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fuckmycrane · 2 years ago

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Testing — Dr. Jonathan Crane.

— CW: 18+, smut, noncon! (DNI if uncomfortable 😴), fisting, slight spit kink, Crane using medical language? Rubber gloves! | word count: 2k!

— a/n: I don't know how to tag! This came to me before bed the other day. SUPER GRATEFUL AND FOREVER IN LOVE WITH @pictureinme for beta-reading this! I love you so much pookie 💌.

A shiver runs down your spine as Dr. Crane's camera on the tripod flashes red— an ominous light that warns your humiliation is being recorded.

Your legs are stretched out wide on the cold metal table, chained to the bars on each side, strains reserved for patients in the consulting room who refuse to be sedated. Reserved to those who will involve to be a problem to Dr. Crane, your boss. Hands above your head, your fingers curl around the wire he used to tie your wrists together. Too tight, it felt like a punishment. The blood circulation was slow, causing them to feel numb.

He had to improvise, the sedative he administrated in your morning coffee was a mild dose, enough to keep you knocked out for at least 40 minutes— enough for him to drag you to his private laboratory, undress you, and tie you up.

Reaching inside the pocket of his pristine lab coat, Crane brings the voice recorder to his mouth, clicking the thick button and twitching in excitement at the mute sound of the tapes rolling inside the device.

“October 14th, 2001,” He speaks, looking at you from behind his thin glasses. “Test subject is awake now, they appear to be responding normally. I will be monitoring them for the next few hours to ensure continued stability. Will report any significant changes in behavior immediately.”

Clicking the button again, Crane returns the recorder inside his pocket, approaching you with cautious steps— similar to a predator looming over its helpless, little prey; even his eyes hold that harpy gaze. Cold and relentless, your body shivers in fear. The same fear he thrives on, the same fear that makes his blood circulate and sends an excited beat to his heart.

Your mouth opens but before a sound comes out he raises her hand in a shutting motion, to which you surprisingly obey in response. “Don’t even try,” he warns you, reaching for a tiny box on the tall desk next to your bed. “This experiment is happening either way.”

Sliding the blue rubber glove over his right hand, Jonathan stretches it, letting it snap with a loud sound. His eyes never leave your face which is a remarkable show of professionalism, taking into consideration your lack of clothes, and the awkward, obscene position. Standing next to you, his index finger traces from your knee to your hip, relishing the way your body squirms uncomfortably. Grasping the recorder once more, he turns it on before leaving it next to the box where he retrieved the gloves from, returning his attention to you.

“Subject internally rejects light physical stimuli,” He repeats the action, going from knee to thigh over and over, the rubber sliding smoothly from the cold sweat of fear that grants your body a soft glow. “Their body appears to be affected by the fear and anxiety. Mild sweating, constant twitching.”

Crane’s finger ventures to the inside of your thigh, raising goosebumps on your skin. An eternity passes until he finally comes in contact with your mound, pressing it softly with his fingerpad. The uneasy pressure makes you choke a sob, a sob that isn’t acknowledged by the doctor. Lower, he begins to circle your clit in slow, methodical circles. The sensation makes your legs tense, instinctively try to close them but are not allowed to do so, thanks to the restraints. Crane watches you with an unamused expression, noticing how lost you are in distress to notice how his leg twitches slightly at the sight of such a pretty face denying the pleasure. The pressure over your clit increases but the pace stays the same, giving you a similar feeling of breathlessness and dizziness. He knows what he is doing, how couldn’t he? Such a brilliant mind, such skilled fingers… he knows.

Closing your eyes shut, your brain shortcuts for seconds, trying to reject the pleasure that Jonathan’s ministrations provide— you shouldn’t, succumbing isn’t an option. Tears silently trickle down your flushed cheeks, embarrassed by your own natural body response. The slick is slowly but surely building up in between your legs, and it’s just a matter of time for Crane to notice it. You wish you could scream, curse him, damn him, and send his soul to hell— but it’s difficult to even breathe. The confusing mix of fear and innate pleasure clouds your common sense.

“Patient is responding correctly to clitoral stimulation,” His deep voice snatches you from your internal battle, snapping your eyes open and finding those same blue eyes that you grew accustomed to, watching you as if you were a mere lab rat. “But, they appear to be having a moral conflict.”

Perhaps you are.

When he stops his circling over your clit, a sigh of relief escapes from your lips, but you are disgusted by the sting of disappointment that your body sends you; The ease doesn’t last long, as his finger slides between your folds, gathering the slick and bringing back to your clit briefly.

He inserts a finger, unhurriedly. He has all the time in the world— it is not like you are leaving anyway. Jonathan breaks the eye contact and focuses on opening you up carefully; It’s easy to read he is not doing it because he is scared of hurting you, it is because causing you pain in this state will lower his experiments. The pace of his digit mimics the one he created before, methodical. Everything about him appears premeditated. Curling his index finger, it takes him around eight seconds to locate your G-spot, rubbing it with expertise and ease; “It appears to be a considerable amount of lubrication,” He continues speaking to the recorder, speeding up his movements slightly. “Corporeal response is positive, the experiment is going as planned”

Planned. That word strikes a cord inside your hazy mind. So he already intended to do this.

A second finger joins, spreading you, but not in a painful way. In fact, the remorse falters, as the pleasure begins to build, strong and hopeless to avoid. Repeating the same curling motion, Jonathan’s hand twitches when he hears the first moan of the evening. It’s weak, but something like that will never go unnoticed.

“Patient is showing vocal responses after two fingers, vaginal stimulation is going as expected.”

A wave of heat starts to crumble the last bits of your will, he knows what he is doing— the bastard fucking knows. A new set of tears swell up in your eyes, falling without you doing much to stop them. A meek sob that breaks into a choked moan catches the doctor’s attention, his rosy lips curling into a wicked smile. This is probably the first time you had ever seen Crane smile. Your cunt and his fingers work together to create an obscene wet sound, smearing it all over your labia and printing it with fire and fear in your mind.

A third finger prods outside your aching hole, threatening; When it joins the party, that same stretch comes back— once again not uncomfortable.

“Three fingers have been inserted now,” Crane says, his voice faltering at the end of the sentence. “The patient shows no signs of pain nor discomfort”

Faster, his fingers are going faster now. Three fingers plugging in and out of you without any hint of mercy or consideration. You dare to bend your neck, a sick need to watch his hand invading you, only to find his hand soaked. Involuntary, your cunt clench around his fingers, something that also was noticed.

Expecting him to talk again to the voice recorder, only to encounter a quicker pace, your back arches, the cold laboratory bed suddenly too cold for the boiling temperature of your body. A cloud of guilty pleasure numbs your brain— unable to register the fourth finger peeking at your pussy.

The intrusion hurts, the current lubrication not enough to save the painful stretch. Jonathan notices this, an expert in reading body language; “In response to the fourth finger, the patient has experienced slight pain. After a quick thought, I have come to the conclusion that the rubber gloves inhibit the vagina lubrication to be sufficient.”

Removing your fingers from your cunt, you watch with half-lidded eyes how he practically rips the glove off his hand, almost frustrated. Returning his now bare fingers to your poor hole, a mewl escapes your lips when he returns three fingers, humming at the clear difference of sensations.

His fingers, his skin is a whole different sensation than the damn rubber. His pinky finger sneaks in again, but your pussy clenches, making the intrusion painful again. Crane huffs in annoyance, bending over and hovering over your crotch, gathering saliva in his mouth and spitting right in your pussy. The action, which perhaps holds strictly experimental intentions, is so perverted it makes your stomach flutter— erotic, that was erotic.

You find Dr. Crane spitting on your pussy erotic.

“Fucking finally,” he whispers.

In no time, and thanks to the skin-to-skin contact, the penetration is easier, for him at least. Four fingers slide in and out effortlessly, as your legs begin to shake, and the tight knot in your lower region threatens to snap.

“You are not allowed to come,'' his stern voice is like a fork scraping against a porcelain plate— dominant and authoritarian. “Hold it, or there will be consequences.”

The promise of a punishment for disobeying is even scarier than the possible consequences, causing you to nod and succumb to his wishes— although you don’t have much choice.

His other hand, which had been fidgeting around ever since his touch over your skin started, approaches your clit dangerously, pressing his thumb on the swollen nub, reminiscing of the circles he did an hour prior, this time tighter— faster.

His actions are lewd, definitely illegal— your noises are lewd, definitely unwilling. Your body thrashes over the metal, yanking the restraints with little success to lose them. The rational instinct screams at you to move, fight— but the overwhelming sensations act like a drug. His fingers curl in an odd position, and before you can react, his thumb slides in.

Fitting his whole hand inside your poor, stretched, wet hole.

He moves his hand slowly, testing the waters. This is the crucial part of the experiment, one false move and everything will be extremely painful to you.

Torturing your clit, Jonathan uses the lubrication and his saliva to move his hand, keeping his fingers straight and still— ignoring the uncomfortable erection straining against his slacks.

“The experiment has been a success. The patient has been able to fit my hand inside them. There are no signs of pain, discomfort, or physical rejection—” His voice shakes slightly, as if he was fighting to keep composure the same way you fought the pleasure that his unwanted touch gave you.

That's when the real thing begins.

Crane’s hand curls into a fist, making you moan louder. How can something so twisted feel so good? Lowering your watery gaze, the borderline pornographic view of being fucked by your boss’ fist sends you to a frenzied state. He keeps forcing his fist inside you, uncurling his finger lightly every now and then just to add a new sensation.

“Good…” He pants, biting his lower lip. “Come. You can come now.”

And you do. Oh, you do.

His hand assaults your pussy, stretching it beyond limits and giving you the most mind–blowing, earth–shattering, painful orgasm you had ever experienced in your life. Your clit burns from the rough treatment, and something whispers in the back of your drowning mind, that even if you manage to see the light of another day if Crane decided to let you go; you will never find something as pleasurable as what he just did.

To you. To your body. To your mind.

The realization, the crude reality— breaks the thin veil of lust. Crying, sobbing, screaming— the voice you seemed to have lost while he experimented with you finally came back.

Jonathan wipes his wet hand with his lab coat, reaching for the recorder. His black shoes click on the white tiles of the consultation room as he approaches the camera, clicking the «play» button off, the red light winking at you before disappearing.

Until next time.

Dr. Crane licks his lips, his cold blue eyes glistening with morbid excitement. His hand trembles when he brings the recorder to his lips, piercing your soul with those orbs just like he pierced your body and dignity with his fist.

“The experiment was a success.”

#— ✏️ anya writes!#— 💉Jonathan Crane!#jonathan crane x reader smut #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane dark smut #jonathan crane headcanon #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy smut

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eldritch-spouse · 11 months ago

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I reeeeaaaaaallllllyyyyy want a pumpkin cream pie if you get what I mean

I wanna IMPRRREGNATE THAT DULLAHAN!!

Can we imagine his firefly getting her hands on a spell that gives her, like, maybe artificial tentacle cocks or just 1 really big one for a limited amount of time, and she spends all that time fucking Patches and filling him up w cum

:3c

TW: Genital modifications; Egg-preg; Surprise sex; Feral mindset; Large insertions

You glance at yourself in the mirror.

This is certainly something...

You're not going to lie, being stuck inside of Patches' lab while he's attending to "urgent matters" on the other floors is probably toxic for you. Because you always end up touching things you shouldn't, messing with concoctions that probably aren't safe for humans, or reading incantations aloud. Speaking of that last one- Trying to read a paragraph from a book with a leathery cover and suckers on it was ill-advised.

