#acidity near thresholds (oc)

[raintailed]

various overseers for my blorbos :]

Acronym meanings:

???: ??? (this overseer is known as the Guiding Light)

NM: Nine Mushrooms

TQ: Tenebrous Qualia

RWSE: Rooms Where Sounds Echo

WSKR: Wandering Storm, Kingdoms Ruined

ANT: Acidity Near Thresholds

[vicunaburger]

Imperfect and inhuman, are we?

Fandom: School of Rock: The Musical (AU Verse) Chapters: 2/? Pairing: Dewey Finn x OC (Magdalena Newton) The Players: Dewey Finn, Magdalena Newton, Ned Schneebly, The School of Rock Students Word Count: 1,779 Warnings: M for Future Things

Notes: Oh yeah, this was a thing I was doing.

Chapter 2 - Evening - Serenade 

It was that near perfect sort of weather outside: the kind where it was cool enough to open all the windows, but not cold enough to warrant breaking out the portable heater and pointing directly at his feet. Instead of shutting himself away in the makeshift “soundproof” corner of his apartment, Dewey decided to take his personal jam session out onto the fire escape.

He had long since chased away the neighbors who took issue with his might tributes to the rock gods, so he wasn’t too concerned with having the police called on him.

Again.

Noise complaints carried expensive ass tickets.

Besides, using an acoustic guitar dampened the noise enough to satisfy the holdout residents around the building.

“Why is this G sounding like an A? Are you out of tune- fuck!” He mumbled though the impromptu song, angrily adjusting the strings. “I thought I fixed you when the humidity changed.”

“I don’t know that song,” a voice from the alleyway below called up to him. “Play Freebird.”

Startled, Dewey nearly fell off the windowsill onto the harsh, metal grating of the fire escape. Setting he guitar -gently- on the floor of the apartment, he climbed outside, peering down over the shaky railing to the ground below.

Looking ever so much the small, porcelain doll from such a height, he spotted a familiar woman wrapped in a winter white coat. Her dark hair spilled over one shoulder onto the pristine fabric, reminding him of one of those ink blot tests the Horace Green resident counselor would give the faculty every month.

She waved up to him, but it was hard to read her expression from such a distance. He could only assume she was in a good mood from her cheeky joke about requested another song. Then again, he had yet to see her in a bad mood.

Dewey was surprised -in the very best way- to see her so early in the evening. Magdalena had a habit of catching him as he arrived home from late night practice; it was uncanny how she always seemed to sneak up on him, barely making a sound as she approached him on the sidewalk. Normally, he could hear a pin drop from six feet away, but she was something else.

They would exchange pleasantries before she would continue her trek down the sidewalk toward the city proper, “to work” as she explained. She made no attempt to elaborate on what sort of job started so late at night; so, he guessed it was something medical.

Or she was a classy hooker.

Didn’t much bother him either way.

“Hey, Snow White!” Dewey called down to her, “Hold on, I’ll be right down.”

He near leapt back into his apartment, scrambling around on all fours, picking through various piles of laundry on the floor. They were organized – in a way – by the level of wear they received throughout the week. Obviously, something on the fresher side was the goal; it would be mortifying to pick out a shirt that had food stains or some other sign of his lack of forethought to hit the laundromat last week.

Magdalena always looked like a million bucks striking down that grimy sidewalk, whereas he looked like he rolled around a thrift store clothing bin.

He had gotten most of his wardrobe from thrifting, but she didn’t need to know.

“Aaaah – I’ll be right down… gimme just another minute.” He grabbed a sweater vest from under his bed, jamming it over his head as he yelled toward the window. “I don’t want you being late… for… whatever you would be late for!”

Struggling with the vest, as he had somehow managed to slip his head through an arm hole, he failed to notice the woman sitting politely outside the window.

Magdalena watching him angrily try and right himself; amused that he was taking such great pains to dress nicely for her sudden arrival. Frankly, what he already had on was enough for her, as she enjoyed seeing him so vulnerable?

No, casual was a better choice. Sometimes the nuance escaped her.

“No need to shout, Mr. Finn.” Magdalena finally announced herself, wanting to end his struggles. “I can hear you perfectly well.”

Dewey stopped midway removing the vest, dropping the garment to the ground, and pulling his t-shirt down over his stomach. It had ridden upward in his haste, exposing his midsection entirely. A bright blush spread across his cheeks, noting the fact she had been starting directly at the exposed pudge of his belly. Was it because of the pudge? It was the pudge, he concluded, her staring at him for any other reason was making a beeline for cheesy porn fantasy territory.

