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minim0t · 20 days ago

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planet x

g/t commission for @sizediscount

Pax, a space explorer, arrives on a new planet. It appears to be completely barren- that is, until he runs into one of the planet's particularly large inhabitants. I had so much fun writing this and developing some new characters!! I hope you enjoy it <3 word count: 2.9k

“Damnit!”

The swear left Pax’s mouth before he could control it, and within seconds he collapsed onto the dirt, a jolt of pain arising from his ankle.

He paused, processing this new development, then huffed. As he slowly pushed himself to his knees, he dragged his thick white sleeve over his face, removing traces of gray soil. Irritation continued to pull at his chest with every passing second.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered out loud to himself. The enormous forest around him offered no answer.

In fact, if Pax stayed completely still, he might think that he was looking at a painting. The trees stretched impossibly high above him, gray and rock-like, comparable to the mountains he had encountered on other planets. The white leaves were as frozen as ice. Not even a breeze or bird rustled them. Pax’s gaze traveled from the trees to the colorless dirt around him, and with a frown, he tugged a thick silver machine from his pocket.

“Twenty minutes after arrival. Planet X lacks color,” he muttered into the voice recorder, his green gaze glancing around at his surroundings. “No signs of life that I can see.”

He paused, as if someone might appear to prove him wrong, but the silence remained, dry and cold and overpowering. Disappointment tugged at his chest, and his gloved finger clicked the voice recorder off. He stowed it away.

Being a space explorer had its pros and cons, he decided as he pushed himself to his feet. The sheer material of his spacesuit offered an unpleasant scraping noise as he dusted himself off. He wrinkled his nose, then shook his head to dispel bits of gray soil from his umber hair. The only positive of this planet so far was its clear, safe oxygen levels, which allowed Pax to explore without wearing his uncomfortable helmet. That heavy nuisance was sitting back on his spaceship, somewhere far behind him.

A distant rumble sent a jolt of surprise down Pax’s spine. The explorer straightened up instantly, jaw tight, and listened intently.

In the gray, barren forest, something was undoubtedly moving. A low noise traveled through the ground, swaying leaves and disrupting the dry, empty air. Pax drew his bottom lip between his teeth, contemplating his next actions as his anxiety intertwined with his curiosity.

The noises were loud, but distant. Whatever was producing those large rumbles must be large itself, and while that worried Pax, he couldn’t deny that it intrigued him. What could possibly be thriving on such a dead planet?

Within seconds, he was given an answer.

The rumbling grew abruptly louder– evenly spaced, resounding footsteps, Pax realized with a jolt of surprise– and movement to his left caught his attention.

“Oh.”

The noise left Pax’s mouth in a hoarse, wobbly breath. Muscles within his torso tightened, cold and stiff.

“Oh.”

For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming— if the massive, towering, unbelievably tall monster before him was just a figment of his imagination. Surely, Pax had to be dreaming.

Two enormous legs stretched up and up and up into a long torso and lean shoulders, blanketed by what appeared to be a thick white coat. Pax almost felt dizzy trying to make out the distant details. He took a wobbly step back, and couldn’t contain a soft gasp when those enormous shoulders turned, revealing the creature’s face.

A narrow, pale face scanned the massive trees (although the trees must seem small to him!), whitish skin highlighted by the milky skylight above. Strands of light hair swooped around the creature’s head, forming soft bangs. Enormous lavender eyes glimmered and narrowed.

Aside from its peculiar color palette and unbelievable size, the creature seemed startlingly human.

The iciness in Pax’s body melted into something more electrifying, and his numb legs finally began to move. He took three wobbly steps back, ignoring the continuous flaring of pain in his ankle and the lack of air in his lungs. As humanoid as the creature seemed, Pax didn’t dare to draw its attention. He couldn’t imagine how painful a fate he would endure if those enormous hands closed around him instead of that thick notebook it had clutched between its fingers.