In your humble defense, it looked like a Lovecraftian cliché, and the paragraph you tried to read was the only one that used an alphabet you could vaguely identify.

It's not as if the results were instantaneous. You let the words hang in the air, felt stupid, and simply closed the book, thinking nothing of it...

Only to end up squealing and tearing your own pants off when it felt like your pussy was being warped into a different dimension. You can't even describe the sensation! The panic of feeling like your very nethers were shrinking out of existence, leaving a Barbie-like void in their place, before something wet and gross erupted out of your pelvic zone, proudly installing itself there.

So there you stood, clad only in a shirt, hyperventilating at the sight of a purple-ish mass of tentacles where your regular mound would be. The things connect seamlessly to your skin, glossy and wriggling aimlessly. One of the trio seems to be the main attraction, thick and heavy between the legs of a species that likely isn't meant to carry something as... Endowed. The other two are much smaller, auxiliary almost, ridiculously futile adornments to something that is already capable of easily gaping someone.

Fascinating. You hope it's not permanent, you really do. Even then, maybe Patches knows how to reverse it, right?

To touch upon the thing was to receive a myriad of new sensations your brain wasn't quite ready for, struggling to find new pathways, until oh! It all sparks, and you feel. What it's like to have a cock? No, what it's like to have something so much more different than what a human would sport.

Marvelous...

Hands fumble for the best way to handle this new piece of anatomy. Slimy and wriggly as it is, when you try to handle it the same way you would a humanoid length, it doesn't provide that much satisfaction. Tentative experimentation proves -Ugh, you're starting to sound like him- that using both hands to create a shoddy imitation of a cavity is much more fruitful, providing sparks of potent sensation as the tentacle frantically tries to wriggle past the tight creases of your clasped fingers.

It's actually forcibly trying to squeeze into the gaps between your digits! And the worst part is that it feels good enough that you don't care to stop it.

It's secreting something, but you definitely didn't orgasm. Precum? No, it's... Gelatinous. A tingle spreads across the palms of your hands to the tips of your fingers, causing you to immediately pry them apart and shake it off- Onto the counters of your captor's already messy laboratory. It feels... Numbing?

This spell, whatever it is, grants the bearer a reproduction-oriented appendage, which is probably meant to pierce into someone's womb. It doesn't take much for you to guess that maybe, just maybe, it also deposits something inside. But it's not as if you can feel the presence of eggs within you. Everything about this set of anatomy is foreign to you, how would your poor brain recognize anything of the sort?

Just as you stand there half-naked, lightly tapping the appendages, the noise of a lock clicking open reaches your ears.

And with one inhale, it's as if time stops.

Inexplicably, you become hyper-aware of everything surrounding you. The noises of every little piece of machinery idly running, the growing creak of the door turning open, chatter from people that didn't leave the elevator far away.

Something compels you to turn, and you silently face the dullahan as he walks in, looking tired.

" It's the fourth time this week! I've told them eons ago that the pool bar needs safer- " He freezes. " Firefly? "

While you can't find it in you to move, or look anywhere else for that matter, Patches is clearly taking in your current state. He's nothing if not intelligent, eyelights surfing from your swirling genitals to the very book you've just misused.

It's not uncommon for him to come back to something amiss in his own lab, courtesy of your curiosity, but the undead is usually very quick to find a fix for the situation.

Not this time. He looks stumped, nervous. A bead of magical sweat runs down that gourd head and his carved smile crooks anxiously, gloved hands tentatively closing the door behind him. Patches maintains eye contact.

Although inwardly panicking, you can't help glaring into him, fixated, feeling the monster cock between your legs pulse hard.

There it is, your brain screams.

Hole.

Easy.

Warm.

Fuckmate.

You don't even notice you're drooling until the sound of your own saliva hitting the ground manifests.

Overshadowinging the mild concern on the magic caster's face is a lurid sort of wonder that seems to war with his common sense.

" F- Firefly... I need you to stay calm and still, okay? This- This is temporary, you're in an extremely volatile state a- and-... "

You rip your own shirt off. Your bra, everything. You can't stand anything against your bare skin, it's too much stimulus, too much heat.

He chokes a noise out. " That's fine, that's fine- You're overheating, I- I know-... I'm going to have to put you back in the cage now, okay? "

You don't respond, his gaze flickers to your tits for the briefest second, then your newfound cock. Patches shakes himself back to seriousness.

A silence so thick and so tense compresses your cranium, like a spring, counting down the seconds.

One step.

That's all he gets to do before you lunge.

With a force and drive you've never possessed before, your limbs race past desks and stacks of thingamajigs, tossing everything aside, uncaring of the bruises to later form as your body crashes against Patches'.

He screams, naturally, and the two of you fall to the ground, your nails sinking deep into his arms, holding them to his midsection as you sit on his torso and huff down at the dullahan.

There's a fog caressing your brain, a certain dimness taking over, hiding any and all higher thought and leaving behind only animal impulses you've never felt before.

The monster beneath you trembles slightly. And perhaps if you had more of a mind present, you'd know that Patches isn't helpless, he's never been, he just enjoys pretending to be.

" Ough... Firefly? "

What were you doing again...?

It throbs, sloppily playing against the undead's clothes.

Hole.

Frenzied, gluttonous, you start pushing and pulling at the undead's clothes, frantic and confused. Patches already has a habit of dressing in a weird manner -You'll excuse that on his age- But now more than ever, all you want to do is tear those fabrics away with the sharpened teeth you never had.

You're not getting anywhere, the frustration has you gnawing on his pant leg, shaking it like some kind of feral creature. At some point, you must have bitten his leg because he yelps.

Patches makes a noise, you're not too sure if it was a snort or some kind of garbled giggle, but he eventually mumbles some kind of request and begins fumbling with his own clothes, trembling thin digits struggling to catch the right parts. Excitement? Doubt? You don't care.

Faster- You want to yell at him, but the only thing that comes out is an exasperated groan.

The undead doesn't get to do much more than unzip himself before you're yanking his pants down, throwing them away while he scrambles to get the rest of his outfit off, before it can be ruined by your enthusiasm.

" I- Let's take this easy now- "

He's hard.

Good, that'll help. It's not what you want though.

Uncaring, your one-track mind ignores his useless blabbering and pulls him closer by those green legs, parting them as wide as his flexibility will allow- Granted, being undead gives him a certain pain tolerance and unnatural nimbleness you can appreciate.

Patches gasps, worriedly eyeing the thing between your legs and comparing it to his own body. The size of it... Enough to rearrange organs. Thankfully, he doesn't make use of most of them anymore.

" Firefly...? Earth to my- my flame- Look at me- Look at me... "

You do look at him, for about two seconds, before feeling your tentacle slap onto his pelvis. It writhes against his hard cock, offering the two of you some mockery of friction, the wet sensation causes his back to arch and the resulting noise makes something crackle in your brain, driving you just one step closer to mindless lust.

Wrapping around Patches' dick, it squeezes and prods for something that's not there, slithers past his balls and lands on his ass, squished between his skin, slicking it grossly. Instinctively, it finds its' goal, the ring of muscle that clenches as soon as a rounded tip flirts with it.

" Oh my Lord- "

You spread his legs wider, observing.

" Ah- Ahn- I never actually tested this one out- I suppose mmn- I should be taking notes? "

A frown settles on your face.

No, no this position won't do it.

" Where's... Where's my-? Ohn fuck that tingles- The recorder! "

Patches twists slightly to reach an object deposited on the nearby desk, it was just the motion you needed for an impromptu eureka.

As soon as undead fingers clasp a gray device, you flip him stomach-down on the floor.

" Huh- Oomf! " There's a clicking noise. He starts blabbering something or other, date, time, location, you aren't listening.

In fact, you're more preoccupied trying to get him to raise his ass and bend for you.

" Hh- Human specimen has interacted with Transmutation Grimoire number five, speci -Firefly I need you t- to slow down- Specifically the tantric incantation in chapter six and- And oh Gods- "

The irritating buzz of his stressed words is ceased when you growl and crash his head to the ground, keeping it there as you slot yourself behind the dullahan's ass, spare hand poising on a bare ass to spread him out.

" And although I cannot yet know the timing of this action, I can guarantee the phhhh- Oh- The physical effects have manifested as well as the expected lack of higher awareness and overwhelming urge to mate. I am- I'm currently... At the specimen's mercy. "

Mercy that you aren't willing to give.

Thrusting won't work, because even as your hips angle and roll, the tendril is too restless, not at all like the hardness of a human, slipping past the monster's hole every time. You have to somewhat clumsily guide that thin tip and keep it pressed there, preventing it from aimlessly twirling around.

Your struggling eventually proves fruitful, because as soon as that inexperienced tip forces its way past Patches' entrance, the rest stretches to accompany, unforgiving in its increasing growth.

You pant, open mouthed, muted moans and overheated exhales falling out your lips as your eyes nearly roll back from the wave of sensation raking across your brain. It doesn't leave room for anything else except the impulse to fuck. Anything to keep this ecstasy going.

The dullahan on the other hand, howls.

Maybe it was pain, maybe it was shock, the slick of the massive tendril might have helped the insertion, but truth of the matter is that you must have flipped his dormant stomach when you snapped your hips against his ass and bulldozed the rest of it into him.

Relief. Blessed relief. You hold onto the magic caster with all the strength in your body, legs around his and arms coiled over his chest as you use your weight to keep him pinned. A grossly primal visage reminiscent of wild animals in rut.

" Ohn Gods ahn ffuck- I can feel it everywhere hhhn- " He sounds incredulous, laughing breathlessly. "This is still recording...? Uh- "

Although the tendril stuffed inside Patches starts pistoning without input, instincts collide and you can't help thrusting along too, creating an erratic rhythm that eventually clicks into plunges so deep Patches starts crying like an overstimulated baby.

You don't have the mind to care, don't have the chance to see his face twisted in a depraved, tear-soaked mess as he blubbers and starts arching back into you, trying to cling to his nearby hat for dear life.

Not even five minutes ago he was standing and clothed, now he's getting the guts fucked out of him by his own human captive.

" I wish- I wish you'd fuhh -Fuck I'm cumming I'm cumming ghhn- I wish you'd fuck me this enthusiastically more often- "

It feels incredible, an endless stream of pleasure that strains your vocal chords, for you can't help but moan with every breath, especially when his walls clench down on you with intense force, over and over amidst relentless fucking- Perhaps if you could stop to think, you'd realize you've been forcing him to orgasm several times since this started.

But you can't.

You can't do anything except cry out and mechanically bounce him on monster cock, surpassing your own physical limitations for the sake of climbing to a climax that constantly teases you, ever so slightly out of reach.

At some point, you have the feral impulse to look down, this sick and crooked smile on a sweaty face as you get to watch that ridiculous girth stretch Patches repeatedly, a steady wet clap of sound following the hypnotizing view, overshadowing even your labored panting and the undead's garbled sniffling wails.

For some reason or another, he starts moving a little too much, manic with overstimulation, trying to hold onto anything that can help draw away from the way his ass must be burning and his brain fried with feedback too intense. His cock throbs uselessly between numbed legs, a dirty puddle of his own release beneath it, he's entirely spent and yet can't flag at all, body scorched and confused.

The moment he manages to wiggle forward a bit, a noise of beastial aggravation rips from your throat, and you claw him back to you with malice, one hand reaching beneath him to trap a neck that hardly matters to his survival, while the other reaches to hold his head in place once more, digits hooking into his sockets.

