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sissytobitch10seconds · 4 months ago

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Little Bird's Song

Fandom: Some Assembly Required Summary: With a romantic rival walking around Knickknack, Piper has been a lot angrier than she usually is. She spends a bit of time introspecting into herself and realizes a lot of ground shaking, world breaking things about herself. Warnings: Internalized transphobia, comphet, and general idiocy Word Count: 3,658 Ship(s): Piper Gray/Robin (SAR)

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Piper could never remember being this angry before.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Nowadays it felt like her default emotion had turned into anger rather than the ever-present despair that she had been wallowing in before. She had moments of sadness and joy, as well as fear given how often their company ended up being in some kind of mortal jeopardy, but she was just angry all the time.

Her brain was almost always swirling with thoughts that she didn’t really understand and that was a lot more exhausting than she had thought that it would be. She had been starting to question why everyone was asking her about her gender and thinking that she was a boy when she had always dressed femininely with makeup, and why it always made her heart pound so hard. Those thoughts combined with her obsession with Jarvis were beginning to come to a point in her mind and it made her lash out reflexively.

What wasn’t helping matters in the slightest was the presence of AlphaDog in the office. Piper had originally been so excited when the other girl had come, mostly because they both had died hair and dressed the same way, but also because they played the same game and it gave her someone other than Bowie to talk to about it. Bowie was pretty preoccupied trying to get Aster to put the game down so that he could focus on real clothing instead of virtual clothing.

Things had started to go downhill not long after that. Robin was cute and funny and smart and so very talented when it came to video games. She had been the top player in their game for a reason, it showed whenever a control or a mouse and keyboard were placed into her hands. Piper liked to think that she was good when it came to coding and figuring out how tech worked, even if she didn’t necessarily understand how the back end worked and couldn’t hack worth a damn, but Robin was so much better. She was able to find the loopholes and exploit them to their fullest extent both in online games and in person technology. She had found the override on their rollercoaster in a matter of seconds and got it to go way faster than was probably safe, but fast enough that it was finally newly exhilarating after them using it to get to different levels of the building for the last year or so.

“Jarvis! I want to think about Jarvis!” Piper reminded herself as she threw her arms up in the air in exasperation. She had come up to the roof so that she could be alone, despite the shuffling in the shed off to the corner. She needed to be alone so that she could sort through all of her messy thoughts and become more of a person than she had become.

Robin was good at video games, but that wasn’t something that came with natural talent. A lot of games had a very steep learning curve that required someone to put dozens of hours into them, and that meant that the other girl simply had more time to do that with. Piper was allowed some amount of gaming time when she was on the clock so that she could figure out what might be the best games for Knickknack to put out, but she also had to untangle messy code for their website and manage the whole dev team on top of going to high school. Robin wasn’t better than her, she simply had more time on her hands.

Thinking that didn’t make her feel any better, though.

Piper walked over to the couch made out of turf and then flopped down onto it. She reached down and unhooked the back of her heel from her foot so that she was free. She may have been insanely jealous of the other girl, but Robin had the right thought when it came to footwear. She had always gone with heels because they were the most feminine and that gave her something else to point to when it came to correcting people when they insisted that she was a boy. She didn’t understand why they did that, it upset her so much that she only wanted to scream and curse and throw a fit like a toddler might.

Robin had never done that though, she had always accepted Piper at face value and corrected herself when she said something wrong that made the other girl uncomfortable. That was something that Piper wasn’t used to in the slightest even though she really wished that she could be.

The thing that made her angriest in the current moment was how perfect and wonderful Robin was, and how much Jarvis seemed to like that. Piper had always been worried that her flaws caused problems with her ability to make friends with the other employees at Knickknack, especially with the way that Aster was always pointing them out and making a big deal out of them. It felt like a confirmation that her near-perfectness and all the flaws that came with getting it down from perfect had caused all the problems that she was currently fighting with. If she was perfect then Jarvis would love her the way that he loved Robin, if she was perfect then people wouldn’t constantly call her a boy and refuse to accept that she was a girl, if she was perfect then Robin would keep her eyes on Piper instead of looking towards every other boy in the building other than Bowie.

Horror dripped through her very veins and washed out the red hot rage that had been consuming her when the realization finally struck her mind. It felt like someone had placed a cattle prod on her spine and drove her to sit up with it, making her entire body go rigid.

She sat up from where she had been laying on the couch and placed a hand on her cheek to see if it was hot. She had stopped wearing foundation a long time ago when she thought that her freckles would make her more noticeable in terms of being unique and alt, which allowed her to feel the heat in her face far easier than it would have been if she were caked in makeup like she used to be.

She had always looked up to Robin since the other girl had been so talented before they had met. Piper had used her as a high bar, the goal that she wanted to achieve before she finally decided that she was good enough at playing video games to endeavor upon another hobby. She thought that she had lost those feelings when she had officially met Robin, seeing the other girl in person had confirmed just how perfect and wonderful she actually was. Those kinds of things made her insanely jealous when they were done by any other person, so it made logical sense to her that the same would be true with Robin. She hated people that were better than her at one thing and Robin was better than her at everything.

At the same time, though, whenever she thought of the other girl her heart squeezed dramatically in her chest. She had thought that feeling was due to the jealousy she had over Jarvis and his attentions. It seemed like the CEO could only look at other girls, like he as incapable of turning his head towards Piper and seeing the love and adoration that she had for him. Of course, she knew that she wasn’t helping matters by fumbling over her words and making herself look like a complete joke whenever she tried to confess to him.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Piper mumbled to herself. She sat up on the couch and then leaned back so that her head was resting on the back, staring up at the bright blue sky. She had a lot of feelings and thoughts she needed to sort through, and she knew that if she was lying down on the couch she would get a mouthful of turf while squirming back and forth.

She had thought that she was in love with Jarvis for a very long time, since they were both in high school together. She had seen him every day when they were in gym class together, seen the way that his muscles rippled when he played sports with the other boys or how he roughhoused with them during lunch. She had seen the way that his shirt and jeans hung off of his body when he was trying not to fall asleep in class and it always made her feel such intense, strong emotions that she didn’t quite know how to name.

Robin, on the other hand, made her feel safe and secure. She liked when she was around the other girl without Jarvis being present.

Piper took a deep breath and tried to get all of her thoughts to align themselves in her head so that she didn’t feel totally and utterly overwhelmed by them. Her feelings for Robin were really complicated, as was the way that she was beginning to feel about Jarvis.

She didn’t know exactly when she had noticed it, but the boy that she had always been so fond of was actually quite cruel to those around him. She knew that Bowie wasn’t exactly everyone’s cup of tea, but that didn’t mean that Jarvis had to be constantly reminding the other boy of that. Jarvis was also almost entirely obsessed with himself and how he looked, that was why he had hired the rest of the staff when they had the mixup with that fast food place in the beginning of the company. He talked about himself almost constantly and while Piper could understand being proud of one’s body when they looked like that, it didn’t necessarily make for a good romantic partner.

The longer that she thought about how she felt around Jarvis versus how she felt around Robin, the more she realized that she wasn’t so much attracted to Jarvis as she was aggressively jealous of him.

She was used to feelings of jealousy, she got them almost every time someone got a higher test score than her or when someone else took the spotlight for something that she had done. She had never confused them for a crush before, but it made sense now why she had been totally and utterly obsessed with beating Jarvis in all of the classes that they had shared. He had occupied her mind because she wanted to be him, not because she wanted to be with him.

It also explained why it had been so hard for her to act normal about having a crush on him when she had never had that problem before. She had been forcing those emotions as an attempt to explain why she felt such strong jealousy for him over things that she never had before. She was jealous of the way he looked, which was strange because she had always been so confident and happy with how she dressed and her style overall.

Piper worried her lip between her teeth as she began to contemplate if she preferred the way that Jarvis dressed compared to the awkward alt style that she had chosen for herself. She supposed it could be true, but it still felt awkward to roll around in her mind.

Another chill went down her spine as she finally realized something monumental and confusing. She was going to have to think about that a lot more before she decided anything entirely, it was a big change in her life.

Suddenly it felt a lot easier to think about Robin and the weird mix of emotions that she had for the other girl. Doing anything to get her attention had seemed like such a good idea when Piper had thought that she was a boy. She knew that people could like other individuals of the same sex, she was best friends with Aster- for better or for worse- and he was dating both Bowie and Knox. She just hadn’t ever considered that as a possibility for her.

Piper felt something weird burst inside of her when she realized that she was jealous of Robin interacting with Jarvis not because she was in love with Jarvis, but because she was in love with Robin.

She was both giddy with excitement about knowing that she had a crush on someone and terrified about what the implications of this could mean from her. She knew that she wasn’t living in a time where being queer wasn’t allowed, she was in the modern era where people could be bigoted but being queer was usually protected by law. Her parents were generally understanding and kind people, so they would understand her to an extent. She just worried that people would start looking at her or thinking about her differently. If she liked girls and had masculine features, then she might as well have been a boy in their eyes.

That idea didn’t sit as strangely in her stomach as she thought that it would have.

---

Robin hummed gently to herself as she walked up from the lower floors of Knickknack to where the personal offices were. She had been coming there more and more often as of late, so that she could talk to the person that had killed her character in their shared favorite game. She was good enough to have won an award, but it was rare that she found someone that was just as passionate about it as she was and she liked Piper’s company.

Jarvis was a fun bonus, she liked having him around and getting to yank his chain. The boy was focused in on himself enough that he didn’t always get the jokes that she was making and she thought that was objectively very funny. She never drove it all the way home by mocking or laughing at him, but she enjoyed the comedy of his responses not making any sense to her given their different tracks of thought.

Things had been getting a little tense since a few days ago when she had mentioned maybe wanting to take Jarvis to the movies. There was a new sports biopic out that she wanted a jock’s perspective on so that she could make fun of it for the right reasons and he seemed perfect. Bowie and Aster had been all for her doing it while Knox had been shocked an offended that she hadn’t thought of him, despite the fact that he was going with his boyfriends, so she had brought it up to Piper.

That was when things started to really go downhill. The other girl had clammed up in the most bizarre way and began to babble around the subject like she was having some kind of fit. Robin hadn’t been able to figure out what she was saying in the slightest or why she would be so upset about it all. She had excused herself and continued on about her day, working with the dev team so that they could do a collaboration together with her.

Things hadn’t really gone back to normal after that. Piper had been avoiding her by bringing up some really weird excuses that didn’t make a lot of sense, and it was beginning to worry her. She had long since learned that it was hard enough being a feminine woman in male dominated spaces, let alone a woman that as interested in other women. She had learned to keep that factoid about herself private, being bisexual was only a part of herself that she shared with someone that she was romantically interested in. She didn’t think that Piper would have picked up on that and she certainly didn’t think that another person that dressed in the alt style would be repulsed or put off by something as small as a sexuality that deviated slightly from the norm. Despite that, Piper had been avoiding her like the plague and it was beginning to make her think that the other girl wasn’t as liberal and open minded as she had presented herself to be.

Robin peaked around the corner of the stairwell and saw that Piper was sitting at her desk. She caught eyes with Aster and then jerked her head to the side so that the other teenager could pick up what she was putting down. “I think that we should finish this meeting on the roof! It’ll give us some more inspiration,” Aster then declared loudly. He reached down and took Bowie’s hand, yanking him up into a standing position and practically dragging him from the room. None of the other employees were up there, Knox and Geneva were somewhere with Jarvis and the cleaning lady who wore the fat suit.

That meant that it was only Robin and Piper.

She took a deep breath to steal her nerves and then walked over to the other girl. She cold feel the sweat beginning to pool in the palms of her hands and her stomach flipping with anxiety. It had been a long time since she had felt like this when she was about to confess her feelings for someone, it was the main reason that she had started to wear the dog mask when she was out and about or why she simply dated online.

“Piper? Do you think that the two of us can talk?” Robin asked, ignoring her own feelings for the simple matter at hand. She would never forgive herself if they didn’t actually work through the barrier that had popped up between the two of them.

“No! I have a meeting! On the roof!” Piper said as she gestured over towards Aster’s now empty desk. She began to collect a random assortment of things including a broken Rubik’s cube, a ball of twine, three pencils, and her tablet.

“I think that the meeting on the roof was actually code for them wanting to make out,” Robin replied. She grabbed a chair from another one of the desks and then sat down so that she was on the short end closest to Piper. “Just sit down and talk to me, please.”

Piper whimpered, she actually whimpered, as she slid back down into the chair and dumped her things out on her desk. “What did you want to talk to me about, Robin?”

“Why have you been acting so weird around me recently? I can’t think of anything that I did that would make you feel so uncomfortable that you would have to make loud and obviously fake excuses just to get out of being in the same room as me. I… The only thing that I can think of is that something slipped and you found out that I have a crush on you, but I didn’t think that you would be the type of person that would freak out about that!” Robin let the words fall out of her mouth all at once, without even thinking about what she was saying. She had meant to string something coherent together so that they could have a real, actual conversation, but nothing had gone right for her since she had come to Knickknack.

“I just found out that I’m a boy.”

The silence before and after that was spoken was almost deafening. Robin could hear the beating of her heart up in her ears and the shaking of her hands as they rested down on top of her knees. She blinked once, twice, before it finally registered what Piper had just said. “You’re trans?”