“What the hell,” escaped Pax through gritted teeth, and suddenly he found himself digging his own thin notebook from his nylon pocket. He elected not to grab his voice recorder, considering he didn’t want to speak too loudly and draw this giant’s attention. His (usually neglected) notebook would have to do.

His tense shoulders pressed into the rough, statue-like tree behind him, and he wobbly began to sketch out a description of the creature in front of him. He barely could tear his gaze away from it, and as his shaky hand flew over the paper he hoped he was doing the creature’s size justice. “What the hell,” he repeated.

This must be the native species of Planet X, then. Was its incredible size normal for this planet? Pax couldn’t deny that the towering trees above him seemed much less out of place next to another massive beast, as sickening as it was to realize.

Was Pax the outlier, then? Was he tiny?

He swallowed thickly, briefly glancing down at his notebook. A wobbly drawing scowled up at him, an embarrassing demonstration of his skills. He let out a frustrated breath, then snapped his green gaze back up to the giant. He watched, stomach freezing over, as the giant moved.

—

Lark twirled his pencil.

“You are just lovely, aren’t you?” he murmured, lavender gaze traveling over the tree in front of him. In a moment of fondness he reached forward, tracing a thin-fingered hand under the curve of a twisted branch. Several white leaves fluttered. “Beautiful.”

He had been studying botany for four years now, and his love for it had never subsided. His lab director– an elderly, funny woman who always seemed thrilled to see him– had sent him into a deeper part of the woods this morning to retrieve samples of the unique plants there. The gray, rock-like trees fascinated him. As dead as they appeared, the trees thrived, producing beautiful white leaves that fluttered when Lark’s pale finger touched them.

Gently, he plucked a white leaf from the branch, and with his free hand he dug into his satchel. A dozen small glass jars rattled within. As soon as he retrieved an empty one, just barely the length of his finger, he tucked the leaf inside. He hummed pleasantly. Just as Lark tucked the jar away into his satchel, a distant scratching sound drew his attention.

He paused, squinting his lavender eyes as he strained to listen. No other sounds disturbed this side of the forest; the lack of wind made sure of that. The trees were comparable to statues, and as far as Lark could tell, there were no other signs of life here. Had he just imagined it?

…No. Something was producing a faint, rushed, scraping noise.

Lark’s shoulders turned slowly towards where he suspected the noise to be coming from, and as his narrowed gaze scanned the white leaves around him, the scratching noise went silent. Curiosity piquing, Lark tilted his head, waiting– yet, the noise didn’t return. Perhaps he had only imagined it.

He shrugged, content to push the distraction aside. Hoisting his satchel further up onto his straightened shoulders, he focused on his journey forward.

A tiny yet distinct shriek stopped him in his tracks.

Lark had barely taken three steps. Chest tightening in surprise, he dropped his gaze to the forest floor and scanned for the source of the unexpected noise.

For a moment the colorless dirt offered no explanation— then, in a flash of movement, something scrambled away from the smooth curve of Lark’s boot.

“Oh!” Lark’s shoulders tightened, and he instinctively jerked back from the tiny creature. In such a still part of the forest, he hadn’t expected to see a living creature— especially not one so small or fast.

It moved in a white and silver blur, blending into the gray tones of the forest floor. Lark moved his shoulders, and his shadow completely enveloped the small creature.

He wasn’t inexperienced with small creatures, however, and on pure instinct he lifted his boot and scraped it down into the grayish dirt, directly in front of the creature’s path. Another distinct exclamation escaped it, but it couldn’t stop due to its momentum— and it skidded over the dirt directly into the side of Lark’s boot.

The creature collapsed, dazed. Lark paused, momentarily concerned that he had injured it, and he took his chance to gently kneel down. The thick material of his pant leg pressed into the dirt.

“Oh,” Lark said again, softer.

The bipedal creature stared up at him, dark eyes wide. A tiny chest heaved with quick breaths, while a pair of the tiniest hands Lark had ever seen dug into the dirt in a weak, useless effort to scramble away. It couldn’t seem to process that it was trying to escape, torso frozen, unable to tear its gaze away from Lark, who positively towered above it.