It works well enough, Patches is back to incoherent sobbing and limp beneath your punishing pace.

" Yeah, I found his nasty ass like this. " The waiter snorts, showing his phone to a couple of coworkers.

The break room nearly vibrates with laughter.

" His desire for humiliation knows no bounds. "

Nebul notes, watching the clip of you biting onto the dullahan's back and screaming in pleasure as another concerningly fat oval figure travels from the length of the tentacle attached to you and into the swollen figure of his half-conscious coworker.

" But I can appreciate the knowledge, I was wondering if that incantation could be marketable. "

" BwaHAHA- Do you think those things are alive?! Is gourd for brains going to be laying eggs around? " Vinnel snorts like a pig at his own joke.

" Chicken- " Sybastian giggles, waving his arms.

" UHUHU- Buk buk buk ba-gawk! The human got me preggers buk bawk bawk- "

The two of them have entertained themselves imitating chicken noises.

Gallon looks at his shroom coworker. " Do you think you could cook them? "

Morell viscerally grimaces. " Hell nah, ya fuckin' sicko- "

" Grimbly, send this to me. " Santi mumbles, avidly watching the sad display.

" Eww no, so you can jerk off to it?! "

" Ye- "

The elevator dings.

Not a single sound rings as they expect either Belo or Admin to step inside the room.

Instead, in shambles a disheveled and barely covered dullahan, exhausted, and looking heavily gravid.

Faces turn a variety of colors as everyone holds back any reaction.

Sybastian cackles so hard he spits the mimiclings out his mouth.

#Patches oc

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rna-world · 5 months ago

Text

LOTG REGION MAP

This is a map for all the regions (and some subregions) for LOTG, at least the ones that are important. The other areas are just even more cities and factories, with a lot of empty space in between.

REGION DESCS BELOW (its long)

Refinery [HF] Heavy Factory

A foul stench covers the facility. Monstrous factories filled with dangerous organisms filter through the earth for precious minerals. Even after their departure, their machines continued on, their crunching echoing through the walls.

Derelict Sprawls [DU] Derelict Urban

The one of the oldest remaining cities on the surface, many refused to abandon it to live atop the iterators, and simply fortified further. Though it seems to have not worked out for them.

Sub-region: Cathedral

A place of prayer and worship, those who came to the cathedrals sought some form of guidance. When Sixteenth Boundary Collapse was constructed, the cathedrals had been integrated into them.

Abandoned Rail [AR]

A rail station connecting Refinery and Sprawls, proving obsolete after the Lineside was constructed. Most of the station has sunk deep into the earth or been washed away by the rains.

Quiet Bay [QB]

The rain shadow caused by SBC’s can has left the skies of the bay rather calm. Some cycles are clear enough to see the neighboring iterator group on the horizon. Small temples dot the shores.

Arboreal Lineside [AL]

A commercial rail line, linking together the iterators separated by the mountains. Most of the rail remains above the clouds, undamaged by rain. Vultures and other aerial life have claimed it as their nesting grounds.

Tundra [CF] Cold Farms

A quiet, vast snowy plain. Early civilizations settled here long ago due to the dense rains and nearby lake. Though these early settlements were built over in favor of agricultural land, not all of it was completely destroyed. Grass eats away at the bricks, unveiling the past.

Evergreen Backlet [EB]

Across the temperate forests of plants is an urban sprawl blanketed in snow. Each building and complex towering and spreading like an invasive species, the greenery below struggling. Yet the further traveled from Thirteen Catastrophes, the steeper the climb becomes, and the more the rainfall begins to freeze to snow. Yet the suburbs still feel endless.

Swamped Peaks [SP]

Once a beautiful mountain range, now treated like a septic tank. The rainfall from the local iterator has turned the once untouched snow into a disgusting slurry. Mounds of strange biomass fill the caves, alongside terrible predators, conditioned by the cold.

Sub-region: Observatory

At the highest point lies the unfortunate remains of an astronomical research laboratory, far from the reaches of the iterator rains. However, it’s condition has since deteriorated, housed now by scavengers and whatever escaped the sewers.

The Sewers [BD] Biomass Dump

A labyrinth of musky tunnels and sumps spreads like roots through the range. A dangerous place, filled with discarded biomass, sticking to the walls in a thick film. One wrong step could lead you to being devoured by the writhing masses, or right into the rushing currents of what may not even be water anymore.

Glacier [SG] Superstructure Glacier

Living blocks stacked into towers higher than previously imagined, the alleys below uncomfortably squeezed together. Bridges between buildings, creating a canopy of sorts. Though, rather than the city being reclaimed by nature, it appears the iterator itself is reclaiming it.

Sub-region: House of Bows

Architecturally unimpressive compared to the Temple of Nexus or Council of Droplets, yet a wonder in its own way. Swarmers fill the vacant rooms, iterator biomass crammed in the corners, weaving between wall to wall. It’s difficult to tell where building ends, and creature begins.

Eroded Basin [NB] NPM Basin

Nine Purple Mountains was constructed within the basin in order to contain the water vapor and protect the Steppe and Scablands. The rainfall only further widened the basin, causing structural damage to the buildings and facilities above. Scrap, garbage, and rubble fills the basin below them now.

Dry Canyon [CA] Canyon Alley

The skeleton of a river, dried up from iterator activity. Many attempts at constructing railways and other settlements lie dead and abandoned. Though it remains one of the only safe routes from OOQT to NPM.

Scablands [WD] Wild Desert

The ground fractals and forms into scars in the earth, rocks scabbing the surface. Vibrant wildlife flourishing in little patches. Temples and sanctuaries scattered throughout, serving and taking care of those lost within the beautifully cruel desert. They had tried their best to protect these lands from iterator rains.

Sub-region: Oasis

Go east, past the crumbling temples, and deep into the wild as you can go, you will find it. A lake so deep it’s thought to lead to the void sea. Many have drowned trying to find the bottom themselves. Perhaps there’s another path down?

Untouched Steppe [US]

Untouched by rains, that is. Rolling plains of shrubs and grasses, with skies so clear you can see the stars from the surface. Cities built around religious sites spread wide, seemingly making do with what little water there is. Though it may seem rather lifeless, droves of wild creatures appear from their burrows and dens during the cool nights.

Mausoleum [DC] Desert Crypts

Just below the mountains is a large graveyard of sorts. The memories of those who have moved on and left this material world lined in rows, stacked like blocks, sand and dust slowly enveloping them. Fierce organisms guard these crypts, guarding what is already largely forgotten.

River Reservoir [RR]

The wetlands that surrounded the river were built atop of and excavated in favor of creating water pumps and tanks for the iterators. As a result, the water levels began to fluctuate rapidly in response to the rains. Though the architecture is designed around this, a creature in the wrong spot may end up swallowed by the river.

Archipelago [AP]

What was once a large plain has been drowned and eroded by a single, rather large iterator. What remains now are a few islands and external facilities and factories peeking out over the dirty waters.

#textadactyl #lotg #light on tainted glass #rain world #rain world oc

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whencyclopedia · 4 months ago

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Archaeology

Archaeology is a wide subject and definitions can vary, but broadly, it is the study of the culture and history of past peoples and their societies by uncovering and studying their material remains, i.e. tools, ruins, and pottery. Archaeology and history are different subjects but have things in common and constantly work with each other. While historians study books, tablets, and other written information to learn about the past, archaeologists uncover, date, and trace the source of such items, and in their turn focus on learning through material culture.

As much of human history is prehistoric (before written records), archaeology plays an important role in understanding the past. Different environments and climates help or hinder the survival of materials, e.g. papyri can survive thousands of years in the hot and dry desert but would not survive in damp conditions. Waterlogged conditions, such as bogs, can preserve organic material, like wood, and underwater wrecks are also excavated using diving equipment. Working everywhere from digging in the ground to testing samples in laboratories, archaeology is a wide-ranging discipline and has many subsections of expertise. The two rapidly widening areas are experimental archaeology and ethnoarchaeology. Experimental archaeology tries to recreate ancient techniques, such as glass making or Egyptian beer brewing. Ethnoarchaeology is living among modern ethnic communities, with the purpose of understanding how they hunt, work, and live. Using this information, archaeologists hope to better understand ancient communities.

Archaeology of the Past

Archaeology as an academic study, career, and university subject is a fairly recent development. Nevertheless an interest in the past is not new. Humankind has always been interested in its history. Most cultures have a myth or story that explains their foundation and distant ancestors. Ancient rulers have sometimes collected ancient relics or rebuilt monuments and buildings. This can often be seen as political strategy - a leader wanting to be identified with a great figure or civilisation from the past. On the other hand, ancient leaders have also been known for their curiosity and learning. King Nabonidus of Babylon, for example, had a keen interest in the past and investigated many sites and buildings. In one temple, he found the foundation stone from 2200 years before. He housed his finds in a kind of museum at his capital of Babylon. The Roman and Greek historians wrote books about the past, and the stories of famous heroes and leaders have come down to us.

However, modern archaeology, or at least its theories and practice, stem from the antiquarian tradition. In the 17th and 18th centuries CE, wealthy gentleman scholars, or antiquarians as they are also known, began to collect classical artefacts. Fuelled by interest, they began to make some of the first studies of sites like Pompeii and drew ancient monuments in detail. The first scientific excavation has been attributed to Thomas Jefferson (third president of the United States of America) who dug up some of the burial mounds on his property in the state of Virginia, USA. The beginnings of modern field techniques were pioneered by General Augustus Lane-Fox Pitt Rivers, who excavated barrows at Camborne Chase with systematic recording and procedure. In the USA in the 1960s CE, archaeology went through a phase of new theories, often called processual archaeology. This approach has a scientific approach to questions and designs models to suggest answers and test its theories.

#History #Archaeology #Babylon #EastAfrica #WHE #[#]

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the-library-of-leitner · 6 months ago

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The Queen & The Egg Sac

Appearance:

A soft saddle stitched pamphlet bound in worn leather. The cover is green and speckled with light and dark stains from an unknown source. It is 54 pages in length with every page contaminates by the same fluid staining the covers. The book appears to have been hand written.

Content:

The book is announced as “The methodology of attaining pure nigredo under the Great Putrefaction”. The initial section has the author explaining how they have found the magnum opus through nigredo alone by constructing something called the resurrection mound.

Following this they leave some notes about the physical appearance of the mound and its inhabitants. Apparently a Queen nurtures an egg sac that holds great power inside while workers assimilate flesh in to the mound and puppeteer the dead as guards.

Most of the book is alchemical equations of the methodology for constructing the mound, creating the Queen and safely extracting the Egg Sac. Most of these alchemical equations are nonsensical with unclear instructions speaking more conceptually than scientifically.

The final few pages suggest that the author gave themselves to the mound entirely.

Abnormality:

Two separate powers have been recorded from this book. The first can occur in any reader, shortly after exposure the victim will feel as though they are being stung by insects over the following few days with this escalating to actual physical injuries if exposure continues. This has yet to be found to be fatal.

The second power has only been confirmed based off the investigation associated with its acquisition. Certain people who resonate with the book are capable of following the book’s methodology to create the resurrection mound. All attempts to perform this during testing has failed.

Acquisition:

The Queen & The Egg Sac was found in the back offices of ███████ ████ pest control in ████. The search was performed as a part of an ongoing investigation where it was discovered the pest control building was being used as a make shift laboratory for experimentation on vermin and insects.

