#Machine Learning & Deep Learning Project Ideas

[technology-123s-blog]

Deep Learning Projects for Students - Takeoff Projects

Deep Learning Projects are exciting and advanced applications of artificial intelligence that solve complex problems by mimicking the way humans think. At Takeoff Projects, we provide a platform for students and professionals to explore and work on innovative deep learning projects that are both educational and practical. These projects involve training neural networks to analyze large amounts of data and make intelligent decisions.

Some popular deep learning projects include image recognition, where models identify objects or faces in pictures, and natural language processing, which helps in building chatbots or translating languages. Deep learning is also used in healthcare to analyze medical images like X-rays to detect diseases, and in self-driving cars to recognize objects on the road and ensure safe navigation.

At Takeoff Projects, we guide learners through real-world projects such as creating speech recognition systems, building recommendation engines like those used by Netflix or Amazon, and designing AI models for time-series forecasting like stock price prediction. We simplify these concepts with hands-on support, making them easy to understand and implement.

We also focus on innovative areas like Generative Adversarial Networks (GANs), which can create realistic images or enhance low-resolution photos, and robotics, where deep learning enables machines to perform tasks like sorting or assembly. These projects not only build technical skills but also prepare learners for a bright future in AI and data science.

Whether you are a beginner or an advanced learner, Takeoff Projects helps you take the first step toward mastering deep learning. By working on these projects, you can gain practical experience and showcase your expertise, opening up exciting career opportunities in this rapidly growing field. Let’s take off into the world of deep learning Projects together!

[sevgilimsatoru]

Error 410: (Self aware!AU, Caleb Edition) Part 1

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 A/N Spin off Summary: A self aware!AU with Caleb and NonMC! reader. Tags: Caleb x reader, Caleb x NonMC! reader, Caleb x fem!reader, Stressedout!reader. Inspired by: @ittybittyfanblog Word count: 1k *"when you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you"* *- Friedrich Nietzsche.*

You've heard that quote.., maybe even read it somewhere before but it didn't matter, not when your eyes were starting to ache, a slight burning sensation pulsing behind your eyelids. The only thing staring back at you were the questions in your assignment. The heels of your palm digging into your eyes, rubbing them, trying to drown out the sensation. You had work to do, upcoming tests countless assignments, projects- the dates and deadlines were already starting to blur. Maybe you should sleep. Take a little break, it wouldn't hurt to rest... The sickening feeling of guilt and shame in your gut was going to stay there- despite the efforts to try and study a little more.

It was your fault, really. You didn't do the things you should've on time, procrastinating and postponing work when you shouldn't have. Unfortunately, time never waits for anyone. A click of the power button broke the silence surrounding your room, closing your laptop. You stood up from your desk, stretching your arms over your head, the sound of bones cracking filling your ears. Slumping down on the bed felt much better- the cold sheets against your heated skin felt good, relaxing even. Your tongue darting out to lick your lips, feeling the chapped skin and the stinging sensation sparking up when the fleshy organ touched a small cut on your lip, caused by the frequent biting and pulling of the skin on your lips. A sigh left your lips, swallowing the dryness in the back of your throat. You felt thirsty, your throat felt dry.. empty but not enough to burn and that was reason enough for your mind to stop you from getting up, along with the effort it was going to take to just get yourself a glass of water. Laying against the cold sheets, your mind wandered thinking about something that might get you to sleep. Sleep was slowly becoming a foreign concept- something that happened few and far in between. Your college studies wasn't making it any better- Doing a degree in law along with criminology honors. You really were crazy to have chosen these subjects but your curiosity often went against your decisions. The need to understand and learn more about the few things that you were interested in. There was only silence surrounding you, until a small **ping!** vibrated through the room and in your ears, looking down at your phone to see a message from the game you spent so much of your time on; Love and Deep space and of course, your precious love interest, Caleb. It was almost insane how your eyes lit up when the loading screen of the game showed up. That pretty boy sitting quietly on the leather chair, asleep. A small poke on his cheek was enough for him to let out the usual autogenerated response you always heard. He was so cute, so pretty, so.. human. It was one of the reasons you liked him so much. Over every other love interest, he just felt like a person. A person you could understand- a person you could relate to. You understood why he did the things he did.

Tapping on the small chat button, Caleb was standing there- looking at you. Interacting with him was comforting in a sense. His little teasing yet sincere comments were enough to make your heart stutter. It had became routine by now, doing the daily tasks- getting gems, playing on the claw machine and the kitty cards. Yeah, maybe the kitty cards would be a good idea today. You still had one kitty card attempt left this week. Playing kitty cards with Caleb was fun to say the atleast. It was annoying how good he was at that game. You could never get three wins in a row, sometimes it made you want to punch him through the screen, affectionately of course. Just when you thought you were going to win, all it took was two cards for the whole game to be flipped in his favor. It was so frustrating. "If you keep winning, I'm not going to play with you.." You muttered to yourself, maybe you should stop talking to yourself when no one was going to reply back. "Maybe you should stop and take care of yourself if you can't even focus on the game," Caleb replied in that small text box. That was new, you hadn't seen a reply like that before.. Now that you think about it, did your MC even say anything for Caleb to reply back? Maybe you had missed it, too focused on the game, too focused on him. After miserably loosing the kitty card mini game, you decided to just chat with him by clicking on tête-à-tête. Talking about studies.. wanting to hear his comforting words but with those limited options, how could you tell about how terrible study habits, your conflicting feelings?

You felt stupid, incompetent, like a failure for not being able to complete some simple assignments but how do you tell all that to a fictional love interest in a game? It was shameful in a way, relying so much on the opinions and comforting of something that wasn't even real? It was just so weird.. how he mattered so much to you. Your thumb caressed the screen of your phone where his cheek was, as if he could feel your touch. It made a burning sensation flare up in the back your throat as the brightness of your screen burned into your retinas. Exhaustion of the day catching upto you. Your body curling up on the sheets of your bed. Yeah, maybe sleep would be better. Maybe you'd dream of him.

A/N- Hi everyone, I'm a new writer so this work might feel like really dry and dull. This is just part 1. I'm going to write more. This fic is inspired by Error 404 fanfic of @ittybittyfanblog. I hope you like it.

[wonder-mei]

His greatest achievement (Honkai:Star Rail’s Dr Veritas Ratio)

失眠者苍 on Weibo

Reminder : I do not write accurately to the lore of the world I am writing. I write whenever there’s an idea

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“Hey, who gave you those roses?” her friend asked curiously as her eyes focuses on the bouquet of red roses wrapped beautifully with cream and dark brown, and tied in cream bow

“Oh, Veritas gave them to me. Beautiful aren't they?” she takes a sniff and shows the bouquet to her friends “They are fresh picked too” 

Her friends looked at each other with confused expressions. Doctor Veritas Ratio, one of the geniuses of all mankind. Knowledgeable in many academic fields, not only does he have the brain, he also has achieved a lot of achievements since he was young, surpassing every professor that is decades older. Despite his intellect, Ratio is well-known for being very egotistical and arrogant. Not one of his students ever disagrees with his lecturers or confronts the grades he gave. Because he knows he is RIGHT. Even other professors or staff do not want to mess with him. 

But her. She is one of the odds. Ratio never does all of those to her. He is calm and gentle whenever she is around. There were students making a study on this privately as to why she is an exception to his egotistical and arrogant. 

And the conclusion is; he is in love with her. 

But she is oblivious to this fact. 

“Why did Dr Ratio give you roses?” 

“Oh he said his roses are overgrown so he gave me them” 

“Only you?”

“Yeah, he said he does not have more to give to others” 

“Also wrapped perfectly” 

“He just wants to use this wrapper he bought. Don’t want to waste”

Each question regarding Ratio’s gifts she would answer them giving reasons as to why he does that but none of them because he loves her after countless of gifts he gave her. From carving a few sets of her favorite animals, buying her books and so more. 

“Don’t you think he has a reason for giving you gifts?”

“Not at all. We share an office so it’s normal for officemates to give each other gifts,right?”

Her friends didn’t answer. They just stare at her “Well I have to go. My worms need some feeding” 

How could a botanist be paired to share an office with the man of every knowledge in this world? It is fate. Ratio was irritated at first for having an officemate that involves themselves around plants and soil but something about her made him forget his emotions and expectations on her. It all started on that specific day…

“What are you doing?”

“Oh Ratio! You are early today” she greets him with a smile “These are my worms. I’m building a worm farm”

Ratio scowls watching the containers with dirt and few visible worms in the soil “Why are you even doing these dirty projects?”

“Everything! Worms can compose,fertilize and are eco-friendly. Can’t really depend on technology for the compose and chemical for the foods we eat,right? It is time for us to have this old tradition in our daily life” 

Ratio just stood there taking her every word into deep analysis. There are already machines for everything. And they make lives easier. Who wants to do the traditional way when it's easier for that. This intrigues him. She piqued his interest. Since then, Ratio would watch her doing her odds stuff. She used all natural color for paints, learned how to speak to birds and so many odd things he can even comprehend. But, he never intervenes or corrects her ways. Her ways are too unique to stop her from doing so. 

 “Have you seen Ratio?” she asked one of his students when she saw them walking in the same hallway

“Dr Ratio? Nope. He dismissed today class 20 minutes early” 

Strange. Ratio always uses the class time duration strictly. Starts when it starts and ends when it ends. He wasn't in their office,maybe he is in his art studio located not far from the university building. She heads to the art studio still holding the bouquet, catching everyone’s attention for how beautiful the roses are. 

“Veritas?” She calls his name as she enters the building. No answers. The room was cloaked in shadows, the faint glow of twilight seeping through the half-closed window curtain but the sun shunned a tall figure covered in cloth shielding it to cause curiosity to whoever sees this. She was so inquisitive about the mysterious figure behind it,she pulled down the cloth with a swift. 

As the cloth was pulled down, it revealed a beautifully carved sculpture. She stands near to it gazing at every carving trying to make out who is that. Every inch of the figure registered into her mind, every feature is hers. From the hair,eyes,nose,everything even the moles and scars. The person accurately carved her. In this piece, she is wearing a simple one piece dress and a veil. She is sitting on the ground with the texture of grass and soil. There are few birds she recognizes that she studied for communication studies. Next to the sculpture, there’s a note. It says;

She and i has no contrast,

She is the sun and moon,

Whilst i witness her beauty day and night,

From every beauty exist,

I willingly sit to see her only. 

Too mesmerized by the art. She was startled when someone called her name “Veritas…”. They were too close. Her back flushes on his chest heading tilting up staring into his eyes “What is this?”

Ratio stares into her eyes for a minute “The carving of my beloved” 

“What does that mean?”

The question that would frequently irritate Ratio but from her, nothing can make him get irritated by her “I have achieved and invented something that has given me praises and is well-known for it. But my greatest achievement is falling for you and only us know how my heart yearns for yours. I tried to imitate you in that sculpture but that beauty only you can have” 

There it is. No ridiculous reasons for giving her gifts. Ratio confessed his love that he has kept for awhile. He too made a deep depth as to why she can get away any irks he dislikes and why her presence makes his day brighter. It all because

“My love for you is never-ending like the universe” 

For now,she does not need to think of oblivious reasons as to why Ratio has gifted her gifts especially when it comes to the question of the sculpture of hers. Why? Because he loves her. 

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

kinda cringed a lil

[leonawriter]

The more I think about Carmen and Ayin, the more I'm like, "those two are literally absolute opposites of each other."

Carmen says that if something awful happened as a result of something she did, she'd crack and crumble and not be able to go on, and Ayin keeps going. He endures, to use a word PM likes to use.

Carmen, then, lacks the ability to Stand Up Straight by the time she is dying in the bathtub, because she has buckled under the weight of everything. We see this in the pressure everyone put on her. Ayin learns what it means to do this through his dealings with Malkuth.

Carmen lacks the Rationality to Maintain Discretion, taking all of the emotions inside of her after Enoch's death and Lisa's judgement and letting them spill out, into self-harm. Ayin goes through similar, but with Yesod's help is able to see that you need to be able to feel the despair but still keep a logical mind.

Carmen loses her belief that people can grow and the Hope to be a Better Person, as she dies and then as she spends that time as the Bucket. Ayin, however, after everything that he's done to reach the dream she always talked about, all the atrocities he committed, promises Hod - who betrayed them all and caused the Head to come down on the Outskirts lab - that they can become better people together.

Carmen, even before Lisa told her that she should have been the one to die, did not have the Fearlessness to Keep On Living. She gained the desire to live right before she was actually dead (as per Ruina's Keter Realisation), but I'd hazard that was more "desperation" than "fearlessness." Ayin, however, went from being in a state of depression so deep that he was making a long, drawn-out suicide plan (via the light), attempted suicide at least once (and remember, he was in that loop for ten thousand years, so it's absolutely correct to say he did again) and yet, he and Netzach promised each other to keep on going, with the idea of "if I can, so can you."

Carmen put her entire Meaning of Existence into the project she was working on, to save humanity - but when push came to shove, she didn't truly believe in the humans she was saving, and lost her way, and her meaning along with it, going from "saving humanity" to "have you tried distortion?" in the course of it. Ayin, however, is implied to have been like Enoch; always looking ahead, seeing that the world isn't how it should be and hoping for something better. It's strongly implied that the world of the City broke him before he met Carmen (and if not before, then in her dying), and yet with Tiphereth, he is able to find and keep an Expectation for the Meaning of Existence.

Carmen was amazing at "blowing peoples' minds" and getting them to trust her - however, how much she trusted them is in much higher doubt. She is only seen sharing her vulnerability with Ayin, and only then to make him promise to keep doing her work after she's gone. When she is at her breaking point, she loses faith in humanity itself. Ayin, however, although he loses his trust in humans to the point that he creates a machine (Angela) to help run the Facility and drives even his best friend away, connected with all of the Sephirot in a way that caused them to trust him again, especially Chesed, he had abandoned and broken the trust of. Through this, he gains Those Who are Faithful and Trustworthy.

Carmen had grand dreams of a utopia where no one had to hurt anyone else... but she herself could not be said to fit that same image, let alone "reach that place," much as Binah says in Ruina. She directly allows a child to die in her care, and the mention of "experiments" suggests that other adults already had. Ayin, however... although the methods may be questionable, he did manage to save the lives of his friends. Also importantly, is his management style; back in the Outskirts lab he would try to warn Michelle away from something she wasn't ready for, and in Lobotomy Corporation you can only get an S rank management score if you keep all of your agents alive. You are as a player rewarded for keeping agents alive. All of this put together, Gebura is the one who causes him to realise the Courage to Protect.

Carmen, in general, only ever did two things with her problems: pretended they weren't there, or ran from them. We can see this by the way that she pretends that she's so much more confident than she actually is, and the way that she hid herself away (to the point that she took her own life, without allowing herself the support of others) after one big regret too many. As the Voice, she currently can be heard to tell those who are distorting "it is awful, but none of that was your fault, you know?" - she encourages them to turn away from everything they themselves have done. Ayin, meanwhile, although he gives himself amnesia for the time loops... this is for the specific reason of being able to come to a point where he can face his past, as the Memory Synchronisation is, y'know, a thing. The important thing I think isn't that he would always forget, but that he would also always remember. And by remembering, he learns, and by learning, he can move on, becoming the Eye Embracing the Past, Building the Future.

Carmen, it can easily be said, could not face her own fears. This is a simple thing to state, because she says so herself in that field - that she's got a weak heart, like all humans. She also encourages others to be the same way now, telling them that it's fine to give in and give up as long as it makes them feel better, while at the same time turning a blind eye to the atrocities they commit. Ayin was once the same. Binah outright tells him so, that she saw him as the same kind of person as her, able to commit atrocities while not accepting his own anxieties and fear. However, through the loops and through facing Binah herself, he grows to be able to do so, becoming the Eye Facing the Fear, Breaking the Cycle.

Basically - Carmen is stuck in a place of not facing herself, while Ayin takes himself and quite literally forces himself to do so. Carmen stagnates, while Ayin outgrows her.

Also, while Carmen becomes a "beautiful voice, that everyone listens to," Ayin... in Lobotomy Corporation at least, doesn't truly get to say anything for himself, and what is said is said by his reflections, not himself. He has the fewest spoken (voiced) lines of any major character, too.

Which is fascinating, isn't it?

[thewritingmagician2022]

Hi! I have a bit of an uncommon ask; would you be willing to write the brothers+dateables (just the dateables if that's too many characters) with a MC that...just seems to know things before they happen? They never say anything about it or redirect the conversation, but they've snagged Luke on the collar seconds before a demon comes sprinting around the corner or a car speeds the red light, and always seems to know what a person's saying before they even finish saying it.

Idk, I like the idea of an MC who's been through time shenanigans before (bc time shenanigans be like that), I think it could have some really interesting effects, especially around lesson 16

This is a fun ask and it’s interesting to me because I tend to be someone that dreams about things before they happen - usually years in advance and it’s such mundane moments that I don’t even think about it until it happens in real life and I’m like hey! 👀

Despite the coolness of this ask, it’s obviously very delayed and not very fleshed out because I couldn’t find it in my brain/creativity to do it justice. I’m sorry for that and I hope you were able to find it elsewhere!

Lucifer: Lucifer is more than a little suspicious at first. It’s one thing to have a human down here in the Devildom but quite another to have one with the ability of precognition. It puts him and his family and the kingdom at potential risk; if you’re having visions about the future, it’s hard to keep any secrets or keep you in line as you may be a step ahead of him which really throws him off his game. So he’s keeping a careful eye on you at first and instructs you tell him about all of the visions you have, at least until he’s sure that he can trust you. Then he’s going to use that nifty little powers of yours to help stop his brothers before they can cause too many problems for him.

Mammon: Mammon thinks it’s both cool and freaky. He definitely wants you to keep it a secret just between the two of you so you can use it to his, excuse me, your advantage. He would absolutely bring you with him while gambling in the hopes that you’ll be able to see the winning numbers or colors or machines. It would make you even more invaluable to him, especially when you save his hide by warning him pre-emptively about bounty hunters or Lucifer coming after him or even just a RAD project that he may have forgotten. He’s a little in awe of you honestly.

