Daisy tried to skitter away from his feet in the kitchen, but nothing to raise concern.

“Did you finish your homework?” he asked after a while.

“Yeah! But I’ll need your help for a question. I think Mr. Flint messed up when he was typing it, ‘cause  it doesn’t make sense when my program reads it.”

“I’ll start dinner soon, but I’ll help you after we eat.”

“Okay!”

Henrik glanced toward his door to a soft thud followed by an “oops.” “Marvy? What are you doing out there?”

“Don’t look! I’m not ready yet!”

“What was that noise?”

“I just dropped my cane, it’s okay!”

“Just don’t leave it on the floor.”

“Yeah, I know. I won’t!”

Hmm. What was he up to? Henrik didn’t have much time to ponder before a tiny paw was prodding at his leg. Owlish yellow eyes peered up at him as the feline perched on her back legs to reach up at him with her single front one. She mewed and started purring when Henrik ran his hand between her ears. Marvin had wanted a cat for some time. Henrik had insisted he didn’t like cats and had only gotten one for his boy’s sake.

Daisy made him look like a lying fool.

She ended up flopping on her side after a short while. Henrik chuckled and nudged her with his foot; she decided to take it as an excuse to wrap all three legs around it and start chewing on his slipper.

“Da~ad! Hey!” Henrik pulled his foot away from the playful tortoiseshell and glanced toward his bedroom door. “Look! Hurry! Look, look, look!”

Hopping to his feet, the young doctor made a beeline for the kitchen. “Marvy, what—”

He couldn’t help but trail off.

Bright blue energy was swirling around the boy. Henrik had seen it countless times before, when Marvin practiced with his powers. With the magic that ran through his blood. “Marvy…you’re…”

“I’m levitating!”

Henrik covered his mouth as his face broke out with a grin. “Oh, look at you!”

He had his cane pressed against the ground to steady him as he teetered in the air, but he was levitating! He’d been trying for months!

“H-have you been practicing?”

“Yeah! I’ve been doing it in secret for weeks! I wanted to surprise you!“ He was completely ignoring the breaking of his voice as he smiled wide. Oh, the look on his face—it was priceless! He was so happy with himself.

Henrik couldn’t help the little clap he did. “Look at you!” he laughed. “I’m so proud of you!”

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

this was supposed to be a simple sketch but something went horribly wrong along the way. so have it.

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

Deep Blue Sea: Chapter 24

<< Chapter 23 | Chapter 25 >> [wip]

Chapter 24: Visions Subnautica/JSE Egos Crossover

Warnings: None Characters: Chase Brody, Second Officer Keen

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

It didn’t seem like that long ago when they’d last set foot on the Aurora. What, barely a week ago? It felt like only yesterday…

The pair still wore their radiation suits as a precaution, despite the fact their PDAs told them it was at “survivable levels.” The stiff flippers made their steps louder than Chase would have liked. This was a place of death, a grave, for nearly an entire crew. It was a place that shouldn’t be disturbed, a place where their dead should be allowed to rest.

“We’ll search other rooms for supplies after we have the data,” Keen said. His voice carried through the flooded hall, even louder than their splashing steps. Chase couldn’t help but grimace as it echoed.

“Right…” he answered, far softer. A part of him, a large part, knew the Cave Crawlers had eaten any bodies that may have remained from their last adventure onto the ship. The other was appalled by the thought.

He swallowed and forged ahead. The laser cutter was gripped tightly in one hand, a survival knife in the other. Crew quarters lined up on either side of them in the hall, and at the end, lay the Captain’s.

When they reached the door, Chase raised the tool and started cutting. He had to be careful not to catch his fingers to compromise his suit, but at least it cut easily. Slowly, but easily. Maybe they could get into sunken parts of the ship that remained locked with it.

Both men grimaced when the cut part of the door clattered to the floor with a bang. They glanced at each other, and it was Keen to nudge the metal away to crawl into the room first.

Taking his PDA, Keen approached the computer in the corner of the room and connected it. Chase scanned the shelves—the belongings that had, at one point, probably been neatly lined up on them. The covers on the bed were made, if a little askew from the crash; there were data logs scattered about that looked like they’d spilled out of a box laying on its side.

From one of the lockers lining the wall, the only one that had swung open, a few loose pictures had fallen out.

Chase bent down to pick one up, and couldn’t help the furrow of his brow as he glanced at Keen.

“You two knew each other.”

His voice seemed too loud in the silence of the room.

The picture looked like a graduation, or maybe the after party of a wedding, it was hard to tell. Keen’s hair and beard didn’t have a touch of gray like they did now, and he had a black dress jacket draped over his arm; there was also a little girl hovering at his leg in a cute, pastel blue dress, and matching bows in her hair. Captain Hollister had shed his jacket somewhere to leave the crisply ironed white shirt beneath, and had an arm slung around the Second Officer’s neck.

Keen’s smile was small, but it was there; the girl looked like she was giggling; and Hollister’s grin bared teeth behind a bushy mustache.

There was no answer for some time.

Then, finally, “We were close friends through college, and the Academy.” He left his PDA to keep downloading data and moved to Chase’s side, grabbing for the picture. There was no force in the action, but Chase could see sadness in the man’s eyes as he took it and looked down at the photo.

The way his thumb traced over the image of the little girl…

She…she looked like him. The same nose, the same curly hair, the same dark skin and the same black eyes that creased when she squinted.

“…Your daughter.”

No answer. Only a quiet nod.

Chase’s heart clenched, and he reached a hand up to touch at the pendent at his throat, hidden by his suit. Then they had something in common.

“We’ll make it home,” said Chase. “We have to.”

Keen gently folded the photo to tuck into one of the waterproof pouches on his belt, and turned back to the computer. “Your files mentioned you have children, as well.” His voice was unsteady, but one slow breath had it even again. “We’ll make it for them, if nothing else.”

