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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year

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A Lovesick Leviathan

Male Leviathan x Gender Neutral Slime Reader (CW: Painless noncon, inhuman reader, size difference, kidnapping, magical branding, temporarily frozen reader, general yandere behavior, minor character death, extreme violence towards minor character) Word count: 3.3k (Piece developed with a lot of input and help from @maxog3n, they also did the amazing art posted with this piece. I am sorry this took so long, but really hope you all enjoy it.)

Screams of pain, some ominous cracking sounds, and then silence.

Auggie let out a defeated sigh as he peeled the body of the human he had just fucked to death off of his cock, their pulverized insides mixed with his blue cum and leaking out everywhere.

Like the others that had died to his amorous pursuits, he hadn’t meant to kill them. In fact, he had loved each one of them and wanted them to be his mate. He carefully determined a suitable candidate, brought them home against their will, and eventually couldn’t contain his lust anymore and fucked them.

The problem was that he was not human. He was a leviathan and his massive member was simply too huge, both long and thick, and his thrusts were powerful. None survived even a single round with him.

He shed a tear as he buried his latest victim.

Then he wiped it away and immediately regained his usual jovial composure. That’s okay, they just weren’t “the one”. He had to expect these kinda snags every now and then if he was going to put himself out on the market.

It was just how dating worked.

Auggie decided that he needed to clear his mind and leave his shack for a while. Get some fresh air. Maybe he would add to his collection of items. Much like a mermaid, leviathans like him hoarded trinkets and baubles.

He made the decision to hit up the old abandoned building a few miles up the coast from his seaside abode. He did not know what the building had once been for, but he was very adventurous and was always looking for new stuff to add to his collection of treasures or materials to extend his shack with.

The leviathan definitely didn’t feel like going into town. Sure, the humans all fled and he could take whatever he wanted, but he did not want to deal with the panicked screams. Plus, he had already done that a dozen times, he wanted to explore somewhere new. And besides, the town was a lot farther than the abandoned facility and he didn’t feel like being out too late. Not with the long he had.

Auggie left the confines of his ramshackle house, and waded into the water, the blood from his previous “mate” leaving a faint trail of blood behind him as he swam up the coast towards his destination.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You were thrilled, your home was finally starting to feel cozy. Or whatever passed as cozy for a saltwater slime.

Spending all your life in the water just did not appeal to you, the surface was just so fascinating. You had spent a little time among some open-minded humans, but you longed to be closer to the sea.

So when you found a brine filled desalination plant completely abandoned for you to do with as you pleased you knew you had found a home from which you could explore the surrounding land and retreat to should the need arise.

It had taken a while, a little over a month, for you to tidy the place up and get things how you liked it. You had decorated the place with seashells, dead corals, and current smoothed glass to make everything feel more natural. You had even covered the first floor with a thick layer of sand!

Everything was perfect.

Just when you were admiring the work you had finally completed when you heard the stomping of a large animal of some type approaching.

You peered out the window and gasped.

A huge… thing… approached.

You had no idea what he could be. You only assumed it was a he because of the giant uncut cock flopping from below the most tiny and useless loincloth imaginable.

The lumbering behemoth had a chubby build, striking blue skin, scales from his ankles to his knees and from his wrists to his elbows, he had fins where a human’s ears would be, sharp teeth, and his dark medium length hair wasn’t hair at all, but instead a writing mass of tentacles.

He came closer and closer to the desalination facility, your home, it was clear it was his intent to enter and not just pass by like you had hoped.

The best option was to hide yourself. Luckily you were crystal clear, like gooey water, and could camouflage yourself easily.

There were many steel barrels along the wall to catch water from a sometimes leaky roof, you decided to hop in, even if he peeped in all you would just blend right in with the water that was in it.

Seconds after you got in you heard the door creak open.

Auggie took a few steps in and looked around the place, getting a handle of his surroundings.

The place had sand everywhere. And dried corals, shells, and smooth glass everywhere. Odd. It clearly wasn’t as abandoned as it had appeared to be from outside.

Maybe there was a potential mate here! If he wanted to find his soul mate he knew he had to be open minded about finding his partner wherever they may happen to meet.

And whoever called this place home had an aesthetic he enjoyed. They lived in a run down building not entirely unlike his shack, they were opportunistic like he was and they decorated the place to be like the ocean from which he originated.

He was sure he would get along well with whoever lived here.

You could not see him from your current position in the barrel, but you could hear him walking around and sniffing as if hunting for something.

Auggie explored every nook and cranny, using his sensitive nose to guide him, but even though it was clear as day that someone was using this as a home he could detect no scent other than that of saltwater.

Shrugging his shoulders, he decided to return to his original mission, seeking out trinkets for his treasure hoard and possibly materials to build with.

He found some rope and used it to tie some sheets of metal to his back, but other than that he hadn’t found much for his home. Carrying these he wouldn’t be able to swim back, he’d have to walk back at a leisurely pace.

Auggie started to head towards the doors to leave, as he did you heard the sound of his footsteps retreating and were so relieved.

But it was premature, he was disappointed in his haul so he took one last glance around the room just in case he missed something. He spied some pristine barrels in the corner. He could always use a nice new barrel!

The giant invader found one that was full of water, likely from that storm last night, it was pretty hot and since he had to walk back a refreshing splash of water would be nice and cooling should he need it on the return trip home.