“I guess so. I’ve done a lot of research on it, looked up a lot of articles and watched a lot of videos of trans men talking about their experiences. I’ve alway felt kind of weird about people calling me a boy, but it was an emotion that I skipped over right before I went to anger. I guess that was because I wanted to be a boy so badly that it made me angry when everyone thought that I was even though I had been born a girl,” Piper said. “I don’t want to lead you on and make you think that you have a crush on someone that wasn’t who you originally thought that they were.”

“I’m bi,” Robin replied, trying to make it casual. She could hear just how hard she was leaning into that alleged casualness to try and drive the point home for the other teenager, though, so it ended up coming off like she was a try-hard.

“Oh,” Piper replied. “I think I want to use the name Pipes for now, gender neutral while I figure some shit out.”

“Right,” Robin nodded. She stuck her hand out towards the boy and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Pipes. My name is Robin. I’m bisexual and I have a massive crush on you, regardless of what gender you are or what you look like.”

Pipes took her hand and gave it a firm shake. A pink blush had taken over his cheeks, making the freckles speckled over his nose pop something fierce. “It’s nice to meet you too, Robin. Do you think that we could go to the movies together instead of you and Jarvis?”

“I would like that a lot. Though I think we should pick something else, neither of us are very into sports,” she laughed. The confessions had brought something else with them, a sense of ease that they hadn’t had since Robin had stepped foot into the building and laid eyes on the boy that had managed to kill her character. She was very happy that it had gone and was excited to get to know the person that had been hiding underneath that uncracked shell.

#some assembly required #piper gray #piper x robin #Robin x piper #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own

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fight-surrender · 5 years ago

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Chapter 4: Emotional Support Wolf

Word count: 1056

Summary: “Wait,” Simon straightens and lowers his brows at me. “Did you just admit you’re a vampire?”

“Well spotted, Snow, what do you plan to do with that information?” I tilt my head at him, raising my brow, “I suggest we form a club, we can call it “Monsters of Mummers.”

Baz is a vampire, Simon's a newly minted werewolf. Now they have something in common.

Read Howlin’ Forever here on AO3

Thanks to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for the beta read & utter grammar rescue (any remaining mistakes are all my fault), and to @penpanoply, @vkelleyart & @nunzibelle for all the moral support that keeps me from falling into the abyss.

@krisrix, @vkelleyart, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @thehoneyedhufflepuff & @carryonvisinata, y’all were so kind to tag me on 6 sentence Sunday. I was out of town all week & don’t have six new sentences to post, so I just wanted to thank y’all for the tags with all my heart. I’ve got some ideas, so hopefully I’ll have something new for ya next week. <3 <3

____________________________________________

Baz:

“You can’t just bring dogs into the dining hall, mate. This has to violate multiple food codes. Not to mention it’s fucking huge.” Dev nervously eyes the beast sitting at the end of the table inhaling a pile of bangers.

“He’s fine. I "clean as a whistled" him before he came in.” I retort.

“I still don’t understand why your aunt insists on you watching him.” Dev says.

“We share a special bond.” I reply, “Only Fiona and I can control him, otherwise, he will dismember anyone who approaches.”

As if on cue, Snow raises his head, eyes Dev, and emits a low growl before resuming his attack on the sausage.

Dev swallows and clears his throat. “Sounds like the perfect dog to bring to school. Why doesn’t she just take it with her on her enchanted marijuana field trip?”

“Soluna Sativa can only be harvested by the light of the full moon in the farthest reaches of the Scottish Moors and Rusty gets carsick. Furthermore, he doesn’t fit in the MG and shrinking spells don’t last the whole trip.” I drawl, passing Simon a scone.

“Why doesn’t she just smoke local pot?” Niall asks, pouring himself more tea.

“Apparently this stuff prevents wrinkles.” I reply. “She’s a trained herbalist, you know.”

“Herbalist. Right. Fancy word for purveyor of mind-altering substances.” Dev quips.

“Alright lads,” I gather my things, “I’ve got to get this beast settled in Greek before the Minotaur gets in, no telling how Rusty will react to cattle.”

“How do they even let you bring that dog to class?” Niall asks.

“I tell them he’s my emotional support pet.” I reply, tossing Simon the crusts from my toast.

“What problems have you got then?” Dev grumbles. “You’re bloody perfect at everything.”

“Yes, and that makes me anxious,” I drawl.

“He’s off his knob,” Dev mumbles to Niall under his breath.

“I heard that.” Don’t think I won’t set Rusty on you just because you’re family.

I try not to look like I’m stomping away from them – I wait until I leave the dining hall, then stomp through the courtyard. I tried to stash the beast in our room, but the moment I closed the door to leave, he started to howl. It’s a miracle no one heard. He won’t let me out of his sight, even cramming his great hulking self into the loo with me. He curls up on the bath mat when I shower, he's seen me naked. It’s awful, and if he remembers any of this, I will combust.

The rest of the day is fairly uneventful. Well, minus an interlude where Simon chased Ebb’s goats across campus, but I managed to wrest him away before the goatherd intervened. Crowley, he's a menace.

***

It’s Monday night and Snow is restless. I imagine he’s going to transform soon; the moon is scheduled to rise at around 9:40. I settle in bed and try to read while Simon pants and paces the room. Eventually, he hops into bed with me and lays his great head in my lap. “There, there giant stupid puff,” I croon, massaging the spot he loves under his jaw. “Everything will be alright.” Snow huffs a sigh.

I rub his velvet ear with my finger. “You really are beautiful, you know? You insolent mongrel,” I murmur. “What would you do if you knew that I loved you I mean. Human you. I'm pretty sure this is worse than a crush. This feeling.” Crowley. I'm pouring my heart out to a dog.

A slim icicle of fear slivers trough my chest as I utter these words aloud. Were-Simon is asleep, but I have no idea what he understands in this form. What does he think and feel? Will he remember anything? Mostly he just seems like an irritable, ravenous, clingy dog. Am I his friend or his master? Does he stay with me out of love or obligation? I’d like to think it’s love. I’d like to stop thinking altogether. There’s nothing to be gained from this rabbit hole; he’s just a big goofy dog and I’m the person who feeds him. “But that’s all right,” I whisper. “I'll take what I can get.” I bury my face and arms in the soft bronze ruff of Snow’s neck, close my eyes and inhale his wild, familiar scent.

At 9:38, dog-Simon cries out and leaps off the bed, biting at his flank. I have no idea what is about to happen, so I cast a quick soundproofing spell on the room. I attempt to go to him, but Snow is all eyes and teeth as he collapses and howls like his heart is breaking. I try to block out the wet crunch of bones and flesh, as arms and legs elongate, a skull shrinks and tawny skin replaces fur. It’s over so fast.

Simon bloody Snow is heaving on the floor, trying to catch his breath. Starkers.

“Er—here, Snow. “I toss a blanket at him and turn around to face the wall. Crowley, how did I not think of the nakedness thing? For snake’s sake, I can’t unsee this. Why does he have to have moles everywhere.

Focus, Basilton.

Snow doesn’t say anything. He raises himself from the floor and slowly makes his way to his bed, collapsing onto the mattress. He burrows into a pile of blankets (Including mine.) and promptly falls asleep.

“You’re welcome for the blanket,” I mumble, but not loud enough for him to actually hear. “And the pet sitting.” I climb into my bed, wrap myself in the painfully thin, but cotton soft Watford sheet and try not to pout.

Snow doesn’t wake up for class. Or breakfast for that matter. I close our door softly when I leave, so I don’t disturb him.

After class, I pick up a mug of tea, a few bacon rolls and cherry scones to bring back to the room. Simon is sitting up in his bed, dressed (thankfully) with his head in his hands. He glances up when I walk in. He looks—haunted.

“Here.” I place the tea and food on the night stand.

“Thanks.” He says, eyeing me. He looks more defeated than wary. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“Why not?” I reply. I know the answer, but I want to hear him say it.

Snow rakes his hands through his hair. “Poetic justice,” he replies. “Sweet revenge. All this time I’ve been trying to prove to everyone that you’re a monster, and now I am one.” He is staring at his hands, jaw thrust forward, holding on to his tears through sheer force of will.

“It’s a dream come true,” I agree, softly.

Simon shifts, curling his knees up near his chest, and wraps his arms around them. Head down, he casts his red-rimmed blue eyes my way.

“But also,” I sit on the edge of his bed, facing him. My eyes meet his. “Because we match.”

“Wait,” Simon straightens and lowers his brows at me. “Did you just admit that you’re a vampire?”

“Well spotted, Snow. What do you plan to do with that information?” I tilt my head at him, raising my brow, “I suggest we form a club. I propose we name it “Monsters of Mummers.”

Snow looks back down at his knees. Shoulders slumped in defeat. “What a fucking disaster.”

I carefully place a hand on his shoulder, like he’s made of butterfly wings. Comfort is not my thing. “We’ll figure this out, Snow.”

Simon closes his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. He doesn’t wipe them. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and haltingly says, “thank you Baz, for everything.”

“You’re welcome,” I respond, holding my right hand out to him. “Truce?”

A small smile quirks at the corner of Snow’s mouth. He turns and takes my hand to shake it. His hand is big and warm and calloused and perfect.

“Truce.”

#carry on #fanfiction #snowbaz fanfiction #howlin forever #My fic #simon snow #baz pitch #dev #niall kelly #werewolf simon

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snowkatze · 6 years ago

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These Violent Delights

Link to ao3: These Violent Delights Genre: angst and fluff Word Count: 4357 Summary: Simon is watching 'Romeo and Juliet' in Magic History and he watches Baz write something on a paper. Later, Simon finds the paper and sees that Baz wrote a romantic sonnet. Who is he in love with? Includes one quote from Wayward Son but no spoilers. There’s also quotes from 'How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)' by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, '[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]' by e.e. cummings, 'Love Sonnet XI' by Pablo Neruda and 'Annabel Lee' by Edgar Allen Poe, and 'Romeo and Juliet' by William Shakespeare.

___

Leonardo DiCaprio is one gorgeous bastard. I've always thought so, when I was watching Titanic with Agatha during the Christmas holidays. (I think she wanted me to hold her hand. Maybe she wanted me to see what an epic romance looks like. I missed the cue. On both accounts.) He also makes one hell of a Romeo. Like, I get why Juliet would lay down her life for him. He's wearing a medieval knight costume to a party on screen. He's got a cheap fake sword, too, but unfortunately, he's not using it. It's not really that interesting, right now. Nobody's getting stabbed. Juliet is so enamored with Romeo. She's such a fool, really. Baz' hair is blocking the corner of the screen. It's fluffed up and soft on top of his head.

I've stabbed goblins, trolls, merwolves, a dragon, once... I've never been to a party. Baz would look good in a knight costume. Or with angels wings. Demons wings, maybe. Is that a thing?

Baz is taking notes, because of course he is. Even when we're watching a movie in class. Penny's right next to me, she's not taking notes. I'm not taking notes. I mean, we all know the story, right? Romeo and Juliet fall in love, their families have a feud that any Family Feud host would keel over because of, in the end they kill each other or something... Baz turns his head, and I can see that his hair falls in a swoop over his forehead. How tragic... Maybe I'll end up stabbing Baz. I just hope he'll - ...

I really should have held Agatha's hand when I had the chance.

I try to drag my gaze back to the screen, but the top of Baz' head is pretty distracting. Maybe he sat in front of me on purpose, so I couldn't see. He knows damn well how tall he is.

Baz is well fit – I mean – Romeo is – I mean – Juliet. No, Agatha. I like Agatha. Merlin, what is wrong with me?

Romeo's not that fit, obviously. I mean, in a way, yeah. In a, I'd like to have arms that strong, way. In a, I'd like to have eyes that bloody gorgeous, what the hell? The director's called Baz, apparently. I didn't know there were people called Baz. Not so unique now, are you, Baz? I guess he's not actually called Baz. I don't suppose there's anyone else called Tyrannus Basilton bloody Grimm-Pitch. Bummer. Baz would make a great director, for sure. He's great at yelling people and ordering them around, for starters. He's also great at everything. Wow, they're talking for so long. Someone stab me. Crowley, his hair is so nice. I want - I want his shampoo. What the fuck is he writing? Is he already doing the homework? Sneaky bastard. Maybe I should call him out. Maybe I should start on the homework.

I start poking Penny with a pencil.

“Sod off,” she says.

I turn back to the screen. There's some argument. Two of the guys start punching each other, Romeo tries to go between them...

“Who's that?” I whisper to Penny. “Tybalt and Mercucio,” she whispers back. “Merlin, have you been watching at all?” A scratch? What is happening? Is this guy dying? My eyes are drawn to the screen. Suddenly, I feel unusually cold.

'A plague on both your houses...' he says... I grip the sleeve of my sweater. I watch as Mercucio dies, I watch as Romeo gets revenge on Tybalt... I watch Romeo and Juliet in the chapel... Baz sits up straight. He has stopped writing. I watch as Romeo drinks posion, thinking Juliet is dead... As Juliet reaches out for him... I thought Romeo's eyes were blue before, but in the close-up of his face when he's dying, they look kind of grey, almost like Baz'... I grip my sleeve tighter. I watch as Juliet shoots herself. But I can't watch the back of Baz' head anymore. I focus on the other corner of the screen and don't look away until the bell rings. What's wrong with dancing and parties? The screen goes black and my gaze snaps back to Baz.

Why does someone always has to get stabbed?

He's shoving his stuff in his backpack, all except for the paper he'd been writing on. He crumples it and throws it in the trashcan by the door. I keep looking at the door, even after he's gone. “Simon?” It's not an inevitability, is it? Romeo and Juliet, dying...

