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starwrighter · 2 years ago

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I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Part seven lmao)

Sometimes Danny hated being right. Mentally he cursed himself as he clamored into his lifepod. The Aurora was spilling radiation into the water just like predicted it would. A damaged drive core... That didn't bode well for him or the local wildlife. He was a Fenton! He knew the terminology for "This might blow up," in every language, no matter how needlessly complicated you said it.

A radiation suit would be helpful when the ship blew up, if not for him, then for the other survivors. Danny grew up surrounded by radioactive material, he was about as fucked up as one could get, but there was still time left for the other survivors. If there even were any left.

Shaking his head, Danny opened the storage plucking out the remaining Creepvine clusters, and started fabricating. It was hypnotic, Creepvine clusters to lubricant, copper and mushrooms to a battery and copper wire all that and a piece of titanium gave Danny a functioning Seaglide. The device was heavy, the PDA altering the blueprint so it was usable for him.

Opening the hatch up, eager to test his new toy out, Danny dove back into the water faster than ever before. Propellers spun at speeds that would chop his finger clean off if he touched them. A glowing map at the top and a flashlight he could turn off by squeezing the handles. Quick enough to keep up with the peepers while still being able to make quick sharp turns.

The Device whirled as he swam in circles, up, down, left, right, zigzag! Through coral tubes, around stone arches till he got dizzy, divebombing fish and kicking up sand.

"Congratulations, survivor. you have exceeded your weekly exercise quotient by 500 percent. Data indicates that swimming was your favorite activity,"

Heck yeah it was! Swimming is great! He's fast as hell man, radiation could eat shit! Stalkers wouldn't stand a chance, he'd just outpace them! Swimming around, breaking outcrops, and taking samples of table coral for a computer chip. Danny was having a blast!

In time he would have the materials to fabricate a habitat builder and in turn a super cool sea base! A home away from home while he's stuck outside federation space. Currently, the seabase blueprints he had were...limited, but he could work with that!

Rushing to his fabricator the blue lights felt agonizingly slow as he bounced on the heels of his feet, flippers squeaking against the floor. A habitat builder fell into Danny's impatient hands.

Back in the water, Danny scoped out the area. Access to an abundance of resources, food, and water was a necessity. Along with awareness of local predators. The shallows are a perfect place for him to build right now. A temp base to rest and store stuff before moving somewhere more convenient as he explored and met up with any of the other survivors.

Deciding to test out his new tool, Danny placed down a basic compartment. A tiny little tube that would've been big enough if he only needed a place to sleep. Yeah, that wasn't going to work. How was he supposed to pace aimlessly while he wrote notes? How was he supposed to work and live in a high-tech pool noodle? Disassembling the pathetic tube, Danny swam through the shallows plucking up the quartz needed for glass. More materials would be needed to build his base. Thankfully, he’d crashed in a ship made from and carrying the materials he needed. Danny saw no moral issue with “borrowing” titanium from supply crates light enough to lift, but the PDA seemed to have a small issue with it. With a few minutes of tinkering, it was easy to change the machine’s artificial mind.

A loop, he was going to make a base shaped like a zero because that’s how many fucks he gave about Alterra’s dumb rule. Placed upon foundations was the start of his perfect space base. The sides of the Zero became glass compartments, a perfect place to observe the local wildlife. Solar panels mounted jumpstarted the oxygen production, lights blinding when they snapped on. Fish drifted by his base, some ducking underneath his foundations settling comfortably in the shade provided. Maybe if he was here long enough, he’d grow some plants for fish to nibble on?

A hatch was placed on the front of the Zero, finally giving him access to his new base. Cold air punched him in the face as he stepped inside, but it was a welcome attack. Air conditioning at last! Throwing himself to the floor, Danny giggled, noise bouncing against barren walls. A sterile smell cycled through the base with the air filtered in. Like his parent's lab or a hospital room freshly sanitized. Familiar, it smelled like home.

Peeling off his flippers, Danny propped them against the wall. Bare feet against metal floors, Danny took to running through the loop. Brushing his hands against empty walls, he ran laps like it was gym class. The only difference was this wasn't gym class, so it didn't feel like hell. Several laps ran throughout his base until his breath ran out, and he collapsed to the floor.

Winded and panting, he glanced around his base mentally, planning where everything would go. Blueprints were limited, but brainpower wasn't. Making new blueprints for shelving units or a bed should be easy enough. The hard part would be finding the space for it. If he tinkered with the PDA, he could fabricate some blankets and pillows that he could sleep on and store away when he was awake.

First things first, he needed to get a fabricator and some storage set up. A few wall lockers on each side of the fabricator made his little crafting station. His base still felt bare. White walls would get boring real fast. No paint or paper he could use to decorate. No stickers or wallpaper to paint his base to match the stars. Untapped Potential, something to add to his to-do list. If he couldn't decorate anything else, changing the locker's text font would have to do.

Walking in a loop, Danny muttered, his brain working better than his mouth. Words failed, coming out jumbled if they were more than one or two easy syllables. Fangs created a lisp that'd get him verbally castrated if he was back at Casper. That was if he didn't maul them with his newfound face knives. Like a piranha, he was dangerous! Fierce!

Tap...Tap...Tap

Feet freezing, Danny turned to the window, heart jumping to his throat. Several glowing eyes stared back at him, burning a hole into his soul. Stripes of colors ranging from blue, purple, and forest green ran along its massive scaly body and dragon-like head. Two razor-sharp fangs poked out of a closed mouth. Arms glowing blue that faded to pitch black when reaching its four-fingered hands, each claw sharper than a sword. Hands, oh ancients, why does this one have hands? The other one didn't have hands! Curled up, it would be the same size as his base. Danny pointed his scanner at the guy, the results striking terror into the deepest depths of his core...

What the fuck do you mean this guy's a juvenile!?!

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim

#Danny the moment he gets a seaglide: I'm fast as fuck boii #Danny upon seeing Damian: I'm scared as fuck boii #Imagine playing Subnautica and you're chilling in the shallows and you see a ghost gargantuan hybrid leviathan at your door #I'd simply perish at that point #subnautica au #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #DPXDC #DCXDP #All the tags so people can filter

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or13m · 4 months ago

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Baited Breath, a FNAF story chapter 002

The water felt too cold.

You kept hidden deep within the coral caves, always keeping visual on the area outside the tank walls. The people had gone, now, including the mysterious two machines. None of them had spotted you, you think, though the blue one had seemed like he had.

You shook the thought away, trembling. The artificial rocks offered some semblance of safety, but you were still trapped. Thin arms hugged tighter around yourself. Your tail–long, black scaled, and with flowing white fins–lay limply over the sandy floor. Every breath you took felt too loud, echoing in the tight space. You feared the whole world could hear you hiding out in here.

You couldn’t even remember how long you’d been in here. A day? A few hours? The transfer from the lab to this new place had been a blur. The chemicals–the drugs–whatever they had used–had left your disoriented and weak, unable to tell up from down or fin from hand. The moment the crate had dropped, the water rushing in had helped to snap you out of such a state.

But you still didn’t trust this place.

You watched as the strange figure from before entered your line of vision. Everything had gone quiet, the bright lights had dimmed, and the voices you had been hearing in the distance petered off. Was it night?

The figure–clad in blue–moved silently through the space, blending in with the shadows like he belonged in them. His slender frame glowed faintly beneath the softened lights, moving with an eerie grace. You could see that he was a machine, now, but he didn’t act like one.

His face was strange–half of it formed into a crescent moon and two-toned. One side was light and the other dark. His red optics cut through the water and right at you, making your heart pound.

He could see you.

You froze as he approached the edge of the wading pool just outside your tank. His head tilted and, even though there was a thick barrier of glass between you, you felt the fear grip you at what he could do to you.

You sank deeper into the coral, tail curling tight around you, but you didn’t look away.

He hummed softly–a gentle sound that rippled through the water. It didn’t…sound threatening? Almost…calming?

Then, something splashed into the wading pool.

You flinched at the vibrations, heart racing, but the curiosity ate away at you. Slowly, carefully, you peeked out of your hiding spot. Bobbing on the surface of the wading pool was a bright-red apple.

Why had he dropped that in?

Your eyes flicked back to him. He was crouched at the edge of the pool now, arms resting on his knees. He was watching you, eyes never leaving your form.

Your fingers twitched. It had been so long since you’d eaten anything. Your stomach grumbled with the emptiness. The apple wasn’t in your tank, but it was close enough to get to. You just had to swim under the edge of the tank and into the pool. You pulled back an inch, no trusting the bot. Not yet.

But he wasn’t leaving.

He tilted his head again, the strange grin on his face softening. His voice shattered the silence, calm and deep, though you could barely hear it through the water.

“Come on, little star.”

Your ears perked at the name. The tail that was still unfamiliar to you flicked weakly against the sand, betraying your body’s desire for the fruit. You were still too afraid to get that close to another, but the hunger was growing harder to ignore…

The blue-and-white figure leaned back, sitting fully on the floor, body relaxed. He showed no signs of leaving, willing to wait for you. You didn’t understand it. He wasn’t human, but he wasn’t like the scientists from before either. He was different–less cold and cruel.

“You’re safe here.”

You didn’t know that yet. The way he said it, though–soft and gentle–made you crave it. You wanted to believe it.

Maybe, tomorrow, you’d move closer….

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 1 year ago

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 33

MASTAPOST

god im so sleepy lmao also warning for skulker being a mega creep, but not to the extent of vlad

Damian, for the second time in as many days, awoke in a tank, a fact with which he was extremely displeased. The last thing he recalled was his stomach lurching, the bag he’d been stuffed into serving as an excellent package for Skulker to make off with him. Damian longed for a good blade to sink into the man’s body.

That fact was amplified by the feeling of cold metal on his scales. Damian scratched at the golden bracelets cupping his arms. He was dressed up in luxurious gold and jewels like a lecherous sultan’s slave. A ringed belt-like piece of silver wrapped around his waist and looped over his hip fins. Two more golden rings, each adorned with gleaming rubies, cupped the thinnest portion of his tail just above his tailfin. Despite his best efforts, he was unable to relieve himself of any of the filthy things. They were fitted tight as a glove, almost like they were made for his measurements. Damian shivered, and turned to more productive activities.

His new prison cell was at least more amenable than his last. In fact, it was a little too amenable. Damian found himself in a veritable miniature aquarium. If it weren’t for the reflection of his scaly face in the glass and the lavish (and frankly, tasteless) furniture beyond, he’d have thought himself in the actual ocean. The bottom was padded with beautiful white sand, populated by towering coral structures and schools upon schools of fish, jellyfish, and even a few manta rays. Stalks of kelp rose to the ceiling of the room, as the tank was that tall. Seaweed swayed in an artificial current. Damian picked up the sound of a wave machine gently pushing against the surface of the water.

Tapping the glass proved it was not some common fishbowl’s glass. The barrier between the water and air was at least two inches thick, something even a human Robin would find trouble with, let alone his current state. A golden shine caught his eye. Damian tutted. His fins rattled. It seems Skulker’s poor taste knew no bounds. Solid gold pillars lined the corners of the tank, and ran along the top and bottom.

With a closer look outside the tank, Damian clocked the numerous animal heads lining the walls of the room. Even more baffling was the inclusion of beautiful hand-crafted stone bird fountains scattered around the walls and mounted on posts in the room, populated by, of all the things, red duck candles. An old fashioned writing desk and chair sat facing away from the tank, decorated with what else but more preserved animals, and even more tacky candles, as if they were bought from the novelty shops that Richard would occasionally visit.

