#Tyreen Calypso PoV

[z3d-zd]

Ms paint obligatory shitty art time

[mauserfrau]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Borderlands (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Troy Calypso/Tyreen Calypso Characters: Troy Calypso, Tyreen Calypso Additional Tags: Troy Calypso POV, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, PWP, animal lingerie,  the usual, The Troyreen Will Continue Until I Get Bored Summary:

Troy + (Tyreen / [Kitty Lingerie x Remote Butt Plug]) = “I’m gonna kill you!”

[ramza-beoulverit]

Troy and Tyreen POVs, anyone? Another set of commissions for the wonderful @mauserfrau for some very fun Calypso banners!

Commissions are still open! Seeing as how this is my only form of income right now, reblogs, tips and commissions are fantastic. Thank you guys so much!

Should I start a Patreon? What do ya'll think?

Instagram | Twitter | Kofi

[border-spam]

Twins content masterlist

Collection of asks, shorts, and fics that are twin focused and attempt to be canonical. All HCs and fics are part of my Leech Lord AU unless specifically noted.

Spicy content near the bottom.

All HC’s filter : Here Leech Lord filter: Here Full Tumblr Leech Lord archive : Here AO3 all fics + Leech Lord masterlist : Here

Curated list below ( only some posts are listed, see archive for all LL posts )

My BL3verse AU cheetsheet:

Troy deepdive with canonical differences

Tyreen deepdive with canonical differences

Seifa deepdive

Jak-Knife backstory leading to becoming Troy’s bodyguard

The Leech deepdive and Siren differences from canon

Seifa’s relationship with the Twins

Sei and twins early days

Troy timeline breakdown

Tyreen HCs

Leda HCs

COV internal structure

Leech Siren power split functionality, and health/mental affect on the twins

Prosthetic / Bracer ego HCs

AU snippets

Fics and shorts:

Heretic (Not Leech Lord AU):

AU, Troy is denounced by the God Queen, drags himself to her enemies out of spite.

Link

Adventure:

The twins explore Eridian runes on Nekrotafeyo, Tyreen eager to prove to her father that they are adventurers too.

Link

Playing Along:

Their parents realised something was wrong far before the twins ever did, and tried their best to keep Troy innocent of how cruel life would be for as long as they could.

Link

Starlight, Moonbright:

Tyreen remembers some advice their mother had given them a long time ago when things were good, before everything fell apart, about who will always be there for her.

Link

Chronic:

The twins weren’t born on Pandora and the planet’s climate wreaks havoc on Troy’s already compromised health.

Link

DeLeon:

GoreWarning: Troy killed his past self the day he became God King Calypso, but some things don’t stay dead, no matter how much you wish they would.

Link

Troy Calypso’s very nice good time night:

With Tyreen handling an off world merger, Troy has a full day ahead of him where no appearances need to be made, all stream uploads are queued and ready to go, and he can stay offline and in the privacy of his ship for 24 hours. Comfort fic from Troy’s POV focusing on some of the aspects of the man behind the God King persona, and the twin’s underlying relationship.

Link

Monster:

ChildDeathWarning - A horrific encounter while live streaming a raid leaves Tyreen choking on memories she’s spent a decade trying to forget.

Link

Wolf in sheep’s clothing:

Tyreen makes the mistake of insulting Troy in front of his editing crew, lashing out after a hard night. He gives her some uncomfortable truths about her perceived superiority.

Link

Socialite:

Katagawa Jr hosts a gala he’s reluctantly invited the Twin Gods to due to their business relationship. Planning on using them as unwitting “entertainment” for the night, he’s not quite prepared to be outdone at his own game.

Link It takes two:

Troy is just as bad as his sister when it comes to lashing out at the only other person in his life he cares about.

Link Open Book:

He can never bluff around her, she can read him so easy. Dumbass.

Link Maw:

Troy inspects his latest body modification prior to a planned reveal to his followers in a horrific LetsFlay, and considers how heavy the price he’s paid to change his appearance may really be. He's crafted his body into a monster, and sacrificed another fragment of his dwindling humanity to do so.

Link Wolf in wolf’s clothing (Not Leech Lord AU):

Ariana Serino is a relatively new edition to the COV media department's editing team headed by the Holy Father. Hanging late in the editing room after avoiding her assigned dayshift leads her to find out why no one else ever seems to stay after hours.

Past midnight is when Troy likes to work.

Link It comes before a fall:

God King Calypso makes a personal visit alongside his vanguard convoy to one of the last remaining towns not aligned with the COV, he knows he can either make an offer they can't refuse, or threaten less beneficial means to gain their fealty. However, he was expecting Bandits, not regular people just trying to survive on a planet that isn't very kind to the innocent.

Link

Sigil:

Troy struggles to convince Seifa that the Saint brand isn’t a form of ownership. She strongly disagrees.

Link Vulnerability:

Seifa refuses to accept she’s sicker than she wants to admit, an ooc and fed up Troy lays down some hard truths, and some comfort.

Link Brother:

Jak-Knife and Sei have one of their first close conversations, worried over the red flags both are seeing in the behavior of the twins as the demands of the COV begin to overwhelm them in ways only their inner circle would notice.

Link

Family:

Years pass and JK and Sei spend another night in conversation, a night away from the stresses of their positions.

Link

Bonus HCs:

Troy HCS

Troy Early COV - Spicy

Troy Late COV (mono relationship) - Spicy

Sharkweek - Spicy

Aggressive God King NSFW - Note trigger warnings

Twins positive sibling bonding

Twins/Seifa health HCS

Seifa + other OC interactions outside AU

 Always eager to hear feedback on any short, and currently:

Asks are Open!

[borderlandsthirst]

Song of Sisterhood part 2

Seeing Lilith without her markings was the first hint that tipped her off that the Calypso twins were more dangerous than she thought, but that didn’t deter her from fighting, their followers were easy to take care of, some of them were tougher than most, but with the help of the new vault hunters it was no problem at all.

She lost friends along the way though, Maya, one of her siren sisters, lost her life at the hands of another, because of some child who had no business being there. The anger might have got the better of her, but there was no time to dwell on it, Eden-6 needed help, and she had friends there.

The fight for the vaults led her from one planet to another, when she was on Athenas she felt like the arms of a mother were wrapping around her for the first time in years. She heard the song of siren Queen Dido, she couldn’t really focus on her words due to being shot at. But she whispered knowledge to her as she fought, about her reign as Queen, about the people of Athenas, about Nyriad, a woman who neither ever met but somehow knew.

Promethea, Athenas, Eden-6, even Nekrotafeyo, it all feels strange to her like the other planets she’s been on while in the Tediore military. And she knew why now, all the planets related to the Great Vault had the same aura, the same magnetic pull on her soul. She could hear them, all those who came before her, and the spirits of those who will come after.

