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sir-fenris · 11 days ago

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Heeey <3. I read this a couple of days ago, but I started feeling bad again, so I had to put the phone down before I could make the commentary of this chapter.

I'm a little late, I know there's other chapters by now, but one at a time and I'll read/comment them all :D

The real reason for his inclusion was that their schedules had worked out, and Lorelai had been close, and she missed him. She’d been straddling his lap, resting her chin on top of his head, and had felt such an overwhelming mix of love and nostalgia that she could hardly see through it. In the transport, he had clung to her too tightly, and she knew the feeling was mutual.

AAAA I love them so much. Please don't ever separate them for good, I would die if they never saw each other again.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. Put it down. Drop it. Friendly fire.”

It didn’t feel very friendly. She was still at the back of the cavern; the both of them were the furthest from the action, at least on this side. When the approaching figures became visible, it was immediately clear they weren’t imperial. Friendly fire. Some allied sect, another rebel group. Pissed off, but not hostile. They’d scared each other. That was all.

Paris was dead silent behind her, not moving a muscle, nor having even gotten off the floor.

First: Yeah, it really didn't feel very friendly.

Second: Idk why, but I just loved this so, so much. The vibe and the scene building, I just... this was good. I give this a golden star 🌟.

Third: I am never surprised, but always exasperated to be reminded how SHIT Paris's survival instincts are. Like? Mate? You really just don't fucking care if you die.

Out on the rooftop, in the summer sun, he took his recess out on the railing, one hundred stories up. One of the warrior-poets followed him. Paris wondered if he would be so bold.

But he wasn’t. The rebel leaned two folded arms onto the railing instead, gazing out into the same day-glo cityscape.

What did I just say? Paris doesn't even flirt with death, he just outright stares at it and dares it to come get him.

“Mars,” he answered dryly. “No surname.”

Because it was fake, most of them were, but whatever. Paris would forget the whole exchange soon enough.

This really reminded me of Delta and Kali giving each other fake home planets.

And also, "Paris would forget the whole exchange soon enough"...... hmmm, I guess not, eh 😬...

“You motherfuckers are hard to get ahold of. Do they only send people they don’t care about getting back?” he asked.

Paris. Fucking Christ. How were you not killed before. MY GOD YOU'RE SUCH A SHITTY DIPLOMAT.

Approximately three years later, the same kid was standing over him with a rifle. Paris still hadn’t moved, and didn’t intend to until he was forced. Which he would be. He knew this.

Well fucking fuck. My jaw dropped.

“What was all that shit you were talking? That you were going to kill me? Kill all of us? Yeah? What happened to that? You wanna try it now?”

Hey- come on, man, that was just a joke. Paris was kidding, no need to be so resentful. That was years ago, and you were talking to an out-of-his-mind overworked prince, get over it.

(Fucking christ, Paris, you make things so hard on yourself, my Limbo gods....)

The muzzle of the gun tapped him in the temple. Paris flinched. With that one stand of memory coming undone, all the others started to unspool in tandem. There was a painful tightness in his chest, the same ache in his hands. Calloused. Kneeling in the dirt. Dig.

OUCH. Oh my fucking god. 🌟. Loved this. Love trauma reactions. I drank this up and it hydrated me for the whole week.

It was a mercy that they didn’t let him wonder long. Lorelai listened, at least. Her gun fell away, as did the others, until the only one remaining was the one pointing at him. Mars kicked him in the side to get him to rouse. Unnecessary. (In the back of his mind, Paris knew he had no right to complain about this. He’d done the exact same action to Delta more times than he could count, and for pettier reasons.)

Oh, hi Delta :D good to see tou haunting the narrative, as always.

And also... augh. Drinking this up. I felt myself getting 5 years of life back from this. Kicking and screaming in delight. 🌟.

“Oh, whatever,” she said. She dropped the gun onto the ground, extended both wrists out to be shackled. “All you people know how to do is throw your weight around. This is why no one can stand you.”

She was lying. She’d liked Galatea up until this moment. Something deadened in her eyes with disillusionment. For some reason, this was what Paris wished he could take away from her. She didn’t need to get bitter. Nothing had really been breached. He deserved it.

Okay. Two things.

First. Lorelai and Paris will forever be the death of me, oh my fucking god they're soul mates. AAAAAA. And Lori is so good at eating others's heads off, I love it.

Second. I think I just completely forgot this was happening under Galatea umbrella. My brain went blue screen for a few seconds. They're both SO CLOSE to Delta. Like. Oh fuck.

I lied, there's a third.

Third. Paris feeling bad because Lorelai could disappointed and- and- I'm sick and I can't find the words, but I love them so fucking much. Omg. My heart literally hurts.

“Call Vi,” Lorelai told one of the scouts. “We’re not getting disappeared, get in touch. Get through to Galatea’s lawyers if you can, because this isn’t even legal by their own statute.”

To his surprise, this caused a wave of discomfort to be passed around between them. Real hesitation. It wasn’t like they could back out now though, with him already in chains, with hers being fastened on. She might have had a case for herself. He wouldn’t deny her that. But as Mars shoved him forward, as he fixed a grip on the back of his fucking neck, Paris could not even bring himself to hope. Everyone there knew damn well that he had no recourse.

I kicked in excitement so hard I think I might have dislocated something on my legs. Gosh, I love Lorelai so fucking much. Such a fucking aura, so- AAAAAA. Fangirling for her.

I hope you all get in trouble because of this, you assholes. You better be uncomfortable and second-thought your actions.

And Paria thoughts at the end 😣 the way he is just so so so resigned during all this, like? So hopeless and tame and- and- I'll combust.

Loved it.

------

Loved it loved it loved it loved it loved it loved it-

This also deserves a super like, super kudos, super heart of "I really liked this"

I know there's more to be read, but I am functioning at a very low energy lately. It sucks, and I hate how hard it is to find energy to do stuff, but I'll get to the next chapters soon <3 I'm excited for them.

I really really loved this chapter. And im SO FUCKING EXICTED. Like, wdym Destroyer II???? We got there already??? I blinked and we're here???

Thank you for sharing this story with us <3 it has a really special place in my heart. Love to read it. Hope you're alright too.

Hopefully I'll be back soon :D

Destroyer (Vol. II)

hi :)

this takes place about three years after The End

welcome back

(Content: royal whump, military whump, past trauma, humiliation, dehumanization, beating, guns, drugs, pistol whipping, whumper turned whumpee, guilt, capture)

It was a special occasion now whenever they got to spend a few days together. Lorelai shot for a special occasion whenever she could. She was the one who needed to work for it. Paris was almost always free. They weren’t attached at the hip anymore, not like they used to be — which only made them more insufferable when they did see each other. It was a struggle just to get her to keep her goddamn fingers out of his mouth.

The reason for his inclusion had been to rig the new system. The wanted to rewire the comms and use the sonar to image the unseen depths of the cave’s architecture. CTRL wanted sonic weapons sleeping dormant. They were going to make Paris do it for them, because he’d offered, because he owed them, and because the radio engineering had become some kind of special interest of his.

The grip on both of them had let up by the time they’d had to actually walk. The crystal caverns were a sprawling system of roots within the Earth. It had been an imperial outpost — and now, decidedly, was not. Paris would never go anywhere close to the border. He never even went off planet by himself, too scared of stalking, and of routine traffic stops. This was just for maintenance. It was supposed to be safe.

“Can you focus?” One of the agents called to her, quite derisively, as she was in the middle of tracing shapes into the scar of his palm. They’d said something to her. They’d probably been trying to get her attention for a while.

“On what?” She squinted.

She got no good answer.