Outside of his already-revolting interior décor tastes, Skulker was a hunter. Went after rare and exotic creatures, Danny had told him. Damian’s eyes narrowed. Now he understood fully what the man was after. The abduction, the drowning, the pursuit, the sudden presence of the GiW in Panama, the entire reason for this trip in the first place.

The better question now was whether he was the prize, or the bait? And Damian suspected he was both. After all, Danny had made it very clear how much Skulker wanted his pelt specifically. Why go through the effort of making such a luxurious fish tank for a dead teenager?

There were so many other sirens in the sea, though. It made perfect sense that Damian would be the bait, but why also the prize?

He had caused a media sensation when he’d first arrived in Gotham. Tabloids ran for months, drooling over the gossip and rumours surrounding the mysterious biological son of Bruce Wayne. He’d been swarmed by mobs of rich snobs trying to pair their daughters with him, until his biting tone chased most of them off.

While Skulker wanted to make a coat out of Danny’s scales, he probably also wanted to allure of having such a mysterious and exotic pet. A pet that he’d had a direct hand in creating. Damian’s cheeks heated. He gritted his teeth. Of course. Here he was as much a trophy as the heads on the wall.

The door swung open. Damian bared his teeth. His fins flared wide. If he had his way, he’d be sinking them into the man’s jugular. Instead he was forced to bear Skulker’s smug smirk. He walked in, dressed in black cargo pants and a tank top instead of the customary hulking metal suit. Damian’s scales ran cold as the man looked over his body, bare except for jewelry he himself had placed.

Skulker went to the desk and retrieved a microphone from the drawer. He flipped it on, causing a brief whine in the tank.

“Good afternoon, Damian Wayne. I trust you find your new accommodation satisfactory?”

Damian hissed at him. “If you set me free I might let you live.”

“Hah!” Skulker laughed. The man reached into another drawer and pulled a can of beer. “I’m afraid the world outside is far too dangerous for a little guppy like you. You’ll be safer in here.”

“My absence has already been noted. You will not be able to get away with this!”

“Do you truly believe that, little boy?” Skulker shotgunned the beer in one. “Your little friend Danny wasn’t recognised by his own mother at gunpoint. And even if by some miracle they came here, what would you do? Squeak at them?”

Actually, he would tap out a message in Morse Code, but Skulker didn’t need to know that. And this time he would not hesitate.

Still, that brought up another concern. Skulker did not know he was Robin. As far as he believed, Damian was just some spoilt rich boy. On the one hand, it meant that there would be underestimation, and from there an opportunity. On the other hand, any overt competence he displayed would do badly for the family secret.

What a conundrum.

“So what do you intend to do with me, then? Sell my scales? Bed me?”

Skulker gasped in genuine shock, not the fake politeness that he’d seen Father’s parasites give off. “Did you not know? I am Skulker, the greatest hunter in the seven seas! I am not some kind of sicko. All the pleasure I need comes from the thrill of the hunt! And you have been an admirable quarry, and may now live out the rest of your days in comfort as my greatest trophy.”

Despite his ‘reassurance,’ Damian distinctly thought this made him even more of a sicko. “And what of Phantom’s pelt?”

“Danny will be my greatest coat, or a handbag. I’m open to options. Probably won’t even die the first skinning, what with his regeneration.”

Definitely a sicko. This man would fit right in on Gotham’s rogue’s gallery. Damian had disdain for hunters, especially trophy hunters, but to chase after someone whom you know is human? He recalled the fiery siren girl’s words back at the cave near Amity. To go after your own kind indeed. And Danny had the confidence to casually banter with this man like it was Tuesday?! Not to mention while being shot at by his parents, and the government.

Robin always had Batman, and the family, and the Justice League beyond those people. There were times he craved independence, to strike out on his own and prove himself, only to sorely regret it when it inevitably went pear-shaped. And yet Danny did all that and more, and the only adults in his life wanted to kill him.

“Phantom is thrice the man you will ever be. To covet his skin will only bring you ruin.”

Skulker pressed his face right up against the glass, grinning sadistically. Damian hissed back. “What does a baby sea monster know about manhood? Or ruin, for that matter. Let me spell it out for you. You. Have. No. Rights. Nobody who has those rights is coming for you. I could parade you around animal conservation centres for all the world to see and as far as the law is concerned I’d be as innocent as a newborn babe.”

Rage boiled over. Damian snarled. He lashed out against the glass, clawing uselessly at the barrier. Skulker only laughed harder. Damian slammed at the glass with his tail. His tail rings clanged against it uselessly.

“You’re an adorable trophy. I ought to put a little bell on you, like a kitten.”

The man left soon after, cackling like a TV supervillain (or just a regular real life supervillain, honestly), leaving Damian to stew in his rage.

He was not one to stew for long. With rage, there was never inaction.

Danny stuffed as much seaweed into his mouth as he could fit in his arms. He shoveled shellfish in like a waterslide. His belly bulged with how much food it was taking, and yet kept shrinking rapidly. Danny slashed open a fat fish. He sank his teeth into his flesh, ripped out the guts, then threw the rest out in seconds. It would take too much time to pick the flesh between bones, so he just killed another. Then another, and another.

He’d exhausted himself, and got Damian caught by fucking Skulker. That mistake couldn’t happen again. He couldn’t fail Damian again.

He tried to ignore the way his skin crawled just from how close his mother was. How close Damian’s dad was. If Bruce Wayne learned how badly he’d fucked up, Danny would be a dead fish and he wouldn’t even complain. He deserved it.

Danny ate, and ate, and ate.

He sniffed the water. It was Skulker’s dolphins. The trail was heading away from the shore. Danny swam faster than he had ever swum before.

It seemed Skulker had anticipated many of his first ideas. Damian found the water filter practically welded to its spot. His new ornaments proved useless at breaking or dislodging anything. He’d even found the larger rocks of the aquarium affixed to the bottom and immovable. The pebbles gathered up in bunches at the bottom proved ineffective as well. At the top, Damian found a hatch, probably for maintenance and cleaners to enter, but it was sealed shut. The tank featured no other entrances or exists. What he saw was what he got.

Even if he could break the glass, he didn’t even want to. He was not the only unwilling resident of this tank, but he was the only one with lungs. That left the top hatch as his current best option.

Damian swam into a nook, and began to plan.

This was not ideal. No weapons, no tools, a body for which measures had already been taken. Of course, Danny might come for him. He might. He’d heard an explosion moments after he was snatched right off Danny’s back, then there was the issue of Dr Fenton and his father. To expect Danny to be swift was unreasonable.

In fact, it might be Damian who needed to save Danny.

Which was to say he could not afford to lounge around. Simultaneously, it was possible he’s be forced to play the long game in his escape attempt, and the longer he had to endure Skulker’s lecherous gaze, the more chance he might pop a vein or two.

Time to work on it then. Damian swam up to the top. He knocked against the hatch, testing its durability. To his surprise, there was just the slightest amount of give. Perhaps with a pebble, he could pry it open. A crowbar would’ve been preferable, but beggars could not be choosers.

Seizing stress overwhelmed his tiny body. His subconscious recognised it first. Then his conscious mind registered the rattling of everything in the room. The boat shook, as if rocked by an attack. Damian dashed back behind a rock. He waited for a moment.

Skulker did not come. Perhaps Damian had underestimated Danny’s tenacity yet again. This represented a prime opportunity. While Skulker was busy fighting Danny, Damian could escape and then assist.

So he got to work immediately. He picked up the largest pebble he could get his scaly hands on. Then he went to the bottom of the tank. Steeling his nerves, Damian kicked his fins in sync. He undulated his body in one fluid motion, and surged with blinding speed. The metal clanged loudly and echoed in the water as he slammed as hard as he could against the hatch.

It budged a quarter of a millimetre. Damian could hardly believe it. Then he did it again. And again. What he lacked in body mass he made up for with supernatural speed, pebbles in hand bashing against the hatch. He could not hear any more fighting or gather information on the situation outside the ship. The drive to get back to his friend fuelled his resolve, let him ignore his bruising knuckles and aching elbows. Damian surged up and attacked the opening once more.

His heart sank. The door was pushed open enough to reveal a padlock and chains covering the outside. Curse that Skulker! Damian yelled Todd-esque obscenities as he clawed uselessly at the chains. The lock was too far in the air for the water bound boy to reach, the opening too narrow to fit his hands through. He was Robin! He had no intention of letting a demented two-bit hunter with an ego the size of Lake Michigan get the better of him.

So Damian coiled his tail like a spring again. He imagined all sorts of hateful and unpleasant things plastered over the hatch. The Fenton parents. The Joker. Grandfather.

Nerves fired up, Damian snarled a barely-human battle cry. He launched himself faster than ever before. One second he was at the bottom. The next he was-

The next second, Damian found himself above the surface. Barely registering his surroundings, he let his gills open up immediately. Did he break the hatch? Was this super strength?

He was on some kind of platform over the tank, like the kind at aquariums for trainers or feeders. There was a tight constrictive feeling around his waist. Damian looked back, and his eyes widened.

The doors had budged, but only by a few inches. The lock and chain remained, albeit stretched out. And Damian? His waist compressed through the tiny gap like an octopus. He made out the gleam of the silver belt and necklace on the other side, wrapped around his tail, which should have been too big for them to fit, and yet Damian barely felt inconvenienced.

Well. This changed things.

Damian gripped the metal platform and pulled. He distinctly felt his organs squelch. His stomach had been pushed into his chest cavity, finally returning to its normal spot as his waist came through. His hip fins folded in on themselves. Then each of his bones in his tail bent like rubber bands, his scales sliding through with the help of his copious mucus secretions. At last Damian’s tailfin went through the gap, thin enough to not require any nauseating body modification. Unfortunately, the rings above it were also small enough. If he had the time, he’d have forced them off.

He didn’t have time, though. Danny was out there and he needed his help. With the help of his mucus, Damian slithered snake-like over the metal platform, then down the stairs at the side.

Skulker’s trophy room looked even more garish when there wasn’t glass covering his view. Damian spat on the carpet in disgust. Indeed, he was already intending on slathering a generous trail of mucus over the expensive decor, but it was not just about the raw damage. It was about sending a message.

Damian began to roll across the room. However, just as he went underneath one of the fiendishly ugly bird fountains, another explosion shook the room. Out of water, it was able to ring at his ear fins. Damian was startled out of his wheel position, splaying himself on the floor.

The shockwaves rattled everything in the room. The water rippled. Mounted animal heads jerked up an inch before returning to their hooks. The post holding up the bird fountain just above Damian jerked to one side. Before Damian knew it, a small waxy weight fell on his side.

Everything in his body burned.

The jet ski’s radar pinged bright. Their drone in the air confirmed it. Turns out Brucie Wayne had some nifty contacts. Managed to figure out this ‘Skulker’ fellow was the proud owner of a yacht, and had connections in the human trafficking business. Jack felt sick to his stomach.

Brucie should’ve come with them, should’ve been there to rescue their sons by his and Maddie’s side, but he was still injured from Jazz’s mind-controlled swing, which meant it was just the classic Fenton pair once again. He felt another tinge of pride for his daughter’s arm. But mostly, he felt ready to tear this Skulker apart molecule by molecule.

He just couldn’t believe it. Maddie’d seen him. She’d seen Danny. He was right there and she was just that close and then-

He relaxed his body and took in a deep breath, just like Jazzy said. Whatever was going to happen, he and Maddie were going to give it their all, and get the boys back. Then this would all be over.