“What- how did you get up here?” He asked, blinking slowly.

Magdalena tilted her head, mirroring is blink, “The stairs.”

“Well, yeah duh the stairs, I meant like how you got up here so fast. There are like fifty steps up to this floor-” He sat on the windowsill across from her.

“Fifty-three steps.” She corrected him gently, brushing some stray hair behind her ear.

“How do you- “Dewey began.

“I counted.” Magdalena finished for him. “I passed all of my arithmetic courses some years ago, Mr. Finn, as I’m sure you have.”

Pausing, he ran a hand through his mess of hair, trying to smooth down his perpetual bedhead fluff. Magdalena’s hand twitched with the impulse to run her fingers through his hair, wondering if it would be as soft as it looked against her sensitive skin. It wouldn’t have been too hard to just reach over a little, just for a brief moment to keep that sensation as a memory.

Two things kept her impulse in check: one, social convention would frown upon such a familiar gesture of affection towards a man she hadn’t yet spoke a thousand words to altogether. Two; she dared not cross the threshold between the fire escape and his apartment.

Fire escapes were public, specifically owned apartments were not.

“I… sound like a complete jackass when I talk to you. I’m usually better? Sometimes. Most times. Promise. Swear on my vinyl collection; may it melt if I’m lying.” Dewey scratched the back of his neck nervously.

Shrugging, she gave him a small, reassuring smile, “Well, I don’t know anyone personally to compare your behaviors with, but I’m hardly offended by what you say.

Dewey looked about to cry, which she couldn’t be sure if it were because of her response, or the chill in the weather. He leaned forward, elbow on his knees, with his chin in his hand. The fact that his upper body was now technically beyond the windowsill was not lost on her, her eyes flicking down to calculate the angle between his head and the window frame.

He sighed heavily, taking note of her impeccable posture, “You’re so… polite, ya know that? Like those women in fancy drama movies on PBS. Sitting around waiting to marry some fancy lord or whatever. Why are you up here talking to me anyway?”

“Oh, well, shouting from the street would be grossly inappropriate. My mother, she always says, ‘Magda’” She deepened her accent, hunching slightly, “ ‘If they cannot be close enough to hear you speaking softly, they aren’t worthy of hearing what you have to say in the first place.’”

“So, you came up here because you wanted me to hear you better?” Dewey tried to piece what he could through the thick, eastern European accent she had donned. “I would have come down! Now you’ll get that coat all covered in rust and I’m gonna feel bad about it. And that’s gonna make me break out the wallet so you can get it dry cleaned, because I need to be a gentleman.”

Magdalena laughed, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, “I can get it washed, no charity required. It’s just a coat; but a Mr. Finn is unique, so I will gladly sacrifice something that can be replaced.”

The rocker stared at her, his jaw a little slack, “…are you real?”

“The eternal question plaguing the greatest minds in history.” She played with the ends of her inky hair, twisting it around her fingers, “Maybe. Maybe not. In this instance of sitting with you, yes, we are real in relation to each other. Then again, when I leave, you might not exist until I come back. Or vice-versa.”

“Terrifying,” He replied, shaking his head sadly.

Seizing the opportunity, she reached over with her free hand, patting his shoulder softly, “Quite; but I could always be wrong, Mr. Finn.”

Dewey reached upward, placing his larger hand upon hers, frowning when he felt how cold she felt, “Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were freezing? Here.”

Before she could stop him, he took hold of both her hands, pulling them inside the warmth of the apartment, rubbing them between his own hands to generate heat. Magdalena’s arms felt like their were being pulled through a nest of razor wire, her very sinew feeling as if it were being peeled back from her muscles.

She steeled her expression, biting her tongue to keep from screeching in pain from his selfless gesture, trembling head to toe with the effort. He thankfully didn’t notice her discomfort, cupping his hands around hers and puffing warm breaths against her cold skin. What should have been a tender, friendly gesture was being overridden by her compulsion to stay outside. His permission needed to be verbal, not physical. Words were powerful things in her experience.

Her head was pounding, her vision growing blurry with the pain streaking through her veins like acid. Faintly, she could feel a small drop of blood leaking out from her nose, trickling down her to her lip, and falling onto her lap.