The place they eventually stopped at was right by the pool of moon water. It marked the transition point where each lower level was flooded. The water was still on the surface, but not stagnant. Little wind currents still pushed themselves through from the surface.

While the others busied themselves with the others comings and goings, the surfeit of labor that went into simply maintaining the checkpoint, she worked with him to unspool the cables.

Paris’s jacket hung loosely off him, the sleeve ends bunched up slightly to free his fingers. He kept trying to talk to her, only to get distracted again, so focused on the task that he became blind to everything else. For so long, that state of absorbed concentration was the only time she ever saw him anywhere close to calm. That wasn’t necessarily true anymore. These days, it seemed easier for him to reach.

“They want to move me somewhere less violent,” she said. “Maybe law. But probably diplomacy. I don’t think defectors become good diplomats.”

He messed with the signal transformer in his lap, not looking up at her. His hair had mostly faded back to blonde at this point, with only the softest tinge of pink remaining.

“I’ve only heard of the opposite happening,” he paused. “I still think you should just take whatever bullshit bureaucratic job they give you. Not even for your sake, I mean. Not even to get out of the trenches.”

He lowered his voice.

“They don’t have any fucking upper organization. They’re probably hurting for someone who actually knows how to take care of it. You’d be good.”

“I don’t want that at all. You wouldn’t do it,” she said.

Lorelai was still young, and her nervous system was broken. She had an adrenaline deficit. If she didn’t feel critical, if she didn’t feel like her life was in danger, she couldn’t be happy. She knew that inevitably this would crash down on her and fall apart. She’d have to wean off. But she had a lot of good years left before then.

Paris shrugged. He said, “I might now.”

That wasn’t much different from what he did for them, anyway. Besides the radio per project, his main role was as consultant. He’d been an informant while it lasted, and he’d done it so well and so throughly that he’d ran out of things to tell them.

“I missed you,” she said, totally shameless.

He did look up at her then. A pink blush had flooded his face as his mouth quirked into a crooked half-smile.

At about the same time, the commotion that had begun in one of the adjoining tunnels was making itself known to their chamber.

Lorelai spun abruptly. The rifle was in her hands so fast it might as well have just materialized there. Still pointed down, nothing she yet intended to destroy, not before she could even make out what was going on. The orders came before any clarity, but she still obeyed.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. Put it down. Drop it. Friendly fire.”

The rifle slid back onto her waist, and she found she wasn’t happy about it. She had to position her hands carefully, not total surrender, but clear enough that she wasn’t going to reach for it again.

Paris was dead silent behind her, not moving a muscle, nor having even gotten off the floor.

A little over three years ago, there had been a parley.

Paris wore the crown to annoy them, and he could feel a glistening hatred beneath the surface of their skins. This was how it appeared to him in the throes of the meth binge, where the early stages of psychosis appeared to him as a shimmering light. Paris broke again and again, and each time he shifted back into shape, the pieces were stronger but always healing wrong.

Rebel scum, one of his advisors muttered in his ear, and he couldn’t stifle the laugh. All the nationalism just struck him as charmingly old fashioned. He had no more love for Galatea than he did for anyone else, but at the time of the meeting he couldn’t bring himself to hatred either. He was in the afterglow. It felt like a game.

Out on the rooftop, in the summer sun, he took his recess out on the railing, one hundred stories up. One of the warrior-poets followed him. Paris wondered if he would be so bold.

But he wasn’t. The rebel leaned two folded arms onto the railing instead, gazing out into the same day-glo cityscape.

“Can I bum a cig?” he asked. Dark hair covered part of his eyes. There was a loose and light chain around his neck, carrying some symbol Paris didn’t recognize, but figured was some kind of Dionysian cult. But maybe he was projecting.

“Mhm,” Paris nodded, humoring him. “What’d you say your name was again?”

“Mars,” he answered dryly. “No surname.”

Because it was fake, most of them were, but whatever. Paris would forget the whole exchange soon enough.

“You motherfuckers are hard to get ahold of. Do they only send people they don’t care about getting back?” he asked.

Mars gave him a withering look, to no avail. He didn’t have any rebuttal, which probably meant it was true. The thought entertained Paris, in a cosmic kind of way

“Is that a threat?” Mars settled on. It was hard to tell from his face whether he was amused or disgusted. For that alone, Paris felt an immediate sense of kinship with him.

“A threat? I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to shoot you after this, Mars.” Paris winked. He’d meant it as a joke, but even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t funny. Should’ve just kept his fucking mouth shut.

Approximately three years later, the same kid was standing over him with a rifle. Paris still hadn’t moved, and didn’t intend to until he was forced. Which he would be. He knew this.

There had been a span of fifteen seconds after their arrival that he thought he might get lucky again. That he might just get overlooked if he was still and quiet enough. That he wouldn’t have been recognized. The fact that Paris had even remembered that exchange struck him as atypical. He hoped he’d have been alone in that. But Mars had gotten a rare good look at him throughout that whole meeting. Of course he would remember his face. There’d been no delay.

“What was all that shit you were talking? That you were going to kill me? Kill all of us? Yeah? What happened to that? You wanna try it now?”

“What the fuck-“ Mars said, “-are you all doing harboring imperials? Harboring him?”

Lorelai’s own hands were twitching. She was the one to be kept from violence now. Some psychopathic hunter hadn’t burned her out on it the way she’d burnt out Paris.

When she opened her mouth to speak, it dawned on him with awful clarity that she was likely the only person that could answer. She was the one who’d hammered out the deal, after all.

“…He’s our prisoner,” she said slowly. “Finders keepers. You don’t have any more of a right to him than we do. So you’d better stop pointing that fucking gun at him.”

Her voice rose dangerously, and everyone in the cavern tensed.

Paris couldn’t look up. Instead, he was left to imagine what Mars’ expression must have been as he elected to slam the ramrod directly into his face.

Colors flashed in front of his eyes. It was far from the hardest he’d ever been hit; it hadn’t even broken anything. Yet for the first time in his life, he understood the meaning of seeing stars. He did. Or maybe it was just the algae glowing upon the cave walls.

He reeled, in either case. It’d drawn a shocked, pained gasp from him. He reflexively clutched at his mouth, which didn’t do anything for the blood on his lips. Lorelai had drawn the gun now, and suddenly there were tons of them. A single one of them pointed in her direction was too much.

“It’s fine,” Paris said quickly. The pain and the blood slurred his words some, but he was still intelligible. “It’s fucking - it’s fine. Calm down.”

He didn’t even know what to offer, nor who he was reassuring, nor what he planned to prevent. Were they just going to shoot him right here? That could be the kindest. He felt the panic swell up in him again as the possibilities swam through his mind. On sleepless nights, he thought of nothing but possibilities. He could get real creative.

“Get up.”

He did. Slow enough not to be alarming, but quick enough that he couldn’t be accused of stalling. An odd sense of humiliation came over him; he was surprised at how powerfully it shined through, in comparison to all the other strange and more important sensations. He felt like he was slipping out of time. The last time this had happened, he’d felt the same panicked shame, but there’d been no one around to witness but the assailants. That happened here too — but now Lorelai was watching, and the others from CTRL. This was worse, he decided.

He didn’t even fight as the cuffs went on. His own passivity in the face of it would later puzzle him whenever he played it back in his mind. It had to have been the shock. Or maybe he’d just been smart, for once in his fucking life. Or — most likely — the years of domestication had changed him into something that tried for dignity before survival. He’d forgotten how to maul.

The sword was taken from his waist, which triggered a sudden jolt of hurt from him that he hadn’t expected. This was actually happening. This was actually fucking happening and it was happening quickly and he wouldn’t get to say goodbye.