“You look like me,” Lark mused, almost to himself. His heart tugged a bit at the creature’s terrified reaction, and although it hurt, he understood. It didn’t seem to have any defense against someone as big as Lark.

Was it a he? Lark leaned closer, and the bone structure of the creature became more defined. A tan face and brown hair visibly trembled. Underneath its thick clothes and shiny gear, the creature seemed to be masculine, Lark assumed. He reached a gloved hand down, cautious of the way the creature yelped and jerked away, and gently brushed his finger against the skinny little arm. No natural defenses, it seemed.

“Here,” Lark murmured, and he scooped the creature up into his palm.

–

Pax couldn’t breathe.

Cold terror struck him, freezing his limbs to the forest floor. The monstrous being had knelt over him, unbelievably massive, blocking out the skylight with its towering shoulders and fluffy hair. Its sheer size sent all of Pax’s logical thoughts out the window.

He couldn’t seem to stop staring up and up and up, unable to tear his gaze away. A finger the size of his entire body had nudged at his arm, and his instincts went haywire, drawing a choked cry from his tight throat.

“Here,” the being murmured, and for a second Pax’s mushy thoughts cleared just enough to acknowledge that wait, he speaks Exian too–?

–yet, before Pax could process the implications of a shared language between them, an enormous gloved hand closed around him.

A yelp escaped Pax, sharp and panicked, but the hand didn’t relent. Five fingers, each one surpassing him in size, effortlessly scooped Pax into their overpowering grip. The smooth, leathery material was a harsh contrast to the gravel of the forest floor, and suddenly the juxtaposition brought all of Pax’s instincts rushing back. He thrashed.

The giant offered a soft “oh,” of surprise. Pax’s terror spilled over into his limbs, and he swung as hard as he could, punching and scratching at the gloved fingers. Devastation washed over him as the fingers only tightened, pressing his shaky limbs into his torso. Pax’s racing heart jumped directly into his throat.

“It’s okay,” the giant said, almost apologetically, the way one would speak to an animal. “I’m not gonna hurt you. It’s okay–”

“No!”

Pax finally choked out a single word, voice breaking, and while the giant jerked back in surprise Pax fell into breathless pleas.

“Don’t hurt– don’t hurt me, please, just let me go, please, please–!”

He broke off into terrified breaths, blinking hard as tears threatened to spill over. He was appalled that he hadn’t actually started crying yet; perhaps the sheer panic that had overtaken his body had prevented it. Now, as the giant stared down at him through wide lavender eyes, the water in Pax’s vision grew more prominent.

A beat of silence passed. Pax’s throat tightened.

“You–” the giant hesitated, his pale face processing Pax’s words, and in a surge of surprise his gloved fingers snapped open. Pax yelped in surprise as the grip around him subsided, and he crumpled in the center of the giant’s open palm. His heart pounded. “You speak Exian.”

Pax let out a shuddering, terrified sob, and he instinctively jerked back at the giant’s words, staring up at him. Light framed the giant’s head in a halo. “Wh-what?”

There was nothing stopping the giant from flattening Pax completely, or shoving him into the pocket of its lab coat, or tossing him down to the forest floor below. Pax’s imagination seemed particularly creative today, offering scenario after scenario of the different ways this giant could end him.

This giant could do anything to him. Pax choked on his breath.

“Oh,” the giant said, voice flickering into something concerned. “Oh, please don’t cry.”

His voice completely overpowered Pax, despite how soft it was. Pax scrunched his eyes shut, whipping his face away, preparing for the inevitable.

Another beat of silence passed. Pax was, inexplicably, not killed instantly.

“Here,” the giant said, hushed, and suddenly something pressed into Pax’s arm. The explorer yelped in surprise, eyes snapping open, only to see an enormous, gloved finger rubbing at his shoulder.

“Don’t—!” Pax jerked away, heart racing, and the giant stiffened.

“I’m sorry,” the giant said quickly. Pax whimpered.