Dewey must have taken his attention away from her hands, his eyes growing wide as he let her go, “You’re bleeding? Are you okay? Snow?”

The woman pulled her hands toward her body, one of them going up to try and hide her bloody nose, “Oh! I’m… forgive me, it happens occasionally. Not your fault!”

The moment her hands were outside the threshold of the window, her body felt perfectly normal. No pain, no throbbing headache. Just as she had been moments before.

“Allergy medication. Sometimes with the dry weather… ah, still, I apologize for the gruesome interruption.” She took a handkerchief out of her coat pocket, wiping away the blood as best she could. “Did I get it all? Less hideous?”

Leaning forward, Dewey pretended to examine her face, struggling to keep a stern expression, “Well, less hideous than you usually are, so it’s a start. Might take a little more work to get you from hideous to tolerable.”

Magdalena pouted, stuffing the handkerchief back into her pocket, “I’ll enlist your help to make sure I’m daresay presentable in the future. Goodnight, Mr. Finn, I expect a better song choice tomorrow.”

Writing Tags: @amywright @mrgeuse  @hoodoo12 @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @a-subconscious-manifestation @asriells @missihart23 @heknowshisherbs @clairjohnson

[atfauomo]

another dump post sorry yallllll

Some stuff I am excited to write about but dont have time to write/draw!! but i will try! i just…have ot get the thoughts out somewhere….

Tesarus:

Created by Tsarkon of the Tesauri Eva, leaders of the Destic/illegal machine trade

Stolen as a sparkling formatted into the blender form we see ver in

Had no communicative abilities, as spark capailites where disabled, beyond that of a dog, but the ability was there

Used as a weapon of destruction and colonization

With other Destics of much lesser crime, started a revolt near the time Swindle and Brawl led H6 to do so on Galapagi

Betrayed by the other Destics, trading Tesarus for help by organics

Was deactivated and sent to the mining planet Messatine by decree of the Jetfire Act, which stated Destics were given aid by Cybertronian authority

Messatine was really a prison planet for “out of threshold” Cybertronians, aka, Destics of higher level crime, or those with a lack of control over their spark, who would otherwise be deactivated by organics

Quite fidgety and hit things a lot because had no other way of expressing emotion

Had a rivalry with Rumble and Frenzy

Almost blended them up until new miner Megatron stopped them

Megatron smacked ver enough times so that Tesarus’ spark could work a bit

Became friends with the three

Become close friends with the two when Megatron was sent to Cybertron to be a gladiator (as ve did not have crimes, was sent to Messatine in accident)

Started a revolt with the two…just when the “war” was to begin, and Megatron legally got them help and refuge

Was a bit of an outcast and loner, since Rumble and Frenzy became friends with Soundwave and the casseticons, plus was known as incredibly dangerous

Joined the DJD when Tarn smacked a flyer to join the group, claiming “Megatron accepts ALL thus the DJD accepts ALL” or something

With the DJD, conquered the Tesauri Eva, faced Tsarkon, and gained the name Tesarus, meaning something deep to ver or related idk

At first real quiet and just loomed over the other DJD, who were also weird misfit losers bois

Eventually became boisterous and confident in verself as a weird misfit loser boi

Still quite shy around non-DJD nand tends to keep away

Eventually got some counseling and spark fixed

Whenever the DJD smash into buildings during sparkling season, ve gets very stressed bc a lot of the sparklings jump on ver

Sometimes wears a metal cover that covers ver blender abdomen 

It feel like wearing a very tight suit

Sunstorm

Seeker sparks appear in hotspots in groups of three

TC and Skywarp spark without a third

Starscream’s spark was found near Sunstorm without a third

Sunstorm’s spark theorized to have absorbed TC’s and ver own third spark

Starscream’s was found to also be absorbed until it floated over to TC’s group

Spark was recorded to be abnormally dangerous, with the ability to not just destroy the hot spot but cybertron itself

spark taken and sealed in a modified Seeker vessel which was sealed in deep in Cybertron’s core to power the city of Vos (which came to be known as a very energetic, lively, warm city)

Spark grew despite this, conscious and alone for a long long time, cut off from anyone

Was eventually accidentally discovered and released by the Seeker known as Acid Storm during The Stasis

Had, unknown to  verself, heat enough to melt other bots and spark fluctations that corrupted any tech (also meaning other bots)

