#lean biome before and after

[aquaquadrant]

grbbrgrr. scurries toward you. I offer thee pathbubs fluff, fresh from my mind fortress.

Patho. falling asleep with dbubs’s clock to his ear.

gives you a cupcake skitters away

(offering received, considered, and accepted. however, i have substituted your fluff for angst. i hope this is satisfactory.)

~*~

"watch this!" dbubs shouts, before leaping off the cliff into the water below.

<player>dat -7063fdce-39ac-4a12-d836-a990c45b2bb0

patho leans back just enough to avoid being splashed. the water in this jungle lagoon is clear and blue, brighter than most bodies of water he comes across. tall, thick trees surround them on all sides, creating a natural barrier from the mobs of the jungle. it’s a beautiful place, and one of his favorites to visit when he’s here.

155 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 17/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 28 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,683.952 / 39.11563 / 253,589.263 block: -12,683 39 253,589 chunk: -791 15 7,849 facing: south (towards positive z)(1.5/5) client light: 6 (0 sky, 6 block) biome: error:crimson jungle local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 16/247 + 0/8

dbubs surfaces with a gasp, his wet bangs plastered to his forehead. “did you see that?” he crows. “that was- i must’ve done a- a complete 360 spin about five- no, ten times! world record, first try!”

“oh, yeah,” patho agrees with a smile he doesn’t feel. “yeah, that was very impressive.”

they’re almost out of time.

patho has known this since he woke to find a little weeping vine attempting to burrow into his arm, right at the seam where flesh meets metal. this is an event that only happens when he’s overstayed his welcome, and the jungle can no longer tolerate his presence without trying to claim him. that vine was easily removed, putting off the inevitable for a few more days. but he can’t ignore the sudden restlessness that overtakes him now, a buzzing in his very core that fills his mind with static and his limbs- organic and mechanical alike- with the powerful urge to move.

it’s hard to explain, his need to wander. it’s like every moment he’s not traveling, he can almost feel the infinite borders of hels expanding, spreading into new horizons, and the thought of staying put is unbearable. it doesn’t matter if he actually goes beyond the loaded chunks or not- a feat that’d take years, to be sure. just getting on the move again is enough to quiet the itch.

(it didn’t use to be this way. it didn’t start until after he built his communicator into his new arm, fusing himself with it- but he’ll never admit this, never confront the possibility that it might’ve been a mistake. it’s easier just to leave.)

besides, he still enjoys the various business he gets up to with the other denizens of hels. his services as a redstoner and a data analyst are in high demand, and he has a reputation to uphold. he can’t throw all that away to stay here. that just wouldn’t make sense. it wouldn’t be logical.

patho reaches for the clock at his hip. it was the first gift dbubs gave him. early into patho’s first stay, dbubs decided he needed a clock of his own, so he’d always know when it was time for them to sleep. based on its position, nightfall is only a couple hours away.

“well, c’mon!” dbubs pesters him, his haughty voice echoing off the smooth walls of the cliffside. “what’re you- what, are ya scared of a lil water? huh? just- you just try and beat my record, you- i bet you can’t!”

“alright, alright,” patho chuckles, shrugging his jacket off. “you asked for it…”

won’t be long, now.

~*~

that night, patho leaves his eye on.

dbubs, curled beside him, notices this immediately, and deep down, he knows what it means. it took a while- how long, he isn’t sure- for patho to grow comfortable enough to turn his cybernetic eye off while they slept. but ever since then, he does it every night… up until the last night. every last night, like clockwork.

already, dbubs can feel the familiar weight of sleep trying to take him. caught in the jungle’s day-night cycle, he has little choice in the matter; he sleeps every night without fail. but he fights it anyway, biting back a yawn.

“tomorrow,” dbubs starts quietly, “uh, do you wanna- i- i had this idea for a new build, a perfect build, of course, and i’m gonna need a- a super smelter, for- uh, for all the terracotta-“

“dbubs.” that solitary red eye gazes out from the dark. “you know i’m not made for staying.”

dbubs shies away from the words like an insect from sudden light. “and- and so i was thinking,” he continues, as if patho hadn’t spoken, “we could do a uh, you know, maybe a bamboo farm? for the- for the fuel? i- my perfect redstone prowess could make this easy- easily, of course, but um… i uh- euugh, you- you know they always say, sure enough, that two brains- uh, two geniuses, genii, are better’n one.”

“yeah?” patho breathes a soft, empty laugh. “is that what they say?”

“and- well, yes! yes, of course!” darkness creeps in from the edges of dbubs’s vision; he clings tighter to patho. “and… and uh… n’you can learn all ‘bout my new… new dbubs redstone clock… pat- patented design, a‘course…”

“of course.” patho’s lips brush across his forehead. “better get some rest, then.”

dbubs struggles to keep his eyes open, but it’s as if his lashes are lined with iron. he presses his face in the crook of patho’s neck, breathing him in, that redstone-and-gunpowder scent; bitter and metallic.

“don’t,” he murmurs, consciousness escaping him quickly. “please…?”

“night, dbubs.”

the jungle sleeps.

~*~

far from the jungle, patho lays down in a shallow cave carved from netherrack.

168 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 15/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 27 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -11, 987.629 / 30.91778 / 252,896.204 block: -11,987 30 252,896 chunk: -780 15 7,835 facing: east (towards positive x)(1.5/5) client light: 2 (0 sky, 2 block) biome: error:nether waste local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 5/247 + 0/8

he’s put enough distance between himself and the jungle that he’s confident he can sleep for a few hours before setting off again. the surrounding biome is one he’s well familiar with; barren and empty. with a wall put up to shelter him from mobs, he’s finally safe enough to turn his eye off.

that won’t be the case anymore, once he gets closer to the more populated chunks. the risk of being caught with one eye nonfunctional is too high. it’s just something he has to deal with.

(of course, he could’ve built a cybernetic replacement that simply functioned like the eye he lost, but he thought himself clever and built in a data processor to provide him with valuable information, giving him an advantage over anyone else in his field. so this is the price he pays for it.)

he reaches for his clock. there’s only a couple hours left before the sun will rise, unseen beyond the bedrock ceiling, and dbubs will wake to an empty bed.

but for now, patho tucks the clock to his ear and closes his eyes, letting the steadfast ticking finally lull him to sleep.

~*~

[kradogsrats]

Okay, so here's what I'm thinking. Here's some relevant chunks from Patience and Ripples:

The stars/great/first elves are strongly characterized as having godlike power and authority over the world that includes Xadia. Humans are not meant to have primal magic, the power is undeserved, and the stars punish them for it. They look in a mirror and see themselves as divine, and this is right and proper.

The stars/great/first elves built something that Aaravos intends to destroy, largely out of spite.

Nowhere in either of these stories are other elves mentioned at all. In Patience, the first humans are described, and the world is characterized as their world.

I feel that this is all leaning heavily toward "the stars/great/first elves created or brought primal magic to Xadia." Because let's look at something else: the Border.

The Border is not a naturally-occurring feature, in that we are told that the Archdragons split the continent of Xadia in two and banished humans to the west. A thousand years later, that half of the continent is not entirely devoid of magic—there are still naturally-occurring magical creatures in basically every biome—it is thoroughly, distinctly less inherently magical than the east of Xadia. In Xadia, the dirt is magic. The dirt. You can pick up a fucking handful of the ground, and it is inherently magical.

The west was not always like that! The Moon Nexus is in the now-magicless territory, indicating that the area was settled by elves. (I would bet, however, that the Moon Nexus is and was the furthest west nexus out of the six.) I've speculated before that a thousand years of dark magic use completely depleted the inherent primal magic of the west, but actually that doesn't make a ton of sense from a logical standpoint—I mean, the sun and moon aren't going anywhere, and neither is the sky. The magical dirt of Xadia presumably doesn't stop like six inches down from the surface or something, the Earth primal permeates throughout the actual earth, presumably.

Now, I do think dark magic use still contributed to the state of the west, but here's why: the actual true source of all this magic, established by the stars/great/first elves, is tied to something in the east, and the division of the Border severed it from the west. After being cut off that way, ambient primal magic slowly drained out of that half of the continent—accelerated by being consumed for dark magic. (The source or conduit for all primal magic being focused somewhere in the east also makes sense from the standpoint of "why are all the primal nexuses clustered in one half of the continent, that's really weird.")

Let's also consider: in the west, at least, we have entire species and biomes populated by species that are not connected to a primal source. There are normal horses, normal deer, normal cats and dogs. And there are humans, also not inherently connected to primal magic. We also have an entire other ancient and forgotten system of magic, that does not rely on the primal sources! Why, unless the primal sources are not native to the world?

Furthermore, as I noted earlier, Patience refers to "their world" when talking about humans, and while this definitely indicates a separation of the stars that are the subject of the story from the world of Xadia, it's also an interesting turn of phrase to use—especially when, as I also noted, there is no mention of other elves.