“Simon?” I mean, I knew, of course. Everyone knows. Romeo and Juliet die in the end.

“Simon.” It couldn't go any other way. “Simon!”

I snap my head around. Penny is looking at me. Why is she looking at me? “Simon, are you – crying?” Her eyes turn soft now. I try to unclench my jaw.

“No, I -”

I unclench my hand and touch my cheek. My fingers come back wet. Oh.

“It was just...” I start. “Just such a sad story.”

“It's Romeo and Juliet,” she says. “It's the sad story.” “I know,” I say. “I was expecting it, ob– obviously. But it still – still hit me like a ton of bricks.”

A truckload of bricks. A mountain of them. Even though I was expecting it.

I'm overwhelmed with the urge to count the days left until the end of the school year. How many days before...

I shoot up out of my seat. “How many hours til lunch?” I say and smile at Penny. She smiles back, but I can tell she's still cautious.

“You can't go a minute without thinking about food, can you?” she says and we start walking out of the class room. She tells me about what sentences from Shakespeare she thinks you can still make spells out of. She doesn't notice when I stop at the door. No one's left in the class room. No one sees when I duck down and pick up the crumpled paper Baz put in the bin and shove it in my pocket.

I catch up with Penny.

So, that was that for Magic History. I grab the strap of my backpack a little tighter than I usually would.

I think I'll have sour cherry scones for lunch.

___

After last period, I go to the restroom and perch myself up on the toilet seat. With jittery hands, I pull the crumpled paper from my pocket. I unfold it carefully, then close my eyes. Why did Baz throw this away? It can't just be notes, then. Baz wouldn't throw away his notes, unless he'd copied them carefully into his notebook before. Whatever is on this paper, Baz didn't want anyone to see. It's probably nothing. Just scribbles or maybe a sketch. I shouldn't do this, right? But – it's Baz.

I open my eyes and read. I am your Petrarchan sonnet, you are my Shakespearean tragedy

We are no star-crossed lovers but (You were the sun and I was crashing into you)

Ne'er dare there escape me no greater sigh and ne'er there be a lost soul more forlorn than me, gazing into thy pale blue eye, thou art my most cherished oxy-moron I call you tedious fool though the only fool is me you are my downfall (it's not the only way I fall) How unfair for thy image to be fair

Sanguine, for thy hope, for I am out for blood I will bear this burden, for I am bare

to the snow that burns me, the words that cut I wish we could run, my love runs deep, Fearing how soon we will run out of time Thy face when thou say'st 'wow' makes me say 'woe' I, your antithesis, thou art my rhyme There's no reason Stake my heart, deliver thy killing blow Upend me with bronze curls, torturous lips When thou bitest thy thumb but never thy lips Upend me with smiles, the beauty thou art, fuck you and curse what thou doth to my heart I read it twice. Except for the words he's crossed out, I don't really know what it means. But I do recognize the form and rhyme scheme. We talked about it in Magic History just last week. It's a sonnet. We're watching Shakespeare, and what does Baz do? Write a fucking sonnet. The pretentious arsehole. The complete wanker. Maybe it's a coded message and this is the key to uncovering one of Baz' plots. That would make sense of the fucking gibberish it is. Maybe someone else was meant to pick it up out of the bin. But there'd be easier ways if he wanted to pass something on to Dev or Niall. Maybe he meant for me to find it. No.

I don't fully understand, but my throat runs dry when I read it again. I feel cold again and I bite my lip because I feel like I'll make some noise otherwise. Love. He crossed it out, but it's still there. Baz is talking about love. Aleister Crowley.

Baz doesn't love anyone, or anything. He's a vampire. They can't. Maybe he was making fun of sonnets. Or of Romeo and Juliet. It could be like – creative writing. Fictional. Unreal. But it just feels a little too – honest.

Baz loves his mother. He talks about her like she hung the moon. He loves playing football. He's so fucking good at it, too. He loves school, he puts his entire soul into it. (He has a soul.) He eats Salt and Vinegar Crisps at night.

Crowley. He's in love with someone. No. He's tragically in love with someone. I don't know what to think.

Who? Who would Baz Pitch write tragic sonnets about? Who does he love so much? Is it Agatha? It has to be Agatha. Maybe he thinks he can't be with her. Crowley, why does he make it sound like such a tragedy? He's in love. He should be soaring. He should be happy. He could have anyone. (Well. Not anyone. But it's not like he wants me.) I realize I've hidden here for quite some time; Penny will be worried. I fold the paper carefully in put it back in my pocket. I make my way into the dining hall. Penny is frowning at me, but she's saved me some sour cherry scones.

“Where were you?” she asks.

“What's a Petrarchan sonnet?” I reply.

She pushes the plate with the scones to me.

“They're usually about unrequited love,” her frown deepens. “And they often include oxymorons.” Unrequited love... Baz is in unrequited love? Impossible.

I know what a Shakespearen tragedy is, obviously. It's the plays that don't have a happy ending. The ones that are... tragic. “Oxymoron,” I say. “What's that?”

“It's a self-contradiction. Loving hate, and that kind of stuff. Why? You need help studying? We can meet up later.” “No, it's fine,” I say and start picking one of the scones apart. “Was just wondering.” I am your antithesis... your opposite... Agatha isn't Baz' opposite anything. They're both posh and fancy. Only that Agatha's nice, and Baz is not. (Too much, anyway.)

Stake my heart... That's so dark. Why would Baz write stuff like that? He can have the dances, and the parties, and the fool-headed love. He can have everything.

I wonder why he's underlined the 'moron' in 'oxymoron'. Is he calling them a moron? Maybe they're thick... Baz probably thinks anyone not as smart as him is a moron. That could be anyone, except for Penny.

I've pulled the scone into tiny pieces. I'm not hungry right now, which never happens. But I don't need to eat. I need to know who Baz is in love with. I need to.

“Simon?” Penny says. She's frowning again. “Are you alright? You're not eating?” No.

“Of course. I just, uhm... Need to get some homework done.” “Are you keeping something from me? Remember, no secrets.” “It's... It's not my secret, okay? Just trust me.” If I showed Penny, she could figure out for sure who it's about. But for some reason, I don't want to. Baz is not in the dining room.

___

Baz is sitting on the bed, and all I can think is that he's in love with someone, and he writes sonnets about them, and he calls them moron and the sun and beautiful.

And he thinks he's going to run out of time.

Baz is a hopeless romantic. I didn't think he was before, but now I can see him on candlelight dinners, with roses on Valentine's day, Baz going to the movies, Baz holding hands... Baz has long, slim fingers and his hands are rough and beautiful. Beautiful. I wonder if I could write a sonnet. Not a fancy one, but...

“Baz,” I say and clear my throat.

He looks up from his book and cocks an eyebrow at me.

“Get lost,” he says.

“I just – I -” I pull the paper from my pocket. He drops his book and his eyes widen. He must know what it is, even before I've shown him what it is.

“Where'd you get that?” he demands, but his voice is shaking. He sits up and walks towards me. Not confidently, like usually. His gaze flickers around. His hand reaches out, but he doesn't grab it. (Juliet's hand reaches out...) “I just – I found it -”

“Crowley, Snow, you ever hear of privacy?” Usually, he would snarl at me. Usually, he would just grab the paper from me. I've never seen him lose composure like this.

“Who is it?” I say. My voice is shaking, too. Suddenly, his face snaps shut and his hand shoots forward. I let him take it. It's his. (I know it half by heart.)

“None of your business. None of this is.” “Who is it about?” “Nobody.” He stalks back to his bed, conversation over. Not for me.

“Tell me.” “No.” “Please.”

He stops talking and picks up his book. I know he's trying to ignore me, but I'm not going to let up. I can't. “Why do you even care?” He's not giving me an inch.

The arch of his brow is perfectly formed.

Romeo kills Juliet's cousin. Doesn't that make him a villain, of sorts? It was self-defense, in a way, but still. Shouldn't she hate him? But she loves him anyway... She's such a fool.

“I think you should tell them.” “Have you read the poem at all?” “It's not...” I say. Swallow. “I think you're wrong.” “I'm never wrong.” “Agatha and I aren't together anymore, if you're worried about that.” He's staring at me. His mouth is hanging open. It's Agatha. It has to be.

“Simon...”

“It's Agatha, isn't it?” I feel like crying. His jaw snaps shut.

“Merlin, no,” he says. Is he denying it? No. I think he's serious. (He's giving me an inch.)

“I just... I just think you have a chance.” Agatha doesn't have blue eyes, or bronze curls. I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier. Who has blue eyes and bronze curls? “I don't,” he says. “Did you tell them?” “Ha.”

“Then how do you know?” “I just do. Leave me alone.” He turns away. I won't let him.

“I just want to help. Let me help.”

“Snow.” He sounds so exhausted. Of course he is. He's yearning for someone.

“You don't understand anything.” I want him to call me Simon again. I want to go over to his bed and – do – something. I sit on my own bed and growl at him.

“Maybe I could ask them,” I say. “What they think about you.”

“Merlin, Snow, you want to be my wingman?” “I guess.” “You're ridiculous.” “I'm right.”

Call me Simon.

“We're not even friends.” Right. But not even my worst enemy should be so – so desperately in love. It must hurt so much. (It hurts so much.)

“We could be.” “Don't be insane.” I wonder why he's not picking a fight with me. He's dismissive, but not vicious. I think I've made him vulnerable.

“I'm not going to fight you,” I say then. I'm not going to cry again. I won't. I draw my knees to my chest.

“Of course you're going to fight me,” Baz says. His voice is almost soft.

“You're not going to run out of time,” I whisper. “Is that why it's a tragedy? Because you think you're going to die? You won't. I won't let you.” “Simon,” he says.

Stop calling me Simon. I'm going to cry.

“Are you having me on? Do you really not know who it is?” “No.”

“Are you trying to spare me...” “What?” “Nevermind. Not even Bunce could figure it out?” “I didn't show her.” “Then stop thinking about it.”

“I cant,” I say. Baz' whole face is tense.

“Just pretend this never happened. Treat me the same as before. It doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything.”

It does, though.

“It's not just your poem,” I say. “I just... I don't want us to be Romeo and Juliet.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” “You know what I mean. I don't – I don't want to hurt you.”

“These violent delights...”

I flinch. These violent delights have violent ends is a forbidden spell. When someone is fighting, it kills or heavily wounds both parties. Baz curls in on himself on his bed, but he keeps his gaze fixed on me. “I don't want to fight you. Are you going to fight me?” I ask.

He pauses and keeps looking at me.

“You really haven't figured it out, have you? Crowley, you're such a moron.” A moron? My breath hitches. No. What am I thinking? What the hell am I thinking?

“Who is it?” I say again. “Who's your downfall? Your rhyme? The bloody sun?” He closes his eyes, lips drawn together.

“Stop mocking me,” he rasps out.

“I'm not. Please. I just want to know.”

He opens his eyes a crack and sighs and I know that he's giving in. I'm holding my breath.

“It's you, you fucking numpty.”

I freeze. Everything freezes. I must have misheard. I must have a brain disease. It's impossible. (But I have blue eyes. And I guess my hair could be described as bronze. And if anyone's going to end Baz, it's me. Nobody's going to end Baz.)

“The snow that burns me...” he whispers. “It's your fucking name.”

Baz is not in love with someone else. Thank fuck. Thank Merlin. Thank Aleister fucking Crowley. I can't do anything but stare at him. Baz shakes his head.

“I never should have written that stupid sonnet. But... I couldn't help myself. It was Romeo and Juliet.”

I'm his Shakespearen tragedy. Nicks and slicks.

I sit up and am over on his bed in an instant. He looks alarmed.

“Snow – don't,” he says quietly. He's laid his heart in my palm. He's written a sonnet about me.

“Lets do this, then,” I whisper. I want to lean in and kiss him.

“Do what? What are you talking about?”

He looks like he wants to scoot away from me, but he doesn't move. I want to grab him by the shoulders and never let go.

“Today in class, all I could think about was you,” I say.

I want to let go of his shoulders to bury my hands in his hair.

“About how much you want to kill me?” he says, a self-deprecating tone in his voice.

“No. About how I don't want to kill you. Mostly about your hair.” “What about my hair?” He touches it self-consciously. I want to take every bad thought out of his brain and throw them to the merwolves.

“About how I want to touch your hair.” I lean closer.

“About how you're more beautiful than Romeo.” I carefully raise my hand. He doesn't move away. His hair is so soft.

“About how Juliet is a fool for being in love with a villain.” His eyes are so beautiful. He lets me take his hand.

“But he's not a villain,” I whisper. “Not really.” “Snow,” he says stiffly. “You do know – that Romeo and Juliet is a cautionary tale.”

“If it's really – if you're really – then I don't care. Is it really about me?” I lean in even closer until my nose nearly touches his. Does he want this? Do I want this? I do. So much. For how long have I wanted this?

“Yes,” he chokes out. “Of course it's you. Who else would it be?” “How? How can you -”

I want him to lean forward. I'm so short of grabbing him by his shirt. And then he gives me another one of these sighs, and I know that I have him. Just give me the word. Just give me the word, and you can have it all.

“How do I love thee?” he says and his hand comes up. My nose brushes against his. “Let me count the ways.” He runs his fingers through my hair. It's so good.

“I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach,” he says.

He's reciting poetry at me. Merlin.