It was the Pyre of Stars that spoke to her the most, a machine made by the Eridians themselves. A construct of genius and arrogance, the Eridians thought, without actually thinking.

And when it was time to fight Tyreen, it all came to a head, The Destroyer, Pandora, the whole truth of the Great Vault, the purpose behind the sirens. Tiora took it all in as she watched another siren sister leave her side. It was almost too much to take, losing four siren siblings back-to-back like that, gaining a sister who was too young and inexperienced, and two other sirens she barely had a chance to bound with. Normal people wouldn't get it, they wouldn’t understand why that hurt so much, they couldn’t. But even though Tiora was distressed, she had Tannis and Amara, Ava would have to grow on her, a lot.  

Everyone has a rough journey through life, sirens just seem to have it worst, no matter how they start off, it always led to tragedy, but in one way or another. They all found their way to the sisterhood, even if it was under unpleasant circumstances. Even if their songs were silenced, another will play it in due time.

DONE!! Tiora’s pov of the events of BL3 and her experience with the song of the sirens. It’s a beautiful but dangerous song to listen to. 

[doom-dreaming]

Ash’s Ever-Growing Calypso Playlist

Ehhhh I figured since everyone else is putting playlists together I might as well, too, right? Right. It’s something I inevitably do anyway with favorite characters.

So! I’ll list ‘em, link ‘em (but of course you can look them up yourselves on whatever streaming services you like best), and give a little explanation for each. There’s a lot of Halsey on this list, she has very evocative songs. Note that these are just songs that I haven’t seen on any of the other playlists floating around for the twins.

Under the cut ‘cause it got long. Enjoy~

Halsey “Young God” - NSFW (mentions sex); the way I see this one is a cultist relaying back the things that the twins have said in various contexts and semi-contemplating the legitimacy of their divinity. The second verse in particular is very Troy to me.

Sarah Fimm “Guardian” - twins solidarity; angst about the state of their existence when you strip away the bravado and the facade; mostly Tyreen speaking to/about Troy - going on the idea that she’s his life support. “About this place we’re in / it isn’t Eden. / There are times in life / when we just crumble.” (You may have to look up lyrics for some parts, I know I did.)

Kesha “Blow” - don’t let the dance beat fool you! The lyrics are really pretty sinister. Sounds like a hostile takeover. Especially if you listen to the deconstructed version, which sounds much angrier (there’s a single ‘fuck’ dropped in this version). This one’s pretty self-explanatory as far as the twins are concerned. “Drink that kool-aid, follow my lead / now you’re one of us / you’re comin’ with me.” “Tonight, we’re takin’ over / no one’s getting out.”

Halsey “Castle” - Tyreen’s POV (”they wanna make me their queen” - hello??), being aware of the risks that fame and godhood bring, but fighting her way to the top. The choir at the start of the chorus is a nice religious tie-in. As for who the “old man sitting on the throne” is? That’s up to you. Katagawa? The shadow and legacy that Jack left behind? Someone else?

Halsey “Nightmare” -  swearing; in addition to being relevant to current struggles this one is for Tyreen, especially as she was growing up and coming into her power and being underestimated and taken advantage of and just....getting more and more determined to fuck shit up. “Stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters / collected the pieces and picked out a dagger.” “No, I won’t smile but I’ll show you my teeth.” “But I’m glad to be / a real nightmare / so save me your prayers.”

Florence + the Machine “Bedroom Hymns” - kinda NSFW (heavily-implied/metaphored sex); okay this one is mostly self-indulgent regarding Troy, I don’t think I need much more explanation.

Imagine Dragons “Natural” - Troy-centric; but covers both of them and the darker side to their whole operation. “Will heaven step in / will it save us from our sin?” “Rather be the hunter than the prey.” “Yeah, you’re a natural / livin’ your life cutthroat / you gotta be so cold--” “Took an oath by / the blood of my hand / won’t break it. / I can taste it / the end is upon us, I swear / Gonna make it...”

Imagine Dragons “Believer” - cult followers’ POV, praising the twins? I can’t really pin down a clear narrative for this one, but it’s got that vibe. Could also be from Troy’s POV - as a young adult (a younger adult than he is now) at the turning point where he really buys into what Tyreen is trying to do as the cult gains traction. “Last things last / by the grace of the fire and the flames / You’re the face of the future / the blood in my veins...” “Oh, let the bullets fly, / oh, let them rain...”

Ellie Goulding “Army” - one ‘fuck’ in the first verse; this one is softer, more sibling bonding; the lines kind of switch between who’s addressing whom, but in general, the first verse is Tyreen to Troy, second verse is Troy to Tyreen. “I know that we don’t look like much / but no one fucks it up like us.” “We both know what they say ‘bout us / but they don’t stand a chance because / When I’m with you / I’m standing with an army.”

Moon Taxi “Not Too Late” - I just really like this song, guys more sibling bonding, maybe a little indulgent in favor of softer twins; looking back on younger years when they had lighter dreams, now feeling kind of roped into the whole cult thing - maybe going on that theory where they’re not the ones orchestrating everything and they’re feeling trapped by whoever’s pulling the strings. “We lived like we would never wake up / from the dream that we shared / just the two of us. / But now we’re tied up, bad luck / never gonna make our minds up / worn out and restless / so I wish that we could escape.”

Imagine Dragons “Monster” - TROY, this is so very Troy; him standing in the shadow of his sister; this also goes along with the idea that he’s becoming some sort of twisted creature, influenced by whatever’s really behind the cult... “If I told you what I was / would you turn your back on me? / And if I seem dangerous / would you be scared? / I get the feeling just because / everything I touch isn’t dark enough / that this problem lies in me...” “I never said that I want this / this burden came to me / and it’s made its home inside...”

So there you have it! Those are the highlights! Feel free to keep sending me suggestions, I love new music!

[mauserfrau]

Not Rhack Wednesdays! On Thursday [5]

Not that there’s anything wrong with Rhack, but variety is the spice of life!

It’s that time again already! And goodness, have we got a Valentine’s special for everybody.  ...of course I personally just ended up posting more “Eyeshine” (a/k/a the Calypso Equations).  I’ve got two more uploads to go one that and I’m finally done.  I think.  It’s actually been drafted since October, but I’ll talk more about the holdup when I get there. [All tags now in effect, so please read them]

Onto something seasonally appropriate! “A Jolly Good Breakfast In Bed” by @ MichellesPenScratchz ! This was actually one of the earlier Borderlands one shots I read.  It’s so u absolutely charming! And I don’t know about the audience, but it certainly made me hungry for things that don’t exist, but anyway.  Really feel like this captured the spirit and joy that is Wainlock.  