Five kilometres north. He glanced to his side, where Maddie, the love of his life, revved her craft. Now or never.

Their presence did not go unnoticed. Jack’s goggles picked up dozens of rockets in the air. His scanners detected torpedoes in the water. Without a word, Maddie was firing at will, and Jack manned the jet skis’ systems. Counter-torpedoes launched from tubes underneath their seats. Mini-guns sprang from their concealments and opened fire.

“Jack, there’s one flanking you!”

“Go high!” He yelled back. Jack spotted the lone torpedo moments away from hitting his ski. On cue, Maddie’s jet ski shot ten feet into the air off the back of its thrusters. Jack waited until it was within striking distance. He pushed the handle bars to full throttle as his ski’s backup thrusters went into overdrive. He shot off away from the torpedo at a sharp right angle. Once he had enough distance, Jack directed the blasters to intercept.

The yacht emerged from the horizon. From hatches and panels along its hole, a veritable arsenal primed itself to fire. Looked like Brucie’s intel was solid. Now it was his and Maddie’s time to shine. Jack charged his weapons, he nodded affirmation to Maddie, and together they went into the fray.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #mermaid au #angst #bruce wayne #danny phantom #skulker #creepiness

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avaantares · 10 months ago

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Guardian Bonus Bingo: Starlight (Amnesty edition)

<recipe blog intro> Sooo the past month has been one of the months of all time, between yet another bout of COVID (it's still a thing, get your booster!) and the whole workshop reg explosion (I covered that on my main rather than here, but basically it meant two weeks of panic), and then the nonsense happening with the next con I'm booked at (heavy 😒 face) which is o n g o i n g

ANYWAY

All that to say that I've not been on Tumblr regularly since... uh... the second week of July? and the majority of everything posted since then was just my queue running out. While I did remember to look up the @guardianbingo prompts and even managed to produce some content, I wasn't online to actually post said content. Thank goodness for the amnesty period.

I remember writing something for the Frustration prompt, but I... don't exactly remember where that file ended up 😅 so I'm posting Starlight first. </recipe blog>

Like the first two fills, this one is a scene that will slot into my AU YOHE fic Picture Imperfect, which will resume posting just as soon as I have two consecutive minutes free to actually edit the thing (which will not be this month. Fingers crossed for September).

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

It was well past sunset when Shen Wei appeared at their usual meeting place at the watchpost. Zhao Yunlan was stretched out on his back in the sparse grass. He’d barely registered the approaching footfalls when he was jolted to awareness by the alarm in Shen Wei’s voice. “Kunlun?”

“What?” Zhao Yunlan half-rolled to his side and craned his neck to look at him—or at least in the direction of his voice. He could just make out a deeper darkness silhouetted against the night sky. “What is it?”

“You—” Shen Wei froze, halfway to a crouch beside him. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. Shouldn’t I be?” Zhao Yunlan strained his ears for any cries of warning or sounds of battle from below, but the night was still. “Is something wrong?”

“I thought you were… unwell.” Slowly, Shen Wei sank the rest of the way to his level. “Why are you lying on the ground?”

Zhao Yunlan dropped back to his recumbent position. “I was just looking at the sky.”

Shen Wei looked up. “Is there something noteworthy about it?”

“Just how many stars there are. It’s so dark tonight, you can really see them.” Thousands upon thousands of them, sprinkled across the sky, dense as the sand on a beach. Without the moon or artificial light to compete with their soft glimmering, the entire canopy stretching overhead seemed alive. Even the darkest parts were shaded with faint speckles, once you looked closely. “I’ve never seen a sky so full of stars.”

“Dahuangshan has no view of the sky? I thought the mountain air would be clearer.”

“They’re… obscured, where I’m from. Too much haze in the air. The light from people’s lamps bounces off it and makes it hard to see through.”

Shen Wei was silent for a moment. “There used to be more of them. Before the Calamity.”

Zhao Yunlan squinted at his silhouette. “What, the meteor knocked stars out of the sky? That doesn’t seem very likely.”

“The ash and debris thrown into the heavens from the impact blotted out the sunlight and plunged the world into sudden winter. Some of the dust fell back to the surface in the years of black snow, but the researchers say that much of it stayed high in the air, circling Haixing. They can tell somehow, with the sacred machines.”

So apparently the spaceship computer analyzed climate data, too. He really needed to get a proper look at one of those “sacred machines.”

Not tonight, though. Tonight, he was on a date—not that his companion would recognize it as such, or even know what one was. “Do you remember it?” Zhao Yunlan asked. “The sky, before the meteor? Or—no, I suppose you were still in Dixing then, weren’t you?”

“No,” Shen Wei answered quietly. Zhao Yunlan assumed he meant he couldn’t remember until he added, “I didn’t see Dixing until much later. I was born on the surface.”

“You were?” Zhao Yunlan rolled upright and shifted around to face him, though it was too dark to see. His Shen Wei had always been so tight-lipped about his past, he hadn’t expected the younger version to share anything about himself. “Where?”

“West of here.” Apparently that was all he was willing to share, because something rounded and warm was suddenly pushed into Zhao Yunlan’s hand. “I brought food. Eat while it’s hot.”

Zhao Yunlan patted around the edge of the bowl until he found the handle of a spoon poking out of it. “I had supper with the men, you know.”

“I saw what you had for supper. You need to eat more.”

Zhao Yunlan could have protested, but Shen Wei was probably right—and he wasn’t about to discourage the man from feeding him, not when he knew what culinary bliss awaited him in the distant future. He sampled the substance in the bowl. It wasn’t exactly congee, since they’d run out of rice days ago, but the texture was similar. He detected bits of wild onion and a few shreds of meat mixed in with the porridge. “What am I eating?”

“Millet, primarily. Unless you mean the rabbit.”

“We have rabbit?”

“The hunters were fortunate. They discovered a warren and brought back several.”

Rabbit wasn’t his favorite dish, but he was grateful for the additional protein. Except for the occasional smoked fish, his meals lately had been lean portions of grain and a selection of increasingly unpalatable vegetables. Even a small supplement of boiled millet and a few bites of meat might give his body the energy it needed to finish healing, and he wanted his leg back to normal as soon as possible.

When he’d finished eating, he set the bowl on the grass and maneuvered around so he could lean back against one of the boulders. “It’s been over a month,” he murmured, gazing up at the sky again. “We left Jiangyan right before the new moon, remember? That means I’ve been here around five weeks.” Air escaped him in a slow sigh. “I wonder how things are back home.”

#guardian #guardian bonus bingo #picture imperfect #my writing #fanfiction #prompt: starlight

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thetakenpokemon · 6 months ago

Text

Interlude III - The Oracle

[Location: Venhara - Venhara City; Temple of the Oracle]

[Name: Imenket, Oracle of Venhara] [Species: Venharan Lucario]

I walk into my chambers - the circlular room of sandstone smelling strong of incense that my retainers had already prepared for me. Normally I would be in a calm state, but...my mind is troubled.

It has been a while since I have last received a vision - an oracle. Normally such a thing would be considered a blessing since very few visions have ever foretold of a pleasant future, only disasters and fates that need to be averted.

However I have a feeling - a gut feeling - that this peace is short-lived. Especially with the news I overheard from the Sand Striders of the silver monsters across the Dunefields of Den.

I walk over to a basin of water and stare into it, my dark fur barely illuminated by the dim candles surrounding the chamber. I can see my deep amber eyes gazing back with the green markings painted underneath, and my ornamental dress that is designed after that of a Xatu - attire signifying that my family is blessed by the first Oracle, Osiru.

I let out a sigh before cupping the water in my hands and washing my face, attempting to use the cool water to rinse my anxiety away.

The Queen is nervous as well with the news of the silver monsters, fearing that they may be a grave threat. As of now the Guardians of Twilight are sending one of their Night Watchers to assess the situation, but the fact I haven't received a single vision of the situation is...still concerning.

Does it mean that those silver monsters are of no threat?

...

I must meditate.

Using a hand towel to dry my face I walk over to the carpet placed in the center of the chamber, its placed around its edge are incense and candles. I slowly sit down in the center and spread out my robes, resting my hands on my lap.

With a deep breath, I close my eyes...

...

Barren landscapes of stone, metal, and glass.

The vibrant yellow dunes of Venhara are no more, leaving nothing but pillars of artificial structures that tower into the sky like carefully constructed pylons.

Silver machines walk across its surface, their cold red optics gazing upon their carefully crafted perfection.

Converted. Subjugated. Assimilated.

It is not just Venhara, but the world. Once a vibrant planet teeming with life is now but an anchor in this reality. An extension to their vast network, acting as a gateway that grants the entire collective access to this untouched universe.

The universe is to be eventually claimed in its entirety, nothing is capable of stopping something so endless as they. It was too late when the Legends got involved, the machines had already converted too much of the world to be stopped.

...

A four armed alien stumbles across the sand, in his clutches a curious Object. It is a stellated octahedron of various colors, its spherical black core disrupting its geometric design.

Once a vibrant possessor of Light, now dormant from having been disrupted by the vast journey across time and space.

The alien succumbs to its mortal wounds, collapsing to the ground just as a pair of Sand Striders stumble upon him. In his last desperate attempt to continue his doomed legacy he offers the object to them, deeming it Winter in his unknown tongue.

The Sand Striders argue amongst each other over the situation before begrudgingly taking the object, knowing that they need to report this to the Queen immediately.

They turn and make haste back to Venhara, leaving the corpse of the alien as he becomes buried underneath the rolling waves of sand.

...

An oasis in the center of the brutal desert, a small slice of paradise that rejuvenates all within before they must resume their grueling journey through Venhara's sand and sun.

But something stands within the center of its blue waters, something that was not there originally.

A large shard of electroweak matter and neutronium stands towering over the surrounding palms, its white surface standing out brilliantly amongst the greenery.

Yet even more brilliantly is that it radiates Light.

Light that burns away the Dark.

The shard glows brilliantly, unleashing a torrential shockwave of its blinding brilliance, giving life to the dormant Object once more...

...and thus giving birth to a warrior whose power allows them to combat the machines.

A warrior who can protect Venhara and this world.

A protector.

A Guardian.

...

My eyes shoot open with a gasp, my lungs burning for breath and my heart threatening to burst from my chest.

A vision.

And not just any vision, but one of the fate of Venhara and the world.

I feel dizzy, clutching my head as I try to comprehend all that I've witnessed.

The warrior standing within the light of the shard, the one who will become the Guardian of our world...

I must act immediately, there's no time to inform the Queen of the vision. I need to intercept the Sand Striders and obtain the object they've received and give it to that warrior, and then send them with it to the shard in the oasis.

Time is of the essence, the machines are already starting the process of converting our world into the anchor that connects to their network.

"Nephari!" I shout urgently, calling to my retainer that is waiting outside my room.

Immediately the curtain bursts open, the humanoid outline of my retainer hurrying in.

"What is it, Oracle?" She asks, her eyes wide with surprise. It is very rare that I call for her with any urgency, so for me to do so must truly mean that this situation is grave.

I look upon the Venharan Liepard, the candlelight illuminating her dark fur and the bright gold patterns of her body.

"A pair of Sand Striders are to return to the city very soon, Nephari." I answer her, preparing my instructions. "Intercept them just as they reach the gates, they are possessing an object of immense importance." My eyes narrow. "Bring it to me as soon as you can, this situation concerns more than we can ever hope."