“And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart,” he mutters. “I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart.” His lips are cool against mine. I press into him. I want him to have it all. I want to put my heart on a platter and let him take it.

“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair,” he says. It's like he's singing. “I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body. I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.” Is that a vampire thing? I don't care, he can have it all. “Our love it was stronger by far than the love of those who were older than we, of many far wiser than we,” he says. He's singing into my mouth. “And neither the angels in heaven above nor the demons down under the sea,” his breath goes heavy, “can ever dissever my soul from the soul of the beautiful Simon Snow.”

His voice is enchanting. I grab him and pull. I want to tie our hearts together. Chamber by chamber.

“What's in a name?” he says. “That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

It's Romeo and Juliet.

“With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out, and what love can do, that dares love attempt: Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.”

“Do you mean that?” “Yes. I mean it all. The Mage, his men, my family, no one can stop me. No spell can stop me. No sword.”

“You need to stop,” I say, but I'm smiling. “You're going to make me cry.”

That only spurs him on, of course. Baz has always loved making me cry.

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

I'm addicted to his lips, and to the smell of cedar and bergamot.

“Dost thou love me?” he says then and pulls back a little to look at me. There's a question in his eyes. And I don't know any poetry by heart. (But I want to give him everything.) I make a noise in the back of my throat and try to think of something stupidly romantic to say. He's reciting love poetry at me. He wrote me a sonnet. He's given me every love confession there is. How am I supposed to top that?

Baz' lips turn down at the corners.

“Sorry,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I got carried away. You don't need to answer.”

He goes in for another kiss, but I put my hands to his chest and push him away.

“Sorry,” he says again. “It's just part of the play. I forgot myself.” He swallows and looks down. If I took every single dark thought of his, the merwolves could have a feast. I grab his face and he looks back up at me. His heart is in my hands. He's so eloquent, he knows a thousand ways to say that he loves me. He loves me. He loves me. I can't believe I've never thought of this before. (Maybe I have.) It's the best idea ever.

I only have one word.

“Yes.” “What?

“Yes, I dost love thou.” He smiles.

“That is so not how it works,” he says.

“Then how?” “I can't remember,” he says and giggles. Aleister Crowley. He's my Romeo.

“Do we have to be a tragedy?” I say and pull him in again. “You think?” “No,” he says and laughs. It's the most beautiful sound. “We can be anything you want us to be. I could cast a sonnet right now.”

“You wrote one. You wrote me a sonnet. That's embarrassing.”

I laugh, too.

“Shut up,” he says. I'd cross every line for him. And I embrace him and his hair tickles my neck and I tell him to talk poetry to me and deep into the night he whispers sweet everythings into my ear. I'm a fool for him. I'll take him to the school dance. I'll put him in a costume. I'll keep him safe and sound. I'll hold his hand. I'll run my fingers through his hair.

I refuse to believe we're star-crossed lovers.

This time, I believe, the stars are aligning just right.

#are people still reading fanfiction on tumblr?#carry on fanfiction #snowbaz fanfiction #carry on #snowbaz

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theonyxpath · 5 years ago

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In honor of his birthday being celebrated today in the US, we can now reveal that the first US President, George Washington, was a feared foe of the supernatural!

When they said that he “had wooden teeth”, that wasn’t literal. It was a code and a metaphor for how many vampires he had impaled with sharpened wooden weapons. We’re still working on what is meant when he’s said to be “made of radiation”.

Actually, I have no idea if George shows up in Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition – but I do know that HtV2e‘s Kickstarter campaign is well over 200% funded and moving right along.

Thanks to everybody who has backed so far, and we really appreciate your thoughtful comments! The KS Comments page has been filled with cool ideas for Hunter games, as has our Forums here at Onyx Path central. Keep those comments coming, folks! I know that developer Monica Valentinelli has been keeping notes for her final dev pass.

No promises that she can or will tweak anything before layout, but I’m sure that once we get the Backer PDF out, she’ll look at those notes as well as errata from backers.

Which reminds me to remind you about a few things with our Kickstarters!

NH: Nameless and Accursed art by Tilen Javornik

First, and this applies to our Advance PDFs like the recently released Night Horrors: Spilled Blood for Vampire: The Requiem 2e as well, we include a link to an errata sheet specifically because we want to catch layout glitches, terminology misuse, confusing or contradictory setting or rules info, missing info (especially when the text might be bringing an element of one edition into the newest edition), and more.

So, since we’re looking for those sorts of things, it’d be really helpful if folks chose to send us the things that don’t quite add up via the errata link. Because the Advance PDF, the Backer PDF, and the Kickstarter Preview Text, are not the unalterable text you might once have purchased as a book in a store. Although, if nobody sends us errata about a problem, and we don’t independently catch it, it will soon be locked into final book form – that’s why I ask.

Another thing about our Kickstarters, is that we are aiming for our next one to be for our new Legendlore TTRPG game book. More on that in the next couple of weeks as we head towards that KS.

Here’s a reminder for folks who need help with their Kickstarters: Jazzy James Bell is the guy to talk to for all your Kickstarter needs. He has been running them since Cavaliers of Mars‘ KS several years ago. And if you do use the Contact link on one of our Kickstarters, that message goes to James. I know my name is still on half the KSs we do, but that’s because our original account was in my name.

When I set it up, I wasn’t even sure I could just use Onyx Path as the KS Creator. It was that long ago! So now, today, we have a Rich Thomas KS account and an Onyx Path KS account. Which means that James can set up a KS on one account while the other has a KS running on it. This is very helpful for us in terms of avoiding massive downtime between KSs.

Because everybody has an idea of what new Kickstarter campaigns we should run for their favorite games. We can’t (and won’t) be able to have every project folks want a KS for, but we can time out the ones we are doing more efficiently.

Which might mean we get one more run that we normally would have in a year, but which absolutely means that James (and all our crew, but James in particular) has the time and isn’t too exhausted to run them!

V5 Chicago By Night art by Amy Wilkins

What Happens After All These Kickstarters?

Thank you for asking! We have a perfect example right now with V5 Chicago By Night having shipped out to backers last month. This week, Chicago is live in stores and with that happening, we’ll be releasing the PDF/PoD versions on DTRPG this Wednesday!

Let me break that down: The Kickstarter backers received their backer reward copies of the V5 Chicago By Night traditionally printed hardcovers. Meanwhile, our two sales partners, Studio2 in the US, and Modiphius for everywhere else, solicited the game distributors and retailers.

This week, the stores who ordered during that solicitation have or are getting their books so they can sell them in their stores. Also, on Wednesday, we open the PDF and physical book PoD versions up for purchase on DTRPG. So, at that point, you can get the traditionally printed version from stores, including online ordering from our friends at Indie Press Revolution, and if you prefer, the PDF and PoD versions can be ordered from DTRPG.

All those venues are so that our community can get their avid hands on this absolutely superb V5 version of Chicago By Night (in a lot of ways it best shows how the ideas in the first three core books can be concretely utilized around your table) in the version you most prefer for your enjoyment. And believe me, there is a lot to enjoy in this book!

As you can tell, it’s kind of a big thing for us.

Distant Worlds art by Gunship Revolution

Tell Me About This Blog!

Finally, it’s my bi-annual request for feedback on this blog itself. What feature do you always read? Which one do you skip past every week?

It’s OK to say you skip all of my actual blog each week. Really. I’ll just be in the corner, sobbing.

Although actually, if you do skip it each week, then you won’t notice this request for feedback, so I’m in the clear!

But, if you can, please do be honest in your thoughts on what is working, or not, here on the blog. I’ve got some ideas for changes, but I don’t want to take anything away from you, our loyal readers, that a lot of you are actually enjoying, but I’m not hearing about

That way, we can be sure you’re getting the info you need to explore our:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

Kickstarter!

Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition for Chronicles of Darkness is still ferociously on the hunt! We funded and are shooting right through Stretch Goals, like the Storyteller Screen Stretch Goal and the Tending the Flame: Cells chapter for the Hunter Players’ Companion! With lots more to come!

Onyx Path Media!

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast features an interview with writer and creator Josh Heath. Josh is writing for Onyx Path, and is also putting up all kinds of projects on our Community Content sites like Storypath Nexus and Pugmire‘s Canis Minor, and other sites! As always this Friday’s Onyx Pathcast will be on Podbean or your favorite podcast venue! https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

Another jam-packed schedule for you on Twitch this week! You can look forward to Vampire: The Masquerade, Chronicles of Darkness, Scion, Pugmire, two fantastic, new chronicles of Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition, MORE Vampire: The Masquerade, Changeling: The Lost, Changeling: The Dreaming, Mage: The Awakening, Scarred Lands, Werewolf: The Forsaken and a third Vampire: The Masquerade game!

Our Twitch stream has never had so much content.

A special shout-out to both of the Hunter: The Vigil games running this week, which along with the Kickstarter are drawing quite an audience! You can subscribe to our channel over on twitch.tv/theonyxpath to catch up with any episodes you missed!

Come take a look at our YouTube channel, youtube.com/user/theonyxpath, where you can find the following videos uploaded last week alone:

Hunter: The Vigil Hometown Heroes: https://youtu.be/8dqdt6sy6Ws

Eddy Webb’s Workshop: Dystopia Rising Evolution Development: https://youtu.be/Aj6MRIUQ5Fo

Blood City: Chicago by Night: https://youtu.be/UVHhO-3W7sA

Scion: Behind the Screen: https://youtu.be/AGhw0vOPK-c

Pugmire: Paws & Claws: https://youtu.be/rRTCT1O680U

A special shout-out to the Blood City crew who have been running a fantastic Vampire: The Masquerade chronicle using V5 Chicago by Night. Do check out their chronicle on our YouTube channel!

In case you missed it last week, Ekorren gives us a fantastic deep dive into the Trinity Continuum here in this excellent video: https://youtu.be/Vk0UJbWijtg

More new Occultists Anonymous for all you Mage: The Awakening fans out there:

Episode 80: Collected Thoughts With Songbird recovered from his ordeal with a vampire, the cabal reconvene at the Rookery Sanctum and journey into the Temenos. They search tour through Pottery and Art and… Valhalla?! https://youtu.be/vImtFvc6NPw

Episode 81: Mirror Match The cabal continues their travels in the Temenos searching for symbols of Wyrd, and since they’re there, maybe a few trophies of their own… https://youtu.be/bBVbV9nmd3o

Red Moon Roleplaying continue their actual play of V5 Cults of the Blood Gods, on their YouTube channel, Spotify, their website redmoonroleplaying.com and everywhere else good podcasts might be found! https://youtu.be/hCM3aKucS7s

The Story Told Podcast are on the second episode of their excellent Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition – The 78 Laments – game right here: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/the-78-laments-episode-2

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these latest fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And NOW Scion Origin and Scion Hero AND Trinity Continuum Core and Trinity Continuum: Aeon are available to order!

As always, you can find Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we will be releasing the PDF and physical book PoD versions of V5 Chicago By Night on DTRPG!

Accept no substitutes: Chicago is the city of vampires.

Claim a haven on the Gold Coast. Carve a place of this bustling metropolis for yourself.

Subjugate a handful of the living on Michigan Avenue. Take a few deep drinks from some of the intoxicating vessels we have around here.

Discover the nightlife. Come visit the Succubus Club, the Blue Velvet, or Red Noº 5, if they’ll let you in. The guest list is pretty damn exclusive.

Introduce yourself to the Ventrue Prince. Get to know his vision. Buy into it. Serve it. Stay on his good side and your immortality is going to be just fine.

Just ignore the purges of Anarchs, Thin-Bloods, and fledglings when it grows inconvenient, yeah? Stay invested in the Camarilla and it’ll stay invested in you. Remember who’s got your back and who can take that backing away in the blink of an undead eye.

Chicago can be everything for a vampire like you.

You just have to accept Chicago into your heart. Become a part of the city.

Chicago by Night includes:

A history of Chicago from multiple vampire perspectives and accounts of the domain as it exists in the modern nights, along with systems for how to run this city like the twisted, dysfunctional machine it is

An introduction for the Clan of Night’s entry to the Camarilla and rules for playing Lasombra in Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition, including their Discipline of Oblivion.

Over 50 individual Kindred with biographies, ambitions, secrets, relationships, and reasons for inclusion in any given chronicle, along with fiction illustrating these characters and key locations around the city.

A multitude of chronicle hooks covering everything from the Beast and the Hunger to Humanity and Hierarchy, and a single large chronicle in which the Lasombra make it their mission to join the elite ranks of the Camarilla.

Coteries illustrating the factionalism of Chicago’s Kindred and new coterie examples for your characters.

Loresheets for characters new to or already based in Chicago, providing players easy ways to integrate their characters into the book’s many stories.

Conventions!

More conventions will be listed for 2020 in the weeks to come-

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Contagion Chronicle Ready-Made Characters (Chronicles of Darkness)

RUST (Working Title) (Scarred Lands)

Under Alien Suns (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Mission Statements (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Adversaries of the Righteous (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Novas Worldwide (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Exalted Essence Edition (Exalted 3rd Edition)

The Clades Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

The Devoted Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

Saints and Monsters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Redlines

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Hundred Devil’s Night Parade (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Adventure! core (Trinity Continuum: Adventure!)

TC: Aberrant Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

They Came From Beyond the Grave! (They Came From!)