What I'm saying is: what if humans and non-magical creatures are the native species of Xadia and this world, and the entire construct of primal magic, elves, dragons, and everything was artificially cultivated and introduced?

Here's where we can also get a little woo-woo pinboard-with-red-string crazy. Check out the two biggest tears in the map of Xadia:

They extend the Border beyond the edge of the continent... suspiciously well. Like, that furthest south part of the Border itself did not have to zigzag that way.

And it really makes me wonder which side of that map line the Starscraper is on, given that the Starscraper is very much set up to be a figurative and possibly also literal bridge to the heavens, or whatever realm the power we call the stars inhabits. It's probably not the channel that pumps magic into Xadia, but it wouldn't be completely insane if it was.

[spiderrmax]

the end?

"50 wordless ways to say I love you"

47. staying up half the night to finish a game with them. word count: 1431 author's note: this was really fun to write because i had to remember the steps to beating the ender dragon. (im not a gamer im sorry) (also since you guys aren't speedrunning you don't finish the game)

It’s 10 pm when you have the amazing idea to start a new minecraft world. When you propose the idea, Kyle laughs, not believing you to be serious at first. The two of you are all ready for bed, his hat discarded and curls loose. However, when you scoot to the end of your bed, turning on your console, he follows suit, sitting right beside you. (The both of you ignore the heat in your face as your legs brush against one another.)

“Minecraft is a game that Ike likes.” Kyle teases, as the familiar soundtrack fills your room.

“Shut up. You mentioned never beating it before. We conquer The End tonight.” You swiftly respond, one of your elbows reaching for Kyle’s ribs. He takes the hit, before recovering quickly, nudging you back into your original spot on the bed.

“The End?” Kyle asks, watching as you make the new world. He smiles a bit when you title it with the two of your initials. You’re cute, he thinks, allowing the thought to simmer before he tries to forget about it.

“It’s where the Ender Dragon lives. You’ll catch on, you’re smart.” You explain, handing him a controller. “You’re going to be the little guy on the bottom half of the screen.”

Kyle doesn’t mention how he’s used to focusing on the upper half, allowing you to teach him the strings. It’s not like he hasn’t played the game before, again it was one Ike enjoyed a lot when they were younger. Ike just never cared to do much other than terrorize villagers and pick flowers.

The game loads up, and the two of you are in a spruce biome. You’re quick to start chopping down wood, and Kyle simply follows in your footsteps. Kyle is impressed with how swift and efficient you are, getting enough wood to make a full set of wooden tools. When you ask for his wood, he has no hesitation in giving it to you, kindly thanking you as you craft his tools too.

“Wanna explore for a bit? We’ll need to go mining at some point but we don’t need to rush the game.” You explain, leaning closer to him. (Kyle doesn’t know if it’s subconscious or not, but he doesn’t move much after that, scared you’ll realize and drift away.)

Kyle’s character mostly follows your character around. You continue to mine at blocks vital to progressing the game — more wood, surface coal, cobblestone — as you guys escape the forest. Playing the game with you is much more relaxing, even if Kyle isn’t making much of the decisions. Not that he minds, really, as it is similar to how Ike would play. If anything, the only reason it’s so tolerable is because he’s playing with you.

The two of you find a village around 11, the hour of exploring feeling like minutes as the two of you wondered around. Kyle watches as you steal from their farms, their chests, and destroys their hay; he can’t feel pity for the villagers with their silly design. Notably, you share the loot with Kyle, not keeping all the nicer items for yourself. It’s almost second nature, to give him the iron pickaxe you found. Kyle leans in closer; you don’t move even as his shoulder brushes.

Before venturing into the mines, you suggest stealing two villagers beds to set your spawn point just incase one of you were to die. Two yellow beds are placed down together, in the middle of a plains biome. Kyle doesn’t comment on your deliberate placement of your bed next to his. He does have to pause to take a sip of his water, face on fire. (It’s just a video game. One he’s playing with you, one he’s enjoying despite the open world. He wonders if you are picking up on his internal struggles, or if you are too focused on the game.)

Hours pass, and the two of you have made more progress than Kyle ever has. You guide him through getting enough diamonds to craft a pickaxe in order to make a portal to the Nether; he wasn’t even aware of the other dimension until you explained it to him.

Despite being prone to raging whenever he dies in game, he doesn’t care when a blaze burns him to a crisp. He watches as your character gets his stuff — “it’ll despawn, I promise to give it back” — and hides in a corner, waiting for him to safely get back to you. He thinks of playing with his friends, who in comparison, would’ve kept his stuff joyfully, and smiles down at you.

You have to get enough blaze rods to get to The End — five, preferably. Once you have that you get to leave the dreaded dimension. As you enter the portal, you show your first signs of exhaustion, yawning and reaching up to rub at your eyes, and Kyle looks up to see it’s one in the morning. 

“Hey it’s getting late. Do you want to head to bed?” Kyle’s voice is soft, peering down at you with such genuineness you can’t stare at him long.

“No, I’m okay. Let’s keep going. We still have to get ender pearls.” You mumble, voice clearly affected from your tired state.

Enderpearls come from Enderman, Kyle learns as the two of you wait for it to be night. In comparison to the five blaze rods, you need 12 eyes. Just in case, you’ll never know how many spots are full at the portal. (You explain things to him with such passion, despite being exhausted. Your hands wave slightly, and Kyle has to take the control from your lap to prevent it from falling. He’s never cared so much about Minecraft.)

Kyle’s first Enderman kills him, coming from behind. You conviently left out how they teleport, and watching him stumble around has you giggling with delirium. Purposely, this time, you lean closer, head tucked against Kyle’s arm. He can feel your laughter, and doesn’t mind being the source of your amusement. As he respawns, he shifts a bit, to allow you to fit better.

You yawn again, and after a moment, a second time. Your character is not moving as efficiently as it once was, and although you haven’t died, you aren’t fighting the mobs either. Kyle is doing most of the work, and almost is cocky with how smooth he can kill Creepers without them blowing either of you up.

At 2:48, you guys finally have gathered 12 pearls. Enderman spawn less frequently than other mobs, thus making it harder to hunt them down. Over the hour you have continued to sink into the warm of Kyle’s hoodie. If it was the morning, with people to witness, he thinks he would be a flustered mess. With the world asleep, it feels right to have you at his side; no one awake to argue with him.

Your character has stopped moving, and Kyle peers down to see if you’re asleep, too. Slowly, you blink up at him, confirmation of your (barely) consciousness. Kyle grins, and pressing a kiss to your forehead comes naturally. A sleepy grin appears on your face, but you don’t say anything. You don’t need to.

When the sun rises in the game, Kyle takes your controller to save the game. Your grip too weak to have any fight, and once the game finishes saving, he turns off the TV. Kyle yawns too, stretching as he stands for the first time in hours. You can barely keep yourself up, and once Kyle’s joints are no longer stiff, he helps guides you back up against your pillows.

“We didn’t get to the End.” You mumble into the comforter, shifting around to create space in your bed for him. He slides in, perfectly designed for the other half of your mattress.

“We can play another day.” Kyle murmurs, pushing hair from your forehead. Your eyes are shut now, and Kyle can’t help but smile from the simple domesticity of it all.

“Thanks for staying up with me.” You cuddle closer, those words acting as your goodnight as you can no longer force yourself to stay awake.

Kyle doesn’t say anything for a moment, yawning himself as he finally lets himself feel exhaustion from being up until three AM.

He tries to think of something romantic to say, like they would in the movies, but he doesn’t need to. The arm he curls around your waist, the way he eases into your mattress, and the relaxed look on his face tells it all.

[dearinglovebot]

If the Grady family ever met the Nublar Six Five, how would they interact? Who would really vibe with each other, who wouldn’t?.

maisie being the closest to their age means I think she’d get along with them the best. she has a pretty similar personality to brooklyn and yaz so they’d either mesh very well or clash over it. I lean towards get along pretty well. sammy would be a little overwhelming at first but sammy is also the most insistent that she break out of her shell with the group. very much giving “hey she’s just like you were yaz!”. darius and her would have a very chill dynamic where they understand each other and could probably problem solve their way out of any situation. ben? they’re chill. but kenji is who is gonna have to grow on her the most. early seasons kenji is going to drive her crazy but later season kenji might grow on her. she’s going to find him annoying and he’s going to see her as quiet and broody. they’re going to be have to trapped in an escape room together before they become real friends.

the hidden adventure episode probably had the right idea in saying that yeah JWCC darius would love a dude who worked directly with velociraptors. maybe not JWCT darius who is being hunted for sport, but JWCC darius would be begging for velociraptor infodumps. what were their interactions with each other like? did they have biome preferences? what types of calls could they make with each other? he wouldn’t be asking owen about his day he’d be going straight to “did they have different sounding voices?? how many words did they know?? what types of enrichment were they given??”

