#(and a few other assorted robots and aliens)

[parab0mb]

Work Doodles Sketchdump!!! (3-2025) - Batch 1

Betcha you weren't expecting another one of these so soon eh?

I've had my old OCs Jori and PAM on the brain these past few weeks, so I guess I went a bit nuts with doodling them almost exclusively in my notepad (no fanart doodles this time around, sorry).

[Second Part]

[cantsayidont]

April 1986. Long ago, back in the prehistoric days when you could still potentially buy both a new comic book and a candy bar for a single U.S. dollar, DC had a protracted flirtation with digest-sized comics, obviously intended to capture some of the supermarket checkout rack space normally dominated by Archie Comics. With very few exceptions, they were all-reprint, with a diverse array of material ranging from Golden Age reprints to '70s horror comics to recent DC highlights. This issue, #71 of the BEST OF DC BLUE RIBBON DIGEST line (which was only a "series" in a very technical sense), was one of the last, if not the last, of this eight-year experiment, and it sort of highlights why it became unworkable.

Let's suppose that you're a kid in early 1986, and while in line at the grocery store, you persuade your parental figure to buy you this comics digest. If they could spare the $1.50 plus tax, there was no obvious reason to object — it's a comic with a silly cartoon character on the cover and seems to have some Superman and Batman stuff, no big deal. What it contains, however, is a very peculiar assortment of recent material, including, inter alia:

"The Day the Earth Died" from SUPERMAN #408 (Paul Kupperberg/Ed Hannigan/Curt Swan/Al Williamson), a story about Superman's nuclear anxiety that begins with a rather harrowing dream sequence where Superman sees Metropolis destroyed by nuclear attack, leaving him the only survivor.

"Mogo Doesn't Socialize" from GREEN LANTERN #188, the now famous Alan Moore/Dave Gibbons short that introduced Mogo, the Green Lantern who's a planet.

Three ridiculous Keith Giffen stories: Blue Devil fighting the Trickster (from BLUE DEVIL #8); Ambush Bug trying to hassle Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman into guest-starring in his new miniseries (from ACTION COMICS #565); and a short in which the Atari Force's alien pet Hukka is terrorized by a robotic toy (from ATARI FORCE #20).

A tongue-in-check Batman adventure from BATMAN #383 (Doug Moench/Gene Colan/Bob Smith) in which our hero, in both his identities, desperately tries and repeatedly fails to get some sleep.

A solo story for Katana from BATMAN AND THE OUTSIDERS (Mike W. Barr/Jerome K. Moore) in which Tatsu murders some guys and recovers a stolen Japanese artifact with no dialogue or sound effects other than running radio commentary on a baseball game.

The well-known Alan Moore Swamp Thing story ("Rites of Spring," from SWAMP THING #34, drawn by Stephen Bissette and John Totleben) where Abigail Arcane and the Swamp Thing get very high on one of his psychedelic tubers and Abby gets her monsterfucker card punched, which editor Barbara Randall said had to be carefully recut not for content, but to get it to fit the page format.

This was a reasonably representative sampling of DC's 1985 output, but it's a weird lineup that's all over the place in tone and content. I have no idea what a hypothetical kid would have made of "Rites of Spring" upon encountering it in this format (by the time I happened upon my copy of this digest years later — for 50 cents — I'd already read it in TPB), but it would have been apparent that we were not in Riverdale anymore.

One nice thing about the digest series is that they often had some thoughtfully selected material; the themed issues are worthwhile, chosen with care even if the size and quality of reproduction were far from ideal. DC has occasionally put out conceptually similar packages, usually in something more like regular comic book dimensions (the Walmart specials, for instance), not on a regular basis, and not on supermarket checkout racks.

[duckapus]

SMG4 AU Idea: Adventure Time With Meggy and Boopkins

Takes place in a post-Mario-series universe where the world was once again invaded by the Shroobs, and the resulting war led to an apocalypse that decimated both sides. Nearly every civilization fell to ruin, Shroob waste spread all over causing illness and rapid mutation, the heroes of the world all either died, went missing, or worse, a wide assortment of ancient evils were unleashed or reborn all across the globe, and the very rules of Magic were rewritten.

Fast forward a thousand or so years later and we're introduced to Meggy the Human and her younger brother Boopkins the Fish, who've just left their hometown of Port Aurora to become Adventurers on the mainland. They're a bit odd even by the standards of their bizarre world, since humans are believed to have been extinct for centuries, Boopkins has incredible shapeshifting powers, and their dad Joe and aunt Lily are 50-foot-tall ancient guardians of the sea.

One of the first places they end up on their journey is the Mushroom Kingdom, which is currently in a bit of a bind. The Mushroom people's ruler, Princess Apricot Toadstool, has been kidnapped by the evil Fire Lord and his army of monkeys. The Mushroom people would rescue her themselves, but they're not exactly...competent. Well, except for Guard Captain Shroomy, but if both he and Apricot are gone while the Mushrooms are already this wound up the whole kingdom will collapse in about three days. So, First Adventure Time!

After some traveling they get to the volcanic region where Fire Lord's home is and fight their way through the monkey army, and Fire Lord's demonic right-hand minion Saiko, to the Princess...es. Apparently Fire Lord has a whole Thing about princesses and there's a dozen or so in there. One of them is Bob the Thief Princess, who is a guy because there's no rule that says a princess can't be a dude. And if there is one he'll break it because he loves breaking rules.

Anyway, Apricot's with Fire Lord instead of with the other princesses, so Meggy, Boopkins and the princesses storm further into the fortress and find them.

And if you're even slightly familiar with Adventure Time you know just what kind of goofy pathetic nutcase they end up finding. Though Fire Lord is red instead of Ice King's blue, has a jeweled bracelet instead of a crown, and has the additions of incredible jumping abilities and an addiction to spaghetti.

Anyway, there's a big fight (where Apricot ends up with a massive axe somehow and decides she's never letting it go. Yes I'm repurposing Wapeach because It's My House), the good guys win, everyone goes home.

Afterwards, Apricot declares Meggy and Boopkins heroes of the Mushroom Kingdom, and offers to let them stay in her castle, but they decline since they saw a big hollow tree on the way back that they can turn into a Fresh home base.

Of course, when they move in they find out that the place is already occupied by a little camera robot named SuperMemeGenerator4, but he's excited to have some new roommates so it's not a big deal. Also Bob decides to live there too for some reason.

So there's the introduction, now some explanations:

Yes, Fire Lord is (or at least was) Mario. The bracelet he's wearing is basically a fire version of the Ice Crown. I went with him both so he could be a major character despite how long the timeskip is and as a nod to what becoming the Avatar did to him in SMG4 canon. His version of Gunther the Penguin is a monkey in a green vest named Terence. I haven't fully decided why Saiko works for him but I'm thinking it's some sort of Life Debt thing like Han and Chewey in Star Wars.

Since the Shroobs are mushroom aliens the war that ended the world is still called the Great Mushroom War.

Lily's entire backstory is still the same, except the apocalypse and the absence of the Crew means she got found and taken in by Diana, And has very clearly taken up her mantle.

Apart from Fire Lord, Lily, and a few other obvious cases, everybody has their canon ages and personalities. So Meggy and Boopkins ages are swapped from Finn and Jake's, and Apricot is a kid and a very different sort of person from Bubblegum.

Due to that and some other differences, (some obvious, others less so) this AU wouldn't really follow the same story beats as the show.

Melony ends up in Marceline's place in terms of her relationship with Mario/Fire Lord.

Most of the iconic Mario Species are either extinct or mutated/evolved almost beyond recognition, with Boos and Piranha Plants as notable exceptions, and Goombas as a prime example due to now being big pack-hunting apex predators instead of sapient footstools.

Apricot is actually Mario and Peach's however-many-greats granddaughter, and neither her nor Fire Lord are consciously aware of that connection. Apricot because the Apocalypse making it hard to map out family lines that far and Fire Lord because he doesn't remember that he's Mario and wasn't aware before All That that Peach was pregnant. Also, Apricot isn't considered human due to a mix of mutations during the apocalypse, interspecies relationships, and the fact that I'm convinced that Peach is half-Toad already (both here and in actual Mario canon). It'll be more obvious that she's not human if I ever draw her.

When SMG3 and Tari get introduced it's going to be as the previous iteration of SMG4's design and as an Android created by the same scientist who built the two of them.

Also, Luigi will eventually get introduced by way of accidentally falling through a one-way time portal, getting sent from E. Gadd's Lab before the War to the story's present day somewhere in the wilderness. His absence was actually a major contributing factor to everything going so horribly wrong. Also since he's Luigi and not Betty, and since the dynamic between twin brothers and fiancés is obviously very different, he's going to have a different reaction to Fire Lord than Betty had to Ice King.

[quoteablebooks]

Genre: Fiction, Adult, Science Fiction, Space Opera

Rating: 5 out of 5

Content Warning: Death, Grief, Violence, Xenophobia, War, Terminal illness, Sexual content, Drug use, Genocide             

Summary: Follow a motley crew on an exciting journey through space-and one adventurous young explorer who discovers the meaning of family in the far reaches of the universe-in this light-hearted debut space opera from a rising sci-fi star.

Rosemary Harper doesn’t expect much when she joins the crew of the aging Wayfarer. While the patched-up ship has seen better days, it offers her a bed, a chance to explore the far-off corners of the galaxy, and most importantly, some distance from her past. An introspective young woman who learned early to keep to herself, she’s never met anyone remotely like the ship’s diverse crew, including Sissix, the exotic reptilian pilot, chatty engineers Kizzy and Jenks who keep the ship running, and Ashby, their noble captain.

Life aboard the Wayfarer is chaotic and crazy—exactly what Rosemary wants. It’s also about to get extremely dangerous when the crew is offered the job of a lifetime. Tunneling wormholes through space to a distant planet is definitely lucrative and will keep them comfortable for years. But risking her life wasn’t part of the plan. In the far reaches of deep space, the tiny Wayfarer crew will confront a host of unexpected mishaps and thrilling adventures that force them to depend on each other. To survive, Rosemary’s got to learn how to rely on this assortment of oddballs—an experience that teaches her about love and trust, and that having a family isn’t necessarily the worst thing in the universe.

*Opinions*

I am not a huge sci-fi reader, but with how much I absolutely adored Becky Chambers’s Monk & Robot novella series, I wanted to give her other series a try. I was not disappointed. There is something about this book that is cozy even though some serious topics come up during the events of this novel. This is very much a world-building and character-centered story, which might not be for everyone, but by the end of this novel, I was tearing up over the ship's AI.

The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet follows the crew of the Wayfarer, a vessel that tunnels wormholes to make transportation around space easier. Rosemary Harper joins this interspecies crew with her own baggage only to find that this crew is as rough around the edges as the ship itself. When the crew gets a long-haul job in new alliance territory, they have a lot of time to get to know each other and test the bounds between them as new issues arise internally and externally. It’s a job that will give them enough credit to live comfortably for a long time, but they have to survive the job to reap the rewards. 

Does that seem like a short overview for a four-hundred-page book? Well, that is because while there is a plot to this novel, it kind of isn’t the point. While the trip to Toremi space is always in the background, what you follow is the relationships between the crew members and the universe that Chambers created with her different alien races and their customs. Chambers approaches all of them with respect, but there is obvious tension between a few of the groups and misunderstandings that are bound to happen when different cultures intermingle. There are also a lot of conversations about AI and how it should be treated when it is sentient. Now, there are some areas of action in this book and I became tense on a couple of occasions, but this is firmly a character-driven novel. 

The crew of the Wayfarer is eccentric and loveable, think Firefly without all the war trauma. Even the members that aren’t very likable, to begin with, you grow to care about as the story progresses. They all also have very distinct personalities and issues that are dealing with. The reader is given an access point to the Wayfarer and the world via Rosemary as she grew up on Mars and had never been in open space before. However, throughout the novel, you get points of view from everyone on the ship as well as some other individuals that they come across. I didn’t think that I had become too attached to them, but the first time that the crew was in danger I was worried for them. By the end of the novel I was tearing up over the emotional turmoil they’re all going through. 

This is a really short review for a 5-star read, but I don’t have much to say other than I loved my time with the crew of the Wayfarer and can’t wait to get back into the world. I think that this is a good gateway book into the sci-fi genre. I can see why some people will not love this as much as I did, but truly I always wanted to get back to this book whenever I put it down. I also think that this would be a good audiobook if that’s your preferred way of reading. 

[keyblade-knights-blog]

Introducing Gabriel

"GABE!!!" The light evens out, dims... And the dreamer awakens to find himself staring up at a strange wooden ceiling, with plentiful iron pipes making their way about... A strange sight to be sure. The dreamer takes a moment to sit up, take in his surroundings... And their a bit confused when they see that the bedroom isn't just a bedroom. There's also plenty of machines about some of them seeming alien in purpose and design... Honestly, no matter how much the dreamer looked at everything, this felt just as much like a laboratory as it did a bedroom. ... Where was- There comes a knock at the door.

"Last chance Gabe! Get your butt up or I'm gonna get you up myself! ... So that voice was talking to him? ... So his name was Gabriel-? "Okay sis okay! I'm up!" ... That voice came out of HIS mouth? What? For whatever reason, the dreamer knows it's not his voice. Apparently he's a he? It's been so long, but he knows that for certain... "... Did I fall asleep sitting up-? Weird... Maybe a subroutine got a bit buggy. Might have to talk to the Doctor." And then the body moves on it's own, getting up from the bed... And as the Dreamer follows the body's eyes, he starts putting together more and more details. The body he's in is a strange silverish sheen, with what looks like slots and creases to allow a free range of movement on every natural curve the body might have... Which to him screams something unnatural. Something that merely imitates the human body as opposed to actually being one. The body begins a routine, using some tools to fix itself up; a wrench to tighten some screws, a comb to straighten out some wiry artificial hair, then a cast-iron scrub brush to brush away some dust, grease and other assorted oddities one might get. From there, he puts on clothes, a sleeveless black vest, a green scarf, a red hat, red pants, and throwing it all together with a thick brown leather coat that almost looked previous century... Finally, the dreamer gets a look at himself in the mirror.

.... The hand lifts up to the face... It definitely feels like it's made of a strange type of metal. But the metal also has some synthetics to it. It's almost like it's both at the same time? The face looks so young, probably around the dreamer's age or there-abouts... You know, if he wasn't a robot... Why does he think that? What are robots? What is- "-? Why am I-?" And apparently to confuse the issue further, this body wasn't even his own. The actual owner pulls his hand back and looks at it oddly. "... Why did I do that?" And as he, as Gabriel, questions this, something even stranger happens. One moment he's looking at his own reflection. And the next?

It's brief and he can't honestly see more then just an eye... But it's enough. "AGH-?!?!?!?" The robotic boy trips and falls backward landing flat on his metallic rump. "Wha-?? What was-!? WHO was-!?" "Was that... Me-?"

!!!! The robot is back on his feet in an instant. He has no weapons on his person, but now he WISHES he did. "W-Who said that?? Where are you??" "P-please calm down. I can explain! ... I think. But you need to chill out first." ... That voice seemed to be coming from everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time... Gabriel didn't LIKE that he was taking a suggestion from an unknown intruder, but he does as he's asked, lowering his guard. "... Alright... I won't punch you... Where are you though-? I don't see you anywhere..." The mechanical boy bops himself on the head a few times... "And why does it sound like you're inside my head?" ... He, the Dreamer, the Intruder... He takes control of Gabriel's body and turns him back to the mirror. "Wha-?? Why-?? Why is-??" For the briefest of moments, Gabriel see's his reflection again. ... ... ... ... ... And then it morphs again.

This time, Gabriel and the Intruder both are able to get a better look. As opposed to a simplistic looking robotic being with white metal, synthetic skin, wiry brown hair and dot eyes, they see a young man with a healthy tanned complexion, black hair, primarily wearing blues and whites, and sporting feathery looking black hair. To Gabriel, it's magical, it's nonsensical, it's honestly kind of scary. But to the intruder, it's an eye-opening experience. A memory deep deep DEEP down in his mind tickled at the sight. A part of him looking at that sight... And *realizing* it looks familiar. Intimately familiar. Like he himself had looked into a mirror once before and this sight awaited him as well... Did that mean... This was his reflection? What he was *supposed* to look like? "..." Gabriel once more calms down when he looks down at his hands and realizes the reflection isn't matching up with what he looks like now. Comforting since it meant that he didn't suddenly transform into the reflection he was seeing in the mirror. "... Who are you-?" ".... I...."

"... I don't... Remember."

[keyblade-wanderer-alex]

Introducing Gabriel

"GABE!!!"

The light evens out, dims...

And the dreamer awakens to find himself staring up at a strange wooden ceiling, with plentiful iron pipes making their way about... A strange sight to be sure.

The dreamer takes a moment to sit up, take in his surroundings... And their a bit confused when they see that the bedroom isn't just a bedroom. There's also plenty of machines about some of them seeming alien in purpose and design... Honestly, no matter how much the dreamer looked at everything, this felt just as much like a laboratory as it did a bedroom.

... Where was-

There comes a knock at the door.

"Last chance Gabe! Get your butt up or I'm gonna get you up myself!

... So that voice was talking to him?

... So his name was Gabriel-? ... Somehow that... Didn't feel right.