You panicked as you and the water around you sloshed as he picked up the container that was currently serving as your hiding place. But your only option was to remain hidden for as long as you possibly could and make a break for it when you could.

Despite not having a traditional stomach you still felt very nauseous at being jostled with every step your unwitting kidnapper made. With how you were disoriented, you could not even give an accurate estimate of how long you had been in your current predicament, what was probably just thirty or forty minutes felt like unending hours.

Finally the moving about came to a stop, maybe he was home, maybe he would leave the container outside to use for water collection, you dared to hope. But these hopes were short lived as the behemoth lifted the container up and poured it over himself to cool off, causing you to tumble out in your default humanoid shape and reflexively grab on to whatever you could to prevent falling.

Whatever you could grab was the man who invaded your home, your gel-like arms around his broad shoulders.

You stared at each other for a moment until Auggie got a slight blush that was quickly replaced by a huge grin, revealing two rows of razor sharp teeth.

A brand new romantic interest just fell right into his lap! Well, you weren’t on his lap yet, but there would be time for that soon enough.

When you had recovered from the shock of being dumped directly on to this strange blue man you pushed yourself off of him and fell to the ground with a wet plop.

You started running.

“Hey wait! That’s really rude! I haven’t decided if I’m your boyfriend yet!!!”

What the hell was wrong with this guy? You heard him utter some strange mystic sounding words before hearing an odd whoosh and suddenly you felt indescribably heavy. Your vision frosted over and you fell over. Hard.

Everything was so cold, you couldn’t move at all! You had been completely frozen, evidently this crazy man had ice magic. Just your luck.

“Don’t worry, I am pretty sure I will be your boyfriend! I liked all the décor in your former home. We have so much more in common than the people I normally date!”

He walked up to you slowly, picked you up carefully, and then placed you back in the barrel he had been unwittingly hauling you in.

This manner of being handled was… humiliating to say the least.

Once again you were jostled around in the barrel, now without water and with more pain in your newly acquired solidified form. It was so restrictive. You were used to being more free moving than what a solid being was capable of and now here you were completely paralyzed.

Once again, the trip felt like it was taking an eternity. Except now it was worse, as every second was punctuated by the deep seated fear of what may become of you when the journey ended.

You also were forced to contend with the large man’s non-stop talking.

“I’m Auggie! I am so glad we met. I think it was probably fate. Like we were meant to find each other! I haven't met many slimes before. Only a couple times when swimming and I couldn’t see them well enough in the water to bring them back to date…”

You tuned Auggie out after a while. He just wouldn’t stop talking about how happy he was and how he had been in need of a new partner.

Finally you thawed out enough to talk, though you were still too stiff to move quickly.

“What is wrong with you!? We are NOT dating!!”

“Oh~ You have such a lovely voice! I am so happy to hear it. We are definitely dating now so I can hear you talk everyday~”

He hummed happily as he continued about his merry way, leaving your objection completely unacknowledged.

“Excuse me!? I just said we are NOT dating!!”

Though the words he spoke were… demented… he said them in the same happy go lucky jovial tone with which he had been speaking, “Don’t be silly, of course we are. I already was sure I would like you based on your home and with us both being sea critters, but after hearing your voice I simply can’t be without you~ I am so sorry if I implied you have a choice!”

After letting out a defeated whimper you went silent.

Auggie continued babbling about all the stuff the two of you would do together. As your destination approached he started running, he was just so eager to get you nice and settled in your brand new home.

You grunted in annoyance as you were bounced about in your glorified bucket.

“Oh. Heh heh. Sorry, I just got carried away.”

He slowed down to a brisk walk the rest of the way.

“We’re here!” He shouted in a chipper manner. For a totally psychotic kidnapper hellbent on forcing you to be in a relationship he sure was cheerful.

The barrel was placed down with a thud before he pulled you out. You were thawed to the point of being like a slurry and his warm hands felt rather nice.

Though you’d still rather be anywhere else.

You saw his home and were shocked, how could anyone live in something like this? It was a towering mass of junk. Large slabs of metal and wood cobbled together. It was actually kinda impressive how structurally sound it appeared to be despite the building materials used in its construction.

Auggie slung your chilled form over his shoulders without warning, eliciting a startled sound from you.

He opened the doors and set you down on a rugged chair that was clearly meant for beings around your size. Humans.

How many people had been forced to accept Auggie as their “boyfriend”. Were you going to die here?

You took stock of your surroundings, if you were ever going to escape you would need to know potential weapons, escape routes, and hiding places.

But honestly you didn’t even know where to start, the building was huge as it was meant for such a large being like Auggie. And it seemed like he had the same inclinations as mermen when it came to collecting objects of interest. Though instead of valuables like coins, gems, and shells Auggie seemed to be interested in… a different sort of collection.

Mounted on the wall as if some sort of poster was a set of doors that read “Tony’s Bar and Bistro”. Standing in the corner was a surfboard that looked as if a bite had been taken out of it with a lifebuoy around it. Other items strewn about the place included a slot machine, street signs, and a child’s tricycle.

There were random items in all sorts of places.

The ceiling was no exception. Hanging upside down from the ceiling, above even Auggie’s head, were several random and out of place items. Though the strangest of all was a… parking meter? You couldn’t be sure, you had only stealthily visited a human city a couple times.