Had a jumbled way of communicating, sounding like static noise, the equivalent of animalistic grunts, squeals, and whines, as well as childish murmuring

Continued to do so, could not learn how to speak as a Cybertronian

Learned the Cybertronian ways of nonverbal communication

Was taught how to behave and control verself by Acid Storm and Shockwave in secret

Was outed to the whole con faction by a curious Starscream, who has an extreme fear of Sunstorm, despite not remembering ver at all

Thundercracker and Skywarp themselves have a protective nature around their trinemate...yet feel something close and familiar about Sunstorm (which sets Starscream down a spiral)

Sunstorm verself has an intense yearn to be with the three

Caused a mass panic, and deemed the most Dangerous Cybertronian on the Autobot Red List

Is honestly a very well meaning bot that wants to be friends with everyone and to be a psychologist

Tries to help out a lot but cant

Has no sense of the faction boundaries and will try to make conversation with Autobots either in Deceptijail, in con boundaries, in Autobot boundaries, in spying mode….etc…

Is able to make cool light displays and with control keep cons warm, which is a bonus for the attention starved con

Changes colors a lot

Is put in a trine with Hotlink (weapon nerd) and Bitzstream (gossip/computer games nerd), who want nothing ot do with ver

Doesnt really notice bc considers them as close as ver original trine anyway

Talks about primus……………a lot

Really likes Acid Storm a lot but is afraid that verself may be too clingy

Unicron

Gigantic space god

Creator of the aliens that live with Cybertronians known as Insecticons

They are basically living squishable trash bois that eat pollution and recycle old metal and shed new metal

They also are asexual and create live young that form as bumps on their back and fall off like blobs (like look at videos of cockaroaches giving birth but instead coming out of the backend they just…fall off on a bumpy carrier)

Likes planets with molten core bc its the equivalent of Ferrero Rocher chocolate

Big loser

Loves ver trash children

Rotorbolt

Ve has a profile but ve jkust needs a red

Architect nerd who changed ver altmode bc ye

Starscream

hhhHGGG

Read the story about Starscream and Skyfire….I need to do an uPDATE

Hhhmhmhmhmhmhm drama angst yeeeeees

Drama queen with honestly a really sad backstory

SW and TC are close to ver!!

Omega Supreme

Aaaaaaalso drama

Was known to be a giant dorky city nerd

Hada tiny friend named Cosmos whom ve wanted to be with forever

Was cared for by Ratchet and Ratchet’s friend Ironhide

Ironhide had saved some Destics known as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, who became friends with OS

It was greatuntil Galvatron came and ruined it all

Or rather, OS ruined it all

Basically for a time lost control of ver body and caused a lot of pain and suffering to Scilicos and the city

Which is incredibly bad since these are very alien behavior to Cybertronians, who normally appear to humans to do absolutely nothing but float around

Bc drama stuff ve blamed the COnstructicons for the event and when ve failed to git them ve flew in space until ve offlined

Was VERY young when all that happened, like barelyh a teen tbh

Was to crash into earth like a football outta hell that would demolish everyone

Was stopped by Metroplex

Against ver will, ve was repaired

Seemed like ve was going to stay unmoving and quiet until ve heard the Constructicons mentioned

Almost blew up an entire human city to destroy the cons who hid in hopes OS would stop

Was stopped by OP

Becomes very scared of verself and of emoting, need a lot of help and support :(

Ughghghghghg I have a lot of OC profiles to do

[chocobroobsession]

The Red String - Chapter 6

Author’s Note: More on my Ignis x fem!OC soulmate AU based on the tale of the red string of fate. This chapter features more Prompto and Gladio. Word Count: 2998.

Chapter Masterlist

The men wasted no time in lifting the woman from the ship and attempting to find their way back to the train. Thankfully, they hadn’t been out long and so the storm had yet to blow away the deep tracks they plowed in the snow. Gladio carried the woman in his arms, noting how cold she felt. How long had she been there?

Once they made it back to the train, it began moving, picking up speed as it put the frozen wasteland behind them. They laid the woman down across a bench in one of the booths.

“Are they okay? Do they require medical attention?” Ignis suddenly panicked.

Gladio checked for vitals and pulled her coats open to see if there were any visible wounds. “She’s a little cold but she’s breathing steadily and I don’t see anything immediately wrong with her.”

“That’s good then,” Ignis mused to himself. He hadn’t realized that the person they rescued was a woman. He removed his coat and held it out towards where Gladio was standing. “Here, place this on her. She could probably use extra warmth.”