The investigation started after child protective services were called to ███████ where they found a large pile of rotten meat and bones in the back garden surrounded by a vast number of dead hornets. When questioned the Mother blamed the exterminators for it.

Neither of the exterminators have been able to be located and have been listed as missing person cases.

Classification:

“The Great Putrefaction” just another name for the crawling rot to add to the list. Another soul who stumbled on something they could not understand and tried to make it conform to their pre-existing beliefs.

It will be stored in the appropriate wing. Testing will not be performed for this book as it describes in great detail what the mound is and it does not sound beneficial in the slightest.

#leitner books #the magnus archives #the library of jurgen leitner #from the library of jurgen leitner #monte cook games #The Magnus Archives RPG #tma #bookbinding

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spacenutspod · 10 months ago

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On May 30, NASA’s Curiosity Mars rover, currently exploring Gale Crater on the red planet, drove over a small rock on the Martian surface. The rock cracked open while driving over the rock, revealing its interior composition. Scientists on Curiosity’s team were stunned to find yellow sulfur crystals within the rock — the first time these crystals have been spotted on Mars. What’s more, the rock these crystals were found in is made of elemental, or pure, sulfur, unlike the more common sulfur-based minerals Curiosity has previously detected. Since October 2023, Curiosity has been investigating a region of Gale Crater rich with sulfates, a kind of salt that forms as water evaporates and contains sulfur. Scientists aren’t yet sure if there is a connection between the pure sulfur found in the rock and the sulfur-based rocks that have been found in the past. Sulfur can only form in a very narrow set of conditions. Curiosity’s scientists haven’t associated the region the rover is exploring with these conditions, which is why the team was shocked by sulfur crystals within the rock. This also isn’t the only rock in this region like this — the team has since identified an entire field of similar rocks in the area around the rover. The rock Curiosity drove over and subsequently discovered sulfur crystals within. (Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/MSSS) “Finding a field of stones made of pure sulfur is like finding an oasis in the desert. It shouldn’t be there, so now we have to explain it. Discovering strange and unexpected things is what makes planetary exploration so exciting,” said Ashwin Vasavada, a Curiosity project scientist at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) in California. See AlsoCuriosity Mission UpdatesSpace Science CoverageNSF StoreClick here to Join L2 In September 2014, Curiosity began climbing Mount Sharp (also referred to as “Aeolis Mons”), a large 5.5 km tall mountain in the center of Gale Crater. Along its trek up, Curiosity has explored several different regions of the mountain. Its latest stop was at the Gediz Vallis channel — a large groove in the side of Mount Sharp that winds down to the base of the mountain. Each layer of Mount Sharp that Curiosity encounters on its climb represents a different part of Mars’ history. Gediz Vallis is one of the main reasons Curiosity’s science team selected Gale Crater as the rover’s landing location before its launch in 2011. The team believes that the channel was carved out by large and long flows of liquid water and debris. In addition to the channel’s geographical nature, the 3.2 km-long ridge of boulders and sediment that extends down the mountain is evidence for these water flows. When Curiosity arrived at the channel, the team’s main goal was to develop an understanding of how the landscape was carved billions of years ago. Since then, Curiosity has studied whether ancient floods or landslides formed the ridge that rises from the channel’s floor. Curiosity’s findings suggest that both floods and landslides played a role in some way, as some of the sediment and rock piles in the ridge appear to be left by violent flows of water. Other piles appear to be the result of landslides. Panoramic image of the Gediz Vallis channel, taken by Curiosity. (Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/MSSS) To reach these conclusions, the team commands Curiosity to investigate various rocks found within the debris piles, as the shapes and appearance of these rocks help determine their past and origin. For example, rounded stones that look similar to river rocks were likely carried by water flows, whereas angular rocks were likely deposited by dry avalanches. Once all of these rocks settled into their mounds within the ridge, water soaked into all of the material. This water then caused chemical reactions that likely created the sulfur-based and pure sulfur rocks that Curiosity is now discovering. “This was not a quiet period on Mars. There was an exciting amount of activity here. We’re looking at multiple flows down the channel, including energetic floods and boulder-rich flows,” said Planetary Science Institute scientist Becky Williams, who also serves as the deputy principal investigator of Curiosity’s Mastcam instrument. The team’s initial expectations for their findings in the channel were much less complex than expected. The more Curiosity explores, the more complex the region becomes, and the team was eager to drill into of one of the rocks in the channel to better understand its composition and history. On June 18, they got their chance as Curiosity drilled into a large sulfur rock named “Mammoth Lakes” using its drill at the end of its two-meter-long robotic arm. Most sulfur rocks are too small and brittle to be drilled into and sampled, but Mammoth Lakes was an exception. Even with Mammoth Lakes’ large size, though, the team had to search for a part of the rock that would allow for safe drilling and sampling. What’s more, the team had to find a safe spot for Curiosity to park while it drilled, as the surrounding surface was loose and sloping. After drilling into Mammoth Lakes — the 41st time the rover had performed drilling during its mission — the rover poured the now-powdered rock into a set of instruments inside of the rover. Those instruments have since investigated the rock, and teams are now analyzing the data from those instruments to learn more about the rock and its internal composition. After successfully drilling into Mammoth Lakes, Curiosity drove away and is currently exploring other areas of the channel to learn more about its history and what it means for Martian history. (Lead image: Curiosity takes a selfie at the Murray Buttes region of Mount Sharp. Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech) The post Curiosity discovers pure sulfur rocks, continues to explore Mount Sharp on Mars appeared first on NASASpaceFlight.com.

#space #astronomy #news #science

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silvercap · 1 year ago

Note

ough thats a lot of prompts woag. i would love to see what you think of with "pinned" or "buried" ? love to see a guy struggling with all his might but hopelessly trapped and in danger >:)

Ooohh absolutely 🤭 (for this prompt list)

Pinned/Buried

Leon can't breathe right. The first thing he's aware of when he swims shakily back to consciousness is how hard it is to suck in a full breath, entire ribcage aching when he tries. He groans, attempting to roll onto his side--only to cry out as his eyes fly open, ragged, excruciating pain shattering the dreamlike haze. It takes him a long time to focus, the slowly-building agony in his thigh making itself known at the same time as his left arm begins to throb, tingling like it's losing circulation. There's daylight pouring in from somewhere above him, autumn sunlight dappling a small sliver in the rock above him in vivid gold. He vaguely remembers that the weather had been nice before he and Piers' team had entered the underground laboratory, all rustling leaves and cool breezes. Speaking of, where is Piers?

It's then that he makes sense of the massive chunks of concrete pinning him in place, a glance downward revealing the spire of twisted rebar that plunges into the outside of his right thigh and keeps him from moving an inch in any direction. The rock it's protruding from is half leaning on Leon's chest and shoulder; not a huge piece of wreckage but still enough to make breathing hurt. His left arm--

Leon swallows down the urge to vomit, taking in the sight of his mangled left arm, hand pointing the wrong way and fingers crumpled like a wad of bloody notepaper, aching all the way from his upper arm to the tips of his nails. He whimpers. That can't be good, can it?

The sudden shriek of what can only be a licker freezes him in place, adrenaline flaring as he automatically tries to shoulder the piece of cement off of his body. It doesn't do much more than drive the metal spike even deeper into his leg, a stifled groan echoing around his small pocket of air. He blinks hazily as the world goes a fraction more out of focus, unable to do anything but stare up at the sky. The clouds are fluffy and white, like lines of sheep bobbing happily across the sky.

It's possible that he's hit his head, too.

The licker shrieks again, closer, Leon's muscles coiling as much as his broken body will allow as the thing peeks it's awful head over the edge of the nearest mound of rubble. It hisses, tasting the air with a long tongue, and Leon hopes against hope that it won't head in his direction. But of course it does, wicked claws scraping over crumbling stone as it creeps slowly down towards him.

Leon can't move a muscle.

#whump #ask game #my fics #drabbles #hehe thanks <33

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thoughtlessarse · 27 days ago

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In the vast white expanse around Churapcha in eastern Siberia, the ever more rapid thaw of the permafrost is changing the landscape, cracking up houses and releasing greenhouse gases. A growing number of little mounds are appearing across the region of Yakutia in the Russian Far East. Known as "bylars" in the Yakut language, the tiny hillocks are no more than a meter high and have an almost regular polygonal shape. "The peaks of these formations are stable. It is the space between the mounds that is sinking," said Nikita Tananayev, director of the climate laboratory at the Federal Northeastern University in the regional capital Yakutsk. "With climate change, the ice is melting faster," he told AFP. -The mounds' distinctive shape is due to the fact that the underground ice that is melting is shaped in polygons. Permafrost is a layer of soil that is never supposed to thaw and covers around 65% of Russia's territory.

#russia #siberia #melting permafrost #climate change #ghg emissions #building subsidence #bylars #climate crisis #climate feedback loop

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prof-olive · 6 months ago

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Welcome to Gaia! (Part II)

(cws: none!) (word count: 1500)

The steps leading up to the cable car station hadn't been quite as arduous to climb as they seemed. In fact, you'd barely broken a sweat when you stepped up to the attendant at the counter, who took your change and boasted a gentle smile as she handed over your ticket. But by the time the swaying carriage had scaled the upper side of the mountain, passing by spectacular views of the smaller peaks and tiny dots of villages peppering the viridian valleys between, you felt the Butterfree in your stomach twist into knots instead as you stepped off the platform and felt frost crunching under your heels.

From the station, the laboratory could be spotted just up the hill, barely a few minutes’ walk away down the packed-dirt path. It was a short, squat building that had been built into the mountain itself, with a few hedges and flowers surrounding the front lawn that were oddly healthy for such cold weather. Being so early, few other residents hung around the area–save for a couple small groups of eager skiers and snowboarders, who hustled down the branching trails to head for a spot on the slopes further down. A couple pokémon joined them, a Glalie and Froslass in particular, and by the orange bands adorning their arms and horns respectively, it seemed they were tasked with mountain safety or something of the like–odd choices for such intensive responsibilities, but you were in no position to judge, now were you?

Instead, you turned your attention forward and headed up the incline towards the laboratory, your heart thudding against your ribcage with each and every step. You tugged your coat tighter around you as the wind picked up, yet as you reached the peak of the slope, a sudden warmth basked over you like it exuded from an enormous heater.

There, curled up in a mound of snow just inches from the front door, was a Hydreigon massive enough to weaken your knees at the mere sight of it. The heat emanating from its snoring nostrils had melted the better part of snow and frost around it, yet even so you froze, and stopped in your tracks with your eyes locked on to the sleeping giant. Then, as if sensing your presence, the dragon-type pokemon cracked open the slit of its black-sclera eye; its red pupil narrowed in your direction, and just as the thought of sprinting back to the cable car crossed your mind, the behemoth sighed and nuzzled back into the comfort of its makeshift nest. It had no intent to bother you, and that was enough of a blessing for you to scurry down the last few feet of path and throw yourself through the huge, heavy pine door of the laboratory.

“Oh!” A voice piped up at the slam of the door behind you–a quick glance around proved similar surroundings as what you'd seen from the introductory video, primarily shelves and tables of novels and scattered papers peppered by lab equipment–and from around a shelf stacked with cluttered books, the green-haired head of professor Olive poked out and smiled at the sight of a new trainer. “Oh, look at you! Whose fresh face is this?” She cooed, dusting herself off and hurrying to greet you, all while knocking over a stack or two of books on her way. As soon as she stood before you, her cool hands clamped both of yours as she shook each one excitedly. “You must be my new protégé!”