None of this stuff helped you though, and it seemed the only way out was through the large front door.

Without any warning Auggie crouched down in front of you and stared intensely with a smug grin.

“I bet right now you are thinking of ways to leave aren’t cha? Without even giving our love a chance! Don’t worry I will take the burden of worrying about freedom away!”

He held his webbed pointer finger to your chest and muttered a complex incantation. You didn’t notice it before but he had a tattoo in the shape of a trident on his thigh, it glowed with a blue light as he uttered his spell and suddenly you had a matching tattoo marked on your chest.

It didn’t harm you at all, but his wicked grin coupled with the mark’s magical origins worried you.

“Wh-what’s that…?”

“Do you like it? It’s my brand! It means you’re alllll mine~”

You gave a face of disgust.

“It’s okay if you don’t believe it yet, some people are just slower learners. That’s okay.”

Your only reply was to glare at him silently.

“You’re never leaving me.”

You chose to just keep shooting him an angry look. It didn’t matter what he thought, you would slip away at the first opportunity. You were a slime, slippery and versatile, there were very few ways you could be contained long term. And he couldn’t just keep re-freezing you every single time you bolted.

“Haha, what? Don’t believe me dummy? Okay then… go ahead…”

With a smirk he got up and went to the door, holding it wide open for you.

“Go on, leave.”

He gestured you out the door and you didn’t hesitate, maybe he thought he could freeze you, or close the door, or push you back somehow, but were prepared for anything. You were positive that the smug expression was wiped from his face as you took on a taller and slimmer shape and zipped on by before he could react.

You got maybe all of 15ft. away from the shack before you were yanked back by some invisible force and landed on the ground.

“What th-”

You heard the heavy footsteps of your captor approach from behind.

“Have you caught on yet cutie? I told you, you’re allll mine~ My little mark on you ties you to me, you will never be able to go very far.”

For the first time that day you truly felt despair. The thought you could get away was the sole barrier that had prevented you from giving in to the filling of hopelessness that now threatened to consume you, but that was gone now. You were left with nothing but soul crushing helplessness… that and Auggie.

He scooped you up and carried you back to his house laying you in his large and rather decadent bed, a stark contrast to the ramshackle state of the rest of his home.

Auggie stood by the bed and positioned your legs to hang off of it, you guessed at what he was planning but were too caught up in your sense of doom and despair to react properly or mount even the slightest resistance.

“Awww, don’t be sad darlin’, this’ll be fun!” He chuckled with his normal sense of joy and lack of care for what anyone else wanted.

The leviathan stroked his cock to its staggering full length and lined it up between your legs.

You did not have an entrance there. Slimes simply absorbed plankton or other nutrient sources through their membranes and deposited what was indigestible in the same manner, and there was no conventional reproductive system. Slimes of your type would meet, partially join limbs, and create an egg.

But that sure didn’t stop Auggie from penetrating you anyway.

Luckily your slime body was extremely durable and felt little pain from such actions. He slammed into you right through your membrane, gripping your sides as he pulled you down to the base. His blue precum leaked into your body, leaving blue streaks where it dissolved.

He moved you back and forth like a fleshlight, like you were just some toy for his pleasure, not a living being with your own agency.

You were entirely limp in his hands, just a nice gooey warmth around his cock, feeling neither pleasure or pain from his ever increasing thrusts.

No, as you stared up at him, being moved back and forth on his cock, the only thing you felt was an uncomfortable pressure. And an overwhelming sense of violation.

Finally he pushed in as far as he could, his dick drilling all the way into your head as he unleashed his glowing blue cum into you. He let out a relaxed sigh as his cock lay inside you throbbing, still drooling more and more seed into you from his huge nuts.

Auggie finally pulled out of you, his semen had made your entire body swell considerably and it turned you from clear and transparent to a bright and faintly glowing blue as your body absorbed it like food.

“Oooh, you took my cock so well and became even prettier! It definitely means you’re meant for me! And it looks like my cum is good food for my gooey little darling too~ Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to feed you plenty EVERY. DAY.”

Your existence as a slime, what once granted you versatility and mobility. What you considered a blessed existence better than being a restrained solid, was now the cause of your loss of any freedom.

Because now that Auggie was in love with a mate that his cock couldn’t kill he was never going to let you go.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #yandere monster #gender neutral reader #yandere boyfriend #male yandere #male yandere x gn reader #my ocs #My OC Auggie

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un-officql · 7 months

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Encounter by the Beach

NSFW 1.7k word count tentacles x male!reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST

On the beach, the sand is warm and the waves ebb and flow. It is a nice day out, not too hot, and you decide to visit the ocean today. The waves kiss the shore as you walk beside the edge where the sand meets the sea. You walk closer to the water and feel that the water is cold. It isn't freezing, but you find that the deeper you went, the colder it got. Finding the strength to push forward, you go further into the water. The floor beneath you is a mix of rocks and sand.

As you continue to venture out to sea, you feel something slimy touch your toe. Alarmed, you immediately move back, thinking, 'Gross!' As quickly as you backed away though, you forced yourself to calm down and assume it was just a rock with algae on it. Brushing it off, you do as you have been until your foot touches another slimy thing. It felt exactly the same as the last, if not a little bigger. More slime did seem to mean it must be a bigger rock. You remove your foot once again and continue forward, until you encounter another rock, and another. You think, if you continue like this, there will just be a bigger scale of algae covered rocks. Not wanting that, you turned around and began to retreat back to where you came.