The large finger retreated, and as those lavender eyes flickered with hesitance, Pax took a moment to try and calm his breathing. He scrubbed furiously at his eyes, drawing his knees towards his chest, and desperately tried to ignore the fact that he was currently being held at the mercy of a giant.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the giant assured, worry lacing his tone. Pax couldn’t bear to look at him. “I’ve never seen anyone like you before. You speak Exian? Where are you from?” His voice flickered with something brighter. “This is fascinating. Do you have a name?”

The sudden onslaught of questions made Pax jerk back, a mixture of anxiety and frustration. He swallowed thickly, unable to focus. “What?” The word came out more angry than Pax intended, and he shuddered, dragging a shaky glove over his dirty face. “I’m sorry. I— I’m sorry. Just— just— please put me down.”

His thoughts were a jumbled mess. He couldn’t even attempt to think straight while sitting in this giant’s palm.

The giant tilted his head, apprehension crossing his pale face, and panic tugged at Pax's chest.

“Will you run away?” The giant asked, worried. Pax lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “I want to know more about you.”

Pax drew his bottom lip between his teeth. Did this giant actually think Pax would be able to run away from him? He held all the power between them— that was obvious, right?

Weakly, Pax shook his head. “No. I just— I just wanna be put down.”

Lavender eyes blinked. “Sorry,” the giant mumbled, suddenly seeming to understand that he was holding Pax captive, and he lowered his hand to the forest floor.

Pax scrambled off the gloved hand before he could think. He let out a choked breath as he crumbled onto the gray dirt, knees digging into the gravel, comfortingly cold and still. “Oh, god.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m…” Pax took several shuddering breaths, then stared up, chest tight.

The giant’s face was… surprisingly soft, gazing down at Pax. His expression held only concern, traced in an innocent curiosity. Nothing malicious.

Pax blinked several times, drawing in a deep breath. The skylight framing the giant’s face reminded him briefly of a halo.

“I’m okay,” Pax said, hoarsely, and the lavender eyes flickered in relief. “I’m… I’m Pax.”

The giant’s eyebrows knit together, curious. “Pax?”

“That’s my name.”

“Oh!” The giant understood. Pax watched, heart warming, as the giant’s feathers brightened. He couldn’t deny that the giant’s fascination with him was cute, despite being a little anxiety-inducing. “Oh, lovely. Pax. My name is Lark.”

The giant— Lark— shifted, providing Pax with a bit more space, and the explorer only jerked slightly in surprise. “I’m a botanist,” Lark explained, dropping his large hand into his even larger satchel. As he rummaged through what sounded like glass, he continued, “I’m studying these trees.”

He presented an enormous glass jar to Pax, and the explorer tried to hide his flinch. Icy anxiety flickered through his chest, and he tried to ignore the terrifying idea of Lark snatching him up and shoving him into the jar.

Within seconds, however, Pax processed that the jar was filled with a single white leaf. Lark beamed as he addressed the jar, falling into a ramble about the leaf’s pigmentation, and Park’s heart fluttered.

Lark didn’t seem intent on trapping Pax at all.

He seemed… kind, Pax thought.

“Are you from this planet?” Pax asked in a moment of quiet, voice wobbling, and Lark tilted his head.

“Yes— are you not?”

“Well, no,” Pax responded as he gestured to himself, trying very hard not to add, obviously. “I’m exploring. This is the third planet I’ve arrived to on this side of the asteroid belt, but, um— I’m usually not so small here.”

“You’re an explorer?” Lark repeated, voice bright with fascination. He leaned closer, fluffy hair falling in strands over his eyes, and as he haphazardly shoved it away Pax couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh. “How wonderful! Where is your home planet? Did you come here on a ship? How long have you been here?”

Pax relaxed his shoulders, heart warm, and he beamed up at the giant. He couldn’t deny the curiosity that they both shared. As terrifying as Lark had seemed at first, he clearly wasn’t intent on hurting Pax. His enthusiasm was honestly adorable.

“Do you want to sit down?” Pax offered, gesturing the giant closer, and Lark beamed. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

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minim0t · 20 days ago

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The Star

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minim0t · 20 days ago

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Vivarium

Trapped.