“Protégé?” You echoed, though she paid little mind to it as she turned around and headed for her desk on the opposite side. An Ambipom swung on the lights overhead as you ventured further into the lab, its violet fur bristling as it regarded you with eager curiosity.

“Come in, come in! Get warm–have a cup of tea!” She waved you in, though with another step you nearly tripped over a sarcophagus nudged awkwardly into your path, the feet jutting out from where it had been propped up against the wall. As you passed your eyes over it, the gold-inlaid face slowly spread into an unsettling grin, and the sudden flashing of red eyes as it opened them made you jump and hurry to catch up with the professor. You clung to her sleeve when the Ambipom dropped with a thud on an end table to sniff you, but she just laughed, and gently shooed away her curious pokémon to keep from bothering you–all save for her Skitty, who mewed adorably as it hopped up on Olive's desk chair and dropped a small card in her palm. The cuddly pokémon nuzzled her hand before hopping up on her shoulder as she took her seat, the card laid out next to her as she tapped away on her computer. A little lost, you plopped yourself down in a worn, old vinyl chair across from her, shyly peering about at the lab until she finally swivelled around with a big smile.

“All done!” She handed over your shiny new trainer card, complete with your date of birth, the photo you submitted in your initial email, and a few other details you could puzzle over later. Two steaming cups of tea appeared on her desk as if by magic, though with a glance over your shoulder you spotted only the glowing eyes of the Cofagrigus watching you from afar–you took the tea, but only hoped nothing sinister had made its way into it. “So, who's your pick?” Olive asked with excitement, already blowing off the steam from her own cup.

“My–my pick?” Your head cocked as you tried to recall what she meant, though the three pokeballs she produced from her labcoat pockets instantly jogged your memory. Your partner! In the flurry of activity to get here and get all your stuff moved in, it had somehow slipped your mind. “O-Oh, um…what are my choices, again?”

“Nervous, huh?” The professor chuckled. “It's okay! I was the same way–couldn't make up my mind, so I went out and caught my own!” She scratched Skitty's head for the creature to start purring, before it hopped off her lap and trotted away into the disorganized chaos of the lab. It honestly looked more like half lab, half library rather than a traditional pokémon professor's research facility. But then again, professor Olive wasn't exactly a normal professor. “You can choose from Eevee, Goomy, or Ralts!”

Still, you looked over the pokeballs in the green-haired woman's hands, wondering which would be best for you. You didn't know your battling style yet, and you weren't even sure what kind of pokémon you even liked, or were compatible with. You sat and pondered, and pondered, and eventually she must've gotten fed up or her arms were just getting tired–because Olive suddenly reached over and tugged open the flap of your bag, and let the three balls tumble into it before she zipped it shut.

“Here, how about this–take all three for now, and try ‘em out! Whichever ones don't fit, just bring them back to the lab.” She patted your bag as the pokeballs jostled within, the pokémon no doubt sensing a shift inside as they were passed from hand to hand.

“A-Are you sure?”

“Of course!” She answered cheerily. “I believe in you. If you have questions, you can just ask!” As she said so, her Rotom phone flung itself out of her breast pocket–turning itself sideways, it activated its own radar until it pinged, and your own phone buzzed in your pocket as your profile was registered in her contacts. She plucked it out of midair and tucked it back into her labcoat, the Rotom within humming contently as it no doubt enjoyed being pressed to the professor's warm chest. “Just shoot me a text or ring me! You can contact me anytime.” The way she winked as she said so stirred something in your gut, but it came and went in an instant, and soon the professor was innocently standing from her seat and ushering you towards the front door. “Now, it's about time you got out on your adventure! I already loaded the pokédex program on to your trainer card, so you can just insert it into your phone to get started!”

With that, and one last cheerful greeting as the professor escorted you safely back to the cable car, she waved as you descended back down the mountain until she, and her lab, were swallowed up by mist in your rearview. As the car swayed gently in the breeze, curiosity eventually got the better of you and you opened up your bag, peering down at the three, glowing pokeballs nestled inside. Eevee, Goomy, or Ralts. Whatever you picked would likely dictate the course of your life going forward, and determine how you grew into the trainer you had wanted to be since you were a teenager.

So the question remained: who will you pick?

#pokefilia #cw.pokephilia #pokemon #professor olive #monster blog #pokeblr #pokeblog rp #prof olive's fics

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skylarstark4826 · 8 months ago

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Everything had been fine the night before, at least as close to fine as Spider thinks it could have been.

He’d eaten with Norm, Max and the other science guys as he usually does in High Camp’s canteen, munching on bland supplies and the mandatory bag of dried food. Imagining the meal the others must be having. He had been able to smell it when he’d headed back to the breathable air in the smaller compound. And he had been sure the others had too, because they stared at their meal with the same amount of moroseness that Spider felt.

The chatter had been quiet and mundane, and focussed around things he wasn’t allowed to know about, but he’d heard anyway. They were chill that way, even though Spider knew Jake wasn’t a big fan of it.

He and the other kids weren’t supposed to know about their plans for supply runs, not at least until they’d come of age. Which, obviously wouldn’t happen for Spider, so he blatantly eavesdropped whenever he could.

Mealtime had been standard, and he’d scuttled to his room at Max’s quiet insistence, because Norm was too stressed and keyed up to make sure he got into bed. Spider doesn’t like disappointing Max, so he went to his room far more easily than he would have if it had been Norm telling him to do so.

And also because the laboratory was filled with activity and scientists. Harried energy seeping out from the door crack and through the glass windows.

He’d slipped away quietly, settling on his bed with his arm tucked behind his head and his legs spread beneath the blanket. Listening to the quiet sounds of High Camp settling down for the night.

And that had been that.

No strange muscle pain, no feeling of sickness, nothing to say that his body felt off. Nothing to suggest why he’s suddenly in this situation the morning after.

Nothing to explain why his bed suddenly feels three sizes too big for his body. Why he can't stand on his own feet without tumbling sideways. And why whenever he tries to call for someone, a pathetic sound escapes his mouth instead. Why he suddenly feels he has an extra limb.

He tries to push himself upright, and his whole self tips over again, his legs flail desperately and he makes an indignant sound that doesn’t sound like him at all. The blanket tangles between his limbs, and he’s panicking. Because this isn’t meant to be happening, he’s nearly of an age to become taronyu he shouldn’t be bested by his own bed clothing.

He wriggles and squirms, tries to fight against his soft prison, trying to find something to orientate himself. And suddenly, he doesn’t have anything to lie on. The bed falls away, and gravity takes a swift hold, causing him to plummet to the floor.

It should hurt more than it does - he expects an impact that should cause some bruises - but something in his mind takes hold of the bottom half of his body, twisting his hips and legs so that he lands gracelessly, wobbles, and then tips over again.

He groans, and tries one more time to get free of his imprisonment, when suddenly an ominous banging sound reaches his ears and has him freezing in place.

It’s so loud, thundering in his chest and vibrating his sternum. It’s followed by silence, and then it comes again. He waits for the monster that’s so obviously coming to eat him for breakfast, every muscle tensed, when a familiar squeak has him perking up.

Finally, someone has noticed he’s late to morning meal and has come to make sure he’s okay. They’ll be able to untangle him from his confines and he’ll be able to hiss at them not to say a word. He can hear their footsteps now, and tries desperately to wriggle again.

“Spider?” Norm calls, and Spider grunts in annoyance. “Are you here?”

Why is that a question, why would Norm ask that can’t he see the big wriggling mound of blanket on the floor? Spider opens his mouth to tell him as such when a muted thudding sound comes closer.

“Maybe he left already,” Norm mumbles, and a shadow passes over Spider. “He didn’t make his bed again, how many times do I have to remind him?”

Never again, Spider thinks. I’ll make sure to make my bed every morning from now on, Norm, just please get me out of this stupid blanket.

The shadow moves, and convalesces into the shape of fingers right over Spider’s head. And suddenly it all seems a bit too much, the size of them, the inching speed as they move up and over his head, and Spider suddenly finds himself flinching backwards. Away from the hand that obviously wants to help him.

The hand that grabs hold of the sheet, and a bit of the skin at his back.

Spider yelps in pain, ignoring how strange it sounds and instead focusing on how the hair on his head suddenly seems to stand on end. And how the hand freezes where it is, as if hesitant to pull the blanket the whole way. But that means that Norm’s hand is still hooking into the skin, and Spider tries to wriggle both to get away from the grabbing fingers and his entanglement.

“What the hell,” Norm says, and finally the blanket is pulled off his back, exposing Spider to the bright lights of his room.

He blinks and squints, because everything seems just a little bit blurry, but his eyes snap open definitively at Norm’s sudden exclamation of “fuck!”

And Spider tries to repeat his sentiment, although all that comes out of his mouth is another strangled yelp. Because Norm is ten times taller than he should be, and the height difference between the floor and Spider’s bed denotes a far longer drop than he’s used to.

And it’s the first time that morning that he admits to himself that something is not right. At all.

A shiver unravels all the way up his spine, at the same time as Norm crouches down to Spider’s new height. Peering at him in absolute shock and astonishment.

“Spider?” he asks, and although Spider does want to answer, possibly to shout at Norm to help him fix this, he instead inches backwards at the approach of his grabbing hand. “Is that really you? It can’t be, you’re a ti–”

The door slams open behind him, clanging against the wall so hard it startles Spider badly. And something in his brain turns the switch that has him acting on instinct, and he’s suddenly sprinting. Running on his four - yes, four, which is only adding to the weirdness of today - legs in between Max’s feet and sliding into the corridor beyond.

His feet have no grip, he realises this when they slip on the marble floor, nearly sending him careening into the wall. Shouts echo behind him, and he scrabbles for purchase to get further away from the two men who are now actively trying to give chase. And Spider’s mind tumbles further into the base instincts he’d acted on, until all he can think about is finding a place to hide.

A small hole, or a cupboard, or maybe even under someone’s desk. Just anywhere that he can spend a few moments to gather himself back into his usual shape.

The corridors get busier the further into the compound he goes, until he notices the white lab coats and instruments placed high - too high, too tall for his unusual height - and knows he’s reached the main laboratory. He darts between legs, ducks under chairs and tables, and scrambles when someone suddenly tries to catch him.

Because all around him, there’s shouting and calls of his name, the thundering of feet which tell him Norm and Max are giving chase.

“Stop him!” Max shouts.

“That’s Spider,” Norm exclaims, as if it could be anyone else sprinting through the laboratory, “stop him before he reaches the supply closet!”

He’s close to that? Where is it? That could be a good place to hide.

But nope, the next turn is blocked by another scientist, and although she makes a poor attempt at lunging for him, it does send him veering off course. And straight for a corner made by two desks.

He places his back firmly against the wall and curls up, making himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. It doesn’t work, obviously, because Max spots him immediately, but it has Spider feeling as if he’s got a bit of an advantage.

“Hey buddy,” Max says in a quiet voice, going down on his haunches to creep closer. “Are you doing alright? It must be a bit scary suddenly waking up like this.”

“It’s fucking terrifying!” Spider tries to shout back, but a pathetic noise escapes his lips instead. It has his jaw snapping shut, and Max laughing at him.

“Did you go to sleep like this Spider?” Norm asks, rounding Max on his left and crouching down as well. “Because you seemed fine at supper.”

“What do you think?” Spider tries to say to no avail. “Do you know how to fix this?”

“Maybe we should complete some scans, do some tests? It might help to figure out what’s happened to him?” Norm says, and suddenly he tries to grab Spider. Again.