“…Bye, Lorry.”

Best he could do on short notice. It was spoken too calmly, too cute, and he knew they hadn’t liked it. Should’ve just kept his fucking mouth shut. Too late, again.

“No. Her too.” Mars ordered.

“Me too?” Lorelai’s eyebrows raised. “Are you serious? What did I do?”

“Because you are an enabler, and no one else is stepping up, so you’re responsible for this whole mess anyway.”

Paris had been right about the upper organization, for the record. He’d never put that much faith in the immunity they’d offered in the first place. But even at its word, it had been against Empire. There’d been no talk about what would happen if he landed in with other rebel groups. He hadn’t had the gall to ask about it. Besides, what an unlikely thing to happen.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @floral-comet-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner

@bacillusinfection @ichortwine @whump-queen @lumpywhump

@jumpywhumpywriter @sir-fenris

#Destroyer's universe #DESTROYER IS HERE HEHEHE #Destroyer's universe: comments

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sir-fenris · 25 days ago

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Oh how I missed commentary time <33

Feeling okay enough today to write a little bit, so I'm making use of it :D

(Same warnings as the chapter below)

Delta entered her name into the tablet the second it was out of her mouth, but what it returned was diminished and disappointing. This was the advantage of the nondescript mononym. Delta understood. He’d used the same tactics to preserve his own anonymity, to let himself remain faceless. He had averted all requests for a surname so far. He’d been offered a few and had refused them every time.

She is kinda alike Delta? There's not many people that choose to remain completely faceless and untraceable.

Hi Kali :).

"This is Delta. He’s taking notes. Say hi, Delta.”

Delta raised two fingers off from the tablet in a weak salute, a kind of bare bones acknowledgment.

First, Levon saying "say hi, delta" made me chuckle. Second, Delta not even actually saying hi, just acknowledging her with two raised fingers is also so- I love them.

There was also the issue of the angel. From across several fires, on the edge of the camp, both Kali and the angel that followed her were visible beneath the night sky.

Kali was a pure silhouette, all her color seeming to fade into shadow as she danced. The angel melted just the same. Its form disappeared against the night sky, because its skin itself held the same pattern of deep blue, all dotted with stars. It dripped like liquid, unlike her. It had spilled some of the cosmos onto the sleeve of Delta’s shirt.

😯 cool design. A cosmic angel following her around?

DELTA: this is a monitored line

KALI: so?

This talk is really good XD, made me laugh.

“She asked me out,” Delta said, sliding his fingers back along the track to reverse the series. He went to work solving it again. He focused on the work, because to focus on the words seemed impossible.

He’d expected derision. He’d expected Levon to laugh it off, tell him it was a bad idea, so that Delta might be relieved of the responsibility of choice. This was frequently the only reason Delta volunteered personal information.

Hm... Idk if I feel sad or... idk, to the fact he usually just volunteers personal stuff if it is to use someone else's advice to push the responsibility of choosing off his plate.

Guess not sad. Thoughtful? Idk. This is an interesting thing a lot of us do, even unconsciously, for many reasons. Makes sense for Delta to pull someone else into the decision making of something he doesn't feel secure of choosing by himself, but the way it was worded pulled a string in me. Hmm...

“For you,” he said as he held the flowers out, not caring about the blush that rose over his face. He’d meant for it to be anachronistic, some facsimile of romance. He worried now that she would not understand the irony of the gesture, and was now self-conscious about the fact he’d thought to do it ironically at all. He was an asshole. Why had he done that?

🫠 awww...

She was lying, and he couldn’t have told her the truth if he wanted to.

Interesting them both knowing the other is lying and agreeing to stay in the lie without bringing it up. Interesting too that it is worded that way <33. "She was lying" being merely a statement followed by a "and he would do the same, and he does the same" lime. Both of the same, in a way.

“Do you like your job?” she asked him.

I owe Galatea everything and I would die for it a million times over.

😶. Well, that hit. Delta, you know that it doesn't answer the question, right? Doing something out of the self obligation to repay something you didn't think you deserved to reveive... doesn't mean you like doing it. You don't have to like doing it. You don't have to do it at all.

Baby 🥹...

“They must trust you a lot,” Kali said on the walk back.

Delta felt his heart sink like an anchor, the a cool dread rushing over him. The sting of humiliation was the only thing that gave his body heat now, and even that was a paralyzing kind, penetrating from the surface without substance. His eye twitched.

Oh. :(((

There was this black hole at the center of everything. He thought one day it might swallow him whole, all his memories, all the pain and guilt and toil. Or maybe it had already. Just as soon as he was born. Maybe the whirlpool was always meant for him.

Hey. Hey. Beautiful. Painful.

The question was a formality. She slotted into him, leaning her body back against his own. Her skull bumped his nose for a second before her head settled down closer to his shoulder. Jasmine. She was closer now, without warning. Some vestigial instinct lended itself as he moved to almost steady her within the grasp. He’d been on dates and he’d been in emergencies, and all it felt like with her was the latter, all the time. Still, he found himself pressing his own lips by the crown of her head. Not a kiss, exactly. There wasn’t any delicacy to it. It was nuzzling. Contact for contact’s sake.

STOP PLAYING WITH MY FEELING. This place is an emotional rollercoaster, aaaaaaaaa-

He could kill her. If he wanted to, he could carve a hole straight through the hull within milliseconds, and kill the both of them. No one could trap him anymore. It was all just play.

Kali’s hand ran back through his hair, gently, without tugging.

“You can hurt me,” he said. Not shyly. Without any self-consciousness. More like a fact than a request.

I'll combust.

“I really like you,” he confessed.

Kali grinned wider, cooing a little, like this was the cutest thing she’d ever heard.

BECAUSE IT IS 😭

Back at Galatea — the base known as Galatea — one of them — Delta bred reptiles and harvested venom from their myriad fangs. He tended to the bio-pool and to the wet lab. Substrate changes. He measured the growth of the marine plants and the weight of the octopus. Hauling the gallons up by hand, though it was painful, because he wasn’t supposed to rely so much on his powers. Some of this was of scientific value, though nobody knew how much yet. Some of it seemed to just be for fucking around. He liked the lab. It was good for him to take care of something.

Ooohhh, this is cool 😯😯

“Do you think about what comes after this?” he tried instead. He knew Kitty’s backstory well enough. Kicked out, year long nervous breakdown, no friends, no job. Scooped up out of the gutter. She hadn’t had anywhere else to go. And where would she go when it was over?

Kitty's backstory crumbs?? 👀👀 always here for it...

“Everyone I love is here,” she answered. “This is what I like doing.”

“But if you could go anywhere else?”

“…I could go anywhere else. Now. But I don’t. Why, what are you thinking?”

It made him self conscious. He couldn’t look at her eyes for long after that.

Oh- wow. Oh. Ouch. Delta doesn't feel like he can go anywhere else :( Augh, this talk is- ✨️✨️✨️✨️.

“I just want to go home sometimes,” he confessed.

AAAUGGH 😭😣 my heart just broke... baby 🥺🥺...

What are you going to do when this is over?

What will I do once I can’t do this?

Will we still be friends?

MY. FUCKING. HEART.

“I love you too!” she said. He could still hear the <3 in her voice when she spoke sometimes. “You’re gonna be fine. We never lose. It’s impossible.”

I'm traumatized, don't say that, Kitty, please 😃, now I'll be paranoid thst everything will go wrong.

If he did it all right, maybe he could go back. The numbers would tick down, down, back to before he was keeping track, back to the first live target they’d ever set him on. Nobody had to die. And even further back, before he’d even been-

The fantasy grew too painful. He buried his forehead into his knees, curling up on the chair again.