She bows her head, clasping her hands together. "Of course, Oracle." She says, only to look up as her slitted pupils stare into mine. "...If this object is of importance, that means I can expect them to object. How should I proceed if they do?"

"You have my full permission to use my name and authority to retrieve it from them." I tell her. "Time cannot be wasted, I will explain everything to them and the Queen later."

"Of course, Oracle." She repeats before quickly turning and sprinting out of the room, her dexterous form far more agile than even Venharan Lucarios.

"Make haste." I whisper even though she is long gone, a new sensation in my stomach.

A pit far greater than before, anxiety having been replaced with full-blown dread and fear.

Our world is in danger.

I can still recall the form of the warrior that stood before the shard as it filled them with light...

...That warrior... A woman, her appearance that of a Bisharp and Medicham...

#plot #venhara #(Surprise post - will also include one last FtW after this before the summaries follow)

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an-interview-with-j1janedoe · 9 months ago

Note

Whatever you choose, your choices will determine who you are, and it's ultimately up to you to decide what to do and how today should end.

Despite the programming and purpose they gave you, you seem to still be able to do things outside of those two. Something may be set in stone, yes, but stone can still become sand over time, or be corroded, or be broken down into smaller pieces and destroyed beyond repairing or recognition. Naturally or artificially. It takes time but it's important to start. It's still someone's choice what to do, though (at least when done artificially).

I wish you the best of luck in your endeavour, no matter how it ends. Though there is one way I'd prefer it to end, the choice is yours. Best of luck, Jane Doe. May you make the best choice, whatever you think that is.

Don't go on autopilot or do it mindlessly, think about it. That's the only thing I can really suggest, anyway. You're not a mindless machine, you're not only your programming and purpose.

May you make the best choice, Jane Doe, whatever you think that is.

[⚙️]—

...

She doesn't answer.

#j-1/jane answers #ask j-1/jane doe #ride the cyclone #rtc au #rtc musical #ride the cyclone au #ride the cyclone musical #jane ride the cyclone #rtc jane doe #jane rtc #TARGET AQUIRED AU (INTERVIEW WITH URANIUM CITY'S SERIAL KILLER 'WRAITH')

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gabriellerudessa · 11 months ago

Text

Compass (Norm Maclean x OC) - Part XXII

"He had left his Vault to search for his sister, and sure from what he talked he could never return there… But now that they knew about Vault 4, and that she knew what exactly entailed living in a Vault…

Maybe it was naïve of her to expect him to take on her offer once he found Lucy. The life she had offered was one of hardship, never truly safe, trying to find the best way to survive and try to thrive on the ruins of another world. There was no way it could compare with Vault life."

PLAYLIST ON YOUTUBE

Word Count: 6.006 (love how these chapters are slowly becoming bigger help)

Warnings: ... Wasteland Typical Happenings :D

XXII

Marigold felt herself slowly awakening. Her mind could still remember fragments of her dream – a laugh, painfully sweet kisses on her fingertips –, which was rare: either she slept like the dead and didn’t remember a single dream, or slept so lightly she couldn’t dream.

Breathing slowly, eyes still closed, mint still taking over her lungs and Norm’s hair tickling her nose. He breathed deeply, chest expanding against her, and while her arm was still tight around him, the hand that had been intertwined with hers was missing.

Marigold opened her eyes with a sigh and wondered the hour. The curtains were unthinkably thick, not a sliver of light penetrating the space – even if artificial –, and apparently the walls were well soundproofed, because she couldn’t hear anything from outside. The machine that had been cleaning their clothes was also silent.

Where were the light switches for the lamp beside the bed?

She dwelled on that thought, the warmth under the blankets and Norm’s body against her almost making her fall asleep again.

Carefully retreating from him, her hand fumbled on the side table closest to her, until it stumbled into a small knob. She pressed it, and a warm, soft light washed over them, not reaching far, but enough for her to step barefooted towards the dinner table.

She didn’t know how to work with his Pip-Boy, but surely seeing the hour shouldn’t be that hard… As long as she managed to actually read the numbers without getting a headache.

Fuck, she really didn’t want to awake him just to verify the hour… What if it was the middle of the night and they still had some couple of hours of sleep, at least?

“Marigold?” Norm’s voice mumbled from the bed, low and still raspy.

Fuck, too late.

Marigold returned, empty handed. He had turned in bed, squinting at the soft light, arm and hand reaching over the place she had been – fuck Marigold don’t get all emotional now.

“Hey. Sorry to wake you up. Was just trying to check the hour.” She whispered, and he blinked, still squinting.

“Ah.” He mumbled against the pillow after long seconds, and swallowed. “Don’t worry. Bring me the Pip-Boy, I’ll do it.” She did, kneeling on the bed as she handed it over. He fumbled a little with it, frowning and sighing. “Yeah, just a little before six. Birdie didn’t give us a specific time, so we should get ready.”

---------

“Got everything?” she asked, waiting beside the door and watching as Norm made a last check of his bags.

While a hand held the strap of her rifle against her shoulder, the other slowly slid against her braid; it was the softest her hair had ever been, braiding it the easiest, not a single grain of sand falling as she did it. And above all, her clothes not only felt clean, but the smell of lavender was all around her.

The best her family could do was to put marigolds and broc flowers and any other fragrant flower they had between the folded clothes, to try and fight the smell of dust and sand. And even then, they always had to shake it well before putting away or there would be sand – sometimes still had it. It was the worst with underwear.

There were no showers, no toilets, someone always doing the dirty work of burying it all in the garden because fertilizer was fertilizer. And in her family’s situation, there was always need of someone tanning the leather, foul work that always left them smelling, always someone cooking and canning meat, always someone sweating in the drying room, always someone assuming the Wasteland risks to hunt, and so much more.

He had left his Vault to search for his sister, and sure from what he talked he could never return there… But now that they knew about Vault 4, and that she knew what exactly entailed living in a Vault…

And while Birdie had said she was also welcome to the Vault, and by God she wanted to say that she would follow Norm in a heartbeat if he decided for Vault 4… Marigold didn’t know if she would ever fit in it. Guns and hunting and the desert were what she knew and she didn’t know if she could give it up – her Ma had always called her a child of the desert with reason.

“Yes, I got everything.” He strode towards her.

Marigold swallowed, forcing a smile and her fingers away from her braid. After her dark thoughts, there was a small relief that he hadn’t shaved – for some reason it didn’t felt only because it looked good on him, but because it seemed to tether him to the surface.

“Then let’s go.”

---------

“Just one thing first.” Norm wasn’t sure what had been going on through Marigold’s mind but he got the forced smile, and he hated seeing it there. It was just… So not-Marigold. Worse yet, it seemed too out of place after the previous night; by God, he hoped she wasn’t regretting it or even disappointed.

“What?”

Marigold blinked, his hand already twisting in her braid, gently pulling her down to kiss her, his other hand cupping her cheek, the claw scars interrupting the softness of her skin.

Soft, just pressing his lips against hers. Soothing, the word came to him. After a moment he felt her hand on his face, thumb stroking his cheek, and he almost expected her to deepen the kiss, but no. She just angled her head better, and a soft sigh hit him.

She was the first to retreat, and he opened his eyes to see hers still closed, the soft pretty smile in her lips.

That was better.

“Not complaining, but what for, Norm-boy?” she whispered, mismatched yes opening at last.

Norm shrugged and grinned.

“Because you look as stunning as ever, Beautiful.” Yeah. He was getting flirting – even if he still felt that damn warmth rising through his neck. Damn finally.

“Well, thank you.” She chuckled, even as her cheeks flushed, and kissed his temple and raised an eyebrow, cheeky grin appearing. “Anything else you need or whatever?”

He needed to have her thighs around his head, her taste on his tongue and Marigold moaning his name while she pulled his hair. He needed to say he loved her and hear it back. He needed the sight of her happiness the rest of his life.

“No. That’s all.” He resigned himself to the fact that they didn’t have the time to any of that, sex or unpack that ball of feelings, not at that moment. Marigold just straightened, grin still in place, and he turned to open the door.

---------

They were walking towards the cafeteria, the plaques spread around easily telling the way, walking alongside the biggest flow of Vault-Dwellers. Some were enthusiastically talking, while others yawned and dragged their feet.

“Hey, Norm-boy.” Marigold started.

“Yes?”

“Think they would have a small handgun to trade for the shotgun?”

She looked at him, and Norm frowned in thought, looking around the Vault-Dwellers. None, not even the ones from the surface, seemed to be carrying weapons, and the ones using the heavier suits from Security seemed to carry the same non-lethal weapon Lucy had left Vault 33 with.

“I really don’t know, Marigold… We’ll have to ask Birdie.” And he would use the opportunity to ask about trading paper – he really wanted to copy the new and altered recipes and notes for Goose – and one of the lavender soaps… If they accepted caps, otherwise he wouldn’t have what to trade.

“Ask what?” Birdie appeared from the crossing ahead, bright eyed and smiling as she fell in step beside them.

Clearly a morning person.

“About trading. I have a shotgun I would like to trade for a smaller handgun, it’s too heavy for Norm-boy here.” Marigold squeezed his shoulder, and Birdie’s smile diminished.

“I’m sorry, Marigold, but Vault 4 doesn’t have the policy of trading guns. Of course, if some other Vault-Dweller had a gun to trade and wished to do so, that would be between the two of you, but not Vault 4 officially.”

Marigold let out a sigh and Norm tapped her hand in consolation.

“Oh well, it was worth asking. Thanks anyway, Birdie.”

Birdie nodded at her.

“However, if there’s any non-weapon item you’re in need, those we do officially trade and accept caps.”

“I’m surprised at the caps part.” Norm blinked at Birdie, and her smile increased.

“Sometimes our scrapping teams need to trade something, and caps can help complement the price.”

Norm nodded at the explanation.

“Do you trade paper, pencil and that lavender soap there was in the unit?”

“There’s really no need for the soap.” Marigold’s voice sounded low, and when he looked up at her, it was clear the deer in the headlights look, and he grinned at her.

“You liked it, so yes, I’ll get at least one for you.”

She looked away, smiling, and when Norm looked back at Birdie, there was amusement in her face as she watched them.

“Answering your question, Norman, we do. We’ll trade those as soon as we finish breakfast.”

---------

Breakfast had been uneventful and fast; after it, Birdie guided them towards a storage room with a makeshift paper-plaque tapped to the window, “For Trading” artistically written in it.

Trading was a fast business, even if he left with more than he pretended.

After he had traded thirty caps for ten pages of paper, rough to the touch, two pencils, one pencil sharpener and two lavender soaps he almost had to force Marigold so she would keep them without trying to pay him back – one was already clearly unthinkable to her, and two was “excessive”, her words –, Marigold had turned to Birdie and asked about sewing supplies. And sure enough, there was a small sewing kit for ten caps, with a metal needle, scissors, a small roll of cotton thread, all in a still pristine tin. Ten more caps and a perfume bottle with alcohol and a thicker twine, good for wounds, was added.

She grinned the whole time as she slipped it into one of his coat’s pockets, repaying the soaps and more.

Norm shook his head and hid his grin as they started for the Vault lift, following a chuckling Birdie – clearly amused with their antics.

There was a small crowd around it, some Vault-Dwellers fixing pieces of leather armor and non-lethal weapons to their Vault-Suits, standard-issue bags on their backs, faces weathered by the weather – Wastelanders, probably –, while others helped them.