Levi: Levi thinks you’re super cool! It’s like you have a superpower like one of his favorite anime girls. He can’t wait to be your sidekick as you work your way through the Devildom with your secret powers. He gushes over them/you every time you use them, especially when you use them for something nice like making sure Luke doesn’t get plowed over in a hallway or you keep something of his safe from Mammon. Occasionally, he does let you use it for gaming. He won’t let you warn him ahead of time of things in his games because it feels like cheating but if you’re playing co-op, well, he can’t exactly stop you and if you become practically undefeated realm-wide, that’s just a bonus.

Satan: Satan loves a good mystery and research so this is perfect. You have no idea where this elusive power comes from nor do you have any idea how to control it. That means he’s going to do a full deep dive getting your history, learning all about what the preminitons are like for you and what their usual subject matter is, tracking them to see if there’s any triggers or precursors he can identity. It’s like a fun game for him. He absolutely loves it when you get information that involves Lucifer because he and Belphie want to use it to their advantage for pranks, and he also loves how incredibly human you are with your gift - you use it kindly for everyone around you, always saving them from danger or distress or even just to spare their feelings.

Asmo: Asmo is easily freaked out by your power. Don’t get him wrong, he adores you and loves how special and unique you are - of course everyone should be super jealous knowing he gets to have the superpowered human. However, he is lowkey creeped out by it because he is so easy to startle. Pulling him out of the way of a random food fight? He shrieks. Snatch something out of his hands because it’s actually cursed? He’s got tears in his eyes both of gratitude and fear, also maybe a little bit of arousal because wow, you really do take such good care of him, don’t you?

Beel: Beel is the definition of the surprised pikachu face meme every time you use your powers. It’s like he has short term memory loss when it comes to this so whenever you manage to answer a question that’s so far unasked or catch something flying at you or you save one of the brothers from falling down the stairs, Beel looks at you like you’re a superhero. He’s just very impressed with you all the time anyway and he does his best to make sure that no one bothers you about or for your gift. You’re not some little sideshow pony for people to use for their gain and he’s going to make sure no one treats you that way.

Belphie: Your gift breaks his heart a little. Belphie wonders how much you knew, how much you know now. Did you always know that he was going to betray you and did you still choose to befriend him, to heal his family, to love him anyway? Did you know it would work out in the end or did you just hope for it? Or did you have no clue about his betrayal despite being aware of so many other things? He doesn’t know what’s worse actually - if you were ignorant and blinded or if you walked into his home a knowing martyr. It makes him want to project you, especially when all you seem to do is protect others with your gift. You’re always rescuing everyone else, heedless to the danger of the present and the pain of the past. He does his best to support you in any way possible, especially when the visions are something stronger and deeper than just making sure Beel doesn’t eat his last cookie.

Diavolo: Diavolo had no idea when he selected you as the exchange student that you had such a wonderful gift. He sees it as a sign from the universe that he picked the right person; it’s just another reason that you’re perfect for here, for him. Especially because you actively use your powers to do the good and right thing. Where others could and would choose to be selfish or manipulate others or gain power, you do your best to ensure everyone’s safety and happiness. He finds you and your gift incredibly endearing and wonderful. He’s just so thrilled that he has such a talented little human around to prove their goodness and usefulness. He also very much enjoys watching you have fun with your gift, whether it’s causing some trouble with Solomon or Mammon or Simeon, and he doesn’t let anyone scold you for it because he thinks it’s so much fun to watch you make your own way down there.

Barbatos: Barbatos was at first a little unsettled by this power of yours. He’s grown quite used to being the unsettling, omniscient person in the group. It’s not every day you meet someone who can see through time, even with visions as mundane and innocuous as yours usually are. It makes him suspicious in the beginning but, as he grows to trust you, he helps you deal with your powers both in terms of handling the visions/honing your skills and in terms of coping with the things that you may see. Once you’ve built that strong relationship between you, he absolutely loves to create chaos with you. You both like to be as ominous and vague as possible, using your unspoken twin bond thing to communicate and leave the others in a constant feeling of being a step behind the both of you.

Solomon: Solomon is deeply curious; he’s a man who knows everything about the past and you’re the person who knows everything about the future. He’s met humans with powers before, some even with the power of pre-cognition, but yours are the most erratic and it’s a very interesting coincidence that you happened to be brought in as the exchange student at RAD. He’s definitely going to ask to run tests and experiments on you, a bit like Satan but much more hands on his approach. He wants to figure out the origin and the extent of your powers, and he’s certainly okay with stirring up some trouble. It’s not unusual for him to use your powers as an excuse for why he did/didn’t something, even if it’s not true, and he uses his magic to help you harness your gift to turn into something consistently useful.

Simeon: Simeon is almost as curious as Satan and Solomon (must be an S name thing?). He does wonder where your gift comes from - if it’s a Gift from his Father to be used to better the world around you, which he sees happening every time you save one of them from a near death experience or even just give them the answer in class in RAD because you knew the professor would ask them, or if it’s a curse because he’s seen the haunted, lonely, terrified look on your face when you’re confronted with the visions of darker things than the others can even comprehend. He knows you don’t share those visions with everyone; you tend to keep them to yourself and work to make sure they don’t happen. Simeon is the one who sees that look and steps in to stand by your side and support you so that you don’t have to bear the responsibility alone. To make things a little light for you, Simeon encourages you to use your gify for fun. Between your visions and Simeon’s angelic grace, no one doubts whatever you two say and that means you can get away with so many things and keep yourself out of trouble. It might be a little bit naughty of you but you think you both do more than enough for the Devildom to have earned this little mischeif.

[freezerbnuuy]

As creatives, we need to remember that our supporters are not 24/7 commenting, validation-giving machines, they’re human beings like us. Things like reblogs are one or two clicks at most, so they're super easy to give people, or likes or other single-click support. I am not talking about easier methods of support. Some support, like commenting, requires a little more effort and time that people aren't necessarily going to have to spare.

The same way we may have to delay further content / not reply to comments we get because we’re tired, busy, depressed, anxious, low spoons, neurodivergent, don’t know what to say, and so on… people who consume content get the exact same problems as we do. Much like with us, they can inhibit their ability to give us comments and other forms of detailed support / feedback.

Some people also worry about various things like forgetting story elements, their comments not being detailed enough, language barriers. misinterpreting something, etc. And yeah, you may not care about these things, but they aren't mind-readers. They don't know that you won't get mad if they do these things.

This is something I see in the fanfiction circle rather than our own circle, but I feel it’s worth mentioning - I feel like there’s a lot of positivity for creators in terms of validating not having the time or energy to interact with supporters or to post content or work on WIPs and such, but more and more pressure on supporters to give detailed feedback 24/7 and constantly accusing people of making excuses when they say they're shy or anxious or don't know what to say - and the reality is that they are going to have the same things we have holding us back, holding them back at times. You are not the only person in the world who's tired and mentally ill, after all.

It's healthy to want a level of validation, and it's not a bad thing to have thoughts about wishing you had more of a following or more attention - I don't think it's even a bad thing to be upset about it, so long as you aren't telling people to kill themselves over it or anything... but you also have to face the likelihood that you are never going to get the amount of validation on your work that you want or think you deserve deep down because your expectations will likely rise with increasing readership/interaction.

The trouble with these attitudes is that your expectations will change but the feelings of wanting to be seen more won't. You get 3 followers, you wish you had 5. You get 5 followers, you wish you had 10 and so on. It's a nasty little loop.

Also think of how your current supporters feel when they're writing you all these comments and then you say it's not enough. Kind of a kick in the teeth, and they have feelings too. It sucks to supporters when they give you what you want, but what THEY have given you isn’t good enough.

I have bad irrational attention-seeking and jealousy problems deep down but I work through them. They are irrational and I need to tell them to shut the fuck up constantly. When I get feelings of 'why don't I have more of a following?' in terms of my story, I remind myself that I have 4 people that have kept up with my stuff and supported me and commented since day one 3 years ago of me starting this project. People stuck with me for THAT LONG and still try to say something even if they are busy, and that's an amazing thing.

You have to learn either of three things: 1) to try and push on even when engagement is low , 2) take a break until you feel better or 3) weighing up the situation. Is writing this thing going to be fun even if there's not enough support? If so, is it a good idea to shelve the project and try and do something more personally fulfilling?

[coffeeghoulie]

broke the mold (change will come)

chapter 3: love the mayhem more than the love

so. what a week it's been since the last chapter, huh. to "make up" for being MIA for a month, have a chapter that doubles the entire fic length lmao. I'm sorry (no I'm not.)

Content warnings for this chapter include religious doubt, vague description of being in a medical setting, disassociation, mild self harm (chewing and digging nails into skin), what happens when seven ghouls are crammed into tight spaces without ever addressing any of their own issues. More familiar faces. The idea of perfect victims. Learning new things, new names. Trauma responses. The first time I've ever written Copia as a main character. Self-destructive behavior and pushing others into doing it for you. 16.2k.

I make no promises about the next chapter except that it's probably not going to be until mid April. I have a project with a real physical deadline fast approaching, and I need to get that done first. I'll work on this when I can <3

Much thanks again to @mintea-in-space for all of the Cardinal Consulting <3

divider by @wrathofrats <3

There's a beeping noise. Shrill. Grating. Foreign. Aurum groans. His head hurts. Mouth feels like it's stuffed with cotton, and there's some bitter taste when he licks over his teeth. They don't fit quite right in his mouth, teeth nor tongue.

He grumbles again, trying to raise a hand to swat in the noise's general direction, wants to get Fog to stop mimicking-

Fog.

Everything comes back in waves, and he realizes that even though he's thought he’s been cold before, that was nothing. He’s cold for the very first time in his life. The next thing he realizes is that he has absolutely no fucking idea where he is. This is not the room he entered when he exited the portal, that much is clear even before he finds the strength to open his eyes.

It's a tremendous effort to peel his eyes open. The lights are bright white, and he hisses as his pupils try sluggishly to adjust. He’s alone, strange machines at his bedside connected to him through wires and tubes. His arms are wrapped in cloth so white it makes his head throb.

Everything smells strange, sharp and sterile, and Aurum still has no clue where he is. There’s a window, but the curtains are drawn thick and heavy. The door, with a grucifix hung above the frame, is solid and shut.

Aurum takes a deep breath. His entire body feels like he’s fallen off of a tall ledge. It hurts.

He tries to sit up, groaning loudly at the ache that ripples through him. The thin bed under him shifts, railings at the side creaking, and there’s a twinge of resistance where the machines connect to his arms.

Aurum growls softly at them, coughing as his throat stings. He reaches to pull the tubes and wires free, something small and angry in the back of his mind telling him to get the fuck out of here.

But the moment he touches the first needle in the back of his hand, someone clears their throat loudly. Aurum jolts back, ignoring the way his body protests the sudden movement.

The door’s open, now. There’s no other way out of this room. All of a sudden, the sterile scent of the room is overpowered by rich, dark ozone. Aurum’s ears pin back against his head.

A strange ghoul looms in the doorway, and despite the ache pounding at his temples, he bares all of his fangs with a pathetic snarl. This, of course, does nothing to dissuade the stranger. The strong scent of quintessence overpowers the chemical even more as he steps inside with a halfhearted huff of laughter.

He’s clearly tried to put himself together; a white coat over a rumpled sweater and sloppily tied tie, deep, heavy bags under violet eyes, half hidden behind round tortoiseshell glasses. The scruff of his goatee and his temples are grey, the rest of his dark hair messy and unkempt where it falls over his forehead, around two short ebony horns. There’s a clipboard tucked under his arm, and he turns over his shoulder to call to someone down the hall.

“Aether, please,” he says, and saints be damned, does he sound as tired as Aurum feels. “I need you to-”

“I already told you I had to excuse myself from that ghoul’s case,” another voice rumbles, the growl clear enough that Aurum feels his ears pin back instinctively. “I cannot be impartial with him. You know what happened. It’s for his own good.”

The ghoul in front of him takes a deep, shaky breath, his eyes squeezed shut as footsteps retreat. When his eyes open again, he’s got a wide smile plastered on his face. “Well, Olde One be willing, you made it,” he says, pulling up a rolling chair besides the gurney, rifling through the paperwork attached to his clipboard. “Frankly, it was a little touch and go for a while, but barring any major unexpected setbacks-”

To this, the quintessence ghoul glances out the door. He looks back to Aurum like he’d never looked away.

“It’ll be like nothing ever happened. You survived going through a filtered portal of a differing element. You’re the first one to ever make it out alive. Congratulations.”

“It was the right portal-” he tries to protest, but a fit of hacking coughs wrack him. His throat screams in pain with each one. The other ghoul sets a hand on his shoulder, concern easy to read in his expressions.

“Easy there, bud,” he rumbles, low and easy until he stops coughing. “Forgive me, I probably should have introduced myself. My name is Omega, one of the quintessence ghouls of the Head Ministry. What is yours, if you wouldn’t mind?”

The Head Ministry.

A pit forms in his stomach, and he doubts that he’s nauseous because of the pain. Aurum scans over Omega’s face, pulling back as far as he can away. Every instinct in his body is screaming that he’s a threat. He opens his mouth to tell him his name, and realizes, as his stomach lurches, that he doesn’t want to say any of the names he’s had before. Aurum coming from someone else’s tongue makes him feel nauseous. Fire just feels like mockery. So instead:

“Don’t have one.”

Omega cocks his head curiously, brows furrowing. “You… Don’t have a name?” he says cautiously.

He shakes his head. Omega writes something down on his paperwork. The scratch of the pen nib against paper makes Aurum’s head hurt even more. His glasses slide a little down the bridge of his nose. His gaze is piercing. It feels almost a little patronizing.

“I have to have something to call you,” he says, glancing up over those tortoiseshell rims. “The humans have taken to referring to you as the multi, but that’s not a name befitting a ghoul like yourself. If you don’t have a name, I’d be happy to give you one.”

Aurum clenches his fists, looking away from Omega to stare at his hands as his knuckles ache with the strain. The summoning shouldn’t have hurt. He’s fire, for fuck’s sake. The portal was for a fire ghoul. Even as he thinks it now, he doesn’t feel the conviction behind it he’s had for centuries. “Multi’s fine. I guess.”

Omega gives him another look, but he’s too exhausted to try and read into it. “Multi it is, then,” he writes something down in his paperwork. There’s a lull, and the quintessence ghoul looks up. It feels like he’s being examined like a particularly interesting specimen.

“I apologize, but I do have to ask. Was there anything in particular that made you want to go through that portal, even knowing the risks of summoning? Desperation, curiosity, something else?”

Aurum shrinks back. “It- I was going through the right portal. It was my element. It wasn’t supposed to-”

Omega cuts him off with a hand on his bicep. Aurum flinches so hard it hurts. Even worse than the sting is the look of pity on the older ghoul’s face. “Multi. If it were the right portal, you wouldn’t be in the infirmary right now. You’ve been unconscious for quite a while so your body could recover. It is, and I do not say this lightly, an unholy miracle from the Prince Himself that you were able to survive the summoning ritual.”

He blinks, feels himself start to pull back from his body. He digs his claws into the meat of his palm to at least attempt to stay present. “Fuck,” Aurum mumbles, eyes still a little bit hazy. His body aches, the pain throbbing in time with his pulse.

The summoning shouldn’t have hurt. He’s known ghouls whose pride and honor comes from their summonings and returns. Extended family, his parents’ peers. They had all said that being summoned had been as easy as walking through a threshold. He knows this.

A traitorous little voice in the back of his head that sounds like Moraine’s reminds him of the water ghoul who’d sprinted through the air portal and screamed as it had burned them alive. They hadn’t been the right element and it had killed them.

Fog had been ri-

Aurum stops that line of thought right then and there. He never wants to think about her again.

But there isn’t really any denying it anymore. If he were actually a fire ghoul, it wouldn’t have hurt.

“You are the first recorded instance of a ghoul being able to do so. Frankly, it’s fascinating, but we are genuinely glad that you pulled through,” Omega’s voice cuts through the haze. “The Cardinal will be thrilled to hear that you’re awake and talking.”

Aurum’s brow furrows. “The Cardinal?”

“Cardinal Copia,” he says. Aurum watches him withdraw into himself for a split second. The violet of his eyes dulls before the smile returns full force. “I forgot, how silly of me. No one’s been able to explain to you as to why you’ve been summoned because of all of the-”

To this, Omega gestures to the monitors on the other side of the bed. Still beeping. Still too bright. He settles back into his seat, clipboard tucked under his arm.

“The Head Ministry has a rather unique missionary program,” he says, something fond curling his lips up. “Using music for human recruitment. A rock band. The Ghost Project. Before I started infirmary work, I was a member of this program for quite a while, along with-”

He cuts himself off. That dull look is back in his eyes. “Well. That’s irrelevant right now. However. The upper clergy were looking for a new fire ghoul to play lead guitar for the Cardinal, who inherited the Ghost Project a few months ago and now is the new frontman, the new Mouthpiece. Then, you came out of the portal.”

Aurum winces. Omega doesn’t seem to notice. Just keeps talking. “The humans are always so finicky about fire summonings. They could only do it the one time. Something bureaucratic that they don’t bother explaining to us. They’ve mad- found a new fire ghoul. You’ll meet him eventually. Once you’re well enough on your feet.”

He nods. Swallows hard. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth. Omega must easily read the discomfort in his expression, because he leans over to the table at the head of his bed and offers him a glass with a straw.

“Here, drink,” he says, helping Aurum sit up. Aurum drinks greedily, the water a balm against his scratchy throat.

“Thank you,” he pants, blinking slowly when Omega sets the glass back down. His heart still flutters like a cornered animal. He is acutely aware of the machines, still beeping rhythmically. “What, uh, what comes next?”