You stepped a few times in another direction until you felt something wrap around one of your legs and yank you back. You stagger, kicking away whatever caught onto your leg. It was a bit tough, but you managed to get it away. You make a face of disgust. It didn't feel like kelp or seaweed. In fact, it felt just like those slimy rocks.

Before you can attempt to take another step again, the unknown appendage finds its way back and wraps around your other leg. You yelp, kicking away at it. But this time, it didn't budge. Instead, you felt its grasp become tighter. You struggle and kick, still finding that your efforts are useless. You take a moment to catch your breath, moving your arms a little to help your head stay above the water. Seizing this chance, another similar unknown appendage coils around your other leg, now making both legs unable to move.

You panic, now making your arms work double to try to get you out of there and move closer to shore. But the more you try to swim away, the more the slimy appendages drag you away, deeper and deeper until your head is fully submerged into the water. Your arms struggle to move, much less help your head reach air. You open your eyes under the water to see what exactly was dragging you into the water. Two glowing light blue tendrils that looked almost see-through were what had a hold of your legs. They were both wrapped tightly around your calves and reaching just above your knees, but the most important thing you realized was that they had felt the same kind of slimy feeling that you got when you touched the rocks. Your eyes widened. They weren't rocks.

They're tentacles.

While you were distracted, two more tentacles latch onto your wrists, seizing any movement completely. No matter how much you tried to fight back, it wasn't long before your strength had left you and you couldn't hold your breath any longer.

You feel lightheaded, and your immediate thoughts are that you're going to die. But to your surprise, the tentacles move your arms up to the surface for you to breathe again. You cough, trying to get all the water out of your system. You feel another tentacle slip onto your back and rub it gently, as if trying to soothe you through your coughing. When you're done, the tentacles drag you away again, making sure to keep your head above the water but occasionally making water splash into your mouth anyway. Not even a minute away, you reach a stone cavern near the shore. Somehow, you noticed that the cave still managed to be deep enough for your legs to not reach the bottom.

The tentacles prop you up against the wall where there's a small ledge of rock for you to sit on. Pinning your arms above you, the tentacles begin to rearrange themselves. One keeps your wrists bound above your head while two of them spread your legs apart. You whine and squirm, hating the feeling of the slimy tentacles against your skin. The tentacles tighten their hold on you just as they did before, and it makes it much harder for you to move much at all. To make things worse, a thicker tentacle appears near you and slithers its way under your clothes, and you gasp as it slowly runs up your waist and eventually wrapping itself securely around your chest. With your arms, legs, and torso bound, you can't move anything but your head.

Just then, the water surrounding you begins to make little bubbles and ripples in the water. When you look down, you watch in horror as what looks to be about ten more tentacles emerge from the water, all light blue and glowing and semi-transparent. Something else you notice though is that they all varied in size. The tentacles approach you slowly, and you almost scream. One tentacle shoves itself into your mouth, preventing any loud sounds to come out from you. The only sound that could be heard was your muffled yells and screams.

While you screamed and tried to call for help, the other tentacles began to wrap themselves around your body, rubbing and caressing any skin they could touch. They poked and prodded at your clothes, eventually deciding on their own to rip them off you. You jolt at the sound of your clothes being torn apart, terrified of the strength of the tentacles that have you in their grasp. A small gust of wind brushes against your newly bare body, and you shudder and struggle, trying anything to squirm away. While you were focused on struggling, a tentacle wraps itself around your dick. Slowly but surely, it starts to squeeze gently and cover your whole length as it hardens. Tears prick in your eyes, your moans muffled by the tentacle in your mouth. The tentacle around your member kept a slow and steady pace for you, then went faster the more you moaned.

Another tentacle caught your eye when you looked down, and your eyes widened as you watched it breach your entrance. It pushed itself inside you with some difficulty. You felt a burning in your lower body as you felt the tentancle inch its way inside you. Spurts of milky white cum dripped from your dick as you moaned and sobbed, tears falling as your muffled wails echoed the cavern. Your cum spread on your thighs and knees, and some of the rock you were positioned on had drops of your cum too. The tentacle wrapped around your dick didn't stop moving, but it slowed down jerking you off so you could adjust to the tentacle entering your tight hole. After you've adjusted, every tentacle surrounding you, inside you, wrapped tightly around you, moved in a way that you could only feel pleasure. It started of slow, but even when it barely sped up, you came a second time. Then a third time. By the fourth you felt like you were going to pass out.

Unbeknownst to you, whenever you came, the tentacles gradually got thicker in size and grew slightly in length. By now you were practically choking on the tentacle playing with your tongue while you were fucked senseless by a tentacle thicker than your own cock down below. The sensation was unlike anything you've ever felt. Pleasure and pain mixed together and blurred so much you couldn't tell which was which anymore.

୨୧

You're unsure of how much time had passed, but the brighter the tentacles became, the darker the cavern was. You must've been fucked for an hour, maybe two, maybe more. The relentless poking and prodding being done to your body, the choking and rubbing and squeezing and pounding, the way you twitched and went limp only to be jolted awake again for a hundredth round... it was too much. It was so much you felt you could die. But it felt so good. No, it felt too good. It was too much, you wanted to cry out. It's all too much.