owen overall is going to be a much easier sell to the kids than claire. yasmina is going to make fun of him the moment he says “alpha”, brings up motorcycles, or does the hand thing. the only way he is winning her over is if he shows his #vulnerable side over the dinosaurs or his family. basically she isn’t going to like him until she’s given a reason to believe he isn’t some weird emotionally repressed redneck. and speaking of rednecks, owen is semi-canonically from the south so that’s winning points with sammy. they probably share stories about cow tipping and everyone else goes “what the fuck does that mean”.

he’d get on with ben and brooklyn fine but kenji has a habit of annoying most people so im inclined to believe he’ll be considered a “little shit” type kid. pre-fk owen and early seasons kenji would require intensive care to get along 1v1 but after that then they have potential. now that owen has experienced #Fatherhood he’ll be more inclined to make an effort to reach out to troubled teen kenji™. it will have the same vibes as a school guidance councilor and class clown where the kid says the councilor is soooo lame but still asks for a hug at graduation.

like I said above, claire is going to be the hardest sell for all of them. she is Miss Jurassic World in the flesh. they’re not going to trust her at all. but she feels really bad about the whole incident so she’s going to do her best to pay off any therapy bills or travel expenses for the families.

kenji is the only she feels the most guilt towards because she actually knows him from his dad. on the island, he annoyed her (he was objectively very annoying) but now that she’s reformed she just feels bad because he was probably just acting out because his family dgaf. kenji initially doesn’t trust her even more because she ran in the same circles as his dad. but he also recognizes how much she’s changed since then and it makes him kind of upset because his dad wouldn’t do half the things she did for maisie. they have a very complex dynamic where claire feels indebted to him for everything that’s happened (with both the island and his neglectful dad) and he has to work through a lot of daddy issues whenever they interact. they get each other in a nuanced way but it’ll keep the relationship strained for a long time.

sammy is the most willing to give her a chance because she wants to believe that someone like claire can change. and claire is going to try her hardest with that chance to prove she wants to mend things however she can. for a while, sammy is going to be the only one really holding conversation with her but the others are kind of using that to gage if they want to take a chance on her too.

darius will be the next person to take that leap of faith cause she does seem like she’s putting in an effort. she’s a full blown activist and mother now after all. claire appreciates them both immensely and has probably cried at least once over winning them over. they have a lot of similar moral stances post-fk so there’d be a very easy dynamic. she values everything about her park a lot more and he’s happy to talk with her about it. she’s got a collection of anecdotes about the dinosaurs and their handlers and he appreciates what she shares.

yas may always be a little weary of her but her knack for terrorism is going to appeal to ben the arsonist and brooklyn the true crime detective. she’s got so many leads about lockwood manor for brooklyn to chase down. she may not totally love claire but she does respect her. as for ben, i think if anyone was going to commit burglary it would be them. she would refuse to “encourage” his behavior (because she wants to at least pretend she’s a responsible adult) but if it happens then it happens okay! they’re as bad as each other and shouldn’t be left alone

weeew that was a lot. loved getting this ask

[kusuguricafe]

MC used tickle! It's super effective!

A/N: shoutout to @cxra-melty for the inspiration 💜

Summary: Kieran needs a little cheering up and MC and their minccino are eager to help!

Characters: lee!Kieran, ler!MC

“Hey, Kieran!”

Kieran looked up to see MC walking towards him and waving, with a minccino riding on their hat.

“Oh! Hey there, MC!”

They sat down next to him and minccino climbed down off of MC’s hat onto Kieran’s lap.

“Hi, minccino,” Kieran scratched behind her ears. She melted into his touch, delighted. “Aren’t you cute?” He looked back up at MC. “Did you catch her recently? I don’t think I’ve seen you with her before.”

“Yes, I did! I caught her in the Polar Biome for Drayton’s challenge, and we’ve grown quite fond of each other ever since. Her name is Cappuccino!”

“Chino, chino!”

“She’s very sweet.”

Cappuccino jumped back to MC and climbed up onto their shoulder. “She likes to be up high.”

Kieran smiled halfheartedly. “All Pokémon just love you, don’t they?” He looked at his feet.

“I wouldn’t say all…”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“I…” MC started, “I want to apologize.”

Kieran looked up at them.

“I shouldn’t have lied to you. That wasn’t okay, and I’m really so—”

“I’m sorry too! I’ll never lash out at you like that ever again. I promise!”

“I know. It’s okay, and I forgive you.”

“I forgive you too.”

MC smiled. “Can… Can I have a hug?”

“Oh! Y-yeah…”

The two leaned in and embraced each other. After a moment, Cappuccino crawled over to Kieran’s shoulder and nuzzled into his neck.

“Eek! H-hey!”

“I’m not doing anything…?”

They let go and MC saw that Cappuccino had found a new perch.

“Chichi! Chichi!”

“Aw, I think she likes you!”

“Mrrmph-! T-tell her to stahap, w-would you?”

“Wait, are you—”

“N-no!”

Cappuccino paused to look at MC. Kieran let out the breath he was apparently holding in.

“Hmm, I think I know something that might cheer you up.”

“Wha-?”

“Cappuccino, use tickle!”

“Chi! Chichichichichichichichi!”

Cappuccino rapidly swished her tail back and forth against Kieran’s neck and ears. When he scrunched his neck and shoulders to protect himself, she would crawl to the other side.

“Ah! Ahahahaha nohoho! S-stahahahahahahap ihihit!”

Kieran didn’t want to accidentally hurt her, so he just sat there, giggling, fists clenched in his lap.

“I was right! Now let’s see… Are you ticklish here?” MC gently poked Kieran’s tummy.

“Nahahahahahat you too!”

“Sounds like a yes. How about riiight here?” They wiggled a finger in his belly button.

“EEEHE! NohohOHOhooo!”

Cappuccino wagged her tail under his chin.

“Ehehehe *snort* I- *snort* stAHAHAHA!”

MC laughed along with him. “What about these ribs of yours?” They kneaded his lower ribs with their thumbs and Kieran shook his head and kicked his feet out.

“Chichichi!”

Wanting to help MC, Cappuccino slipped under Kieran’s shirt and clung to his bicep as she swiped her tail over his right armpit.

“W-whaAAHAHAHA! G-gehet oUT of-eEHEHEHE!”

“You have a really cute laugh, you know,” MC commented, still tickling his ribcage.

Kieran blushed.

Cappuccino then crawled down his torso, came out the bottom of his shirt and sat on his left knee.

“Chino!”

“What is it?” MC asked Cappuccino, “Do you have an idea?”

“Chino, chino!”

Cappuccino held on to Kieran’s thigh and swished her tail against the underside of his knee.

“N-no! Not my knehehehEHEHEES! I’m rehEHEHEHEALLY t-tihihicklish thehehEHEHERE!”

“Good work, Cappuccino! It’s super effective!”

“Shuhut uhuhup! You’re worse than CahahAHAHAHA! WAIHAIHAIHAIHAIT!”

MC joined in, squeezing above Kieran’s kneecaps and holding his legs still with their own while Cappuccino hopped back and forth between his legs, brushing her tail against his inner thighs and the undersides of his knees.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA! P-PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! DOHOHOHOHON’T! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“Don’t stop? You got it!”

“NoohOOOHOHO-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! IHAHAI’M GONNA DIHIHIEEEEHEHEHE! MAHAHA! MEHEHEHERCY! MER-HAHAHA-HERHERHERCY!”

“Alright, Cappuccino, that’s enough.”

“Chino…”

Disoriented, Kieran leaned over onto MC’s lap and gasped for air.

“Ehehehe.. haha… ahahaha…”

MC patted his head. “You alright?”

“Yeaha…”

Cappuccino clambered over Kieran and climbed back up MC’s arm onto their shoulder. MC continued to soothe Kieran by lightly scratching his scalp, which he appeared to enjoy. They stayed like that for a few minutes until MC stopped and Kieran finally came out of his daze.

“Wha- When did I get on your lap??”

“Don’t worry about it,” MC said reassuringly, “I don’t mind.”

Embarrassed, he sat up and avoided MC’s gaze. He twiddled his hair in his fingers.

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“F-for tickling me… I haven’t been tickled in a while, and, so uh… it was nice.”

“Oh, I’m glad!”

“Yeah.” Kieran peeked at MC and smiled, genuinely.

“Feel free to ask any time. Right, Cappuccino?”

“…”

Kieran stopped hiding his face and turned towards the pair. “Looks like she fell asleep.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t, after that.”

“I almost did, you have a magic touch. No wonder your Pokémon love your pets so much!”

[masked-ragdoll]

BOLAS

Bolas Rojas, also known as just Bolas or “Red Balls” in English, is a genus of humanoid bird-like creatures. These species have only been found on Egg Island, located near point nemo. They reside in warm climates like mountainous mesa biomes and grassy fields with a few trees.