"Okay sis okay! I'm up!" ... That voice came out of HIS mouth? What? For whatever reason, the dreamer knows it's not his voice. Apparently he's a he? It's been so long, but he knows that for certain... "... Did I fall asleep sitting up-? Weird... Maybe a subroutine got a bit buggy. Might have to talk to the Doctor."

And then the body moves on it's own, getting up from the bed... And as the Dreamer follows the body's eyes, he starts putting together more and more details.

The body he's in is a strange silverish sheen, with what looks like slots and creases to allow a free range of movement on every natural curve the body might have... Which to him screams something unnatural. Something that merely imitates the human body as opposed to actually being one.

The body begins a routine, using some tools to fix itself up; a wrench to tighten some screws, a comb to straighten out some wiry artificial hair, then a cast-iron scrub brush to brush away some dust, grease and other assorted oddities one might get. From there, he puts on clothes, a sleeveless black vest, a green scarf, a red hat, red pants, and throwing it all together with a thick brown leather coat that almost looked previous century...

Finally, the dreamer gets a look at himself in the mirror.

.... The hand lifts up to the face... It definitely feels like it's made of a strange type of metal. But the metal also has some synthetics to it. It's almost like it's both at the same time? The face looks so young, probably around the dreamer's age or there-abouts... You know, if he wasn't a robot... Why does he think that? What are robots? What is-

"-? Why am I-?" And apparently to confuse the issue further, this body wasn't even his own. The actual owner pulls his hand back and looks at it oddly. "... Why did I do that?"

And as he, as Gabriel, questions this, something even stranger happens. One moment he's looking at his own reflection.

And the next?

It's brief and he can't honestly see more then just an eye... But it's enough.

"AGH-?!?!?!?" The robotic boy trips and falls backward landing flat on his metallic rump. "Wha-?? What was-!? WHO was-!?"

"Was that... Me-?"

!!!! The robot is back on his feet in an instant. He has no weapons on his person, but now he WISHES he did. "W-Who said that?? Where are you??"

"P-please calm down. I can explain! ... I think. But you need to chill out first."

... That voice seemed to be coming from everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time... Gabriel didn't LIKE that he was taking a suggestion from an unknown intruder, but he does as he's asked, lowering his guard. "... Alright... I won't punch you... Where are you though-? I don't see you anywhere..." The mechanical boy bops himself on the head a few times... "And why does it sound like you're inside my head?"

... He, the Dreamer, the Intruder... He takes control of Gabriel's body and turns him back to the mirror. "Wha-?? Why-?? Why is-??" For the briefest of moments, Gabriel see's his reflection again.

... ... ... ... ...

And then it morphs again.

This time, Gabriel and the Intruder both are able to get a better look. As opposed to a simplistic looking robotic being with white metal, synthetic skin, wiry brown hair and dot eyes, they see a young man with a healthy tanned complexion, black hair, primarily wearing blues and whites, and sporting feathery looking black hair.

To Gabriel, it's magical, it's nonsensical, it's honestly kind of scary.

But to the intruder, it's an eye-opening experience. A memory deep deep DEEP down in his mind tickled at the sight. A part of him looking at that sight... And *realizing* it looks familiar. Intimately familiar. Like he himself had looked into a mirror once before and this sight awaited him as well... Did that mean...

This was his reflection? What he was *supposed* to look like?

"..." Gabriel once more calms down when he looks down at his hands and realizes the reflection isn't matching up with what he looks like now. Comforting since it meant that he didn't suddenly transform into the reflection he was seeing in the mirror. "... Who are you-?"

".... I...."

"I don't remember."

[sternerstufftoys]

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has this to say on the subject of the planet Cybertron:

Avoid.

While neither the planet nor its native inhabitants can with good conscience be called inherently unpleasant, they have in short order become a net exporter of violent belligerence. The species of Cybertronians can be roughly divided into two groups: one which believes that every sentient creature of the galaxy, their worlds and resources, indeed every last ounce of matter in creation, should be placed in direct subservience to their own race, and the other which believes that it already is.

These two groups have been locked in a deadly war for roughly the same length of time that most other species can be persuaded to get down from trees, start banging pieces of flint together and get on with the rather more important task of inventing free market economics and lifestyle magazines, and both sides are fiercely committed to destroying the forces of the other. In fact, so intense and planet-consuming is this war that neither side have yet noticed that those few Cybertronians who couldn’t give a guillemot’s gall bladder about the eternal conflict have long ago nipped out for a stiff drink and have no intention of returning any time soon.

Those Cybertronians who remain are easily identifiable by their factions due to a remarkable commitment to brand identity, which along with gravity, elasticity, entropy and bloody-minded spite is one of the most powerful forces in the universe. One side tends towards blacks, greys and purples and the other towards reds and blues, a thematic identifier which persists even in the colour of the laser blasters which they tend to fire at each other whenever left in a room with one of the other side for more than half an hour.

This attitude towards chromatic identification is somewhat at odds with the Cybertronian race’s most defining characteristic, that of being able to shift at will between two modes - one humanoid and robotic, and the other a disguise of some form. It is thanks to this ability that Cybertronians are viewed with a certain amount of distrust by the galactic community, as it is one thing to have your home invaded and turned into fine powder by belligerent alien robots, but quite another to that same belligerent alien robot hang about in, say, the form of a motor car, microwave oven or electric carving knife. The general belief is that the first of these is something of a pain, but the latter is, in no uncertain terms, just plain rude.

It is for this reason, potentially exacerbated by the occasion of the Galactic Economic Forum’s annual Carvery Lunch being somewhat spoiled by the sudden and uninvited appearance of a Cybertronian delegatton in the form of a particularly unsettling gravy boat and assorted electric cutlery wares, that most civilised races have blacklisted Cybertron as a potential trade partner, at least until (in the words of the Togloonian High Emperor) “They all straighten their shit out”.

[rayveewrites]

So who wants to hear about my extremely weird Hermitcraft AU? Anyone? Too bad, I'm talking about it anyway and y'all can't stop me.

So, you know the fantasy trope of "an ancient super-advanced civilisation that disappeared off the face of the planet/went extinct due to hubris/got wiped out by a plague/etc"? Yeah. That.

...Let me explain.

In this case, the ancient civilisation was, in fact, Players. Players came in a variety of shapes, sizes, species, etc. Humans, Mob Hybrids, Werefolk, Cyborgs, Shapeshifters, assorted Halloween monsters, full-on robots, aliens, technically-not-aliens-but-basically-aliens... the list goes on. Now, what made someone a Player was never particularly well-defined due to sheer variety, but there were a few common threads. Players could break, pick up and place blocks, they could use chests, crafting tables and their own inventories, they could respawn in non-hardcore worlds, and they had a certain level of intelligence (about on par with, say, a human).

So, anyway. One of the most common threads were that Players- all Players- had access to magic. Typically this manifested in the form of inventories, crafting, being able to break/place solid 1m³ blocks, and, of course, enchanting, with Admin and Operator powers manifesting in various worlds for specific people. There were other forms of magic, of course, but learning those typically required (at minimum) a lot of study and/or a level of attunement to that particular branch of magic.

Players lived in communities, on worlds- in this AU, all the worlds were connected, but separated by the world borders. The various Hermitcraft worlds were some of these, as were 3rd Life and Legacy SMP and Hypixel and so on.

So, that's the worldbuilding preamble out of the way.

The worlds updated every now and then, and they added, tweaked and (occasionally) removed various mobs, blocks and mechanics. But this update, the Final Update... nobody's quite sure why, but it removed magic.

Not completely, of course. It set in slowly. Villagers no longer transformed when they were slain by zombies. The monsters of the night became less and less common. Portals became unreliable, until they eventually stopped working entirely. World borders started to fail (and I feel sorry for those unlucky enough to neighbour servers like 2b2t). Enchanting became more temperamental. Still, Players were adaptable. They could manage.

Until they couldn't. See, while Players had magic running through their systems, and had since the universe had existed, all of a sudden their children...didn't. The big problem was that most species- Hybrids, Werefolk, Spaeshifters, Aliens and not-exactly-aliens... their biology meant their children physically couldn't survive without magic. The one exception? Humans.

Already in the majority, humans were the only race who could still produce living children. But these children weren't Players. They had no inventories, no ability to use a crafting table or break a block with their bare fists like their forebears. They managed though, adapting and creating new ways to craft and smelt. And as time went on... they became the only ones left.

See, while Players were all long-lived, and capable of respawn, they did eventually experience the Final Death, from which there was no coming back (ignoring the occasional ghost, resurrection, or any necromancy-related shenanigans that were frankly extremely rare to begin with). And as time wore on, Players slowly died out, until all that were left were those who were Undying, and the Humans who weren't Players (it's worth mentioning that Immortals and Undying were two different peoples. Immortality was granted by the gods; when the gods faded, their gifts faded with them. Undying, on the other hand, were those who had experienced their Final Death but kept going. Undead beings, if you will). Undying could be killed, if their body was so badly maimed their soul had no choice to fly free, but not so badly they would just respawn; as Human societies developed, many Undead succumbed to this fate, either by choice or by force, acts done by fearful Humans.

Let's go forward, now.

It's been over two thousand years since the Players died out, and longer since the Final Update. There is only one world now, the world borders long forgotten. The Players are myths, legends; a mysterious race, now long gone, their builds crumbling to ruin. Nobody has encountered a zombie or creeper for millennia; the only spiders left are small and harmless, a far cry from the creatures once large enough for a skeleton to ride.

Archeologist study the ruins Players left behind. One city, Hermiton, was originally a camping ground for people to study the various ruins in the area; the crumbling remains of a vast monument, the stump of a tree larger than should ever have been possible, a gaping hole some claim leads to the centre of the Earth.

Near Hermiton lies a vast forest, beside the footprint of what had once been an immense mansion. The forest is a mixture of different species, most likely transplanted thousands of years ago. In that forest lives... something. A ghost? A spirit? a cryptid?

Whatever it is, it's not human. The locals claim she looks like a woman, with glowing eyes and long red hair. They call her the Green Lady, for the colour of her skin. They say her teeth are sharp, and that dark claws tip her fingers. They say her cheeks are hollow, her eyes are sunken- but that her gaze holds a fire no Human could hope to match. They say she lives in the forest, and that she is its guardian. They say that anyone who tries to chop down the trees, to clear the land, will face her wrath.

Outsiders will write this off as a modern-day folk tale, an urban myth. But believe it or not, there is something- someone- who dwells in the woods. Someone who brings those lost home. Someone who intercedes if there's danger. Someone who will run through the forest with a familiarity only born from centuries, millennia, of practice.

They don't know who she is. She's a guardian spirit. She's a ghost. Se's been there since the Ancients walked the land. They're not wrong about that last one. Once, she altered a sign planted by the one responsible for the enormous tree. Once, she had her arm sewn back on by the person who'd built the immense mansion. Once, she threatened the man who dug the vast hole, the one they say leads to the centre of the Earth.

She's a Player, the last one left. She's a zombie, the only one to still walk the Earth. She's alone. Once, she had a family, a home. She dwells near the ruins of that home, even now. Her kind, her kin; they're long gone. She's the only one to remain.

She waits for the day her family will return. It's written in the stars, in the fabric of the Universe. They will return. And she will be there, ready to greet them with open arms. For the Univers is kind. The Universe loves its Players.

Alone in the forest, ZombieCleo, Master of Puppets, the Undead and Undying, the Last Player, waits. She'll be there, when her family, her hermits, return.

Even if it takes another two thousand years.

[thepatricktreestump]

whatever you say - peter parker imagine

A/N: I don’t normally write nsfw spidey things but my fingers just wouldn’t stop typing so please do forgive me… not any actual smut, just lots of flirting and implications of sexual favors

               It was strange, but for some reason, you found complete comfort in the simplicity that was Peter Parker. He lived in a small apartment with his Aunt May in Forest Hills, went to Midtown High, and at first glance, seemed like your typical teenage boy. May worked as an ER nurse and Peter kept up on his studies, proving to be a straight A student who succeeded not only in school, but in extracurriculars and academic teams as well. He liked science and math, he was really good at building robots, and he thoroughly enjoyed memorizing equations. When he wasn’t acing his tests, he spent his free time building LEGOs and watching Star Wars in his apartment or walking through town and debating between eating pizza or sub sandwiches. He had a messy bedroom cluttered with dirty laundry, an assortment of different computer parts, and countless science textbooks and academic journals. Three months ago, when you first started dating Peter Parker, this is the boy you thought you knew.

               Your life, however, felt like the complete opposite. Being the daughter of Tony Stark, your day to day was far from simple. You lived in Stark Tower with Tony, cooped up on a floor with everything you could ever want or need, a master bedroom with a flat screen television, personal jacuzzi, walk in closet, arcade- you name it, Tony had it. School proved to be a breeze, and you had your MIT valedictorian of a father to thank for that, leaving you plenty of time for your own sort of extracurriculars. Rather than hang out at school and build lousy robots with Peter Parker, you’d much rather go to the lab and work on some high tech AI coding, super suit dynamics, or machine prototypes with your dad and the other avengers. He often urged you not to get too involved for your own safety, but you found yourself growing close with Bruce and Sam, bonding over your shared love for innovation. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t take after your father.

               However, months passed, and the more time you spent with Peter Parker, the more you caught onto the fact that his life might not have been as normal as you initially thought it was. He kept disappearing randomly, ghosting you on planned dates, or not showing up at school. At first you thought he was just nervous, or maybe he didn’t really like you, but upon further investigation, it was evident. His life was just as crazy as yours. Although you thought it was weird that he never bothered telling you he was Spider-Man, and even weirder he didn’t inform you that he previously knew your dad, you almost liked the fact that you could share your secret world of superhero knowledge with him. You found yourselves relating to each other by joking about Steve’s old fashioned manners or Natasha’s resting bitch face. Although, other times also through confiding secret fears or discussing worst possible outcomes.

               Tonight was one of the latter, you and Peter talking on the phone despite the time reading two in the morning, him trying to ease your anxiety. “It’s just been a couple days and Tony’s still not back yet…” you sighed, shrouded by your blankets, the soft glow of your phone illuminating the dark room. “He’s with Sam and he’s probably going to be just fine, but I’m still scared. And I know, I know. I’m not supposed have knowledge about those affiliated with the mission or his location, but sometimes I just can’t help but worry.”

               “It must be hard,” Peter hummed in sympathy. “I’m sorry you have to go through that. May feels the same way about me.”

               You paused for a moment. “I know it’s a horrible thing to think, and I’m probably just psyching myself out but-” your voice caught, shaking your head, closing your eyes. “Sometimes I wonder what if one day he just doesn’t come back.”

               “Hey,” Peter hushed. “Try not to think about that, okay? He’s Iron Man, y/n, he’s fought alien monsters and literal gods, he should be just fine. Mr. Stark never goes down without a fight, he’ll be back. I’m sure of it.”

               “I just can’t sleep not knowing,” you confessed, feeling sorry for dragging Peter into your own personal troubles. “I don’t know, I’m sorry… I’m probably keeping you up, and you have a calc test tomorrow-”

               “No, no, don’t apologize, you’re okay,” your sweet boyfriend insisted. He paused, listening to your heavy breathing. “Do you want me to come over?”

               “W-what?” you asked, confused.

               “I know it’s late but if it would make you feel better, I can come over,” Peter offered. “I’ll just come to your window and you can let me in that way. I can keep you company, you can talk to me, or we can watch a movie to get your mind off things, I don’t know. Only if you want to.”

               “You’d do that for me?” you wondered, growing soft at his words.

               “I just don’t want you to be sad,” he explained. “And I know it’s hard with your dad being gone and all, and sure Pepper’s there, but I know you’ve never really been that close with her, and I just- I don’t know. I feel like you’re lonely, and I want to help.”

               “Yeah, thank you,” you gave a soft smile. “I mean, if you want to, I wouldn’t fight you on it.”

               “Just be sure to disarm FRIDAY before I come,” he reminded. “I don’t need your dad putting bars on your windows the next time I try to visit you like this.”

               “Oh right!” you suddenly came to the realization. “Smart. I’ll go do that now.”

               “Cool, I’ll see you in a few. Don’t miss me too much,” he teased.

“Hey, be safe! No texting and swinging!” you reminded playfully as you hung up and instantly got to work, shedding your sheets and grabbing your laptop, sliding back into bed and working out some coding.

               Just as Tony had previously set up a baby monitor protocol on Peter’s suit, he had likewise set up parental controls through FRIDAY on all of your tower floor. You learned this when you tried to sneak out to a party Tony specifically forbid you from going to, and when you finally reached the elevator doors, FRIDAY locked you inside and you had to wait for Tony to come and get you. Since then, you’d been smart enough to disarm the system anytime you left your room after curfew or got into any other business Tony would obviously disapprove of. Spider-Man sneaking through your window at two in the morning to give you comfort cuddles? Probably something your father would disapprove of.

               Peter tapped twice and waved, you rolling your eyes and laughing, motioning for him to come in before he slid up the glass of your window and crawled through, brushing off his suit and tugging off his mask, smiling once he clearly saw you sitting in bed, wearing one of his hoodies, grinning back at him.

“Hey Spidey,” you beamed, watching as he walked over towards your bed, kissing you softly. He tasted sweet, like candy, and you melted into the kiss, grabbing the back of his head and staying there for a moment before pulling away. He gave the best kisses.