But that’s not all! “Friends to Fire” is back as “Tales of the Risky Venture Launch”! I’m so excited for this. The Tales gang carrying on between Tales and 3? Absolutely.  With Rhysha, of COURSE. 

And oh goodness, I know this one’s been making the rounds, but did you get a looksee at “The Coronation of Tyreen Calypso” by darkmagicdrag0n ?  You know, something I really enjoy about fanfiction is seeing other people use their magic to fill in important moments that aren’t included in a piece of fiction, and this sure hits that spot with some very cool aesthetics too.  

If you’d like your fic featured on Not Rhack Wednesdays On Thursday, the only requirement is that it not be Rhack.  Calypso Twins angst is not required, but a plus.  Give me a jingle or @ me or whatever works for you.

My fantastic splash image is brought to you by @kingcharon​ whose commissions are open right now if you want one of your own.

[mauserfrau]

Not Rhack Wednesdays! On Thursday

Not that there’s anything wrong with Rhack, but variety is the spice of life! Delayed slightly because I’m slammed at work this time of year annnnnd I forgot that just like I did last year, the year before that.  

New this week for your enjoyment is Sampaguita Chapter 4.  Just like it says in the update caption, I think I set a new record for bodily functions mentioned in a Tyreen PoV fic installment.  So, be careful of that, but if you don’t mind finding out in no uncertain terms what happened on the day she lost her ability to eat, you also get an overview of her longing for Pandora and how it’s impacted her life up to this point (i.e. Catter) (more Catter in Chapter 5, BTW!).

Also updated, People Like Us Chapter 13 by @raidbossmadi​! It’s basically the huge, meaty, badass installment we’ve all been waiting for and the end WILL knock your socks off.  I’m super excited to hear more about The Ranch, are you?

Anyway, if you’d like your fic featured on Not Rhack Wednesdays On Thursday, give me a jingle or @ me or whatever works for you.  I might be able to take a crack at fussing with something specific from my WiP pile too.  Thinking more “Sweetheart” and “Eyeshine” next week, btw.  

My fantastic splash image is brought to you by @kingcharon​ whose commissions are open right now if you want one of your own.

Also, I started a side blog for art if that’s your thing.  I do beadwork, resin casting and maybe some drawing if I ever pluck up the courage to show one of my scribbles.  

[mauserfrau]

Bordertober - Time For Two, Part 1

Tyreen’s view of waking up at Dr. Black’s.  Contains medical/injury material, Tyreen being gross and some vaguely hinted at Troyreen.  Note that Part 2 is shaping up to be more obvious about this.  Probably nothing graphic, since I’m planning to recut all of the Dr. Black shorts into a single story.  Oh, and I put her H/C post at the bottom.

Waking up at Dr. Black’s had been embarrassing more than anything else.  She’d had no idea where she was the first few times she came around.  There were now two holes in her torso and two in her right arms.  She couldn’t do anything for herself. Ugh-- that part was the worst.  Troy gave her a bath with fucking people wipes.  She got sacks full of doped up skag pups and chickens for food.  She did not get to toilet herself.  Nope, stuck in bed except for leg stretches twice a day, no complaints, ring the bell if you need anything. 

And then that woman, leaning over her, poking her with clamps and sounds because she couldn’t use her hands.  Well, it took the fever rolling off of her for Tyreen to take notice of it, but Dr. Black seems to keep all of her dexterity in those fingers of hers.  The rest of her had some mild form of dyskinesia, probably an old injury pretty far down her spine.  It happened to make her look like easy prey, but Tyreen figurds not devouring the person who procured her pain meds might work out better in the long run.

Meds meaning she slept a lot.  Actually, Tyreen wasn’t sure that she’d ever slept so much in her whole life.  She spent most of the days under for a few restless hours at dawn or dusk spent ticking over a third-hand ECHO and feeling her guts lurch at random as the moon smirked down the operating theater skylight.  She made it to the bottom of a music swapping forum she’d been eyeing and listened to old school synth jazz while reading Vonnegut or something called “Pirate AU Fanfiction” which she didn’t realize was derivative until she found the one starring Arthur Gordon Pym of all characters.

So it wasn’t like she was bored.  Hell, the weird thrum of her body knitting back together could have kept her occupied.

The stillness in her bones though ached worse than her bullet wound.

Tyreen sighed.  She ran her hand down her torso to the sore, bruised place trailing off from her entry wound.  She pressed ever so lightly until her belly twinged and her toes curled.

This didn’t so much remind her of the fact she was going to be wearing a lovely S&S Munitions bullet for the rest of her life.  It reminded her of that other itch she couldn’t scratch, the one that was going to take talking instead of prowling to fix.

~*~

Dr. Black at least took hints.  Tyreen bitched at her about being woken up closer to noon than not exactly once.  Next time? Dawn hadn’t even cracked

She got her vitals taken and her bandages changed.  The IV came out and that was the only blood that leaked out of her that day.  Her wrappings still got all sticky and rheumy, but they weren’t brown anymore in that way that kind of made her want to suck on them.

So, a lot of next times later, it finally happened: “Well, you’re healing up nicely if I do say so myself.  What do you want to do first?”

Weird.  Tyreen never asked Troy what he wanted to do when he started improving after a spell or a fall.  She squinted at Dr. Black.  “Is that a trick question?”

“Well, I don’t recommend BASE jumping for obvious reasons, but no?” Not that Dr. Black sounded sure of this.

“I need my hair washed.  That dry shampoo made it all sandy and shit.  Then I wanna go outside and, you know.”

“I’m out of chickens, sorry.”

Tyreen rolled her eyes.  She’d actually meant piss on a fence post and scope out the best vantages for ambushes, but she was getting hungry too, so of course the woman had to mention.  “Whatever.  Hair first.”

“Well, your brother and me already figured out how to do that since you’re still not cleared to shower because germ transfer.  Get ready.”

The two of them maneuvered her onto one of the rolling stools and pushed her into the kitchen rather than any of the bathrooms-- for a woman living alone, Dr. Black had at least three according to her hallway.

Tyreen’s impression of the kitchen was what it smelled of some unfamiliar grassy-brown spice and eggs.  Most food didn’t tempt her anymore, but there was something about the whiff of a runny yolk that got her tongue to stir.  Anyway, the stainless steel sink had been scrubbed out and Tyreen knew where this was going.  She groaned.

She’d been all of four the last time anybody washed her hair for her, let alone in a sink.  Sink salons were for babies.

Troy’s hand rested on her shoulder.  “It’s just for a couple of times.  What else have I been doing for you? And did the world end, Ty?”

“Fine.  I want two washes and extra gooey stuff.” She meant conditioner, but she flicked her tongue over her lips pronouncing it gooey stuff like a drunk her.

Troy blinked way too hard, but he nodded and finished wheeling her over.