Description

Medium-large species are ascribed to the genus, ranging from 150 cm to 190 cm (60-75 in). These creatures appear to be a mix of human and bird genetics, with a body covered in fur and feathers. Various patterns have been spotted, with the most prominent coloration being red first and black second, with some species having areas of blue, yellow, or green on their wings and legs. Their eyes are blood red and reflect light in the dark. Bolas are bipedal with a pair of arms similar to humans and a pair of wings protruding from their backs. Usually the wings are too small to be useful for flight, and are usually seen as a sign of status. The leader of the group will have the longest wings and often will be the only one who can actually fly, but usually only in fast bursts before gliding down to the ground. These creatures are seen wearing masks that are depicting other animals’ skulls, from birds to cats to humans. These are worn around the clock, even while sleeping, the reason behind the fashion statement is still unknown.

Behavior

Communal Roosting

Bolas gather in small groups of a dozen or so during non-breeding months. These gatherings tend to happen underground in caves. Living spaces are often surrounded by fires, either natural or Bolas made.

Play

Countless incidents of self-immolation, setting self on fire. This seems to be a sort of ceremonial behavior, but is also done for play or when in distress. Another form of play that has been documented has been a variety of dances.

Calls

Bolas have a primary call off “bolas”, which is where they got their name. These calls have a lot of variety in tone, muttering when sad and yelling when attempting to intimidate enemies. Have been heard cackling to themselves after a successful hunt.

Foraging

Bolas are not particularly skilled at hunting, so they rely on stealing food from surrounding species. They are often seen hunting in pairs.

Threats

Bolas are very loyal to members of their own genus no matter where they come from. They will swarm any intruder or enemy and are very resilient. They seem to be either partially or completely resistant to a variety of toxic gasses and have been seen removing their skull masks during toxic gas storms. Very threatening when in groups, but will turn skittish if the leader isn’t present.

Diet

Bolas are omnivores but lean towards herbivorous tendencies. They primarily satiate themselves with sap and nectar, but also seeds, spuds, bread, as well as various fruits and meat. Being foragers and thieves, they have evolved to eat almost whatever they can get their hands on.

[blametheeditor]

Day 15 | Honey

Gt July Prompt List

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When stranded on an uncharted underwater planet, alone and surrounded by hostile lifeforms, there are only two possible outcomes: adapt and survive, or die trying.

Spoilers: For the game Subnautica

Content Warnings: Mentions of death and violence. Mentions of drowning and suffocation. Mentions of isolation.

________________________

Scott didn’t have high hopes for his survival. Not when the Aurora crash landed on the very planet they were only meant to scan. 

Don’t get it twisted. Just because he knew his chances were slim didn’t mean he wouldn’t be fighting tooth and nail to increase them. It only meant he would have to be practical and thank God for every miracle he was gifted.

That included, but is not limited to, his lifepod landing safely on the planet, having enough materials on hand to fabricate a seaglide, and ending up almost directly next to an island. 

And not just any island. One that was once inhabited. By the Degasi crew no less. 

That last part is strictly irony. The very crew they came here to search for, and he immediately finds their base. Even obtains proof of what their fates were. 

That didn’t mean Scott would be leaving this planet alive, though. Despite the fact both missions assigned to the Aurora crew was completed, there was no way for him to contact anyone for rescue. None the less a pat on the back for having earned his paycheck. And if he could get a message out there had been a crash, he had a feeling a rescue mission would go just as well as the last one. 

Scott’s doing a great job of proving why summoning more ships here would be an awful idea. 

So he knows what happened to the Degasi crew. Knows what’s going to happen to him. And yet, no matter what logs he’s managed to find, how many times he’s searched this island, how far he’s willing to swim before turning back to safety, he still doesn’t know why. 

Why the Aurora fell out of the sky. Why the same thing happened to the Degas. Why the same thing will happen to any ship that comes here. The one thing he found that might give some kind of clue is inactive and ancient, meaning if it does have answers, there’s no way for him to figure it out. 

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Scott growls as he flips through the database on his PDA, reading through the hints of there being another base supposedly 200 meters down. 

The only issue is he’s searched just about everywhere, and seen hide nor hair of an underwater base at that depth. Of course, things would be a lot easier if he could find enough materials to build a sub. Having the authority to access those blueprints doesn’t do him any good when he has an abundance of minerals, and yet nothing to make some kind of lubricant. It was dumb luck the lifepod had been stocked just enough for the seaglide. 

But he doesn’t have many options in the odd biomes he’s surrounded by. Admittedly he’s not too keen on the idea of going too far from the island. Not when he can’t trust what lurks too far beneath him. Has all the resources he could need to survive another day. 

...no one’s responded to his signal for a rendezvous. 

Scott sighs as he leans back in a chair that, surprisingly, stayed in one piece despite rotting for ten years. Stares out at the horizon where nothing but water waits. The only thing distributing the calm is the sight of the Aurora burning in the distance. 

Look, call him a coward, but there’s a reason why he’s been so careful. Hasn’t dare gone back to his lifepod after sending out the coordinates for the island. Even if that means he left a perfectly functioning radio and therefore doesn’t know if anyone heard, or sent a distress signal for help. 

What is he supposed to do? He has no sub, barely keeping his batteries charged, and his PDA warned about leviathan class fauna who call this planet home. 

And wasn’t that a joyful thought? The realization he’s nothing but an insect to creatures that could be swimming by the island right this second. That if something of that class finds him, he might not even be a full meal to it. Possibly just an exotic addition to the full course. Like a drizzle of honey on toast. Not even an appetizer, just the garnish. 

He’s been completely alone for 30 days, he’s allowed to get morbid. 

If I stay here, I’ll slowly wither away.

If I go, I’ll die a horrifying death.

If he goes...there’s a possibility of finally finding materials to build a sub. Maybe even find a safer place to stay, though he doubts it. Food wouldn’t be an issue considering he has plenty of seeds to grow another garden. He’d no longer just be sitting here, twiddling his thumbs. 

Could he handle the knowledge he might’ve been able to save anyone else if he just took a chance sooner? 

That is a question for another time. Right now, he needs to decide. Swim as far as possible with an almost guarantee he won’t be making it back here, or stay here for no other reason than his own safety. Because if no one’s come after a month of waiting, then there’s no one to come. 

Scott takes a deep breath. Watches the sunset as the moon circling this planet is washed in a magnificent display of orange and green. Most likely the last one he’ll ever see. 

In the morning, he’ll pack everything he can and head straight for the Aurora. It’s about time he finally got his feet wet. 

[sasukimimochi]

Prompt for day 20 - Feathers (see other prompts here)

.✦The Thing With Feathers.

Subnautica Below Zero / MDZS crossover ✦. Word Count - 1001

Wei Wuxian climbed into his sea truck and sighed, immediately falling into his sleeper cabin with music quiet and low. He’d been chased across the purple vents biome by a Chelicerate just so he could gather up a few more lithium for his equipment and base, only to have to get out of his sea truck to squeeze under that gigantic vent garden where another one was hanging above because Lan-Zhan sent him another set of coordinates to check out.

The artifact he’d found hadn't even been anything too useful- and he didn’t have a reinforced suit so when he got too close, he got a free lobster broil- except he was the lobster. At least they were one step closer to getting Lan-Zhan his own body, but why did all of these artifacts have to be smack dab in every annoying or dangerous location on this oceanic planet?! He didn't like the sea enough for this.

Well…he didn’t hate it. In fact he rather enjoyed its beautiful side. But it didn’t like him back, and he just was running low on reserves with little progress made in the investigation on Yanli and Jiang Cheng’s whereabouts. 

He just wanted a break, then a clue. It'd been too long since the last one he’d found. He wanted anything- anything at all that would give him a clue to say his siblings were okay. That it was a ruse led on by that damn corporation, that they were both okay and just hiding somewhere and not-

Ring— Ring–

He sighed softly. “Lan-Zhan…”

Another call... It could be important- if it was another artifact he should at least get the signal before he got some rest. Well, if what this was could be considered rest. Bundled up in a wet suit was not the ideal way; he missed wearing more casual clothing.

 He answered the call, trying his best to mask how tired he was. “What’s up, Lan-Zhan? Got another coordinate?” He rolled over and sat up in his cot so he could properly listen, pushing his damp hair to the side over his shoulder. He still couldn’t quite get used to hearing the alien’s voice inside his head, but it was a somewhat welcome distraction right now.

“Our searches have been… useful, but… I have no evidence as to the fate of my people. The network I hoped to rejoin may no longer exist. I cannot feel it.”

Wei Wuxian sobered up somewhat as he listened to him speak. Lan-Zhan had many moments like this- he wasn’t even sure if the other knew this was from a place of insecurity, as he seemed to have lost touch with a lot of human behaviors after living the way he had for so long. 

“There could be a million reasons for that. Like…what if the network had a system update? They’re on version 2001.4 and you’re still on version 14.2.”

“That would make me incompatible. How would I even begin to plan my upgrades?”

Wei Wuxian chuckled quietly, leaning over to rest on the side of his sea truck. “Okay, that’s not what I meant. Bad example. You still know how to get home?”