               “Heard someone needed some cheering up,” he whispered, tossing his mask on your night stand as you made grabby hands begging him to crawl into bed with you. He chuckled, giving in and situating himself underneath your covers awkwardly. You laughed alongside him, tugging him closer, pulling the sheets up over both of you, initially wincing at how cold his suit was when you went to wrap your arms around him.

               “You’re freezing, Peter,” you hissed and he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

               “It was windy outside, alright?” he sighed. “Come warm me up.”

               “Well come closer, doofus,” you chuckled. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him, your head resting against his shoulder, arm draped over his chest, fingers playing with locks of his hair. Your voice grew to a soft whisper. “Thanks for coming, baby.”

               “Anything for you, love,” he insisted, his hand rubbing soft circles on the small of your back. The room grew quiet, his hands trailing up and down your back, your fingers brushing through his messy brown locks, both of you simply enjoying each other’s company. At some point you both fell asleep, soft snores dissipating throughout the room, holding each other.

                In the morning, Peter begrudgingly convinced himself he had to get up and get ready for school, kissing you on the forehead and reassuring he’d see you at lunch later that day. You groaned yourself, realizing you should probably get up and resume FRIDAY’s commands before Pepper or Happy got suspicious as to why she wasn’t giving them any updates on your morning status. You took a shower and threw on some clothes, getting ready for the school day, smiling once you saw Peter waiting for you by your locker, a Starbucks cup in his hand.

               “What’s this?” you couldn’t help but laugh in surprise.

               “Well I know you were sad last night and again, I just wanted to cheer you up,” he shrugged, and you found it adorable that you had been dating for going on four months now and he still got flustered being around you. “I know you like the pink one with the strawberries and the coconuts, but they were out, so I got you a peach lemonade instead, I hope that’s okay-”

               “It’s wonderful, Peter,” you insisted, taking a sip and smiling fondly at your boyfriend. “Thank you. For everything. Really.”

               “Damn Peter, you’re buying y/n Starbucks now?” Ned approached both of you. “You never buy me Starbucks.”

               “I’m not dating you, Ned,” Peter narrowed his eyes, laughing.

               “You don’t have to kiss me to buy me a cold brew,” Ned sighed.

               “Anyways,” you rolled your eyes at the two boys quarreling. “You ready for that calculus exam?”

               “I studied all night,” Ned smiled. “I’ve got this one down. How about you, Parker? I bet you were up late last night studying too, huh?”

               “Up late last night,” you agreed. “I don’t know about studying though.”

               Ned’s eyes went wide and both you and Peter laughed, the bell ringing and all of you walking to your classes. As they day went by, you started to find your mind lingering back to your dad. As much of an asshole as he was sometimes, and as overbearing and overprotective as he could get, you really did love him and care about him. Others would probably call you lame, but you really did see Tony as one of your best friends. He helped you build amazing inventions, supported you in all your academic endeavors, and did his best to look out for you. Whenever he was gone on missions for longer than a week, you always started to get worried as far as whether or not he would come back.

               Peter could sense your anxiety, trying to lighten your mood with jokes or place a hand on your shoulder as a sign of affection. Afterschool he approached you, clutching onto the straps of his backpack, seeming nervous. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough day. I was thinking we could take your mind off of things and you could spend the night at my place tonight?” he offered.

               “Really?” your eyes lit up, thinking how you would love more than anything to get out and do something tonight. Nothing was worse than staying at home and wallowing in your feelings.

“Yeah,” he gave a soft smile, thinking about how adorable you looked when you got excited. “Aunt May is working night shift so maybe, if it’s cool with you, we can grab a pizza, play some video games, and then watch a movie?”

               “Of course,” he insisted. “And we can stop somewhere on the way home to grab some snacks too.”

               “I’ll give Pepper a call and ask if I can stay over tonight, I’ll probably just say I’m with Gwen or something,” you grinned. “She’ll say yes, she usually lets me have free rein whenever Tony’s out of town.”

               “Awesome,” Peter beamed.

               Sure enough, you found the two of you hours later on the floor of his bedroom, eyes fixated on a television screen, playing Mario Kart and chowing down on some pepperoni pizza and cherry slushies. It was practically a ritual for you to hang out with Peter on weekends. As long as he didn’t have an academic decathlon the next morning, Aunt May let you stay as late as you wanted on Fridays. Saturdays you spent fooling around in the lab working on suit modifications, recalibrating certain machinery, or working on new projects. Sundays were official lazy days, both of you usually sleeping in and meeting up midday to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie, usually wrapping up with finishing your weekend homework over facetime. However, on the weekends in which Tony or May were out of the house, the two of you liked to have sleepovers. Usually at Peter’s for the sake of having to navigate FRIDAY’s complicated algorithms.

               It wasn’t like anything particularly steamy happened between the two of you. You had been only dating for a handful of months now, and you were both in high school. Sure, you and Peter liked to cuddle a lot, and hold hands, and play with each other’s hair, but that was simply just affection. And of course, you loved kissing each other, especially when nobody else was around to make fun of you or scold you. Sometimes you found yourself getting into make out sessions, pressed up against each other and finding it hard to catch your breath, hearts racing and desperately clinging onto each other.

Occasionally it would heat up a little bit more than that, some grinding and groping and moaning, and a handful of times Peter’s taken his shirt off, but that was about it. You hadn’t even really reached second base with him yet. And you weren’t complaining, you were glad you were taking things slow. But at this point, you were ready. It just felt like it was time. But you knew this was Peter’s first serious relationship, and you didn’t want to put any pressure on him or rush him into things, so you were complacent with playing Mario Kart and eating pizza in the meantime.

               “I am sooo going to kick your ass,” you warned Peter, pressing down hard on your Wii remote and hitting him with a red shell as your character zoomed past him on the race track, and he simply just laughed.

               “Yeah? Wait till I break out Rainbow Road,” he insisted.

               “Are you actually Satan or do you just hate me?” you narrowed your eyes. “There is no way I’m playing that shit, I think I’d rather forfeit.”

               “It’s all about strategy and focus,” he argued, knocking Luigi out from second place, tailing right behind you, eyes glued to the screen.

               “Strategy? You sound like Ned,” you snorted, drifting a curve and heading towards a shortcut. “That racetrack is nothing but a holographic highway of death.”

               “If we had it your way, we would be playing Moo Moo Meadows on an endless loop,” Peter teased and you gasped playfully.

               “What? It has fun music and I like looking at the cows,” you whined and he laughed, passing you at the last minute and scoring first place, making your jaw drop. “What the hell? How?”

               “What can I say? You’re dating a winner, baby,” he grinned and you rolled your eyes, shaking your head and taking another bite of your pizza.

               “I’m dating a jackass,” you joked. “You can’t let me win just once? Come on, be nice.”

               “I used to do that, and you made fun of me for it,” he pointed out. “Remember the first week we started dating?”

               “You literally used to go in reverse until I caught up with you,” you replied flatly. “It was ridiculous, Peter. It’s not like you made it subtle that I happened to suck at the game or anything.”

               “I just didn’t want you to feel bad,” he reassured, and you chuckled, taking a sip of your slurpee and sighing, leaning your head on his shoulder.

               “So another round or are we going to move onto Smash Bros?” you raised an eyebrow.

               “Up to you,” he shrugged, taking a bite of his pizza as well.

               “How about we play another round of Mario Kart,” you suggested. “But whoever wins gets a prize.”

               “Like what?” he crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the mischievous grin on your face, doubtful.

               “I don’t know, a hoodie or something,” you perused innocently and he let out a breathy laugh.

               “You’ve already stolen all of mine, so I’m not sure I’d have another one to give you quite honestly,” he admitted and you smiled, mind wandering elsewhere.

               “What about…” you pouted your lips, trying to think up something good. “What about if I win, I get to do anything I want to you? And if you win, you get to do anything you want to me. All within reasonable boundaries of course.”

               “Woah,” Peter’s eyes widened. “Is this the part when you tell me you actually work for Hydra and you gut me like a fish or something?”

               “Pshh no that’s ridiculous,” you shook your head.

               “What do you mean ‘do whatever you want to me?’ Huh?” he inquired, mischievously raising an eyebrow. “This seems oddly torture-like.”

               “It’s not going to be torturing,” you stared at him, unamused. “I could never hurt you.”

               “Then what could you possibly want to do to me?” he sighed, looking at you, entertained with your shenanigans, taking a sip of his cherry slushie.

               “I dunno,” you shrugged, stirring your straw in your cup a couple times before casually telling him your suggestion. “Suck your dick I guess.”

               He instantly spat out his slurpee, eyes widening, shocked. “E-excuse me, what?”

               “I said if I win, I’d probably suck your dick I guess,” you shrugged again and he blinked at you, entire face flushed red, stuttering and stunned all at the same time. Your lips curled up in a small smile, thinking of how much you loved to see him like this, a literal blushing virgin. He was adorable, really.

               “Well gosh, I uh…” he looked down at the red icee he had spat all over his t-shirt and then up at you, still at a loss for words. “You don’t really have to beat me at Mario Kart to get my permission to do that, you know.”

               “Yeah, but this way makes it a lot more fun, yes?” you smirked and he swallowed awkwardly, absolutely frazzled.

               “S-sure, I guess you’re right there,” he nodded slowly, still staring blankly at the slushie stains. “How do you know I’m not going to just let you win?”

               “Because…” you drew out, looking at him, still smirking. “If you win, then you get to do whatever you want to me.”

               He paused, turning towards you, breath hitching. “Anything?”

               “Well again, no torture or killing or whatever but-” you clarified and he laughed, rolling his eyes.

               “Yeah, of course, but uh…” he got lost staring at you again and you couldn’t help but wonder what he could possibly be thinking of. “Shit, I’m in.”

               “Really?” you bit down on your lower lip, almost too excited for this bet.

               “Definitely,” he nodded, feeling a bit more confident. “Just give me a second.” He slipped off his t-shirt and you watched intently, noting how built and lean he was. There were certain perks to dating Spider-Man, and it was moments when your boyfriend was sitting in front of you shirtless like this that you were ever most grateful for them.

               “Well shit, Parker,” you laughed to yourself and he stared at you, confused.

               “What? My shirt had slushie all over it,” he insisted and you looked at him, narrowing your eyes.

               “Uh huh…”

               “No for real!”

               “Totally not trying to tease me or anything over here.”

               “Oh whatever! Just start the game.”

               “Give me a second,” you insisted, reaching down and deciding to take it one step further, slipping off your own sweatshirt and revealing your bra underneath, looking at him, anticipating his reaction. Seeing him like this, you wanted to take a picture and capture it forever. He looked breathless, staring at you, his eyes dark and fixated, his lips parted, mesmerized. You couldn’t help but smile. “See something you like, Spidey?”

               “Yeah,” his eyes flickered up to yours, still blushing. “You.”

               Grinning, you leaned over to kiss him, then pulled away, picking up your Wii remote and selecting your favorite racetrack. “Good luck,” you winked.

“Good luck yourself,” he laughed. “Seeing as the only time you ever beat me in Mario Kart is when my controller dies, I think you’re the one who’s going to need it.”

“Fine, to hell with luck,” you rolled your eyes as the countdown started. “Maximum effort.”

               Both of you pressed down hard, zooming through the track, eyes fixated on the screen, cursing and screaming and hooting and hollering as you gained power ups and got knocked off the road by each other. By far, the most intense game of Mario Kart you’ve ever played in your life. Each round you seemed to egg each other on more and more, and although you clearly knew how this was going to end, you couldn’t help but at least try your very best. First place trophy spinning on the screen, Peter’s tongue ran over his lower lip, glancing over at you as nervousness flowered in your chest. What did he have in mind?

               “I don’t think either of us saw that coming,” he stated sarcastically and you looked at him incredulously.

               “Alright then Peter Parker,” you hummed lightheartedly, shutting off the television and setting your controller down, sighing as you leaned back and rest your weight upon your backwards palms. “What do you have planned for me?”

               “Well…” he looked at you shyly, almost hesitant, and you began to grow even more curious. “I know you said ‘anything I wanted’ or whatever, but I want to make this enjoyable for you too, and that sure you’re okay with everything I’m doing.”

               “By all means, don’t stop for me,” you insisted, small smile tugging on the edge of your lips. “If you say or do anything I don’t like, I’ll speak up. Don’t worry.” He hummed softly in acknowledgment, nodding as he looked towards the floor, still nervous, then cleared his throat.

               “I think seeing as your intentions were to seduce me, I guess I have no choice but to go along with the theme,” he rolled his eyes playfully, slowly gaining confidence and crawling closer to you, making your heart beat twice as fast. He kissed you on the lips, soft and sweet and slow, and then pulled away, lowering his face so that his mouth was barely brushing up against your ear, his voice lowering to a whisper. The entire mood of the room shifted, into something more serious. “So, I think you should lay on the bed for me.”

               “Whatever you say,” you smiled sweetly, trying to hide your nervousness and doing as told, getting up and making your way to his bed, laying down on your back, watching as he stood at the end, looking you up and down, licking his lips. You could tell something inside of him changed. He didn’t seem so timid anymore, afraid to suggest something or speak up. His shoulders rolled back, his feet planted solid in the ground, his entire stance exuding confidence. It was different, dominant and alluring, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by it. He was entrancing like this, dark eyes gazing over your body, shirtless, hands dipping down into the waistband of his jeans, brows furrowed, pondering what to do with you.

               “Hands up. Against the bedframe,” he ordered, and you looked at him, trying to analyze what he had in mind as you tentatively did as instructed, positioning your arms above you, against the wooden frame. In what seemed like an instant, he suddenly flicked his wrists outward, webs springing from his fingers and you gasped as the sticky substance pinned your hands above you, a mess of webs fixating them to the wooden plank. You eyes widened and then narrowed.

               “Didn’t know Spidey was into bondage,” you bit down on your lower lip, aroused by his dominance and playfulness all the same.

               “Didn’t know you could be so naughty,” he quipped back and you blushed, trying to look away, shy.

               “Nuh uh, none of that,” he argued with a chuckle, crawling on top of you and raising your face to look at him with one of his hands, making your eyes meet. “If I do recall correctly, you were offering to suck me off a moment earlier. Seemed pretty eager too.”

               “Still am if that’s what you fancy, Peter,” you suggested, eyes twinkling with a glint of naughtiness, but he just shook his head, smiling.

               “I think I have other plans for you tonight,” he insisted, kissing you again this time, but rougher, his tongue sliding in between your lips and up against your own, then retreating to have his teeth catch your lower lip, dragging it between them before he pulled away, devilish smirk on his face.

               “Mind filling me in on the agenda?” you asked with a breathy voice, fluttering your eyelids and parting your lips, bucking your hips up to meet his.

               “It involves your pants off, and my head between your legs, and you moaning my name,” his eyes flickered up to meet yours. “And then me fucking you into this bed until those moans turn into screams.”

               “Holy fuck,” you whispered, eyes glazed over, staring at him, practically speechless.

               “Sound good to you, sweetheart?” he hummed, fingers tracing over your stomach, playing with the hem of your waistband.

               “Shit…” you laughed to yourself quietly, eyes still fixated on him, feeling unbelievably flustered. “I think I ought to up the ante on Mario Kart wins a whole lot more from now on.”

[chiseler]

Hero of Our Nation

I first encountered Roger Ramjet on a Chicago public access station in 1983. It was part of an early morning show apparently aimed at stoner insomniacs. The show came on at five and also included episodes of Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp, that awful Beatles cartoon, and a weather report clarified by some appropriate pop song (“Here Comes the Sun” or “Here Comes the Rain Again”). I was usually up and around that early for some godforsaken reason, and originally started watching on account of Lancelot Link. Always did love that Lancelot Link. But Roger Ramjet was, well, let’s just say it was a revelation.

Roger Ramjet, “ that All-American good guy and devil may care flying fool” (as he compulsively introduces himself) was a none too bright and none too coordinated drug-dependent space age superhero in an ongoing battle against the assorted forces of evil (or more specifically, N.A.S.T.Y.) to preserve the American Way of Life. He was square-jawed, straight-laced, straight-faced, and True Blue if little else, so hyper-patriotic that nearly every time his name is spoken aloud an American flag, a bald eagle, or a rotating ring of stars appears on the screen. After catching one or two episodes, I forgot all about Lancelot Link.

The show was easy to overlook, especially when squeezed between the Beatles and some secret agent chimps with a psychedelic band. The episodes were only five minutes long (maybe seven with the abrasive theme song filling out the opening and closing credits), and were so crudely drawn and animated it might at a glance seem like something a couple of junior high school kids threw together in their basement one weekend. The shows were so primitive they hardly bothered with niceties like “backgrounds” satisfied instead to settle for rudimentary suggestions of a setting. But the writing was so sharp and the voice talent so good what it really felt like, if you paid attention, was a spoof of a ‘40s radio serial like Sky King or Gangbusters, complete with a soap opera organ and illustrated by a handful of jerky drawings scratched out by someone’s kid. People who thought Jay Ward’s Bullwinkle and Dudley Do-Right were crude when compared with the output from Disney or Warner Brothers had no idea what “crude” meant. 