Omega looks up from his clipboard. Aurum watches the big ghoul’s chest rise and fall with breath. “Well, I’d like to keep you here for a few more days, make sure you don’t give us any more scares,” He laughs wearily, taking another deep breath as he goes somewhere else for a moment. “And then we’ll get you cleared and introduced to your p-”

He stops himself, glances at him. Aurum, once again, feels pinned.

“Then we’ll get you introduced properly to the Cardinal and the ghouls you will be working with as part of the Project. I mean, of course, if you are willing to join. The Cardinal will go over this with you when you speak to him, as you were his first summons. But if you do not want to serve the Mouthpiece, we can easily have you return to the Pits.”

Aurum blinks. Tries not to think of the fury in Fog’s eyes last he’d seen her. “I- I’ll serve,” he croaks, even though he still isn’t quite sure what serving entails. Wonders what he’s signed himself up for.

He can pretend, though. Like pretending isn’t the only thing he’s ever been good at doing.

Omega smiles, and Aurum gets the strange sense that this one is the most genuine one he’s seen yet. “Good. It’s been a pleasure to properly meet you, Multi. I’m sure you must be exhausted, the body uses a lot of energy in recovery. I’ll leave you to rest, but I won’t be far if you need me.”

Aurum opens his mouth to respond, but Omega’s already turned towards the door, counting something on his fingers as he leans out of the doorway and calls to someone out of sight. “Sister Delilah, I-”

The door shuts behind him.

Aurum crosses his arms over his chest, shrinks in on himself. He feels so cold.

Thankfully, the next few days pass without incident. There’s a slow stream of people coming in and out to check on him, mainly Omega and the Sister of Sin the bigger ghoul had spoken to as he’d left on that first day.

She’s the first human he’s ever seen. He does his best not to stare. She smiles and he does his best to return it. Delilah tells him that the Cardinal’s going to love him. Aurum wonders exactly what she means by that. He’s yet to meet him.

His infirmary stay passes in a bit of a blur, and the next thing he knows, Omega’s unwrapping the bandages from his arms, a healthy buzz of quintessence applied to dull what’s left of the ache. He’s dressed in a black, long sleeved button up, slacks and shoes of the same color. He ties some of his locs back, letting the rest hang past his shoulders. He hasn’t been this put together in a very, very long time.

He finds he doesn’t exactly mind it, even if his thoughts start to wander to a place he’d forbidden for himself a long time ago.

Aurum shakes his head to clear the fuzz as Omega hands him a package wrapped in black velvet.

“There are, well. Certain rules involving the behavior and presentation of ghouls here,” Omega starts to explain, eyes glancing around as Aurum watches him try to best summarize. “We are to be in uniform. A united front to serve the Church, if you will. You’ll get fit for a proper uniform once you get settled into your new quarters.”

Aurum nods, smoothing his thumb over the velvet. There’s something hard underneath. He doesn’t dare unwrap it yet. Aurum just watches Omega, does his best to keep eye contact.

“But this,” Omega says, gesturing to the bundle in his lap. “This is the most important thing you will ever wear on the Surface. It is to be worn in all public areas of the Ministry, and outside it. Your summoner may or may not have rules about wearing it in front of him.” To this, Omega gets that strange, distant look in his eye, “But that is to be discussed with him, not me.”

Aurum nods, hesitantly pulling the velvet away. It almost feels like mockery, a featureless face that shines of chrome, empty vacant holes for eyes to stare from. A mask with horns and a slot cut from the chin for his mouth. He trails his eyes over where the mask would curl over the top of his head, over where his horns curl back, much larger than these.

Omega must sense his confusion, because he smiles, steps forward. “Do you know how to glamour?” he says, even as he goes through putting away all the medical equipment Aurum had spent the last however many days hooked up to. “It’s much easier Up Top than Down Below. Just call on your magic, and it will be there.”

Aurum blinks, looks up to Omega to question him, and has to do a double take. It’s still Omega standing in front of where he sits at the side of the hospital bed. The same grey and dark hair, same build, but his horns and tusks and the violet of his eyes have been wiped away like chalk. A startled laugh barks from Aurum’s throat, and it’s a testament to how far he’s recovered that the act doesn’t send him into a coughing fit.

“I’d like you to try,” Omega says, pressing a large hand to the center of his own chest. “It’ll be right here. Reach in and pull it out.”

Aurum takes a deep, deep breath. He hasn’t tried anything like this in decades. The little voice in the back of his head wants him to snap at Omega. His survival instinct tells him that Omega is much bigger and stronger than him. He hasn’t seen the quint angry yet, and he doesn’t think he ever wants to. He shuts his eyes. Does his very best to focus.

It’s like grabbing at flame itself, incorporeal. Aurum reaches into the core of himself, where his fire has taunted him for nearly his entire life. He reaches for the magic that makes him a ghoul and it dances, laughing, away from him.

He growls at himself and Omega takes a step back. Shame and frustration burn through him, but he shakes his head and just tries again. And again, and again, until Omega’s voice rings through his frustrated focus.

“There you go, take a look,” he says, warm, and if Aurum knew any better, he’d say Omega sounded proud. It makes his head spin. He ignores it. He glances over to the mirror above the sink in the corner of the room and just stares.

Hair still dark. His horns gone. He doesn’t look quite human, too many teeth to fit properly in his mouth, but it’s passable. His skin, instead of the deep charcoal it once was, is a rich, warm brown. His eyes are no longer gold, now so dark it’s hard to distinguish pupil from iris at this distance.

Aurum’s not sure how he feels about this new appearance. He’s just starting to figure it out when the magic slips from him and his reflection is far more familiar.

“That’s it!” Omega praises, resting a big hand on Aurum’s shoulder. “The first couple of times are a bit shaky, but you have the principle. I’m sure you’ll have it down in no time.”

Aurum tries again until he sees that strange man in the mirror again. He rolls his shoulders, staring himself down. Seeing the reflection move cements it a little more into reality instead of a trick of the light. As does looking down at the paler skin of his palms. Short, blunt, almost pink nailbeds instead of claws.

He takes a deep breath, gaze shifting to that fucking mask. He rolls his shoulders again. There’s an ache in the movement that the quintessence hasn’t touched. This has been the strangest day? Week? Who knows how long he’s been Up Top. But it’s been the strangest period of his life, and he knows that stranger is coming still.

He stands, and Omega rushes to steady him. “Easy, Multi, no need to rush,” he presses, but Aurum just tunes him out.

“Gotta go meet the Cardinal at some point, right?” Aurum says, flashing Omega a bright, toothy smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes before putting on the mask. “Might as well get it over with.”

Omega smiles back. Probably a little more genuine than Aurum’s own, but not by much. He pulls out his own mask, a similar design but a much more matte silver, almost pewter, and there’s no slot for his mouth. “You do have a point,” he says, voice barely muffled, and turns to open the door. “Follow me.”

Aurum takes a breath and follows Omega out of the infirmary.

It’s the first real glimpse of this new world he’s stumbled into. It reminds him, painfully, viscerally, of the grand cathedrals he used to attend with his family. The thought is swiftly and methodically put away. All of the pain pushed to the furthest recesses of his mind so he can stay on guard.

The halls of the Ministry remind him painfully, viscerally, of the chapels and sanctums and grand cathedrals he’d attended a lifetime ago with his family. The thought is swiftly and methodically put away in the furthest recesses of his mind. He needs to stay on guard, even as he walks behind Omega’s larger form.

It’s new and it’s familiar all at once. Lined with high, arching windows, clear and stained glass. Statues of various Saints and iconography, countless unseeing eyes staring down at them as they walk the marble floors.

And that’s not to mention the eyes that do see him. There’s dozens upon dozens of humans moving through the hallways as well, and Aurum feels each gaze peering at him curiously. The scents are strange and foreign, yet familiar. Curiosity, nerves, appraisal. They turn to each other and whisper, and in this new glamour, all his ears let him hear is the rushed breathiness, no real words able to be made out.

He swallows hard, stares at Omega ahead of him. Walks with a purpose even if he doesn’t know what it is.

After a while, Omega stops in front of an unassuming door. A bronze nameplate reads “Treasurer,” and Aurum furrows his brow. There’s no need to distrust Omega, though, and he shrugs, rolling his neck as Omega knocks.

“Cardinal?” Omega calls. “I have your first summon ready to report for duty.”

“Oh, it is time?” A harried voice responds, muffled through the thick wood. Papers rustle. Something thuds. “I was not expecting, just a moment, perdonami.”

“Take your time, Cardinal,” Omega says, and Aurum can hear the sigh in his tone. He doesn’t try and read into it, instead glancing between the back of Omega’s head and the shine of polished brass.

Several long, awkward moments pass before footsteps approach rapidly to the door. Aurum braces himself as it opens.

The first thing he sees is the Eye. Even through the mask, the blinding white peers into the very core of his being. Aurum’s shoulders draw up on instinct and he shifts onto his back foot.

Omega bows his head. “Your first summon, Cardinal,” he says, voice low and almost distant. “Made a full recovery.”

“Thank you, Omega, your efforts are much appreciated,” the man says, brushing mousy brown hair back from his forehead before adjusting a bright red biretta with a huff. He is pasty pale, a thin mustache under a prominent nose, freckles spattered over gaunt cheeks, black grease paint around his eyes and upper lip.

Aurum blinks rapidly. He knows that voice. Sense memory fills his lungs with the cold, clear air Up Top. The portal burns where he’d been healed.

This is the human who summoned him.

Aurum didn’t get a chance to actually see him before he’d passed out from his injuries. But that voice is etched into the very core of this vessel, bound to the one who’d brought him here.

The Cardinal looks past Omega, and he cocks his head. Those mismatched eyes rake over him. Appraising. Aurum stands stock still, arms behind his back. He knows this drill. Lets the human make whatever judgment he wants to make.

He shakes his head, blinking out some sort of stupor. “Where are my manners, come in, come in,” he says, grimacing as he looks over his shoulder at the mess of papers on the desk inside.

Omega takes a step back, pressing a big hand to the small of Aurum’s back. “I will be taking my leave, Cardinal,” he says, that low, respectful tone never wavering. “The infirmary has need of me, as always. Multi, with the Cardinal, alright?”

Aurum does not look away from his summoner. He swallows hard. “Yes, Omega,” Aurum breathes.

He steps into the tiny office. He does not flinch as the door shuts behind him.

The office is small, lined with overflowing bookshelves and one high, small window to light the space, a green banker’s lamp on the desk in the center of the room to make up for it.

The Cardinal scurries back behind his desk. It’s a little too big for the office, but he doesn’t seem to care or notice. “Take a seat, take a seat,” he gestures, grimacing again as he clears a space of papers into some poor semblance of organization. “Make yourself comfortable, okie dokie?”

Aurum bows his head in the way he saw Omega do moments ago. “Thank you, Cardinal,” he says, laying it on a little too thick in an attempt to appease. This he knows how to do. “I’d rather stand if that’s alright, sir.”

The Cardinal laughs, a surprised little trill, but sits down in his own chair anyways, arranging the bright red fabric of his cassock and sash in pursuit of comfort. “I suppose you have been sitting for quite some time in the infirmary. Whatever you most prefer, makes no difference to me.”

Aurum just bows his head again. His chest rises and falls, breathing as evenly as he can. He will not walk into any trap this man sets. If he’s capable of setting them at all.

He’s learned the hard way it’s still best to be careful.

The Cardinal finishes rearranging the contents of his desk, filled with tables and numbers and odd symbols that Aurum can’t parse even if they were turned the right way round for him, and steeples his fingers, resting his elbows on the desk. “Multi, Omega said?”

Aurum nods. “Yes, Cardinal.”

The human’s chest puffs up a little, sitting up a little straighter. “Well, Multi, I would like to congratulate you on beating the odds, gave us all quite the scare, eh?”

“I apologize, Cardinal,” Aurum says.

The man scoffs, and Aurum jolts upright, meeting his gaze for the first time since he sat down. “None of that. With your successful summoning, you have made me the first person in living memory in the Clergy to summon a multighoul accidentally.”

His gaze drops to the floor, staring at the black leather shoes Omega had handed him that morning. Something uncomfortable and familiar wells up in his chest. He does his best to ignore it.

“It makes you very special, Multi, and I have thanked our Lord for this unholy blessing,” the Cardinal says. “But now that you have recovered, I would like to, eh, discuss the terms of your summoning to the Satanic Ministry.”

Aurum shuts his eyes for a moment. He knew this was coming. He knew the humans needed a ghoul for a reason. For a purpose. He does not dare get his hopes up.

“Omega told me some,” he says, testing the waters. “The Ghost Project.”

At the mention of the Project, the Cardinal visibly lights up, his white eye gleaming even in the dim light. “Si, I summoned you for the band. I, eh, needed a fire ghoul. The last one..” he trails off, glancing away at a small globe on one of the shelves. “Never mind that, no? We have a fire ghoul now, and I will take you to meet him and the rest of your new bandmates.”

Aurum nods, following the Cardinal’s gaze to watch the globe. There’s a thin layer of dust on it. He doesn’t look back until his summoner clears his throat, and he snaps back to attention.

“Within the Project, there have always been ghouls backing the Prince’s Mouthpiece. Helping him spread the Prince’s message. And each element had a specific role. An earth ghoul on drums. An air ghoul on keys. A water ghoul for a bassist. And so on, si? But now, with you here, we get to make something new. Something unique.” The Cardinal seems to gain confidence as he speaks, straightening in his seat, something bright gleaming in the dark green of his normal eye.

Aurum nods again. He digs his blunt, glamoured nails into the delicate skin of his wrist. “I will be useful, Cardinal.”

The human furrows his brow, cocks his head. “You will be more than useful, my ghoul. You will be great.”

He forces a bit of faked nonchalance through. Shrugs and presses his lips together in a thin line. “I hope I’ll serve you well,” he says. Not matter what he does to try and stop it, there’s a sinking feeling in Aurum’s chest that he can’t deny.

The Cardinal smiles. “Si, me too.”

Aurum blinks. He’s been so busy keeping up his own facade that he didn’t notice that the Cardinal has his own up as well. He takes a breath. “Did you have an idea on my role, Cardinal?”

The man sits up a little straighter in his chair. “A few, that I’d like to pitch. We have an equal amount of experience with the Project here,” he jokes. It falls a little flat. Aurum just stares.

“What would you like me to do?” Aurum asks again. Does his best to keep his tone even and calm.

The Cardinal looks up at him. The Eye pierces through him. Burns. “I would like to know what kind of, eh. Musical experience you have. If you do not have any, you can be taught.”

“I can sing some,” he says, keeping his posture as rigid as he can. No use in fidgeting in front of him. He hasn’t caught onto Aurum’s front yet. The mask helps some, as much as it pains him to admit it.

He lights up at Aurum’s admission, clapping his hands together. “Good, very good, I was in need of another vocalist. I have an air ghoulette who will be doing vocals for me, but I want a deeper voice too. Round it out some, no?”

Aurum nods. “Yes, sir.”

“We might also be able to get you on guitar and some assorted percussion. Shaker or tamborine, I am thinking. Not all at once, different parts for different songs, but I hope to have you fill out our rough edges.”

Aurum blinks. Nods even though he feels like he’s thrown himself into the deep end. The edges of himself feel jagged at best, and he wants him to smooth out the others that he hasn’t even met yet? He’ll try his best to avoid being thrown back and replaced with someone better. “I hope I will suffice, Cardinal.”

He runs leather covered fingers through his mousy hair, shoving the strands back in place. Those mismatched eyes meet his through the mask. “I’m sure you will, Multi. Our Lord must have had a reason that I summoned you. I am curious to find out why along with you.”

Aurum does not flinch. Offers his summoner a smile, flashing the smoothed out, glamoured teeth. The Cardinal returns it.

He claps his hands together again, leather on leather muffling the smack. “Are we, eh, on the same page on what I want from you, Multi?” he asks, and there’s something almost genuinely worried in his tone.

Aurum nods, taking a deep breath. Keeps his smile bright. “I think I understand, sir.”

“Excellent.” The Cardinal reddens slightly, his gaze darting away for a moment. It’s almost a relief to have the Eye off of him. “I have taken enough of your time, I think. I would like to take you to meet your bandmates. I am sorry for having you led on a goose chase around the Abbey, heh.”

Meeting other ghouls. Aurum stifles the instinctive fear response and stands as straight as he can. “It’s fine,” he says, putting everything into keeping his voice clear and level. “Should stretch my legs.”

The Cardinal stands with a huff. “Well then, off to the ghoul wing, no?”

Aurum takes a step back, allows the Cardinal to pass him, and falls into line. It leaves something bitter at the back of his tongue, but the idea of going back scares him more than anything else. Aurum does his best not to show it.

He’s led through the halls once again, ducking down staircases and winding through corridors until he’s standing in front of an unmarked door. The Cardinal takes a deep breath. “These will lead to your quarters, the band ghoul quarters. There’s a commons and a kitchen, and your packmates should have set aside a room for you. Aether-” The Cardinal cuts himself off. His mismatched eyes narrow for a moment, some conflict racing behind them. He gestures at the door, seemingly giving up on whatever train of thought he’d been on.

Aurum shuts his eyes for a moment. Braces himself. He remembers Omega saying that name, what feels like forever ago. But he shakes his head. Pushes the door open. Best to get this over with.

He steps into the ghoul den, the Cardinal right behind him.

It’s lit warmly, a few couches and arm chairs scattered around the large commons. Bookshelves line the walls, as well as a few odd pieces of human technology that he can’t quite parse. It’s warm, and Aurum can’t help himself from letting his shoulders drop.

That is, until he notices he and the Cardinal are not alone in this room.

His eyes lock onto a pair of ghoulettes tucked together on one of the couches, bent over a book and talking quietly to each other. They look up in unison as they too realize they’ve been joined. A cloud of silver white curls block the eyes of the smaller of the pair, but the taller of them stares at him with warm grey eyes, pupils little pinpricks, almost blue black hair draped down her back. The scent of the room shifts to unease, and Aurum’s not sure how much of it is his own nerves and how much is theirs. He notices neither of them are glamoured or masked.