I'm going to fucking die, this is going to fucking kill me, I'm- AAAAAAAAAAAAA. This is so good, so good, whumperflies and everything.

“You can dish it out, but you can’t take it,” he challenged. Delta was still bleeding like crazy; he sat up in spite of how dizzy it made him. He pushed them down into the mattress by the shoulders. When he kissed them, he bit again. A shade of pink clouded their otherwise pale and pristine visage. Strawberry moon, he thought to himself, right as the need turned painful.

This is an insane rollercoaster, my emotional state is- what? Augshajshja. What??? I blinked a few times in shock in this. Whaaat??? Oh wow. I didn't expect this :0.

In the dream, the tiger lowered itself into a crouch. It took on its many colors, stripes formed out of stars and contours, the invisible division of space. Made up of myriad parts, a soldier's uniform, the dying gleam of a crown. Looking at it made him feel as though he was seeing the absolute tatters of reality. It was smiling at him.

“You weren’t worth it,” he prayed to the thing that had never once cared for his opinion of it. More petulantly, he added, “You never even said thank you.”

I swear to god I'm the one going insane, do I even have a heart anymore? I just see broken little pieces on the ground, because OUCH. AAAAAAA.

“…Where are you from, really?”

“Empire,” he answered. He guessed he always knew.

He answered "earth", "nowhere", "here", until finally he answered "Empire". Well fuck. He is from Empire, in the end, right? Whatever came before was tainted with Empire, and so is everything that came after. He wasn't born in Empire, but was raised in it, and there isn't erasing it in any way possible.

“You’re a magician,” he insisted. “You just do tricks. There’s nothing real about you.”

😀 Delta? Mate, what?

He would wake up fully clothed in an empty bathtub. He’d wake up already kneeling. Sometimes he knew it was in prayer. Other times, he knew he’d been begging. The sleepwalking returned with a vengeance, so he shut himself up in the holding cell until it subsided. He tried new medicine. He tried starving, and sleeping all the time, and working himself so hard that he could think of nothing but numbers. He played chess in his head for a week straight, so consistently that nobody could hold more than a few words of conversation with him before he zoned out again. He drank juice from the carton.

I swear to all Limbo gods, I'll have to do the same after this chapter with the rate this is going.

Fucking- aaaaugh... Gods, this is so... I'm speechless, him trying so many stuff to keep the sleepwalking and thoughts away, I...

Playing chess non stop in his mind for a fucking week????? Like- AUGH. Alia.

Working himself until all the could think was numbers?? Starving???

Alia. Ouch.

He refreshed the page again. Nobody had seen Paris in a year. There was no breakthroughs in the case, no sign he would ever return. Probably dead in a ditch somewhere. Delta cried.

Don't speak to me, I'm curled up in the corner. I'm devastated.

The river dried up just as quickly as he smashed his laptop into the wall. It took everything in him not to trash his entire room. Lazarus was there. He didn’t want the tantrum to hurt him. Delta wanted to hurt someone, but he couldn’t decide who. It was hard here. Everyone was so nice.

🌟 <- golden star.

I was so caught up in this while reading that I winced like I fucking heard the laptop breaking.

Delta holding back because he didn't want to hurt Lazarus 😭😭 him not having a good target for his anger outburst because he doesn't want to hurt anyone that was so nice to him.

I'm sensitive, don't make me cry, my water bottle is empty and I can't dehydrate.

He’d had to buy a new laptop, and now he had to resist breaking it again so that he wouldn’t have to see her reply. He shut it quickly, pacing through the surrounding woods for three hours before he could bid himself return. Apollo fussed, brushing the leaves from his hair, forcing him to drink water. Delta submitted, the only natural thing to do. He opened the laptop again.

First you hit me with a nervous Delta confessing to the person he loves, then you hit me "submitting is the only natural thing to do". 😀. KSJIWIRIAKAJWHEUEUWUAJD.

Levon made him take the week off, on account of the fact that he was losing his fucking mind. Apollo let him stay in his parent’s house, and when he didn’t want to be there without him, he agreed to stay there too.

You're making me need more images, which I use when I'm out of words. You're making me out of words and out of pictures to express my feelings-

nodiving: im not doing anything im on break because everyone has said im insane basically and i dont feel insane but i dont know how im supposed to feel

I can feel how this was written by him in one go, faat typing. Oh, Delta 🥺

“Are you going to hurt me?” he asked. More than she already had, he meant.

↓ /p /j

“You think everyone’s out to get you.”

Something in him snapped.

“You don’t know what it was like for me,” he said. It sounded self-pitying even to him, but he’d spent enough years downplaying it that he felt entitled to the indulgence. And she doesn’t know. There was a hole inside of him nearly the size of his body. The constant ache. He thought that if anyone knew, for a second, just how lonely it had been, they would never be the same.

Well, fuck. Now you crushed the last remains of my heart with your shoes. Of course he thinks everyone is out to get him, that's his way to prepare for pain, to be able to defend against it.

And seeing from one's own view, it's hard not to believe, even a little, that one's hurt is unique and out of anyone else comprehension. That's why ill people mostly look for others in the same condition, to try and find comfort in knowing that their pain is shared.

But Delta was always alone, even in that sense. He doesn't see anyone else in the position he was, in any way, it's not easy to connect with the idea that someone may understand what he went through, what he feels.

It is a lonely and painful thought, but also comforting in it's own way, that perhaps if your pain is so immense that no one can understand, then maybe you can be excused from the heavy feeling of not belonging, then maybe you can feel like you're special, instead of just wrong.

Self-pitying is always from a really deeper place than we usually see it to be.

His hand moved up to his neck. Bare skin, the slightest scarring in the place where the collar had been. No collar.

No collar. No collar, Delta 🥺🫂 <3333

---

I'm destroyed. Wow, this was... I don't have anything else to say, loved it <3. Sorry for taking a little while to read. Always excited for more of your writing :D

Rubies

Intermission / KALI / First Love Late Spring

OKAY ITS DONE. this isnt at all what i normally write but i hope you like it anyway. um.

i thought this was going to be more nsfw but right now i think its mostly just suggestive, lot of making out but nothing that explicit. no outright age restriction just be advised.

(Content: implied past abuse, past captivity, living weapon whumpee, recovery, angst, self hatred, guns, minor psychosis, intrusive thoughts, self destructive behavior, suggestive language, implied/offscreen nsfw, some drugs)

They’d nearly shot her out of the sky. For a long time, Delta had thought this was the first he’d ever seen of her. As he got to know her better, he came to doubt it more and more.

Levon had her within the cross hairs of the rifle — some hefty, ungodly weapon which no one had any right to wield. The old army helmet had rested crooked over the tresses of black hair.

“We should probably know what it is, maybe, before we shoot it down.” Delta suggested.

“My finger’s not on the trigger, is it?” Levon responded, still watching through the scope. He muttered, quietly, “God, what is…”

His voice trailed off into the jungle. It was all oceanic heat, the mist rising up off the verdure. Dew formed along Delta’s skin in glistening droplets. Like vapor. Like steam.

In frantic arcs, one league above them, the steel bird flew.

When it crashed, it wasn’t close. The smoke trail cascaded down and disappeared within the tree canopy. He thought he could measure its trajectory with his eyes alone. He had practice with this. He knew where it might be. But the sensors picked it up without him ever needing to.

The vanguard went to recover it. Levon insisted on seeing it himself, his own curiosity overriding any sense of caution. Delta sat in the backseat of the off-roader. The tablet in his lap sparked and glowed as all the channels buzzed in their typical traffic. He’d turned the volume of the earpiece down, letting all the chatter fade into background noise.