Looking at it today what it reminds me of more than anything are the paper cutout animations of the earliest episodes of South Park, before they upgraded to Flash. Along with the lo-fi stylistics, the humor was clearly aimed at an adult audience while pretending otherwise.  You may not find any child molestation jokes or crass religious cracks in Roger Ramjet, but for 1965 the lightning-fast humor was pretty hepcat and sophisticated, with undisguised satirical references to the Cold War, Central American turmoil, and the  Vietnam War (“Hey kids, this is Roger Ramjet,” demanding that you stay tuned to this station to see my next adventure,” Roger announces in his commanding superhero baritone. “Or I’ll see to it that all you little rascals are drafted.”) . Mixed in with the topical jokes we also get some highly unlikely name drops, from Noel Coward and Henry Cabot Lodge to James Joyce and bawdy nightclub performer Rusty Warren, as well as film parodies and  literary nods to the likes of Catch-22 and Catcher in the Rye.  It’s also a little less than what you might call racially sensitive by modern standards (consider Mexican revolutionaries The Enchilada Brothers, Beef and Chicken).

While a lot of the more timely jokes might be lost in the murk of the over 50 years since it first aired, there’s plenty of rapid-fire absurdity that’s timeless, from the misspelled title cards punctuating the narration to the self-consciously dumb coked-up adventures.

Bullwinkle aired from ‘61 to ‘64. Roger Ramjet came along a year later and Jay Ward’s influence is undeniable. The difference was Roger Ramjet crammed the equivalent number of bad jokes, references, and plot twists of a typical 8-part Bullwinkle serial into each five-minute episode, both mirroring the rapid-fire screwball dialogue of the ‘30s and the frenetic quick-cut comedy to come along a year or two later in shows like The Monkees and Laugh-In.

The episodes were produced with essentially no budget and were cranked out very quickly by a small team of writers, voiceover artists and animators with solid day jobs in radio and TV. They were all seasoned pros, some dating back to the days of classic radio, who worked on the show after hours as a way of letting off a little steam and tossing around a few cynical, subversive  cultural jabs their day jobs wouldn’t allow. The show was created originally by animator Fred Crippen  (who went on to work on some pretty dreadful crap like the Extreme Ghostbusters  and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) and Ken Snyder, an ad exec who moved over into producing cartoons. They brought in a remarkable team of voice talent and comedy writers, including Gene Moss (the voice of Smokey the Bear) Jim Thurmam (who did a lot of kids shows including Sesame Street), Dick Beals (the original voice of Gumby), and the great Gary Owens, a drive-time deejay in LA who would get national recognition soon enough as the on-screen announcer for Laugh-In. Although they would all get specific credits in the end (Crippen as director, Moss as a writer) it was a communal effort, in which everyone contributed to the writing, and everyone, even the executive producer, did a few of the voices. Apart from the regular crew, careful listeners might also catch a few uncredited guest appearances by some surprisingly big names (I’m told Sinatra and Dean Martin appear in an episode, but I’m still looking for that one). Owens was the star, though, as his ability to read the most ridiculous lines in a dramatic deadpan made him the perfect Roger Ramjet. Together they made 156 episodes (about 150 still exist), which were sold directly into syndication in ‘65 as half hour shows, each containing three unconnected adventures. I can’t say as I’m exactly sure who they thought their target audience was at the time, except maybe each other.

Much like William Conrad in Bullwinkle, each show opened with our narrator, Steve Allen alum Dave Ketchum, setting the mood and the scene (“In today’s depressing episode,” he’d begin with dramatic enthusiasm, or maybe it was an “existentialist episode,” “phlegmatic episode,” “rickety episode,”  “hairy episode,” or “ethnic episode”). Then we’re out of the gate at a breakneck pace, with a flurry of gags coming from every direction. “Ramjet rode into Boot Hill,” we’re told,  “where the men were men and the women were men, which can get pretty old after awhile.”

While none of the shows are connected, there are a few recurring characters and locations worth remembering: Roger hails from Lompoc, an actual California town (“where nothing ever happens, and seldom does”) and  takes his orders from General G.I. Brassbottom, a no nonsense military man who “hadn’t had an original idea since he was a civilian.” He’s also assisted by Yank, Doodle, Dan, and Dee, the unusually chubby  kids who make up the American Eagle squadron. Like Roger, all the members of the squadron wear their white jumpsuits and flight helmets at all times (Roger even wears his helmet on dates), and in true superhero sidekick fashion, their primary job is to get Roger out of scrapes and make sure his drugs are handy. 

That’s one little detail more than a few casual viewers have taken umbrage with. Roger, see, is a pretty hapless character most of the time, but he repeatedly saves the world thanks to a little help from his Proton Energy Pills (PEP), which take five seconds to kick in, then give him the strength of 20 A-Bombs for 20 seconds. Modern viewers seem a little uncomfortable with the idea of a superhero gulping amphetamines in order to function, but all I can say is, well, it was a different time, and hey, it worked for Roger and Elvis both.

The proton energy pills come in handy when dealing with his arch-nemesis Noodles Romanoff, the short, trench coat and fedora wearing head of N.A.S.T.Y. (the National Association of Spies, Traitors, and Yahoos). Romanoff may not have a Natasha, but he does have a gang of cronies and thugs who all mumble in unison (save for one, who can’t seem to get the rhythm). 

Along with Romanoff and his gang, Roger also has to contend with some lanky alien robots, the Solenoids (voiced by executive priducer Ken Snyder), and their repeated efforts to invade the planet in assorted ridiculous ways (in one episode, they begin kidnapping all the Miss America contestants, who “were disappearing faster than co-eds at a Dartmouth weekend.”)

When not saving the world, Roger found himself competing with the smarmy hotshot test pilot Lance Crossfire (who sounds an awful lot like burt Lancaster) for the affections of Lotta Love, the fickle Southern belle with a taste for the finer things in life.

Then there are the adventures themselves. Some seem standard superhero fare, but only to a point. Earth is besieged by flying saucer attacks (sort of). Roger’s hometown is terrorized by a werewolf (sort of). Roger plays tennis with a kangaroo, or becomes the first man to surf in space,  or, in a personal favorite, attempts to stop the flow of bootleg comic books into America’s drug stores.

Actually, there’s an interesting moment in that one that revealed just how subtle you could be even with animation this unsophisticated. Okay, so Noodles Romanoff, see, is replacing real comics in drug store racks with bootlegs in which popular superheroes are humiliated, all in an effort to destroy the morale of America’s children. After Brassbottom shows Roger a few examples (the issues include “Superman Gets Beat Up by a Chicken!” and “Ratman Stubs His Toe!”) he explains that if this sort of thing continues, “America’s kids won’t have anyone to look up to except YOU, Ramjet.” Then, for just an instant in that crude and jerky style, Roger cuts his eyes toward the camera, revealing in that moment everything we needed to know, namely that it’s what he’s always wanted.

Thirty years on and that still sticks with me.

In the end, though, the characters and storylines are secondary at best In Roger Ramjet. At heart it’s  a matter of trying to keep up with all the lightning-quick  jokes and wordplay, the non-sequiturs and references. In the five minute span of one cowboy-themed episode I counted nods to at least seven classic Western films, from High Noon to She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, and I suspect I missed a few. It really is such a dizzying blur of dialogue and bad puns and cultural references, sometimes, christ, even just references to old jokes that take the form of bad puns (“Waiter, there’s a spy in my soup” or “how many angels can swim in the head of a beer?”), that absurd as it all is, repeated viewings are a necessity to catch everything. It’s a bit like having the complete contents of an issue of MAD magazine jammed onto a single page. It can make your head hurt after a while, but it’s worth it. Whether the density and the pace make it better or worse for stoner viewing is something, I guess, each stoner will need to answer for him or herself. Lots of bright colors, though.

In 1965 there was nothing new about making cartoons with adult sensibilities in mind. Betty Boop and Bugs Bunny were made to be shown as short subjects to largely adult audiences. Jay Ward’s cartoons a few decades down the line were near-revolutionary for smuggling hip, subversive political humor into what had become an exclusively child-friendly format. What made Roger Ramjet so radical was it’s blend of ‘30s radio style with mid-’60s cynicism, as well as its foreshadowing of our shrinking attention spans, a hyper-condensed proton pill of comedy and commentary disguised as just another dumb, low-rent superhero cartoon. Although it’s barely remembered today, its influence is still evident in most any subversive animated show you can name, even if they’ve slowed things down a bit.

by Jim Knipfel

[jayrantsaboutstuff]

We Happy Few <3

I know I normally cover like 3/4 games per post but this one I felt needed it’s own post.

All I can say is what a fucking game. The whole community takes “Joy” pills to keep them happy and blissfully unaware, if you don’t take them, they don’t like you, if you dress wrong in certain areas they’re coming for you, you must craft, salvage, loot and fight. So many different ways you can play through. The main story is split into 3 in each of the 3 you cover the same time period but from another perspective and each different character has different abilities and specialities. The story is immersive and thought provoking and the fact that it’s British based really drew me in. I haven’t been this invested in a video game since I first purchased Fallout New Vegas or Bioshock, which are fitting games to mention for the style of playing.

Not only that! They have 3 DLC’s which you can purchase together as a season pass, If you like story telling then I highly recommend this, each of the different DLC’s tells a different story of what happens to some of Wellington wells other main characters each with their own different styles of playing.

In the first DLC we play as Roger, one half of the couple who work with Dr. Faraday, and they’re on the hunt to find her after she vanishes through a portal, they uncover an underground fortress harboring alien robots. Roger arms himself with a ray gun and assorted strange weapons to battle through to locate Dr. Faraday and understand what is going on. No need for crafting, eating or sleeping, just focus purely on the mission.

This second installation is an interesting concept. Take control of Wellington Wells musical legend Nick Lightbearer as his drug addled benders lead him through losing hours of his life and waking up in precarious situations, such as being covered in blood. Everything that was detrimental to a normal character are what fuel Nick to keep going, enjoy Scotch and Joy pills galore as you utilize your guitar as a tool and a weapon to shred and melt faces.

Finally, the last installment in the series. As the daughter of the infamous General Byng, Victoria has been in denial and very heavy handed on the Joy pills, but after a visit from someone in the main game she finds herself putting things together that she was once blocking out, use her whip to deal with your enemies from long range, electric dart gun to adjust controls, sail across the rooftops to avoid what is roaming what is now left of Wellington Wells and find out where this bizarre story ends.

[starrspice]

Does human Zim have a pak? And why?

He does but it isn’t what you’re probably thinking

Like I said, Zim is an inventor and specializes in robotics and mechanics.  His P.A.K. is short for Portable Assorted Kinetics and is a high tech backpack made to make school life easier. 

Its still a very rough prototype that he’s been working to perfect for years   

It has some of the basic functions like in the show (such as flashlights and a little tablet) but the more  experimental functions like his sorting system and spider legs are still very rough around the edges

He wants to make a backpack that can sort and organize papers/homework and school work, and with a single switch, pull out the materials you need for the next course.   And you ma be wondering where the Kinetics comes in,  well thats in the  straps!  Through a set of small touch sensors in the straps, based on the motions zim does on his straps, the PAK reacts with the appropriate function

for example, if he makes a zig zag motion with his thumb, it pulls out his textbooks for him with a robotic arm 

this is the big reason Dib is so convinced zim is an alien, because the creation and function of the PAK is so unconvential and strange that Dib truly believes it to be otherworldly tech  (not to mention Zim has a lot of doodles and stuff of his favorite Band THe IRKEN EMPIRE  and his channel logo and name INVADER ZIM that it wasn’t super far fetched of an assumption, as a few other kids suspected Zim wasn’t quite what he seemed)

[spacebookettes]

Unstable Lady

Retirement homes are better now. Now the robots assist. Endless Gaga dancing queens, the robots keep the people young.

Unstable Lady had trouble getting about, the Walky Walky electronic leg braces kept her independent. Though hers had little bells on. Tinkling little sounds could be heard slowly moving around the Home. The tinkling little sound meant you had to be alert, if you didn’t want to succumb. In the office the assistants heard the familiar tinkling and all looked around. The tinkling stopped and someone had not come into view. The faces looked at each other and sighed a little. An assistant went to look. Nothing. No one in the corridor. The air ducting above them creaked. The assistant got the ladders, popped the vent door in the ducting and had a look. Nothing. Their head torch only saw emptiness. They heard a little tinkling below them. The assistant climbed down. Nothing.

At lunch the robots brought around the various delights. The assistants kept looking over to Unstable Lady. She ate alone, with her back to everyone. An occasional tinkling took attentions away from their food.

As the Unstable Lady walked away from the luncheon. She glanced at the little dents, burn marks and splatterings that littered the bright hallways and corridors. Each a little shrine to past ‘achievements’. They had taken Unstable Lady's possessions, her little toolbox and assortment of gizmos, bits of string, old tubing that sort of thing. Younger she had collected all kinds of useful objects. Only a few left hidden.

A piece of funneled plastic was one of them. She liked to use it to project little tinklings around corners. Unstable Lady kept fruit stalks she could still expertly curve through the air. Some of the people believed the home was infested. Only some of the people. No longer any salt pots or little sachets. Balls weren’t allowed anymore, POP. The robots had been replaced with more robust ones... these still had some ‘achievements.'

Unstable Lady was miserable. She snapped a giant glow stick and shoved it up her nose. A robot hand retrieved it and patted Unstable Lady on the head.

Unstable Lady had a few regrets in her cruelty.. even for her she felt she had gone too far on occasion. The pangs of regret stayed with her.

Unstable Lady had resisted all taming medication. They’d tried the lot as well. “is she psychotic”

Someone played Rammstein in their room. Wild tinkling.

The End

By Peter Stringer

Rasputin

 

Rasputin is still alive they say. He is and he lives in Cheshire, for the cheese.

He seems to have made himself immortal somehow accidentally.

“You’re intolerant to dairy"

‘MILK, I made myself invulnerable to all toxins’

“yes, but, I’m afraid your bowel can’t tolerate dairy anymore... you’ll  be fine if you switch to soya milk... organic soya milk, no horrible GMOs... massive amounts of gmo pollen, humanity had no business introducing into an already strained earthly eco system.”

The doctor started to leave, she looked back... “at least the native people’s investment in green technology saved the day, the fidget droids and such. No need for chemicals now.”

She looked back a second time... “of course they’ve got the nukes now.”

 

By Peter Stringer

 

Space girls

A mission to Pluto. A mission that goes missing some where around the orbit of Jupiter.

“Where are we” all the shuttles systems were black, no light anywhere. “Is everyone ok" the five space girls all checked in. The lights and flashing buttons of the shuttle all came back to life. The space girls all looked out of the command module windows. Total blackness. No stars.

A globule of liquid moved slowly across the windows. The Space Girls all got close to the window to watch. They were reflected in the liquid ball. The reflections winked back. The Space Girls all drew backwards shocked inhaling. They all watched the liquid disappear beyond the window. “check all the instruments for position and orientation” one of them checked and rechecked their control panel. Nothing. No readings. “try the thrusters". one of them flipped the relevant switches. No inertia. The thrusters worked, there was just no apparent movement. The command module stopped shaking as the Space Girl flipped back the switches. One of the Space Girls dropped to the floor, dead.

The four Space Girls had checked the whole shuttle craft. They tried every piece of scientific equipment on board to see if they could learn just anything. Nothing. They ate some of the nourishing space goo packets. It was tasteless. They had enough food and water for months.

The four Space Girls sat for hours losing track of all space and time. The command module was silent. Someone was keeping an eye on the windows for signs of anything. A space walk, all that was left.

The short straw suited up. They glanced and stared at the logo of the Space Girl Missions; it’s looping white rings and central flashing green star. The symbol she had been so proud to be representing. Next to it a sponsor advertisement for Red Space Dew. Had it always been the sponsor; an anti deja vu came over her. The trivial advertisment seemed alien to her, new. Had it always been there.

The hatch doors silently opened. The Space Girl looked out into the blackness. A gloved hand reached out beyond the hatch doors. Nothing. Nothing changed. She shifted her body closer to the void. A space boot stepped out onto the hull of the space shuttle. She wasn’t floating, there was gravity. It felt like Earth gravity. Space Girl slipped falling along around the hull of the shuttle. Falling around it’s gravity. The only gravity in existence was the ship. She kept falling. External equipment broke off of the hull and joined Space Girl falling around and around. She looked desperately for the hatch opening. It’s central to the science module next to the spectrum sensors; they had broken off and were clattering somewhere near her. “ok" she shuffled her suited body to a central pathway on the module. Wildly trying for anything that felt like a gap. Something hooked around space girls arm. An antenna or some broken attachment and she jolted to a stop. Half a leg inside the hatchway.

Back on the ship Short Straw told them there was nothing in existence out there. Only them and the shuttle. Someone inhaled quickly and pointed toward the hatch window. A globule of liquid slowly floated across. They dare not look too closely.

The clattering equipment falling around the outside of the space shuttle was constant. The four Space Girls all had noise cancelling headsets on.

The solar interweb was offline. No connection to Earth. No SpaceTube. No SpaceGram. No SpaceTweet. Everything on the solar cloud, so no music. No pics. No video. Through the weeks the Space Girls got to know each other over the microphones of the headsets. Each sentence spoken with an obnoxious background clattering. Short Straw, they decided was the luckiest, even with her outside encounter.

Weeks later. They had tried the thrusters in all directions, full thrust. Full thrust for days. Random thruster directions. Spinning thrusters. Sudden reverse thrusters. Nothing. All signals had been sent out into the void.