Second Draft

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Duke Rollo fiction (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Development

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

Manuscript Approval

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

Post-Approval Development

Scion LARP Rules (Scion)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Editing

Geist 2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Mythical Denizens (Creatures of the World Bestiary) (Scion 2nd Edition)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Buried Bones: Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

Post-Editing Development

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Let the Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Indexing

ART DIRECTION FROM MIKE CHANEY!

In Art Direction

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant

Hunter: The Vigil 2e (KS) – Running on KS.

Ex3 Lunars

Cults of the Blood God (KS)

Mummy 2 (KS)

City of the Towered Tombs – Recontracted.

Let the Streets Run Red – Contracted.

CtL Oak Ash and Thorn – Finals coming in this week.

Deviant

Legendlore (KS) – All notes out by today for KS.

Technocracy Reloaded (KS)

Scion Companion – Contacted.

TC: Aeon Terra Firma – Contracted.

WoD: Ghost Stories (KS) – Cover contracted.

Tales of Aquatic Terror

Pirates Extra Adventure – Contracted.

In Layout

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad – Ongoing.

Scion Mythical Denizens – In proofing but need some full page art to come in.

Contagion Chronicle – With Josh.

Vigil Watch – Art finals coming in today.

TCfBtS!: Heroic Land Dwellers

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed – Waiting for cover art, then to proofing.

TCFBtS! Screen and Booklet

Proofing

Dark Eras 2 – Errata being annotated and then back to Aileen.

Trinity Continuum Aeon Jumpstart

They Came from Beneath the Sea! – Off for pageXXing.

Chicago Folio – Out to backers for errata.

Trinity Continuum Aeon: Distant Worlds – Notes back from dev.

Pirates of Pugmire – Gotta go over this today.

At Press

V5: Chicago – PDF and PoD versions on sale at DTRPG this Wednesday!

Geist 2e (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition) – Shipping to backers, PoD files uploaded.

Geist 2e Screen – Shipping to backers.

DR:E – At fulfillment shippers, PoD files uploaded.

DRE Screen – At fulfillment shippers.

DR:E Threat Guide – Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties

Memento Mori – PoD proof ordered.

Trinity Continuum: Aeon RMCs – PoD proof ordered.

Wraith20 Anthology – PoD proof ordered.

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Long time readers of this MMN Blog may note that a lot of Reasons to Celebrate are focused on national US holidays. Which in the US are celebrated on Mondays, due to the Uniform Monday Holiday Act which was put into effect so we in the US could have more official three-day weekends, and our weekly staff meeting that leads into this blog is also on Monday. Today is President’s Day. Or Presidents’ Day. Or George Washington’s Birthday. So, with all due respect to our first president, and according to folklore the man who refused to be king, this is a weird one:

Even though George Washington’s birthday was February 22nd, the day is officially celebrated on the third Monday in February.

Even though Presidents’ Day is a federal holiday, each state is free to call it what they choose and how to celebrate.

Washington’s Birthday can never occur on the public holiday. Under the Gregorian calendar Washington’s Birthday was 22 February, but the holiday is observed on the third Monday in February, which cannot occur any later than February 21.

Like I said, weird. But that in and of itself is Reason to Celebrate! Let’s hear it for a bit of weird in the midst of everything else we deal with!

#Onyx Path Publishing

1 note · View note

make-it-mavis · 6 years ago

Text

All Work and No Play

Wreck-it Ralph fic (main timeline, post-Roadblasters, pre-Sugar Rush) Comedy/Romance 6370 words Characters: Make-it Mavis, Turbo Content warnings: dirty humor, brief sensuality, themes of burnout/depression

Premise: Unable to sleep, Mavis stays up practicing drawing objects. Turbo joins her and convinces her to draw something more fun. While they both have a good time, Turbo has a few things left to say on the matter, and, as usual, Mavis is reluctant to listen.

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Mavis never considered herself afraid of the dark, per se.

She had long ago set up curtains around her camp in Fix-it Felix Jr., trying to capture and contain the glow of her stolen lights and hide the vast, dark forest from her mind. On the nights she spent in Turbo's trailer, she was grateful for what little sunlight that managed to intrude through the tiny slits of space between the blackout shutters, just enough to highlight the shapes of furniture and belongings. But it was not the dark she truly feared -- it was the space. It was even just the illusion of space. Wide, open darkness with no visible end just needled toxic flashbacks into her brain, memories of the time she spent trapped in her game's code space. Smaller, enclosed spaces were protection from the fear that she would float away in her sleep, never to find her way back, never to be seen again.

Unfortunately, that security was sometimes hard to firmly hold onto during nights in the abandoned wall socket that was Turbo's hideout. The chamber was not unreasonably large, and there was some minuscule illumination from the hole in the socket, but it was not enough to clearly touch all the walls or the far corners.

It was not worthy of a panic attack, but sometimes, it was enough to keep her awake, even just out of the knowledge that she would have a nightmare if she fell asleep.

So, on a night in late spring, Make-it Mavis sat awake, alone in the direct, dim light from the arcade outside. With her sketchbook in hand, and her sleeping attire just a tank top and panties, she figured the mental stimulation and the somewhat chilly air on her bare skin would be enough to keep her from drifting off.

Too tired for extensive creativity, she merely drew miscellaneous objects and weapons, the usual effort to keep in practice so she could accurately produce said items with her brush. If she could not draw it, she could not paint it.

A few pages in, beginning to run out of ideas, she glanced around the room in thought, and had a mini heart attack at the sight of two distant yellow eyes peering through the darkness. In one way or another, Turbo had woken up in the corner where they slept.

"Mav?" she heard him say groggily.

"Hey," she replied. "Did I wake you up?"

"Uh," the glow disappeared for a moment as his eyes closed, "I dunno. Maybe? It's fine."

"'Kay," she said softly, looking down at her blank page again.

After a moment, he asked, "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah," she nodded. "I'm fine. Just can't sleep, so I figure I might as well do something."

From the corner, she heard rustling, grunting, and stumbling footsteps. Turbo approached, a blanket around his shoulders, and two pillows under his arm. His hair was a mess, part of it flattened against the side of his head, part of it trying to fly away to freedom. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Just drawing," she shrugged.

A pillow hit her in the face, thrown by Turbo. After a grumbled thanks, she put it behind her back. Turbo then plopped himself down next to her. Sizing her up, he said, "Ain't ya cold?"

"Don't fuss," she mumbled, drawing a small spiral. "I'm fine."

He threw half of the blanket over her shoulders anyway, scooting right up against her body. Fresh out of bed, he was even warmer than usual. It was more inviting than she cared for at the moment.

"Whatcha drawin'?"

"So full of questions," she observed, glancing at him with a quirked brow.

"I woke up into immediate, crippling boredom, Mav," he exhaled. "Forgive me. Indulge me."

She scoffed. "Okay. But I ain't drawin' anything interesting."

"Why not?"

"'Cause my brain is half asleep, and I need to practice drawing new stuff."

"Huh," he breathed, perplexed. "So, even now, you're working."

Mavis' brow furrowed, and she drew more swirls. "Yeah, so what? I'm just gettin' better at bein' productive. I gotta be if we're ever gonna get you outta here."

Turbo was quiet for a moment.

"Draw something fun," he insisted.

She laid her pencil flat against the page and sighed tiredly. "Like what, T?"

"You really got no ideas?"

"Like I said, I'm real tired."

"Well, a'ight, how about this," he presented his idea to her on his open palm. "I give a prompt, and you draw the first thing that comes into your head."

She rubbed her brow. "Why?"

"'Cause you're bein' boring."

With an irritated glance, she said, "I'm not boring."

"I know."

Partially fueled by spite, and partially genuine interest, she agreed to the game. "Okay, fine," she shrugged. "What's your first prompt? First thing that pops into your head."

"Rumble," he said immediately.

"Wow. That was fast."

"Y'said 'first thing.'"

"Well, alright," she stared at the page, preparing to carve something out of it. "Rumble."

Latching onto her first bizarre idea, she set to work, her pencil moving fast and loud, barely taking time to erase. Mashing together her knowledge of animals and machines, she drew the lovechild of a tiger and a motorcycle. It was essentially a tiger with a bike for a body. As she was paying particular attention to its snarling mouth, Turbo snickered.

"What the hell is that?"

"Tigerbike, obviously," she said, unable to keep from smiling. "A rumbling motorcycle and a rumbling tiger… Y'know, growlin' and junk."

"That really was the first thing y'thought of, huh?"

"Of course. Does this look, in any way, planned?"

"No, no it does not," he said, leaning in to point out one fatal flaw. "If you'd planned it, you'd have realized exhaust smoke should be shooting from its ass."

That made her snort. "Devs above, how did I miss that?"

"You're off your game, Make-it," he chuckled as she drew crude black clouds trailing out of its rear end.

"Cut, print, done--"

"Wait, wait, wait," he delicately lifted a hand in protest, and took up the pencil. On the tigerbike's back, he drew a tiny stick figure wearing a helmet, sporting a grin and a triumphant thumbs up.

"That's me," he pointed, grinning.

Mavis burst into wheezing laughter. "What? The hell?"

"Well, obviously I'm the only sprite alive who could tame Tigerbike, Mav!" he said in mock outrage.

"Why are you so tiny?!"

"I'd like to think Tigerbike is inconceivably huge," he grinned.

Mavis cackled, "That's perfect. I'm gonna frame this."

"Wanna do another?"

"Y'know what? Hell yeah," she flipped to the next page, pencil at the ready. "Hit me with another."

"A'ight," he smacked his tongue. "Meteor shower."

Her brows raised. "Ooh. How pretty."

"Show me what ya got, kiddo," he shrugged with a smile.

Mavis pondered for about two seconds before an idea hit her. It was so stupid that she snickered out loud, but she shook her head and went with it.

"That's a good sign," Turbo observed, a smile in his voice.

"You're gonna love this," she muttered, her wrist working wildly. This one took way less time, a far cartoonier style than Tigerbike. Mavis and Turbo both chuckled as the idea came to life on paper, until she finally leaned back and showed Turbo the full masterpiece.

It was, quite literally, a meteor shower. Three meteorites stood in a group shower, lathering themselves up with their tiny stick arms.

It took Turbo a second, but then he groaned in the way reserved for any of her horrible puns. With a whimpering, perplexed laugh, he mumbled, "Seriously, Mav? Are you really presenting this to me?"

"No, no, look. You don't get it," she insisted with a grin, pointing at vital details with her pencil. "See, this guy in the middle is totally eyeing up the guy on the left. I mean, like, shameless ogling."

Turbo rubbed his face, half-laughing, half-whining. "No," he pleaded softly.

"Listen," she tapped the paper harder, her voice breaking with laughter. "And, like, the guy on the left is actually super into it, but he's actin' all oblivious n' blushy because the guy on the right is there, and he's-- I mean, he's just some regular guy."

"Mav--"

"AND, and, guy on the left isn't into PDA or anythin' 'cause he's just a boring freakin' space rock--"

Turbo cackled.

"And he doesn't wanna make the guy on the right like, an unwilling third party or some crap like that, but after they're all done n' the guy on the right's gone home, you know the other two are gettin' it on in the locker room."

Turbo put out his hand. "Mav, do me a favor. Please illustrate for me just how two spherical rocks get busy."

She sputtered. "Well, let's see, I mean, it'd be hard--"

"Ha."

"There'd be a lot of rolling, and-- hah, hard-- and just, like, tryna smash together like big ol' pool balls--" she drew a short series of pairs of rocks clacking off each other, trying in vain to hold onto the other with their tiny stick arms, getting stuck on their bellies. Turbo wheezed through the whole thing.

"Wait, okay, wait," he interjected, "what if they sorta worked like flint, and they threw off sparks when they really got goin'?"

"Oh, my Devs," she gasped. "What if everyone shot fire outta their junk when they came?"

"WHAT?"

"I mean! Y'better keep a fire extinguisher around and be really good at pullin' out or you'll get yourself some serious property damage and cook your partner from the inside literally every time you smash! There'd be like, safe sex ads in every port, and Surge would be handin' out free fire extinguishers left n' right!"

"Mavis what the hell?!" he wheezed, his eyes glistening from laughter. "Though, I gotta say, as far as horrible deaths go, death from screwin' don't sound like the worst."

"At least you got laid, is what you're sayin'?"

"Yeah. At least the last thing y'knew was the sweet throes of orgasm."

"So you're tellin' me," she poked him, "gettin' burned alive from the inside would be worth it just to get laid?"

"Wh-- I wouldn't go into it with the intent of gettin' fried to death, Mavis! I'm just sayin', theoretically if that unfortunate accident did occur…" he paused. "And, I mean, honestly, if the lay was, honest to the Devs, really to die for--"

"Turbo," she interrupted, her stomach beginning to ache from laughter. "Gimme another prompt, already!"

"Okay, okay, cool your jets!" He licked his lips. "Uh… sunshine."

"Huh. Gettin' sappy on me, here?"

"Just playin' the game, Mav."

Sunshine. She let that word sink in. She loved sunshine. The light, the warmth, the way it brought out the color of everything it touched. She knew Turbo liked it, too. It had to have reminded him of home… It occurred to her then, just how much he must have missed it.

An image suddenly came to mind. But she cheated just a bit and twisted it into something more manageable. They were having fun. She did not want to suddenly drag big ol' emotions into it.

Taking a bit more time with this one, she drew a lovely, grassy hill, speckled with flowers. She then drew herself rolling down that hill… very unceremoniously, as if by accident. She was a bouncing, tangled ball of limbs, throwing up dirt, grass, and flowers beneath her. And close behind, she drew Turbo falling the exact same way.