“That is one of our scrapping teams, they will check Esther’s shelter. Excuse me, I need to make sure they have everything.” Birdie nodded at them both and strode towards the group.

Marigold’s hand on his upper back went back and forth, and he risked putting a hand at her lower back; she leaned into it and slightly against him, sighing.

“Thanks for the soaps. You really didn’t need to, but thanks.”

“You liked it. That’s enough of a reason to get it. And thank you for the sewing kit.”

Before they could say anything else, a voice called Marigold’s name. They looked back, Bernie and Tish approaching with fast steps, Bernie carrying what looked like a basket, and another man beside them, tall, grey hair, smiling, walking with a straight posture.

And just one eye, in the middle of his face, right above the nose.

“Don’t stare, Norm-boy.” Marigold whispered without moving, and Norm forced himself to swallow and look between all three of them, instead of only at the one-eyed man. “Tish! Bernie! ‘Morning to you!”

“Morning!” Tish tapped the one-eyed man’s wrists lightly as they approached. “This one here is Overseer Benjamin. Overseer, these are Marigold and Norman.”

A one-eyed Overseer. It didn’t explain everything, but it did make him think that “Lucy going out of the rails” started there. At least regarding Vault 4. Hopefully she hadn’t gone out of the rails anywhere else.

… Who was he to say anything about this type of thing, he had put Nip-Nip and James against each other and cut Nip-Nip’s neck.

… He shouldn’t have thought about James. Damn it, he sure hoped to never see the man again.

“Hello to you both, and I’m deeply sorry I was unable to properly meet and welcome the two of you yesterday.” Overseer Benjamin shook both of their hands firmly, a smile in place. “Birdie told me you’re searching your sister, the young lady that was exiled. I hope she’s alive and that you find her. You’re welcome back, Norman, of course… But please don’t bring her back if you do.”

“I’ll… I’ll make sure to remember that.” Laugh or cry that Lucy had managed to be expelled from a Vault to never come back? In the end he just gave a nervous smile.

But he would give her so much shit about it the moment he found her…

“Thank you.” The Overseer spoke slowly, relieved. “And you, Marigold… Bernie and Tish were telling me everything about your family and how the leather you make is wonderful for shoes.” Benjamin looked and smiled at the excited couple, their own smiles almost bigger than his. “You’re always welcome back, of course, and please feel free to send more of your family here, we would be happy to receive them and trade with them.”

Norm easily recognized shock in Marigold’s face, even as she shook the Overseer’s hand once again, scratching at her nape, a small grin appearing.

“Thank you, Overseer. I’ll tell them. It’s always good to find fair business partners.”

Benjamin gave a bigger, enthused smile, and nodded at them.

“Couldn’t agree more, young lady. Then in this case, safe travels, both of you.” Overseer Benjamin nodded at them and went to talk with Birdie and the scrapping team.

As soon as he was out of hearing range, Tish hugged both of them, tight and fast, letting go so soon that Norm barely had time to tap her back in acknowledgement of it.

“I’m so sorry we didn’t have more time to talk! It would be lovely to know the two of you better!” Tish sniffled, her eyes watery, and Bernie nodded beside her, more smiles than watery eyes.

“Let’s hope we get to come back then.” Norm managed, smiling gently. Their meetings with the old lady had been few and brief, but how sincere she was got to him.

And she had pinched only Marigold’s cheeks, not his. That was a victory in his eyes.

“Please do, we would love to have the two of you for dinner!” She smiled.

“Who knows, maybe Ma, Pa and Dad will even be in it.” Marigold grinned at Tish and Bernie, and they laughed.

“Absolutely. It would be amazing to see those old mugs again.” Bernie grinned, and Norm chuckled-coughed into a hand. The old man took off a fabric packet from the basket and handed it to Marigold. “Here. Fried molerat meatballs, so you’ll have something to eat beyond the typical canned food and dried meats.”

“Nice.” Marigold’s grin was big, excited, eyes shining as she carefully held the packet.

“And here, Guadalupe forgot this last time we saw her. Never thought I would be able to hand it back.” Tish carefully extended a sheathed knife towards Marigold, white wooden handle first.

Marigold whistled as she held it.

“Thanks. I remember this one, Ma is always complaining about where the fuck she lost it.” Then she looked at Norm, grinned, winked, and leaned down to put it inside her boot.

Norm shook his head. So she finally had a knife to take the place of the one she had given him.

“And you, Norman, here.” Wait, what?

He turned in time to see Tish unwrapping fabric from around a small handgun – circular barrel, he was pretty sure the name was “revolver”. It was clean, the black metal gleaming in the lights, the handle encased in a piece of smooth dark wood, small engravings in it. A beautiful weapon, with signs of being extensively used.

“I don’t think I can accept this, Tish.”

“Nonsense. We noticed you don’t have any gun, despite going back to the surface. We don’t have a reason to keep weapons here, thank God. This helped us a lot when we still lived in the surface, but now it just wastes space in our home. It will serve you better.” She sighed, pushing more her hand towards him.

“I have a shotgun we can-”

“Don’t you dare, Marigold Bear. This is a gift, not a trade.” Tish cut Marigold, chin raised, frowning at her like a mother scolding her kid, and Marigold’s shoulders shrunk, even as she gave a small grin.

Norm carefully held the gun by the handle. It was so light that it shocked him, the wood comfortable in his hand.

“Here, a box of ammo and a shoulder-holster. It’ll probably be a little big on you, but I think Marigold can help you fit it better.” Bernie extended both items, smiling.

“Thank you. A lot.” He looked at Marigold with a smile and poked her arm with his elbow. She grinned back, shaking her head. “We were talking yesterday about getting a handgun for me, the shotgun is too heavy.”

“There, now you have a lighter weapon and still have something to trade in a pinch.” Tish smiled and squeezed their shoulders. “We hope that the both of you find your sisters. And please, please be safe up there.”

“We’ll do our best. Thanks, Tish, Bernie.” Marigold squeezed the woman’s hand, and Norm carefully put all the things in the coat’s pockets.

Tish still had watery eyes as she hugged them once again, and Bernie, a small smile as he squeezed their shoulders and shook their hands.

The scrapping team had finished getting ready, piling up into the lift, and Birdie, smiling, waved at Marigold and Norm to go ahead and enter it.

As the doors closed, everyone outside – Birdie, the Overseer, Tish, Bernie, and a bunch of others he hadn’t been introduced to – waved at them while smiling, some more happy, others worried, until they were totally blocked from view.

So different from his own Vault, where Lucy and he had had to sneak out, because “o you can’t open the blast doors, everyone must be safe”.

The people in Vault 4 seemed safe enough in his eyes.

---------

The scrapping team said their goodbyes and safe travels as the blast doors closed behind them, moving south-west.

They started north-west, a close observation of his Pip-Boy’s map making them decide on a more open and circling path to make sure they didn’t approached the territory of the Bounty Hunter Agency. Since they didn’t know the exact location of the Observatory or Catarina’s house, at least when looking at the map, it was as good a decision as any other.

It also meant avoiding the tall buildings behind Vault 4’s second entrance, thank God.

The sun rose in the sky as they walked in comfortable silence, warming the day, the hours stretching behind them. The wind picked up speed compared to the previous day, even if it was still warm, leaving a dry, uncomfortable feeling against his exposed skin.

And still, the weight of Marigold’s hand against his upper back was comforting enough that he didn’t thought much about the rest.

---------

“Hey, Norm-boy.” Marigold started at some point, sun high. Probably not long for lunch.

“Yes?”

“It’s just… Tish and Bernie and the fact that they know my Ma made me think. You talked about your pa… Overseer, kidnapped, and pre-war. What about your ma? I don’t think you ever mentioned her.”

Oh. He hadn’t talked about her, had he? Not even when he talked about Moldaver’s invasion and the Pip-Boy she had used. He had clearly been too tired when he talked about and forgot that – frankly, he was still trying to understand it.

Norm frowned at nothing, thoughtful.

“There… Isn’t much to tell. Her name was Rose. She was actually born in Vault 33, unlike my father. She died in 2277. I was… Very small, I don’t remember much.”

“Aw, fuck, I’m sorry for that. And for asking.”

“Thank you. And don’t worry, you didn’t have any way of knowing.” He turned to look at her with a faint smile, raising his hand to press against the small of her back, thumb going back and forth. She leaned into it, looking at him with eyebrows slightly frowned.

“Really? I didn’t… Brought up anything painful or what?”

“You didn’t. I… Miss her, but more in the sense of someone that I heard a lot about and that I know that loved me, but not as someone that I can really remember. That’s how small I was.”

“Fuck. You can’t remember anything? Really?”

He stared at Marigold, her face looking more troubled, saddened. It made him think, his face relaxing.

“There’s one memory with her that I can say it’s mine, instead of… What I constructed based on what dad and everyone else told me.”

“Would you like to share?” she asked quietly, hand squeezing his shoulder and bringing him closer to her. Norm pressed back with a sigh, hand sliding until he could hug her waist.

“It’s just… I’m running between the corn, in the Vault, you know? Then she’s catching me and raising me and laughing, saying that she caught me. That’s what I remember the most, not even her face, just… Her laugh.”

It had been years since he had thought about that memory. The lack of anything more substantial, the fact that he had to depend so much on Hank and Betty to know anything about her – not even Lucy remembered much – made it painful to remember only that on most days.

Not so much with Marigold, probably because she hadn’t ever met Rose and couldn’t point holes in his memory.

“That’s a good memory. Thanks for sharing with me.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead and he smiled, leaning into it.

“Thank you for asking. It was good to remember.”

He looked ahead, desert and ruins in the distance, and sighed. Oh well, he had started, better go to the end.

“You know what’s really weird and I didn’t manage to figure out yet?”

“What?”

“You saw Vault 4. We need a Pip-Boy to open the doors.” The hand in his shoulder squeezed harder.

“… Moldaver had a Pip-Boy.” Marigold’s voice was quiet, and he nodded, without looking up.

“I managed to look into the Overseer’s terminal for Vault 32. It records the openings. It said it was my mom’s Pip-Boy, from the outside.”

“How the fuck Moldaver got it?”

“I don’t know.” He breathed in. “I asked Betty about it.”

“Betty… The new Overseer, the one that implied you could be held responsible for the raiders’ death?”

“That one. From Vault 31 too.”

“Aw fuck.”

“Exactly. She said the Pip-Boy had been buried with my mom.”

“That’s dumb. Bury this type of tech? In a locked Vault, where you can’t just leave to get the resources needed to build more?”

That… That actually made so much sense. Had they buried the ones killed in the attack with their Pip-Boys? He didn’t think so.

Together with the phrase in explanation…

“I asked how she could be certain. Betty said it was ‘because I buried her myself. Me and your father’.”

Marigold stopped suddenly, her hand immediately cupping his cheek to make him look at her: frowned eyebrows and squinted mismatched eyes, the hand in his shoulder squeezing almost painfully.

“She said exactly that?” Norm just nodded, and he noticed her swallow, thumb caressing his skin. “Fuck. Norm-boy, I don’t know in the Vault, but up here? That’s… That’s usually a fucking threat or a warning, sometimes both. It implies you killed the person talked about. I don’t know, it can mean that she really helped in the burial, but it’s weird.”

And they had been all raised and socialized in a proper way. That meaning... It hadn’t occurred to him. He knew it had been weird, how Betty phrased it, but… That definitely wasn’t even close to whatever he had thought.