It was completely dark. Or at least it would've been if the tentacles in and around you didn't glow. They were so bright in the stark contrast of dark that you could see the tentacle in your hole pumping in and out, reaching your prostate almost every time. Your body felt sticky and slimy all over, and you're not sure if it's because of how much you came or if it's the tentacles' fault. You were too exhausted to care, too out of it. Your mind became mush and at some point the tentacle in your mouth removed itself, joining inside your ass with the tentacle who was already in there. How both of them fit inside you, you couldn't be sure.

୨୧

You pass out and wake up and cum and cry multiple times in one night, and eventually you just black out completely, not waking no matter how much the tentacles pump into you or rub you or squeeze you. You're completely down for the count until you wake up the next morning.

୨୧

When your eyes finally open, you feel as though you want to go back to sleep. You are still positioned on the rocky ledge in the cavern, but your hands are to your sides instead of being pinned above your head. You ffeel sore all over and feel almost heavy. You looke down to find that your body, as well as the rock ledge you're on, is completely covered, practically soaked, in milky white cum.

The tentacles had left you, left naked and covered in your own cum. You feel yourself on the verge of passing out again, and when you hear the shout of someone familiar, you close your eyes once again for just one more nap. The familiar voice rumbles in your ears, growing louder and sounding more panicked as it got closer. You don't register any of their words. You fall asleep.

#💌#monster fucker #exophilia #terato #tentacles #tentacle monster #monster x male reader #tentacles x male reader

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stilljuststardust · 8 months

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Tools for emotional regulation

This is specifically things I do for end of day decompression. I take an hour and I do different things off this list till I'm relaxed.

I understand that alot of these are "basic" but it's less about what you do and more so about taking time to care for yourself and ne present in your body in ways that feel safe.

I've broken this down in to categories of self soothing.

Environment

A calming environment is beneficial for obvious reasons so here's things I do to feel more safe in mine.

1. Turn off over head lights and uses LEDs, candles, or lamps instead

2. Noise cancelling headphones

3. Phone off

4. Christmas lights for some reason

5. Someplace to sit that isn't your bed (you can put pillows and blankets on the floor if need be)

6. I usually cleanse (witchy, may not be your thing)

7. Protection spells on your room specifically (witchy, may not be your thing)

8. Stuffies

Stimming

If you don't know what stimming is it's stimulating your senses as a form of self soothing. It's ok to move your body in "weird" ways, make odd sounds, or look for sensory experiences you find comforting. Nobody is watching, there's no one around to judge you release the feelings! I usually windmill my arms, rock back and forth, hum/sing, jump, etc. Anything you want.

It's actually really important to set aside time for stimming! You don't realize how important it is until you do it! It's scientifically proven to be harmful (particularly for autistic people) not to stim. It's really hard to unlearn suppressing it, so giving yourself a safe place to do so where you don't have to worry about what people think is important.

Sensory Seeking

Using tastes, textures, sounds, and visuals you like as a tool for self soothing is extremely powerful. This can look like so many things. I personally use perfume. I find certain scents incredibly calming and when I have them on I take deeper breaths because of them so it's a win win.

Other sensory examples:

1. use slime/clay

2. Touch fabrics you enjoy (like ultra soft blankets)

3. Listen to soothing sounds like music, rain, or ASMR

4. Drink a hot drink like tea or hot cocoa

5. Take a warm shower

6. Heating pads

7. Compression (weighted blankets/stuffies work great)

8. Stim boards

Clear mind

Sometimes you just need to get your feelings out. Having an outlet where you just express how you feel without worrying how it's perceived is important!

1. Journal (it's important to write like no one will read it cause they won't, unless someone will lol)

2. Sit outside or by a window

3. Write your doubts on toilet paper then fucking flush that shit to the sewers where it belongs.

4. Draw your feelings

5. Scribble non sensically

6. Scream into the void

Inner child time

It's time to kick internalized shame to the curb. What does your inner child want right now? If you were a kid again what would you do? It isn't wrong to do things you would've loved as a kid. It's important actually. What can you now do that you wish you could've done as a kid?

This one is incredibly individual cause I don't know what your inner child wants I'm just giving out ideas.

1. Play with slime, clay, kinetic sand, or play doh

2. Draw

3. Play with toys (have no shame)

4. Color

5. Legos

6. Read

7. Write a story

8. Make a "potion" (don't mix chemicals though)

9. Play with shaving cream I know you want to

10. Build a fort

11. Fluffy pajamas

12. Dance

13. Preform for stuffed animals

14. Barbie soap opera

15. Rewatch comfort shows

#autistic things #shifting antis dni #shiftblr #self regulation

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sheloves-toomuch · 6 months

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Introductions

The very beginning of this work in progress. This is a bit of a session zero, if you will. Introductions to Baldur's Gate 3 characters, which, are already known by most and can likely be skipped by many.

Zenosyne, the Bhaalspawn Siren makes her first appearance.

As always I'm open to suggestions, feedback, and thoughts.