So much for innuendo getting her anyplace today.  He was probably stuck in his own head for a change.  Contemplating caring for her.  Like it was… like it was that big of a deal after all the trash that had happened.   

Just like when they worked on her, Dr. Black handed over the equipment and he used it, though this time, easy on the instructions.  

Troy bundled her up in a towel, wet her and worked the first round of shampoo in slow, scratching over the residue on her scalp and using the dish sprayer to double rinse.  The whole time he leaned over her, face tight with concentration.  He wouldn’t look her in the eyes and Tyreen couldn’t say she wanted him too, not even when he went for the wet/dry trimmer and neatened up her unintentional undercut.

“You want anymore off?” he asked the window and not her.

“Just get the really messed up part in the back.”

“OK, turn.”

The hum of the trimmer felt kind of nice on her damp skin; that and the way he combed his fingers over her fuzz after, even though the next spritz got her free of snibbles, would have without his intervention.

For the conditioner, he let that set and combed her out, streaking the remains of her bangs down her forehead, then rubbing them away from her eyebrows when they got too close.   

Tyreen sighed up at him.

Since she caught his eyes, he did manage something resembling a smile and his fingers dragged against her for the last round of rinsing.

With him and her both patted dry, she finally got hoisted back to a sitting position, her hair dropping once more down her cheeks before she reached up, scruffing it out and sneezing by some coincidence.

Dr. Black stifled a laugh.

Dr. Black

Dr. Black was a small, fat woman with a crooked jaw and a crooked smile and a penchant for wearing hoop skirts with no panties underneath. 

-Says her full name is Calvin Decker Black

-Has at least one ex-husband and is possibly using his name???

-Probably not a doctor, but close enough

-Good at working with what she has; absolute kludge queen

--Has an affection for out-of-date equipment, but can run almost any test off of her ECHO.  Somehow.  Don’t ask. ---Speaking of which, carries the Twin’s genomes around on hers and has heavily notated them.  Heaven forbid that got into the wrong hands.

---Recognizable ECHO device with a formal Delft print

--Sometimes uses medical equipment for secondary purposes, i.e. pointing with a sound, employing that nice steel vomit tray as a casserole

-Cheerful, enthusiastic, curious, bit of a spazz, insensible to gore.

--It’s possible to get her and Mouthpiece going at the same time.  Mind your eardrums.  

-Loves food.  Pretty good cook.  Rather more fond of food other people have prepared.

-No, she doesn’t eat her patients! Any human flesh stored in her fridge is from other people, you silly.

--Yeah, I can’t in good conscience recommend her ‘famous breakfast scramble’.

-What’s she doing in the CoV? She’s the person who walked Troy through patching up Tyreen after Satellite.  They couldn’t leave her running around after that.  Apparently joined their caravan without complaint and has been riding around with them ever since.  

-Has been known to dress up and give sermons or go out in the field for negotiations.  

--Ugh.  Torture takes so long.  Don’t make her do that.  We could have steak instead.  

-Is mostly still around for Troy mending purposes nowadays.

[mauserfrau]

Spiraling To Meet Me - Bordertober

Tonight: Tyreen v. other people.  Framed as her dealing with massive spoilers from Satellite.  Contains: blood, gore, death, referenced suicide, medical stuff and... [see tags]

The first person she ever met, she killed.

He was dying.  There wasn’t anything she could do to save him.  He went into her as a flash of syrup and heat.  She’s never been sure how she recognized him as a he in the brief moment she knew him through her mother’s skin.

He left her dizzy with delight as she sprawled there in Leda’s sandy glass remains and the air coral rattled against the rift of sky in the temple roof.

Troy, too stunned and hurt to cry, rattled too.

*

She told Dad: “I didn’t mean to!”

It was kind of true.  She didn’t mean all of it.  Mama was dying, same as a manta gored in a trap.

That part, she meant.

The little fish just hadn’t realized Leda was dead.  Tyreen got him with the rest.

She hadn’t had any idea before he evaporated in her leech.  

*

Nobody else realized.  There was no crystal clump of sand that gave away what Tyreen had done.  Or if there was, no one noticed while they carried Mama out of temple in buckets and bottles.  She never saw it, anyway.  She just climbed up the toppled stones along the path that one more time, remembering not to eat the very small larvae and worms because they could still become big things, and then there could be more.

She also still licked her lips when she thought about him.  Maybe she couldn’t have touched him, but she could have heard him, seen him, smelled him when he was just born and still wet.

Instead she ate him and he was gone except for this vague sense memory that crawled around on her tongue and the bottom of her own belly.

*

She didn’t stay away from the grave like Dad.  Mama wasn’t there.

She didn’t go to the grave after midnight like Troy.  Troy said Mama wasn’t there.

Sometimes when the storms roiled over the valley, she listened the air coral shuddering in the wind.  Her mouth watered and she balled her marked hand into a fist.  

Having another baby wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.  No, that was clearly her trying to prove as much to herself reading books out of the medical suite that made her blush and cringe.

She was supposed to be stronger than blushing and cringing.

She realized though that she might have been biased when it came to what was and was not awful about pregnancy.  She had never not eaten for two.

*

She wouldn’t say she met anybody from her family.  They were always just there, until Mama wasn’t.  Dad tasted rich, Mama stale as recycled air.  Troy held no flavor or sensation outside of his bone-leaf skin and skittering pulse.  

Oh, she tried to eat him too.  Just once with any seriousness.  What if all of her brothers tasted that delicious? 

Tyreen wrapped her arms and her leech around him, pouring herself against his body and begging him to slosh back, fill her instead of the other way around.  

Instead, she drained into him, slow and crystal damp, even though she hardly had enough to share.

“It’s OK,” he told her, gently scratching at her fingers.  “We can go outside again soon.  You won’t have to be hungry.”

Back on the couch, Dad laughed at something on his old video screen.  

*

Troy had put on one of the old, airy tracks that Mama had liked to play after dark in the summer.  He was trying to sing with it and maybe Tyreen had tried a little bit too.  At least, she was whistling along under her breath when— 

“Boy, you shut that off!” And a crash so sharp and musical Tyreen thought at first it must have come from the speakers.

She peered into the front room to find Troy rattling against the wall.  One of the good drinking glasses oozed down the wall.  

Tyreen cleaned it up without complaining and Troy vanished, same as the liquor vapors.

*

She put her marked hand down beside Dad’s head.

He startled awake, stared up at her, tried to smile.

“Throw anything at Troy again I’ll do to you what I did to Mama.”

She doesn’t remember what he said to her, besides calling her Starlight.  That might have been all it was in the end.

Tyreen stalked off.  Her heart slammed in her chest and her joints felt all slippery.

It had taken her days to decide to say anything.  It wasn’t on impulse like hunting or dodging or staying up way too late watching video clips of little fish fetuses kick.  