They were putting on a play. Each Space Girl had to create her own comedy show. Once a week. One of them was impersonating some future celebrity to roaring laughter, at the front of the command module. The laughter stopped, a massive sphere of liquid undulated across the windows. The back of the impersonator reflected. The reflection dropped to the floor. The impersonator didn’t; she dare not move looking behind her at the three other faces and no reflection of herself. The liquid disappeared beyond the window.

Two days later the void was full of liquid globules. Giant and small. All manner of winkings and death scenes was being reflected back at the four Space Girls. They moved to a part of the shuttle with no windows.

The Space Girls didn’t want to put on anymore stand-up. The things they’d seen reflected back from the void would finish most people. They had rationed the food so far over the weeks. The Space Girls had a feast. Full bellies the ship started to shake. Short Straw got to the piloting controls first. Beyond the windows the liquid was swirling and merging, streaming in all directions. The shuttle had thrust. Short Straw could control the direction. The liquid was flying apart in all directions. A bright light was in front of them, growing bigger. Noise came from the cabin speakers. They took off their headsets to listen. ‘Girl look at that body, girl look at that body, girl look at that body, I work out, girl look at that body, girl look at that body, girl look at that body...I'm sexy and i know it'

Jupiter came into view. The liquid disappeared into the star studded space-scape. They all danced and sang with smiles and laughter. ‘wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle, yeah.

The End

By Peter Stringer

The Other Woman

“we should work on other projects”

The man’s words echoed around Wednesday.

They had been partners, co-workers. A small business of stories. The man had been emotionally disturbed at the beginning of both of their relationships. A man who made no sense, whirling away from functional adulthood. Bonsai trees helped. The Other Woman helped more.

The man loved his Significant Other. But perhaps two more, secret, partnerships and he knew the Other Woman would wait; very patiently... Almost.

He loved the nakedness, with both: he felt free. He only felt free clothed... with his Significant Other. He felt massive colleague respect for the Other Woman. Their first partnership had been cyber trees. The meeting of two non-professional minds. She good at the branches, he good at the leaves. They both knew they wanted nakedness. The first time next to the mulch. He knew the Other Woman would fall. He knew he could keep her... and he knew that made him rotten.

He thought the Other Woman was a thinker, she wanted to save the world and believed her little piece of it might. He too believed in her. But he was one of the monsters, he knew, she feared. If life were a film he would have slowly fallen in love with the Other Woman.

The man wanted to be king and felt a spark of it when he met the Other Woman. They were massively successful. She did the coding, he did the wiring. The Other Woman saved him, he knew she knew it.

He was in charge of the money, she was in charge of the lasers. That was his mistake.

He wasn't so rotten that he’d fiddle the money in his favour. In fact he did fiddle the money, fiddled himself in her favour. It helped with the knowledge that he’d always love the Significant Other. The man and the Other Woman worked hard, long into the night... there was so much to do. She came up with the bigger concepts, he ordered the equipment.

The Other Woman, he knew, her patience was running out.

He was the thinker, she was becoming a monster.

He had fiddled the finances, she had fiddled the equipment.

The End

By Peter Stringer

[aion-rsa]

Top New Science Fiction Books in April 2021

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Science fiction has the power to take us away—to escape, to make us reflect back on our own world in challenging ways, to fill us with awe and wonder about the beauties of the universe. There are so many science fiction books out there worth your time, but we only have room to recommend a few. Here are some of the science fiction books we’re most looking forward to in April 2021…

Top New Science Fiction Books in April 2021

The Galaxy and the Ground Within by Becky Chambers

Type: Novel Publisher: Harper Voyager Release date: April 20 Den of Geek says: Ever since her groundbreaking A Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, Chambers has been a powerful voice in science fiction. Colorful, creative aliens inhabit a galaxy sparkling with healing and love, “soft” science fiction in the online sense that is also bursting with ideas and thoughtful characterization.

Publisher’s summary: Return to the sprawling, Hugo Award-winning universe of the Galactic Commons to explore another corner of the cosmos—one often mentioned, but not yet explored—in this absorbing entry in the Wayfarers series, which blends heart-warming characters and imaginative adventure. With no water, no air, and no native life, the planet Gora is unremarkable. The only thing it has going for it is a chance proximity to more popular worlds, making it a decent stopover for ships traveling between the wormholes that keep the Galactic Commons connected. If deep space is a highway, Gora is just your average truck stop.

At the Five-Hop One-Stop, long-haul spacers can stretch their legs (if they have legs, that is), and get fuel, transit permits, and assorted supplies. The Five-Hop is run by an enterprising alien and her sometimes helpful child, who work hard to provide a little piece of home to everyone passing through.

When a freak technological failure halts all traffic to and from Gora, three strangers—all different species with different aims—are thrown together at the Five-Hop. Grounded, with nothing to do but wait, the trio—an exiled artist with an appointment to keep, a cargo runner at a personal crossroads, and a mysterious individual doing her best to help those on the fringes—are compelled to confront where they’ve been, where they might go, and what they are, or could be, to each other.

Buy The Galaxy and the Ground Within by Becky Chambers.

Fugitive Telemetry by Martha Wells

Type: Novella Publisher: Tordotcom Release date: April 27

Den of Geek says: Wells’ beloved Murderbot has become one of the most entertaining and must-see characters of today’s science fiction. The android with a reluctant heart is not to be missed. Wells rarely fails to be entertaining.

Publisher’s summary: Having captured the hearts of readers across the globe (Annalee Newitz says it’s “one of the most humane portraits of a nonhuman I’ve ever read”) Murderbot has also established Martha Wells as one of the great SF writers of today.

No, I didn’t kill the dead human. If I had, I wouldn’t dump the body in the station mall.

When Murderbot discovers a dead body on Preservation Station, it knows it is going to have to assist station security to determine who the body is (was), how they were killed (that should be relatively straightforward, at least), and why (because apparently that matters to a lot of people―who knew?) 

Yes, the unthinkable is about to happen: Murderbot must voluntarily speak to humans!

Again!

Buy Fugitive Telemetry by Martha Wells.

Hummingbird Salamander by Jeff Vandermeer

Type: Novel Publisher: MCD Release date: April 6

Den of Geek says: This eco-thriller from the author of Annihilation trades the weird setting for a more prosaic but just as mysterious chase.

Publisher’s summary: Security consultant “Jane Smith” receives an envelope with a key to a storage unit that holds a taxidermied hummingbird and clues leading her to a taxidermied salamander. Silvina, the dead woman who left the note, is a reputed ecoterrorist and the daughter of an Argentine industrialist. By taking the hummingbird from the storage unit, Jane sets in motion a series of events that quickly spin beyond her control. Soon, Jane and her family are in danger, with few allies to help her make sense of the true scope of the peril. Is the only way to safety to follow in Silvina’s footsteps? Is it too late to stop? As she desperately seeks answers about why Silvina contacted her, time is running out—for her and possibly for the world. Hummingbird Salamander is Jeff VanderMeer at his brilliant, cinematic best, wrapping profound questions about climate change, identity, and the world we live in into a tightly plotted thriller full of unexpected twists and elaborate conspiracy. 

Buy Hummingbird Salamander by Jeff Vandermeer.

Top New Science Fiction Books in March 2021

Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

Type: Novel Publisher: Knopf Release date: March 2 Den of Geek says: Nobel Prize winner Kazuo Ishiguro is known for his literary fiction like The Remains of the Day and high-brow science fiction like Never Let Me Go. His newest tackles robot sapience in a story sure to be as much about the human heart as about machines.

Publisher’s Summary: Klara and the Sun, the first novel by Kazuo Ishiguro since he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, tells the story of Klara, an Artificial Friend with outstanding observational qualities, who, from her place in the store, watches carefully the behavior of those who come in to browse, and of those who pass on the street outside. She remains hopeful that a customer will soon choose her.

Klara and the Sun is a thrilling book that offers a look at our changing world through the eyes of an unforgettable narrator, and one that explores the fundamental question: what does it mean to love?

Buy Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro.

We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep by Andrew Kelly Stewart

Type: Novel Publisher: Tor.com Release date: March 9 Den of Geek says: Any comparison to A Canticle for Leibowitz goes pretty far here. This claustrophobic thriller with post-apocalyptic cult elements sounds intense and inventive. Publisher’s Summary: A Canticle for Leibowitz meets The Hunt for Red October in We Shall Sing a Song into the Deep, a lyrical and page-turning coming-of-age exploration of duty, belief, and the post-apocalypse from breakout newcomer Andrew Kelly Stewart.

Remy is a Chorister, rescued from the surface world and raised to sing in a choir of young boys. Remy is part of a strange crew who control the Leviathan, an aging nuclear submarine, that bears a sacred mission: to trigger the Second Coming when the time is right.

But Remy has a secret too―she’s the submarine’s only girl. Gifted with the missile’s launch key by theLeviathan’s dying caplain, she swears to keep it safe. Safety, however, is not the priority of the new caplain, who has his own ideas about the mission. When a surface-dweller is captured during a raid, Remy’s faith becomes completely overturned. Now, her last judgement may transform the fate of everything.

Buy We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep by Andrew Kelly Stewart.

A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine

Type: Novel Publisher: Tor Books Release date: March 2 Den of Geek says: Martine’s previous novel brought us to a world of poetry, AI, body-sharing, and high-stakes politics. The nascent rebellion against the Teixcalaanli empire takes a back seat as alien invaders threaten the empire and its colonies in the sequel. Publisher’s Summary: A Desolation Called Peace is the spectacular space opera sequel to Arkady Martine’s genre-reinventing, Hugo Award-winning debut, A Memory Called Empire.

An alien armada lurks on the edges of Teixcalaanli space. No one can communicate with it, no one can destroy it, and Fleet Captain Nine Hibiscus is running out of options. 

In a desperate attempt at diplomacy with the mysterious invaders, the fleet captain has sent for a diplomatic envoy. Now Mahit Dzmare and Three Seagrass―still reeling from the recent upheaval in the Empire―face the impossible task of trying to communicate with a hostile entity. 

Their failure will guarantee millions of deaths in an endless war. Their success might prevent Teixcalaan’s destruction―and allow the empire to continue its rapacious expansion. 

Or it might create something far stranger . . .

Buy A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine.

Top New Science Fiction Books in February 2021

Sun-Daughters, Sea-Daughters by Aimee Ogden

Type: Novel Publisher: Tor.com Release date: Feb. 23

Den of Geek says: Space mermaids make for an automatically charming concept, as do the twists and turns (an witchy romance?) on the classic story. Publisher’s summary: One woman will travel to the stars and beyond to save her beloved in this lyrical space opera that reimagines The Little Mermaid.

Gene-edited human clans have scattered throughout the galaxy, adapting themselves to environments as severe as the desert and the sea. Atuale, the daughter of a Sea-Clan lord, sparked a war by choosing her land-dwelling love and rejecting her place among her people. Now her husband and his clan are dying of a virulent plague, and Atuale’s sole hope for finding a cure is to travel off-planet. The one person she can turn to for help is the black-market mercenary known as the World Witch―and Atuale’s former lover. Time, politics, bureaucracy, and her own conflicted desires stand between Atuale and the hope for her adopted clan.

Buy Sun-Daughters, Sea-Daughters by Aimee Ogden.

The Loosening Skin by Aliya Whiteley

Type: Novel Publisher: Titan Books Release date: Feb. 23 Den of Geek says: Science fiction allows us to explore how biology effects culture. Like Early Riser by Jasper Fforde, an absurdist novel that explores a world where humans hibernate, The Loosening Skin takes one biological concept (humans who shed) and wraps a mystery around it. Publisher’s summary: Rose Allington is a bodyguard for celebrities, and she suffers from a rare disease. Her moults come quickly, changing everything about her life, who she is, who she loves, who she trusts.

In a world where people shed their skin, it’s a fact of life that we move on and cast off the attachments of our old life. But those memories of love can be touched – and bought – if you know the right people.

Rose’s former client, superstar actor Max Black, is hooked on Suscutin, a new wonderdrug that prevents the moult. Max knows his skins are priceless, and moulting could cost him his career. 

When one of his skins is stolen, and the theft is an inside job, Max needs the best who ever worked for him – even if she’s not the same person.

The Loosening Skin by Aliya Whiteley.

A History of What Comes Next by Sylvain Neuvel

Type: Novel Publisher: Tor.com Release date: Feb. 2 Den of Geek says: Sylvain Neuvel wowed with the Themis Files series, a fast-paced mech thriller with adventure, heart, and body horror. An alternate look at the space race turns into sharp science fiction in the first book in his new series.

Publisher’s summary: Showing that truth is stranger than fiction, Sylvain Neuvel weaves a sci-fi thriller reminiscent of Blake Crouch and Andy Weir, blending a fast moving, darkly satirical look at 1940s rocketry with an exploration of the amorality of progress and the nature of violence in A History of What Comes Next.

Always run, never fight.  Preserve the knowledge. Survive at all costs. Take them to the stars.

Over 99 identical generations, Mia’s family has shaped human history to push them to the stars, making brutal, wrenching choices and sacrificing countless lives. Her turn comes at the dawn of the age of rocketry. Her mission: to lure Wernher Von Braun away from the Nazi party and into the American rocket program, and secure the future of the space race. 

But Mia’s family is not the only group pushing the levers of history: an even more ruthless enemy lurks behind the scenes.

A darkly satirical first contact thriller, as seen through the eyes of the women who make progress possible and the men who are determined to stop them…

Buy A History of What Comes Next by Sylvain Neuvel.

Top New Science Fiction Books in January 2021

Remote Control by Nnedi Okorafor

Type: Novel Publisher: Tordotcom Release date: Jan. 19, 2021 Den of Geek says: Award-winning Nnedi Okorafor brings a mix of science fiction and fantasy with this unique take on the Grim Reaper. Publisher’s Summary: The day Fatima forgot her name, Death paid a visit. From hereon in she would be known as Sankofa­­—a name that meant nothing to anyone but her, the only tie to her family and her past.

Her touch is death, and with a glance a town can fall. And she walks—alone, except for her fox companion—searching for the object that came from the sky and gave itself to her when the meteors fell and when she was yet unchanged; searching for answers.

But is there a greater purpose for Sankofa, now that Death is her constant companion?

Buy Remote Control by Nnedi Okorafor.

Star Wars: Light of the Jedi

Type: Novel Publisher: Del Rey Release date: Jan. 5, 2021

Den of Geek says: One of the first books in the The High Republic series, it introduces the new era with the story of Jedi 200 years before the fall of the Republic. You’ll find no Skywalkers, Solos, or Palpatines here, but rather an ensemble of fun new galactic warrior-monks.

Publisher’s summary: Long before the First Order, before the Empire, before even The Phantom Menace . . . Jedi lit the way for the galaxy in The High Republic It is a golden age. Intrepid hyperspace scouts expand the reach of the Republic to the furthest stars, worlds flourish under the benevolent leadership of the Senate, and peace reigns, enforced by the wisdom and strength of the renowned order of Force users known as the Jedi. With the Jedi at the height of their power, the free citizens of the galaxy are confident in their ability to weather any storm But the even brightest light can cast a shadow, and some storms defy any preparation.

When a shocking catastrophe in hyperspace tears a ship to pieces, the flurry of shrapnel emerging from the disaster threatens an entire system. No sooner does the call for help go out than the Jedi race to the scene. The scope of the emergence, however, is enough to push even Jedi to their limit. As the sky breaks open and destruction rains down upon the peaceful alliance they helped to build, the Jedi must trust in the Force to see them through a day in which a single mistake could cost billions of lives.

Even as the Jedi battle valiantly against calamity, something truly deadly grows beyond the boundary of the Republic. The hyperspace disaster is far more sinister than the Jedi could ever suspect. A threat hides in the darkness, far from the light of the age, and harbors a secret that could strike fear into even a Jedi’s heart. Buy Star Wars: Light of the Jedi.

Persephone Station by Stina Leicht

Type: Novel Publisher: Gallery / Saga Press Release date: Jan. 5, 2021 Den of Geek says: Roguish space opera serves up escapism with a side of criminal glam. Publisher’s Summary: Hugo award–nominated author Stina Leicht has created a take on space opera for fans of The Mandalorian and Cowboy Bebop in this high-stakes adventure.

Persephone Station, a seemingly backwater planet that has largely been ignored by the United Republic of Worlds becomes the focus for the Serrao-Orlov Corporation as the planet has a few secrets the corporation tenaciously wants to exploit.

Rosie—owner of Monk’s Bar, in the corporate town of West Brynner, caters to wannabe criminals and rich Earther tourists, of a sort, at the front bar. However, exactly two types of people drank at Monk’s back bar: members of a rather exclusive criminal class and those who sought to employ them.

Angel—ex-marine and head of a semi-organized band of beneficent criminals, wayward assassins, and washed up mercenaries with a penchant for doing the honorable thing is asked to perform a job for Rosie. What this job reveals will effect Persephone and put Angel and her squad up against an army. Despite the odds, they are rearing for a fight with the Serrao-Orlov Corporation. For Angel, she knows that once honor is lost, there is no regaining it. That doesn’t mean she can’t damned well try.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Buy Persephone Station by Stina Leicht.

The post Top New Science Fiction Books in April 2021 appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3qpd96e

[bigfan-fanfic]

Wisdom, Warfare, and Useful Crafts (Son of Athena! Ironkid Headcanon)

Requested by anonymous for “ I just thought of a cool concept (idk if it’s any good actually). What about the reader being the son of Tony Stark as well as Athena? Like imagine the reader having the combined intelligence of Tony and the goddess of wisdom (as well war)”

Tony met her at a Stark Expo. He normally can’t stand the people who he meets at these things. Business execs looking to ambush him into deals. Screaming fans trying to touch his goatee.