A hot coil of indignation burns in his gut, and he swipes out with a hand to bat Norm away. What hits him is not a human hand - which was obvious because he can tell he’s not human right now - but a paw, coloured bright orange and tipped with claws.

It tears a little at Norm’s skin, causing him to snatch his hand back with a hiss of pain. And Spider shies away, worried that he’s hurt his friend and whining quietly.

“Sharp little claws,” he murmurs, and Max huffs and shakes his head exasperatedly.

“What did you expect?” he asks.

“I dunno,” says Norm, “a little bit of restraint maybe? He knows we won’t hurt him, so why try and hurt us?”

“Well, maybe it’s the fact that you’re nearly four times his size right now, and were trying to scruff him like a kitten?” Max retorts. “That might be a reason.”

“Well sorry,” Norm says sarcastically, “my instincts kicked in because he’s so tiny and shaped like a cat.”

“You’re tiny and shaped like a cat,” Spider spits back weakly, but all that comes out is an irritated hissing noise. Similar to one Lo’ak or Neteyam do when they’re woken up earlier than they want to be. It has Spider blinking in surprise, and one too many giggles wafting over the crowd of scientists present.

“So, scans?” Norm asks again, although he doesn’t move to try and grab Spider again. And he’s preparing to protest, because there’s no way he’s spending the rest of his morning being poked and prodded like some science experiment.

“Max?” someone suddenly says, and an assistant jogs over with a datapad, the screen illuminating the main door. Spider feels his shoulders rolling forward in relief. “Jake Sully has been asking for you. Apparently the kids haven’t seen Spider yet and they’re worried.”

“He could help try and figure out what’s happened,” Norm suggests almost brightly, and Spider laughs at the unimpressed look Max aims at him. “Or not.”

“Let him in,” Max replies. “But don’t let the kids come with him, we don’t want to overwhelm Spider when he’s like this.”

“Do you think it’s something he ate?” Norm asks, and again an unimpressed look is aimed at his head, to which he raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, stupid question. But this could have been anything.”

“Which is why we’re going to ask the last person to see Spider outside of the compound if anything happened before he came back for the night,” Max says, and Norm nods in agreement. “For now, let’s try and get you,” and here his hand comes close enough to touch Spider’s nose, “somewhere where we can get a good look at you.”

And although Spider gives another weak swipe with his claws - because he has those now, who knew? - he allows Max to lift him by the skin on the back of his neck. Which hurts a lot less than he expects, and causes the rest of his limbs to fall embarrassingly limp.

There’s a small huff of laughter, which has Spider flailing his claws again, but he’s too far away from Norm to do much damage.

He’s deposited on a cold metal table, which has even less purchase than the floor and causes him to sprawl very inelegantly, his limbs spread eagled on the surface. And his chin colliding with the metal table and causing him to yelp indignantly.

“Sorry,” Max says, but it doesn’t sound as genuine as it should be, and Spider’s already trying to make his way up to his feet to tell him as such. Although he keeps slipping badly, and the only noises coming out of his mouth are tiny squeaks and croaks.

And then suddenly, something smacks his nose, and he flinches back at the violence of it, nearly sprawling on his back because of how quickly he moves back. And his face must be a picture, because Norm and Max burst into laughter, even though Spider yells at them to shut up, stop laughing and fix this.

They laugh for so long and so loudly that they practically bend over at the waist from it, and at one point Norm has to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry bud,” Max says through his giggles, even though Norm is making no attempt to stymie his own. “It’s just too funny, and you’re so small and cute, and the way you just got assaulted by your own tail–”

“Tail?!” Spider tries to yell, twisting around as much as he can to look behind him. He slips again, because of course he does, before he’s able to gain some traction with his feet and twist his neck in such a way that he’s able to see behind him.

He ignores the presence of black stripes running down his spine - for now, because he can only deal with one panic attack at a time - and concentrates instead on the fact that he’s got a tail running out of the base of his spine. Not just a small stub of a thing, a proper long moveable limb, which seems to have a mind of its own.

It twitches and moves from side to side, its end curling and uncurling, rounding itself around Spider’s feet–paws. Where it rests, taunting Spider, teasing him, making some base sort of instinct want to toy with it and play with it.

He inches one paw towards it slowly, reaching out with his claws to try and grab its end. But it moves away, at least two inches to the left. And out of irritation Spider swipes at it, to which it practically dances away.

He’s sure he looks the absolute picture of a cat, but he wants to get his tail because it’s really annoying him now. And if it won’t stay still by itself then he’s– going– to– make– it–

“What the hell is going on?” comes a sudden, familiar voice. One that has Spider freezing in place where he’s now lying upside down. The tip of the tail clutched in between his front paws and his mouth opening and closing to gnaw at its end. He stares at Jake sheepishly, and opens his mouth just a little bit, but refuses to let go of his tail. He can feel his ears flatten against his skull, which is all kinds of strange.

Norm and Max are still wheezing, still bent over halfway, both nearly lying on the floor because they can’t keep themselves upright. But at some point one of them pulled out a datapad. It’s set up in such a way that the whole metal table is in the shot, and so that every second of Spider’s antics are recorded for future entertainment.

Spider works himself upright, until he’s standing on all four legs and trying desperately to complain at Jake. Telling him about the horrible morning he’s had, and how the two idiots still nearly pissing themselves laughing are of no help. And asking whether he or Mo’at would know what’s wrong with him, whether he knows how to fix his.

But again, all that comes out are sounds very similar to an angry palulukan. And with a stone of dread sinking into Spider’s stomach he notices the slight gleam in Jake’s eye. The one that always comes when his kids do something sweet, or he spots something cute in the forest.

And no way is Spider going to be treated like some cute animal, because he’s nearly an adult, if he were Na’vi he would be of age to complete his iknimiya and be initiated as a taronyu.

So when Jake reaches out his hand to, obviously, pet Spider’s back he takes a sharp swipe at him. And his claws hook into his skin without mercy. Although they don’t do much damage.

“Is that Spider?” he asks, and Norm wheezes harder but nods, clutching onto the edge of the table with a white knuckled grip. Jake reaches his other uninjured hand towards his friend, uncertain of whether he needs help or not. “What the hell happened?”

As Spider yowls - because that’s the only way to explain the noise that escapes his mouth - Max finally seems to get some sort of control, wipes his eyes and stands back upright. Although he leaves a hand to clutch onto the edge of the table, and gives Norm’s shoulder a little shake.

“Unfortunately,” he says, adjusting his glasses in such a way that has the lenses flaring in the bright light of the laboratory, “it is. We were hoping you’d be able to tell us what happened, seeing as you and the others were the last to see him outside of the compound.”

“Unfortunately?” Norm says through his giggles. “This is amazing, so much material to use when he’s being a brat.”

Spider growls as menacing as he can, although it comes out tiny and his tail hits his snout again. He displays his claws when they threaten to burst into laughter again, and is horrified to notice the slight twitch of Jake’s lips.

“Well,” Jake says pensively, tapping his chin with a finger, “I don’t think the kids did anything unusual yesterday. I saw them during the afternoon running about the rafters, and Neytiri was the one to call them for supper.”

That’s right, Spider remembers that. Mainly because they’d been having so much fun, jumping between the roots and branches that hover at least over a hundred feet above the main structure of camp. It had been him, Kiri, Neteyam and Lo’ak in a rare moment of unsupervised mischief.

It hadn’t been his idea to climb the rafters, but he’d kept up just fine with them. Even though Lo’ak teased him for his lack of tail, and Kiri had asked if he wanted one of them to fall back to keep an eye on him.

It had amounted to a race, because he’s stubborn and refuses to be seen as weak - he’s old and mature enough to admit that easily. They climbed as fast as they could over the branches, to see who could get across to the other side before everyone else. As was the way with the Sully kids, there were a few close calls, and Spider had even slipped at least once, but he’d won.

Because of course he did.

But apart from that, nothing had happened, and he was about to tell Jake and Norm and Max as such when he suddenly felt a finger scratching the fur just behind his ears.

Which was absolutely heavenly.

“But I don’t think anything happened to turn him into a tiger cub,” Jake continues, leaning down to get a closer look at Spider’s new form. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in person. They’ve become extinct on Earth, so how would Spider even know what they look like?”

Spider is too occupied with the blissful feeling of blunt nails against an itch he didn’t know he had. His whole body leans into Jake’s touch, and he’s not even surprised by the sudden and loud coughing sound which escapes his chest. It has Jake’s fingers jumping back in surprise, but Max laughs quietly.

“He’s happy,” he says at their confused looks. He reaches over as well, this time attacking the base of Spider’s chin which causes him to lift his head. “Have you never heard a tiger chuff before?”

“No,” Norm replies, “because they’re extinct. How do you know what they sound like when they’re happy?”

“The internet,” Max replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing. And he even yanks a datapad out of his pocket, flicking it on and tilting the screen so the others can see what he’s talking about. Spider feels his tail flick in irritation, because if there’s one thing he hates most, it’s being talked about as if he’s not right there.

Jake’s fingers even slow down in their scratching, and Spider takes direct offense, and claws at his skin.

“Ow!” Jake exclaims, snatching his hand back. Spider takes it as an opportunity to chase after it, although he doesn’t get very far. His paws slip on the metal surface, and he stumbles a little bit.

“We better get to testing the little guy,” Norm says, and Spider yowls loudly in protest. Although he’s ignored as he turns to Jake and asks, “Can you stay and keep him occupied?”

“So I can become the honorary scratching post?” he replies, but Spider can see he’s not going to move any time soon. And he even shrugs and goes back to itching Spider’s ear. But a finger is suddenly pointed at his nose, causing him to flinch back a little as Jake says, “Don’t do any real damage, hear me? I need my fingers.”

Spider finds his eyes following the slow wag of it in great interest. Jake chuffs a laugh, which is deep and comforting, and Spider finds himself chuffing right back.

The tests aren’t too bad, just a bit uncomfortable and overwhelming at times. But when there’s too many fingers prodding his sides, Spider only has to swipe at them and they give him space for a few moments. And when Norm and Max crowd him too much he hisses or lashes his tail and they back off.

All the while, Jake stays right in his line of sight, scratching his ears, itching underneath his chin, stroking his fingers all the way down his back until Spider becomes a malleable puddle of bones and fur, chuffing loudly and whining loudly whenever Jake even tries to stop.

“He seems healthy enough,” Max says once they pull back for the final time. “I’d say he’s in the range of a four month old cub.”

“What does that mean?” Jake asks, at the same time that Spider takes an interest in his fingers again. “Is he old enough to be away from a parental figure? Can he eat solids? Do we need to be careful about him getting out?”

“Yes to the second,” Norm replies, tapping the screen of his datapad a few times. “Technically no to the first but then again he came into this form without a parental figure so it might be fine? Then again it could not be.”

“And what happens if that’s the case?” Jake asks, holding one hand above his head to keep Spider occupied as he uses the other to take in a breath from the mask around his neck.

“One thing at a time,” Max replies, tucking away his instruments. “For now, our main priority is entertaining him until he’s back to normal. He’s a tiger cub, and at four months they’re usually quite spry and playful things.”

Spider inches his way towards the shape of Jake’s tail, which twitches of its own volition. He wants to catch it, and ignores the adults talking above his head, even though it’s still irritating. If anyone can fix what’s happened to him, it’s Max and Norm, so he just needs to concentrate on catching the tail–

He darts forward, and doesn’t realise the edge of the table is right there until his claws hook into it. And his free paw flies forward in an attempt to bat at Jake’s tail, causing him to jump away with a hiss.