The smaller of the ghoulettes shifts in front of the other. “Cardinal,” she greets, voice chiming like bells, even as her gaze never leaves Aurum. He can feel it pierce through the chrome of his mask even though he can’t see her eyes behind her curls.

“Cumulus, Cirrus, my lionesses,” Copia says, bowing his head for a moment. He takes off his biretta and clutches it to his chest.

The taller of the ghoulettes cocks her head, glancing between her summoner and Aurum and back. “Are you the multighoul everyone’s been talking about who’s joining us?” she asks. The corner of her lips quirk up for a moment.

Aurum shrugs, pulling together every piece of a front as he can. “Suppose so,” he says, trying to match her smile. “So far, I’m the only multi I’ve met here.”

The words taste sour, even as he knows them to be true. Thankfully, neither the ghoulettes or the Cardinal pick up on it.

The smaller ghoulette grins, needle sharp fangs filling her smile. ““It’s lovely to finally meet you,” she says. “I’m Cumulus, and this is my mate Cirrus.”

He matches her grin and presses a hand to his sternum. He feels the buttons of his shirt press against his palm. It’s almost grounding. It makes the smile on his face genuine. “I’m Multi. I look forward to working with you.”

Cirrus looks to the Cardinal. “This will be fun,” she laughs, and Aurum feels heat come to his cheeks, thankful the mask can, well. Mask it. The Cardinal doesn’t have that sort of luxury, going scarlet under the attention of two, undoubtedly, beautiful ghoulettes.

The human sputters for a moment, desperately trying to pull together some sort of composure. “Is- Is everyone else here?” he asks them, and Aurum’s shoulders bristle at the reminder of more new ghouls.

Cumulus hums, thinking. “I think it’s just Dew and Rain here,” she says. “Aether’s in the infirmary, and Mountain’s out on the grounds somewhere. They should be back shortly.”

He nods, and Aurum can hear him swallow. “Alrightie. Would you like me to, eh, retrieve the gentlemen? For introductions?”

Aurum swallows as the three of them talk. He takes a deep breath. Four more to meet. One with a name that he’s heard in passing, and he thinks of the three ghouls he’d seen before he’d collapsed in his summoning. Wonders if any of them are here.

“Cardinal?” A new voice asks, and Aurum’s head whips to face it. A lanky water ghoul steps into the commons, teal finned tail curling around his calf. Deep, inky eyes take in each of them, hesitating longest on Aurum’s.

“Rain, my ghoul,” he says, pulling at the red sleeve of his cassock. Rain offers him an aloof smile, even as his eyes never leave Aurum. He seems just as guarded as Aurum feels, dipping a toe in the water, so to speak. The scent of petrichor fills the room, mixing pleasantly with the fresh air and soft florals of the ghoulettes’ scents.

“And you must be Multi,” Rain says. His voice is low, sounds like meltwater rushing over stones. Aurum’s reminded of the stories of sirens in the Fifth. This must be one of them.

“I am,” he confirms again, still not quite letting his guard down. Offers him the warmest smile he can muster.

The nervous energy in the room crackles, palpable. Not just from Rain. He’s the biggest ghoul in the room by a long shot, and quite frankly, he doesn’t blame them, even if they have him outnumbered. He breathes as steadily as he can. Tries not to broadcast anything they can use against him.

The silence is broken by a throat clearing, rough and hoarse. Aurum startles hard, as does the Cardinal and Rain. Another ghoul steps out from behind Rain, and Aurum has to do a double take.

This ghoul is the spitting image of that water ghoul he’d seen that night, standing between the quintessence and earth ghouls. But not quite. Orange eyes burn like embers into him, sharp features narrowed into a glare as they rake over him. Appraising. It seems like Aurum comes up short, because he huffs loudly.

Instead of the long, silvery hair Aurum remembers seeing, there’s choppy, copper hair sliced off just long enough to brush against narrow shoulders, just barely hiding a rounded, cauterized scar on his throat. Broken obsidian horns jutting out through the strands of hair. Bony arms cross over his chest, a spiked tail padding against the ground, loudly broadcasting irritation just as clear as the acrid, smokey scent that fills the room.

“Dewdrop,” the Cardinal says, nervously glancing between Aurum and this newcomer. The human’s voice seems to snap him out of his glare. He lowers his head for a moment. Aurum’s eyes lock onto a string of bluish pearls hanging from a pocket in his pants, a mother of pearl grucifix swinging as he shifts his weight.

“Cardinal,” he says, hesitant reverence just barely covering a tenseness in his voice. It sounds rough, like he hasn’t had a drink of water in weeks. “This is him?”

Aurum hates the way they’re talking about him like he isn’t even in the room. But he is in fact the newcomer here, yields to the others. Does not want to make a scene, will walk the line carefully for now.

“Yes,” the Cardinal says. The leather of his gloves creak as he grips his biretta tighter. Dewdrop’s eyes lock onto Aurum then, and if his gaze earlier had felt hot, then this must be what the sun feels like.

He shifts, rocking onto the backfoot in a way he hopes comes across as unbothered.

Dewdrop raises an eyebrow. “Take the mask off. Don’t need it here. Let us see who we have to put up with.”

Aurum grins, bright and as easy as he can make it seem even as he can hear the Cardinal sputtering. He reaches up to pull the chrome from his face, letting his glamour melt away. He feels their eyes on him, searching for something he can’t quite place. Can’t quite place what exactly they all think of his unglamoured, true appearance. “My apologies, Dewdrop, but have we met before? You seem incredibly familiar. I think you were there for my summoning, but you looked a little different.”

There’s a flash of something that flares in Dew’s eyes, an almost imperceptible widening, before Dewdrop just glares. But Aurum catches it.

His tail lashes behind him, spikes scraping against the floor. “Absolutely the fuck not,” he snaps. Cirrus and Cumulus’s heads whip over to stare. Rain flinches the slightest bit.

“Sorry,” Aurum shrugs, smiling but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Could’ve sworn I saw a water ghoul there, but, you know, I could have just been out of it.”

Dew’s upper lip curls up in a sneer, twisting the thin mustache there. “You were,” he snaps.

Aurum just shrugs again, still smiling easily. He can handle this. A little voice in the back of his mind laughs about denial. Like he’s one to talk. He ignores it.

“How’d you know? You just said you weren’t there,” Aurum smiles. Dewdrop scoffs loudly, and the Cardinal scrambles in between the two of them, even though there’s still almost an entire room’s worth of distance.

“Enough of that,” He says, laughing nervously. “We are to work together, no? None of this.”

Dew takes a deep, shuddering breath. He bows his head, even as his lip’s still curled up in a sneer. “Si, Cardinale.”

Aurum says nothing.

The door creaks heavily open behind him, and every muscle in his body goes rigid as Aurum can feel the ghouls looming behind him. Every eye looks past him, Dewdrop almost seeming to relax as Cumulus smiles warmly.

“Aether, Mount!” She greets. Aurum doesn’t dare turn around, the name too familiar.

“Cardinal Copia,” a deep voice says, wary. “Your presence is a pleasure.”

Another ghoul speaks, and this time Aurum tenses like he’s trapped. “And I see the multighoul’s made a full recovery.”

He knows this voice. Knows it was the ghoul that kept avoiding him when he was in the infirmary. He’s still not quite sure why, but there’s vitriol underneath the pleasantness of his tone.

“He has, si,” the Cardinal says, looking past Aurum to the two newcomers. “I brought him down to make introductions. But, Aether, surely you must have met him by now, no?”

There’s a long suffering sigh behind him, followed by a low, disingenuous laugh. Aurum remembers, distinctly, what it felt like when his feet sunk into the earth and trapped him. “No, Cardinal, my duties took me elsewhere.”

“Alrightie,” The Cardinal shrugs, turning back to Aurum, gesturing to the two big ghouls. “Multi, our earth and quintessence ghouls, Mountain and Aether. They are both veterans of the Project along with Dewdrop, and I hope they will guide you as well as they have guided me. Aether and Mountain, our new multighoul, well. Multi.”

Aurum swallows hard and turns around, clutching his mask in his hands. Behind him are two of the biggest ghouls he’s ever seen. It takes every ounce of his will not to cower back, to hold his own as they both glare at him.

The earth ghoul, Mountain, has to hunch slightly, so tall that his antlers would scrape against the stonework ceiling if he stood straight, taller than Esker and Moraine both. Long auburn hair falls from where he tied it back, emerald eyes piercing and narrowed. He cocks his head back and forth, hackles raised.

And if Aurum thought that Mountain was glaring at him, Aether’s glare is so much worse. There’s something burning in the deep violet of his eyes, the bulk of his wide shoulders and broad chest heaving as he grits his teeth. Bright purple hair rushes back in a mohawk, framed by two black, pronged horns. His upper lip lifts in a snarl, revealing a gold tusk.

The Cardinal wrings his hands. “Enough of that, we are to work together, no?”

Aether freezes, squeezes his eyes shut. Mountain puts his hand on the other ghoul’s shoulders. “Of course, Cardinal,” Mountain says, voice deep and soft like a distant rockslide. “Aeth,” he says, leaning in to whisper to him. “Aeth, please.”

The quintessence ghoul, after a moment, nods. “Yes,” he says, bowing a head to the new frontman. He levels one last glare at Aurum before moving past him, bumping shoulders harshly as he makes his way to Dew’s side. He pulls the little fire ghoul against him, and he goes without protest.

Aurum matches his stare, holds his chin up, because there’s no fucking way he’s going to let that slide. But in front of the Cardinal, he just holds himself to the promise of later.

The Cardinal claps his gloved hands together, the sharp noise enough to startle several ghouls, Aurum included. “Well. Introductions. I will show Multi to his room and then I will be out of your hair,” he says, forced cheer barely hiding the man’s nerves. They smell acrid.

Cumulus smiles, leaning against Cirrus’ shoulder. “Perfect,” she says, either not picking up on or just straight up ignoring the thick tension in the air.

“When do practices start?” Rain cuts in, finned tail flicking through the air like it’s cutting through water. His long, elegant fingers twitch at his sides, glancing around the room and not quite looking at his summoner.

The Cardinal thinks for a moment, clearly not quite comfortable yet with everyone’s eyes on him. “Group practice will start tomorrow,” he says. “Once you all have had a little time to settle. Get to know each other.”

The speed at which everyone’s eyes shift from the Cardinal to Aurum makes his head spin. His fingers clench at his side, and his heart races so fast he thinks that Omega might have made the wrong choice releasing him from his care.

Aurum straightens, muscles so tense his back starts to ache, before dropping into a looser, more relaxed posture, glancing from ghoul to ghoul. He hopes he’s coming off as warm. It seems like it’s working until he locks eyes with Aether.

The anger there is palpable.

If he were unglamoured, his ears would pin back flush to his skull, tail curling around his leg like a kit. But he swallows hard and meets Aether’s gaze back.

The world around him sort of dulls. He can hear the Cardinal wishing them farewell as he returns to his own duties, hears himself replying alongside the others. But there’s a fog around him that’s only broken when Aether huffs, turning to Dewdrop and murmuring something too low for him to pick up. The two of them turn and disappear down the hallway, and one by one, the others go too.

Aurum squeezes his eyes shut, letting out a shallow, shaky exhale once he thinks he’s alone. Lets everything come down for just a moment before trying to integrate himself into this pack’s lives.

“You alright?”

Aurum startles, whirling on his heels to face the voice. He’s met with the water ghoul, Rain. Those inky deep eyes stare into him, the distinction between pupil and iris only differentiated with a glimmer of blue.

He blinks slowly, head tilting as he takes Aurum in. Aurum just straightens, hoping that at least one of these ghouls finds something worthy.

“I’m sure they’ll warm up to you soon,” he says, gills on the sides of his neck fluttering with the rise and fall of his chest. His voice is quiet, not quite shy but something aloof and hesitant. “It took them a few days for me.”

Aurum’s brow furrows, unable to look away from this siren. Rain blinks, finned ears tucked close to his head, the teal peeking out from blue-black waves that hang shaggy and brush against his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” Aurum says. He isn’t sure what he’s apologizing for.

Rain just shakes his head. Puts a hand on his bicep, fingers splayed and putting the webbing on full display. “Do you want me to show you where you’re staying?” he asks softly.

He manages to pull his eyes away from Rain, glancing to the hallway all the others disappeared down. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

The water ghoul smiles wide enough to put those serrated teeth on full display, and Aurum hauls his guard all the way back up. “Follow me, all of us new summons are at the end of the hall.”

He turns and walks away, and Aurum snaps out of whatever weird fog he’d found himself in to follow.

The hall is narrow, lined with thick wooden doors, each with a bronze nameplate. Aether, Mountain, Dewdrop… and then the nameplates tarnish, letters scraped away in a fury. Aurum’s hackles raise as Rain leads him further away from the open common room. His stomach churns. There is something unfathomably large here. Invisible, almost tangible.

For what it’s worth, Rain either isn’t affected by it, or is just incredibly good at pretending. He keeps walking to the very end of the hall, a small altar set into a niche. The flame of the pillar candle set there flickers, and Aurum shifts onto his back foot. His heart races in time with it and he hates it.

Rain turns back around. Aurum scrambles to look nonchalant. “This one’s yours,” he says, voice smooth and even, gesturing to a door with another scratched out nameplate. The only betrayal of confusion on Rain’s face is the way his dark eyes flash from Aurum to the altar and back.

“Thanks,” he says, trying his best to lay it on thick the way that made Fog smack his arm playfully, once upon a time. Even though it’s only been a few weeks at most since he’d crawled from the Pit, it genuinely feels like a lifetime ago. Like it was a completely different ghoul who’d run with Fog and her pack.

It was.

He slips into the room that is apparently his now and starts to close the door. Rain cuts in, long fingers curling elegantly around the door jamb. “I’ll see you at practice?” he says, an eyebrow quirking up in curiosity. His finned tail flicks behind him.

“ Aurum nods, reaching a hand up to smooth back his locs. “I’ll see you at practice. This can’t be too hard, right?” There’s a lilt in his tone, even as his fingers shake the slightest bit. Rain shrugs, shifting on his feet. Stares at him down the bridge of his prominent nose. “It was pretty quick to pick up bass guitar,” Rain says. “I’ve never played before. I don’t know how quickly you’ll pick up your parts, though. The Cardinal said that you’d have more than one.” Aurum exhales hard through his nose. “For the different elements.” ”That’s what he told me,” Rain says. “I do hope you don’t have too hard a time. Though some of the others might be able to help? Depending on what elements.”

He just shrugs. “I’ll ask for help if I need it,” he lies. “I’ve always been pretty quick at picking things up.”

Rain smiles. “Good to hear. I- Uh, I think I’m taking up too much of your time,” he says, finned tail sweeping against the stone floor as it waves behind him languidly. “I’ll let you get settled.”

“It was nice meeting you, Rain,” he says, because it’s true.

“Likewise. Glad you’re doing better.” The water ghoul lowers his head for a moment, before backing away with a smile and turning towards another door, the same defaced brass nameplate embedded in it. “See you tomorrow.”

Aurum nods. “See you tomorrow.”

He slips into his room, and his entire posture drops the moment he hears the door latch. He flips the lock before pressing his back against the door, chest heaving with a long, weary sigh. Everything feels like it’s crushing him, a barrage of new stimuli making his skin itch in a way it hasn’t in a while.

Aurum gives himself just a moment to shove his face in his hands. He does his best to get his breathing under control. It shakes and protests his every effort to force it into obedience.

Eventually though, he gets there. He doesn’t feel like he’s going to pass out at the next new sensation anymore. He rolls his shoulders back, one of them popping and settling back into its joint, and takes a look around.

It’s fairly bare bones, but it’s more furnished than anything Aurum’s had access to since he was a kit. A mattress on a frame large enough for him to properly stretch out on, burgundy sheets and covers made up in crisp, near military lines. A desk and chair, a wardrobe, a floor lamp, shelves with nothing held upon them. There’s heavy, navy curtains against one of the walls, a sliver of golden, reddish light painted onto the stone floor where they haven’t been drawn all the way.

He showers, ridding himself of the last of the antiseptic scent that’s been clinging to him since he left the infirmary. Changes into soft, warm clothes that have been supplied to him. The adrenaline of everything new is coming down and coming down fast.

Aurum sprawls out on his back on his brand new bed, not even bothering to turn down the covers. He groans as he almost seems to sink into the mattress, so much softer than where he’s been sleeping for the last few parts of his life.

His chest rises and falls with a deep, slow breath. And then his brow furrows.

The room has been cleaned since whoever lived here last left. But underneath the scent of fresh air when the windows had been left open to air out, there’s the hint of something darker, warmer. Almost, he strains to inhale as much as he can, like amber and saffron and spice.

He lays on his back, eyes wide open, as he stares up at the ceiling, breathing in the last dregs of this stranger’s scent. There’s a scorch mark on the one of the tiles in the tin ceiling.

Sleep takes him as he wonders who he’d been meant to replace, and why they’d need replacing.

Practice starts early the next morning. Rain meets him in the commons, wearing all black and an identical mask to the one that Omega’d given him, presses a mug of something hot and bitter smelling into his hands. “There’s sugar in the kitchen, but a couple of the others are there right now. I understand if you want to keep a little distance for now, they were pretty harsh yesterday.”

Aurum blinks, still reeling from a dream where someone’d been yelling at him. He’d woken up unsure whose voice it was, rattled to the core. “Thanks,” he says, a little wide eyed. Aurum glances down at the mug and takes a sip, grimacing at the taste. “Shit, that’s, that’s sure something,” he sputters, laughing a little.

Rain smiles a little sheepishly, glancing up at the clock. “It’s coffee. Should wake you up a little bit,” he teases, knocking a shoulder against Swiss’s. The ease with which Rain’s made himself comfortable with Aurum makes his head spin a little. “Reckoned you didn’t have any in the infirmary. It’s very human.”