Tell you when I know, he promised. Tell you when I can.

The craft had left a crater carved into the earth. The smoke still drifted off it in thick clouds, choking light. Dead on arrival? Surrounded on all sides.

It wasn’t an imperial model. Delta recognized this immediately. He had too good a sense for their aesthetics. This was not one of them.

When the pilot climbed out from the wreckage, all guns were trained on her anyway. Levon still had her in the crosshairs of the harpoon, the gun meant to pierce straight through metal hulls.

“Easy,” Levon urged, voice low and careful and wild. “State your business.”

“In peace!” She pleaded, smiling with her teeth. “In peace, we come in peace!”

Both hands raised up to the sky — then down again, back into the craft. For some reason, nobody shot her.

“Aaaah!” She cheered as she raised them up again.

This time, she held up a crystal the same size as her head. She looked up at it in sheer adoration. She was holding it up for them to see.

Kali.

“Kali,” she stated again, clearer, still grinning. Her eyes flickered over to Delta, like she wanted to be sure he’d actually got it.

“Levon,” the captain introduced himself in turn.

“I know who you are.”

Her eyes were practically sparkling now. Starstruck? He’d seen it happen a few times. That or picturing the kill. Delta only thought in absolutes when the tensions were high. He never fully calmed.

“Who’s this?” Kali asked. Her eyes were fully trained on Delta now. The shift in focus caused him to startle, though he knew it would not show on his expression. He looked back at her with a perfect neutrality, one that did not convey just how quickly his heart rate had picked up.

“This is Delta. He’s taking notes. Say hi, Delta.”

Delta raised two fingers off from the tablet in a weak salute, a kind of bare bones acknowledgment.

She was glowing, though. Her black hair tumbled down her back, coming up in geometric spirals at its ends. There were strands of gold and glitter mixed up between the locks. Glitter, too, on the side of her face and on the tips of her fingers. Sharp canines. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d stepped out of the craft. But when her eyes were on him, the grin seemed to grow a little wider.

“She’s doing alchemy,” Levon would say to him later. “Nice girl. I think she’s building a bomb.”

“It’s just science,” Delta answered, a little unenthusiastically. But he hadn’t been able to pry his eyes from the gemstone, either.

There was also the issue of the angel. From across several fires, on the edge of the camp, both Kali and the angel that followed her were visible beneath the night sky.

“Is it…her?” Delta asked, as in Is it her? Is it part of her or is it just a companion? He’d never seen anything else like it in his life.

Levon returned a half-drunken smile. He leaned in closer to his ear, issuing the warning with a hushed but eager giddiness.

“Avert thy mortal eyes.”

It was her that found him in daylight, though.

Delta had been digging furrows into the dirt, trying to better ground the antenna they were using to transmit. It needed to reach deeper into the earth, to stop overturning within the soft soil.

When she stood over him, she cast a shadow that blocked out the whole of the sun. All that was left of it was a halo about her dark head.

“What’s a nice boy like you doing on this side of the revolution?”

A glint of white teeth within the darkness. For a second, she was monstrous.

“…Trying to get reception,” he explained.

“Can I help?” she asked.

Without waiting for an answer, she knelt down in the dirt, letting the light wash over the both of them again. She took careful hold of his hands before the moved to coil the wires around them. She held them still, the electricity pulsing beneath them, creating a fire hazard. He sparked. He couldn’t help it.

The signal had been unbearably strong for a second.

DELTA: hes not in right now

KALI: actually, i called to talk to you!

DELTA: oh

DELTA: why

KALI: you were cute! i’m going to be back in town this week, i was hoping we could go out on a date.

DELTA: ….

DELTA: this is a monitored line

KALI: so?

DELTA: so this isnt really its function

DELTA: and thats not something im supposed to be discussing over it

KALI: you see my number, right?

DELTA: i do

KALI: you have your own phone?

DELTA: yes i would hope

KALI: well, you know where to find me

“I think you should go,” Levon said.

Delta looked up. Deep blue eyes, perpetually blank when he wanted them to be. He blinked, amazed the silence drew on without contradiction.

“I can’t take off work,” he stated plainly.

“Nobody’s forcing you to keep the hours that you do. The place won’t fall apart if you’re gone for a day.”

Delta doubted it.

“I think it’d be good for you,” Levon said, more cautiously, like he knew he was overstepping. “You liked her, didn’t you?”

“You told me to avert my mortal eyes.”

“Did I?” He winked. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

“What do girls like?” he asked Kitty.

Both of them laid flat on the floor of his room. She was still playing at her handheld, but Delta simply stared up into the abyss of the ceiling.

“Ummmm,” Kitty seemed to struggle with this. “Screens. Iced coffee. Small animals.”

He nodded in agreement, though he found this answer wanting.

“What do you think she would like?” Kitty asked instead.

Delta took a while to think about it. He said:

“Dead things. Something from the earth. Crystals. Bones.”

“Hot?” Kitty said.

“Do girls still like flowers?” he asked.

“I still like flowers. That’s a classic, you can’t go wrong.”

She helped him to pick them out, though it seemed like neither of them had any real leg up on the other. Delta tactfully avoided the inclusion of roses.

He’d been standing out on the pier in the late afternoon. The sky was still bright then, even as it was overcast and chilly, like it might rain at any second. He was early, his own fault, and he spent the time watching the ships draw in and out of the harbor. These ones were centuries old, or built in the image of the vessels that had been. Anachronistic in a way he drew too much comfort from. If he’d have just been born a few centuries earlier — maybe even just a few years — the future might have missed him entirely. He could’ve built boats. He could’ve been luring sailors to their deaths, maybe. But the life would have been his own. That was the important part.

Kali appeared, eager and mortal, several yards down the stretch. She waved happily. When she got closer, he could tell she’d turned the magic off. She got to be a person today, not the witch, not the shadow crossing over history. She was just a girl. She hugged him, which he hadn’t expected. He didn’t know her that well, after all.

“Oh, they’re gorgeous! Thank you so much!” she said. It was unclear whether she picked up on the joke of them, but she did pick out a violet anemone from the bunch and placed it behind her ear. He held his wrist still, and she plucked one for him too, pinning it up into his hair. If it’d been a joke before, it wasn’t now. There was no getting out of this.

They walked the length of the water. He was scared of her, he realized pretty quickly. This was an odd sensation. It was not the kind of fear he was used to, not bone deep, chilling, dire. Something lighter. Something that danced its way out of the dark.

”Where are you from?” he asked quietly. He expected something stupid. From space. From a black hole.

He hadn’t expected her to flash her teeth again, to answer: “My family’s from Earth. I’m human.”

And he’d have almost believed her, if not for how sharp her canines were, if not for the way her tongue was forked. If not for the fact that all humans had died a long time ago.

“What about you?” she asked.

She was lying, and he couldn’t have told her the truth if he wanted to.

“Human, also,” he answered through rows of shark teeth.

“Really? That’s so funny, I am too.”

The fish’s head was still attached when it was served. It was amongst the collection of battered tentacles and prawns, of shellfish swimming in sauce, amidst the sea of red wine. It was by the water. Though Kali had chosen it, it really couldn’t have been more to his taste if he tried. She seemed happy enough with it, too. Lightly drunk, jeweled earrings clinking pleasantly when she tilted her head. Short nails. Her laugh was nice, and with such a refreshing lack of self-consciousness.

“We almost shot your ship down,” he admitted. “I guess we didn’t need to. I guess you didn’t even like it that much, clearly.”

To the best of his knowledge, it still laid in smolders on the forest floor to this day.