Watching over her shoulder, Turbo's chuckles had taken on a confused air. "Oookay," he muttered. "What am I lookin' at here, babe?"

"I'unno," she shrugged. "We're having a race. In the sunshine."

"And you're winning? Sounds fake."

"Okay, jackass. What if I told you there were jagged rocks at the bottom of the hill?" She drew crude spikes at the bottom. "Would you still wanna win?"

"Absolutely."

"Wow."

"So what's the real reward for winning, other than broken bones and bragging rights? It's always more fun with a reward."

She considered that. "Uh… I don't know, maybe the loser has to pick the winner a bouquet of flowers. I sure drew enough of 'em."

He paused. "A bouquet of flowers."

"Yeah, I mean…" she shrugged, suddenly wanting to backpedal. "Sprites get flowers for winning sometimes, right? Like, a medal and a big blooming bouquet, or whatever."

"Uh huh… so where's this medal?"

Mavis shoved him just a bit. "Gee, I'unno, T, why don't ya go pick one off the medal tree, ya greedy bastard. Y'said 'sunshine.' Sunshine makes flowers."

"It was a joke," he scoffed. Ruffling her hair, he said, "It's cute ya wanna pick me flowers."

Playfully swatting his hand away, she protested, "Maybe y'didn't hear me right -- I said that pickin' you flowers would be a punishment for losing."

"Sure," he leaned his head a bit closer, "but of course, y'must have known you were gonna lose anyway, ergo…"

Mavis looked at him, silently bearing that strange emotion that she felt only for him, wherein she could be irritated, but still know that Turbo being annoying usually meant he was in a good mood. And it was good to see him in a good mood, with how many reasons he had not to be. After so many nights of seeing him deep in program withdrawal, and literally sharing the pain as his glitching bled into her, but holding him close anyways… She could tolerate annoying teasing if it meant he was happy.

It took her a moment to realize that he had gone silent, too. He was still smiling, leaning his head back against the wall, but looked calmer, more thoughtful. There was something peculiar about the way he looked at her, and it made her antsy.

"What?" she asked softly.

He blinked slowly, and his smile pulled into his cheek a bit. Tweaking her nose, he said, "Nothin'."

Suspicious, but not wanting to question him on it, Mavis cleared her throat and tried to move things along. She turned to a new page in her sketchbook. "Well, what do you think? Got another prompt for me?"

This time, he was quiet. She almost wondered if he did not want to play anymore, but with a glance at him, she determined that he was thinking about it more than he was supposed to. He was gazing straight ahead, right through the socket, into the arcade. His lips were pressed into a hard line, and he was lightly tapping his thumbs together. He seemed reluctant… almost anxious.

"Hey," Mavis said. "You're not supposed to think about it."

"Yeah, yeah." He did not look at her. "I got one for ya. Fun."

She was not expecting that answer. It felt so broad, compared to the other ones. "...Fun, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, rolling his head back and peering down his cheek at her. "Draw what that makes you think of."

She squinted. There was some kind of ulterior motive there that had her suspicious. Still, she shrugged. "Okeydokey, weirdo."

Fun, fun, fun. Images and colors fought for the forefront of her brain, but she could not hear one single, solid idea through the overlapping noises in her head. It did not take long for her to decide that she had been thinking too hard. She was making it way harder than it had to be. Willing to just get it over with, she put pencil to paper, closed her eyes, and let her hand follow the flow of her thoughts.

As she listened to the graphite scratching, she realized that she had been having so much trouble because ‘fun' was manifesting in her head as feelings and not one specific concept. It felt like… a thrill, a rush, a genuine high. It was triumphant victory and motivating failure. It was acrobatics, dizzying aerial maneuvers, falling, flying. Wild, messy rainbows. Loud music and explosions she could feel in her chest. Fireworks. Theatrics. Clever pranks. Stupid pranks. Petty crime. Booze, bad decisions, rough sex, risky business. It was what she lived for. It was in her code just as much as her paintbrush.

She really believed it was the core of her very being.

A minute passed before she opened her eyes and observed her work. It was just about as cluttered, ugly, and near-incomprehensible as she expected. Hard lines criss-crossed with no rhyme or reason. Shapes and figures overlapped until they were nearly unrecognizable, but she could make out a few. There was a guitar, a trumpet, a drum, and music notes. There were glass bottles, many broken. There were bits of confetti and paint splatter that would have been rainbow. Somewhere, there was a suspiciously phallic shape. But more than anything, there were clouds, feathers, and wings.

It was hideous. She liked it.

Turbo’s weight pushed against her a bit as he leaned in to see. “All done?”

“Yep. Whatcha think?"

He was quiet for a moment before making a comment. “Don't see much of that stuff in here, huh.”

She looked at him with slight concern. He just looked thoughtful. She frowned, wondering if confinement was particularly making him depressed that night. There truly were very few ways to have fun the way they used to, being locked up in a box. A pang of sympathy tapped in her chest, and she subconsciously rubbed his leg a bit, comfortingly.

Turbo just looked at her hand with apparent confusion, and then at her with a serious brow. "Uh, no," he said flatly. "I wanna know when you last did any of those things."

She blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"Y'heard me."

After an automatic moment's thought, she realized an upsetting thing. She really could not remember off the top of her head. But there was something about Turbo's tone that felt accusatory, and her guard went up.

"When am I ever not doing these things?"

"Really?" His expression fell flat. "When was the last time you pulled a prank? Or flew around, just for the fun of it? You sure don't fly in here."

"I can't fly in here," she protested. "There's no room."

"Exactly!"

She huffed. "If you have something to say, T, will you just say it?"

He bit back words for a moment, his brow furrowing as he reconsidered, before he sighed and smacked his tongue. "Mav, you've been workin' way too hard."

She withdrew a bit. "Seriously? You're mad at me for working to get you out of here?"

Turbo sighed, briefly rubbing his face. "I ain't mad, I'm… Look, you're workin' too much. It ain't like you."

She scoffed. "I ain't a hard worker?"

He burst into a chuckle. "Are y'serious?"

Face getting hot, she bristled. "Be fair, T. I work real hard when I actually care about something."

He went quiet, and his gaze fell a bit. She could not help but look away, too. It was hard to talk about just how badly she wanted him out, how hard it was to see him in a cage, sick and suffering. And in her day to day life… she was lonely. She missed her other half. There seemed little she would not have done to have him back.

The hard work and sleepless nights, it was almost all for his sake. But it was really for hers, too.

Turbo spoke again, a very real exasperation in his voice. "Look, ya gotta know at least that if y'don't pace yourself, your engine's gonna burn out, n' then you won't be able to work at all. Does that sound good to you?"

"I'm not burning out," she mumbled. "I'm fine. I get enough of a break when I come hang out in here. I mean-- when we're not still working."

He waited again, and she could feel him looking at her. "Mav… take a break."

"I've been takin' too many breaks."

"Obviously, you're not. Take a longer break."

Idly, she drew small bubbles on her already cluttered drawing. "So… what, like a weekend?"

"Try a whole week."

"A week?" Her gaze snapped to him in disbelief. "I-- I-- No, I can't take a week off. That new motorcycle game just got plugged in and I haven't even been inside yet. I feel like we're so close to figuring something out--"

"Can I draw something?"

"...What?"

"Gimme your sketchbook," he beckoned at it.

"Uh, sure, knock yourself out," she said, tossing the book and pencil in his lap. Turbo sure was acting weird that night. She was beginning to just accept it.

As he began to draw, she put her face in her hands and pushed curled fingers through her hair. In a sighing, apologetic voice, she said, "Look, T, it's not like I don't appreciate your, uh… concern. Well-- Not like it ain’t also real annoying, but... It's just that-- I'm-- I don't even think I could relax if I took a week off. I'd just be stressing about all I could be gettin' done, and thinkin' about all the days I was settin' us back…"

Turbo did not reply, or even look at her. His focus remained on the paper against his bent knees. Ever since he ended up in the socket, he had been drawing more and more. She would find his artwork littering the floor almost as much as his notes. It was endearing to see.

Suddenly feeling as sad as she was tired, she scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, watching him work. It was always sort of hypnotic. Turbo had such a unique drawing style, evolved from years of blueprints and mechanic work -- he seemed to think almost entirely in perfectly clean lines and sharp angles. His work was abstract and boxy, rarely illustrating any clear figure, but beautiful in its own right. More often than not, it looked so pristine, one might have thought a machine printed it. And indeed, as she watched, his arm moved so mechanically, as if his skeleton were made of metal. She would not have been surprised if it was.

Letting her eyes follow the motion of his hand made her eyelids heavy. As curious as she was about his drawing, she just could not keep her eyes open.

Mumbling softly, she said, "I can't sit back and do nothing. Not while there's anything I could do. So, just… let me do this. I'll be fine. I know how to--"

The rough scrape of paper against her legs perked her up as Turbo shoved the sketchbook back into her lap and the pencil clattered to the floor. When she opened her eyes, squinting through the sleepy fog, she saw what she expected -- a geometrical contour drawing. However, as her eyes adjusted and she began to decipher the abstract figures, she saw something entirely unexpected.

Flowers.

Confusion was her first response. Why flowers? Turbo was hardly a flowery guy, much less one to give flowers.

Then she remembered their prior conversation. The prize flowers. The ones the loser had to pick.

She looked at him, lips parted, brows squinting, in some attempt to understand. He was not looking at her, but rather, glancing around at nothing in particular, tapping his leg.

"I don't--..." she muttered. "Why?"

He grunted, and then barely opened his mouth to grumble, "...Not that many options for flowers in here."

"Well-- well yeah, but…" she looked at the page. "What did I win?"

He shrugged and shook his head. "I'unno, pick something. You're definitely the best at what you're doing. No one else could help me the way you are. And you've gotten so much done. Like, a crazy amount. So, you won. You've earned a break."

Mavis was so thrown for a loop, she almost felt dizzy. The sweet gesture, the sweet words… they were not a common occurrence for him. Granted, they had been growing in frequency ever since the two were reunited, but still…

"I…" she fumbled. "I wasn't competing. I just wanna win you a way outta here."

Turbo rubbed his face. "I cant believe how much convincing it's taking to get you to go goof off."

"...Things are a bit different now."

"I know."

"You want me to go out there and play around the way I used to? The way we used to, together?" Her words proceeded slowly, quietly, and unsteadily, as if they were fragile. A sort of grief weighed down on her heart. "It just… doesn't… feel the same anymore. Even if I tried, I'd just… be thinkin' of you."

He sighed deeply.

She added sadly, shoulders sinking, "Nothin's been the same since I… thought you were gone."

"But I'm here now," he mumbled. "I'm back."

"I know, but… I need you… back. In my life. Again. For real."

Turbo fell silent, but as Mavis studied the crisp lines of the drawing in her lap and idly scratched her foot, she could practically hear words sitting just behind his lips. He was taking his time with them, and she gave him space to do so, mostly because she was almost afraid of what he would say next. What she was about to feel.

Finally, he spoke in a slow, soft voice, “Mav…”

Reluctantly, she looked at him. He had an elbow propped up on his knee, his hand buried in his hair as he leaned his forehead against his palm. His eyes gazed straight ahead into the dim light from the arcade that washed a blue tone over his skin, making the gold glow of his heavy-lidded eyes burn bright in contrast.

She swallowed. “T…?”

He took in a breath through his lips, sat with it, closed his eyes, and let words flow on the exhale. “You remember what I said… that night… about never wantin’ to make you… miserable?”

Mavis’ heart grew tight and heavy at the memory. That night. The last time they spoke before he…

“Yes,” she breathed, not taking her eyes off him.

“And how I said… I’d actually try to keep that from happening?”

“...Yeah.”

He shrugged, flexing his fingers in his hair. “This is… me doin’ that. I’m just tryin’ to keep my word, Mav.”

“Turbo,” she said, gently but firmly squeezing his shoulder, “you’re not making me miserable.”

He looked her plain in the eye. “Tonight’s the first I’ve heard ya laugh in four days.”

She froze. That fact stunned her. That could not have been true, but she had obviously not been keeping track. Had Turbo been keeping track?

In response to her silence, he nodded a bit. “Yeah… Yeah. Doesn’t sound like Make-it Mavis, does it?”

Mavis did not know what to say. Slowly, her gaze fell. Her emotions were too crowded to move in any one direction, but she felt shame begin to simmer in the pit of her stomach. Somehow, she felt that she had done something wrong -- and not in a fun way. She had been trying so hard to help him… but did she just let him down? Did she let herself down?

Turbo took notice of her conflict. He twisted a bit to place his hand on the side of her neck and coax her jaw to tilt up again. “Hey, Mav,” he almost whispered, “don’t be like that. You’ve done good. Really good. It’s… kinda insane actually. It’s very obvious how dedicated you are to-- to helpin’ me, but… workin’ to the point of this, is just… It ain’t you, Mav. It just ain’t you. And I…”

His words caught, and Mavis could see his face clearly wrestling the words. With a bit of a bonk, he rested his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I need you in my life, too… for real.”

It seemed to Mavis that all the heat in her body rushed to her face. Her chest quivered, scrambling for any words to push out, and coming up empty.

Turbo continued anyway, “So, y’know, if you really wanna help me… take… care of yourself, and… stay yourself. Okay?”

Hard memories crashed into the back of her head, memories from the darkest time of her life. She heard echoes of a promise she had made to his memory, a promise that was, in all sincerity, one she made to herself.