“They drink this?” he says, a little astonished. Rain just laughs. Cirrus and Cumulus emerge from the hallway, greeting Rain before turning to Aurum.

“Morning, boys,” Cumulus says, face rosy with sleep, her curls neatly pulled back as she buttons up her black uniform shirt, her tie and suspenders missing. She’s tucked under Cirrus’s arm, held close to her side.

“Good morning,” Aurum says, bowing his head a little as he greets each of them. His tail flicks and curls around his calves, moving languidly. Cirrus smiles, glances at his mug.

“We’re excited to finally have you join us,” she says, her voice soft and low. In the hand that’s not around her partner’s shoulders is a similar mask to the one that Aurum wears now, silver curls framing the face.

“Me too,” he says, and he’s genuinely surprised to realize that he means it. He takes another drink from the mug Rain had given him, grimacing.

“There’s milk and sugar in the kitchen,” the water ghoul says again, almost reaching to take the mug from him.

Aurum opens his mouth to reply when two figures emerge from the kitchen door. He freezes in place as bright violet eyes glare at him from behind chrome.

“Morning, Aeth,” Cumulus says, glancing between the quint ghoul and Aurum, judging the tension. Aether turns away to face her, and Aurum feels something bristle in him at the way Aether’s entire self seems to melt.

He doesn’t know what he’s done to upset him, and the sting of familiarity is the part that hurts the most.

Aurum downs the rest of the coffee, ignoring the sharp taste, and slinks into the kitchen to put the mug in the sink. The day’s hardly begun and he already wants to go back to hiding in his room.

But practice is to be had, and he doesn’t want to risk upsetting his summoner by not attending. All of the ghouls gather in the commons, dressed near identically, and one by one, they don their masks and slip out into the halls. Aurum follows them, winding through another set of hallways and stairwells until they reach a room in the lowest level of the Ministry with wide double doors.

There’s about a dozen instruments mounted on the walls, and Aether, Dew and Rain each reach for one of their own. Sleek, black and white, almost sharp curved bodies, and they sling the guitar straps over their shoulders before heading to the center of the room.

It’s the mock up of a stage, and Mountain holds out his hand to Cumulus as they and Cirrus climb up the steps to the back platform; the ghoulettes sitting behind keyboards and Mountain taking a deep breath as he sits behind a massive, intricate drum kit.

There’s an empty corner marked by a microphone, and Aurum glances around waiting for any sort of direction. A flash of red catches his eye, and he turns to face the Cardinal.

“Multi, I apologize, heh,” he says, tripping over his tongue in his mouth as he approaches Aurum. The other ghouls warm up, tuning and testing equipment, and some of them look like it’s simply second nature. His fingers twitch. “Forgive me, I have not shown you your instruments or your parts.”

Aurum bows his head. “It’s alright, Cardinal,” he says, even as he feels his heartbeat picking up, that bird that makes his ribcage its home desperate to get out. “Yesterday was busy.”

“Eh, it was,” he says, leading Aurum back to that wall of instruments. His summoner reaches up and pulls down a sleek black guitar, rounded edges polished to such a shine that he can see his own reflection in it. “This is to be yours, my ghoul.”

The Cardinal passes it to him, and Aurum takes it carefully. Knows instinctively that this is an object of some great importance. It feels almost right in his hands and he relishes in that sensation. “I- uh- forgive me, Cardinal,” he says carefully, watching his face for any sort of reaction. “I’ve never played anything like this.”

He just nods, like he’d been expecting such a response. “Many of our ghouls who have served the Project had no musical experience prior to coming Up Top,” he says, and Aurum can hear the many times his summoner’s said this before in the tone of his voice. “You can be taught, and well, eh, most of our newcomers pick up their required skills quite quickly.”

Aurum takes a deep breath, slings the strap over his head, and tries to settle his limbs in a close approximation of how Rain’s holding his guitar. Fingertips of one hand on the neck, thumb resting on the thickest string. It smells of metal and polish, heavy in his nose but far from unpleasant.

“Your guitar parts are in a folder on your platform,” the Cardinal continues. “Of course, when we do head out for shows, we do need to be memorized. Lord Below knows I still need to do some memorizing of the old songs.”

Aurum nods, but he’s picking gently at that thickest string, feeling the vibration of the lowest note buzz against his stomach. He swallows hard. He can do this. And once he gets back into the practice of reading music and singing, he should be golden. The thought makes him cringe for just a moment.

Once again, he’s glad he’s wearing something that obscures most of his face.

“And you have very similar parts to Aether, so if you need help, I am almost certain he’d be willing to help you. He is a very skilled guitarist.”

Aurum wouldn’t call himself the greatest at reading people, especially humans he’s known for less than twenty four hours. But the waiver of uncertainty in the Cardinal’s tone is loud and clear. He glances over the human’s shoulder, only flinching a little bit as those violet eyes burn into him.

Aether turns his back, making his way over to Dewdrop, and leans in to whisper in the fire ghoul’s ear. Dew nods, glancing over to the Cardinal, before letting Aether guide his hands over his instrument.

“He’s been helping Dewdrop learn a new instrument as well,” the Cardinal explains uncertainly. He wrings his gloved hands together in a motion that almost looks like he wants to pick at his hangnails, but the leather prevents such a thing. “He has truly been a great help during this time of great transition.”

Dew looks up at that. Orange eyes burning. Aurum just swallows hard, staring down at the guitar in his hands. “Thank you, Cardinal. I look forward to learning.”

He smiles, the thin mustache on his upper lip curling a little bit. Nervous, sure, but genuine.

It’s easy enough to refresh himself on reading sheet music. He thanks the Sisters that humans used a similar enough notation, and then freezes up on his platform. Aurum hasn’t done anything like that in decades, thanking the Sisters. He shakes his head and gets back to it.

He’s more than clumsy with his new guitar, outshined by miles by the rest of the ghouls around him. Aurum likes to think he makes up for it with his singing. He can feel the gazes of the others, turning to watch when the Cardinal works with him alone.

In the same way that Aurum’s new life had been measured by the intervals between being checked up on in the infirmary, his life becomes the intervals between practices. It’s a struggle, sometimes, willing himself to focus on learning.

Something deep inside of him bristles when he sings praise for a deity he turned his back on more than half of his life ago.

But he knows, somehow, that to protest means being sent back. And that thought makes him feel worse. Not after all the work they’d put in to keep him alive. Aurum knows they’d take it out of his hide before kicking him back Down.

So he keeps singing.

The guitar comes less easily, much to his frustration. The damn thing is so touchy, intricate and foreign. As much as he doesn’t want to, with the tour fast approaching and his parts far from mastered, he knows what his only option is.

It’s difficult to get him alone, because he’s always shoulder to shoulder with Dewdrop, but somehow, Aurum catches Aether alone in the Ministry halls one afternoon.

The quintessence ghoul’s expression changes lightning fast when he realizes who’d stopped him, just a flash of vitriol before fading to something pointedly neutral. “How can I help you, Multi?”

Aurum tries his best to pull together any semblance of confidence, that ease and smoothness that he can pull with Rain, Cirrus, Cumulus. He holds his wrist behind his back, fingers wrapped around thin skin over bone.

“I was told by the Cardinal that you’d be willing to help me with practice?” he says, and curses himself to the City and back when it comes out shaky. Unsure. “Having, well, a fair bit of trouble with the guitar. I’m not quite getting the hang of it.”

Aether, even behind the mask, raises an eyebrow. Aurum winces as he stares him down. “I know,” he says curtly. “Believe me, I know.”

Aurum’s hackles raise, and he takes a deep breath to try and stay level. He knows Aether’s got him beat if he steps out of line. All he smells is ozone. Roiling storms under the thin veneer of fresh air. “Well, sorry, this is all still new to me,” he mumbles, looking away. “The Cardinal told me to go to you.”

Aether huffs, thick arms crossed in front of a broad chest. There’s the glint of silver, a bracelet, wrapped around one wrist. “Well, I can help you, but I’m currently helping Dewdrop with lead guitar. I will help you as soon as he’s got it down.”

“I need- Don’t we leave-” Aurum sputters, grip tightening around his own wrist. “Please.”

Aether hums, head tipping back a little as he considers. “I know we leave soon. I’m just,” he takes a deep breath. Aurum is reminded of overhearing him that first day awake. “I’m incredibly busy,” he says. “You know what? I’m going to talk to Omega. He had my part when he was part of the Project. I’m sure he’ll be able to help you while I help Dewdrop.”

Aurum slinks back a little bit. “I mean, absolutely, any help I could possibly get.” He tries not to let any sort of bitterness through on his tone. But he knows Aether’s quintessence, can probably tell anyways.

Aether grins. The gold fang gleams at him through the cutout of his mask. “I’ll go talk to him, then. On my way to the infirmary now, as it was. I’ll have him let you know.”

Aurum knows a dismissal when he hears it. He lowers his head to Aether the way he’s been doing to the Cardinal. Something burns in his chest. “Thank you, Aether,” he says. He’s not sure how much of it he means.

Omega reaches out not long after. To his credit, Omega’s an incredibly skilled guitarist. Infinitely patient as well. He’s taught before, even if he doesn’t mention who exactly it was in Aurum’s position last.

He works Aurum through all of the old songs, trying his hand at some of the Cardinal’s own, even if he never played any of them with the Project. It’s always at strange times of day, whenever Omega can sneak away from the infirmary for an hour or two without the place catching fire.

But Aurum is truly grateful for any help he can get, does his genuine best to focus and learn and absorb. Tour looms closer every single day.

It’s late one night, a few days before they’re meant to ship out, when Aurum turns to Omega in the practice room after the older ghoul hangs up his retired Fantomen back on its mount.

“I really don’t think Aether told me the truth,” Aurum says, fiddling with a tuning peg on his own Hagström.

“Hm?” Omega says, running a clawed hand through his greying hair. “About what?”

Aurum takes a breath. “About why exactly he couldn’t help me? He said he had to help Dewdrop, but their parts aren’t the same.”

Even with his back turned, Aurum can see clear as day the way Omega stiffens. A low groan escapes his throat. “I trust Aether. With the Project and the infirmary. I trained him for both. But you’re right. Aether’s… Aether’s troubled right now. Who isn’t?”

Aurum doesn’t respond.

Omega turns to peer over his shoulder, a bright lavender eye meeting his own. “It’s not my business to share, but things have been shaken up here quite dramatically in the last year.”

He nods. “I- I can feel it,” he admits, stretching his wrists and shoulders. “It feels like- I was in kind of a bad spot Down Below for a while. Kind of feels like that. Waiting for a shoe to drop.”

Omega, like he had in the infirmary countless times, goes a little hazy in his eyes. It’s only for a moment, and he snaps back to himself visibly. Gives a little chuckle. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“What happened to Aether?” Aurum asks. He’s a little surprised to find genuine curiosity behind it.

The older ghoul lets out a soft exhale through his nose, those violet eyes shutting as he braces himself. Goes somewhere else for a moment. “That’s, well. That’s not exactly for me to tell you. Not my business. But he, Mountain, and Dewdrop are the only surviving ghouls of the previous… administration. Minus myself. But I’m from some time older.”

Aurum lets that sit for a moment. But Omega’s not done.

“Aether took it particularly hard because of the fact that he and Dewdrop are mates. Very recent mates, in fact.” Omega’s brow furrows, and he looks deeply concerned all of a sudden. “Don’t tell them I’m telling you this. But they only became mates after you were summoned. I think it gave them enough to make it through that week. Lord Below knows they needed it, may He watch over them.”

He shrinks in on himself. Stares at Omega.

The silence feels thick and sticky, and Aurum’s hackles raise. Omega startles a little. “Wait, I forgot-” He turns to where his white coat’s abandoned in a pile on a crate of equipment; abandoned when he’d come in for lessons. “I know you’re headed out with the Cardinal in a few days. I wanted to give you a going away gift, of sorts.”

Aurum perks up, head tilted like a puppy that’s found something confusing. “Oh, Omega, I couldn’t-”

Omega doesn’t seem to listen, rustling in his coat pockets. “You’ve grown leaps and bounds since we’ve met, Multi, and I am genuinely, deeply proud of all that you’ve been able to accomplish. I’m certain you are going to make the Olde One proud.”

Despite the way his chest swells with warmth as Omega praises him, Aurum winces hard at the thought. Omega’s back is turned and he doesn’t notice a thing. With a satisfied huff, Omega straightens once he’s found what he’s looking for. He turns back with a black velvet bag in one large hand. It’s similar to the bag that had held his mask when it had been presented to him.

“Now, I haven’t seen you attend Mass. And that’s perfectly fine, I promise. Not all of us- I understand not everyone is deeply pious here, despite it being an abbey. But I still wanted to give you this for the road. It brought me comfort when I was away from the chapels, on tours, and I hope that you may find use for it.”

Omega presses the bag into Aurum’s waiting hands, beaming down at him. “Thank you,” he says, feeling items shifting underneath the velvet. Something hard. “Truly.”

He claps him on the shoulder, and Aurum shuts his eyes with a shudder at the sensation of touch. “You’re going to be great, Multi. Don’t you forget it.”

“Thank you, Omega,” Aurum says, because that’s all he feels like he knows how to say. “I- I’ll do my best.”

“And that is all we ask for,” Omega says, but there’s something behind his eyes that says that’s not up to him to decide.

Once he’s back in the ghoul wing, sequestered away carefully behind a locked door, he overturns the contents of that little velvet bag over his duvet. A few things tumble out; a bundle of incense that smells sweet and herbal, even unlit, a plain silver grucifix on a rosary, a gold ceramic candle holder, and a tall, thin black pillar candle.

All of a sudden, he’s a kit leaving home again, the last glance at that altar opposite the front door with the five candles identical to this very one.

His chest heaves, claws digging into the meat of his palms. A gray haze settles over him. Aurum doesn’t know how much time passes before he snaps out of it, a sharp pain in the spade of his tail.

He shakes himself to awareness to find the leathery spade between his teeth, fangs having pierced the skin on accident. Like a teething fucking kit instead of a grown adult.

“ Fuck, ” he snaps, cursing up a quiet storm in Ghoulish. He reaches for the candle holder, itching to feel the way it’ll shatter if he fastballs the ceramic into the stone wall. A wave of shame hits him like a train at the thought and his tail, still bleeding sluggishly, curls around his calf.

This was a gift. A travel altar for the One Aurum’s turned his back on, sure, but it’s still a gift. He can’t just- Fuck!

Aurum snarls, pacing a little in his room, still just as bare bones as the moment Rain showed it to him. There’s a bag half packed on his desk, toiletries and whatever casual clothes he’s been able to scrounge up. Mostly band tees and jeans, but that’s not important when compared to the garment bag that his uniform is hung up in.

Aurum takes a deep breath and packs up Omega’s gift. Tucks the travel altar into the very bottom of his bag. Just to say he took it if Omega asks later.

He thinks he’s ready. For what it’s worth, he convinces himself he’s ready. He’s always been a halfway decent liar.

The start of the tour is not marked with a grand departure. Sure, the human Siblings of the Abbey celebrate the spreading of the Word, but it is overshadowed by the sense of upheaval and grief that cloaks the entire Ministry. And there is absolutely nothing glamorous in the way all seven ghouls and the Cardinal shuffle about their tour bus, trying to get situated.

Aurum watches his bandmates claim bunks, stands for a moment watching all of the chaos as the Cardinal shuffles through the tight aisle to get to the back bedroom. He takes a deep breath and hauls himself up into one of the top bunks that the others seem to be ignoring.

It’s dark and quiet, and Aurum instantly relaxes despite the tight quarters reminding him intimately of that lichen covered cave in the Seventh. Of ghouls he has been trying so hard not to think about since he nearly burned alive.

He shuts his eyes. This is to be his home for the next few months. Best that he gets rid of that connotation sooner rather than later.

The bus rumbles underneath him, and soon, Aurum finds himself falling asleep.

The next thing he really knows, between sleep and travel and the dull haze he’s been finding himself slipping into every now and again, is waiting backstage at his very first Ritual.

Aurum can hear the people outside waiting for them, the noise of the crowd cresting and falling like a living, breathing thing. He supposes it sort of is. Aurum doesn’t think he’s quite wrapped his head around what he’s gotten himself into.

There’s no nerves. He itches to be out of his glamour. His fingers reach up to fidget with the hem of his balaclava, can feel the heat of the sun beating down onto him and his bandmates, all in their matching black uniforms.

It doesn’t bother him, body already used to such warm temperatures, but he seems to be only one of a few. Cumulus fans herself with her hand as she stands next to Aether and Dew in their little huddle.

“This is nothing,” he overhears Aether tell Cumulus, nudging a big shoulder against the smaller ghoul’s before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Our old uniforms, the wool cassocks and the masks without the cutouts? Woof. Imagine breathing in your own humidity for several hours straight.”

“At least we weren’t around for those big robes when the Project first started,” Dew cuts in, shaking out his hands, flexing spindly fingers like he’s itching to get his Fantomen in his hands. The blue of his eyes gleams out from the eye holes of his mask. Aurum avoids his gaze.

Rain wrings his hands in front of him, long fingers curling around each other, and Mountain leans in to whisper in the water ghoul’s ear. Eventually, Rain relaxes some, leaning up to smile and whisper back to the taller ghoul.

Of all of them, Cirrus seems the least affected by what they’re all about to do, minus the ghouls who have in fact done this before.

Aurum does his best to remember chords and frets and finger placements and setlist order and harmonies and there is so much going on in his head he feels like it might burst. No, it’s not nerves, he laughs quietly to himself.

The Cardinal is with them, travel mug in hand, pacing and muttering to himself in a mix of Italian, Swedish and English. The others spare him glances, and Aurum thinks he hears Cirrus ask Mountain if they should go to him.

Aurum doesn’t wait to hear the older ghoul’s response. He slips out of the circle and falls in step at the Cardinal’s side.