“Mn.”

“So don’t give up. Go there. See for yourself what happened!”

“You are expressing optimism but it is not supported by probability.”

Wei Wuxian sighed and smiled soon after, “Hope isn’t based on statistics. It’s born from a drive for something better. There’s a poem Yanli loved– Hope is human. Hope is…uhh…oh right– ‘Hope is the thing with feathers!’”

“This does not match any fauna I can find in your PDA.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, “It’s a line from a 19th century Earth author. Emily something.

‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all -

I promise we’ll get answers one way or another, Lan-Zhan.”

There was a stretch of silence for a moment, before he heard his companion add one last thing:

“Adding ‘Hope’ to your database.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows rose as a small notification did indeed pop up on his PDA after the call ended.

Hope is an animal of unknown origin. According to Wei Ying and a poet named Emily Dickinson, it is described as having feathers. My database found the poem Wei Ying was referring to:

"Hope" is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm - I've heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never -in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.

The presence of Hope seems to inspire humans to persevere in the face of adversity. Perhaps humans keep a Hope with them at all times.

From this notation, Hope appears to be a hardy avian creature. It is capable of surviving at sea and in cold climates. Having "kept so many warm," Hope might be observed to produce exothermic chemical reactions.

Assessment: find and maintain Hope.

Wei Wuxian’s expression softened and he gently thumbed the edge of his PDA. Classic Lan-Zhan… he laughed quietly as he laid down in his cot, staring at those last words. Find and maintain hope, huh? His heart was in the right place.

He would miss him…

His smile faded somewhat as he thought of their eventual separation. Of course he wanted his own body back, but…what would he do after it all? Where would he go? It's not like he had a ship to leave on, and who knows if he could go back to normal life after this.

He sighed quietly and put away his PDA. He would cross that bridge when he got to it. They were together now, for who knows how long.

He had plenty of time to think about it after he got some rest.

See my other MDZS projects here, or check out the links at the beginning for the other prompts.

[blitzarthespaceidiot]

Kauhara - Meet The Kingdoms

Azartsik Kingdom

Part 1 - Basic Information

Flag & Map

Their People

The Azartsik Kingdom is home of the Azartsik race, dragons and drakes known for their mostly crepuscular to nocturnal lifestyle, their developed sense of sight which allows them to see without issue in the dark and (for their dragons only) their speed and mobility during flight, being by far the best on aerial movement out of the other races in Kauhara.

The Azartsik are usually around 9'8"ft tall for the males and 9'2" for the females. Coloration-wise they tend to have slightly dark-toned scales, colors like blue, red and magenta (all in dark tones) are common. It is to note that rarely will these scales lack hue and be completely black or some shade of dark gray. Their horns are black and will always be pointing straight away without any curving.

The Azartsik are omnivores leaning towards meat. While they like their meats and other animal products and tend to favor them, they wouldn't mind sharing their plate with a few greens if they'd like to.

Weather, Climate and Biomes

If you visit the Azartsik Kingdom, you will be greeted with generally cold climate, you are in the mountains after all. Snowfall is more than likely to fall during the colder months of the year.

If you are south near the Azartsik-Sukkan border, you will find more bearable weather, do note however that storms can be quite common here, rain tends to occur frequently in the intermission months between the colder and warmer months of the year. Land is at its best for growing around these times.

The Azartsik's mountain range is covered in its majority with montane coniferous forests. Further south at the Sukkan border you will find more even terrain with a few grasslands and shrublands, these eventually transition into the arid barrens at the Sukki Plateau.

Their Culture and Society

The Azartsik's culture tends to revolve around the stars above, since the days of their kingdom's dawn they have not taken an eye off of them. Dedicated festivities to these exist, usually taking place around the dates where these signal the arrival of growing seasons, where the land and weather allows for the vest conditions to cultivate their foods.

Additional, non-scheduled celebrations include those taking place after certain natural astronomical events like the passing of a great comet, an eclipse taking place (wether its a solar or lunar eclipse does not matter) or a conjuction between between various celestial bodies. The magnitude of these celebrations vary depending on the event that took place.

In recent years, the Azartsik Kingdom was met with a large influx of foreigners setting down in their land. While initially these foreigners were not welcomed by their people due to past historical matters with other kingdoms, they quickly began to grow used to these arrivals and let them stay, allowing the Azartsik kingdom to become a central hub of sorts for Kauhara.

Their Economy

The Azartsik's economy is among the strongest in Kauhara. This is product of a treaty between them, the neighbouring Sukkan Kingdom and the nearby Realm of Azukaiya. This treaty is of economic nature, however it does also include a few defense agreements.

Additionally, as mentioned before, Azartsik's influx of foreign dragons and drakes from different kingdoms turned the Azartsik Kingdom into a central hub. One of the benefits that came to Azartsik with this event is the increase in trading as well as the exchange of cultures between the Azartsik and other kingdoms, allowing for new trade routes to be implemented between kingdoms and boosting the Azartsik's economy significantly. This time period is known as the Azartsik Golden Age.

They have strong mining industry comparable with the Berhazan Kingdom and Sukkan Kingdom's. In addition to that, they have a good agricultural sector, focusing majorily on crops like roots and livestock like goats and cattle.

[scribble-dee-doo]

it's donna loving her husband AND her best friend hours. also fungus amongus.

@doctordonnaweek

Psychic massage feels mostly like a massage, but also a little bit like getting new glasses, or recovering from a cold. Knots of worry and unconscious ruts of thought have been worked out, but she also feels like her own brain is clear and crisp and colorful in a way she hadn’t known she was missing. She and The Doctor had ended up in the lounge chairs bordering a pool with elaborate fish towers showing off even more elaborate fish, like an aquatic hamster maze, and she’d been following one bright blue croissant-shaped fellow with an unhurried enjoyment she’s rarely experienced before. She’s not tired. She’s not worrying. She’s not impatient or swatting away guilt and insecurity. She just is, here with the fish and her best friend.

Said best friend had fallen into their own lounger like a dropped handful of sticks and has been lying boneless ever since. Donna is feeling a bit jelly-ish herself, if less like she’d been luxuriously flattened by a slow and thorough rolling pin, but he might be genuinely dozing. Or the trance/meditating thing he’d started around two months after moving in, something that had to do with Time Lord mental upkeep he’d obviously been neglecting for centuries. She’s never seen them do either in public before, nor even in private when they were first traveling together, and she savors the slow delight of it like a bed of coals, softly glowing.

Croissant-fish has done three lazy laps of the upper left corner of the maze and shifted completely into a smoothed, pale blue sickle when Shaun finds them. He’s rarely tense, except when trying to work self-checkout machines, but now he’s properly glowing. He’s beautiful, wearing a jumper she got him on his last birthday and at ease walking on an alien planet like they’ve encountered each other at the park. Noticing the Doctor makes him chuckle. Once he’s reached them, he brushes the top of the Doctor’s hair with his knuckles and leans down to give her a kiss.

“Hello, lovely,” she says once they’ve parted.

“Hello gorgeous,” he returns, sitting beside her and taking her hand.

Undignified mouth smacking on her right announces that the Doctor is stirring. He’s opted for less gelled heights in his recent hairstyles, but his hair is still spikey enough he looks like a baby bird in an awkward feather stage as he blinks, slow and a little out of sync, fighting to wake.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Shaun greets them, voice full of mirth.

The Doctor makes noises that may or may not contain words. Donna chuckles at him and flexes her hand in Shaun’s, admiring the strength of his fingers and the subtle shimmer on her nail polish.

“You have fun with your new mates?” she asks.

Shaun swings his legs onto the lounger, lies across her lap, and props his head up with his free hand on her other side. His jumper is remarkably snuggly. She pets it.

“Sure did,” he says. “They started having issues with atmospheric containment in the nitrogen sections, but it turns out Sorrister works for one of the companies that maintains the filtration system and they got it fixed right up.”

The Doctor, who’s been blearily studying Shaun’s position, decides he wants to join them. He peels himself off his lounger, one limb at a time, flops onto Donna’s, and arranges himself across her shins, cuddled right up against Shaun, with a sigh. Her legs are going to fall asleep quickly, but for now it’s like having a lap full of enormous cats.

They sit quietly for a moment before the Doctor mumbles, “This place has some of the best biome support infrastructure ever devised, I’m surprised they had atmospheric containment problems.”

“So was Sorrister!” Shaun says, “but it turns out they were having a bit of a fungal problem, and it got into the filters.”

“Some fungus,” Donna said, watching the fish again.

Shaun hums agreeingly. “Big teeth.”

She’s pretty sure the croissant fish is now doing a little dance with one of the two-headed shrimp things.

She blinks

The Doctor pops up, frowning and looking more awake.

“Teeth?” they ask.

“Oh yeah, big as anything,” Shaun confirms. “Ko Ta N knew a bit about Ramican containment, though, so we fiddled a little something up and took care of it.”