Like some animal.

A dirty thing, undivine. Unconnected to anything.

The fake world spreads out under his feet, soft white sand pure of dirt or broken shells, shining, hollow plants that form a spotty, unnatural canopy. And the walls. Four glass walls on every side of him, flat, impenetrable panes that look out onto the human’s endless “living room”. It's empty. The humans that had put him in this glass box are gone, but that's a cold comfort. Where did they go? What are they doing? What are they going to do to him? Milo cannot hold himself up any longer, not without anyone watching, and collapses to sit upon the unnatural sand.

God, his breathing. He needs to… stop doing that. Milo clutches his head, hot and heavy in his hands, and sucks in deep, strained breaths that whistle through his throat and hollow chest. It doesn't help him, but the black spots popping in front of his eyes fade.

Trapped. Didn't you say you'd never let it happen to you?

Milo snarls sharply against the voice that needles his mind.

“Shut up fucker,” He groans, curling his body to better hold his aching head. They'll be back, the humans. Jac, who Milo thought he had a handle on- who he thought he had a handle on, God dammit, he will be back and he'll bring his friend. The one with the bag that strained under the weight of her shiny-black machines. The one who was listening for his voices and his tricks. The one who found him while he was distracted, stupidly distracted you never let your guard down when you're out here nevernever- she was not as slow as Jac, and she was far more discerning.

Whatever they'd expected to find in the walls, it wasn't Milo.

This is what they wanted for you. The voice insists, prodding with sharp claws into his thoughts. They knew your fate when they threw you out-

“Stop.” Milo hisses.

They knew that you are too stupid and weak and impatient to survive. They knew you'd be caught, loudmouth sleepless wreck-

“I'm better than those lifeless, joyless old sprites.”

Better to become someone's pet?

Milo’s stomach lurches, his jaw flexing. The words fill up his mind, crowd out all other thoughts with it's dark weight. He swallows back bile and stands to lurch along the edges of the glass box, stumbling over the chalky sand, running his desperate fingers along the impossible walls, looking for a gap, a crack, something he can widen and slip through. The four walls are perfect, solid planes of evenly thick glass, too smooth to scale, without so much as a scratch or dent on one. The bent corners are welded as if by fire, melted into one piece without a gap big enough for Milo's fingers to slip through. It seems made to hold him. Or things like him

Little pets.

Panic burns like white fire over him. He can't be trapped. Not him. Him.

Stars, please. What can he do? Once, he could have flown up to the mesh metal grate over him and lifted it off. Once, he could have blown this box into shattered pieces of molten crystal. Once, he could have needled his way into Jac's mind and made him lock himself in a glass box!

That was taken from him with his wings. With everything else. He's beyond helpless now.

Beyond worthless. You can't even help yourself.

He can't make any plans, he doesn't know what's going to happen. What do they want? They'll be able to make money off of him, he knows it. Or maybe they'll just kill him.

Milo grits his sharp teeth against the thought. He will not be dying to any hands but his own, he won't be their pet. He has to do something. He has to be able to do something. He can trick them, offer them a deal and double cross them somehow, but he has no time. He senses vibrations, below his hearing, rumbling deep within his inner ear. They are returning in their shining black-metal chariot, heavy body crushing small stones as it creeps closer to Jac's house. Milo swallows, taking his fishing hook in hand, steadied slightly by the meagre protection it provides.

Whatever happens, he will remain himself.

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minim0t · 20 days ago

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a conversation held aboard the Maelstrom

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minim0t · 20 days ago

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Footpaths, Parallel ( 948 words)

You thought it was the wind, when you heard it at first. Until the vast, incomprehensible swirling of air, shaking every leaf to shush against each other solidified into a pattern. You listen as you walk down a narrow sandy path in these vast woods. For short stretches of time you shut your eyes, so at peace are you with the sun laying a beam across your nose, the sound of the shushing leaves and the birds’ conversation. You listen to the pattern, growing stronger, so consistent and strange. What could it be, you wonder, pausing to move a caterpillar off the pathway. A nearby industrial project? The distant dregs of a drumbeat? A thunderhead booming an even staccato? It sounds like none and all of these things.