“Entertain him, huh?” Jake asks, watching Spider try again to catch his extra appendage for a few moments. Beside him, Max and Norm snort quietly, and turn away from the sight so they don’t start laughing again.

“Can the kids see him like this?” he asks, sliding his hands underneath Spider’s front paws and lifting him so they’re nearly nose to nose. “I mean, is it safe for him and them? I don’t want Tuk getting hurt by his claws.”

Spider’s tail twitches, and he lets his whole form go limp. If he could, he’d aim an unimpressed look at Jake’s head because tiger cub or not - and he still doesn’t know what that is - he wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head. Lo’ak and Neteyam might be a different story. But when he goes to say that, a short snort of air escapes his nose instead, although it holds all the sentiment he wishes to convey anyway.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Max says, distractedly inputting something into his datapad. “As long as they’re careful with him. They might know what has put him in this position anyway, so it will be good to chat with them.”

For a moment, Spider considers what is about to happen. Who’s about to see him. And the thought of the others cooing over him in this form, when he’d worked so hard to prove he wasn’t some weakling human yesterday, makes his stomach turn ominously. And he begins to wiggle his back legs and whine again.

“Alright, alright,” Jake says. “I’ll put you down.”

But that’s not what Spider wants, and he tries to tell Jake that, but he’s too distracted with going to find the others to listen to him. So he ends up trying to chase him to the end of the metal table, whining loudly when he disappears out of the laboratory.

“Spider,” Norm says, and Spider’s yowls drift into chuffs again when he feels fingers stroke between his ears. “He’ll be back, don’t worry. Isn’t that nice, yes, that’s so nice isn’t it.”

“You’re surprisingly good at cat talk,” Max comments, coming around Spider’s other side and leaning his forearms against the tabletop. “Like, surprisingly good.”

Norm shrugs, and moves his fingers down to the base of Spider’s tail. Which has him lifting his entire rear end, and nearly upending himself onto the table. “I had cats as a kid,” he says. “Stray ones, but they seemed to be fine with me talking like this. At one point, I was convinced they kept on coming back because of the voice.”

“Oh?” Max asks. “Why’s that?”

“My brother. Oh that’s a big stretch,” Norm says when Spider yawns. “He was pretty good at convincing me to believe stupid things. Like he said I couldn’t memorise all of the known Na’vi words in a week.”

“And?” Max asks, but Norm only ducks his head in reply. Which has Max laughing quietly.

The pets and the calm atmosphere surrounding him does nothing to distract from the obvious clattering of doors and footsteps. The loud voices that follow ominously as the kids come charging towards the laboratory.

Spider calculates that he has about ten seconds to figure out whether he’s going to stay right where he is, or hide until he’s turned back into a human. He debates staying, he does he’s not kidding, but in the end the want to hide wins out. And he scrabbles from underneath Max’s fingers, and drops over the edge of the table.

Much to their shock and terror, if the sudden shouts of his name are anything to go by. But he somehow manages to not land on his face - possibly something to do with cat-like animals and their hips. Always staying on their feet, he’s sure Norm probably knows but he doesn’t bother to ruminate on it.

His claws scratch against the floor, and he makes a direct line to someone's desk. Specifically the small bit of space between it and the floor which is perfectly suited for a hidey hole. He manages to skitter underneath, just as the others make their - very dramatic - entrance.

Tuk is first, and barely says hello to Norm and Max before she’s stalking towards Spider’s hiding place. He shoves himself back further, pressing his spine against the wall until he’s sure the only thing she’d possibly be able to see are his eyes.

She crouches on her haunches, and leans down far enough that her braids drift over her shoulder. “Spider?” she asks in that innocent way that makes him want to answer. But then Lo’ak follows behind her, and he spies his toes from where he’s hiding.

“Seriously dude?” he says. Crouching down so that Spider can see his shadow just that little bit clearer. “It can’t be that bad, can it? I bet if you come out now we can fix it together?”

Spider tries to say it is that bad, that he doubts a dumbhead like Lo’ak would even have a hope of trying to fix this, but all that escapes him is a loud yowl that has Tuk giggling.

“So he’s actually not human at all anymore?” comes Neteyam’s voice, and Norm makes a noise of agreement.

“He’s gone completely animalistic,” he says, and Max snorts quietly as if it’s a funny thing. “Can’t talk, probably can’t eat normal food. It’ll be a wonder if we’ll ever get him back to normal again.”

Spider hisses at his words, although it doesn’t do much as he keeps lamenting the fact that Spider might have to stay like this forever.

Whilst he’s been distracted by other things - mainly the tail - Spider has not paid attention to the increase to the rest of his senses. But with the arrival of the others, and not to mention Kiri, suddenly they’re very, very obvious.

Because his nose twitches at their scent, it burns with the intensity of them, and he shies away further whilst pawing against his snout. They’re not bad smells, it’s just too much for his overwhelmed mind right now. And he doesn’t notice it, but the shadows and Tuk’s figure suddenly pull back. As if they can tell it’s too much for him.

The overwhelming stink is that of earth and mud and dirt. It seeps into his nostrils and sits there like a persistent bug. But it’s accompanied by the musky stench of ikran, and leather. Which must be either Neteyam or Jake, but he can’t quite figure out who.

“Let’s give him some space guys,” someone says, and when Spider peeks his eyes open, it’s to the underside of the desk only. And the quiet whispers of the others as they discuss between themselves.

Until suddenly, the wood above him creaks, and a shadow leans against the table leg, causing Spider to tense. The smell of dirt and forest is more prevalent, and it takes him a moment to realise that it’s Kiri. But even that doesn’t get him to come out of hiding any quicker. She doesn’t say anything, just sits, and Spider realises how comforting that simple action is.

Another shadow moves towards the desk, and Spider gets a brush of wood against his nose which has his whole snout wrinkling before he realises its Neteyam. The oldest and most sensible Sullys, come to sit with him.

He can vaguely hear Tuk’s whining from where she’d been dragged away, but Spider ignores it in favour of leaning his side against the wood of the table. Because it’s surprisingly nice, this quiet atmosphere which has fallen over them. He finds himself leaning into it, so much so that his ears twitch with every shuffle of feet or hands, the quiet sighing of his companions as they settle down further.

“What do you think actually caused this?” Neteyam suddenly says quietly.

Kiri hums and shuffles just a little bit, and Spider settles further into his position on the ground. A dust bunny makes its way towards him, but when he tries to catch it with his paw, it flutters up onto his snout.

He sneezes as she says, “I don’t know. But we’ll figure out how to fix it. And we can ask Grandmother for help.”

There’s a pause then, one that’s filled with Spider’s kitten sneezes which have his head shaking uncontrollably and his entire body moving backwards. Until he finds he has to sit up a little to try and gain some control over himself, and his head whacks against the edge of the desk chair next to him.

“How can we fix it if he stays under there?” Neteyam says, although his voice shakes a little with laughter.

“Well, he might just have to come out from his hiding spot if he wants to be turned back into a human, I suppose,” Kiri replies, her voice implying something Spider wasn’t too pleased with. Even though part of it was holding back laughter. “But if he doesn’t trust us to see him like this, then I suppose this is just how it’s going to be for the rest of his life.”

She shuffles again, and slips her hand in between the floor and the desk, wiggling her fingers at him as she says, “But, if he trusts us I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Spider stares at them for a few moments as if they’re strange moveable entities that he’s never seen before, and then there’s movement on his other side. And Neteyam is doing the same, although with his longer fingers he’s able to brush against Spider’s leg. His fingers freeze right where they are, and Spider watches them warily, wondering what he’s about to do.

When Neteyam inches them just enough so that Spider can touch them if he wants, and that they’re not actively against his fur– him. It’s a small gesture, but it has Spider - inexplicably - wanting to lick them.

“We’ll be here for you Monkey Boy,” Kiri continues, because Neteyam doesn’t need to say anything else. “Whatever you need.”

It feels like they’re offering more than their support, as if they’re asking him to trust them - which is stupid because if there’s anyone he’d trust with his life it would be them. But he can’t help but get that feeling that they are handing him something more. So he carefully inches towards the laboratory floor, out from underneath the desk chair with some trepidation.

His ears twitch at Tuk’s amazed gasp, but it’s Kiri’s wide eyes and Neteyam’s gaping jaw that he’s focused on. Because he’s never seen them look so surprised in all the years he’s known them. He snorts at them as best as he can, which ends up just sounding like a sneeze but it’s good enough.

“You’re so small,” Kiri whispers as Neteyam reaches out his fingers to touch. Spider stays very still, letting his hand drift over his back gently and slowly. He chuffs at the comfort, and Tuk takes that as a sign to tip toe over to them, keeping her movements as quiet as possible.

Spider leans into the touches when they come, chirruping at the soft feeling of hands on his back, far different to Max and Norm’s poking and prodding. He tries to get as close as he can to them, rubbing against their sides, weaving between their legs. Playing with Tuk when he finally sees that they won’t laugh at him, even if he’s a tiny animal who sounds pathetic.

“Maybe this is all you needed?” Kiri says later on, once everyone else is tuckered out and sprawled on a collection of blankets Jake had found for them.

The laboratory is filled with snores, and when he cranes his neck he spies Max with his head laid on one of the desktops, and Norm with his neck arched backwards, his mouth wide open. When he stretches out his paws he can feel Lo’ak’s leg and Neteyam’s stomach, and his flicking tail gently brushes against Tuk’s nose (which has her giggling).

And although he chirrups quietly at Kiri, he can’t help but feel as if it’s not quite right yet. As if there’s still something preventing him from turning back into his original form. As if there’s a door he’s yet to be able to open, and being bipedal is on the other side.

(It doesn’t mean that he won’t notice when his body suddenly changes back during the night, and for a few blissful hours he rejoices at having opposable thumbs and normal vocal chords.)

(And then he wakes up that morning to the paws and tail once again, refusing to give in to the despair that wishes to snap at his heels.)

“I don’t get it,” Jake sighs over Spider, his forearms leant against the edge of the metal table once more. “What could be keeping him like this? Some sort of Eywa magical hoodoo voodoo?”

“Seriously?” Norm asks from where he’s bent over a microscope, analysing a blood sample they’d taken from Spider. Which had hurt, surprisingly. “Magical hoodoo voodoo? That’s what you’re going with? This is the actual influence of the Great Mother herself, and you decide to give it that nickname?”

“We get it,” Max cuts in before Norm can build himself up into a screaming match, “he’s an idiot. Let’s focus on something we can fix. Are you getting anything from that sample?”

“No,” he grumbles after a moment of glaring at Jake’s smug expression. “The cellular structure is the same, the plasma count is fine and his white blood cells are good. It’s like he’s still Spider, it’s just that his skeletal form has changed. Like someone’s put him into a costume that’s too big for him to fit into.”

“His brain waves seem fine too,” Max says, lifting up his datapad to display the scan he’d taken. Spider swipes playfully at the blinking lights, not daring to think about the fact that he’s almost literally bouncing through his own mind. Max smiles at him fondly, but lifts his hand to gesture to part of it for the others to see. “Hippocampus is stable, and the cerebellum is in working order. There’s a bit of interference with his Frontal Lobe which I want to take a look into.”

“But other than that, he’s fine?” Lo’ak asks, and Max makes a noise of assent. “Then, what do we do?”