“That one wasn’t mine,” she clarified. “It wasn’t the…how would you put it? The mothership. You should see the mothership. You should.”

She pointed up. It must have been in the planetary orbit right now, just too high to see. He had to wonder who was tending to it, if she was all the way down here.

“Do you like your job?” she asked him.

I owe Galatea everything and I would die for it a million times over.

He wasn’t typically fanatical. Really, he wasn’t. But to hear her speak in terms like that, as if it was something for him to enjoy, as if it was even a choice for him…that wasn’t it at all. It was more than that. It was more the process of paying off a life debt.

“I do,” he admitted anyway, without lying. Because he did enjoy it. It was the only thing that kept him sane most of the time, the only place he’d felt anything close to happiness. It brought him satisfaction in a way nothing else ever had.

“…I think it’s the only thing I’d be happy doing. It’s the only thing I can find important, considering.” He gestured around, to the everything.

Kali rested her elbows on the table, nodding in understanding.

“What do you do, exactly?” he asked.

“What you do, but different,” she answered. “I destroy things. I wreak havoc on the system, so that flowers can grow in the wreckage.”

His turn to nod. He liked the sound of it.

“I believe in you,” he admitted. He hadn’t realized he was drunk before that moment. A warm blush had spread over his face again. “I bet you’ll win, too.”

He so rarely met people who could win.

“They must trust you a lot,” Kali said on the walk back.

“Oh.”

She knew, then. She must have. Because she reached for his arm and he yanked it away. The blush had spread now. He felt petulant, but in truth all he wanted was to storm off. She’d had him. She’d totally fucking had him.

“Come on,” she said. She knew.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said, as if he hadn’t just found out.

“Oh, come on,” she begged. She did cling to him now. “Don’t be upset, okay? It’s not like that.”

“I can’t give you anything even if I wanted to,” he said in his own defense, as if denying her what she was after might make up for just how thoroughly he’d been betrayed.

“Please don’t be upset. You’re making me feel bad, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I wasn’t playing around with them. I do like you. I do.”

He was hurt. It was hard for him to even place that ache sometimes, but he could feel it now. He’d just gone still while she buzzed around him, trying to get back to how things had been only minutes ago.

“Are you actually a honeypot?” He had to repeat it back, because he couldn’t quite believe it. “I didn’t even know they still made those.”

“I’m not. I’m not a spy. I’m an opportunist, yes, and I’d use you to get closer to what I want. I’d be the first to admit that. But I do like you. I think you’re cute. Maybe you’re what I want, and I want to be close to you.”

Her accent trailed and clipped as she cupped his face between her hands.

“Please don’t be upset.”

Delta sighed, gently sliding himself free of her.

He found himself in her company again nearly a month later. All the sting had been sapped away already. He found there was a sense of relief to have known her motives from the beginning. It was a relief to not be in a constant state of suspense, always waiting for the knife to fall. As shrouded as Kali was in passing, he thought it was a privilege to know this about her. She picked up right where they left off.

“Where are you from, really?” she asked him quietly, with a gentleness he didn’t think she could muster.

They were by the water again. The sun had nearly set — a different sun on a different ocean. Which were his own?

“No one knows where I’m from.” He shrugged. He realized, belatedly, he’d given the same nonsense answer he’d once expected from her. It made him feel bad, like he’d cheated her.

“I’m from here, now,” was still all he could manage.

Kali smiled a little bitterly, but he sensed it was for his own sake.

“Wishwanderer?” she teased. “Me too, I suppose. I’m from nowhere. I come and go. Do you know where I’ve been since I saw you last?”

The camera she had was a relic. He doubted it even belonged to this century. But she wielded it carefully, and the display worked just the same as any other. The film grain prickled lightly as the surface of the hazy photographs. The colors were all soft, like the light looked when he was falling asleep. Landscapes, mostly. The rough metal of industry shining alone within Eden.

“Anatola. Yves. El-ayah. Halley.”

The angel was visible in no small number of them. Was he meant to pretend he could not see it? Delta pressed closer to her, tightening his grip around her ribs. Kali turned her head. One of her hands freed itself to grasp at his jaw. She kissed him.

Delta did end up on her ship, when the night was late enough, when he had nowhere better to be. The earpiece was discarded on the floor, buzzing softly with no one there to hear it. The course had been set back to the place he called home, but the ship took its time. It was like she’d programmed it to go just as slow as possible.

It was mostly windows, which he liked. The interior was blue, fake plastic stars against the metal, dwarfed by the real expanse of space outside. The ship acted like it didn’t even want you to know it was there. If he zoned out, he could imagine the two of them in space alone, no glass or steel to shield them.

She was all tangled up in the sheets. He let himself be. When the fabric wrapped around his wrists, ensnared his waist and ankles, he felt the panic so remotely. It was as if his nervous system was on a different planet than the rest of him. In that way, it was easy to dismiss.

He was underneath her. He didn’t think they’d lost any point of contact the entire time they’d been aboard. Kali still kissed hungrily. Like she knew what she was doing, she moved to pin one of his wrists down into the mattress.

He could kill her. If he wanted to, he could carve a hole straight through the hull within milliseconds, and kill the both of them. No one could trap him anymore. It was all just play.

Kali’s hand ran back through his hair, gently, without tugging.

“You can hurt me,” he said. Not shyly. Without any self-consciousness. More like a fact than a request.

You can cut me open and I won’t even fight.

You could tear me apart and I’d let you.

Kali’s spine seemed to straighten, refreshing its arch when she rose. Her hand was in his hair, still. The other traced down by his neck, light against the collar.

“Do you want me to?”

The night cascaded through her dark hair when she tilted her head. Her grip tightened. Not enough to be painful, yet.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

There was no true silence to pulse. There remained the ambiance of machinery, the endless song of space, both humming listless in the background. Both of them were breathing a bit too heavily. She smiled. The sweetness of it took him aback. He hadn’t thought she was capable of it.

“Maybe next time, Delta.”

The relief washed over him in waves.

Hours later, with both of them on the floor, he moved his claws against the violet veins of her wrist. As if by finding the pattern there, he might find the pattern to everything. She was less complicated than she pretended to be.

The ship could hold several people and it did. He found the angel up at midnight. The other girl, the automaton, looked him up and down with a scientific interest before vanishing back to her room. He would come to know them more in time, but that night all he was was Kali’s new fascination. He did not mind this. He was used to that look.

They sat up shameless in the ship’s lounge, the blankets dragged along to keep the chill out. The ship’s monitor played films from a decade ago, audio softly filling the room as neither of them paid it any mind.

“Was I your first time?” she asked.

He shook his head for No. Not even close.

“You’ve done it before?” She blinked. “...With girls?”

“Mostly girls,” he answered, but didn’t bristle. For whatever reason, he got that a lot.

He’d tried everyone. There’d been times when he was half-crazed, descending, starved. He’d liked it. The whole time he had liked it, and had sat with the quiet amazement and joy that anyone could touch him without wanting to hurt him. That they could be nice.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like boys. He had. He did. But the sensation of them holding him down got to be too much at times. He was stronger than they were now, but it didn’t feel like it at the time. Girls were just easier. There were less memories to push through.

“Are you disappointed?” he asked. “Did you want me to be chaste, so that your swashbuckling ways might corrupt me?”

She cocked her head again, with that same sweet smile.

“Is that how you see me?” she half-laughed.

The blush came over him in full this time. He’d said too much. He was glowing within the darkened room.

“I really like you,” he confessed.

Kali grinned wider, cooing a little, like this was the cutest thing she’d ever heard.