But she was none of these things. She was staring at him during his presentation, but in a way that made him feel like she was judging his very thoughts. He found her afterwards, staring at a prototype Iron Man suit with her storm-grey eyes.

“Impressed?” he asked with a smirk, holding out his hand when she turned. “Tony Stark.”

She looks at him disdainfully. “Not particularly. I’ve been around the block a few times. I’ve seen a lot more done with a lot less.”

“What’s your name, miss?”

“Athena. Athena Pallas.”

“Palace?”

“Pallas.”

“What is that, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She smirks, and Tony feels electricity surging through his soul. “It’s Greek, in fact.”

Somehow he wheedles a date out of the strange woman. It’s a match made in heaven. 

She’s wicked smart, and immediately understands any concept thrown at her.

Tony normally is a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy, but it’s different with Athena. There’s desire, but a desire to be around her. It’s a meeting of the minds.

And eventually she vanishes without a trace. Tony has Pepper try and track her down, but it’s as if she never existed, like Athena was only ever the goddess of wisdom from Greek myths.

But then she appears once more. And Tony knows something’s weird because she’s dressed in full armor and riding in a chariot pulled by giant owls and carrying a bundle in her arms.

And after she explains herself, she gives the bundle to Tony, and he finds himself enthralled with the little baby inside. You.

“Our son,” she says. “He will be a great man, but it will be up to you to teach him to be a good one. Teach him well, Tony.”

Tony’s still not sure how he explained it to Pepper.

He was so unprepared for you, but later he’ll come to wonder if anyone could really be prepared for a kid like you.

When he was little, they labeled him a genius and wunderkind by the time he was out of diapers. You... there was an intelligence in your gaze that had no business being in a newborn’s eyes.

By the time you can talk, it seems like you’ve had a million ideas, and get frustrated at your inability to communicate them.

Tony indulges you - he doesn’t care what the parenting sites he’s researched say about giving you a normal childhood - your mom’s a freaking goddess, after all. Normal, he doesn’t care. You happy is what he wants.

So if you want to wander into the workshop and give him mechanical pointers and draw up technical blueprints on his white boards, go ahead.

You wanna alter the architectural plans for Stark Technologies facilities so that they’re more environmentally-friendly? Have at it, kid!

You wanna ask him to develop an e-textile for you so you can personally weave a bulletproof vest that can redistribute kinetic energy and send bullets back at their source? He won’t sleep until he’s found the best possible material for his little genius.

He’s also set a small robot to exterminate any bugs that attempt to enter your home - because you’re deathly afraid of spiders and in the absence of spiders, other bugs try to enter. (Yes, it will be difficult when you meet Spider-Man)

Maybe you don’t feel like using that big brain of yours today? All you need to do is ask, and he’ll take the day off to spend it with you. Often, this will lead to you both spending all night in the lab and inventing until Pepper makes Tony make you go to bed.

You don’t go to school, because not only are you in danger of monsters because you are a powerful demigod, but because you are in danger from mortals because you are Tony Stark’s son. And also because you’re so smart, the only possible teacher for you is JARVIS, who handles your education, tailoring it to your specific needs.

Tony’s loathe to let you go to Camp Half-Blood, but allows it on the condition that during the rest of the year, he gets you. He misses you terribly when you’re gone, but knows he can’t always keep you all to himself.

You, of course, help him with the Avengers

It’s a bit disconcerting for him how you excel in battle tactics and strategy at such a young age. But you become the best tactician, even better than Steve and Natasha.

“You been teaching the kid military strategy, Stark?”

“No. I think he gets it from his mother.”

“Who’s his mother?” Steve asks.

“Greek goddess of wisdom.” Tony says, blandly.

Steve honestly isn’t surprised. He has a threshold of weirdness, and it’s permanently at 100%

Thor immediately senses that you are not completely mortal and makes it his duty to protect you from particularly vicious monsters. Occasionally you’ll see a column of rainbow light in the distance as Thor descends to destroy a monster that might head in your direction. Heimdall has been instructed to turn an eye in your direction occasionally to make sure you’re safe.

Banner gets used to the three of you being in the lab together. And teaching him how to weave has significantly improved his ability to stay calm. Tony’s terrible at it, which also gives Banner the opportunity to tease him.

And yes, Nick Fury does consider recruiting the Greek gods into the Avengers.

During the Battle of New York, you called in Camp Half-Blood to help defend Olympus, and they arrived. While Cap directed the Avengers, you directed the campers, Party Ponies, assorted Amazons, and unfortunate vacationing Roman demigods, who swarmed the Chitauri army with the mundane metal weapon edges you designed, which attached to their Celestial bronze swords, spears and arrows, allowing them to damage the alien force.

And then they all disappeared after the battle, making sure the media didn’t notice a group of kids, women warriors, and horse-people with weapons trudging around New York. And you refused to tell Fury where they came from, earning a high-five from your dad.

And finally, you design your own suit, which takes inspiration from Ancient Greek armor while incorporating the full body design your father uses.

Imagine an Iron man suit with one of those plumes Greek armor has, then imagine it even awesomer

It’s only a pet project you and your dad have plans to someday make. But one day you two walk into the lab and it’s waiting there, perfect, to your exact specifications, with one difference. This one comes equipped with a spear made from Celestial bronze-and-vibranium alloy painted red and gold to match your and your father’s suits. There’s a note taped to it, neat and precise. It’s on stationery, with an owl-symbol letterhead. Written in crisp grey script are seven little words.

I am proud of you, my son.

[ad1ostoreador]

>> View the mirthhive mirror...

(...or, a purposeful encounter between @fiduspawn-master and @ad1ostoreador, featuring several counts of awkwardness, an emotional shock, a missing moon, and at least one dragon.)

ad1ostoreador: It didn't take much preparation, for Tavros to be ready to go.  A poncho-like cloak, thrown over his folded wings, a small spare bladeleaf-woven basket hooked over one arm, filled with crumbly orange bits of bark chocolate, and an uncertain scratch of the back of his head, before he was inspecting his wrist transportalizer and keying in the right coordinates.

The transportalizer went vworp, with its usual disorienting stutter, and he lifted a hand in greeting, as he appeared on the other side and gave his head a tiny shake to rebalance himself.  "Uh.... hey?"

It was hard, sometimes, to know just how timelines would diverge, and what quirks would strike a passer-by as strange... but the amount of color he was wearing, between the poncho and his loose, patterned pants, would likely be quite odd on any Imperial Alternia, especially for a lowblood.  The fact that he was stubbornly shoeless, maybe, too, but after sweeps of feeling nothing, he was largely uninterested in having anything between his feet and any possible source of sensation, and running around on a beach and through woods all the time for the past months had done quite a lot to toughen them up, post-pupation.  Adult pupation itself had left him well over six feet tall, with hide darker than wiggler-gray, both from frequent sun (freckling included) and from chitin reinforcing it, and his eyes had long since filled in bronze. His hair was a bit shaggy on the sides of his mohawk, in the absence of a recent shave, and showed hints of lighter bronze in streaks through the black, there.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros spent the few minutes it would take for the other Tavros to arrive nervously tidying things around his hive. He was naturally a very fastidious troll, but it was a hard thing to keep up all the time in his condition. He was putting his dishes away when he heard the noise he now recognized as a visitor appearing just outside his hive.

The wind was still racing in from the sea, its constant whisper joined by the creaking of the windmill turning high above and the roar of the waves crashing against the cliffs. A few hop and cluckbeasts that had scattered in fear at the strange phenomenon were starting to wander back as Tavros opened the door to greet--

Oh man. He looked up at the familiar, unfamiliar figure standing in front of his hive. It was like looking in a mirthhive mirror. Seeing an adult was still somewhat alarming in and of itself, (even though he was basically an adult himself) And seeing one that was post molt was even more wild, not to mention one that was kind of him...

This might actually be weirder than meeting Bull...

He was staring- "Uhhhhh, H-hi!" He raised a hand in a stiff, awkward wave. "Do you, Want to come in?" that wasn't a great question.

ad1ostoreador: The location might have been starkly different from his own long-ago hive, but the creaking of the windmill was familiar, bone-deep, and left him awash in a curious mix of nostalgia and wrong-footedness, mixed as it was with the alien smell of the sea.  The scent was somehow very different from the ocean he lived beside, at present... some difference in the blend of minerals, or in the things living and growing in it, and it took Tavros a moment to remember how to answer, with his communing-sense flickering out automatically to touch and catalog beasts he hadn't encountered in sweeps on end.

"Um...." A slow blink, and then an awkward little grin, as he faced the other troll.  "Yeah, sorry... I just... forgot what Alternia felt like.... It's been a... long time."  He lifted the basket a little, and moved nearer, but none too quickly.  Better to give his alternate room to steer clear of the doorway, first.  It was strange, too, how much smaller his wigglerhood hive felt than it once had, to him. He'd visited occasional memories of it, back in the dreambubbles, but none since he'd grown to his present size, and this was real, with a sense of weight and solidity around his horns that the bubbles had never really managed to achieve.

fiduspawn-master: Possibly the biggest visual difference was the quality of light. The pink moon above was not overshadowed by a green neighbor, having only its moonlet for company. It cast the world in softer, warmer hues. 

There was an impressive variety of local beasts in the area, including at least a dozen fairy bulls and an assortment of unfamiliar, synthetic beasts, fiduspawn or fakespawn presumably.

"Oh, You're fine! Take your time!" Tavros reassured him, deftly rolling back and to the side as he pulled the door open more for him. The doorframe was accommodatingly wide and a couple of the antlered hopbeasts slipped inside before the new guest had reached the door. 

Inside was one large open room, with a nutrition area to one side and many windows and low tables against the opposite wall. Half of them had the curtains drawn already, and there were wide paths around everything, and not a lot of chairs. 

"Uhm, The pot's in the kitchen, and, I can go grab the thing I made for Gamzee, If you, Uhh, Give me a second,,," Tav said from behind him, shutting the door carefully, mindful of critters slipping in or out.

There were two fairy bulls perching around the nutrition area, though one was weird and shiny and definitely a robot. Both of them jingled in alarm at the stranger and darted towards their ward to hover protectively around him. "Oh, Uhm, Sorry, They're still not used to other trolls being here, And, That being okay..." Tav apologized as he reached out to bring the flesh and blood lusus out of the air and into his lap, petting it soothingly.

ad1ostoreador: Honestly, he hadn't even registered the green moon's absence, perhaps assuming it was still beyond the horizon.  Tavros moved forward, stepping on through the door, and froze as his gaze landed on the living fairy bull, breath hitching as if he'd just been surprise-punched in the gut.

Right.  Of course Tink was alive, here.  Of course he was prepared for that.  (He wasn't.)

"....Yeah, of course they, uh... wouldn't..." Tavros murmured, a little weakly, and tore his eyes off the lusus who didn't recognize him, looking down at the basket he held.  "...Where should I, um... put this?" He struggled for a casual tone, swallowing.

fiduspawn-master: Tav's fingers brushed his own brow as he sent brief reassurance to the small lusi, both calming down immediately. "Oh, you can leave it in the kitchen, I'll be right back!" He pivoted and rolled off towards the back of the room and down a hallway, disappearing for a minute and leaving the other Tavros alone in the space. A hopbeast sniffed his foot curiously as some other critters moved about the room, including one's he'd made himself. There was a tank on one of the low tables where the colorful newest project was swimming around contentedly. 

Tavros would return a couple of minutes later, flanked by the two fairybulls and holding a small parcel wrapped in a scrap of blue gingham fabric. "Uhm, Here it is!"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros gave a small nod, not looking up, and took a deep breath or two as his counterpart rolled down the hall.  The hive layout was... partially the same, and partially not.  Definitely less cluttered than his own, at six sweeps, and it looked more... purposeful, somehow.  Widened, maybe, with more convenient paths to wheel through.

He moved into the nutrition-block area, and set the little basket on a counter, within easy reach of the edge.  The borrowed pot, he saw, and held awkwardly for a moment before remembering his sylladex--it wouldn't work, back home, but here, it made a decent place to stash things out of his graspers.  Then, the curious hopbeast got a gentle head-scritching, between the antlers.

When his alternate returned, he turned around and straightened up to accept the offered parcel, still not quite daring to look at either the fairy bull or the robotic version.  "Thanks... I'll, um, pass it on to him, and let him know..."

fiduspawn-master: There were a few low ramps in the nutrition area, in front of the counters and prongtrap and the crisprange so that they were reachable. Everything was otherwise uncomfortably low for an upright troll as tables had been modified for the hivedweller's convenience.

Tav held the parcel up to his guest, rolling back a bit once he'd taken it so he wouldn't have to crane his neck to look up at him. The normal fairy bull had alighted on the counter near the familiar stranger's elbow and was leaning over to carefully sniff him, its breath tickling his skin. 

"Yes, Okay, Uhm, Tell him I hope he gets better soon I guess..." He smoothed his hands anxiously over the thick blanket wrapped around his legs. "Uhhhh... Is this, Weird for you too?"

ad1ostoreador: "He's... Gamzee's good.  It's just... he's got a thing, right now, where he's... not wanting to go off-planet."  A thing that Tavros wasn't entirely ready to think too hard about, just yet, for assorted reasons. "I'll tell him, though..."

His fingers twitched and curled a little more by his side in an almost-flinch, where the fairy bull was sniffing his arm, and he looked over at a tinted window instead, nodding a couple of times, rapidly.  "...Yeah.  It's... pretty weird.  I can't, uh... actually remember the last time I met another... living version of us, face to face."  A weak smile.

"It's good, though... I'm glad."  It was a rare enough occasion that he thought it was pretty special.  Someone else who'd managed to survive the worst Alternia could throw at them, instead of ending up just another blank-eyed ghost of a dead kid no one really bothered to consider.  Tavros shifted his stance slightly, folded wings rustling under the poncho and skimming the floor behind his feet at their tips as he weighed the option of sitting down on a ramp against the logistics of trying to arrange his wings somewhere without knocking over or breaking anything important behind him.  "How are you, uh... doing, though? With... alts, and timelines, and everything..."

fiduspawn-master: Tav's brow pinched a bit with worry. "Uhm, Yeah, I think he mentioned some stuff to me... Yeah..." He didn't elaborate, it wasn't his place. He reached up awkwardly to rub the back of his neck as his alternate self agreed about the weirdness, blanching a bit when he mentioned 'living versions' "Oh... Oh man... You've seen-?" That sounded terrible, seeing his own corpse... "Uhm, Yeah I guess." He tried to return the smile, giving Tink a glance as they flew up to hover around the other Tavros' head, jingling softly.

His ears twitched as he herd the rustling of wings and noticed his guest fidgeting "Oh! Uhm, Do you want to sit down? I have a loungeplank!" He said, quickly backing up and spinning around to the other side of the big, open block. There was indeed a mostly unused loungeplank shoved back against the wall across from a row of windows, a skylight letting in the moonlight from above through a heavy tint. There was a screen on the third wall and another low table with a half dozen stacks of fiduspawn cards he'd been organizing, along with his old, beat up husktop. He quickly cleared a stack of host plushes off of the couch, dumping them off to one side for now and turning back towards his guest. "Oh, uhm, well... Its- Uhhhh." He broke eyecontact, hands coming together to twist the ring around one of his thumbs. "its... different... from normal..."

ad1ostoreador: "...Ghosts, and stuff, mostly. A little different from, uh... the type Aradia used to call up, though... in a place where they all sort of, um.... hung around and didn't remember they were dead, usually."  Or that he'd visited before.  Or much of anything, outside of whatever set of memories or pan misfirings they'd gotten hung up on going through the motions of repeating, over and over and over.

The offer of a loungeplank made him shrug slightly, rubbing at the back of his neck one-handed.  "Is it okay if I, uhh... pull it away from the wall a bit? I'll put it back, after..."  The ring on Tavros's thumb caught his eye, unfamiliar as the accessory was to him, but he didn't pry.  "...Yeah... it's definitely different, for sure."  It was still hard to look at Tink, and he couldn't bear communing with the lusus, at all.  He'd have thought four sweeps would dull the edges there, some.

fiduspawn-master: "Oh, Right, Wow..." He'd always thought ghosts were pretty spooky, and he'd only seen Aradia conjure them up once. He didn't really want to think about himself being... like that.

"Yeah! Of course! Whatever you need!" He replied quickly "Here!" 

He rolled over to one side of the loungeplank, grabbing the corner and bracing his other hand against the wall, pushing it forward a few feet pretty easily, if unevenly. 

"Uhm, Yeah, It's been... A lot... I think maybe I'm not dealing with it that great..." he mumbled, looking into the dark space behind the loungeplank as a trio of sleepy eyes blinked back at him. He rolled backwards to let the soothcoon waddle out from its nap spot.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros moved to heft the other end of the loungeplank, scooting it easily forward to leave clearance for his wings, and pausing to chirp a quiet greeting-noise at the soothcoon, with a touch of apology for disturbing it.