The Doctor is now fully awake. Shaun is quite pleased with himself, so Donna is mostly curious about what kind of fungus needs teeth and what for.

“By ‘Ramican,’” the Doctor says, with increasing urgency, “do you mean Ramicandelaberaceae, the fungal species that releases hyper-aggressive defensive spores when exposed to oxygen?”

“Yep! Some copper-sulfur spray and ultraviolet light got ‘em to calm down, and Ko Ta N got a job out of it. Did you know she used to have a nursery? Said she’d get us some cuttings.”

Donna is watching the one-alien show of the Doctor realizing someone else did their thing while they were doing the psychic equivalent of sunbathing on the beach. It’s entertaining. His eyebrows are even more expressive now than they used to be.

“We should invite her and her family to dinner,” she says.

Shaun hums. “She has something like six hundred and thirty kids,” he says. “But most of them are about the size of rice grains, so I bet we could work that out.”

“You fought an exposed colony of Ramicandelaberaceae with farming techniques and it worked?”

“It helps to have friends who work in different fields, Doctor,” Shaun says. 

Donna covers her mouth to muffle her laughter.

The Doctor insists on seeing the evidence with their own eyes. The walk to the gardens bordering the nitrogen quarter is lovely, even with the Doctor vibrating with the urge to run ahead from his tether between them. The psychic massage apparently helped along the latent telepathic sense Donna suspects has been slowly strengthening in her mind over time. Between their clasped hands, she’s pretty sure she can feel his urgency bubbling over like a baking soda volcano.

Shaun guides them to the slightly scorched and stinky corner where the grand battle took place. The Doctor shoots off, scanning everything and talking to everyone. Shaun finds his new friends again and learns that Sorrister has gotten a raise, and Donna secures a promise from Ko Ta N to bring her family over for mushroom skewers. Rose arrives with her own group of new friends, and the Doctor adds urgent commentary to Shaun’s recounting of events.

Donna confirms the Doctor was meditating at the spa once they get back to the TARDIS, where they discover the center console has been ringed by purple cushioned benches overflowing with pillows. After everyone exclaiming over the TARDIS’s greeting of an enthusiastic lightshow and mechanical twittering, apparently because she also enjoyed the spa, Donna shoos him away from the controls and into the tide of pillows. He forges in, a child in a ball pit, and spends the entire ride home asleep on his belly, drooling and twitching like a dreaming dog. Rose entertains herself by constructing a pillow fort over their body.

[aquaquadrant]

I’m having thoughts again (the horror). You may have answered this before and I just can’t remember or find it buuuuuut

Is/was there ever a dragon in Hels? If there was could they spawn it in again or is she just dead?

“a dragon?” the player huffs a laugh, giving you an odd look. “you know dragons aren’t real, right? it’s just fantasy shit, like the sun and moon.” they shrug. “anyway, uh, if- if you’re not gonna buy somethin’ then stop wasting my fucking time and get the hell out.”

~*~

“ah, i see you’re a fellow intellectual.” the player nods sagely. “data analysis has found plenty of evidence supporting the existence of an ‘end dragon’, through communicator codes such as ID tags for items called ‘dragon’s breath,’ ‘dragon head’, and ‘dragon egg’, not to mention the achievement ‘free the end’, which is supposedly earned after slaying this dragon. so while we can only extrapolate so much from nonfunctional comm commands, i’d say the idea of a dragon existing in other worlds is quite substantiated.”

they pause.

“did hels ever have one? well, that’s the question, isn’t it. while the existence of glitched end chunks throughout hels has been proven on multiple occasions, no one’s ever found an end island with the obsidian pillars required to spawn and sustain a dragon. of course, it’s possible someone found it long ago and destroyed it, or perhaps no one’s found it yet, or perhaps it exists in a different form entirely. if you look at how biomes spawn in hels…”

~*~

“what, hels ain’t bad enough for you as it is?” the player wheezes, shaking their head. “kid, if there’s a dragon in hels, you’re better off if you never meet it. we got enough problems without throwin’ a damned dragon into the mix, ya hear?”

~*~

“never heard of such a thing. seems like nonsense.” the player hefts their axe onto their shoulder. “now, move along before i kill you.”

~*~

“there was a dragon in hels, yeah,” the player says nonchalantly. “this old player took me in when i was a kid, used to tell me stories. i mean, he never saw it. it was more of a ‘i know this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who heard that someone saw it’ kinda deal… well? do you wanna hear it or not?”

they smirk.

“… that’s what i thought. so yeah, it was this massive red dragon- or uh, maybe it was like orange with red flames on its scales, fucking sick, right- with huge teeth and insane fire breath and… actually, it might’ve been acid? or poison? fuck, whatever, the point is that the thing was nasty, alright, it used to swoop down on the early settlements and mow those motherfuckers down, eating players- or, wait, i think maybe it would just throw them? uh, i dunno how but- wait, where you goin’? hey, this is valuable information, you know! … fine, whatever, asshole.”

~*~

“how the hel should i know?” the player demands, folding their arms. “this world’s infinite and old as balls, and we don’t exactly have a consistent method of widespread information distribution. someone could’ve killed it yesterday and i’d have no fucking clue.”

~*~

“yeah, there was.” the player nods. “it was before my time, but i heard our admin killed it. whoever the fuck they were… makes no difference to me, but it’s a cool thought, right?”

~*~

“hm. been a long time since someone asked me that.” the player leans forward, eyes flickering in the firelight. their gaze is haunted. “are you sure you wanna know?”

they pause.

“… alright, then.”

“now, this was back in the early days of hels, long enough ago that some of the oldest players still remembered havin’ an admin. we didn’t even know ‘bout the end chunks. then one day, there was this sound. every player in the world heard it, no matter where they were. it was louder than any thunderstorm, louder than any explosion- the kinda sound that goes clean through you, splits your ears and rattles your bones.”

“it was a scream, only not like any i’d ever heard before. there was a raw, guttural quality to it- like a wounded animal- yet the power was undeniable. but there was some distortion to it as well; an underpinning of static like the whole thing was bein’ broadcast through a beat-up jukebox. just thinkin’ of it sends chills down my spine.”

“then a peculiar thing popped up in chat. someone had made an achievement, only we couldn’t tell who or what. all the text was scrambled, like those funny words you see on an enchantment table. never met anyone who could read it. but needless to say, this sparked an entire movement bent on discoverin’ what the hell had happened.”

“some of the more adventurous players went explorin’ and found the end chunks. players who knew a thing or two about data analysis started huntin’ through their comms, usin’ the data of an endstone block someone brought back. didn’t take long after that to figure it out.”

“they found there was a dragon that belonged to a separate realm from overworld and nether. the end, they surmised. y’know, where endermen came from. the dragon lived there, sustained by end crystals that were said to float atop obsidian pillars on the end island it called home- its nest, as it were. so, unsurprisingly, it was called the ender dragon.”

“and if you killed it, you opened a portal. where it’d lead was anyone’s guess, but it was a way out of hels.”

“i was young, then. young and hungry. i banded up with some other players and we consulted an expert- the founder of data analysis, actually- to extrapolate the coordinates for the main end island. only he didn’t find just one; he found ten sets of coords, spread out over hundreds of thousands of blocks, nearly a million blocks. he predicted that each obsidian pillar had spawned on a separate end chunk, and that each one would have to be tracked down to kill the dragon. we had to destroy the crystals first, you see. he thought it was a waste of time, a fool’s errand, but we didn’t listen. so we split up, takin’ one set of coords each, and set off.”

“they were all ‘bout the same distance from each other, so no one had an easier go of it. i took one northeast of spawn, seven hundred and twenty-nine thousand blocks out. the journey took years. not sure exactly how many, i stopped keepin’ count sometime after the fifth. the other players on the mission gradually stopped replyin’ to my whispers- i think some of ‘em gave up and turned back. wasn’t sure if i was the only one still goin’, ‘til i eventually saw their death messages in chat, one by one. mobs, lava, fall damage, the usual. some might’ve died on the way; traversin’ hels alone on foot is no cake walk, even without the concern of PVP. never heard from any of ‘em again.”

“but i’d gone so far that givin’ up wasn’t an option. even if no one else had made it to their pillar and destroyed the crystal, even if killin’ the dragon would be impossible, i had to see it through. so i kept goin’. it was a lonesome existence, bein’ that far from spawn; i went months without sayin’ a single word, at times, damn near lost my mind. but it weren’t all bad. i reached the unloaded chunks, saw naturally-spawned passive mobs for the first time in my life. i saw rare biomes i’d never heard of, even came across one of those glitched end ships with an elytra. journey went quicker, after that, but it was still several years before i finally reached the coords.”

“the pillar was exactly what you’d expect. a tall, round obelisk made of solid obsidian, rooted on a floatin’ chunk of an endstone island. there were some endermen millin’ about the place, far more than in any other biome i’d seen- ‘cept maybe the warped jungles- but no sign of the dragon. the crystal was at the very top of the pillar in an iron cage, so i flew on up there, thinking at least i’d do what i came to do.”