Gladio tucked the coat around her torso and guided Ignis back to a different seating area in the car. He needed answers but he wasn’t sure where to begin.

“What the hell, Ignis?! How did you know she was there?” Gladio demanded.

“Honestly I didn’t know who or what we’d find out there.”

“Wait, so you don’t know her?” Pompto cocked his head to the side in complete confusion.

“I’m not sure…does she look familiar to either of you?” Ignis wondered.

“I’ve never laid eyes on her before,” Gladio answered.

Prompto piped up, “No clue, Iggy”.

Ignis was puzzled. What drew him to her then? The questionable feeling he had before they stopped had vanished and the force pulling him to her was nowhere near as potent. It was like an extremely dull tug, hardly noticeable like when a slight breeze ruffled one’s hair. “What does she look like?”

Prompto and Gladio stared at each other before peeking back at the women slumbering on the bench. They turned back to Ignis. “She’s a short brunette,” Prompto began. Prompto wasn’t always very articulate when it came to describing things to Ignis; he was used to letting his snapshots do the talking, but those would be lost on a blind man. Gladio was usually the one to fill in the blanks, but he didn’t seem too eager to paint this picture for Ignis.

“It looks like she’s got some sort of doctor’s coat or lab coat under that other coat of hers,” Gladio added. “But wait. We found her in Niflheim territory in an Imperial airship, no less. I know Magitek troopers usually pilot their own ships, so she probably somehow hijacked it, but doesn’t this mean there’s a good chance she’s a Nif? What if she’s one of those scientists from Zegnautus Keep? You know what kind of fucked up shit they were up to. And we just saved her and brought her along for the ride?!” His anger grew as he thought more about it.

“Well, we don’t know for sure who she is unless we ask her…” Prompto quietly interjected. “I mean, didn’t we just establish that I’m technically a Nif too?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t choose that, Blondie. If she’s a scientist, she definitely chose that. For all we know, she’s created countless daemons and Magitek troopers that have tried killing us. You don’t have a bad bone in your body, Prompto,” Gladio comforted his friend.

“All speculation,” Ignis spoke up. “Look, I don’t know how I knew she was there, but all the same, we rescued her and now she’s here with us. Let’s just wait for her to come around and then we can figure out what to do with her.”

“Fine,” Gladio gritted his teeth. He had no idea what had happened to Ignis, but he was still skeptical where the woman was concerned.

**********

Chandra woke up in a very uncomfortable position. She was flat on her back on what appeared to be some sort of lightly padded bench in a booth and she could feel movement. Was she on a train? She had been following tracks before she crashed. She sat up and looked out the window and surmised that she was indeed on a train. She then panicked, grabbed at her body, and then sighed in relief. Well, I’m still not a daemon, so I guess I wasn’t exposed like I thought I was. I would have turned by now if I had been. That’s one plus at least. She saw that a black jacket had slid down onto her lap when she rose. She didn’t recognize it, so she lifted it to her face and inhaled. It smelled of leather and coffee. She couldn’t think of anyone she knew who possessed those scents, but it was intoxicating and comforting all the same. Whose is this?

“Oh hey, you’re awake!” Came a bright, bubbly male voice. She jumped and dropped the jacket, turning her head to see the owner of the voice. A skinny blonde man with hair that instantly reminded her of a chocobo was approaching her from the front of the car.

“The name’s Prompto! Are you doing okay? Are you hurt or need anything?” He suddenly looked embarrassed and concerned as his cheeks flushed pink.

“Um…I guess I’m okay? Thanks?” Chandra was very confused. “Where the hell am I?”

“Oh, uh, you’re on a train with me and my friends to Tenebrae. We’re going to head to Altissia and then go back to Lestallum. Where you headed?”

“Nowhere in particular. How did I get here?”

“We found you in your airship. You must have crashed into a snow bank. You had passed out and the engine was dying. We didn’t want you to freeze to death, so we brought you with us. I hope that’s okay?” Prompto looked down at his boots.

“Yeah, that’s okay. I prefer not freezing to death. Thank you.” Chandra wearily answered. She still felt groggy, but the events that led to her current situation started to unfold in her mind.

She had gone to her apartment as she was advised to do. For five whole days she paced, attempting to plan her next move. On the second day, she had called Celine to see how she was fairing, and all she got was an earful of sobbing. She begged Celine to get some rest and that she’d come get her when she had a plan.