"I... think, probably, it would be hard for anyone to, uh... deal with it wonderfully, all things considered.  Even for those of us who played the game, because it was dumb and awful...  ....So... it's okay to be kind of... rattled, about it all, yeah?"  He trailed off, then carefully took a crooked seat on the loungeplank, wings draped over the back and down to the floor behind it at an angle.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros turned to situate himself on the other side of the table, his hands smoothing distractedly over the blanket wrapped around his legs again as he looked around the floor. "I'm not really sure if 'rattled' is the word that I would use, Or that even all of the crazy other timeline versions of people I knew are, Uhh, the thing that I'm not handling well..." he admitted, his fangs digging at his lower lip a little. "I mean, I think that I can just kind of accept that that's a thing, since, I've known for a sweep by now..."

The robotic fairy bull was still perched on the back of his chair while the other had landed on the back of the couch, directing a tiny moo in their guest's directions, the naturally affectionate creature demanding attention.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros worried at his own lip a little, with a fang, sneaking a glance toward the living fairy bull and twisting his own fingers together in his lap, slowly, until his knuckles paled.  "...No?  What part is, uh... messing with you, then?"

fiduspawn-master: The small lusus fluttered its eyelashes at him and mooed again, fluttering its wings with a little jingle as well, practically begging for a pet. 

"Uhhh.... It's, Probably not important... And, Also kind of hard to articulate. And, Maybe kind of terrible?" He winced as he bit his lip a little too hard, starting to fidget with the ring around his thumb again. "Sorry, You probably don't want to talk about this..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros took another deep, slightly shaky breath, and fought down any pathetic grub-noises before they could slip out, very carefully reaching up and giving the fairy bull a gentle pet.

"...I mean... it's not fair to you, if parts of all this are messing you up.  So... maybe if you can, uh, articulate at least some of it, you might feel kind of better?"

fiduspawn-master: They were ecstatic! Nuzzling his palm and licking his fingers as they jingled happily.

Tavros nearly mimicked his alter's shaky breath, his claws tapping against his ring "Uhm... I guess there are just, Some feelings I've been having, That, I'm not used to having..." he mumbles, shrugging slightly.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros stared into an indistinct spot somewhere near the middle of the floor while the lusus licked his fingers and nuzzled on his hand, his eyes gone a little bit glassy, but managed to keep his voice largely level, if somewhat quieter than usual.  "...I don't want to, um... assume things. About you, or feelings that happen to you... even if I kind of, uhh... suspect that maybe we had some of the same... problems, relating to that general, uh, area of experiences..."

fiduspawn-master: Well, maybe, if anyone could understand, without thinking he was just really terrible, it would be another version of himself, maybe... He finally looked up at him to respond before noticing his expression and stopping. "Uhm, Are you, Okay?" He asked, concerned. 

The lusus still looked pleased as punch to be pet, its little tail whipping back and forth.

ad1ostoreador: He bit his lip again, and looked up, almost guiltily jerking his hand back to his lap, with a quick rub of the other hand over his eyes.  "....yeah. I'm okay.  It's fine..."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros frowned, tilting his head slightly as the lusus mooed in disappointment "Uhm, Okay, But, No, I don't think that you are?"

ad1ostoreador: A few beats of silence passed, and then Tavros managed--"...I wasn't... expecting to see..." He jerked his head slightly in the direction of the lusus.  "...that's all.  It's dumb, and I should have... expected.  I'm okay."

fiduspawn-master: His brows furrowed in confusion. "To see a fairy bull? Uhm... Oh, Right, I guess there must not be any in the place that you live... Uhm, I can ask him to go in the other room, If you want" He offered.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros hesitated, then shook his head, though a tiny part of him wanted to nod, instead, and another part wanted to maybe just curl up in a hole.  "No.... no. It's okay... really.  It's just been a long time.  You were, uh.... you were saying?"

fiduspawn-master: He wasn't totally convinced, sending a brief thought to the fairy bull to not bother their guest. Reluctantly they fluttered down to the other side of the couch and sat down, pouting a little bit. "Oh, Uhm, I don't know. We don't really have to talk about it..." His alter looked upset and distracted, and he didn't want to make him more uncomfortable or bother him about his problems...

ad1ostoreador: Frankly, a distraction from the shitty ache behind his eyes and missing his own lusus would be welcome.  He rubbed at the ring in his own nose, briefly, and let out a tiny breath.  "....like I said, I don't want to, um... assume things, which could be wrong, if you don't... want to say anything.  But... you don't have to."

fiduspawn-master: He sighed faintly and fiddled with his ring again, looking off towards the windows. "Well... I guess I have just gotten pretty used to the only feeling I felt being loneliness? Which, Was really pretty terrible, But also, Familiar...?" He trailed off a moment, one hand squeezing into a fist. "Now, There are people to talk to and, Uhhh, Watch, Live their lives, Doing important things and, Uhm, Having friends that care about them a lot, And, It has just been making me have a lot of feelings about everything, And, It feels like it was easier, To just be lonely, But, Also, Somehow, I feel even more lonely than I did before?" He swallowed, looking down as his hair flopped forward into his face, his hands kneading together hard. "Uhm, Sorry, That probably sounds pretty dumb, And, Terrible..."

ad1ostoreador: "No, I... I get it."  Tavros cleared his throat a little, fingers back to being laced together in his lap.  "...Being in the Furthest Ring alone was... really lonely.  And in some ways it... felt even worse to go online, and see everyone just... busy and happy with all their own, uh, lives, and stuff, and people they actually cared about..."

fiduspawn-master: He finally looked up at his alter again as he spoke, nodding a little with a small sniff "Yeah, That is, Pretty much it exactly..." he huffed, reaching up to push his hair back into place again. "I, Don't really know what to do about it, Or, If it would be better to just... Not go online..."

ad1ostoreador: "...It's not easy.  And sometimes the bad times like that just keep happening over again, when it's extra, uh, hard, and lonely, and everything is awful. But... if you stay away from everyone, and you don't meet anyone, or talk to anyone.... you won't get any of the good times, then, when it doesn't feel that way, and when you can believe that people would notice, if you... weren't online."  It was possibly a cycle Tavros had been through multiple times, himself.

fiduspawn-master: His hand stayed in his hair, twisting it between his fingers some as he tried to get the lump out of his throat, making it hard to breathe. "You, Uhm, Really think that it could be like that for me?" he huffed, looking down a the blanket over his legs. "For me?"

ad1ostoreador: "I think, definitely so. And... I think that trolls aren't... meant to be all alone.  We... need other people, more than that... even with all the dumb Imperial stuff, trying to draw lines between everybody and keep them apart..."  Tavros echoed the faint 'huff', with a small shake of his head.

fiduspawn-master: Tav fidgeted a bit at the empire talk, shifting a little in his chair and shrugging "I mean, I wouldn't be alone if I wasnt-... I could- could have, Made other friends, And, Uhm,  known people... I could have tried..." Maybe he shouldn't be defending the empire here, but it was kind of his fault for being a cripple. "I wouldn't have gotten stuck in being lonely, I don't think..."

ad1ostoreador: "...It's not 'could have'... it's 'can'," Tavros pointed out, glancing up from his own fingers then.  "Only, without the part where V--she, uh, ruins everything, always.  There's... lots of options, you know? Even if you haven't always... had some of those options, before now."

fiduspawn-master: His fingers fisted tight in the blanket in his lap at the mere mention. "Yeah." he huffed with a scowl before sighing again "Yeah... I guess, It will only be too late if I stop trying... It's... Hard though. It still kind of feels like I'm too late, And, Not ready, At the same time..."

ad1ostoreador: "....Used to feel sometimes like everyone was... busy finding all their serendipity back before I even, uh, knew the site everyone uses now was a thing that existed.  Like I was... just too late to ever be anything important, to anyone, even as a friend..."  Tavros said, a little too off-handedly.  Sometimes it still felt that way, except for Gamzee, but he usually tried to remind himself that that was probably the horrible gray creep of depression talking, and not actual reality. "..But don't stop trying, is the point, mostly. Like you, uh, said, it's not too late unless you quit trying..."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros nodded slowly as he listened. Yes, that was pretty much exactly how he felt about it. Maybe though, if another version of himself could overcome it, (albeit, a way cooler more interesting and less broken version of himself, but, that wasn't a helpful thought to have) Then maybe he could too. 

"Yeah, Okay... Thank you. Uhm, I'm glad that you understand, Even though, I'm also sorry that you understand..."

ad1ostoreador: "It's... one of the good things, I think, about there being... so many versions of so many worlds, out there... the odds are probably, um, pretty good that somebody understands just about anything... yeah?" He tried for a small and crooked smile, shrugging.

fiduspawn-master: Tav mirrored the lopsided smile with another small nod. "Heh, Yeahhh... Uhm... Sorry, Things got kind of heavy. I hope this visit hasn't just been really terrible." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck again awkwardly. "Maybe, If you ever wanted to come by again, We could do something actually fun?"

ad1ostoreador: "It's fine, really... and, that would be a thing that we could, uh, do... or... you could come visit our planet, sometime, if you wanted?"  Beach sand might not agree with wheels, so well, but the 'social' hive had smooth, solid floors and lots of open space to maneuver.  "I think you would like to meet the, uhh, oggos a lot..."

Tavros couldn't help one more furtive glance over at the small lusus at the other end of the couch, and swallowed.

fiduspawn-master: "Oh, Yes! Uhm, Gamzee mentioned there were new kinds of beasts there, And it sounded really beautiful also!" He brightened up a bit at the idea, his hands relaxing in his lap. "That would be fun."

The fairy bull had curled up once it became clear it was going to be ignored by the new troll, and was dozing off, shimmery wings folded down against its back. "Uhm... Do you want to take some with you?" Tav asked, seeing him eyeing the lusus again. "There's, Uhh, A good sized herd around right now, You could probably take enough to start breeding them, If you wanted." He was still working under the assumption that he simply missed the general presence of fairy bulls.

ad1ostoreador: For a moment, he froze, then slowly shook his head.  "...I think... it would just, um, make me think more about missing mine, probably... a lot."  He shut his eyes briefly.  "...How did you, uh, get a robot fairy bull, anyway?"

fiduspawn-master: He bit his lip and nodded a little "Yeah, Okay, Sorry. It is definitely always really hard when they die, I can't imagine there not being more to come and replace them..." he mumbled before glancing back at the shiny white fairybot. "Oh, Uhm, That was, Uhh, Bull. He kind of changed the one that was taking care of me, So that they could always be monitoring me, and, the thing that he did to make my legs not be hurting pretty much all of the time, Since, I didn't want any of the robot stuff to be in my sponge..." He patted the fairybot a little more tentatively "I guess that it's okay, Since, They still are happy.”

ad1ostoreador: Tavros was very quiet, for a few more beats, and then quirked a quarter-smile that mostly looked like it hurt. "There was just... the one, for me. When I was younger.  He... always acted like he missed other fairy bulls, but... there weren't any more wild ones nearby, not for leagues and leagues... and nobody rust was allowed more than one lusus.  Even if they were... really small."

The thought of anyone just being changed that way, even a lusus, still made something roll over unsettled in his stomach, but he let out a breath.  "...I'm glad he, uh... helped your legs not hurt."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros frowned as his alter spoke, his ears drooping. "Oh man... I'm so sorry, That must have been, Really hard..." he mumbled, his eyes wandering to Tinkerbull as he twisted the ring around his finger. "Uhm, Yeah, I'm glad too, And that, That is all that he did, Also..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros couldn't help a small, wry, but real-er smile, at that. "Yeah... He really, um, likes the... robot stuff. But... he won't do it, if you remind him not to..." He shrugged slightly. "And if you don't want to, uh... be like that."

fiduspawn-master: "Yeahhhh... He was really sorry for, Uhm, Freaking me out afterwards. He just, Really wanted to help... I think, That I just don't want to not be me..." His jaw tightened slightly as his hands smoothed back over his blanket "Even if, Me, Isn't as cool or smart, Or, Really confident, As I guess he could have made me..." He trailed off, eyes downcast.

ad1ostoreador: "I think... for him, he didn't feel like himself until he went all... robot. So... he has a hard time, maybe, understanding people who don't feel like themselves because they've been made a robot...." Tavros added, quietly. 

"...He does try really hard to help, though. And... I think you are already pretty cool, and smart, what with being all, uh... an illegal rebel, hiding on-planet, and... building fakespawn, and stuff that I don't have any idea how to do, but you do it really well. And... the fact that you are still alive, when... most everything on Alternia is designed to, um, try to prevent that. And you're away from her..." Which was a big thing, all by itself.

fiduspawn-master: He huffed, reaching up to fiddle with his hair again. "Uhmmm, I don't know, About all of that stuff... But, I don't really need to be anything special..." He gave a half hearted shrug "I think that I will just probably always be the same, Until..." He trailed off again before shaking his head, finally looking up at his alt with a strained laugh "Hah, Wow, This is all pretty depressing to talk about! Uhm, We could definitely probably be talking about things that are not that!"

ad1ostoreador: From where Tavros was standing, it already looked like a few major changes, from the pupa they'd once been.  He didn't argue the point further, though, just giving his head a little shake.  "Sorry... you should definitely, um, come visit sometime soon, though."  He had the beginnings of the inklings of an idea, even.

fiduspawn-master: "It's okay! And, Yes! I think I would like that a lot, If you guys felt like it." he said as he kept up the smile a little more naturally. "I can't wait to try the chocolate you brought also, I can't remember the last time I got to have any!"

ad1ostoreador: "It's like... a tree-fungus, where we are. It grows on their stemrinds, on certain types... and it tastes just like chocolate. Not the, uh, over-sweet candy type hivestem stuff, but the real stuff."  Tavros might have been rambling a little, for the sake of a topic that didn't sting. "I use it in, um... hot cocoa, and spicy huskbean stew, and some other things..."

fiduspawn-master: "Oh wow! That sounds like an amazing thing to have grow where you live! Hah, Man, I don't have a lot of stuff to make spicy food with, I wish I was better at cooking fancy stuff..." he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

ad1ostoreador: "I don't know that anything I make is, uh, fancy... it's all just... country, um, warmblood type food, but..."  It was still a conscious effort, for Tavros, to remember to say 'warm' and not 'low', sometimes.  To avoid sliding back into old, Alternian habits, like they might inadvertently stain their new planet with the leavings of the old.  But he was trying. Gamzee was more of a stickler about it than he, even.  "We're not that far into the cool season, I think... but for now, there's lots of food to find, still."

fiduspawn-master: "I'm glad to hear that! I have been, Uhhh, Saving a lot of food. I dug out a whole nutrition cellar last sweep, After the drones managed to damage my windmill, And, I lost power for, Like, A perigee, And all my food went bad..." He shook his head again and shrugged "But, I have learned a lot about preserving food now, And, I have plenty of it stored up for the dim season!" he continued cheerily. "It was definetly worth all the work, Heh."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros nodded, brow furrowing at the tale.  "Oh... no.  Do you, um, have enough power back now, I hope...?"  He looked up.

"We, uh... had to kind of learn some things suddenly.  About preserving fish.  These... whartlebeasts came through our, uh, bay, and I think they were just migrating, but.... they feed by crowding everything up into the shallows, and just taking big gulps as they go by.  So... we had fish flopping up on the beach, fish all over the place... and the oggos were, uh... having a very... messy blast with it all. "  He snorted a half-laugh.  "...We started smoking excess fish, then. Or it would have just... stunk everything up terribly."

fiduspawn-master: He nodded "Oh, Yeah! The power cells are all full up after the storm last light! I, Uhh, Wish I could get more to store more power, For emergencies, But, That would be kind of hard." he admitted.

He smiled at the mental image of all the beasts, laughing with his alt and grinning "Hah, That sounds so fun! And a great way to get a lot of food, Heh,"

ad1ostoreador: "Definitely... I mean, raking the sand clean after it all wasn't fun, but... feeling the whartles was... sort of like with skywhales, only all heavy and rough-shelled, and staying in the water, and just, um, thinking deep cool thoughts, as they paddle along..."    He raked a hand through his shaggy hair.

"I'm sure there's people online who, um, would trade more power cells, for something you can make, or else find, around here..."

fiduspawn-master: His eyes sparkled as he smiled wide, imagining the unfamiliar beasts. "Wow!!! I hope I get to see them, If I come over, Heheh,"

He leaned back in his chair, looking to his husktop on the table "Uhm, Yeah, It's been kind of hard to trade for things that are that big and heavy, And, Also expensive...."

ad1ostoreador: "I don't... know much about that kind of thing, really, but there are definitely people who can find that stuff."  He shifted his wings a little, with a crickety, papery rustle.  "You, uh... said that drones broke the windmill, before? How did... that happen?  I mean... without them doing worse...."

fiduspawn-master: "Uhhh, I think that it was just really unlucky? Since, They came in the day, And, No beasts spotted them coming until it was too late. They managed to tear off two of the blades before I could organize enough beasts to fend them off. Usually, They will leave a hive alone if it seems to have become a, Uhm, Lusus den..." That had been a very difficult few perigees, with no power and not much food, having to work all night every night to rebuild the windmill, and then to dig a nutrition cellar after that. The beasts had helped of course, but there was only so much that they could do...

ad1ostoreador: Tavros grimaced slightly.  He might have been off Alternia for sweeps, but the prospect of fending off determined drones with stray lusii and wild beasts was none too appealing. "...It's good that you were able to, uh... drive them away, before they did more than that... and that you were able to fix it, and do all that work, after..."

fiduspawn-master: He nodded solemnly before smiling with a small chuckle "There have not been a lot of fly bys for the last couple of perigees though, I think I have managed to mostly, Uhhh, scare them off from this area!" His smile spread into a big, slightly smug grin. "I managed to find a beast that they will always steer clear of!!"

ad1ostoreador: "Good... good.  That's... definitely better than the alternative."  Tavros's ears flicked, cupping curiously towards him.  "Oh yeah? What kind of, um, beasts will they stay away from, around here?"

fiduspawn-master: He leaned forward a bit in his chair, coppery eyes sparkling with excitement "Do you want to see?? You have to promise not to look, Though, Or to feel for them either! It will be a really cool surprise that way!!"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros nodded slowly, a mixture of anticipation and puzzlement on his features.  It was hard to rein in his automatic level of communing and then deliberately try not to think about it, though.  Harder yet to not think about the thing he was supposed to not think about.  "Uhhh..." He tried shutting his eyes, and just focusing on the sleepy soothcoon and the flittering, too-familiar feel of the fairy bull in the vicinity, instead.  "...Okay..."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros giggled, giddy as he turned to the wall of windows, putting a hand to his temple briefly to focus and find the beast he was seeking. They were pretty far away, but that didn't matter, it would only take a couple of minutes for them to get here. In the meantime he tugged at the blackout curtains to reveal the open, rolling fields outside, the wind still making the grass ripple like waves. He could feel them approaching, and he turned to go back to his alt, grabbing one of his hands to guide him over to the window "Here! They're about to land!"