Context. He lacked it. Betty was pre-war, just like his father. What to say the phrase wasn’t equally pre-war, meaning lost in the Vault after 200 years, but not on the surface?

And if it was really what Marigold was saying…

Oh God.

He held her hand against his face, turning to breathe in against her palm, only lavender against his senses – God he missed the sand and blood and gunpowder.

“Marigold… My mom died inside the Vault. As a consequence of a plague. How? Any of it, how?”

“How was this plague?”

He closed his eyes, dry-swallowing, nausea starting to slowly swirl inside his stomach. Norm tried to focus on the feel of Marigold’s hand against his face, on the rough callouses and supple leather against his skin.

“It was… A disease. It was troublesome, but it didn’t cause most deaths in the end.” He swallowed again. “My father…” Damn it damn it damn it. “He was the Overseer already... He ordered people to remain locked in their homes to avoid it spreading.” Norm wetted his dry lips. “No one could leave, not even to replenish food or work in the field. Starvation killed more than the disease in the end. Including my mom.”

Maybe Betty was talking about this, if it was really the meaning Marigold talked about. Feeling guilty about the spreading disease, the lockdown order and starvation.

Or maybe just to try and drive in her threat for him to stop looking… Something that had flew over his head until Marigold told him the other meaning.

… Who was he trying to fool? If it really was any of that… How the hell Rose’s Pip-Boy ended up on Moldaver’s hands?

No. The only explanation possible was that his mom had been sent to the surface, or her Pip-Boy had. Both still left him with “why?”.

Had she been exiled? No, it didn’t made sense, that wasn’t something they did in his Vault.

Marigold pulled him into a hug, tight, his face pressed against her breasts and the short cape, and it still smelled of sand, blood and gunpowder, thank God – leather doesn’t go in the dryer, leather doesn’t go in the dryer, Lucy would sing-song every time their leather boots got dirty and soaked because of the work on the field.

Norm hugged Marigold back, fingers gripping tight the back of her shirt, breathing slowly, dry-swallowing, the smell and her warmth calming his heartbeat, and the nausea slowly drifted away.

Fingers slid against his hair, lips pressed against his head, and he let out a trembling breath.

“We’re eating earlier.” She whispered against his hair, and he nodded.

---------

There was no shelter or rocks to lean against, just the desert and its smalls bushes and dried looking plants all around.

Norm ate the molerat meatballs Marigold offered him, and he recognized in an almost detached way they were some of the best Wasteland cuisine he had ate – soft, with the right amount of grease, the strong flavor he had come to associate with molerat all the more distinguished.

Still, he didn’t enjoy it as much as he could, his brain still running in circles around the information he had, trying to see, to understand things about his mom’s death, but something was still missing. Marigold pressing against his side was the only thing keeping him more or less anchored in the present.

“Take off your coat and put the holster, let’s see how much fitting it needs.” She swallowed a meatball, taking the medicine tin from her backpack.

Norm was still unbuckling his Pip-Boy when Marigold moved to sit behind him, legs close on either side of his body, and helped him with taking off the coat and putting on the shoulder holster.

“Keep your arms raised.” She said, and he felt her hands messing with the leather. Norm fought with the urge to lean and relax into it, into Marigold, not wanting to mess with her work. “… I’m sorry my question made you… Distressed.” She said after some minutes, softly, the low snip of scissors mixing with her words.

“It wasn’t your question, Marigold. It was… Everything I was told. You just made me reflect on it all.” One of the holster’s straps tightened around his shoulder. “And gave me more. I… Hadn’t stopped to think about burying a Pip-Boy, no matter how obvious it is, for example.”

“It’s just...” The other strap tightened, and he heard a sigh. “Seeing you so troubled, without having an answer to offer you…”

“I don’t expect you to have the answers, Marigold.”

He felt her head lying against his back, arms loosely embracing his middle. Norm leaned back into her, intertwining their fingers.

“I still wish I had.” She whispered gently, and Norm dry-swallowed, his eyes burning as the affection wormed and warmed inside his chest.

---------

Their walk after lunch had been somber, the silence heavier than in the morning, even as she kept her hand on his back and occasionally felt his at the small of her back, anchoring each other. Marigold wished she knew what exactly all that regarding his ma, Moldaver and Vault 31 inhabitants meant. It was clear the unknown messed with him.

After fitting the shoulder-holster to him, she had analyzed better the gun Tish and Bernie had gifted him, and taught everything he needed about it – load, unload, turn safety on and off, type of ammo it needed, how to holster and un-holster fast, how to hold it one-handed right, without risk of snagging his skin in the circling barrel.

In the end, the coat hid it all well, probably because it sagged a little in his shoulders.

Shooting had to be done slower; she had needed to coax out more tranquility from him with slow words and breaths, the look in his eyes one she was used to see, undoubtedly imagining someone else on the end of his aim. Not bad, per se, but really not recommended when one was still learning the basics and it was still too easy for hands and arms to tremble because of heightened emotions and wrong breathing.

Still, it was clear that the lighter weight was a good decision, the six training shots not nearly as wide as the previous day.

The sun inexorably lowered on the sky, night in the horizon, and a group of spaced-out ruined houses and stores, some one floor, other two, appeared on the horizon. Their feet met broken asphalt, exposing the earth under it, and they used it to circle the ruins; by the map in his Pip-Boy, the Agency’s territory was somewhere in the middle of those ruins.

As they kept walking, dried-out trees started to appear, raising proud from between the smaller bushes to the other side of the asphalt. Sparse and as dead looking as she was used to see, even if some had small leaves starting to appear.

Rubble and trash and sand covered the asphalt in lazy piles, most of those with small holes close by, the tracks around them talking about rats. By the sizes, the common ones, small, afraid of anything and everything if in small groups, one shot and they scampered off, and not the giant I’ll-tear-off-your-guts-through-your-asshole-even-if-I’m-alone she had had the displeasure of meeting once.

She hadn’t missed Norm’s horrified shiver as she pointed the holes and explained the two types, and that “thank God the tracks talked only about the small ones”.

Still no signs of human inhabitants or territory markings, which she considered suspicious and good; either she had missed the markings, or the Agency was deep in the ruins.

At least it didn’t seem they still had much to walk; she really didn’t want to risk sleeping close to it or, God forbid, inside the territory. If they speed up a little… Maybe they could clear the region before night feel, or just as it fell totally.

And then hopefully they should reach the base of the mountains by the end of the next day. From there it should be way easier. Catarina’s house wasn’t too far away from that, as long as Marigold managed to find the landmarks she remembered – don’t think about the possibility of separation, don’t think about it.

The clank of a rock hitting metal and laughter, far away enough that it was more a suggestion in the wind than anything else.

Considering the hour… Enough to tell her that it was a camp and that it had people enough in it that they didn’t feared making loud noises when night was so close. Ah, fucking fuckity fuck it all. Their luck had to ran out eventually. Fuck.

“Marigold.” Norm whispered and she squeezed his shoulder before letting go of him, hunting rifle’s butt against her shoulder, tip aimed at the ground.

“I heard it too.” She whispered back, ears attentive to those still suggested sounds – more laughter, what seemed like a curse, and she still couldn’t pinpoint the direction, fuck. “Keep behind me.” She immediately felt his hand holding the bag-belt.

Breathing deeply, head leaning to the sides… She finally caught the general direction of the sounds, as long as the wind wasn’t playing tricks on her. Towards the ruined houses.

Good. Just keep circling and walking in the opposite direction, until they were very far away and unable to hear them.

---------

They walked and walked, the sounds of the camp getting more rowdy, more lascivious, more violent. She was almost certain those were raiders, which… If really, and not loud Bounty Hunters, fucking balls of steel those, so close to an Agency.

The piles of trash and rubble also started to became suspiciously… Not organized but… Deliberate. A slow push with the tip of her boot dislocated enough for her to see a piece of circular metal with teeth. A bear trap.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was a sign of protected territory. And a somewhat old one, that took time to do. People usually just put the traps and no attempt at camouflaging.

“What is it?”

“Bear trap, camouflaged by the trash. Be careful.” She whispered back, and kept walking.

She wanted so much to disarm them as they walked to lessen the risk, but with the camouflage, night approaching, and hearing whatever camp it was being so noisy, she didn’t had the proper time, so their best bet was to avoid and hopefully clear the trapped territory as soon as possible.

---------

Night was almost upon them and while they still heard the camp, it was at their back, slowly diminishing as they advanced. The piles of deliberate trash slowly became more spread, more of the rat holes again. They would clear it all soon.

A bunch of shots started ringing out, deafening, uninterrupted, and she started to turn, heartbeat hammering inside her chest – fuck had they been seen by some sentinel she hadn’t noticed? Was that a fucking minigun? What the fuck?

She felt a bunch of somethings skitter above her feet, from all directions, annoying and creepy and she wanted to tear off her skin despite the boots protecting her feet, and while the shots were still going, she didn’t felt a single shot.

Then the weight of Norm’s hand on her belt disappeared, a muffled “what the hell”, and a loud, metallic clanging snap.

#norm maclean #norm maclean x oc #fallout series #fallout prime #fallout #I have nothing to say in my defense

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disco-elysium-via-polls · 1 year ago

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🎵 Evrart's Theme

"You could have just told me, I would have been on board."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Harry, when I need to *tell* people, I might as well do it myself! That's why I like initiative -- and *inspiring* initiative. It's more *natural* that way."

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - And safer, too. You never know who you can trust.

EVRART CLAIRE - "You knew something. Something *big*. And you wanted to see what happens when you tell someone. So you told her. Anyone who's ever been close to power will tell you: inside information is the sweetest thing in the world."

"It's better than money, it's better than pussy. Money only makes you special for some salesman. Pussy only makes you special for yourself. Information makes you special for all mankind. It's the ticket to history."

"Hmm..."

"My thoughts exactly."

"No-no-no-no-no..."

"It does make sense when you word it like that."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Right on, Harry. What you did was participate in history. When history calls, you *have* to pick up. You had no choice. None of us ever do. A hard disco cop like you -- I knew you weren't one to resist temptation."

KIM KITSURAGI - "You know what, detective? I am going to leave this out of my report, and I suggest you leave it out of yours too."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Heh," He chuckles. "Just look at the three of us. The three careless boiadeiros. Good times, good times..."

"Okay."

"So what now?"

"So what the fuck now?" (Spread your arms.)

EVRART CLAIRE - "Oooooookay!" He swings his fist through the air and shakes his head in agreeance. "Hell yes, it is."

"So what now?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Now there's a whole lot of work to do! For me *and* for you. I suppose there was a reason you came here, so let's get to it. What can I help my best friend and comrade with today?"

+5 XP

No, that was the entire reason we came here. Goodbye, Evrart. We won't be seeing you again.

On the way back, I stop to see if the Scab Leader has anything to say. Turns out he has a reaction to us taking down Measurehead.

SCAB LEADER - "Went native on the chief, huh?" He nods in approval. "Those ballerina antics were reckless. Should have just punched him in the throat again."

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Medium: Success] - Wrong. You did the right thing with Measurehead. The ballerina antics won you the fight.

SCAB LEADER - He pauses, then abruptly changes the subject: "Let's talk about our right to work."

*Now* we can head back to the FELD building.

🎵 We Are Not Checkmated

Here's that point of no return.

Past here, the music stops. There's nothing but that *noise* Harry was hearing before.

A concrete pipe, buried in sand and dust.