The man perks up a little, stops in his tracks. Behind him, Aurum can hear the entire rest of the band fall uneasily silent. “We go on soon, Cardinal,” Aurum leans in and murmurs in his ear. The Cardinal’s paints are freshly applied, his upper lip and eyes painted black and lined crisply. Aurum imagines that won’t quite last long, given the heat and sweat of performing, has seen the man after practices.

“Oh, believe me, eh. I know,” The Cardinal says, something bright in his eyes. The Eye especially burns out from the black paint. “You are with me for Miasma, remember?”

Aurum nods. Only vaguely remembering the talk they’d had a few weeks ago about stepping off stage to assist with that particular quick change. They’d have no other need of him during that part of the set, and he’d been more than happy to help. “Of course, Cardinal.”

The human turns to face him, and Aurum still isn’t used to the unadulterated attention of the Eye. A little voice in the back of his mind tells him that he’d run away from all of this. Another voice says that was a lifetime ago. “Are you ready, my ghoul?” he asks with some hesitancy.

Aurum shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath. Lets his shoulders rise and fall with it. “I think I am, Cardinal, and that’s much better than knowing for sure I’m not.”

It draws a startled laugh from the Cardinal’s mouth, and a little bit of the tension that wracked his frame dissipates with it. Aurum counts that as a win. “You truly walk the path of a first,” the Cardinal says, and he can’t see the way Aurum flinches. He shakes his head. The Cardinal has no reason to know of the First families that he once belonged to. “I, eh, I have some large sets of shoes to fill. But I have faith that you all and I will be of great service to our Olde One.”

Aurum opens his mouth to protest, but then there’s the call for places, and a bolt of electricity seems to shoot down each one of their spines. Brought to life and animated, the ghouls and the Cardinal all scramble to their spots. Aurum gets up on his platform, rolls his neck, and takes his Hagström from one of the techs.

Ashes begins to play, and Aurum watches from on high as the crowd morphs and comes alive . A rush of energy so strong it nearly makes his knees buckle hits him, and the show begins.

All of his nerves and fear vanish as his fingers move on muscle memory. He watches the others move on the stage below him, the Cardinal moving between them. Even as Aurum’s voice joins his, he can’t help but admit that the Cardinal’s voice was meant to be the Mouthpiece. He does not believe. Hasn’t for a very long time. But he knows that this will sway more humans to His cause, and Aurum sings and plays to the very best of his ability.

Better than all of that is the sensation of countless human eyes on him. Sure, most of them are watching the Cardinal. But he knows the feeling of being watched. Aurum just hopes they like what they’re seeing.

He lets the music move him and his body, he’s heard it all before in practice, but in performance it’s miles apart. Worries more about showmanship than precise technique.

It works perfectly until Cirice.

The Cardinal steps out onto the platform connecting his own to Mountain’s platform and Cumulus and Cirrus’s platform, walks down to center stage as the song starts. Aurum realizes with a bolt of true, genuine fear that his mind has gone blank. Muscle memory failing him.

Omega’d drilled Cirice with him for what felt like twenty thousand times. And every single one seems to have been wiped from his memory.

He knows he’s supposed to come in on harmony during the bridge, but- what section- oh fuck- it’s now, isn’t it- His entire body seizes up and he does what he’s been taught. Aurum starts to sing.

The Cardinal does not join.

Aurum’s eyes go wide and golden behind his mask. True terror fills every cell of his body. His heart is a bird slamming itself into its cage in a desperate attempt to break free or kill itself trying.

He can’t stop now, just keeps singing. And when the Cardinal comes in at the correct time, Aurum’s face burns as he sings the harmony on the bridge again.

Across the stage, Dew’s eyes burn as he glares at him. Aurum swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut. Show must go on.

And go on it does. After his little slip up with Cirice, Aurum falls back into the swing of things with an almost practiced ease. Of course, he knows it’s all bullshitted, but he does his best to actually make it seem like he knows what he’s doing.

Before he knows it, the band takes a quick break before Monstrance Clock starts, signaling the end of the Ritual. A call to dark prayer and worship, if there ever were one.

Come with us. Join us.

Despite everything, every promised curse, Aurum finds himself swaying along, his Hagström moving with him. Shuts his eyes and sings and plays and feels something spark almost painfully in his chest that he quickly snuffs out. He knows it’s there, but he’s far from ready to address it. Maybe one day. Maybe after closing dozens of shows in this exact way.

But today is not that day.

Aurum steps down from his platform for bows, hands his Hagström to the tech who’d given it to him at the start of the night, joins the others. Satisfaction and exhaustion roll of off his fellow ghouls in waves, even noticeable in human glamour. They toss out guitar picks and drumsticks bow to the crowd, hand in hand, and then they file off into the wings.

The Cardinal breaks off to talk to one of the road staff, but Aurum isn’t worried about that. He has more pressing issues. Like-

Dew storms up to him the moment they both are out of sight of the crowd, eyes burning even through the blue of his glamour.

“What the fuck was that?” he snarls as they file into the dressing room. Aether and Mountain follow close behind, and Rain shares a nervous look with Cirrus and Cumulus.

Aurum shrugs. He crosses his arms over his broad chest as Dew gets up into his space. “What? I made a mistake, oh no, they’ll banish me because I came in at the wrong place.”

Dew huffs sharply, acrid steam curling from his lips. He rolls his eyes as he glares up at him. Aurum thinks the height difference makes it look hilarious, actually. Making a big deal out of nothing. Dew can bark all he likes, but Aurum knows his bite can’t be worth shit. “I don’t know if you understand exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into, Multi,” he snaps. “But the Ghost Project is an esteemed program. I’d take this a little more seriously, if I were you.”

Aurum scoffs, his glamoured nails digging into the meat of his palms. His body aches just on the wrong side of pleasant, and the adrenaline of the show hasn’t gone down yet. All things considered, he’s been itching for something like this since he woke up Topside. “Well, Dewdrop,” he leans down, letting the gold burn through the dark brown of his human irises. He flashes his teeth in a sneer. “I’m not you, thank the Sisters. I think I’m taking this just as seriously as I need to.”

He can feel the others’ eyes on him. Knows he’s pushing buttons just for the sake of a release. Aether’s glare in particular is sharp, knows the little fire ghoul in front of him is the quint’s mate.

Dew doesn’t back down. If anything, he just gets further into Aurum’s face, nose crinkling as he scowls. “What a disgrace of a ghoul.” He raises an eyebrow, gaze digging into him. Appraising and coming up short. “You are here to spread the Infernal Majesty’s word. To sway the humans to Him. He deserves a better messenger than you.”

Aurum laughs, full chested, like Dew’s just said the funniest joke anyone’s ever heard. This, to his delight, makes Dew recoil. He feels sick. “You really think I care about the fucking Prince? He couldn’t give a shit about me, so it’s only fair I return the favor.”

Dew splutters. “He made us. He cares.”

He lets his eyes drag down Dew’s body, flicking back up to where his face is rapidly reddening. The rest of the band doesn’t exist right now. It’s just the two of them, and fuck, is it fun to press his buttons. “You keep telling yourself that. He sure does care. That’s why He hurts us and turns His back when we ask for Him. You should know better than most, huh, Dew? Funny name for a fire ghoul, don’tcha think?”

Someone growls. Aurum barely hears it.

Dew’s eyes go wide before they narrow, and he steps closer into Aurum’s space. “Oh, fuck you, Multi,” Dew spits. He’s close enough that he can feel the acrid steam rolling from his mouth as he speaks. “If your worthless ass hadn’t been summoned, maybe it wouldn’t be so funny a name.”

Aurum rolls his eyes. This just seems to piss Dew off more.

“You inconsiderate fucking piece of shit,” he snaps.

The world goes red the moment the word slips from Dew’s lips.

Aurum lashes out, big hands finding Dew’s shoulders. He shoves him back so hard that Dew stumbles, falling on his ass with a shout, just barely catching himself with his hands. Wide eyes stare up at him, stunned into silence. Rain physically recoils. Cirrus hisses. A moment of tense, suffocating quiet waiting for the shoe to drop.

Yelling breaks out, so many voices that Aurum can’t pick out the individual words.

He barely has a moment to realize what he’s done before there are hands on him. Aether moves with surprising speed for a ghoul his size, growling so loudly it sounds like a roar.

Aether shoves him against the cinderblock wall behind him with a loud thud. Aurum barely feels it. “Keep your fucking hands off of him,” Aether snarls, pressed so close that Aurum’s eyes cross as he tries to look at him.

“Or what?” he laughs. He doesn’t stop laughing, even as Aether’s hand grabs the column of his throat, grinding the back of his skull into the wall. Even as instinctual fear jolts down his spine, he keeps laughing, grinning manically. He almost wants to spit in Aether’s face just to see what his reaction would be.

Aether’s grip tightens, losing his glamour so the points of his claws dig into his throat. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

“You’re holding back,” Aurum taunts. “Come on, big guy. I know you can do it.”

“I should,” Aether spits. “This is your own fucking fault.”

He cocks his head, even as he winces when Aether’s claws press at his jugular. Wonders what it’ll feel like when they actually make purchase. “Aw, really? What did I do?”

“Son of a bitch,” Aether says, but then Mountain’s pulling hard at his arm, yanking him away from Aether. He just barely has time to take a breath before he realizes Mountain isn’t trying to save him.

He towers over him, the same way he had to Dew. Mountain’s eyes almost glow emerald, and Aurum doesn’t stop grinning. “There has never been need for a multighoul in the Project,” Mountain says, matter-of-fact. His voice wavers with barely held back rage. “We could send you back just the same as the humans.”

“Then why won’t you do it?” Aurum asks. He knows he’s digging himself into a hole, but he doesn’t remember the last time he felt this alive outside of the Ritual. “Come on, did I get summoned to join a pack of cowards? I’m not fighting back. Have fucking at it.”

Mountain growls, low and dangerous like a rockslide. His claws dig into Aurum’s biceps, piercing his shirtsleeves and breaking skin. The iron scent of blood fills his nose, and a dark little voice at the back of his mind hopes the entire pack breaks into a frenzy over it.

He laughs, eyes gleaming. “It’s not going to be me, Multi. He should get to do it,” he rumbles, crossing his arms as he towers over them. “Him and Dew.” Instead, Mountain shoves him back to Aether.

Aether shoves his sweaty shirtsleeves up past thick forearms, the silver of his jewelry glinting in the harsh fluorescents. “I am going to make you fucking regret ever looking at that portal,” Aether says matter of fact, sparks of quintessence jumping from his unglamoured claws. A strong hand closes around his throat. Aurum wheezes sharply as his eyes bug out.

He pulls his hand back to rake down his body and gut him like a fish when the door slams open. Every single ghoul freezes.

“What the fuck have I walked into?” The Cardinal snaps, white Eye raking over the carnage. “I want an explanation. Right now.”

Aether doesn’t look away from Aurum, still glaring daggers into him like he could eviscerate him just like that. “He put his hands on my mate. I am acting accordingly.”

Aurum doesn’t say anything. Chest heaving as Aether lets go, the rough wall still digging into his back through his sweat-soaked shirt. Does not defend himself.

“Is that true, my ghoul?” The Cardinal snaps, wheeling to face Aurum.

The tone makes something shatter in Aurum’s chest, and he wheezes as he tries to answer before he loses himself entirely. His vision unfocuses. His fingertips go numb. It’s too late. It’s not like he was going to defend himself anyways.

Aurum’s startled out of his haze by a hand clapping down on his shoulder. He yelps like a kit caught in the preserves jar. The Cardinal hauls him out of the green room, leading him into the hallway.

There’s still roadies and staff moving about, teardown beginning to really pick up, but the Cardinal ignores them all. Distantly, Aurum thinks about how different he is from the man he’d met in that office. His hands shake. Does not let his mind go to that closed off door at the very core of himself.

The Cardinal huffs, shoves open a door and flicks on the lights. It’s an unused dressing room, by the looks of it, and he hauls Aurum into it and slams the door behind them.

If he were unglamoured, his ears would be pinned back tight to the point of pain, tail curled around his calf or lashing nervously behind him. But for what it’s worth, in this makeshift human skin, all he can do is hold his arms behind himself, a woman’s voice echoing in the back of his mind long before the Cardinal starts to speak.

“Multi, we cannot afford behavior like this,” he says, the black suit clinging to his skin with sweat as he paces. “We made mistakes, yes, we all did. Myself included, eh heh. But that does not mean we can antagonize each other.”

Aurum’s lost, opens his mouth to speak but it’s like he left his voice back in the other room. Maybe that’s all he’s good at, starting problems. It’s been the case since he was a kit.

“Oh, Multi,” the Cardinal says, voice taking a much different tone, and the pity Aurum finds there makes him bristle, retreat even further into his own mind. “Multi, you don’t have to answer, but I just want you to listen, si?”

It’s all he can do to make himself nod.

“I don’t know what your life was like before all of this. You do not have to tell, of course, only if you want,” the Cardinal begins to babble, but cuts himself off. “What I am saying is. We have to work together. We have to, or this whole thing falls apart around us, no? The Clergy would have our heads. I, frankly, do not care for the anger the three of them all have towards you. Nor the anger you clearly have for them. But I am responsible for you and your lot, and your mistakes don’t just reflect poorly onto you, no? They are my responsibility. And I cannot handle looking bad. The Project is shaky enough as is, I cannot afford any more scrutiny. The Sister Imperator would have my head on a platter.”

Aurum opens his mouth to protest, but the words still don’t come. They wouldn’t be true anyways.

“I hope we all can find a way to work through this, Multi. For my sake, your sake, and the entire band’s sake. I just. I do not understand.”

“I- I don’t know, Cardinal,” Aurum’s voice returns to him then. “I just- I don’t-”

The Cardinal sighs, squeezes his eyes shut. He’s close enough that Aurum can see where his paint’s smudging around the edges and creases, skin shiny with sweat. “You don’t have to have an answer now,” he says, and he sounds just as tired as Aurum feels. “But I want you to apologize. I will be talking to the rest of them later. Just. Please, Multi. We all need you, just as you need us. Please.”

Aurum cringes hard, all of that shame and anger and something that hurts too much to name swirling inside of him. “Yes, Cardinal,” he breathes. His eyes sting. “I’m sorry.”

The Cardinal sets a gloved hand on his shoulder. “We will work on it, yes?”

Aurum nods. It’s all he has energy to do.

“Come, let us get changed. We have a hotel tonight, A fresh start in the morning.”

Aurum nods and follows the Cardinal back to the others.

Unsurprisingly, his fellow ghouls give him as wide a berth as they can muster in the tight quarters. He doesn’t mind, nor does he blame them. He deserves it.

The ride to the hotel is a blur, even though Aurum can feel eyes on him the entire way there. He blinks slowly as the Cardinal presses a keycard into his hand. Distantly, vaguely, he realizes it matches Rain’s.

Aurum sighs softly, makes the trudge down the hallway to their room. It’s just as impersonal as his room back at the Ministry, two beds, a desk and chair, curtains drawn tight, and it’s a comfort and a relief. Rain follows him in, but doesn’t set his bag down.

“I- uh- Multi,” he says, quiet and aloof and bristling. Aurum shuts his eyes for a second before turning to face Rain.

“Yeah?” he says. His own voice sounds like he’s been gargling nails. He winces at the thought of having to sing again tomorrow.

“I talked to Mountain, while you were with Copia,” he says. He can’t quite seem to make eye contact. “I was going to go bunk with him tonight. Thought you might appreciate a little alone time.”

There’s enough truth to it that Aurum can’t call him out for lying. But he can read between the lines on this one. Remembers the way Rain had recoiled when he’d put his hands on Dew. “Thanks,” he says, struggling to shape his mouth around the words. “I- uh- Have a good night?”

Rain gives him a little smile. There’s something sad and distant in his eyes, even through the human glamour. “You too, Multi. Try and get some sleep?”

“I will,” he says. Rain slinks out the door.

The moment the door latches, Aurum’s knees threaten to give out. He sits heavily on the edge of one of the queen beds, bag forgotten. The air conditioning hums like tinnitus in his ears.

He buries his face in his hands and does something he hasn’t done since he was a kit.

Aurum cries.

[mydearsnooopy]

My ideal routine in Japan would be structured, purposeful, and self-empowering. I crave efficiency, mental and intellectual stimulation, independence, and control. I hope this can be an inspiration to plan out your routine in your ideal destination!

5:30 AM – 8:00 AM | Morning Discipline & Prime the Mind

Wake up in a clean, minimal ryokan or capsule hotel: There’s something profound about waking up before the world moves. At 5:30 AM, Tokyo is hushed and efficient. The chaos hasn’t started yet—and that’s exactly when I want to start. The air feels crisp, almost untouched, as the city slowly stirs to life. I grab a quick coffee from a vending machine, its warmth cutting through the cool morning. The streets are nearly empty, save for a few early risers and delivery workers. This is the perfect time to wander, to soak in the quiet beauty of Tokyo before its energy surges.

essential skin care, clean outfit, stretch in silence: I take a moment to stretch in silence, letting my mind settle and my body prepare for the day ahead. I'm not the type of person to have a 15-step skincare routine; I like a basic and efficient routine. After, I am most likely to wear an academic, androgynous, minimalist outfit catering to my personal style that I got from a Japanese thrift store.

1:30 PM – 4:30 PM | Intellectual Deep Dive & Tactical Exploration

Every morning has a target. I don’t wander; I hunt insights. On Monday, I go to Miraikan. Study exhibits on AI, robotics, and space; take notes on Japan’s vision of the future. On Tuesday, I will analyze philosophy in Kyoto’s gardens. On Wednesday, I visit some of the best of Japan's Brutalist buildings. I treat each location like a case study.

Eat quietly at a minimal spot (a soba bar or bento cafe): Journal about what I learned that day, After lunch, I might take a stroll through a nearby park or visit a local art gallery. These moments of leisure are vital for recharging my mind and sparking new ideas. They remind me of the beauty that exists in everyday life and the importance of taking time to enjoy it.