She caved.

“Okay,” she nodded slightly.

As he opened his eyes, their glow nearly strained her own. Slowly, his cheeks lifted in a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she sighed hoarsely through her own rueful grin. “You’re right. I need a break. And I’ll take it.”

A truly exhausted sigh of relief washed over her face as he leaned back to give them both some breathing room. “Thank the Devs, finally,” he laughed airily. “Y’stubborn lil’ mule, ya won’t even listen to me when I tell ya to do stuff you wanna do!”

She laughed too, “I’m doin’ it now, jackass!”

“Yeah, just as I started to wonder how much rope I had left ‘til I’d reach the end!”

“Look, I know I’m too good at what I do, so I’ll try my best to get just a little worse,” she smiled, leaning out of his touch. “I’ll play hooky for a week, for starters. And I’ll do…”

“Whatever the hell you want?” he guessed, glancing down his grinning cheek at her.

“I’ll do my damn best, anyway. I would love to at least get some pranks in… I think the sprites out there have had it too easy since I, uh, mysteriously stopped.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, giving a long nod. “That there’s a problem, too. Gotta keep up appearances, Mav. Sprites will know something’s up if you’re suddenly so well behaved that they can leave pies coolin’ on sills.”

“Or balcony doors open.”

“Ah,” he chuckled. “You have not said anythin’ about Gene for ages. When’s the last time ya pranked that guy?”

Unable to remember, she said, “Well, I think I can get him pretty good this weekend. He’s hostin’ someone’s stupid birthday-- I think it’s, uh, Norwood’s, the guy with the cats--”

“PussyMagnet69?”

Mavis’ throat nearly ripped from the size of her surprise cackling.

Turbo joined in, insisting, “That was his name, Mav! How could ya forget?!”

Through tears, she wheezed, “Okay, okay-- But seriously-- I think if I can get in the penthouse early enough-- and I can-- I can switch all his clear alcohol with vinegar--”

Turbo was already keeling into his lap.

She continued, nearly shouting over his laughter, “Then I can make it a party no one will ever forget, and I can make off with a whole buttload of booze!”

Snorting, Turbo threw himself upright again, his hair flying haphazardly. “No, no, you gotta stay at least long enough to see the looks on their faces--” “Well, obviously--”

“And then remember ‘em really well and draw ‘em all out so I can see ‘em too! Damn, why do I gotta miss that?”

“Hey,” she laughed lowly, pushing his shoulder. “I’ll bring ya the drawings, and I’ll bring ya the booze, and then we can get flat out wasted n’ go as wild as this box can-- Well, uh--”

She had forgotten to ask something. Turbo looked at her quizzically.

“I mean, uh,” she said quietly, still managing to hold a smile, “you’ll let me in, right? Am I-- Am I allowed to come back here… on vacation?”

Turbo almost looked stricken, and after a moment’s thought that betrayed a bit of anxiety in his eyes, he said, “Well… obviously. Don’t feel like you gotta or anythin’, though. I’m a grown-ass man, I don’t need a babysitter. But, y’know, if you really wanna come over, you can.”

Mavis’ shoulders dropped and half a scoff slipped out of her. “Of course I wanna hang out with you. Y’kiddin’ me, T?”

For a second, he gave her an uncharacteristically warm half-smile. He chuffed a bit. “Arright,” he said, twisting to open his arms to her and gesture inward. “C’mere. Bring it in.”

Forcing an eye-roll that was ruined by her smiling face, she scooted right up and wrapped her arms around his torso, and he hugged back tightly. The closeness felt so well-needed, as if she were touch-starved without realizing. Surely, they had still been touching over the last little while… but this was the first time she felt present for it in days. She hummed appreciatively, resting her chin over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he sighed, smugness creeping into his voice as he rubbed her back, “should’a known I couldn’t shake ya. After all, I am your lifelong obsession, ain’t I?”

She groaned. “Turbo…”

“It’s kinda creepy, there, Cherry Bomb. Takin’ advantage of the fact that I don’t got a game to get ya banned from.”

“Like I could even get through the barricade here without your help,” she considered. “Or without dynamite, but, y’know. I’d hate to have to build it again.”

Turbo just chuckled. He buried his face against the side of her neck and let out a deep, hot sigh through his nose that sent a tiny wave of goosebumps over her skin. She held him tight, soaking in the exceptional heat from his skin. At times such as this, memories would flood in from the time she believed she had lost him, and her chest would glow with incredulous, almost painful gratitude to have him back.

Mavis chewed her lip for a moment, possessed by the emotion growing in her body. She tucked her head in, the bridge of her nose pressed against his collarbone. Sweetly, sadly, she mumbled, “Y’know I miss you, T. I miss havin’ a friend out there.”

His hand thumped softly against her shoulder blade. “...Yeah. I know, Mav,” he muttered. He then turned his head until his face was in her hair, his mouth angled just behind her ear. She could feel his lips move as he said, “I’m pretty lucky to have a friend in here.”

Heart aching, Mavis pulled back to look him in the face. He just looked thoughtful, meeting her gaze with a bit of a squint. “Seems like whatever luck I’ve had since this mess started has had somethin’ to do with you. How’d that happen? Once upon a time, you were the biggest pain-in-the-ass problem child in my life.”

A small laugh blew from her throat, half warm, half naughty. “Things are different now… and you forget I’m a good-luck-charm Easter Egg.”

Turbo chuckled, and his eyes dropped to her mouth as a hand snaked behind her head. “Whatever you say.”

She drew closer, her eyes closing with an airy, snarky chuckle. “But I’m still a pain in the ass.”

“Don’t I know it,” he breathed, before his lips made contact with hers.

She kissed back gladly, folding her knees and bringing them up close as she let the comforting warmth in her face and chest slowly spread throughout her body. The kiss did not break, only deepened, and after his hands tugged under the crook of her legs, she found herself grabbing his shoulders and gracefully moving to straddle his lap. All she wanted was to be closer, to hold him as flush against her body as she could, and it was a sentiment he clearly returned. His rough hands roamed over her slender curves, clenching fistfuls of her shirt and letting his fingers skirt beneath the fabric. As her head and body began to buzz with all-too-neglected excitement, she broke away from his mouth to kiss a trail down to his neck and happily nip at the salty skin there.

For a few moments, Turbo merely squeezed her hip bones in appreciation and uttered naught but a few shivery sighs, but Mavis soon noticed that he was a bit too still and quiet. No sooner had she noticed than Turbo leaned his head into hers a bit, ducking his face down.

“I will get out of here,” he whispered insistently. “I swear I will.”

Mavis paused before pulling back to look at him. He did not look sad, no -- he just looked determined. There was a fire in his eyes that made him look unstoppable, like nothing could possibly hold him back from taking his place in the world again. She believed it fully.

“I know you will,” she muttered back. “And I’ll be there.”

He scoffed a bit. “And then? Then I’ll get ya some real flowers. Call those ones over there a placeholder.”

Mavis twisted a bit to look at the sketchbook she had tossed to the floor, the graphite lines softly illuminated from the light shining through the socket.

“Hm,” she hummed. “Don’t bother. These ones are better.”

When he laughed briefly, she looked back at him to see a lopsided grin that flashed his pointed teeth. “Okay, princess, how about this? Whatever kingdom I end up ruling--”

“Ruling, huh?”

He ignored her and continued, “I’ll program a room just for you, and then I’ll draw flowers on the walls like a gap-toothed madman, and I’ll make ‘em so Dev-damned bright and colorful and horrendously ugly that no one could spend more than five minutes in there without gettin’ a migraine.”

Mavis laughed, clapping his shoulder a bit. “See, now that sounds perfect. Seriously. Please do that. That’s so much better than flowers.”

Turbo’s eyes narrowed as his grin grew. “Consider it done.”

“Now,” she wrapped her arms behind his neck, leaning her forehead against his. “Will ya please go back to bein’ a jerk for a while? All this sweetness and thoughtfulness, it--” she dropped into her roughest, most unflattering Turbo impression, complete with bad accent, “‘it ain’t like you.’”

Turbo’s brows shot upward, and he sputtered through a wild grin. “Ooh, okay, smart-mouth,” he said, cracking his neck and knuckles. “Ya wanna get reacquainted? Let’s get reacquainted.”

With that, he seized her by the ribs and roughly yanked her in, lunging for her neck like a snake. As his teeth sank in, Mavis’ short yelp of pain and surprise turned into thrilled, dirty, self-satisfied laughter. The mushy stuff was finally over. It was time to have fun again.

Mavis was still unsure of how effective her little vacation would be, but as far as she was concerned, she was off to a pretty good start.

#fanfiction #turbo #make it mavis #wreck it ralph #the shitgoblins #yeah have another story i worked on whenever i couldnt sleep #i just wanted to write something fun and cute for the babies #of course theres bittersweet bc i cant help myself #but i hope yall enjoy this silly mess #rare non-AU content

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fox-and-benedict · 7 years ago

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[Fanfic, 100% Orange Juice] Favourite Customer

Series: 100% Orange Juice/ QP Shooting ‘verse Words: 1737 Characters: QP, Aru, Arthur, Syura Originally Posted: Janurary 20th, 2017 (blogspot version) A/N: This is is still one of my favourite humour pieces. Although I feel like I’ve drifted away from this style since, I would like to reprise it or reincorporate it into future comedy stories -- nothing that produces the phrase ‘pew pew windmill’ can be bad. This was also the start of my QP/Aru shipping.

Aru's ears drooped. Despite being a functional killing machine equipped with the powers of flight, seasonal gifts, and spewing bullets out of her face, she was still beholden to her lapine nature. Some part of her would always dislike loud noises, unnatural tastes and arguments, and the look on Arthur's face told her that an argument was well on the way. "Hey, Mr Shopkeeper. Give me a cola, with plenty of ice," Syura commanded. Syura was petite, redheaded, and completely unaware of her own particular place on the food chain. There was a certain smugness about her that screamed Stage 1 boss, in Aru's opinion. "Do this look like a grocery store, kid?" Arthur growled, his eye twitching behind his dark glasses. The butt of his cigarette, held loosely at the corner of his mouth in defiance of all smoking laws, crumpled as his jaw begin to grind. "We don't stock cola." "Who cares if you stock it? I asked for a cola. A real, hot-blooded merchant would see this as an opportunity," Syura replied, half wheedling, half scolding. "Oh, believe me, my blood is boiling right about now. I'm a businessman, not an errand boy. How about you take a little walk around the block and get a cola yourself?" "Hey, I'm doing you a favour, businessman. You know how much time and money real businesses spend on analytics to figure out what their customers want? I just told you for free. It's my first time in this shop, my frenemy is showing me around, and I want a cola. Make it happen," the girl said, puffing out her somewhat unimpressive chest. "Of course, I'll pay you extra for your time. I'm not an unreasonable lady." "That's just because you ain't a lady," Arthur sighed. He stubbed out his cigarette in a cheap ashtray on the shop counter, and blew a leisurely ring of smoke. "...How much extra we talking about?" Syura smiled a catlike smile, and launched her negotiations in earnest. She was a veteran of videogame bartering systems and economics; she knew how much a broadsword was worth and how much an adventurer could expect to be paid for slaying their first novelty giant-sized rat. Arthur, on the other hand, knew how to use his stern looks and rough voice to gouge a price. It ought to be a close contest, Aru thought, but it was better than an actual fight. Assured that she would have no need to administer some concussive diplomacy, she turned her attention to QP. QP was a regular customer at the Rbit Room. In fact, she was the regular customer. Not everybody had the temperament, discipline or desire to learn the ancient arts of the battle bunnies. In fact, the general, uneducated consensus was that these arts did not exist, which was a definite problem when it came to paying the bills. Yet QP would wander into the shop after school like clockwork, clutching her allowance in her hands, carefully inspecting musty tomes on rabbit warfare and then asking if the contents could, perhaps, be summed up in the form of a limerick or a haiku to help her understand them. Aru was not particularly good at either, which lead to memorable offerings like: Glimmer of power, You are the pew-pew windmill What up, it's Orbit Regardless, the dog girl always seemed to appreciate the effort, because, as she said, it came from the heart. She had a talent for seeing the best in everybody that Aru, as a result of her own duty to peer into the hearts of children across the globe and pronounce a select portion of them to be naughty in the sovereign eyes of Santa, had difficulty fathoming. QP did not, for instance, see Arthur as a grizzled, chain smoking, questionably ethical merchant motivated only by raw greed and the fear of Aru's retribution. In fact, her opinion of Arthur seemed to stop at "tall", which was a small mercy for all parties involved. "What brings you here today, QP? We're always delighted to see you, but are you looking for anything in particular?" Aru asked, ignoring the intense economic debate going on between Syura and Arthur. QP scratched her nose. "Well, uh... Actually, Syura was just being really weird, and I needed an adult. The closest thing to an adult I know is a big bullying cat who throws darts around everywhere and leads an evil organisation dedicated to taking over the world, so I decided you were my next best bet." "You keep such interesting social circles," Aru murmured. "I don't really keep them. I'd throw them back into the ocean if I could. I just keep running into strange people and they stick to me," the dog replied mournfully. Ah, so she's acquired a quirky stable of friends she doesn't really like that much, Aru thought. She's finally begun to mature as a shoot 'em up protagonist. She left that unsaid, and tried a different tack. "I'm happy for you to hang around as long as you like, but I don't really understand... Syura is your friend, right?" "Kind of." "Kind of?" "It's ambiguous," Syura said proudly, having paid Arthur four times the going rate for a cola and sent him on his way. She was flush from what she no doubt considered a victory. "Nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Syura, embryonic developer of videogames. One day, I will hatch into a beautiful game dev swan!" Aru fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Very interesting social circles, indeed. What exactly was she doing that was so weird?" QP opened her mouth to talk, but Syura beat her to it. "I wasn't doing anything weird. In fact, I was being generous, and telling my unemployed friend here how I'd give her a job when I get my studio all set up." "She wants me to wear a maid outfit," QP added, mournfully. Syura shrugged. "Well, of course. Your head is full of pudding, so I can't let you handle any of the code. All you'd need to do is flutter around the studio, bring me tea, address me as master, let me rest my head in your lap and massage my temples whenever I get tired of looking at the computer screen, and then occasionally do some light debugging. It's a cushy gig!" "The rest I could deal with, but the debugging is too much! It's sexual harassment! Tell her, Aru!" the dog said, and clung to Aru's arm like it was a anchor against a flood of madness. Aru, however, had transcended her mortal form and was roaming in the magical world of her own imagination. A girl with dog ears and a maid outfit? Surely it was too much power for one mortal to have. The amount of money and popularity that she could amass in the hidden circles of the world was astronomical. A very small part of Aru -- the part that mourned as it watched the Rbit room go into decline, the part that wanted to eat quality food instead of economy rice day after day after day -- whispered in the back of her head, telling her that she should harness that power. Another part of Aru had gone in an entirely different direction. QP was her favourite customer, but she'd rarely ever seen her wearing anything but her school uniform. Putting aside the maid cosplay, which was too dangerous to think about in public, she wondered what her friend would look like in more classically feminine clothes. "Aru? Earth to Aru? You zoned out for a little while there," QP called, waving her hand in front of the rabbit's eyes. "While drooling," Syura added helpfully. "Yes, well, um, shop harassment is against sexual rules. I mean, sexual harassment is against shop rules!" the rabbit replied, feeling a trickle of sweat wind its way down her forehead. There was a moment of silence. Then there was another moment of silence, consecutive to the last. Moments of silence began to shunt into each other like minecarts on a crowded track. Overpopulation of moments of silence began to threaten the national ecosystem, and local government authorities sent out an all-points bulletin to park rangers announcing the sad necessity of a cull. Then, at last, Syura spoke. "Fine. I'll allow it. You go on ahead, QP. I want to actually look around this goofy little shop and drink my cola." QP, anxious to escape and run home for a cup of well-earned pudding, seized the chance and trotted out of the shop. Syura watched her go, a wide smile on her face. After the dog had been gone for a good few seconds, she turned to Aru, and grinned. Aru blanched. "...Were you looking for any merchandise in particular?" she tried. "No," Syura replied, shrugging. "I was just thinking that maybe we share some interests, you know? We could be great friends. Hey, hey. Take a look at this for a moment." She produced a phone from her pocket, and began pressing buttons faster than Aru could comprehend, her fingers no more than a blur passing over the screen. Before long, she had found what she was looking for, and presented the phone to Aru, her chest puffed out with pride. On the screen was a picture of a maid uniform. It was high quality, dyed sumptuous black with a pristine white apron. It was also very short. Aru felt breezy just looking at it. "So, let's skip the formalities and get down to business. I think that with enough prodding, I can get QP into this thing. How much are you prepared to pay for pictures?" "...Make me an offer," Aru said, making a steeple of her fingers. "20 apiece?" "20?! Listen, friend, I asked you to make me an offer, not make me angry," Aru growled, warming to her part. Arthur was a hard nosed, occasionally crooked businessman. Aru kept the Rbit room in business and still had enough left over to buy toys for the world's children at the end of the year. Negotiating was her strong suit. "For 20, I'd want fifteen minutes of lap pillow and the skirt would need to be at least two inches shorter." Syura looked at her, blank eyed. Then, slowly, she began to smile. "You know what, Aru?" she said. "I think we're gonna get along great."