On the fifth day, however, she had reached her limit. She still had no idea what to do but could not just sit idly while the world she knew shattered around her. She was not going to go down with the rest of the city. She packed some clothes, non-perishable foods, all of her gil, and several potions into a backpack, threw on her lab coat and a trench coat for extra warmth, and started to head out the door. She hesitated. Where was she planning on going and how was she going to get there? It had been five days and she still hadn’t come up with any answers for her future. Surely there were patrols outside, who would immediately send her back home. Maybe she was just overreacting. Maybe Gralea was fine, and the daemon outbreak was confined to a section of Zegnautus Keep and they were just finishing cleanup. Either way, she was determined to escape the city for good, and she was going to take Celine with her. Before trekking to her coworker’s apartment, however, she took a moment to stare at her desk. Secured underneath the table, were her beloved daggers. Though she hadn’t practiced with them in years, it wouldn’t hurt to have them, just in case. She rushed to the desk, pried them out of their hold, and shoved them deep into her bag before heading out the door.

Chandra had expected to find Celine cowering in her closet when she arrived, but instead she was greeted by silence. “Celine? Are you in there?”

No answer had come when she pounded on the door and no sounds were heard when she pressed her ear to the thin wood. Did she try to leave home? She tested the knob and found it unlocked. As she stepped across the threshold, a growl registered in her left ear. She stopped dead in her tracks and slowly turned her head. There, cowering in the corner was a daemon. It wasn’t like any of the others she had witnessed before from her experiments, but it did look similar to the ones her coworkers had transformed into.

“Oh shit,” she whispered. The daemon was wearing a lab coat with an embroidered “C” on the pocket. Celine’s lab coat. “Celine?”

The daemon let out a screech and lunged at her. She quickly backed out the door and slammed it. She could hear claws raking across the wood as the daemon growled and shrieked. “Celine, no!” Chandra sobbed. The closest thing she had to a friend had transformed into a daemon. She truly was all alone in the world now. She turned and began puking on the “welcome” mat. Mostly bile and acid came up, but she continued to dry heave afterwards.

After the convulsing stopped, Chandra rose up, wiped her mouth, and looked around. The city lights were dimly shining, but the darkness surrounding her was eerie and not deterred by the lights. Aside from the unearthly noises from inside the apartment, there were no people and no sounds. The city never slept. There were always people out, always sounds: people chatting, babies crying, kids screaming, machinery churning from the factories, cars honking, steam billowing from the chimneys at the labs, the hum of engines. Those sounds were always present, and yet, she was met with silence. How long had the city been like this? Something was definitely wrong.

An ungodly scream pierced the air from a few blocks away. Chandra jumped and nearly fell down the stairs that led up to the apartment. She turned her head from side to side, trying to determine the origin of the scream when she heard another. And then another. Screams began to break the silence. “It’s spreading. The daemons are coming!” Chandra thought aloud. “I have to get the fuck out of here!”

She took off in a dead sprint, silently cursing herself for being out of shape. She didn’t know where to go. The whole city would soon be crawling with daemons. Once a person transformed, they lost their human memories and did the only thing daemons knew how to do—attack. She had to find a safe haven of some sort. She didn’t own any form of transportation; she never had the need before. She could easily walk to work and the store, so it wasn’t like she had far to venture. Not until now.

She ran for a few blocks before nearly slamming into a man who was hurrying towards his car. “Watch where you’re going, bitch!”

“Fuck you, asshole,” Chandra shot back. The impact had nearly knocked her off her feet. Just the man started to retaliate with a smarmy comeback, he doubled over and threw up. Only, it wasn’t normal vomit. It was a viscous, black ichor. It spewed forth from his mouth like a fountain and Chandra backed away. When he rose up, his eyes were blackened and the side of his mouth looked as though it were decaying. She knew that look all too well. He was transforming into a daemon before her very eyes! As he doubled over to vomit again, he dropped his keys and began screaming. Chandra took the opportunity to step towards him, snatch the keys, and take off towards his vehicle. He started to get up and come after her, but another spray of ichor stopped him in his tracks and he fell to the ground yet again, screaming and writhing in pain. Chandra unlocked his car, slammed the key into the ignition, revved the engine, and floored it. Grand theft auto wasn’t something she normally justified, but her life was on the line and that guy was an asshole, a soon to be daemon asshole, and so she forgave herself.