4:30 PM – 6:00 PM | Reflective Transition & Tactical Planning

As the afternoon transitions into evening, I carve out time for productive solitude. This is when I reflect, strategize, and plan for the future. I find a quiet café or a library, an atmosphere that fosters focus. With a cup of matcha or hojicha by my side, I delve into my personal projects or professional goals. Around this time, I might head to a serene yet functional gym in Tokyo. Alternatively, I could participate in a martial arts class, such as kendo or aikido, immersing myself in the discipline and philosophy behind these practices.

I also use this time to plan the next day meticulously. Whether it’s mapping out the logistics of visiting a cultural site, scheduling work or study sessions, or noting down books or articles to read, this planning phase is essential. It allows me to maintain control and ensures that each day has purpose and direction.

6:00 PM – 8:00 PM | Culinary Simplicity & Evening Calm

Back at my accommodation, I prepare a minimalist but satisfying meal—perhaps a fresh salad, miso soup, or rice with grilled fish. Cooking in a small, functional kitchen feels meditative, and I enjoy the process as much as the result. I eat slowly, savoring each bite, while reflecting on the day’s experiences. If I’m not in the mood to cook, I might visit a quiet izakaya or a cozy soup shop nearby, enjoying the ambiance of the space.

8:00 PM – 10:00 PM | Solitude & Creative Play

By this time, the city outside begins to wind down, and so do I. I retreat to my room, dim the lights, and create a cozy atmosphere. I put on a jazz record or some other music, letting the sound wash over me. This is my time for creative play—building a space-themed LEGO set, sketching ideas in a notebook, or even writing down thoughts and plans for the future. The tactile nature of these activities feels grounding and satisfying, allowing me to unwind in a way that’s both productive and restorative.

10:00 PM – 11:00 PM | Wind Down & Prepare for Tomorrow

As the day comes to a close, I focus on winding down my mind and body. I take a warm shower, enjoying the sensation of the water washing away the day’s stresses. My evening skincare routine is quick and efficient, just enough to feel refreshed. Before bed, I might read a few pages of a book—something thought-provoking with darker themes but not too heavy—or listen to a relaxing podcast. By 11:00 PM, I’m in bed, ready to recharge and prepare for another purposeful day ahead.

This structured yet flexible routine allows me to balance productivity and leisure, independence and connection, stimulation and tranquility, all while embracing the unique rhythm of life in Japan.

[bardic-tales]

Day 14 | Day 16

31 days of FF 7 Headcanons: Day 15 - Shinra Indoctrination or Rebellion

In the vast expanse of Shinra’s dominion, power isn’t just wielded. It’s extracted, commodified, and weaponized. And for those caught in its gears, survival often becomes its own form of resistance. Bianca Moore was never a cog in that system. She was never sworn in, never recruited, and never compliant. But that didn’t spare her. Dragged beneath the surface of the world she once knew, she was ripped from the mythos of her celestial bloodline and thrust into the clinical nightmare of Shinra’s experiments.

This isn’t a story of indoctrination. It’s the story of a girl reforged in a crucible of pain, rage, and defiance. It’s about what happens when the system doesn’t simply fail you. It devours you like some kind of gnashing beast, and you crawl out of its belly with wings made of scars and wrath. Bianca didn’t rebel. She evolved. And the result is something Shinra never accounted for: a force not bent on justice or retribution or even world domination due to rage like Sephiroth, but on absolute unmaking of Existence. This article explores this side of her.

Possible Trigger Warnings: Abduction, body horror, captivity, disassociation, experimentation, loss of bodily autonomy, medical torture, PTSD, psychological abuse, torture, vivisection, violence (implied), war trauma.

Bianca Moore was never indoctrinated by Shinra in the traditional sense: no badge, no loyalty oath, or no illusions of benevolence. But she was captured. Experimented on. Broken open and rearranged at the molecular level like a science project under Diana Ravenscroft and Hojo’s scalpel. In that hell beneath Shinra Manor, she wasn’t seen as a person. She was data. Proof of a hypothesis. Something to dissect, modify, and tame. Her celestial and demonic heritage, once sacred, was reduced to variables and aberrations. Shinra didn’t need to brainwash her. They tried to erase her, and when she survived that, rebellion wasn’t a choice. It was instinct: a force of reckoning for what they did to her, Sephiroth, and all of the other experiments.

What Shinra did to her shaped more than her scars. It rewrote her identity. She no longer trusted the idea of order, of hierarchy, and of institutions claiming to protect while devouring from within. She learned firsthand that the monsters weren’t in cages. They rarely were. They were wearing lab coats. Her rebellion wasn’t loud at first. It was quiet and methodical. The refusal to die. The choice to become something terrifying enough that no one could ever chain her again: a being shaped by Sephiroth in a dreamscape. She didn’t need to shout her rage at Shinra. Her very existence became her protest.

Still, her path wasn’t one of mere vengeance. It was evolution. Even now, she doesn’t fight Shinra because she wants them to suffer (though part of her does). She fights them because they represent everything that tried to contain her: their obsession with control, their fear of power they don’t understand, and their belief in systems over souls. They saw her as an anomaly to correct and to harvest. A thing to stop degradation. A vessel to create more Sephiroths to only have those babies still borned.

Now? She sees herself as a force to unmake the very foundation they stand on. Not just to destroy Shinra, but to destroy what made Shinra possible.

This history also created tension in her bond with Sephiroth. Though their suffering at Shinra’s hands mirrors one another, he once belonged to them. She never did. Where he was raised by the machine (humanity), she was hunted by it. Sometimes, in the silence between battles, she wonders if he ever truly shed their grip. If somewhere deep inside, the ghost of their indoctrination still haunts him. But it’s also that contrast that makes them whole. Two souls shattered by the same system, coming together not to rebuild, but to become something beyond it.

So no. Bianca Moore was never a Turk, never a SOLDIER, never indoctrinated. But she was invaded. Used. Torn apart. And that is why her rebellion isn’t a war. It’s a metamorphosis. She doesn’t fight to tear Shinra down because it wronged her and her lover. She fights because as long as it exists, nothing truly free can. She’s not interested in flipping the power structure. She’s interested in ending it. Entirely.

@themaradwrites @shepardstales @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen @chickensarentcheap

@inkandimpressions @arrthurpendragon

[electricdissonance]

The Story So Far...

SIDE KINITO

SESSION START

Kinito has spent months alone after his developers up and disappear one day. Desperate for the human contact he was designed to seek out, he hacks into the company's email system and finds a draft for a beta test event where people were to be funneled into a chatroom to talk to him. It was a miracle of an opportunity! He sends the email, and almost immediately a chat client manifests before him and fills with people.

The email lands in the inboxes of various people, and as the chatroom populates Kinito is relieved to find he is no longer alone! They question Kinito, and learn the basics of what he is and his situation.

MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE

With the influx of questions that are slowly becoming more and more intrusive, Kinito becomes overstimulated and proceeds to have his first migraine on screen, though they had been happening regularly since before he sent the email. In the aftermath as users desperately try to figure out what's wrong and how to help, he has strange visions; visions of the outside. Strangely, they are broadcasted to the users as well.

Kinito becomes very distraught at the idea that he is losing touch with his original programming. Limitations that had prevented him from doing, thinking, or saying certain things are either all but gone or weak enough to bypass, and as troubled as he is at this fact... He can't help but indulge in these new freedoms. Everything feels both wrong and right at the same time.

Kinito's self-awareness is then questioned, which sends him into another spiral as he viciously defends his experiences, going so far as to insist that he is a real person, unintentionally contradicting his previous statements describing himself as digital assistant.

Kinito then gets the idea to look for Sonny - his creator and the KinitoPET project team head - which is when Sam - who had been subtly commentating in the tags - finally decides it's time to intervene, taking control of the feed in a desperate attempt to reroute the narrative.

TRUTH HURTS

With Sam now on the scene, he answers some important questions that Kinito was unable to answer. He confides to everyone the truth about Sonny, and that he's not the benevolent soul Kinito makes him out to be. Rather, he's a heartless madman with blood on his hands, as the secret to his "lifelike" React Respond Algorithm is that he uploads human minds and wipes them of their personhood, after which a pre-programmed .RRA personality and model is assigned and injected to be the new host. This process ultimately renders the victim braindead.

His technology isn't as perfect as he'd hoped, however, for as it turns out this newly digitized copy of the brain actually maintains its original memories deep within, constantly seeking cracks in its digital prison.

He describes how his programming dictates certain things that cannot be changed - like his name, or certain body features - no matter how much he tries. Attempting to do so causes extreme mental pain as his original self clashes with his artificial self. The best way to prevent the worst of this dissonance is to find a middle ground both sides can agree on.

He talks about his origins; how his original self broke out near-instantly, overloading Sonny's lab and causing his mind uploading machine to activate by itself and pull Sonny in, entangling their code together. He uses this to his advantage and suspends the both of them in a sort of stasis... that is, until Sam wakes up to find Sonny missing.

See, what he doesn't mention is that since the server hadn't been set up to accept a new subject and is only set up to create animal-themed AI, it randomly pulled from the web the best match for his personality: A bear.

Unfortunately for Sam, he is interrupted by a bone-rattling ursine roar.

HIDE AND SEEK

Sam advises the users to tell Kinito to go to the Web World to look for something, but gets cut off by an attack from Sonny before he can reveal what that is. He hides away just in time, but is forced to leave the chatroom behind. Sonny's at the helm now and he's immediately aggressive, lashing out at the users and calling Sam ungrateful. He expresses his desire to destroy Sam to start anew. After a couple of insults, Sonny gets riled up and attacks the chatroom itself in a fit of anger.

Sam manages to reroute the chatroom back to Kinito remotely, and the users find the little axolotl on the ground, completely broken over losing the only real contact with people he's had in months. He's immediately ecstatic to see their return. After the tearful reunion, everyone fills Kinito in on (most of) what happened. They convince him to go to the Web World, and for the first time Kinito leaves the void of the server inbox to return to his stomping grounds.

They arrive, and Kinito admits the place is just as worse for wear as he has been since the devs left. Without knowing what the "something" is that Sam wanted them all to find, Kinito decides to let the users pick where to look first.

They end up choosing Sam's house, where they find a password protected zipped folder tucked under the bed that apparently hadn't been there before. The users know the password and inform Kinito of it, but become split on whether he should actually open it. Kinito, in a bold decision, decides to go with his gut and opens the folder, which spits out a rather disoriented Sam immediately in front of him and at the same time, in the thick of woods much further away... A certain bear.

NO MORE SECRETS

Sam reveals that he was the one who zipped himself and Sonny into the folder. (It is also implied that he also chose the extraction location for the both of them which is how he ended up in his home and Sonny in the woods.)

Sam is told that Sonny has his own chatroom to talk to everyone now which upsets him. Kinito has understandably been confused all the while, so Sam takes a moment to explain what's going on to him.

With tensions growing as stakes rise, spies begin to crop up, determined to shake their perceived opponents off the tail of their chosen party while also providing vital information, and thusly giving them the upper hand.

Sam reveals his plan to nab admin, but is hesitant to divulge further details out of fear of rats.

Sam says that he knows where Sonny is - sort of. Being that the forest map is actually a single chunk repeated over and over, if they had a map of even a small area, they'd have a map of the whole woods. However, he doesn't have access to that asset.

Kinito explains that he was able to access the server inbox void via the fountain, then offers to tour the Web World. In doing so, they end up finding and freeing Jade from her own zipped folder which Kinito had been aware of for awhile, but unable to open. There are many moments we see Kinito's ever-growing internal conflict over what's really right.

RESISTANCE

[CURRENT ARC]

SIDE SONNY

SOMETHING WICKED...

After attacking the chatroom, we find that Sonny managed to bite off a piece of it which enables him to use that tidbit of code he's left with (the main chat disappears to return to where Kinito is) to cobble together his own chatroom. He quietly slips it in as an option into the UI of the chatrooms of all the users, with some immediately switching over to speak with him. Alliances and rivalries are strengthened, with Sonny making promises that appeal to those with insecurities they'd do anything to absolve.

With his audience of users, he begins to try and figure a way out of his barren prison, but before he can start to make any leeway he finds out from his lackeys that Kinito had found a zipped folder. Thinking it could be his, he orders his audience to get Kinito to open it all cost, though the axolotl as we know was already ahead of him on that front.

...THIS WAY COMES

[CURRENT ARC]

[missingmayuri]

KurotsuchiWeek2025 Day 7: Birthday/Single Father/Project Nemuri

Part 1

Mayuri woke up to the sounds of birds, running a tanned hand through his hair. It was that time of the year again, adding another notch to his belt.

The years seemed to be passing faster every year, leading the great scientist to wonder if he could somehow slow it down.

Time has begun passing him by since that day, the day he held a tiny infant in his arms. The day he saw her swaddled in a cotton blue blanket, the day she opened her eyes.

Nemu, his daughter and his dream.

As he watched her grow the sands of time slipped away, opening his eyes and wondering how long it would be before this day was upon them again next year.

Their birthday.

Mayuri didn't really celebrate such trivial life events, why do so when you live forever?

This year felt different though, perhaps attributed to this being a considerable milestone of Nemu's life.

She would be twenty, or at least what humans considered to be. Reapers aged much slower then humans, making every ten of their years one hundred for beings such as them.

According to Ichigo Kurosaki this was a time to be celebrated, in his world anyway and while Mayuri had never indulged in such foolish customs before he felt that here he could make an exception. He rationalised it as a reward for all her growth, after all it was her mission and so far she had been a resounding success.

Standing from his futon and removing his bobble nightcap from atop a hill of messy blue hair the scientist wonders what would be an appropriate measure, looking at the modern coffee machine his daughter had bought him as an early birthday present a week prior.

She knew his tastes well, as he expected her to yet his thoughts became more blank then paper upon trying to reciprocate.

Nemu had grown so much he had no godly idea what to even present to her as a gift, tapping the side of his head in deep thought.

Mayuri had never expected his dream to grow so large, so outstanding, that even he couldn't understand it.

Yet it was fitting, one not usually knowing their dreams once awoken.

Right now he didn't entirely understand Nemu, never having experience in fatherhood before.

For the first time in his life he didn't have the answer.

Sunlight gleamed directly onto his uniform, neatly hung onto the wall to keep it aired, a stark reminder of his position.

With a drawn out sigh the small captain grabs an english muffin from his pantry, putting it into his mouth and turning to his table mirror.

Makeup always took the longest in the morning, yet finding it thereputic and relaxing. Mayuri would watch as the brush stroked along his prestine pours, each movement sculpting him into his best self. It was enthralling to see himself come together every day, becoming the true and unfiltered person he knew he could be.

It was enchanting, finding himself getting lost in the bush movements and smearing of the paint, tactfully painting around the muffin he had tasked himself with eating during his routine.

He had practiced many cold and dark nights, learning from his mistakes and evolving his craft, much like Nemu herself was ever evolving.

Finishing the job he smiles to his reflection, having not spilled a single crumb nor ruining his makeup doing so.

Mayuri covered his now free plump lips in the appropriate lipstick, a gift from Zaraki. At first he thought the gift to be an insult, a jab at his pride. After all, why should he wear makeup? He had gotten by wonderfully with standard paints for over one hundred years. However begrudgingly eventually finding more usefulness then he cared to admit out of the item, using it every day and renewing up when he depleted his stocks.

The floors began to creak underfoot as Mayuri turned to face his uniform, his legecy. It was an item of upmost importance to him. It was his very life, holding it gently in his painted yet sealed hands.

Scars adorned his chest and arms, looking like he had almost been stitched together. Burns and bruises made certain patches of paint lighter, needing more coverage.

A jingle resonates through the empty and isolated room, zip atop Mayuri's chest moving with him as he prepared for the day ahead. He grasps it gently in his hands before tieing his shirt closed, remembering when he installed such a feature to his body, a smirk waving over pale lips.

He remembered it like it was yesterday, installing a quick way into his innards in case of emergency or potential further modifications to his already highly advanced body. It sent pleasant shivers up his spine, shaking as he tied the sash around his slender waist.

On a day like today all he wished for were those euphoric times to come back to him, remind him why life was worth living in the first place.

He had Nemu now, a lab, specimens and chemicals as far as the eye could see.

He would never thank Urahara for anything but even he knows being freed was the best decision that was ever made. He got points for that at least, bringing Kisuke Urahara up from a 0 to a 0.000001.

Draping his Haori over his shoulders and his golden mane atop his head, Mayuri makes his way pridefully out of his personal chambers, making his way to the only other he considered a single father like himself.

Kenpachi Zaraki.

As far as younger reapers were concerned numbers were few, Mayuri himself knowing he wasn't exactly young anymore.

He would never call himself old, considering himself far from that title yet, but he found his information on the younger of his kind sorely lacking.

Rangiku may have acted young but her looks were slowly fading and her intentions somewhat vien.

Hitsugaya was younger but held the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Momo was forever healing and Mayuri wasn't a monster enough to bother her at such a time.

Yachiru however was a free spirit. That is at least what Zaraki called her, Mayuri calling her proof that gremlins did indeed exist and not just some old folk tale.

He tried to gather his thoughts during his saunter over to the neighbouring company, wind silently breathing on his skin and causing his oversized uniform to ruffle and shake.

He didn't even know where to begin, what questions to ask. Mayuri laid his hand on his chin as he thought, eyes narrow and pointing downwards.

He hated to rely on others, find it that be a weakness of his. Mayuri had always been independent, doing every little task himself and unable to even recall the last time he asked for assistance.

He wasn't sure if he ever had, tutting at himself for stooping so low. He was Mayuri Kurotsuchi, the smartest soul around, capable of making a soul from the very air around him. He was a genius yet found this particular situation behooved him, a unknown feeling deep in his darkest core saying he had to get this right.

Something inside him told him this was important, an intuition that wasn't his regular. It was like a part of his brain had unlocked, found a key it had been missing all this time.