“soon as i set foot on the top of the pillar, i heard a strange sound. it was that little zippin’ sound you hear when an enderman teleports- only it was a louder, deeper, slower sound that seemed to shake the world. like i could actually hear the distortion of space and time itself. the air suddenly filled with a haze of purple particles, so thick i could hardly see, move, or breathe.”

“and then she appeared.”

“the dragon was all black, black as the void ‘neath bedrock, with spines down her back and huge, bat-like wings, deadly sharp teeth and claws. she was big enough to swallow me whole and we both knew it. but what really put me off was that she was glitched.”

“it’s the best way i can describe it. her body was flickerin’ around all crazy-like as if i’d gone cross-eyed, so she appeared in multiples at times, countless wings unfurlin’ from the distorted mass. anywhere i looked directly at her would suddenly seem… pixelated, almost, like her form was fracturin’ into pieces, like i couldn’t fully ‘preciate the whole. but i remember her eyes. they were pure white, so bright it hurt to look at ‘em, and as she moved they seemed to blink in and out of existence around her, like they couldn’t quite settle in her skull. like twinklin’ stars against the night sky, beyond the bedrock ceiling.”

“she was beautiful.”

“the dragon perched against the tower, claws grippin’ the obsidian on either side of me, curled her slender neck down ‘til we were face-to-face, and roared. it had that same quality as that sound i’d heard all those years ago, and i knew at once it’d been her death rattle. in my daze, i remember wonderin’ who could’ve possibly managed to kill such a creature? what kinda player would even want to?”

“i’d been well-prepared for the fight. full enchanted gear, potions, gapples. but starin’ up at her, i couldn’t bring myself to use any of it. i just stared at her, caught in a moment that felt like an eternity as she stared back, before i realized her breath was poison.”

“i ended up back at the world spawn. didn’t matter i’d set a respawn anchor nearby the end island- this seemed to overwrite it. lost everythin’, of course, but i didn’t care. my death message in the chat was glitched, too, in that same strange language. now, i didn’t share my experience with the rest of the world; only to those who asked, and only in the hopes of dissuadin’ them from makin’ an attempt of their own.”

“which brings us to the end.” the player finally sits back, studying you with a shrewd gaze. “now, you listen to me. that dragon ain’t somethin’ to be killed, understand?”

you nod.

“good.” the player’s expression changes. “so, i’m afraid you’re not gonna like the next part of the story. but nothin’s free in this world, least of all knowledge.”

the player moves, there’s a flash of metal, and suddenly there’s a sword in your gut. engrossed in the story, you hadn’t even noticed them equip it.

“sorry,” the player tells you with a grin, “but that dragon ain’t the only monster here. send my regards to spawn.”

as darkness consumes you, your last thought is that the white spots dancing across your vision suddenly look like dragon eyes, blinking from the void.

~*~

[blueberry-gills]

Legend has it that if you hike up to the peak of Glaseado Mountain on your birthday, you’ll get to see a wonderful gift of nature—Diamond Dust.

Gill only realized she had fallen asleep when she was stirred into consciousness. Her skin curdled under the feeling of something pressing against her cheek. Slowly, she peeled open her eyes.

The Drifloon floated back from her head, seemingly satisfied. Gill blinked blearily at her. She could feel Sizzle’s claws around her neck, digging into her flesh in tandem with her breathing. In any other instance, she’d be terrified.

“…What’s the time,” she said blankly, knowing full well there was no one nearby that could answer her.

“Loooooon.” The Drifloon leaned backward. Her tendrils grew taught around Gill’s arm. Gill felt one of them loosen, untwining from his jacket as the Drifloon raised it up- She could untangle herself at any time? She was just hanging on for fun? Oh Arceus, I can’t feel my hand, is that a blood flow or cold or kidnapping soul thing-?

Pressed her heart to his chin-

Wait wha-

-And tilted his head upwards.

Gill barely had time to react before the first snowflake landed on his nose.

The sky was a cloudy gray. A vast expanse of off-white, a mirror to the earth beneath it. You could argue it looked more beautiful earlier.

But that wasn’t the point.

It was snowing.

Gill’s breath hitched in her throat.

She had seen snow before, of course. Despite her aversion to the cold, she had spent quite a good amount of time in the Polar Biome at Blueberry, thank you very much. She had suffered through artificial winds whipping as snow sliced against your skin. Through opening your mouth and catching a face full of ice. And even before that, her parents had brought her to Montenevera before. Glaseado Mountain was nothing new.

What was new, however, was Diamond Dust.

…It really did look like crystal.

It was soft, gentle even, not fierce or piercing. The snowflakes melted on her blazing skin with a quiet numbness, sparkles dancing in her eyes. As if someone had thrown glitter into the heavens. As if Gill was resting inside a gorgeous snowglobe. A gentle breeze tousled her hair.

It was dazzling. It almost hurt to look at. Gill lifted her free hand and watched as the flakes tumbled out of the sky like dazed Ribombee, gently landing in her palm.

Like shavings of sunlight.

It was beautiful.

It was cold.

It was gorgeous.

It was really cold.

It was decadent.

It was so, so cold. Gill couldn’t feel his feet. Or hands. And he was pretty sure the Drifloon was still trying to lead his soul astray.

But the tears still pooled in her eyes and the glitter danced in her vision all the same.

It wasn’t Lental. It wasn’t the desert. It wasn’t a party in some fancy restaurant surrounded by friends and family who cared.

But it was the best she had.

…And it wasn’t too bad.

The Drifloon hummed in satisfaction as Gill stood up, grabbing the Pokeballs at her waist. Sizzle dug her claws in deeper.

Happy Birthday, Gill. She’s turning seventeen by herself on a mountaintop, speckled with freezing cold Diamond Dust.

With her team beside her. With Pepper sniffing at the long-since-dead Whismur-lite and Salt wordlessly watching beside her, with Locke flitting around and prodding Sizzle, with Key resting a tacky hand on Gill’s shoulder as Sugar decorates a tupperware of berries in cream, with Spice and Baryon watching from afar while Junebug curls up by her bag. With a Drifloon looming over her. (She ought to start thinking of a name.) With regret still lingering in her heart, but a resigned peace nestled beside. Blistering cold and shocking warmth.

And so, the taste of mint and chocolate in her mouth, her skin abuzz with relief and frostnip, Gill wiped the tears out of her eyes and smiled to herself.

Maybe today wasn’t a disappointment, after all.

[syndianites]

Mianite Prompt:

Something with Martha, Sonja, and Capsize like hanging out maybe doing magic stuff (I guess either post-season 2 or just Capsize is somehow in Ruxomar because nothing bad happened to Capsize ever)

Any ships or not ships you want, just think the girls should vibe ^-^

Sneak-peek at the Sonja/Capsize/Martha fic that has gotten entirely too long

(Context: Capsize still died and turned into a zombie, but instead of killing her Redbeard asked TR to try and cure her bc Tom is literally Right There. She is tossed into the Void with the squad and gets taken in by Sonja who is trying to find a cure for her)

Before Sonja could get lost in the thought Capsize made a noise. At first, she thought it was just an unconscious grunt, but then another one followed, along with the sound of a book sliding across the table. She looked over to see Capsize pointing at what seemed to be a picture of a tree.

Leaning over, Sonja felt like she’d seen the tree before. There was no color in the book, but the shape was distinct. A dense thick of leaves on top, circular in nature, that seemed almost man-made. Below it had exposed roots that weaved in and out of the ground before taping off about three feet from the base. There was a few sparkles around the drawing of the tree that implied it was either magical or gave off light. Or both.

Capsize tapped her finger again, drawing Sonja’s focus to the word just above it. Purple. She traced the sentence back to its source.

”An interesting trait of the Silverwood tree is its ability to change the landscape around it. It will turn the area it's in into a more lush, magically dense mini-biome, even able to cleanse the lingering purple remains of previously tainted lands. This also leads to the growth of other magical plants that…”

Sonja perked up as a tingle of excitement ran up her spine. “Oh my gods!” She turned to mildly startled Capsize, “That’s it!”

At Sonja’s face-splitting grin, the zombie’s face smoothed out into an almost-smile, her shoulders relaxing from where they’d been bunched up. Then she was tackle-hugged.

“You’re the best ever!” Sonja said after she stopped the duo from toppling to the ground, “I could kiss you right now. Would that be weird? Okay, maybe that would be weird but I can think about that later.”

She pulled back, letting an arm linger over Capsize’s shoulder while she turned back to the book at hand, scanning the rest of the page. Her mind flooded with ideas and she hastily cleared a space to start taking notes on their newest discovery.

Of course, being so caught up in her newest lead, Sonja missed the faint blush and wide-eyed look Capsize gave her.

[thecoffeelorian]

OC Sunday Catch-Ups...