You have walked these woods many times, though it has been years since you've been back. Still, you know it well, and you are unafraid of the staccato- whatever it may be.

You are unafraid, in your woods, walking down your path. Until the pattern is growing louder, or maybe closer, and something in the back of your head kicks up, sending nauseous chills down your shoulders. The sound pulls away from the din of the forest, now louder than the shushing and the birds. A distant drum, thunder, the din of construction all coalesce into a noise completely familiar, alien only in that it is amplified to a horrible degree.

Footsteps.

It is a ridiculous notion. Nothing could be that big. Least of all something with a human gait. One-two. Repeat. It is not possible. It isn't, but it is getting closer all the same. Close enough now that you can hear, frozen where you stand, shrubs and trees creaking and snapping under an immense weight, birds taking off in shrieking flight, fleeing what you cannot see.

You stare, wild-eyed in the direction of the impossible footsteps. With nothing but your thin set of clothes, you can't flee into the safer darkness of the woods, you'd be dead in a night if you lost the path. The only way to run is straight out in the open, lit up in dappled sun. Whatever is coming will see you.

By the time you are searching, frantic, for a hiding spot, you can see trees deeper in the woods shaking and bending like tall grasses to part for something that seems too large to be able to move. That is all you see of the creature before you are diving into a thorny brush and curling into the smallest shape you can, wrapping your arms tight around yourself and trying to take tiny, even breaths, as though the colossal monster crashing through the woods would ever be able to detect your breathing. You don't manage to shut your eyes before they catch on the creature, what you can see of it from the brush

Boots of creased leather, larger than a wealthy man’s front room, pass into your view, crushing shrubbery identical to yours beneath it. You hold very still, breathing forgotten. The giant- what else could this creature be, doesn't pause its steady motions, the front-room-boot lifts, scuffs against an oak, and raises its shadow over you.

You bolt for the deep woods.You'd rather die of exposure tonight than be crushed beneath a giant’s boot now. What must be hundreds of feet above your head, a sound echoes slow like rolling thunder.

“Oh!”

You don't make it to the forest.

There is darkness, sudden and total, and you hit a hot, damp wall. When you reach out to touch it your fingers dip into whorls and ridges. Fingerprints. You lurch away and hit another wall, it is so dark, so warm and humid. Sound is rolling over you like thunder pounding against your ears already ringing with blood.

You scream then, piercing and horrid, you scream for help, anyone, please anyone! And above you like a great ocean wave over a sharp stone:

“Shh!”

Your scream cuts off when the hands enclosing you open like the petals of a flower and reveal the dappled blue sky between the glimmering leaves. A face peeks into view, high, high overhead.

You feel quite faint all of a sudden. You open your mouth to scream again and instead fall onto your ass on the hard forest floor, faintly dizzy as you stare up at the creature that has you cupped in its hand like a child with a bug.

The face leans down, the creature crouching inelegantly over their hands to peer at you.

“Oh, fate.” They say, thunder-loud voice making your hands shoot up to your ears. You see the face above you wince, so large and close that expressions are impossible to miss. “I'm sorry, traveler. Did I hurt you?”

The shock of their words is enough to drop your hands into your lap. You can only stare blankly at their question. Unsatisfied with the lack of an answer, a massive finger splits from the hand, hovering over you as if to check you for injuries, and you flinch away, hitting another fleshy wall.

“No!” You shout fearfully, shoulders hiked up. “No! I'm not hurt! Please don't- please don't hurt me!”

The hands around you relax, giving you a little more space and fresh air.

“I won't. You're safe. We didn't know there was a settlement out here, or I would've kept away.”

You can only stare.

“What…?”

What settlement? It's just you and a few others out here. And who is we?

“I just have a few survey questions, if you don't mind and then I'll be on my way.”

“What??”

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