#fanfic #100% orange juice #Aru #QP #Syura #Arthur #Comedy #QP Shooting

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izzygyrl · 7 years ago

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Mad With Love {Master Kenobi x Jedi!Reader}

Words: 2, 064

This is one of my older requests from a while ago I posted on my Deviantart!

“If you don’t keep your guard up that remote is going to hit you!” I told my apprentice. I felt his frustration heighten and saw his knuckles turn less orange as his grip tightened around his training saber. I sighed at my Twi’lek apprentice. “Breathe and relax. Listen. Reach out with the force you can do this Dev.” I assured my struggling apprentice. His lekku relaxed slightly and he let out a deep breath. As the remote flew around him with a faint whizz, he followed it. Then it struck. Quick as lightning Lev blocked it and the blast was absorbed into the practice saber. A few more ensued and he blocked them with perfect ease.

“Alright I think that’s enough.” I told my apprentice. Quick as lighting Dev ripped off the helmet he was using to cover his vision to show his blue eyes staring back at me. And he wasn’t happy. His shoulders slumped and his eyes fell. I immediately went over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. “You did great Dev. Better than ever.” I assured him. He let out a sigh. “I know. It’s just I’m dealing with so much.” He said. I sighed. “I understand Dev. I know you’re worried about your parents. But they knew you would be safe here and that you would do well here. You are very force sensitive. Don’t let the anger and frustration get to you. That can lead to the dark side. You must always go in with a calm and clear head. If you do, then you will always be able to see the light.” I told him. He looked up at me his blue eyes alight. “Thanks Master (Y/N).” He said. I gave him a smile. “No problem.”

I then decided it was time to tell him the good news. “I have some good news for you Dev.” I told him. He looked up. “What?” He asked. “I am going to talk to the council to see if you can accompany me on one of my supply run escorts. It will give you good experience and I think it’s time you got out of the temple and into the real world. You’re not a youngling anymore. I want you to get out there and help.” I told him. The blue eyes widened and smile lit up on his orange face. “Really?! Oh thank you Master! I would love that!” He said. I smiled pleased that I could lift my apprentices spirit. “Your progress has showed. You are doing great. I’ll speak with Master Yoda and the other council members later today.” I told him.

“How about now?” I heard a familiar voice say. I recognized it immediately and my lips pursed. I turned around to see Master Kenobi leaning against the doorway to the training room. “Hope I’m not interrupting something.” He said. I felt my heart flutter. Pushing away the thought and feeling I pursed my lips. “Master Kenobi. How can I help you?” I asked the strawberry blonde Jedi.

“The council wishes for you to attend a meeting with me. Just the usual update.” He said. His gaze broke from mine and towards Dev. “Run along now Dev. You earned it.” He said. I clenched my jaw. Dev looked at Master Kenobi and back at me. I nodded and with a small bow the Twi’lek ran off. Once the door closed I glared at the Jedi. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t order my apprentice around.” I said my tone a tad forced. Kenobi gave me a small smirk that sent another flutter through my stomach. “My apologies.” He said giving a mock bow. I huffed and ran my fingers through my hair. “I thought I was giving an update to the council later on in the day.” I said to him as I grabbed my robe off the hook and pulled it on.

Obi-Wan watched me and once again was leaning against the wall. “Master Yoda asked me to fetch you. Seems the chancellor wished to speak with him during your time so we had to bump it up.” He informed me. I sighed and staring in the reflective surface started to fix my hair so I at least looked partly presentable to the council. Once that was done I started to clean up the room putting the remote blaster away and just tidying up so the next person to use the room was happy. Then when I was finished I turned to Kenobi. “Alright let’s go.” I said.

Kenobi POV

I watched as Master (L/N) fixed her hair in the reflective surface of the wall. I rolled my eyes. If only she knew. She didn’t need to do that. She was already stunning as it was training hair or no. I sighed as she continued to get ready. I looked down at the floor shuffling on my feet. As she passed me I inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume. Jasmine. It tickled my nose and I immediately relaxed. If only I could tell her how I felt. Damn you Kenobi. Man up! I scolded myself mentally. No the code. If anyone would find out…oh what torture! My mind was full of emotion. Over time I had developed feelings for Master (L/N). She had graced me with her charm and whit. And what did I do to deserve it? Tease her and mock her. I didn’t know how to tell her how I felt about her! I was fearful for her rejection. So the only other thing I could do to lay her off the scent was…be mean to her. Oh and how it tortured me!

“Alright let’s go!” I heard her voice ring out melodic and angelic. It sent a shiver down my spine. I cleared my throat and nodded. She gave me a confused look and before I could stop myself I narrowed my eyes and shot out a “what?” She was taken aback and shook her head. “Nothing. I just…” She stared but then huffed and rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get going alright?” She said. “Fine!” I shot back. She let out another huff before storming out the room. I mentally smacked myself. Smooth move Kenobi. Sighing I quickly hurried after her.

(Y/N) POV

I walked briskly down the temple halls with Master Kenobi at my side. Together we walked over the red carpeted rugs towards the elevator that led up to the council’s chambers. We walked in silence. Suddenly a dozen younglings came running around the corner barreling towards us causing me to bump into Obi-Wan as they weaved around us. I stumbled slightly and before I could stop myself I was falling.

But I never hit the ground. “Woah!” I heard a voice and I felt strong arms wrap around me. “Clumsy as always.” I heard Master Kenobi chuckle. I sighed and ripped myself away from him. “I didn’t need your help.” I snapped. Kenobi blinked a tad surprised and I sighed. “Sorry.” I said. He shrugged. “I’ll just let you fall next time.” He said walking past me. I huffed and watched as he strutted away. Turning around I let out a call to the younglings to be more careful and not to run in the temple. Then I quickly stomped after Kenobi.

The rest of the time we walked in silence. Stepping into the elevator we said nothing. Then the elevator opened with a ding and we stepped out. Ahead was the council room its round door closed. Two guards stood there. As we approached one went in. Finally, after a few moments the door opened and the guard came out. “The council will see you now.” He said. I nodded and together we walked in.

As I entered I saw many of the masters were on hologram. Many were away from the temple on other business around the galaxy but of course as usual Master Yoda, Master Windu and my own Master Plo Koon was there. (I just really like Plo Koon. You can change it if you want.) I bowed in respect to the council members. “Masters. Thank you for seeing me.” I said. Plo Koon and the others bowed back. “Welcome (Y/N).” Plo Koon said. “And welcome to you Master Kenobi.” Plo Koon greeted the strawberry blonde. Kenobi bowed and returned the greeting.

“Updates on your padawan’s training we wish to hearof.” Yoda said. I nodded and stepped forward. “My padawan, Dev Sindula has been improving greatly over these last few weeks. Now he is very good in combat with a saber and is working hard on his meditation. Not only this but he has been studying in the library on the different galaxies and systems and is very much enjoying it. With the council’s permission of course I believe that he is ready to accompany me on an escort mission for a supply run. I wish to start small with him. If the council allows this, I am expected to go on a supply run to Dantooine.” I said.

The masters exchanged looks and mumbled to themselves. Suddenly Master Kenobi stepped forward. “If the council allows it may I speak?” He asked. Yoda nodded. “I was watching Dev train with Master (L/N) today and I noticed that the padawann gets frustrated easily and it throws him off balance and he isn’t able to think straight. I don’t believe that the padawann is ready to do a supply run just yet. I believe that he must hone in on his meditation skills more before going out into a real life situation where if worse comes to worse he may get into trouble.” He said. I pursed my lips trying to control my outrage and anger at this. But deep down I knew this was true. But I didn’t like those words coming out of his mouth. He had no right!

Yoda let out a long hmmm. “Right Master Kenobi is. Problem this could be. Padawann Dev I believe shall stay here and do more training he should.” Yoda said. I felt my heart fall. “I agree. I do believe he had improved Master (L/N), however, we can’t take the risk if he is still struggling with the force.” Plo Koon said. I clenched my jaw holding my tongue.

“I disagree. I believe that with this experience Dev Sindula can work on his meditation on this run and see what it’s really like in the real world.” Master Windu spoke up. I nodded. However, the council soon voted and it was voted that Dev should do some more training before going out. With a bow and a quick word of thanks to the council I left the chambers. I could sense Master Kenobi behind me as we turned a corner down an empty hallway. “Well that went well.” He said. I spun around on him fury in me. “He was ready! Dev can do this! If it hadn’t been for you he would be going with me!” I snarled in anger.

“And if you were attacked? Supply runs are often attacked!” Kenobi said. “He’s a padawann! He’s not a youngling anymore! He is good in combat training and would handle himself fine!” I snapped. “That’s not what I saw.” Kenobi said. I reeled back in shock. “You! Oh you make me so mad! I could just—.”

Before I could say what I could do to him Master Kenobi’s lips were suddenly on mine. I let out a muffled cry of shock before melting into the kiss. I felt Obi-Wan’s whiskers brush against my chin. His gentleness shocked me. He then pulled away his arms up trapping me between them. “And if you or him got hurt I would never forgive myself. From the moment I met you (Y/N), you have captured my heart. I don’t know how but you did. And I didn’t know what to tell you so I was mean to you. And I’m a fool for it.” He said.

I blinked shocked. “So you like me?” I said. He nodded. I bit my lip. “Well I’ll be.” I said. I saw his blue eyes fall. “What?” He asked. I shrugged. I really like you too Obi-Wan. But what about the council?” I asked. He smirked. “Screw the council.” He said before smashing his lips onto mine once more.

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