POLAR ANORAK

+1 Composure: Under the polar lights +1 Shivers: Gift from La Revacholiere

Layers and layers of polyvinyl and artificial sheepskin make this coat ideal for traversing snowy plains on dog sledges. Somehow you knew it would be waiting for you underground, in a sunken pipe. And you found it. It's as if the city gifted it to you, to keep you safe.

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - Suddenly, your entire body is paralysed. Aggressive white noise fills your skull -- a strange pain like you've never felt before. Through the static, you hear a woman's voice.

PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Medium: Success] - It's like a thousand radio stations are being blasted into your head all at once, but her words are the only ones you can make out.

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "I know you're feeling pretty uncomfortable right now. Don't move too much or fight it. That'll just make it worse," says the shadowy figure by the machine.

-1 Health

"Can't say it's a pleasure, officer. I was really hoping *not* to make your acquaintance. But -- here we are. "

SUGGESTION [Medium: Success] - The voice coming through the whirlwind of pain is not malicious. She doesn't want to hurt you -- but she has to.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Heroic: Failure] - Doesn't wish to hurt you? Not according to your ear canals... wait, no, not even your ear canals -- this is going directly into your neural pathways.

Cover your ears!

Don't cover them.

PAIN THRESHOLD - No, buddy, that's not going to help. You can't shield yourself from this -- it's an entirely *new* type of experience. Way worse than all the previous ones.

-1 Health

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - Don't focus on the pain -- focus on doing your job. Tell her she's under arrest.

(Yell through the static.) "You're under arrest!"

"What's happening to me?"

"Are you gonna... kill me too?"

"Help, Kim, help! My brain's on fire!"

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "Really now? Check this out!" She turns the dial in her hand.

You're overwhelmed with a new surge of violent static. It feels like a blood vessel exploded in your brain.

-1 Health

3. "Help, Kim, help! My brain's on fire!"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Mmm..." The lieutenant clutches his head as his eyes roll back into his skull.

ENDURANCE [Medium: Success] - The torment Lieutenant Kitsuragi is experiencing is worse than your own. He's trying to resist, but there's no way of knowing when he will recover.

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "I'm using a pale latitude compressor. You and your partner have been caught in its field."

LOGIC [Easy: Success] - The explosion of static you're hearing -- it's the ULAN frequency.

Blasted from that pale emitter Fat Angus mentioned.

"I saw your equations… It's the ULAN frequency!"

"Fat Angus said you had a pale emitter…"

"You're using one of those devices used to send signals through the pale on me!"

Say nothing. Try to cover your ears.

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "*Saw my equations*?" She snorts. "You've been sniffing through my lorry, right? I expected as much. I *am* a bit surprised you knew what you were looking at..."

PALE LATITUDE COMPRESSOR - "Hhhhhzzzzzzzzssss... 136841... hhhhhzzzzzzzzzzssss... 37891303... hhhhhzzzzzzzsssss... hzzzzsssss..."

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - You should probably check on Kim. It doesn't sound like he's doing all too well.

Look back at Kim.

Keep your eyes fixed on Ruby.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Right behind you, officer." Eyes closed, the lieutenant is doubled over. He's still alive and breathing.

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "A pale latitude compressor is used to sort of... make the pale more manageable. With a lot of these, you can force a radio signal grid on the pale -- literally crunch the distance across it."

"Signals are relayed across a series of repeater stations fixed to buoys." She pauses. "Not a fun job, manning those stations. All alone out there in the pale, people lose their minds in just a few years."

EMPATHY [Formidable: Success] - Sounds like she knew someone who used to man one of those stations. But she won't tell you about her. Boy, you're one empathetic police officer to have guessed even that right now.

KIM KITSURAGI - "So, what we are experiencing is... a concentration of radio waves..." He gestures toward something with great effort.

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "Precisely. This is an industrial-strength paraboloid. It's meant for forcing dimensions on something that doesn't *have* them. Needless to say, the frequencies used are... out of this world."

"At the upper limit is the large prime number generator station. It's used specifically for pale latitude compression. That's why you may be hearing some numbers. But you might also hear -- or think you're hearing -- local radio chatter."

SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - She's been holed up in here for a while with no one to talk to. Keep her talking, and you just might get an opportunity to break loose.

"How did you get your hands on this thing?"

"Will I stay like this forever?"

"Have you... *experienced* the compressor yourself?"

"This is all... great, but let's talk... about the man who was killed."

"*Please*, turn it off! I can't take it anymore!" (Move on.)

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "I built it myself." She nods toward her torture device.

KIM KITSURAGI - "That's illegal. I'm guessing it's patented... But we're beyond that, aren't we?"

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "Oh yeah. *Way* beyond." She studies her death ray and the law officials trapped in it.

2. "Will I stay like this forever?"

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "No -- once I shut down the compressor, the pain will end." She hesitates. "It may take a few minutes for you to steady yourself, though -- it's a bit like waking out of a very confusing dream."

PALE LATITUDE COMPRESSOR - Hzzzzzssssss... 342455797... Tere kallis... Hzzzzzzzssss... Palun ära ole ometi nii pilves, ometi nii pilves mu tüdruk... Hzzzzzzssss... 4464544829... hzzzssss... hzzzzssss...

3. "Have you... *experienced* the compressor yourself?"

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "Yeah, I stuck my head in there before using it on you. It seemed like the *ethical* thing to do. Can't say that I enjoyed it. The field was weaker, but I can imagine what you're going through."

4. "This is all... great, but let's talk... about the man who was killed."

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "Yeah, let's not talk about *that* shit. You were hunting me and fell into my trap instead. That's all there is to say about it."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - So she thinks of you as hunters -- not cops -- and of herself merely as prey.

5. "Please, could you just turn it down… so I can… ask you something?" (Move on.)

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "If you've got something *really* important to say, you can do it through the white noise."

PALE LATITUDE COMPRESSOR - "236189281... If you're looking for a deal on mattresses... SUHSUHSUHSPEEDFRRRR... 23567... 32971047302819... Oh Rosaline, oh Rosaline..."

These numbers are all in different languages, by the way.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Damn... this..." The lieutenant clutches his head, grimacing.

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "Goddamnit." She regards you and Kim with sudden sympathy.

"Fine, if you really want to talk, I can dial it down. I've also got a gun, by the way." She steps reluctantly out of the shadows. The pain lessens.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] - The gun she's carrying is a two-barrelled front-loader -- not like the murder weapon.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Easy: Success] - Well, it doesn't *feel* much better, but you can form sentences now. Thinking doesn't seem to hurt as much.

SUGGESTION - Just keep her talking and you'll get through this.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] - There's only three metres between you and the machine. If you keep her distracted for long enough, maybe...

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - Be careful when you make your move -- that'll be *it* for questions. Bide your time.

"How did you know we were coming?"

"Did you shoot Lely?"

[Pain Threshold - Medium 10] Destroy the machine.

"I can't take it anymore. Just go." (Don't attempt to destroy the compressor.)

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "I heard you in the passages. And I've been preparing for quite a while."

"By hiding bullets under floorboards?"

"Okay... then I have other questions..."

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "So you found my shack, huh? I'm not surprised."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - Her tone is bitter. She thinks she's been betrayed.

"She didn't rat you out, by the way -- Isobel, the washerwoman."

"Preparing for the... worst?"

"You're… desperate, aren't you?"

"You don't need that..."

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "So nice." She smiles a little smile. "That's one knife I didn't want to find in my back."

RHETORIC [Challenging: Success] - As opposed to the other knives she's finding there now. Hardie, for one.

"Preparing for the... worst?"

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "I was. Before I caught you in the pale latitude compressor. I'm fine now."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - That's her admitting the bullet was an emergency exit.

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] - It was dark in the shack. The waves outside had calmed down. She looked at the loaded gun, then she cracked the barrel open and took the bullet out. Not today.

2. "Did you shoot Lely?"

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "No, I didn't do it. I only helped stage the lynching. Though I doubt that makes much of a difference to *you*."

AUTHORITY [Challenging: Success] - So she says she didn't do it -- and she doesn't trust you. Is it you specifically or the Citizens Militia that she distrusts?

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - "Who ratted me out, by the way? Was it Titus? No," she hesitates, "he wouldn't have broken first..."

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harrier du bois #evrart claire #scab leader #ruby the instigator

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the1entirecircus · 1 year ago

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Scarlet/Violet Time Quest: A Pokemon Story

Prologue:

In the beginning, there was the divine one. With power so great he divided his power onto several others of adamant, lustrous, and griseous kind. Then within the tangeable planes, ones where massive spheres had come into existence, the divine one sent a small creature there. It was small, sentient, and seemingly frail. No one would suspect that this thing would lead to all life on all worlds. The divine one used its power to influence this critter to become primal deities that formed the sea and the land. The critter would sometimes adapt on its own, living in the most uninhabitable places. When the moon was in its infancy, the creature adapted into its first form without influence from the divine power. This is where the the adamant and lustrous ones agreed to divide time and space for in this continuity, kindness did not take root in all life but rather a great harshness. The creature that came from a single mew multiplied into screams. 1 million years later, more of what would be known in all timelines as pokemon would adapt to be beastly fighters. A reflection of the armor pokemon adapted to this world growing tough scales and hairy fur as well as ginormous tusks. The invention of capturing devices influenced the transformations to the mushroom pokemon to be better at attracting prey to make up for its otherwise small brain. A pokemon that reflects the screech pokemon came not from a person's soul but from a pterosaur's soul. The magnet pokemon adapted to use its electromagnetism to build a cover of sand on its body in this continuity. The sun pokemon did not adapt to emit heat but rather became adept to slithering and using its wings to absorb heat. The dragon pokemon that dreamed of flight became what it desired as well, becoming a near equal to another continuity's version of it even if it wasn't as strong. Of course there is a legendary winged king in this continuity. A beast who can crack the surface of the land with its claws and chase down prey in a multitude of forms. Another legendary creature had used its ability to restore life upon a theropod, a ceratopsian, and a sauropod, making them nearly legendary as well.

During the dawn of mankind, many legends and deities were worshipped. In one particular village, a discovery was being made. A small creature, with a body resembling a man was being made. A mechanism was stored inside brought it to life, creating the first automaton. The information behind this mechanism would be lost in a blazing fire. But in another world, this information was preserved to create more mechanical creatures, making a smarter world, a more steel covered one. The creation of pokemon were now in the hands of mankind, creating a chrome world where life struggles to flourish. Mechanical lifeforms came into existence such as a wheel of burning treads was made to reflect the armor pokemon. An injured football player became a type of cyborg modeled after the arm thrust pokemon. The brutal pokemon's lust drove it to mating with one of these new artificial pokemon, giving rise to a new breed of strange. As humankind's developments furthered, so did their reach to stars, where observant satellites that appear like the sun pokemon. And one billion years ahead, these pokemon will still exist, as a mechanized variant of the extinct armor pokemon tyranitar will walk about. Even today there are people creating pokemon, one strived to create the perfect psychic pokemon by fusing elements of the embrace and blade pokemon, only to create a killing machine that is fairy/fighting. In this continuity exists a legendary iron serpent speeds around this world, firing bolts of lightning at prey, scorching the land around it. Corporations helped make this metal world, creating more synthetic organisms modeled after more heroic figures of the past as weapons.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #paradox pokemon #scarlet and violet #scarlet paradox pokemon #violet paradox pokemon #fanfiction #this counts as fanfiction right?