In his own room, the marimo balls rested gently in a tank on his desk. The pearlescent beta fish — Lazarus — hung by the surface of it, swimming in lazy circles. Delta curled up on the desk chair just to watch him. Kitty had taken his spot on the bed. Wearing his hoodie, too, which he guessed he owed her after all this time.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he murmured. It was enough to make her perk up though, and the concern made his heart hurt. She was still so nice to him, even when he didn’t think he needed it anymore.

“We’re in the future,” she said. Duh. “That’s why there are spaceships.”

“I mean, do you think about yours?” he clarified, sensing he’d been misunderstood. He struggled to pin down exactly what he meant to ask.

Something like doubt flickered behind her eyes. Maybe he imagined it. Maybe he was just hoping for it.

“Everyone I love is here,” she answered. “This is what I like doing.”

“But if you could go anywhere else?”

“…I could go anywhere else. Now. But I don’t. Why, what are you thinking?”

It made him self conscious. He couldn’t look at her eyes for long after that.

“I just want to go home sometimes,” he confessed.

“Delta…” The name was a low rumble of sympathy, the unhappy beginnings of a purr. The way she had said it was enough. There was nothing she could have done to keep him from crying then. He felt like all the air had been ripped out of him, all the blood drained from his body. Death by space. All was void.

Kitty climbed off of the bed, padding over to where he’d become incorrigible. She cradled his head into her chest. His thoughts were just as jumbled as his words; he couldn’t say anything at all. It was a whole half hour before he could even get close again; once he could, he didn’t want to.

What are you going to do when this is over?

What will I do once I can’t do this?

Will we still be friends?

“I love you,” he said unsteadily, voice slightly croaked from crying so long. He felt like he’d been crying his whole life. He couldn’t believe he’d held it back all those years.

“I love you too!” she said. He could still hear the <3 in her voice when she spoke sometimes. “You’re gonna be fine. We never lose. It’s impossible.”

A dead lie, but one he liked to hear from her.

His eyes burned from the effort. When he closed them, he could still see the after-image of the monitor. For hours on end he’d been working at it.

What if winning a war was just a matter of getting all the signals straight? What if he had arranged everything into the perfect order and found that was what was needed all along, that everything would be okay now? Nobody ever had to die again.

There was some sequence of events that existed that would make everything right again. If he did it right, if he thought long and hard about it, it would come to him like an apocalypse.

The fantasy grew too painful. He buried his forehead into his knees, curling up on the chair again.

“Delta?” Levon called from the other room. “Go to bed.”

He was always right about these things.

“Where do you go when you’re not here?” Delta asked. “It’s like I never even hear from you outside of this.”

Delta sounded slighted for a second, like he meant to pick a fight, which he hadn’t. Any pitch to his voice just came from the shock of the bite. Lun didn’t answer either way. Good. He really hadn’t wanted them to.

They were on top too. The collar bothered them, he knew that much. He could still be choked around it, could still be bitten, but the silver meant they had to be careful. It was too funny.

“What are you going to do when all of this is over?” Delta asked.

Again, they couldn’t answer, not while their mouth was full. His blue blood spilled wildly over the both of them — Lun was taking more than usual, like they’d spent the time in-between starved. They might’ve. Or maybe they’d just been saving it.

“You live longer than the rest of us, right?” he asked. “More time to think about it. If the war ends, what-“

Lun covered his mouth with their hand to shut him up. He bit down on it hard, drawing a pained squeak from them. Their fangs withdrew from his neck.

Sleepwalking. In his dreams, he was on the beach. There was no light but for the pale moon, just barely reflected on the water. No sound but for the cascading waves hitting the soft sand. He had a dream he was sleepwalking — unaware in either world. Blindfolded, ignorant, and morally incompetent. He’d been sleepwalking straight into his own damnation.

His desires were all so infantile. I want to be safe. I want to be free. I want to go home. They had made him into something so wretched, something just barely learning to walk.

The wind carried the scent of jasmine through the palm fronds; they rustled like ghosts against the land. There was a vision of fire, of dancing. Peacock feathers discarded on the sand. What was he ever meant to do with that? The beach was empty when he looked up again.

“You weren’t worth it,” he prayed to the thing that had never once cared for his opinion of it. More petulantly, he added, “You never even said thank you.”

But that too turned to sea foam. When the dream was over, where would they be?

He woke up cold.

nodiving: hi

nodiving: i got clearance to send this so dont go around telling people im doing espionage or whatever this is all above board

nodiving: bionics.zip

candlenights: =)

nodiving: dont look at me like that

candlenights: thank you !

candlenights: will you tell levon i said thank you too

candlenights: why doesnt he want to talk to me

nodiving: its not you hes just busy

candlenights: is he running all his comms through you ?

nodiving: basically

candlenights: why ?

nodiving: i dont know. i guess i wanted to be useful to him. this is something im good at.

candlenights: odd choice

nodiving: why

candlenights: it feels like a waste of your abilities

nodiving: …what do you mean by that

candlenights: ah !

nodiving: what

candlenights: was i not supposed to know ?

nodiving: what

nodiving: wait

nodiving: dont say anything over the line okay please

candlenights: ok ! im sorry !

nodiving: no its okay

nodiving: look

nodiving: can i see you again

candlenights: yes ? im in tallahassee right now do you think you can come close

nodiving: yes sure ill be there

nodiving: send coords

candlenights: rn ?

candlenights: ◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️

candlenights: hey are we okay ?

nodiving: we are perfect

nodiving: i just need to talk to you in person right now

nodiving left the chat!

nodiving joined the chat!

nodiving: i wanted to see you again anyway

nodiving left the chat!

“Did you know from the start?”

They were both sitting out in the grass. It was twilight now, the world cast in soft purple light. Little fireflies buzzed through the aura.

Delta rested his arms on his knees, staring down at the insects that crawled in the ground. He couldn’t look at her.

“I don’t know,” Kali said. “I knew I felt something, I just didn’t know what.”

“Is that why?”

“How do you think it feels for me, when you paint me so cruel?” She was lying on her stomach, idly shredding the grass between her fingers.

“I have been used my entire life and I don’t expect that to ever change.”

“…Where are you from, really?”

“Empire,” he answered. He guessed he always knew.

Kali didn’t look surprised. She just nodded.

“Your accent,” she said softly. “I thought I could hear it in you. And there was something else. Something in your eyes, I guess.”

It was in his blood. He ran his hands back through his hair, because something within him needed soothing.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am.”

“What do I care?” Her voice dripped.

He took a deep breath, wishing now that he was underwater.

“…What about you?” he asked. “What are you?”

“I’m human. Like I said.” A flash of fangs again. “On my father’s side.”

She showed him. Laid up against him again, with that same rusted camera, she showed him the images of her father. Dark skin. Her smile, but with blunter teeth. A black dazzled suit. Inside of the big top.

Delta looked on incredulously.

“Traveling circus,” Kali said. “Haven’t you heard of us?”

Older pictures. Herself at thirteen, in a sparkling red dress. Nine years old with a magic wand. Trapeze. A light show. Eighteen years old, dressed in a suit with the angel beside her.

A whole life, and he hardly knew her. She was right against him, leaning over sometimes to kiss him, and he felt such a gulf between her and himself. Not just the two of them. Between anybody and anyone. Some irreconcilability. A difference that could not be resolved.

The universe is mostly empty space. Electrons repel each other. Even when you think you’re touching, you’re really not. In fact, you can’t, he didn’t say.

“What about your mother?” Delta asked carefully.

Kali scoffed. She leaned further back, pushing her with him so that they were both lying flat in the grass. On the horizon, the moon was starting to rise into the orchid colored sky.