She guessed she just didn’t care about Troy in that particular impulsive way what would have let her subsume him.  It wasn’t like he was any good at hunting, after all.

When she got to Mama’s grave, she spit up and coughed.  She didn’t cry.  Crying was dumb.

Nobody followed her to ask if she’d shed anymore teeth or eaten anymore brothers.

And they wouldn’t know any of those things unless she told them.

*

Years passed before the one time she almost did.  Troy was in a bad way, feverish and unsteady on his feet.  She half-carried him to the bathhouse and heated the water up as high as it would go while she stripped him since he couldn’t seem to get his clothes off himself.  They climbed into the water together and talked about Keats for a while.  He said she looked different.  Tyreen laughed at him for taking so long to notice.  Then she untied his hair and pressed him against her chest, both of their hearts cranking in the swell of warmth from the water.  She rested her hand on his empty shoulder as his breath tickled her skin.

“You ever get lonely?” she asked.  It seemed like it might be kind of an OK leadup.

“Yeah,” he answered.  “I don’t even know what I’d do with another person ‘round here.  How about you?”

“Me? What? No.  No of course not.”

The next part should have been I’m stuck with you, aren’t I?

But Tyreen said nothing.

*

The second person she met, she killed.

And the third.

And the fourth.

And all the rest.  There were nine Maliwan researches altogether and Troy only got one, the one that grabbed him.  The guy looked like he was feeling Troy up to Tyreen.  Mostly, he pissed her off.

She wouldn’t have liked to have eaten him .  Instead, she sang through the rest, sucking them down.  The living bruise underneath her skin had them in gushes of fear and the kissed-out brightness of their wonder.  Some were savory, others liquid tart.  When they were all gone, she twisted on the toes of her boots and went down.

The rain stirred over her and the mud.  She thrilled with what she’d gotten from them, flavors and memories of screams and not wanting so hard her mouth water.  Actually, it was hardly damp, at least before Troy came around and tried to get her to stop laughing by tickling her feet— what a dumb thing to try, but it worked.

They knelt together in the rain, surrounded by strangeness and dead bodies made of sand.

*

It took hours to stash and secure their booty.  They could only carry so much at one time, so they took the silliest, prettiest things like rings and name tags and somebody’s pocket knife that wouldn’t have been useful for trimming even tiny pieces of air algae, but it was new.

They hiked back over storm-slippery stones, hardly five sentences between them on the way.

It was when the lucernae on Mama’s grave came into view that the slippery twinge surfaced in her joints.  Tyreen paused, scenting the air out of instinct.  There was only home and water.  Her hand went to her neck and she sighed.

No, something else fought to surface.  Probably just her hunger returning.

She wondered, if only for a moment: what if she hadn’t eaten the intruders? What would she be doing now?

Talking or waiting or something.  She wouldn’t have a new pocketknife.

*

Tyreen set the imaging equipment to warm up.  Troy had taken a sharp blow to the belly and they needed to make sure nothing in him had popped.

The control console had broken a long time ago, and they’d patched the general computer in with some old optical cable.  That meant that anything they tried to read out of the databanks and not existed would show.

Tyreen realized she’d been the last person in the medical suit and she’d left a rather gruesome birth video cued up. 

Troy, leaning sideways on the table said though, “Oh.  My bad.  I was just thinking about...” He yawns.  “Stuff.”

“Yeah? I mean, whatever.  It’s a thing that happens, right, killer?” And she laughs, trying to stifle the crash in her heart.

*

The third or fourth person she meets on Pandora is a barkeeper who asks her name and how she takes her whiskey.  Tyreen  sits at the side of the bar, dazed and trying not to smile.  She’s pretty sure the whiskey she gets isn’t whiskey at all.  Anyway, it doesn’t smell like Dad’s, but it is in a real glass lowball and it makes her lips sting.

She thinks she should wait for Troy to get out of the can, but if she takes a sip herself he can’t ask her to toast.

She drums her fingers on the fine chips along the bottom and remembers.

“Yes?” says the bartender.

“Huh? Yes, what?”

“You look like you’re a million miles away.”

Tyreen cranes her head to the side.  That’s a Troy question.  Not a... random person question.

Right?

Right.

Besides, then she has to go and add, “Haven’t named the little guy yet.” She jerks her thumb to the calico bundle in an old apple crate.  “Was gonna wait till he turns three months.  Never know around here.  But hey, now I never have to be lonely again.” She laughs.

Tyreen presses her fists to her knees.  She will not blush.  She will not cry.  She won’t say yes of course that’s what it is, because it is a flickering tender place.

Part of her wants to eat this woman and her son.

But it takes more of her self-control than she’d like just to keep her face steady, just to think.  “Oh, I get it.”

Fuck.

Tyreen smiles.

“Does he like music? I could go for some tunes.”

“Sure.  What kind?”

“After dark in the summer.”

Apparently, that’s a fine enough answer.  Troy comes back to the bar to find her gone in her glass and a softly thudding baseline.

[mauserfrau]

Rough Excerpt of Sampaguita, Chapter 3 - Bordertober

I had someone who clearly needed a full, tagged scene with OC Catter, so here you be!

Here is the story so far.  LSS: Tyreen and Troy have a brief stint as mercs not that long after arriving on Pandora.  NOTE THE TAGS.  Black comedy.  On slow mode for Reasons.  Tyreen PoV.

This excerpt contains Tyreen being gross, a lot of food, drinking, snot, Troy torment and, a really crass joke about the Troyreen in this ‘verse.

Also Catter.  I stinking love Catter.

...I’m not sorry.

Troy sat under a smokey overhang by the kitchen trailer.  Three other people had planted their asses there first, all bumming cigarettes off of each other and sneezing a lot— Biscuits (his biscuitiness accented by lop-mouthed smoking stance), Vincent (tall, dark, handsome and gesturing ashes all over with his silver cigarette holder) and somebody who went by Lotty (more of a human pony bead and spray tan accident).

There was beef jerky.  Sort of.  Not enough of it to justify more than a page of the Exceptional Exotics’ employment contracts.  

Lotty was saying, holding a tin stickered with a happy cowboy up to Troy, “Now, the correct way to eat beef snuff…”

 “Also known as machaca, if you’re feeling fancy,” Vincent interrupted.  

And Troy nodded. 

This pattern repeated: “Is to, well, snuff it.  You put a little on your finger.”

“The middle, if you’re feeling fancy.”

Though Troy’s nod came on the tentative side that time.  Wrinkles showed in the corners of his eyes as he pondered whether he was fancy or not.  

Biscuits leaned in, pressing an encouraging hand to Troy’s back, Troy being too lost in thought to protest more than leaning maybe an inch to the side.  “It’s not like doing cocaine at all.  And you really have to really suck it in…” A wet snort accompanied this assertion. “… from deeeeep in your chest.”