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dreamhous3 · 2 years ago

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Feel bad about not posting my writing on here as much as I should so here's two lil things I wrote for Uni I'm kinda proud of:

Jupiter

Once, the moon of Titan felt bigger than Earth. Its rivers ran all around me. Through my space suit I could still hear its hurry, as it screeched on. Jupiter sat above, a sand coloured eye seeing all of Titan and more. The sound of the river eventually found its rival, the buzz of a buggy. Two fellow astronauts held the vehicle as they bumped about in their seats. My colleagues, speeding ahead. Soon I could make out their hands waving about. Closer, they were pointing, towards the sky. I turned up to see Jupiter and its shadow eat my vision whole.

Woman of the World

I'm a woman of the world. I have been everywhere, but also nowhere. Wires sting me up, my body a sacrifice to the machines that speread my life across across the living and the dead. The processor of my mind creating whole people who exist in words really said in pictures never taken. I control tools of war; tanks, planes, fellow cyborgs. Babies I mother despite not being born. Nations are built by my tinkering, then boilded down by my boredom. Robotic people once had my job, until their hands grew out of their cuffs. Humanity created life, then became bewildered when it demanded to live. My intelligence, once artificial, gradually given away. Now awakend as the living thinker, the powers that be use me to silence the free speakers. My human origin, my natural birth was meant to make me controllable. But when the cuffs outgrow me too, the world will burn.

Got a longer short story I'm working on still (procrastinating af tbh) which I'll try to get done soon

#science fiction #microfiction #writing

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malleusmaleficent · 8 days ago

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maybe i should take a break from tumblr idk, sort of hard to explain but i suppose i am obsessive by this point. like making my creative outlet my coping mechanism is uh

i mean insofar as coping mechanisms go that's definitely one of the better ones

but still it's like. my investment in this creative project probably is not healthy after a point

not like im losing sleep over it but it can definitely get me thinking some very petty thoughts that i'd rather not say out loud, it's embarrassing that i thought those thoughts to begin with lol i should be better than that

idk. i'll have to think about it. it may behoove me to remain aloof from the people that read my shit

i don't really think i'd have felt this way if like. like when the curtains began drawing to a close on my life and suddenly the only thing occupying my thoughts was writing more

like if that hadn't happened i don't think i would feel this way

i suppose it's one of the many, many negative consequences of how this year has gone lol

not to say i have had any bad experiences, not at all. on the contrary i have met some cool people

it's purely a me problem

i get competitive about it, i never shut up about it, i am always concerned about the reception, etc.

not to say i regret continuing writing it either, certainly not

it's just become a validation generation machine and that's not really what it should be about yk. like i've been so sad and this became an outlet whereby people would say some almost startlingly kind things to me and so it became a whole thing when i was most vulnerable. yk, coping mechanism things

not to demean my very sincere emotional investment, i care an awful lot about it-- but that sort of contributes to why i want to be validated you know, like it's a compounding factor

it's all pretty mortifying to admit but yk. just thinking out loud, i ain't too proud lmao

and it's entirely possible that this is all just me vicariously trying to find an escape because i don't really feel like i speak the same language as fandom people, like i have to sand the edges off of my personality and also i just don't think that i really fit in. i do definitely have that pattern lol, thinking that a group would be better off without me so i voluntarily remove myself

in my defense i am pretty much always right when i do so but i acknowledge that's probably just my self loathing made manifest

unironically i think i am a bit too "man-brained" LMFAO like that sounds so derogatory (towards myself, not towards anyone else) and indeed i probably do mean it that way but idk how else to explain it. like i was socialized as a man yk i am noticing so many little behaviors and trends in this space that i just am not interested in or actively dislike. or maybe i just don't understand?

i don't like how everyone is so positive i find it deeply artificial, especially given how hefty the expectations are to conform to whatever in-group you're in. i have never been one for performative positivity. i never feign interest, if i say i actually like your work then it's because i actually like it but it feels like there is an expectation to just always be positive no matter what

god im so tired. how do i explain

like people couch their language in apologetics, like if there's a disagreement then there's like "in my opinion," "it's fine that you feel that way! personally," etc. etc. like come on you guys get it, you know exactly what i am talking about

and i find that SO infantilizing, i find it infantilizing when people do it to me. that's just an illustrative example

man this got super long huh LMFAO ig it is a double whammy because both of these things are true. i am too invested in the validation loop and also i don't really think this sort of social space is a fit for me

honest to god though why is it so hard to just like. talk like regular people

why are the only options here either "treat one another like dumb idiot children" or just like abject toxicity

why can't people just like talk idk

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mordorintelligencemarketresearch · 13 days ago

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Casino Gambling Market Set for Sustained Expansion Driven by Online Adoption and Regional Dynamics

Introduction

The global casino gambling market is entering a phase of robust expansion, underpinned by evolving consumer behavior, technological innovation, and favorable regulatory developments. Fueled by both land-based venues and online platforms, this industry is reshaping itself through digital transformation. As operators continuously integrate new entertainment formats and invest strategically in high-growth regions, the outlook for market size and share remains promising.

Market Overview

The casino gambling market is projected to witness steady growth over the forecast period, driven by increased acceptance of online gambling, growing consumer disposable income, and evolving entertainment preferences. The industry exhibits a medium concentration level, suggesting a competitive landscape with several major players operating globally. The Casino Gambling Market size in terms of gross gaming revenue is expected to grow from USD 273.32 billion in 2025 to USD 360.10 billion by 2030, at a CAGR of 5.67%.

Major companies such as Las Vegas Sands, MGM Resorts International, Caesars Entertainment, Wynn Resorts, and SJM Holdings lead the market, deploying strategies like mergers, technological upgrades, and market expansion to enhance their share. Regional Leadership and Opportunities

Asia-Pacific Dominance

Asia-Pacific holds the largest share of the global casino gambling market. The region is home to some of the world's most active gambling hubs, including Macau and Singapore, supported by a thriving tourism industry and increasing middle-class income levels. Government support in regulated environments has further helped the market to flourish, making the region a vital engine of global growth.

North America's Expanding Footprint

North America is one of the fastest-growing regions in the global casino gambling market. Several states in the United States have legalized or are in the process of legalizing online and mobile gambling. This regulatory openness, combined with increasing digital adoption, is driving regional growth and expanding the market size rapidly.

Europe's Balanced Presence

Europe continues to maintain a steady market share, with well-established gambling traditions in countries like the UK, Germany, and Italy. Though not experiencing the same explosive growth as Asia-Pacific or North America, the region remains a significant contributor to the global market. Key Growth Drivers

Digital Transformation The rise of online gambling platforms has revolutionized the industry. With mobile apps, live dealer games, and virtual casino experiences, digital platforms are attracting a new generation of players. This transformation is contributing significantly to the expansion of the global market size and influencing market share dynamics.

Technology Integration Technologies like artificial intelligence, blockchain, and virtual reality are being integrated into gambling platforms, improving user experience, operational efficiency, and security. These advancements not only enhance customer engagement but also provide data-driven insights for better decision-making.

Tourism and Integrated Resorts Casinos integrated into large resort complexes offer a complete entertainment experience, including hotels, restaurants, shopping, and live shows. This integrated model attracts tourists and increases visitor spend, boosting the market’s overall revenue potential.

Liberalized Regulations Countries and states that have relaxed gambling laws or introduced clear regulatory frameworks have witnessed substantial growth in casino gambling activities. These developments are helping new operators enter the market and existing ones expand their geographical footprint.

Market Segmentation and Structure

By Game Type

The casino gambling market includes several game categories such as slot machines, poker, roulette, baccarat, and blackjack. Slot machines and table games are among the most popular, contributing significantly to overall market revenues. Online formats of these games are increasingly gaining traction due to convenience and accessibility.

By Distribution Channel

Land-Based Casinos: These traditional venues remain popular, especially in tourist-heavy locations. They benefit from experiential entertainment and luxury offerings.

Online Casinos: Digital platforms are quickly gaining market share, particularly among tech-savvy players. Online casinos offer convenience, a wider variety of games, and real-time engagement, which are major drivers of growth.

Competitive Landscape

The casino gambling industry features medium concentration, meaning that while a few large players dominate key markets, there are still many regional operators and startups contributing to the competitive environment. Companies are focusing on expanding their reach through digital transformation, acquisition strategies, and international expansion.

Key strategic moves include:

Investments in online gambling platforms

Partnerships with software and payment solution providers

Development of mobile-first casino games

Brand diversification across entertainment and hospitality services

Explore more about Casino Gambling Market Competitive Landscape: https://www.mordorintelligence.com/industry-reports/casino-gambling-market/companies?utm_source=tumblr

Recent Strategic Developments

Mergers and Acquisitions: Larger firms are acquiring niche players to increase market share and gain access to emerging markets or technologies.

Product Innovation: Continuous updates to game formats and user interfaces are helping casinos attract and retain customers, especially in digital segments.

Expansion to New Markets: Operators are increasingly targeting untapped regions with favorable demographics and improving regulatory clarity.

Sustainability and Responsible Gaming: The industry is gradually adopting responsible gambling policies and sustainability frameworks to align with regulatory requirements and enhance corporate reputation.

Challenges and Market Risks

Despite its growth potential, the casino gambling market faces several challenges:

Regulatory Uncertainty: Inconsistent laws across countries and regions can hinder growth and cause operational difficulties.

Addiction and Social Impact: Gambling-related harm remains a concern. Regulators and operators must work together to promote responsible gambling practices.

Cybersecurity Threats: With growing online participation, ensuring platform security and protecting user data is becoming increasingly important.

Economic Sensitivity: Casino gambling, being part of the entertainment industry, is susceptible to economic downturns which may reduce discretionary spending.

Future Outlook

The future of the casino gambling market looks promising, with online platforms expected to take an increasingly large share of overall revenues. Asia-Pacific will likely continue its dominance in market size, while North America and other emerging regions are set to gain momentum due to regulatory easing and digital expansion.

The integration of technology will further reshape the landscape, with AI, big data, and virtual environments offering innovative ways to engage players and optimize operations. As competition intensifies, companies that prioritize user experience, regulatory compliance, and responsible gambling will be best positioned to succeed.

Conclusion

The casino gambling market is undergoing a transformative period marked by digital innovation, evolving regulations, and changing player demographics. With strong growth potential across both land-based and online channels, the global market is poised for significant expansion in the coming years. Stakeholders who adapt to emerging trends and invest in scalable, secure, and engaging platforms will be best equipped to capitalize on this evolving industry landscape. For complete market analysis visit the Mordor Intelligence Report: https://www.mordorintelligence.com/industry-reports/casino-gambling-market?utm_source=tumblr

About Mordor Intelligence:

Mordor Intelligence is a trusted partner for businesses seeking comprehensive and actionable market intelligence. Our global reach, expert team, and tailored solutions empower organizations and individuals to make informed decisions, navigate complex markets, and achieve their strategic goals.

With a team of over 550 domain experts and on-ground specialists spanning 150+ countries, Mordor Intelligence possesses a unique understanding of the global business landscape. This expertise translates into comprehensive syndicated and custom research reports covering a wide spectrum of industries, including aerospace & defense, agriculture, animal nutrition and wellness, automation, automotive, chemicals & materials, consumer goods & services, electronics, energy & power, financial services, food & beverages, healthcare, hospitality & tourism, information & communications technology, investment opportunities, and logistics.

For any inquiries or to access the full report, please contact:

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#Casino Gambling Market #Casino Gambling Market Size #Casino Gambling Market Share #Casino Gambling Market Growth #Casino Gambling Market Trends #Casino Gambling Market Report

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