Chase stepped up to the officer’s side. Right. Yeah, yeah. They would.

They had to.

Maybe Jackie and Marvin had had some luck finding notes from Bart or Antony; maybe they’d find a cure. Maybe they’d shut the gun down, then… Well, then they could try to figure out a way off the planet.

98%, the computer said.

“Data transfer successful. Corrupted file replacement successful,” Chase’s PDA chirped as Keen’s streamed the data to it; he nearly dropped it as he looked down at the new blueprints in the databanks.

“A rocket?!”

Keen’s own eyes were wide with disbelief at the new blueprint—the data package from HQ—that their devices deemed a “top priority build.”

“Dude! If…if we can cure this Kharaa, then, then we…” He could barely get the words out. They had a way off the planet! They had a blueprint for a literal rocket!

“Don’t get excited, yet.” Keen was studying the blueprint with a furrow to his brow. “Some of these supplies it calls for… We’ve got our work cut out trying to find them. And that’s assuming we cure ourselves, first.”

Chase skimmed the parts of the rocket. The kyanite was what had him most worried. He’d heard of that type of rock, his son loved geology and had rambled about it once. It needed…what was it, again? High pressure, high heat. How would they even…

His eyes drifted to the other blueprints that had transferred. Cyclops. PRAWN suit. There was also one for a drill arm attachment and jump jet module for the suit. That would make mining minerals so much easier! There were other blueprints, ones their PDAs hadn’t had before, or that the damages they’d sustained had caused them to be lost or corrupted. Moonpool, submersible upgrades, habitat additions, chargers, tools.

“PRAWN should be our priority, then a Cyclops,” Chase said. The Cyclops needed a lot of materials, but the PRAWN would make gathering them so much easier.

Keen hummed his agreement.

It was back to survival mode. Back to watching and listening, back to bloodying their fingers prying materials from the rocks. Back to avoiding predators. Back to building to survive.

Missing what was out of their reach needed to wait.

They both gathered up ration bars and water bottles that were left in the room, tucking them into a duffel bag that was stuffed in one of the lockers. It should have felt wrong going through the Captain’s belongings, but… Survival was survival.

Chase caught his partner taking one last look at the room as they departed to continue their search of other supplies. He’d never personally met Hollister, only heard him over the intercom or at crew meetings, but never personally spoken with the man. But, he knew all too well what Keen felt, losing friends to the crash. His mind drifted back to the pod Mason and Romero had taken, drifted to the memory of their final log, and their seaglide blowing up to kill them both.

Too many people had been lost with the crash. Far too many. They owed it to their dead to survive this.

Their search led to more supplies, more food, more water. Through each room, picking carefully through lockers and checking discarded bags and dealing with the occasional Cave Crawler or Bleeder.

Then, to the kitchen. The door in was open, allowing Cave Crawlers to get in and get to most of the food in there. But they instead gathered cooking supplies, spices. Sure, the fabricator could make the resident fish edible, but… Well, getting Jameson to properly cook some up would be a good way to get their spirits up.

It was a somber search. Neither man spoke much to each other. They wanted to get out, let their dead finally rest.

Chase’s eyes scanned a high shelf, his back to his partner.

There was little else.

As he reached for a bottle of what looked like soy sauce, his hand froze as his vision swam. Everything started spinning in a miasma of colors, and he was forced to grab a shelf as nausea twisted his stomach. He could almost imagine a figure at his peripherals, but turning his head only made it dart away into the spiraling colors.

“What…are you?”

The voice was soft, curious, and just as quickly as it was there, it was gone along with the nausea and spinning.

He stood still for what felt like too many long moments, but the clatter of something falling to the floor told him it had only been but a few seconds. His eyes flicked up to find his companion staring off at nothing, hands held loosely where they’d been holding a container only a moment ago.

Chase swallowed and took a tentative step toward the Second Officer.

“…Keen.”

His dark eyes finally focused, finding Chase’s.

“You, uh… You heard—uh, saw—that too, right?”

A mute nod.

“Then what the hell was that?”

Keen knelt down, admittedly a bit absentmindedly, to grab blindly for the container of pepper that he’d dropped. His eyes remained pinned on Chase’s face, as if he’d disappear into the colors if he looked away, too. “Maybe,” he started, swallowed as he tried to find his words. “Maybe we aren’t as alone on this world as we believed.”

[meowvin-the-magnificent]

anyone have drawing tablet suggestions?

I've had my Wacom Intuos Pro (medium) for...probably almost 8 or 9 years at this point? it was still considered a new device when I got it iirc. and it's finally starting to die on me.

it disconnects randomly and sometimes only a full laptop restart lets it reconnect, the center has been rubbed completely smooth from years of drawing so sometimes my stylus slips when I don't want it to, some of the buttons don't register right away anymore, and the charging port died long ago so I have to remove the battery completely to plug it into a wall charger (this one's not a big deal, and I know it's because of how I hold my tablet in my lap that the port was ruined. I have two batteries so I can rotate them if one needs charged but I want to draw)

it's been a great tablet! it's easy to use, it's lasted way longer than I expected, but it's time to start looking to get a new one.

is the Intuos Pro still a Good Choice, or are there better ones I should look into? there's a lot on the market, and this has been my first and only art tablet, so I don't really know where to even begin to look, and the Intuos is still...pricey, to say the least, but I'm willing to budget to get it again if it comes down to it

all I know for sure is that I don't want one where the image shows on the tablet's screen; I prefer looking at my laptop's cause it keeps my back and neck straight

TL;DR I need a new drawing tablet, and am looking for suggestions on ones to look into, preferably from someone with experience in their suggested model. My current one is the Wacom Intuos Pro.