As she weaved through the empty city streets, she could see glowing eyes on either side of the road. Daemons were gathering. One even went so far as to jump into the road a few feet in front of her, but she managed to swerve in time. Most were trying to stay away from the street lights and the car headlights. As she finally reached the edge of the city, she pulled over on the side of the road to assess the situation. Outside of Gralea lay the frozen desert. There was no way the car could make it out there. She wasn’t even sure if there were roads. She could feel a panic attack creeping up on her as she realized she was out of options. But then she turned and noticed an Imperial airship in the distance. Magitek troopers had filed out and were running through the streets. They weren’t marching in order as they usually did. Great, they must have gone rogue. That’s all I need. Daemons and rouge MT’s.

An insane thought popped into Chandra’s mind. What if I steal that airship? She was surprised she still even remembered how to drive a car. She hadn’t done so since she was fourteen and her dad had let her behind the wheel of his own before she was legal. But could she fly an airship? It was worth a shot, at least. I’ll either die here to a bunch of daemons or die in a fiery plane crash. Plane crashes seem cooler.

She surveyed the area before bolting from the car. She made it to the hatch of the airship and peered inside. It didn’t look like anyone was there, so she went to the cockpit and sat down. The controls looked surprisingly simple. Then she remembered that troopers usually flew their own ships. “Controls can’t be complicated if a stupid hunk of metal and daemon is supposed to be flying it!” she mused aloud. She pressed a button which started the engine. Unlike planes which needed space to build up speed to gain height, the airship could just lift straight into the air and take off. She pushed a few more buttons and slowly, the craft ascended into the air. She grabbed the steering wheel and screamed as it flew off into the darkness.

She didn’t dare stray too far from the ground. Though she wasn’t exactly sure of her location, she could see railroad tracks off in the distance that she assumed lead deep into the frozen desert. She figured she may as well follow those until she got out of Niflheim and then just see where the journey took her. She found that flying wasn’t so difficult as long as she concentrated on staying in the air and not trying to turn the wheel too much. She followed the tracks into the wintery storm. She wasn’t sure how long she had been in the sky when the he snow started to become too thick. Just as she began to panic, she felt the engine strain and the craft dip low towards the ground. I’m going to crash!

She tried to slowly lower herself towards the land, but she didn’t see the tall snow bank camouflaging a rock formation. The craft crashed into it, nose first, and slammed onto the ground, snow cascading onto the ship, partially burying it. Chandra was jostled and thrown from her seat. She cried out in pain, barely able to reach into her bag for one of her potions. She crushed it and instantly felt the pain die down a notch.

She crawled back into the seat and tried to take off, but the snow was too heavy. She decided the best thing to do was sit and analyze the situation before doing anything rash. She left the engine running for warmth, and began pondering her situation. Rather than think about how to survive, she instead broke into tears. Sobs wracked her body as she cried into her hands. What the hell is going on with me? This was completely stupid. I’m a fucking scientist in an outbreak. I could be infected and I could have gone on to infect others. Maybe it’s better that I crashed here. Maybe I’ll just die here instead. Or if I become a daemon, at least I’ll be away from the population.

After some time, she raised up to look out a side window to survey the area. Off in the distance stood a Red Giant. If it noticed her, she would definitely be dead. Seeing that gigantic daemon after having second thoughts about her actions was just too much for her brain to handle, and with that, she blacked out. She would wake periodically only to ultimately panic and pass out again for a few days, until one day, she felt a familiar force, pulling her from her slumber.

**********

“Hey, I asked who you were?”

Chandra snapped back to the present. That blonde guy, Prompto, had still been talking to her when she zoned out.

“Oh, sorry. My name is Chandra.”

“Chandra. That’s a nice name! Oh, here’s the guys! Chandra, meet Gladio and Ignis!”

A familiar, small tug caused her to turn her head towards the door as two men made their way in. The first was a big, burly man with longer hair and scars adorning his face. He stepped aside to allow a second man to walk in front of him. He was facing the ground, walking with a cane. He rose up and turned his head in their direction. Chandra froze. Before her stood the warrior from her dream!

[raintailed]

a lil guy,,,

this is Acidity Near Thresholds (xe/xer)! Xe has a whole lot of cleaner robots and has taken charge of cleaning up pollution in the local regions. ANT *adores* xer bots even though theyre literally just glorified roombas