“The trick’s in where you put the back of your tongue.” Lotty said, their voice tilting towards some sort of conclusion.

This being stolen from them by Vincent, “But oh, the joy of meat sinuses.”

“You would say that.”

“You know you love me.”

“I love you like the parched earth loves spilled beer.”

“So, not at all today.  Boo.”

It was at this point Tyreen tossed up the hood of her jacket and stamped across the puddles pissing down through the leaky rain shield.  “Troy!”

Troy having meanwhile swept his middle finger through the shredded jerky and right up to his nostrils.  Deftly, he pressed his thumb to the left side.  The shredded meat disappeared.

Tyreen was too late.  Troy doubled over, sneeze-coughing goopy, brown snot.  “I can taste that in my ears,” he wheezed.

“Really?” remarked Lotty.  “That’s a new one. Are you sure, ‘cause I mean, if you really wanna taste with your ears…” This sentiment unfinished, they lifted both of their hands, beckoning to Vincent and Biscuits.  The two men had already grumblingly taken out actual paper cash, what with the ECHONet still being toast.

And Troy, still hacking.  

Tyreen shooed off Biscuits and beat Troy about the back until he showed some semblance of sense— namely, horking with purpose until he was king of breathing again.  

“If you’re going to squeal to the boss,” Vincent said, sucking on his cigarette, “Get us some more jerky while you’re in there? I don’t want what he sneezed on.”

“On no planet was that a sneeze.  You don’t get it, man!” Troy protested.

“That’s a lie.  Lotty got him twice,” said Biscuits.

Well, that had to be embarrassing for somebody.

Unlike her brother, Tyreen did not stop to ponder and definitely not anything about snorting beef jerky.  “He brought this on himself.  That’s plenty for me.  C’mon.  They opened the beer taps.” One more thwack and she turned her hand around, grabbing Troy by the back of his jacket and hauling.

He pinwheeled half a step in front of her.  “I don’t even like beer and neither do you,” he muttered, then discharged more snot into his hand.

Besides, there was a line for said beer.  Someone had written on the tarp overhanging the taps: Welcome! No names though, just like nobody announced that food was served in some way that didn’t involve anybody’s noses.  At a certain point, Colonel Admusik stepped out of her trailer and made her way to a ktichen trailer window where a plate of something greasy, steaming and flickering oversized bones appeared.  She took her pick of seats at one of the rickety picnic tables, tucked a cloth napkin into her collar and sat down.  Two of the face-tattooed howitzer operators dived to offer her their beers before fighting their way back into line.

Tyreen wouldn’t have said she’d wanted announced, but the company seemed like a place that announced people.  Besides, an excuse to shoot something else would have wrung more laughter out of this crowd, maybe gotten her offered a beer.  Not that she could have drunk said beer.  Anyway, she got the angle now.  There were two ranks here: the colonel and all the other mercs.

So, apparently she and Troy were other mercs now.  Tyreen had not been aware that mercs served short ribs for food.   She was also unclear on exactly what a ‘short rib’ might entail.  Which ribs counted as short? Why not eat the long ribs first since they must contain more delicious meat? Was it absolutely necessary to stop an entire company of mercs in the middle of a downpour to set up a kitchen trailer and make a welcome dinner which was now doomed to get damp while the people who ate it veered into a risk of missing… something.  Whatever the hell job this “gentleperson’s operation” was on or headed for or somewhat towards.  

Tyreen didn’t know about that either.  She also hadn’t bothered to ask.  Closer to the urge worked for her.  She swung up to the window ahead of Troy.  “I heard something about rum rations.”

“Rum and short ribs?” The cookie gave her a squint, but shrugged and ponied up a quarter split with an orange slice and some soda machine ice.  “How many?”

“Ah, yeah, pass on that.  I don’t do bones.” Casting her hand up briefly, she removed herself from the window before facing anymore of an argument.  This dinner was going to suck hard enough without a plate of dead thing under her nose, teasing her with it’s infernal pre-deadedness.  Tyreen’s belly had already started to do the gurgling, twisty thing where the part of her that ate gathered there and tried to peek out of her navel.  At least she had rum and the urge to distract her until nightfall and the Skågåsbord that would bring.  They were still out there.  She could sense them flickering about the hills.

Then of course her brother had to go and acquire an overflowing plate of bones, his mashed potatoes relegated to a mug which he carried balanced on his elbow.  Tyreen got to the table first, cracking open her rum and slugging it right out of the bottle.  Sweet stuff, super dark.  Probably wouldn’t make her retch.  Her orange slice went on her brother’s potatoes once he’d gotten everything onto the table without incident.  He shrugged and ate it anyway, greasy garlic butter and skin and all, smiling at her with the rind pressed over his teeth.

Tyreen glowered at him.  She then flicked his nose and slid back to her drink, twisting it over and over as he chewed and more people got food and the shields leaked and the beer line got loud.  

Idly, she wondered what anybody would do if she gnawed on a bone.  Not that she was going to.  Bones made a fine justification for not eating this thing or that other thing, so no way she would.  She had that urge of her own though, sometimes after sunset and skimming on her tongue.

And Colonel Admusik only carried picnic tables that seated three to a side.  The far one of their table? Still empty when Hypothetical Third Person planted her ass beside Troy.  She made a chirp when she did, as though she had a squeaker in her ass.  

Tyreen peered around Troy.

And the person waved, fork on her lips.  She was smallish, fairish, made-up-ish, wearing a Dahl army coat three sizes too big for her.  Peroxide blond hair dragged in her eyes, themselves the color of moss.  The Terran kind that never accidentally made teeth like the stuff on Nekrotafeyo.

Troy managed to pull himself away from his plate long enough to tilt his head her way and jostle his occupied shoulder at her.  Like— hello, I am eating, other person who had at least ten other places to sit.

This one craned over her own plate and she stared out at him through his magazine cover kind of smile.  Finally, she gestured with one gloved hand, flicking her finger close enough to Troy’s left eye that she got a jolt out of him.  “So, who does your work?” she asked, words somersaulting over each other.  

Troy’s fork froze in mid-air.  “This? Oh, uum a few people.” Rather than look her quite in the face,  or stop eating, he wiggled his hand and dripped gravy.  “They didn’t come out so great the first time.”

“It wasn’t Miss Moju on Rigil 7, was it? ‘cause she’s getting hella sued and if you want in on that, I got the contact stuff for the lawyer on my ECHO.”

“Oh.  No, not her.  I didn’t even think about her.” Troy ended that on half a snort.

One Tyreen could have joined him for.

Except this person acted like she thought he’d laughed.  She tittered back.

And she totally cut Tyreen off, but that was another story.  With titters.