...Small note to everyone--I had to get over a bad virus last week, so unfortunately, this is gonna be a fairly late installment. However, I don't plan on getting sick a second time, so hopefully, I can get one more (somewhat late) installment done before the third OC Sunday rolls around. Anyway! One more for Lyn Innsur!

No Pressure Tags: @freesia-writes @talesfrommedinastation @skellymom and anybody else who likes original characters!

1. If they were a SHOE, what kind of SHOE would they be?

First off, I imagine that Lyn would lean towards a pretty set of sandals that could also give her extra support during a walk around her hometown, so I decided on these as far as photos go.

2. What nature/scenery/setting most encapsulates who they are?

I imagine that Lyn would not only be used to warm climates/biomes and actively seek them out on other planets, but that she also would have no problems watching a sunset on the edge of a desert or grassland in spite of the wild animals that lived there. So...for a picture reference, I included this shot of a desert/great plain from Ryloth, as she still views that planet as home even though she's currently settled on Argann.

3. What's one thing you'd notice about them immediately and one thing you would only notice after a lot of time and depth?

Something that turns the average newcomer off is how Lyn shoots her mouth off at times, either when she's frustrated about something she doesn't quite understand as an autistic woman, or else when she's really angry about a certain issue and doesn't know how to voice her thoughts without almost shouting them.

It's the ones who stick around after the first impressions that get to see all the rest of her, such as her love of family; love of the natural world; her dreams of returning home and rebuilding her part of Ryloth; and generally wishing for a life without war.

[the-feral-one]

Wo managed to stay awake until Oki, Ogerpon and her siblings got back to the shrine.

As he waited, he had also started on dinner too, making something that everyone would like, and that everyone could eat.

The family discussed what they did throughout the day as they ate at the dinner table.

The discussion shifted once Wo showed them what had had been given to him.

"What's that, Papa Wo?"

"L-looks like an invite.."

Wo looked at what he held, then nodded in response.

"This was given to me earlier. It gives some details about a festival. Now, I know that we have just got back from a previous event, but, at the same time, I do think that it would be nice to attend this one also."

Ogerpon looked at what was on her plate, causing Wo to tilt his head a little.

"What's wrong, Ogerpon?"

Ogerpon hesitated, then began to speak again.

"I wanna go to more parties like that one we were at... ...but..."

Before she could finish, Pink spoke up.

"Wawa-wa wa-wawa wawa-wawa." ("She wants to go to the Terarium.")

Wo looked at Ogerpon, showing concern.

"Yeah.."

Wo's attention was then brought towards Spot.

"O-on the w-way back f-from Levincia, we went through M-Mesagoza.. ..a-and we saw Peseta p-preparing for s-something.. A-after asking th-them about what they w-were doing, w-we found out that th-they were going to the Terarium.."

The Malamar motioned to Ogerpon, who was still looking at her plate.

"...th-then Ogerpon r-ran up to them a-and asked if we c-could go w-with them.."

Ogerpon sniffed. Wo waited until she looked at him.

"..they said we could, and that made us really happy...but...if we go there, we can't go to the party.."

"I know you can't, but I also know that you and your siblings do like to explore the Terarium every now and then. I do remember that, when we all were there earlier this year, me and Oki lost all three of you repeatedly during our game of hide and seek. I did like that game, despite the slight worry it caused us."

"If...we can't go to the party...can we go to the next one..?"

Wo glanced over at Oki and blushed a little, then looked back to Ogerpon.

"The next party would be incomplete without you, Ogerpon~"

Ogerpon jumped a little as she hugged the snail. Wo returned it as he heard her happy sound.

After dinner had been cleared away, the family decided to sit outside the shrine for a while.

"So, when would Peseta say they would come to get you all?"

Pink looked up at Oki from where she sat on the grass.

"Wawa-wa." ("Tomorrow.")

Oki nodded, then sat beside her. He spoke as he observed the Tinkaton playing with the dirt.

"Are you looking forward to it?"

Pink looked up from her dirt pile and nodded, then returned to playing with it.

Oki got up once Pink motioned for him to go back to where Wo was.

"I hope you and Ogerpon and Spot have a good time! You usually do!"

He sat down next to Wo. The snail was showing signs of becoming tired, but was keeping himself awake with a little bit of difficulty.

"It is just going to be you and me when we go to this event, Oki~"

Wo leaned down and lightly nudged Oki, putting a vine around him.

Oki pulled himself up a little and gave him a light peck.

"Let's make the most of it, Wo~"

After sharing a little more light affection, Wo and Oki continued to watch Ogerpon, Pink and Spot until everyone grew too weary to continue being outside. Once everyone got into the shrine they weren't slow in going to their sleeping areas and passing out.

--

Chien-Pao had came to the shrine in the morning hours. As Oki finished preparations, Wo was outside talking to him.

Peseta had arrived too. They discussed what they were going to do at the Terarium, alongside how they were going to make sure that the three siblings didn't get lost in the biomes.

After discussions had finished, alongside preparations, Peseta and the three siblings left the shrine first. Ogerpon waved at Wo and Oki as she and her siblings ran to Mesagoza with the shiny Gholdengo.

Wo gave some extra guidelines to Pao. The leopard told him not to worry, as he was quite used to looking after Grasswither and knew where everything was. He became a little less enthusiastic when Wo mentioned how he also had to look after the allotment too.

Soon, everything had been finalized. Wo and Ok bid farewell to Pao. The snail waited for the leopard to go into Grasswither before going to catch up with Oki and putting a vine into his hand.

[inaris-mage-of-storms]

There was something about summer on the savanna that Jimmy found nostalgic.

Some might find that odd, since it wasn't all that different from the summers he was used to in the mesa valley. Tumble Town had the same dry air, the same hot sun, the same settling dust as the windswept biome he still thought of as home. Sure, the savanna had less sand and more soil, and crooked trees dotted the landscape instead of tumbleweed and dried-out bushes, but as far as the seasons went, the two neighboring areas were practically the same.

But it was nostalgia that settled in his chest all the same, thought Jimmy, as he placed one boot on the bottom of a ruined fence and leaned on the top. It wasn't a yearning for the savanna itself, but for the expanse of dry grass before him that had once been carefully-tended fields. It was for the crumbling farmhouse in the distance, now full of cobwebs and the occasional mob where it had once been full of love and laughter. And sometimes, if he let his thoughts wander far enough in the right direction, it was for one particular summer, and one particular visitor.

There was a summer, so many years before that Jimmy couldn't even put a number to it anymore, when a much younger version of himself had been lounging against a tree with a fishing pole dangling in the small struggling river, half dozing in the long stretches of time between bites. He dreamed while he fished, sometimes daydreams and sometimes actual dreams, of all the far-off places he'd never seen. He dreamed of well-traveled roads, of snow-capped mountains and towering cities, of dark, damp swamps and vast endless oceans, and as many people scattered across the world as there were stars in the sky.

His dream of a valley filled with flowers was interrupted by a tug at the end of his line, and Jimmy held perfectly still while he waited to see if the curious fish would latch onto the bait, but there was no more movement and after a few minutes he sighed in resignation. He yawned widely and opened his eyes, lazily scanning the empty horizon that never seemed to change.

Except for today. A flash of color against the brown grass caught his attention, and he jumped to his feet in excitement. "Granddad!" he yelled, sprinting toward the figure that knelt by the flowerbeds lining the house. "Oh crap, my fish - " He doubled back and pulled the stringer out of the water, making sure the two tiny fish he had secured earlier were still attached, then took off toward the house again. "Granddad! There's a person!"

His grandfather turned and lifted the brim of his hat to see a little better, squinting against the sun. "So there is," he said after a moment, "coming this way too from the looks of it." He looked at the line Jimmy held clutched in one hand. "Might as well get those cleaned up for lunch, then. A whole one for our guest, and you and I can split the other."

Jimmy darted inside the house to prepare lunch while the old man moved over toward the pump and made sure it was primed. Jimmy listened while he worked, waiting for the splash of water that meant he wouldn't need to go back to the river to haul buckets instead, and was pleased to hear the slow trickle begin after a few minutes.

He finished preparing the fish and was chopping mushrooms and carrots by the time the traveler made it to the house. "Howdy," he heard his grandfather call, and was disappointed to hear him step forward to meet their visitor away from the porch, out of earshot. He dropped the vegetables in the hot oiled pan, giving them an anxious stir and thinking about peering out the door. He was about to give in to his curiosity when he heard a lighter step on the porch behind his grandfather's heavy tread, and the door opened.

"Hello," said the stranger politely, taking off his hat.

Jimmy's own readied introduction caught in his throat. "Pretty," he breathed out instead, staring into eyes that were the most beautiful blue-green color he'd ever seen in his life. "I mean!" His face colored immediately. "Jimmy! I'm…my name is Jimmy. Hi."

The stranger laughed. "Hello, Jimmy," he said, in a voice with a lilting accent that Jimmy couldn't place, and his chest ached with the thought of how many stories of far-away places the man must have. "I'm Scott."

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