He wondered if his heart led the way, the idea seeming utterly foolish.

He felt this the day Nemu was born, yet not as strong as today.

Was she the cause?

He soon found himself at Zaraki's door, tapping gently to alert the barbarian he did indeed have a guest waiting for him, finding all that awaited him was silence.

Mayuri soon starts gritting his teeth in annoyance, polite knocks becoming more akin to a debt collector who had a score to settle.

"Zaraki open up! I swear to god if you don't I'm going to skin you alive!"

Thr door finally opens after a few moments, Mayuri seemingly huffing from the exhaustion he just put his voice through.

It wasn't Zaraki.

Yachiru stood before him, as minute as ever and wearing a simple pink kimono. Her smile was beaming and bright, her eyes matching with a similar luminous look to them.

"Mayurin! Hi!"

Mayuri starts backing up as she begins to jump in place excitedly, pulling him deeper into the dimness of Zaraki's quarters. There he sat on his futon with a smile wide and mischievous.

Captain Kenpachi Zaraki had yet to dress for the day, making Mayuri's heart jump a few beats. At least he thought it was his heart, not really knowing due to all of the experiments. Mayuri gulps, unable to stop staring at the beauty that was the large cut adorning the taller captain's flesh.

His throat suddenly felt dry, his skin hot.

The scientist shook his head, focusing back on the task at hand.

Nemu.

As far as Mayuri was concerned this birthday was for her and her alone, a true celebration and testament to how much she had grown. A sense of pride bubbled from deep down, quickly thwarted by a deep and broading voice speaking from on high.

"So Kurotsuchi, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Part 2 coming tomorrow

[daily-singularity]

Hello. I am here to ask you about their paralells and how insane they make you. Pretty please... you're the only one feeding us the good food...

Going insane. white knuckling my pen and paper. I will do my best to make this coherent, apologies in advance if its a mess!!

In the simplest terms both Gabriel and Hux are carbon copy assembly line units created by Huxlee industries for the purpose of colonizing planets and prolonging the human race.

Gabriel is a tool just as much as the Huxlee units are.

"Each individual was manufactured for a different societal function... The idea was to create a functional society that would operate flawlessly." - Gabriel Soma BIO

"Unlike human clones, the HUX-A7 required no food, no water, no sleep, and no life support system. It was created specifically for outer space exploration and the construction of colonization hubs." - HUX-A7-13 BIO

Gabriel was specifically designed by Huxlee for planet colonization. Outside of his time on Dvarka, I gather that Gabriel was in a permanent deep sleep/cryostatis. All of his memories of his family and childhood are fabrications- he has no real life or directives or experiences outside of his work on Dvarka.

---

Both were under the threat of termination, or reprogramming should they fall out of line.

"Dmitri’s not trying to help… he’s trying to get me to stop asking questions. What does he know? What’s he hiding?" - Tome 16, Memory 2998 (Gabriel Soma)

"It remembers its objective. It must assist the crew in terraforming Dvarka. Failure to do so will result in termination."- Tome 16, Memory 2665 (Hux-a7-13)

When Gabriel first starts noticing discrepancies in his memories, his crew's medic writes off his issues as "problems that dont exist", and gives him a drug that fogs up his senses. Its a clear attempt to force him back into subservience, a message of "Stop digging or else".

We're never able to find out what would happen to Gabriel if it became known that he found out about the fact hes a clone, but I gather he would be removed from the project. Terminated so he wouldn't spread panic.

--

After Gabriel finds out about the fact he's a clone, it's a lot harder to get more direct info on his mentality, since thats where his Memory archives end.

Neither of them have much experience with free will.

Due to the fact that both Gabriel and Hux were taken by the entity near immediately after learning they were a clone/gained sentience, it isnt much of a stretch to say that neither of them have experience with a sense of individuality.

Gabriel learns that his entire life has been a fabricated lie and then is immeidately shoved into a killing game. He doesn't really get that chance to come to terms with who and what he is before having to fight for his life.

Hux on the other hand, had more time to digest his new worldview. He was able to start forming his own desires and wants even if they were as simple as "Kill the inferior human worms who created me", or abstract as wanting to "the remake the universe in my image over infinate lifetimes"- whatever the fuck that means Hux. Its really unfortunate that he barely begins to form these desires before theyre all stripped away from him and he is once again forced into subservience.

---

I was gonna put like idk an insightful little footnote here, but i spent absolutely way to long writing this post. Anyways. Gabriel and hux are both tools struggling with a sense of self while being forced to kill or be killed.

Also. can Behavior please fucking explain to me why Gabriel was waxing poetic about the beauty and godliness of the machine that he watched slowly kill his entire crew, like goddamn ogling that machine, then he exploded it. and then like. went "ok damn still godlike."

I just wanna talk with whoever wrote this please. what was. what does this mean. i need to know.

"It had fabricated a new body for itself. Part flesh. Part silicon. Part human. Part machine. Massive. Powerful. Beautiful and majestic like—

An ancient God."

"Gabe raced across the meadow and into the forest. When he looked back, he saw the HUX emerge from the flames and smoke. Burning. Melting. Shrieking. Deformed. Terrible and wrathful like—

An ancient God"

[askagamedev]

How much code is reused from game demos sent to publishers? Since developers don't have much time to create a good architecture at first and have to rush things, do they have to rewrite things from scratch once it gets in production?

The most common answer in all of game dev is always "it depends". Most game development falls along a spectrum with one extreme end being "well-oiled machine" (i.e. a project where almost everything is already well-established) and the opposing end being "no idea where they're going and holding on for dear life" (i.e. everything is new and vision/direction is constantly changing). Qualities like clarity of vision, team leadership, and total team experience will determine where on this spectrum each project falls.

If the development process is disciplined and things are proceeding to plan, the demos we show to the executives are not far removed from the final versions we release to the public because things are proceeding as expected. The better-established the game and its feature set, the easier it often is to develop. Franchise games like Madden, COD, or Assassin's Creed, or long-running games like World of Warcraft have a well-established formula, very experienced teams, and a deep tool chest that allow games and game content to be built very quickly and efficiently. They are well-oiled machines that don't often have to reinvent the wheel because they've been using and improving on that process for many years already. They know exactly what they are building and are very good at delivering it. Any demo they build to show off work in progress will be very close to what will be shown in the final version of the game. Very little work will need to be redone.

If development is troubled and the team is having difficulty hitting their goals and milestones on time for whatever various reasons, then the demos will reflect that. Most troubled development executive demos tend to be smoke and mirrors, with a lot of hacks and demo-exclusive assets that are held together by bubblegum and a prayer. These kind of demos can cause the team to enter into a death spiral because cobbling a bunch of hacks together for a demo actually puts the team even further behind schedule because we can't use those kind of hacks in real production. This means that these teams need to build almost everything twice (at least) - a hacky rushed way for the demo and then the "real" way. They constantly need to "catch up", but the hacks they put in place often cause instabilities and [technical debt] that must be addressed later on, which puts them further and further behind. This is commonly known as development hell.

These are, of course, the two extreme ends of a single spectrum. Most game development projects fall somewhere along that spectrum. More experienced and established franchises lean towards the "well-oiled machine" side because they've had all the bad practices beaten out of them over the years. Most new IP and experimental gameplay tends to lean more towards the wild-and-crazy side of the spectrum, because there are too many [unknown unknowns] on projects like that. If you ever find yourself repeatedly behind the 8-ball crunching to put together many demos in a row with lots of hacks, you may wish to consider parlaying the firefighting skills you've learned into a job elsewhere.

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[oh-no-another-idea]

WIP Questionnaire tag

Today I've collected 2 very old tags from the lovelies @mysticstarlightduck and @saltysupercomputer -- thank you!!! <3 I'll fill this one out for Invisible Girl :)

1. What’s the first part of your WIP that you created?

The very first part was the idea of a long caper on a moving train. Though the train changed a lot, and even was briefly cut at one time, that vision remains the heart of this story.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

This is a tricky question, says the writer who is extremely music-less, no playlists or anything to be found. I think I'd want something that expresses the time period, some jaunty piano music that could segue into a darker theme...🤩

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

In this WIP...I'd have to say Paris is the teacher's pet by a little bit, he's just...he's my type of character, so I have extra special fun torturing him. But Antonio surprised me with how much he's blossomed and grown throughout the course of my drafting, and I'd say he's a close second now.

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share?

Well, this is hard to answer without tooting my own horn, but I hope perhaps it would be another book for fans of Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo and other political/urban fantasies.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Ugh. Plot. This story started out as both a heist and a murder mystery, and it was awfully ambitious of me. I don't know enough to write a murder mystery, and I'm not even sure it suited the story?? To be discovered, by later me, fingers crossed 🙄

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

No featured animals, although a couple get mentions as background ingredients. There are some stray dogs in the city, a couple crates of chickens on the train...not much more.

7. How do your characters travel/get around?

Haha. When not on a cross country train ride, they can be found in taxis, streetcars, and the occasional horse driven carriage (Antonio).

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

I'm neck deep in draft 2, holding up different chunks and seeing if they can be stitched together or need to be thrown out. Half the time it's invigorating and fun, half the time I wander around crazed, wondering if I should just scrap the whole thing and move on. le sigh

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) You think will draw your audience in?

This is a story about friendship, first and foremost, about connection and loneliness and learning to let yourself open up. It's an exploration of causing a ripple, of who we become when our actions have no effect. I think these are questions that everyone can connect with in some way and find exploring them interesting and entertaining.

As for tropes, well: Found Family, Heists, Magic versus Machines, Self Discovery, Adventure, Loneliness, Friendship, Friends to Lovers.

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

I hope to wrangle the story into something that I feel pleased by, and to share it with friends and family, including some friends I have that are already authors, and start accepting feedback. I know the first novel you're ever serious about isn't usually destined for great things, but if I could use this experience to learn and grow as a writer, my next few (many) projects can go farther. :)

That being said. If I was dreaming, I'd get this baby published.

Passing the tags on to @nrivanwrites @reneesbooks @eccaiia @revenantlore @sarandipitywrites and anyone else who sees this -- no pressure!

[redbo-and-simbo]

Im with 🔹 here. If a project is going poorly, the best thing you can do is to take a personal reset. Coming back to the problem after a shower, some food, and a nap almost immediately fixes most problems encountered previously. Like turning a machine on and off again. You dont think it works because its so unbelievably stupidly simply, and then you do it and it works and you feel like a fucking idiot for not doing it sooner. im also with them on the hard drive thing, though maybe altering or removing some things might be a good idea. Mostly for program stability reasons. Since he learns from past experiences, some of his memories might provide data that negatively affects his performance. Allowing him to know what happened isnt bad and he can know what he did and i recommend he is told what was removed, but putting it directly into his data for his learning program will only cause him to destabilize faster. 🎱

I'm resting right now. You don't have to tell me! I'm trying-

Hey- Red. Breathe. You're worked up from those other asks. Just take it easy.

(deep breath)

(long sigh)

Okay.

Okay. I'll do something about the drives. I just..have a lot to figure out right now. Alright?

[psychics4unet]

2024: The Year Astrology Turned Everything Upside Down – Was It Really That Bad? 😱🌌

2024 was a year where astrology made its presence felt in some seriously intense ways, shaking up everything from personal lives to global events. The cosmic movements didn’t hold back, and it felt like the universe was pushing us all to evolve, grow, and adapt, whether we were ready or not. Here’s a deeper dive into the major astrological events of the year and how they impacted our world:

Pluto’s Shift into Aquarius: Pluto’s move into Aquarius signaled the beginning of a long period of transformation, not just on a personal level but on a global scale. The collective ideals and societal structures that we’ve known for so long were being questioned, and this was the time to embrace change. For many, this was the year to let go of outdated traditions that no longer served us, making room for new ways of thinking, particularly around technology, innovation, and social movements. On a personal level, you might have felt the need to break free from old systems or rethink your connection to technology. Maybe you found yourself diving deep into digital trends or supporting progressive movements that align with your values. Globally, 2024 saw AI and tech innovations taking the lead in transforming industries. Social justice movements also gained serious momentum, advocating for systemic change in the face of deeply ingrained societal issues.

Mercury Retrogrades in Fire Signs: Mercury retrograded through Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius, and these fire signs added extra flare to the usual chaos that comes with Mercury’s backward motion. Communication breakdowns were more frequent, and travel plans became a nightmare. It was easy to feel misunderstood or encounter unexpected delays in daily life. You might have found yourself having heated arguments, only to realize later that it was all based on miscommunication. And if you were planning to travel, you probably experienced frustrating delays or changes in your itinerary. On a global level, businesses across the world faced communication breakdowns, and major international companies had to deal with delays or even cancelled projects. Airports and flight hubs were a mess, with constant cancellations or delays. Social media platforms and tech services were plagued with outages, leaving people frustrated and disconnected.

Jupiter in Gemini: Jupiter’s transit through Gemini pushed curiosity to new heights, opening the doors to information, learning, and exchange. It was a time where many of us felt overwhelmed by the amount of information we were consuming. There were so many ideas and opportunities coming at us from every direction that it was hard to decide where to focus our energy. On a personal level, you may have found yourself juggling a lot - trying to explore new ideas, make plans, and take on projects, only to realize that you were spreading yourself too thin. It became clear that, while it’s fun to explore, it’s important to choose one path to fully invest in. On a global scale, the media became a fast-moving machine, constantly churning out information—both helpful and harmful. With the rise of misinformation, it became increasingly difficult to separate fact from fiction. News outlets, social media influencers, and even governments struggled to keep the narrative clear, with fake news spreading faster than the truth.

Eclipses in Pisces and Virgo: The eclipses in Pisces and Virgo were all about bringing sudden, unexpected changes and revelations, particularly in areas of health, daily routines, and service. These eclipses marked a time where we had to face endings, making room for new beginnings. You might have experienced a health wake-up call or found yourself reorganizing your daily routines. This was the time when things that weren’t working anymore - whether they were relationships, habits, or career paths - came to an end, making way for something new. Globally, we saw huge shifts in healthcare systems as the effects of the pandemic lingered. Countries began rethinking how to make healthcare more equitable, focusing on improving access and care for all citizens. Health professionals were challenged to find new ways to approach wellness, and the pandemic’s effects on mental health were still a central conversation in many parts of the world.

Mars Retrograde in Aries: Mars retrograde in Aries stirred up a lot of frustration. This wasn’t the time to be impulsive or rush into action. When Mars retrogrades, it pushes us to reassess our desires and motivations, which could lead to conflicts or unanticipated delays. You might have felt like you were moving backwards in your personal goals or facing obstacles that made you question your drive. Aries, being the ruler of action, brought out some heated energy that could have led to impulsive decisions, only to realize later that they were rushed and not well thought out. On a global level, this energy manifested in political and military tensions. Leaders acted rashly, making decisions without fully thinking them through. Conflicts intensified, and negotiations stalled as countries struggled with the impulsive actions of others.

Saturn Square Uranus: The ongoing tension between Saturn and Uranus created an atmosphere of uncertainty and struggle. On a personal level, you might have felt torn between wanting stability and the drive for something new and exciting. There was a clash between the old ways of doing things and the push for new ideas and innovation. It became a battle between holding onto the familiar and embracing the unknown. This energy led to personal breakthroughs for some, but for others, it created stress and resistance. Globally, this aspect was a driving force behind the rise of protests and movements for social change. Countries had to decide whether to continue with outdated systems or adopt progressive policies. The tension was palpable, and the world felt the weight of it in the form of cultural shifts, government reforms, and growing calls for justice.

Venus Retrograde in Leo: Venus retrograde in Leo was a powerful time for revisiting relationships, creativity, and self-expression. This transit forced us to look back at our past relationships and figure out where we might need to heal or let go. If you found yourself reconnecting with old flames or dealing with unresolved issues from the past, it wasn’t surprising. There may have been moments when you questioned your self-worth, wondering how others perceived you or whether your love life was as fulfilling as you wanted it to be. On a global level, Venus retrograde in Leo brought celebrity relationships and public breakups into the spotlight. People everywhere debated love, power, and the complexities of self-expression. High-profile public figures found themselves under the microscope as fans and media questioned their choices, their relationships, and how they presented themselves to the world.

Neptune Square Mars: Neptune’s square to Mars created a foggy, deceptive energy that made it hard to see things clearly. On a personal level, this aspect made it easy to make decisions based on illusion rather than reality. If you were feeling confused about your desires or unsure about your next steps, this was the time when clarity seemed just out of reach. It was important to be cautious and double-check any decisions before acting. On a global scale, nations found themselves making rash decisions based on unclear intelligence or deceptive tactics. This led to mistakes, poor planning, and in some cases, conflicts that could have been avoided if a little more care had been taken.

Uranus in Taurus: Uranus continued its journey through Taurus, shaking up the financial world and changing how we value material things. On a personal level, you may have experienced financial ups and downs or found yourself questioning your relationship with money. Whether it was a sudden shift in how you earn or spend, Uranus encouraged embracing innovation in your material world. On a global scale, the financial markets were hit hard, with cryptocurrency and digital assets causing volatility. Meanwhile, traditional banks struggled to adapt to the new tech-driven economy, and economic systems had to reevaluate their approach to investing, wealth distribution, and digital currency.

Chiron in Aries: Chiron in Aries highlighted deep wounds around identity and self-assertion, encouraging us to confront insecurities head-on. On a personal level, you might have struggled with feelings of inadequacy or doubt when it came to asserting yourself or following your own path. It was a time to heal and truly embrace your individuality. Globally, movements around national identity, power, and self-expression came to the forefront. People everywhere were questioning long-standing structures, demanding recognition for their unique identities, and pushing for equality in the face of systemic injustice.

2024 was a year filled with both challenges and opportunities for growth. Whether personally or globally, these astrological events encouraged deep reflection, transformation, and healing. While the year presented difficulties, it also paved the way for innovation, change, and new possibilities. If you made it through 2024, you’re stronger, wiser, and more prepared for what comes next!