(image not mine)

TW: blood and scary themes. Some language. The story will grow darker as it will borrow from elements of the game itself as well as the Grimm's fairytales, Hans Christian Anderson's The Little Mermaid, and dark folklore. These elements of the story will be evident later on.

Zenosyne had endured quite the day.

First, she had fallen limp from a smelly pod aboard an Ilithid ship- buckling at the knees as the hatch hissed with the release of pressure. Gravity brought her down with no effort, and she took several minutes to readjust her vision and her senses to the new environment. She knew only two things: one was her name- Zenosyne. She said it aloud to ground her thoughts. The other was that she had no memory of who she, Zenosyne, was. A sling of glass beads over her chest- some jewelry, sandals that were rubbing blisters into her now slimy ankles. Was that… Ilithid slime?.... A skirt fashioned from silk and the same glass beads that remained a theme throughout her attire. Very, very long curly hair of a deep, dark green that looked black in these dim shadows.

No, she knew three things. She also knew that her head was pounding with skull-splitting pain. It almost matched the loud clamor that was all around her. Pods were crushed, opened, tossed around in every direction as she felt her stomach elevate into her throat- her whole body suspended in the air for what felt like an eternity as the ship fell from the sky. A scream of terror that felt melodious in a twisted, dark way. The scent of blood mixing with the unfamiliar scent of Ilithid slime was still enough to leave her senses overwhelmed and her mouth watering.

Is that… normal?

She attempted to rise to her feet- struggling with her balance as she swayed with the forceful heaving of the crashing vessel. She rushed towards the exit of the dark room- towards any light she could see.

It was through the twisted, oddly fleshy and oozy walls of this ship that she was threatened- and then joined by a githyanki warrior- Lae’zel of Creche K’liir. Together they found a half-elven woman, a priestess of Shar known only as Shadowheart.

Zenosyne thought that perhaps she liked introductions and conversation- if she could make a guess about herself, she would have guessed in that moment that she was a very personable woman… but now was not the time to engage in frivolities. With their help, she managed to grab hold of the control panel of the ship. Both of her arms were jolting with the overpowering force of these foreign steering mechanisms that had lost all control. She felt helpless as the ship plummeted faster and faster, spinning out as she braced both feet to the console and held fast in a vain attempt to regain altitude. That was the last thing she remembered of their eventful descent to the beach. That, and a flash of light as she lay on her back- the sand scratching her bare skin as she looked into the night sky.

And the scent of blood- leaving her comforted.

Zenosyne’s head had pounded for days as she began to “collect” a band of survivors from the Ilithid vessel.

Lae’zel, the Githyanki warrior and Shadowheart begrudgingly made temporary allyship in order to figure out what had occurred. All they knew is that they had been infected with Ilithid tadpoles- their minds connected to one another telepathically. It felt intrusive.

Neither of them knew why Zenosyne had no memory of who she was. She decided at first to leave out the part where she was drawn to the scent of blood and the sound of broken bones. That didn’t seem appropriate for a first meeting. Then again, she didn’t know. So, she asked,

“Are you feeling any… pull to the violence? The carnage?”

“No more than usual” The githyanki answered plainly.

Shadowheart, the Sharran preistess had looked Zenosyne up and down with piercing green eyes- her long, black braid somehow perfectly intact despite their eventful trip. She crossed her chainmail laden arms and tilted her nose upwards in a judging fashion.

“You look like a worshipper of Umberlee.” She sneered. “And you are elven. Some kind of elf, anyway. Not like any that I’ve seen. You fit neither sun nor moon elf traits.” She added, her voice elegant and sure.

True, her skin wasn't pale like the moon elves, and her eyes were not golden like the sun elves. She must have spent much time in the sun- and in the ocean. The trinkets, beads, and shells she wore made this evident.

Umberlee….. Umberlee… yes, the “Bitch Queen.” Wavemother, they called her. Zenosyne tried to collect any memories of this- but beyond rudimentary knowledge of who the goddess was she was left empty.

“I see you worship Shar” Zenosyne said, her voice soft and quiet-- singsong even. It sounded calmer than she felt. She noted the silver and purple armour that adorned the woman with clear admiration of the fine craftsmanship. She stepped closer to have a look- but Shadowheart leaned back from her eager approach.

“A false goddess” Lae-zel hissed with judgement. Her armour was less covering- furs and leathers over heavily scarred green skin. The breastplate she wore studded with gems that made Zenosyne envious. She clearly felt she was dexterous enough in battle to forego a full suit. That pride alone made her intimidating.

This comment from Lae’zel, however, devolved into an argument between the two women which only stopped when they cleared the hill over the smoky wreckage. Zenosyne held up a hand- the beads of her attire were louder than she had hoped they would be. It caught the attention of the one whom she had hoped to assess from afar. A glowing figure stood in the sun, posture upright and proud as the figure turned quickly towards them.

This man was elven- that was for certain- his skin was whiter than lusted pearls, and his curly, voluminous hair even whiter. Zenosyne gasped as his red eyes met her own under concerned brows. His face was the most beautiful she had ever seen… although, she had only seen three now that had not been mangled upon the shore beyond recognition.

Suddenly, she wondered how she looked as he beckoned her over with a finger pressed to his lips. She smiled, stupidly, approaching him.

“Hello, are y-”

“Ssshhhhh” he quieted her. “There’s something in the brush there…. You can kill it, can’t you? Like you killed the others?”