“My mother doesn’t like me much,” she said. The one who’d given her the fangs, the one who’d given her the-?

She extended one hand up to the sky. Carefully, she positioned her fingers at the edges of the moon, appearing to him as though she was holding it.

She moved her hand further up and the moon went with it.

The faint stars that had been peeking through the firmament now burst with fresh light. Delta thought he had been blinded, that there was something dreadful, even primordial about the darkness that now swallowed him on all sides. His sight failed when the world plunged into night. The vision lasted for onto a few moments. When she twisted her wrist again, and the sky turned blue and without any sunlight. There was a shadow where it should have been. Eclipse. The sun’s corona radiated around the dark hole in space.

“…That’s not real,” Delta said faintly. She twisted her wrist back, releasing her hold for real this time. The moon slid back into place and the twilight resumed. A shrug. Her hand fell onto his chest instead.

“It is and it isn’t,” she half-agreed.

“You’re a magician,” he insisted. “You just do tricks. There’s nothing real about you.”

“That’s…fucking rude.“ She opened her eyes all the way.

“What was it?”

Another shrug. For a split second, her eyes were violet.

“My mother’s side,” she muttered.

Delta processed this. His hand moved to rest on top of her own, feeling the warmth there. She was nice to have close. He hadn’t been that nice to her. They hadn’t been that nice to each other.

“Demigod,” he said slowly. “Is that it?”

She nuzzled further into his shoulder, hit with a sudden wave of sleepiness. She’d shown off, and she’d worn herself out. He knew that feeling all too well.

“Burdened with glorious purpose. Like all of them,” she yawned.

She said: “It chose me, you know. The angel.”

All the insects were starting to sting. The air was sticky with an unwelcome warmth. He couldn’t make himself stay here any longer. When he tried to rise, Kali slumped again. It was so strange to view from the outside. He placed his hands beneath her forearms and he showed her a patience he’d always wanted.

She was fawn-like and stumbling, with a drowsiness that made her look more human than ever. He led her up the ramp and watched as she collapsed upon the couch of the common area. Water, aspirin, ice pack. This part was familiar.

When she blinked herself back to a half-lucidity, she brushed the black threads of hair from her face and checked that she could still stand. Kali was feverish. She pressed her fingers by the nape of his neck and he could feel the heat trapped within them. She slid the back of his hand up to her temple just for the relief.

Sheer blackness, uninterrupted by either her light or his own. Just the warm water pouring overhead. He imagined he was in a rainstorm in the darkest night. He imagined himself in the jungle. Kali’s hand moved to cup his jaw. He could feel her breathing. He knew the glass of the shower walls had turned foggy with heat. There came the faintest scent of eucalyptus. He did everything he could to please her. When she touched him, he swore he could feel more hands than she had, but each of them were careful, and softer than he deserved.

In the same unbroken blackness, but in a different room, he dreamt of the story she’d told him. He dreamt of the angel, resplendent and star-studded, with dripping wings longer than her body had been.

It had come in through the window. It had stood there in the window, its own body indistinguishable from the night sky behind it, but she had turned and she had sensed it and so it had let himself in.

She said it like scripture, like she was recounting a miracle. How she had been chosen. When he was frozen in her place, when he saw it as she saw it, he could think of it as nothing less than a nightmare.

“It chose me,” she’d mumbled again, beneath the covers, when she’d lost her place in the story.

“…That’s cruel,” Delta said. “I’m sorry.”

She looked at him as though he’d just slapped her.

But it was cruelty and he wouldn’t recant. He fell asleep in the darkness beside her. He woke up in the darkness beside her. He didn’t remember how, or how much time had passed, but when he next gained lucidity he was waking up in the darkness alone.

He did his best to stay crazy. When it first infected him, he’d thought it was some kind of fever, the way his heart raced and he had paced without aim. Some kind of nervous breakdown, Kitty had warned bluntly enough. That seemed more likely. His awareness of this did nothing to halt it.

Half-drunk at the bottom of a ravine, he could hear the sound of people being murdered. The person next to him helpfully informed him it was just the cry of big cats. Delta tried to remember what he was even doing out here, how it’d all come to be. He tried to walk all the way home and someone had to come and tie him down, because to walk that far in the cold and the dark was suicide, because he wasn’t in his right mind.

He drank so much that he made himself sick, like he was trying to get himself poisoned. He was curled up beneath the covers waiting to die. The hangover dug its claws so violently into him and all he could do was thrust himself further onto the points, let the migraine grow worse, make it so that his body could understand nothing at all but pain.

He refreshed the page again. Nobody had seen Paris in a year. There was no breakthroughs in the case, no sign he would ever return. Probably dead in a ditch somewhere. Delta cried.

Delta fell asleep in the hammock in the garden and all his dreams were of her.

nodiving: i think im in love with you

candlenights: wyd

candlenights: i like you a lot but you said you wont follow me so that is what it is

candlenights: i love you too but i dont know what you want

nodiving: i dont know either

nodiving: im sorry

nodiving: im not doing anything im on break because everyone has said im insane basically and i dont feel insane but i dont know how im supposed to feel

nodiving: i dont know what i want i think i just want to see you again

candlenights: id see you again!

nodiving: you would

nodiving: cool

nodiving: yay

candlenights: ahahaha

His memory failed still, and he lost the time in between. Where were they now? Another jungle. No. He was pretty sure it was an island. The sun was setting again.

She was meant for something, and he couldn’t save her from it, nor could he steer her away. He tried so hard to understand. The angel was absent now. Was it a part of her, or just something that had laid claim? She was blurred at her edges. No, everything was. It was some problem with his eyes. He wiped at them again.

“Are you going to hurt me?” he asked. More than she already had, he meant.

She was sprawled out beneath the trees. There were faint tan lines visible on her skin. Tattoos he hadn’t noticed before. She looked irritated by the question, which he probably would have been too.

“Why do you always say things like that?” she groaned. He shrugged, sinking a knife into the flesh of the fruit.

“Because you say it’s your destiny to destroy things, and that’s what I’m good at. So I thought that’s why you wanted me. And if you do, then that’s painful.”

“You think everyone’s out to get you.”

Something in him snapped.

Kali rolls her spine upwards, ribbons of black hair moving in little ripples along her bare legs. Red petals shifted in the air beside her.

“You don’t know what it was like for me, either,” she says. “What makes you think you’re so special? You think your hurt is so unique no one else could understand it?”

He sighed a little. There wasn’t even sharpness in her voice, nothing for him to flinch from. It was just sad.

“It’s not that. I know you hurt too. Everyone does. But your life was your own. You got to make your own mistakes. It doesn’t feel that way for me. Everything was just taken, and I’ll never get it back. Pain doesn’t even describe it. There’s just nothing there.”

He sounded incoherent. Shadows stretched out onto the land. He remembered how she’d appeared that first night, dancing in the darkness. A shadow puppet. She crept forward now, brushing his hair from his face. Petals fell again, bright spots of red against the darkening sky.

“I see you,” she said. “And I see no other versions of you. What you want to return to — it doesn’t exist. It’s just you and me, here right now. All I can give you. You don’t live there anymore.”

The colors glowed more vibrant. The psilocybin had to be kicking in. There was a presence now, an immediacy. He leaned into the kiss. He found her easy to lean into. All he wanted was to be free of it. In his head, all the cage doors were open. He swayed forward, and the night crashed onto the land.

He woke to the sound of waves breaking up upon the beach. His body protested when he made even the slightest movements, but he forced his eyes open. Daybreak. All the colors of the previous night still swirled in his head, vibrant and fearsome and mystic, but all that was there now was the easy quiet of the ocean.