“Really? You must be pretty hardcore.” She held her hand out, slower than she’d talked, her hips wiggling in her seat.  Tyreen could hear her boots swishing under the table besides.  “I didn’t think about her either.  I’m Catter.  Colonel said you were Troy?”

Troy nodded.  He dipped his fork into his potatoes, leaving it there.  He had to twist his whole self sideways to offer her his wrong hand, but his joints were hyperflexible garbage and he only had the one hand to offer anybody, so he managed OK, tilted his head up too, not that he exactly made eye-contact.  “Yes.  It’s nice to meet you.  This is…”

Catter’s head, then her shoulders, tipped to the side.  She looked like she was trying to shed some part of herself, and in fact she kind of did.  The sleeve of her too-big coat nonetheless rode up about an inch on her left wrist.

Glinting geometric swirls poked out.

”Oopsie,” she said, holding her other hand almost to her mouth.

Tyreen made a face.  To cover that, she also stuck her rum in said face.  Smacking off of her bottle, she added, “You did that on purpose.  Just say you’re a fangirl next time, shit.  You think we care?” Anyway, she’d heard whispers in the alleys of the ECHONet, about how “pirate AU fanfiction isn’t valid, you weirdos” and also “my sister’s Siren fangirl for cosplays and it’s kind of fucked up”.

Well, Tyreen knew what fangirl and cosplay (an associated term) meant in the same way she knew what short ribs meant.  The terms raised more questions than answers.  But there was Catter.  Quod erat demonstrandum.  Also, no way this person was a Siren.  She smelled like some kind of plant and not a primeval space magic at all.  

“I thought we were having fun,” said Catter, finally breaking the shake with Troy and pressing a finger to her infernally perfect dimple.  “Is she always so grumpy?”

Troy’s back tensed as he answered, despite the evenness of his tone.  “Are you always so effervescent?”

One of those words earned him a confused blink, and another titter.  “ I…  What? Hee! I should have known you were different.  A guy with Siren ink.  That’s just so… I’m sorry.  I’ve never actually seen one! Or a Siren.  But I’m gonna fix that.” Catter turned a look of determination, first to the sky, and then to Troy.

“Ah, me neither.  And now you have.”

“So! So! I drew mine myself and I got a whole set, see?” Her coat went onto the table.  Two other mercs steered away, off to less occupied shores.  Underneath, she wore a sleeveless collar top and no bra.  Tyreen wasn’t wearing a bra either, so whatever on that, but the loopy tattoo business liberally slathered onto Catter’s person proved to be the single most gruesome shade of magenta that Tyreen had ever seen.  Like exploded printer magenta.

“And I see you like pink,” Troy offered, congenially.

Catter wiggled and drew closer once more.  She still did not touch, but her eyes traced over Troy’s own markings with a precision.  “Did you draw yours too? I know some places that’s a thing, but some other places you let your artist do…”

“I drew them,” said Tyreen.

A sound of distress followed.  “You didn’t give him a whole set?”

“Like you said.  He’s a guy.  Maybe he doesn’t get a whole set.  Maybe he has to earn them.”

“Wow, you two have like LORE worked out? Are you on SirenSona.net?”

“We like to keep it to ourselves.  It’s, umm our stuff,” Troy said, attempting to turn away, hand in his hair this time.

“Oh, am I intruding?  I’m sorry it’s just I love your eye mark and she…” Catter’s hand once more intruded, but this time she at least had the sense to apply to to her fork after she thought better.  It was with her off-hand that she gestured between her table mates.  “Actually, what are you two?”

Tyreen snorted.

And Troy said: “Oh, we’re cousins.” His grin flashed even in the corner of his silhouette.  He tried just that hard.  

So no wonder Tyreen had to fish him the rest of the way out of the proverbial ditch.  “And we’re married.” 

“What?” Catter’s eyes were now the size of SAT-V hubcaps.  “Really? That’s wild.” 

“Cousins are made for cousins, that’s what they said back at the old commune,” Troy laughed.  Wow, he almost sounded convincing.  

To Catter, anyway.  “So you like grew up together?”

“Yeah.”

“And now you do it?”

“Yes, Catter,” snergled Tyreen.  “That’s part of being married.  Do you wanna come mop up our bed tonight when we get done doing it?” She layered on the sincerity, as if plying for her personal dinner.  This had gotten old about five absurdities ago.

“Nooo.” As for how much no, Catter pressed one (still-gloved) finger to her lips.  “But anytime you wanna fanperson, we can do that.  Like you’re part of the team now and I want you to feel welcome and I’ve got that limited edition gravure with the Lilith buttshot.  The one where.  You know.  You can see.”

Tyreen and her brother both nodded, though Tyreen could only imagine what was on display.  If she’d had a human appetite, this might have been detrimental to it.

[Catter actually exists as an explanation for why the twins were managed to run around without covering their markings for APPARENT YEARS.  She is not a criticism of any Siren OC.  I love and feed Siren OCs ficlets.]

[mauserfrau]

Shrike, Part 1 - Bordertober

OK, Tumblr ate my cut five times in a row, so in the interests of not leaving dead rats all over your dashboards...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26889070/chapters/65610520

Troy and Tyreen give their idea of a sermon early in the CoV.  Things get weird.  Vaguely implied Troyreen.  Brace for incoming surreal violence [see: title].  Aforementioned dead rats.

[mauserfrau]

Shrike Parts 2 & 3 - Bordertober

It’s done!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26889070/chapters/65610520

Blood, gore, Tyreen eating people and a lot of other general grossness.

If you ever wanted to experience some of the awful stuff Tyreen talked about her followers doing, well, here’s your chance.

Can’t really say enjoy re: this one...

[mauserfrau]

Pleiades - Bordertober

How about something lighter tonight? Tyreen makes a delivery.  There’s booze involved for a change.

She gets the screwdriver they’re using to start the SAT-V off of Troy before he leaves for the night.  He smears his eye-makeup tells her not to wait up.  Tyreen could smack him.  She has no intention of waiting around at all.

It’s not like her and the mechanic are friends or anything, but he offered her a couple of extra bucks to run a package to somebody out in the hills: do it after dark and don’t ask questions.

Town’s down to drunks and streetlights.  Nobody’s even bothered to shoot anybody else the past couple of days, though there’s screaming at the doctor’s and it smells like blood.  

There won’t be anything for her there no matter what the damage is. 

The SAT-V starts after three tries.  She streaks down the dusty street and into the night.  

The stained cardboard box rattles in the hatch beside her stuff.  She tossed everything of hers back there in case their room gets robbed.  If Troy left his, that’s his problem.  He knows she needs to hunt and prowl and stalk.