She nodded, eager to help him. She inched her way towards the brush. A rustle of leaves and dry, singed branches were followed by a dashing boar. She cried out in a startle- but before she could say a word she was pinned to the ground- struggling with a dagger to her throat. She held it with surprising strength from her skin and looked at the perfect elf with disdain and fear. She thought to herself that he looked like the princes that were painted so beautifully in fairytale books. If he were not so scary.

“Shh… Shhh, shh.” His voice was low and calming. His actions were not. “Not another sound, not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours…” he spent a long time drawling the term of endearment. “You were on the ship, weren’t you?... Nod.”

She nodded.

“Very good.”

He was about to go on about the tadpoles, surely, when suddenly their minds collided. She saw him lurking in the shadows, beckoning people into the dark with him. Baldur’s Gate. She knew the streets. Somehow.

With a force that popped her ears she was flung out of his mind.

“WHAT WAS THAT?” He demanded, his previously soothing tones now ferocious.

“The tadpole. The illithid mindflayers implanted them into all of us.” She said, hurriedly.

He eased his grip in a few moments. He seemed to be thinking this through. In what looked like a fit of madness, he bent forward in a roaring laugh that just as quickly as it had come, vanished. “Of course it would turn me into a monster” he said, sighing. “You aren’t one of them, then.”

“Absolutely not!” she cried, defensively. His sudden break of emotion made her suspicious.

“Well, what a relief.” His voice was proud once again. His enunciation impeccable. “And to think I was going to decorate the ground with your innards… My name’s Astarion” he said, drawing out his name with poise and respect for each syllable. The thought of entrails on the shore consumed her mind for a few moments. Rubies splattered across the sand. She disregarded the thought.

“Oh, what a beautiful name. I’m Zenosyne. And it’s alright… I might have done the same thing were I in your position.”

Lae’zel disapproved of her statement, hoping for bloodshed.

He seemed confused by her name- but nodded nonetheless.

“More than just a pretty face, then” he added flirtatiously.

Zenosyne giggled, “Oh, you think I am?” Her voice was uncomfortably loud, betraying her susceptibility to his charms.

Shadowheart interrupted their discourse-

“Enough of that. We need to figure out where we will make camp, and where the nearest skilled healer is before we become mindflayers”

___

The next of their companions was met first only by a hand reaching out from a broken portal by the cliffs. Someone had cast a powerful spell to transport themselves somewhere, but had failed miserably.

“A hand? Anyone?” A nervous voice echoed as though it were inside empty halls, and his breaths were muffled by the electricity of the spell.

Zenosyne stood there, the others awaiting her reaction. She was thinking long and hard about what to do. She could cleave the hand from his wrist right there- a part of her wanted to…

No, no, she pushed the image from her brain and reached out to pull on the hand to no avail. She looked at each her companions one by one as if to ask for help, but none came to her aid. She waited.

Astarion sighed and rolled his eyes, “Alright” he said, clearly peeved. Together, they both tugged at the flailing hand. Astarion’s skin brushed up against hers- and it was ice cold. How… nice. Corpse like.

A man tumbled out of the portal. Handsome, tall, enrobed in purple and brown. His wavy brown tresses rested on broad shoulders, and his smile was framed by a well-kept beard. Eyes twinkling, he introduced himself as Gale, Wizard of Waterdeep.

“Forgive me, normally I’m much better at this kind of thing”

“What kind of thing is that?” Zenosyne asked.

“Introductions. But, before you think me most rude, allow me to make amends for our rushed acquaintance.” He took her hand, bowing deeply.

She smiled happily.

“Marvelous! You should join us as we attempt to rid ourselves of these parasites.”

And so it was, the party continued on to the Druid’s Grove, where many had already fled the chaos and bloodshed that had been inflicted by the followers of a new, terrifying cult that terrorized the local lands. It was here that the clang of swords rung out, and training commenced as the children tried to learn what they could. Zenosyne decided it was all too much to take in at once, instead asking around for a healer and for help.

But in the golden afternoon light that peeked through the rocks that towered overhead they would meet their next companion. A man stood poised to teach swordsmanship. His footwork was elegant and every movement was calculated. He was not only well trained, but he was very graceful. It was as though his feet moved of their own accord, separate from the quick movements of the blade. His free hand upturned, as though he were waiting patiently for someone to take it.

Zenosyne spoke up, “Excuse me?” her vice timid. When their eyes met the familiar crackle of energy met her brain- and their minds opened to one another. She saw visions of the hells. He saw the ship crash and the joining of strangers. He pushed her quickly from his thoughts. “You were on that godsforsaken ship yourself…” He whispered.

“We’re looking for a healer and some rest. It seems you are preparing to make haste away from this place, though, sir.”

“We are, in fact. Preparing these young ones so that they may stand a chance when the time comes…” his face turned dark before he eased his demeanor and introduced himself.

“Wyll Ravengard. Blade of Frontiers, at your service” he said warmly.

“THE Blade of Frontiers? Son of Duke Ravengard?” Astarion asked incredulously. “This day keeps getting more and more interesting.”

“You should join us” Shadowheart volunteered. “As we intend to survive this.”

“I will, gladly join you to rid us of this godsdamned infection…” he eagerly spoke. He then went on to say more. “However, before anything I must find one Karlach, a Tiefling that escaped Zariel’s rule. It is my imperative to kill her before I do anything else.”