A shadow blocked out the rosy moonlight for a moment before with a heavy thud, a gleaming, white dragon, nearly the size of a galleon, landed in the grass just outside. "Tadh! Heh, This, Is my new friend, Who has scared away most of the drones!" Tavros announced, throwing out an arm towards the huge lusus. “Uhh, Here." Reaching out, he pulled open one of the windows which was actually a door. "You want to meet them?"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros kept his eyes shut, even when he was tugged closer to the window, until his counterpart called out.  Then.... Oh.  That was... that was an actual real live adult dragon, of a sort he'd never encountered on his own Alternia, Terezi's sleeping unhatched lusus notwithstanding.  For a moment, he could almost taste an echo of the smell of burning tissue, but it wasn't real and it wasn't here and nobody was creep-crawling through his pan.  And that was a dragon.

"....Yes... uhh, yes, can I?"  The question was half to his alternate, and half to the massive creature itself.  It was only proper to be polite, of course, when meeting someone new.

fiduspawn-master: On closer inspection, although large, the dragon was still technically an adolescent, its eyes still sealed shut though a dull red glow was visible through the lids. By way of answer Tavros simply wheeled out the door ahead of his alt and moved to the side.

The dragon turned its massive head towards both of them, nostrils flaring as it sniffed them out. It- she, was friendly, if a little aloof, showing a little more interest in the winged stranger than the one who'd called her.

ad1ostoreador: "...She's beautiful," he breathed, stepping out the door and shrugging his poncho off with a quick slip of a fastening that let him spread his wings and give them a flick or two to stretch.  He approached the dragon, fearlessly, to be sniffed to any degree she liked, and reached up to scritch gently along a seam of fine scales on her jaw.

"I bet even the drones definitely, uh, don't really want to pick a fight with her, do they...?"  Tavros paused, gazing up at the dragon's bulk.  "...Was she Terezi's? Or...?"

fiduspawn-master: "Heh, Yeah," he agreed with a smile that faltered when he looked to his alt and saw him shrugging off the poncho he'd been wearing, seeing the wings in person for the first time. Oh... That was a little worse than a mirthhive mirror. He wanted to look away but he also didn't.

The dragon lowered her head, longer than a troll was tall, giving Tavros a more thorough sniffing. An uncomfortable heat radiated from her closed eyes and she generally kept them angled away from both trolls so they wouldn't be seared by the proximity. Her scales were hot too, at least on her head, almost too hot to touch.

Tav was still staring at his alt, only snapping out of it when addressed "Oh! Uhmm, I kind of think that she probably was, Since, They are so rare, It is pretty likely, But, She is kind of, uhhh, Cagey, About information regarding herself..."

ad1ostoreador: He kept the touch light and careful, skimming shy of burning his fingers on the heat of the dragon's scales.  "I don't know how, uh, fast they grow, after hatching..."  It was hard to tell, with some of the megafauna.  Some would shoot up in a couple of seasons... others just inched larger incrementally from sweep to sweep.  "She feels... strong. How long ago did you meet her...?"

fiduspawn-master: "I'm not sure either, But, I don't think she's too old..." He stayed back a bit, letting his alter interact with the magnificent beast on his own. "Uhm, Maybe six perigees ago? She was just, Flying along the coast, And I brought her in to get to know her a little bit... She has been coming to help me with the drones every now and then since then..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros looked from the dragon to his alternate, and back, not speaking for a moment.  Like any psi-active troll, if his powers were pushed hard enough, even his eyes would visibly glow... but for a mere touch of mental communication exchanged with the beast, in the form of a polite query, the flicker was so muted and brief that it would pass unseen.  Had she ever flown with a passenger? And more importantly, would the gracious lady be willing to?

fiduspawn-master: She returned an affirmative, followed by the mental equivalent of a nonchalant shrug. Not opposed. 

Tavros noticed his alt looking between him and the dragon, simply raising an eyebrow. "Uhhh..."

ad1ostoreador: He grinned then, fangy and bright.  "...Have you, uhh, gone flying with her, before?"

fiduspawn-master: His eyes widened "Oh, Uhm, Like, Riding her? No I, Definitely haven't done that..." He looked to the dragon's imposing bulk and, yeah, that would have been a bit of a climb to get up there, and those claws were maybe a bit too sharp to safely hold a troll...

ad1ostoreador: "Then... that is a thing we are going to do, because I can definitely help you get up there, and also back down again," Tavros announced, beaming... then hesitated.  "If... if you want to, I mean...?"

fiduspawn-master: His mouth hung open a moment as he looked at his alter, and then the dragon. "O-oh, I-... Yeah, I, I think that I would like that..." he said, a little quietly, giving him a nervous smile.

ad1ostoreador: Good.  It just wasn't right, somehow, for any of their bloodline to be entirely ground-bound.  He moved forward, coaxing and coordinating with the dragon to lower her stance, to position one foreleg just so, outstretched for potential support, and reached out to offer his alternate both hands, for a solid forearm-to-forearm-locked grip.  His wings spread wider and tilted against a gust of the sea wind, and a strange, faint, smaller set of rust-orange phantom wings shimmered into being with them, almost like a flapstraction's holographic overlay. There was a hint of blue shimmer at the edges of his clothes, too, but his actual, real clothing stayed firmly where it belonged.  (He really was emphatically not a fan of his godtier's default cut, or of having that much of his legs exposed, even sweeps and a pupation after the fact.)

"What I can do, is lift you up over her shoulder, and, uh, set you down between her neck-ridges.  Slowly.  Okay...?"

fiduspawn-master: He watched for a second as his guest conversed with the dragon before jolting slightly in realization, looking down at his lap. Oh, this probably wouldn't work, how could he keep them wrapped up? He didn't want him to have to see-- not after Bull's reaction had been so bad. Dang it, why did he have to prefer the comfort and convenience of shorts? He was so preoccupied he totally missed his alter's subtle transformation, rolling his chair backwards towards the door again. "Uhhhhh, Do you think, You could maybe, Uhm, Wait a couple of minutes? Uhh, Sorry, I just, Have to do something really quick!"

ad1ostoreador: "Okay, uh... no problem. No rush."  Tavros lowered his hands again, no longer braced to lift off, and instead rubbed the back of his own neck, then raked his hair out of his eyes, where the wind had blown it around wildly.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros retreated quickly inside, emerging after a few minutes, blanket discarded and long pants donned. There was still a hint of, visible mishapenness to them, but the pants were baggy enough to hide most of it.

He rolled back over to his alter, smiling awkwardly "Uhh, Hey, Sorry about that, I'm ready now I guess?"

ad1ostoreador: Well, it wasn't as though Tavros would judge his alternate for the shape his legs were in... he just had lingering sensitivities about his own.  This time, he sprang up off the ground to get his wings beating fast enough to hover, as he would have to back on his own planet, then furrowed his brow, dipped closer to Tavros's chair, and offered his hands again, as the weird holo-overlay wing effect remained perfectly, ornamentally still, and his flight steadied from a hover into something more like a gravity-free float. Godtier nonsense and physics were not always on the best of terms, and occasionally resulted in the latter presumably throwing its metaphorical hands up and wandering away for a stiff drink.

"Here..."

fiduspawn-master: No longer distracted, he watched his other self take to the air, making it look so, natural and effortless, then, maybe a little unnatural, but still effortless. 

Swallowing, he nodded and reached up to firmly grasp his arm, letting himself be pulled out of his chair. He still winced, even though he knew it wouldn't hurt, it was just a hard habit to break at this point.

ad1ostoreador: It was slow. Easier than it should have been, even as the muscles in Tavros's arms went taut and he lifted them, as smoothly as a balloon drifting up from the chair and angling upwards along the dragon's shoulder, dangling feet not skimming her scales, but barely above them.  He stopped, when his alternate was suspended neatly over the notch in her neckridges, then carefully, carefully hovered him lower, prepared to hold his weight up one-armed if need be until the other troll had gotten his legs arranged to his satisfaction.

"...All set?"  Given the affirmative, he would lower him the last few inches, to settle his weight there safely.

fiduspawn-master: He clung to his alter's arm, pulling his legs up a bit to keep them from just dangling as he was airlifted over to the dragon's back and gently lowered down. The scales were still hot but not burning like they were on her head, and he settled himself, reaching forward to hold on tightly to one of the neck ridges and looking up at Tavros with a nod. "Yeah, I'm good I think..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros grinned, broad and pleased, and went from that odd drifting float to wing-buzzing flight again, lifting higher against a gust of wind and hovering near the dragon's head as he called her to take to the sky.  "Hang on, okay?"

fiduspawn-master: He didn't need to be told twice, bracing himself and connecting to the dragon in order to anticipate her movements and better keep balance. She sensed his readiness, standing and turning away from his hive to face the cliffs, starting at a trot to gain speed. The trot turned to a gallop as her wings spread, tilting to catch the wind as they launched themselves off of the high cliff and took to the air.

Tavros was hanging on for dear life, the ride quite bumpy while she was still on the ground. His stomach flipped as she jumped, his breath catching in his throat as the ride turned into a soaring sensation. He finally managed to gasp before letting out a whoop, laughing and hanging on as she tilted upwards to start gaining altitude with mighty wingbeats.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros angled for an updraft and soared higher, circling above the massive sweep of her wings to keep an eye on his alternate and a light thread of communing-sense on the dragon... nothing harsh enough to vie with her rider's.  "Isn't it great?" he called, hands cupped to his mouth to carry over the wind. There was nothing quite like flying, and doing it on the back of an actual dragon probably counted for like... nine thousand extra coolness points, all by itself.

fiduspawn-master: Tav couldn't stop smiling as he kept low to the dragon's back, hanging on as she climbed higher. He could barely hear over the rushing wind, but he glanced over at the flash of bronze, fluttering wings, laughing and letting go with one hand to pump his fist in the air in clear confirmation.

ad1ostoreador: A whoop that he might have learned from Gamzee, and Tavros made a dizzying swoop to plunge past the flying beast's outstretched neck, beneath her, then fight his way up again, grinning wildly and thoroughly windblown.  It wasn't often that he got to play midair with anyone but flapbeasts, especially someone who really appreciated the experience, and he was going to enjoy every minute of this while it lasted.

fiduspawn-master: He quickly grabbed on again, watching Tavros dive and swoop as the dragon evened out her angle of ascent. She let the currents catch in her wings like sails and slowly banked back towards the land again. Now she wasn't flying upwards, Tavros could finally sit up and look around, seeing the sea spread out and glittering below in the moonlight, and his hive, tiny in the distance, standing alone. He spread out his arms to feel the wind rushing past his whole body and took a deep breath of rarefied air. It tasted and smelled better than anything he could ever remember, and he let his eyes close briefly so he could just savor the moment.

ad1ostoreador: It was the kind of moment Tavros was content to let play out, for as long as his counterpart needed it. He kept pace with the dragon's flight, alternating diving glides with fluttering spirals higher, and maybe a brief game of something like tag, even, with subtle gusts of wind rising up to carry him along when he wasn't thinking too hard about it.

fiduspawn-master: The dragon flew in slow arcs, like a gentle roller coaster, nothing too fancy or fast in consideration for her rider. Tav laughed giddily, especially on the descents, relishing the weightless feeling as he clung to her back. Eventually she was flying over his hive and he let her start a slow, circular descent so that she could land, not wanting to push his luck with the magnificent beast. She wasn't his lusus or anything, and he already appreciated her helping with the drones. also he could feel his thighs and behind getting uncomfortably hot from her scales, probably should have thrown his blanket over her back or something.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros followed the dragon downward, there, grinning as they descended, and he would finally still into that physics-gone-slightly-flipped-sideways floaty hover, once she had come to a complete landing stop. "I can, uhh... lift you back down, the same way, if that's okay...?"

fiduspawn-master: Tha dragon hunkered down onto her belly once she'd gently landed, getting low to make dismounting easier. Tav squirmed a little in his seat, looking up to his alt and nodding quickly as he extended a hand "Uhhh, Yes please. Thanks."

ad1ostoreador: Once again, Tavros got a firm hold on his forearm--or both of them, if he offered the other, and then floated him up and off the dragon's neckridge, to carefully airlift him back to his chair, giving him time to get his legs situated before he set him completely down.  "All, um, good?"

fiduspawn-master: He held on with both hands, looking down as he was taken back to his wheeled device. He settled back in easily enough, shifting in his chair as he let go of his alt. He looked up at him with a smile, giving him a thumbs up "Yeah, Thanks!" The dragon was getting up again, sniffing around casually. 

"Heh, Man, That was... Wow, Heh"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros was still grinning, looking pleased and a bit relieved all at once, that his counterpart had both enjoyed the experience and not inadvertently injured himself in the process.  He dropped back to the ground, himself, landing on his feet and folding his wings back with a bit of a sigh to avoid being pushed about by the wind.  The phantom shimmer of a second set of wings evaporated, a moment later. "Yeah... I'm glad she didn't mind," he added, looking up at the dragon with a grateful wave.

fiduspawn-master: She sniffed in his direction before starting to wander off, preparing to lift off again and go back to whatever she'd been doing before.

"Heh, Yeahhh, Me too." He agreed, watching her start to take off, smiling wistfully.

ad1ostoreador: "I guess you do have a pretty, uh... thorough anti-drone defense system..."  He, also, watched the huge beast abscond, though not with quite the same note of wistfulness.

fiduspawn-master: "Heh, Well, It's definitely, Uhhh, Better than it used to be." he hummed, finally tearing his eyes away from the quickly shrinking white dot in the sky to smile at his guest. "Uhm, Thanks for helping me, That was really great..."

ad1ostoreador: "No problem... I'm glad it was fun," Tavros said, smiling back.  He'd had the inklings of the idea, and then the dragon had presented herself as an immediate opportunity.  It was certainly a welcome distraction from the faint, nagging itch of Gl'bgolyb's presence on this planet.  "Maybe we could, uh... do that again sometime..."

fiduspawn-master: "Yeah! Heh, But maybe, Uhh, Not too soon" She wasn't exactly a tame hoofbeast or anything. There was a faint redness along the horizon that hinted at the dawn that would come in the next few hours, and Tavros turned to head back inside now the dragon was out of sight.

(there was something a little different about that itch here too, less eldritch, more predatory, no less uncomfortable, especially this close to the sea.)

ad1ostoreador: Tavros nodded, glancing out toward that tint of color in the sky.  It was amazing how fast being back on Alternia, even for a visit, could remind him that the day was something to fear, not something to greet.  He moved to follow his alternate back inside the hive, picking up his poncho to re-secure it, on the way.  "I should, um, probably head back soon, I think..." He had one more stop off-planet to make, too.  Two if he braved an excess of crowding strangers to find Gamzee a better coat, while he was at it.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros spun around to face him, looking up at him with a slanted smile "Oh, Heh, Yeahhh, probably, It is getting pretty early." he acknowledged, glancing at the row of windows before rolling back over to start closing the curtains. "Uhh, Thank you for coming though! This was, Really nice... Oh, And I hope that Gamzee likes his present!" He added, looking back over his shoulder at him.

ad1ostoreador: "I'm sure he will," Tavros assured him, double-checking to make sure he'd put the fabric-wrapped little package in his sylladex.  It was there, as was the pot he'd come to collect, and he returned that smile crookedly.  "I'll, uh, see you around, yeah?  It was really nice to meet you in person..."

fiduspawn-master: He finished with the curtains and turned to face his alt as he was leaving, smiling more warmly and raising a hand in farewell. "Yes! See you around, Uhh, Tavros, Heh, It was nice to meet you too, And, Not as weird at the end."

ad1ostoreador: It was clearly necessary to offer a fist for a proper fist-bunp, there.  "Definitely not as weird at the end," he agreed, then gave a little wave of his own, and looked down to fiddle with the device on his wrist.  A moment later... fworp, and he was gone the same way he'd arrived.

fiduspawn-master: The fistbump was easily reciprocated and he watched his guest vanish into thin air.