“I think,” Jake replies, laying a gentle hand on Spider’s head and scritching him just behind the ears, “it might be time to bring in the big guns. Thank goodness your sister has the sense to go and get your Grandmother, so I’m sure she’ll put this all to rights.”

“And if not?” Lo’ak asks, drawing attention to the slight panicking wideness of Spider's eyes. “What then?”

For a moment, he looks like he’s going to go for a joke, his mouth widening into a grin. But then Jake drops it, and instead shakes his head. “I’m not sure guys,” he replies, and Spider inches closer to Neteyam’s fingers, looking for some sort of comfort. “But we’ll figure something out.”

The familiar thud of the door closing and the rustle of plastic announces Kiri’s return, and Tuk trots in right behind her.

“We came back as quick as we could,” Kiri says, leaning her head down to be at Spider’s eyeline. “But Grandmother was helping at the cook fire so we had to practically drag her away.”

“You dragged me, did you?” Mo’at says as she steps inside, ducking her head to avoid the door frame. “I don’t recall anything of the sort. If I remember, you wanted to stop to get food.”

“Oh, right!” Kiri says, reaching behind her and pulling out her bounty.

Spider snorts at the fruits and vegetables in disgust, and when he tries to sniff at the pile of meat she displays next, a hand against the back of his neck stops him. He glances up indignantly, only to be met with Norm’s wagging finger.

“No,” he says simply, but in a voice that sounds exactly the same as his kitten speak tone. “We don’t know if this food will even agree with you buddy. Best to err on the right side of caution.”

And when Spider tries to swipe at the finger waving at his snout it’s snatched away before he can reach it, and a different hand lays against his body. It’s gentle, but larger than Norm’s. It doesn’t contain him, but he knows instinctively that he needs to stay as still as he can.

“You say he appeared like this yesterday morning?” Mo’at asks without aplomb, moving around the table so that she and Spider are now eye to eye. She reaches for his mouth, gently eases his lips upwards so that she can inspect his teeth. “No warnings? Nothing strange in his meal? No encounters of note?”

“No,” Norm replies. “He spent the day with the kids, came home and ate. If anything happened during the afternoon, they would be the ones to know.”

“And we just went climbing,” Neteyam supplies, and Mo’at hums quietly.

“Maybe it is a mental test from Eywa herself,” a different voice says, one that has Spider shying backwards instinctively. Neytiri has taken a place leaning against the wall of the laboratory, watching the proceedings from afar, one arrow held between slim and elegant fingers. Inspecting the stone at the top. “She has done something similar with the iknimiya challenges.”

“Yes,” Mo’at aquiesces, “but those were within controlled environments, my daughter. This is completely unprecedented and done without cause. However, every suggestion must be taken into account, so thank you Neytiri.”

“What can we do to turn him back?” Max asks, but Spider finds he’s not concentrating on the conversation occurring around him. He’s not even noticed that no one is holding him to the table, that he’s able to move around if he wishes. That everyone is talking over his head yet again.

Because he can’t lift his gaze from Neytiri. He can’t help that his entire body has begun to shake minutely, and he wants to do nothing more than drop his head and sink into the table if he can. Disappear from her sightline because it’s too intense, too calculating, too full of vitriol and it makes Spider want to just–

(You will never be one of us. You will never join my children in their iknimiya, if I had my way you wouldn’t even be completing any of the traditional steps.)

Her remembered words has his ears drooping, and his tail falling still. And although he knows she might not have meant it - after all, yesterday had been a day of mourning for many - he can’t help it that they have an effect on him. One that has an embarrassing whine escaping his lips.

“Spider?” Kiri asks, because she’s always been alert to him and his well being. It’s like she’s got this six sense, and it’s not just for him but all of her siblings too. And yet with the way her ears are twitching against the side of her head, it’s going to be impossible for Spider to play it off.

“Is something wrong?” Norm asks, darting over with his datapad in hand.

And now, Neytiri has noticed that something’s wrong, because she’s pushing away from her lean against the wall, and placing her arrow back into the quiver at her bow. Spider whines more, and tries to back away from the people beginning to surround him.

“Give him space guys,” Jake says quietly, but it’s not loud enough to draw them back. And suddenly there are hands placed against Spider’s flank.

“Did you hurt yourself buddy?” Norm asks, poking at his stripes to search for any injury. It only serves to annoy and startle Spider, who growls at the action and tries to take a bite out of Norm’s fingers. “Hey, don’t do that, that's not nice.”

“I think that’s the last thing he’s concentrating on,” Lo’ak says. “And I don’t think it’s physical either.”

“Maybe it is a test from the Great Mother,” Tuk adds, although she’s being held back by Mo’at’s arm. Which Spider is grateful for, because suddenly things are becoming a bit too much for him to bear.

The weight of their eyes is like heavy metal against his body, the sound of their voices has his ears pinning back against his head. The smells and feel of the cold metal beneath his body is too intense, and the slow approach of Neytiri has every single muscle in his body locking up.

(which is so stupid, stupid, stupid, come on Spider you coward you’ve hunted palulukan and you’re scared of a person you’ve known your whole life)

Something instinctual senses danger from an unknown source, and Spider’s growls grow in volume to encompass yowls, and he tries to shove himself away from their loud voices, and Neytiri’s nearly reaching hand.

“We need to do something,” Kiri says.

“What? We can’t just take him to the Spirit Tree and hold him up like Simba,” Norm snaps back.

“Actually, that could be a good idea,” Max chips in.

“Not the time guys. Is there some way we can get in contact with the Great Mother without taking Spider from the compound?” Jake says.

“Perhaps,” Mo’at replies. “I would need time to find them however.”

“How much time?”

“A day cycle at least.”

“I don’t think Spider’s gonna want to stay like that for a whole day,” Lo’ak says, and there’s a general sound of agreement.

One that Spider still ignores, because now Neytiri’s fingers are just within reach of his whiskers, and his whole body is trembling. And he can’t stop it. He shivers and shakes, all because she’s trying to touch him, and the instinctual part of his thinking - the one that has sorely taken over his whole thought process - wants his body as far away from her as possible.

“It’s me,” she whispers, although it does nothing to break through the controlled chaos surrounding them. But Spider hears her, and he tries to back up even further. Although little good does it do with the hand on his back keeping him firmly on the metal table. But then Neytiri raises her voice just a little bit, enough to be heard.

“It is my fault.”

It has everyone else falling completely still, and every pair of eyes landing on her with some level of shock or surprise.

“What do you mean?” Jake asks, and Neytiri simply points to Spider’s lashing tail and held back ears. His wide eyes with pupils shrunken to pinpricks.

“This, the boy’s fear, his transformation,” she says, and she pauses, as if a realisation has fallen over her. “It is my fault, because of my words.”

“Love,” Jake says, taking her shoulders and gently turning her so that she’s facing him. As he does, Spider notices the glittering of tears clinging to her eyelids, and something feral snarls in his chest, something that says she doesn’t deserve to be sad because he’s the one in an animal body. “What do you mean, how could you have turned Spider into a tiger? I don’t think anyone has the capabilities to do such a thing, unless you’re a witch.”

“No,” Neytiri protests, shrugging off Jake’s hands and gesturing at Spider again. “It’s because of what I said to him, the cruelty I aimed at him with my own words. He must have– the Great Mother took them to heart, and turned him into something we’d have to accept in order for it to survive.”

The line of Jake’s shoulders tense, although it’s not from anger. More anguish, because Spider knows he’s the person who wants everyone to get along. Because he straddles the divide between humans and Na’vi just like Spider does.

“What did you say to him?” Jake asks, his voice heavy and shoulders rounding down again. “Can it be easily fixed? Like, with a hug or something?”

“Now that’s just stupid,” Norm cuts in, although all three older kids snap their heads around to hush him.

“I need to talk with him,” she replies quietly, “alone if possible.”

Spider growls as menacing as he can, displaying the row of small but sharp fangs taking residence in his mouth. And although the situation is tense, he hears Tuk’s small giggle anyway.

“That might not be possible,” Neteyam says, trailing off at the look Jake aims at him. He raises his hands slightly, as if to dissuade the blame, and his head turns again to Neytiri.

“Are you alright if we stay?” he asks quietly, and Spider growls again, because he should be asking him that, not Neytiri. His tail lashes behind him at Jake’s eyes falling on him again, at the question of, “Are you alright with that Spider?”

He holds still for a few moments, considering.

But then he’s unable to see any disadvantage to having them there, so he chuffs quietly, and closes his lips over his fangs. Lets his tail settle and pushes up from his crouching position. And although he puts on a certain sort of air, he’s still trembling slightly. Although it’s more from trepidation than fear. And he inches backwards just a little bit.

“I-I’m sorry,” Neytiri says once she’s settled, crouching next to the edge of the table with her face level with Spider’s. He displays her claws to her in such a way that translates his disbelief, and she laughs quietly. “I know, it is a bit pathetic. But I don’t know what else to start with.”

Spider turns away from her in disgust, snorting through his nose and curling his tail around his front paws. The kids giggle quietly at his irritation, and he growls at them quietly.

“I could also use the day it was as an excuse as well,” she says, and Spider’s growl hitches just a little bit in volume. “But that wouldn’t be right either, because it only served to exasperate my words, and have them come out raw and unfiltered.”

Spider’s eyes go wide, and he whines quietly. At the same time, Neytiri’s ears droop ever so slightly, and her head bows in regret.

“Part of me does believe what I said,” she tells him, and Spider feels his entire body slump towards the metal table. His ears falling flat as well. “And I am ashamed of that fact. I do not understand the reason behind my vitriol towards you, and for that I am truly sorry.”

A trading of looks occurs behind her, one that Spider is privy to but not its understanding. He’s tempted to growl at Norm and Max too, but then Neytiri’s next words overtake his entire attention.

“You are worthy of taking the iknimiya, your species and abilities do not procure you for doing so,” she tells him sternly, “and of course you are one of us. You might be more Na’vi than even my Jake. I was not looking hard enough to see it. And for that too, I am sorry.”

Who splutters loudly where he stands, watching them. Neytiri leans forward a little bit more, enough to curl her arm around Spider’s form. But she doesn’t touch him. Because she knows they’re not quite there yet, and he lies himself down on the metal table just a little bit more. Enough so that his small breaths ruffle the tiny hairs on her head.

And that he can gently and carefully lick her forehead with his barbed tongue. As a small gesture of forgiveness, because he feels he won’t be able to do much more in this form.

But her eyes well with tears again, and Spider panics for a moment, thinking he’s done the wrong thing.

And then her arms are bringing him closer to her chest, and he knows now not to scramble when it comes to a hug. Her embrace cracks the tense atmosphere in two, and suddenly the other four kids are dashing forward for a hug - which isn’t really appreciated, but Spider suffers through it anyway.

(Which is a boldfaced lie, and he’d never admit that to anyone.)

He leans into their heat and comforting hands, chuffing loudly and giving every bit of blue skin he can reach a lick. Which has everyone giggling because of his tongue, but he doesn’t really care. Spider is warm, and comfortable, and completely at home in this form, even if it’s not the one he’s used to.

And although he knows that the animosity (ha!) between him and Neytiri is far from fully mended, at least now they’ve taken the first step towards something better. He’s not sure yet, but he bets by Eywa’s will that it’ll reveal itself in due time.

For now, he basks in the massive group hug surrounding him, and looks forward to a day filled with play.

And if he wakes up tomorrow to his human body and the sense of dread lifted from his shoulders, then he couldn’t ask for anything more.

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