Town shows a ragged edge, tossed together houses and old shipping crates with umbrellas outside scattering up the switchbacks.  Half stand dark and rusting, though that doesn’t mean they’re also empty.  It’s a long while before she runs out of lamp glare and the stars come out for real.  She thinks those are Pleiades turning in a clockwork loop along the horizon.

And that the silence wears on her.  Even the engine seems extra quiet.  She can’t hear anything bigger than a skag pup scuffling  in the sand.  She might as well be listening to an ocean sigh.  Like one on a recording or one that’s empty.

Her ECHO won’t to play music.  It sits there and chirps.  She only mows down a few pokealoes going off the road while she tells it that it’s a piece of junk. 

The “house on the hill” is almost really a house.  She drove up here expecting a shack or a hole in the dirt.  Somebody built this place out of cinder blocks and sheet metal.  They just did it a while ago and they haven’t been keeping after what she thinks was supposed to be a vegetable garden.  

She waits for the dust her tires stirred to settle before climbing out, although her boots make more.  She takes her gun and her box and she knocks on the door with her elbow.

There’s no answer and no lights..

Something chirrups in the vegetable patch.  She turns that way, looking out through the scrub and  licking her lips.  It probably sounds bigger than it is, but some part of her still wants it in the brief time before she knocks again.

The door tilts open, hinges rasping.

Great.  This better not be tonight’s murder.

Moonlight streams in behind her and from one small, dirty window.  The bed’s been slept in and bled on recently.  No one’s touched the desk in a while— it has a drape of dust.  There’s a cabinet of colored figures off to one side: a princess and a lady with a snake, a gryphon.  Things like that.  Across from that’s a shelf with no small amount of liquor.

Tyreen’s about to help herself to said shelf when she hears footsteps outside.  She picks her way to her feet and stomps around the back wall.  “I’m armed.  I got your box,” she announces before coming around the corner.  There’s no click of a safety, so looks like things got a lot less exciting.  Must be the person who lives up here.

And it’s a woman.  Not much older, not much taller than her.  She’s wearing an old-school desert cloak and one earring since she only has one ear left.  Half of her face is a badly set graft from somebody else’s.  “Oh.  It’s that time already? You can just leave the box, you know.”

Sure.  Offer her an easy way out.  “Ah, yeah, no.  You want this or not?”

The woman sighs.  “Put it... Put it on the desk I guess.”

Tyreen slams her own safety on.  She goes back the way she came, box weighing on her hip and her baseball cap starting to itch (it was just to keep her hair out of her face while she drove and she doesn’t know why she’s still wearing it ).

The woman jogs after her, hands out like she’s reaching to grab something important all of a sudden.  “Actually, not on the desk.  Put it by the door.  That’s where I want it.”

Tyreen is literally hanging over the desk at that point.  She makes an exasperated screech.  “OK, fine! Say so on your damn order slip next time!”

“You don’t have to yell.”

“Why not! Look, you think I wanna be here!?” Snorting and trying not to shake given the ongoing nastiness somewhere under her hair, she blows past, aiming for the stoop.  She’s got half a mind to drop the box and be done.  But no, she puts it down nice and she stops, crouching, to scrub at herself.  She’s got some seed pod nit in her hair somehow and there’s dust down the front of her tank top.

The woman hovers in the doorway, watching with her mismatched eyes.  “Oh.  I guess I assumed since I do,” she says.  Her voice has turned demure.  “Were you born on Pandora or something?”

Tyreen’s still itchy.  She throws her cap and rubs her gloved hands all over her face and hair.  Then she folds them in front of her mouth.  She takes a deep breath of road ash and her own sweat.  “I don’t mean here.  I mean here.”

It’s not supposed to be like this.  She’s not supposed to want out so bad.  She is out.  The stars are out.  There’s food.  There’s just also this person and...

“Right.  I think I get it.” The woman nods.  She scuffles away.

Tyreen gropes around in the pokealoes for her cap.  Only one of them dies.  It tastes slippery tart.  

  In the barest of retrospects, the mechanic should have told her to get a receipt if he was going to bother sending her up here.

Why does she know what receipts are? Just why? That’s also something she doesn’t want.

The woman reappears, holds a glass out to her, all finger-printed and half-full of something that smells like jam.  With her other hand, she happens to be scratching her own hair.  If it’s for real, if it’s in sympathy, she still does it.

Tyreen sits in the dirt and she drinks.

The woman takes the stoop.  She swills all of whatever she poured in one enormous gulp.

The chirrup sounds again and the woman chirrups back.  Nothing approaches them, or even this among the foothills so far as she can tell.  “You’re on the wrong side, you know.  If you wanted to be alone?  I can still see town.”

“Yes.  I know.  That’s fine.” The woman pours herself another shot.

Shrugging, Tyreen sucks lightly on her own.  It’s hi-test stuff.  A little won’t bother her stomach or her head too much.  She’s not going to finish her pour though, not by a long shot.  

“I’d rather watch them than have them watch me.”

“That’s real dumb,” Tyreen snorts.  “Backwards too.”

Their eyes meet across the moonlight.  Elsewhere above them stars turn over.

“Hey, are those the Pleiades?” When Tyreen points, she doesn’t point any place in particular.  She guesses that’s the fastest way to get an answer without admitting she doesn’t know.

The woman rubs her chin.  She thinks.  She gives no answer at all and the night is awfully quiet, even to the sounds of other people’s engines.  

[mauserfrau]

Chapters: 22/22 Fandom: Borderlands (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Troy Calypso, Tyreen Calypso Additional Tags: Troy Calypso POV, Relationship Study, Complex Relationship, Sibling Relationship, Angst, Dead animals, Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Claustrophobia, Existential Dread, surreal goings on, building off of canon, addresses THAT ECHO log, Tyreen being Tyreen, Typhon being a dirtbag, Pretentious Literary References, rather a lot of drool, dammit tyreen what are you even reading, Introspection, troy suffering, you know, The good shit Summary:

Troy and Tyreen are stuck alone together in a small ship after the events of "No Coming Back II". Troy's trust in Tyreen doesn't seem to be the only thing that's broken. There's something very strange going on with the audio, the navigation and maybe the fundamental workings of their repurposed engine.

Told in vignettes. Includes a transcription and extension of said ECHO log [CH6], Troy showing off his tech smarts and a whole lot of quiet dread. Part of Grimeverse and references several eccentric details from that collection, but stands on its own.

10/19/2021: It's done and I'm posting it throughout the day. Enjoy!

[mauserfrau]

Guess What I Started Posting A Year Ago Today?

( N S F W )

I'm going to have more of a to do on the anniversary of the conclusion date, but today I just have to say: thank you, everyone for your time and support. If you'd have told me last year at this time I'd have friends who encouraged me to draw and take care of myself, I wouldn't have believed you. But! I believe you now and that's amazing.

also i drew tiddies last night aww yes