One adventure led to another. They agreed to find this Karlach to gain the trust of this formidable ally.

___

In the damp forest well beyond the grove, and well beyond the ruins of a now abandoned village overrun with goblins- they found the Tiefling.

In a most odd turn of events, upon approaching her all of their minds collided with the now familiar pulse of psionic energy that connected them all. The tall, imposing Tiefling towered over them all as she explained with teary eyes that she had been forced into the blood war- and now that she had escaped the hells she would never return. She certainly looked the part- leathers torn to shreds over her terrifyingly strong body. The smell of sulfur and smoke was heavy on her skin.

“Zariel, the archdevil herself, gave me this-” Karlach thumped her fist to her glowing red chest- “an infernal engine as a heart. So hot that it burns with hellfire. So hot, in fact, that I’ve not touched a soul in years. I can’t.”

It made Zenosyne’s heart sad to see such a ferocious creature so heartbroken. The vulnerability of this Karlach was evident- and Zenosyne knew all too well what that felt like right now.

“I was nothing more than her favorite pet, really.” Karlach’s voice shaky.

“Karlach, join us!” Zenosyne said, touched by the tale. “We will do what we can to help you fix your heart.”

And so it was that this band of adventurers would begin their journey. Truly, a band of strange and unusual misfits.

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loneberry · 9 months

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From “Poem Of The End” by Marina Tsvetaeva, translated from Russian by Elaine Feinstein

Prague. When I think of Prague I see the Russian poet Marina Tsvetaeva separating from her lover Konstantin Rozdevitch on the Charles Bridge, her heart breaking, her body burning. Like an animal stabbed in the stomach, she begs for 1 inch of lead to the heart. Everywhere, she is an exile everywhere she goes. All poets are, for “life is the place where it’s forbidden to live.” (I had used that Tsvetaeva line as the title for the poem that opens my Sunflower book, the poem about being lost: "She is lost and I am lost but the difference is she is a novice at being lost, whereas I have always been without country.")

12 years ago I saw the bridge. I wrote:

Everything shrouded in a mystical slime. A crazed sleep-deprived flâneuse wandering through old European cities with a notebook full of somniloquent scribblings. The people walk around looking all processional and I swear to God, the tourists on the Charles Bridge in Prague were part of some kind of sublime funeral. It seemed like everyone was wearing black, walking past the blackened statues with their black gloves while the black birds soared across the sky. I break down teary-eyed on the train from Berlin to Prague...

Yesterday at dawn I went to the Charles Bridge to read sections 7 and 8 of Tsvetaeva's "Poem of the End" (see section 8 above). I used to go to the Brooklyn Bridge to read the "Atlantis" section of Hart Crane's The Bridge. I guess I feel that to understand something about the spiritual topography of my favorite poets, I should go to the places that inspired the poems and read them, to learn something about the architecture of memory, how we are emotionally branded by certain places of affective intensity.

It was cold and windy. Gulls and other birds were circling and cawing. Suddenly my phone battery went from 87% to 1%. After reading the poem I went into a cafe to charge my phone. A chill to my bone. A fatigue unlike anything I had felt before--beyond the typical jet lag. Went home and fell asleep. Dreamed of the phantoms of the heart, the ones that haunt the poets--everything gets mixed up there, in dreams. What are you chasing? "And when I wake she melts away into the sand." Did not want the dream to end, but I had a talk to deliver at the Academy of Fine Arts. After the talk we ate Neapolitan pizza and someone told me about her dreams of escaping death. She was in an elevator hurtling toward the ground. Death is coming. She resigned herself to it. Always, she accepts what is coming. But when the elevator crashed on the ground she was somehow unscathed. The door opened: desert. She was in the desert.

I like to think that everywhere I go, I am walking in the footsteps of a poet. What did she see, who did she become passing through this place? I see Tsvetaeva murdering her love, transforming, sensual and holy, from a lover into a poet. What is it that sinks like a ship, in the last line of the poem? She is letting go. Love is swallowed by the wave.

The Charles Bridge just before dawn.

#marina tsvetaeva #literature #poetry #separation #water #rivers #river #love #prague

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cg-saturn · 2 years

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as someone with a hard time voluntarily regressing, do you have advice?

the last time i tried it took me three hours and five coloring pages and a whole season of bluey </3

all the websites i looked at were like "get your paci" a=but i don't have any gear to make me feel small

Hey kiddo!

I know it can be hard to regress sometimes for whatever reason- maybe you've been too stressed, too busy, or just having a little block the same way artists or writers sometimes have. But I promise, you are still a valid little even if you struggle with regression at times.

Regression can come in so many different ways for people that it can be hard to give a definitive answer of how to make regression easier for you specifically, but I do know for some people who don't have the ability to own gear for any reason (living or financial situations) it can be even harder. So Star and I decided to come up with a little list of activities that can help with both! If anyone has any ideas or questions, please reblog and we'll add/answer what we can!

For kiddos who don't have gear because of living situations-

Legos- these are a great toys that can be bought in "adult" type sets, and many people don't question having Legos as a hobby no matter what age you are! Make yourself a little castle, or your own creations!

Magnets- I've always loved playing with magnets! You can get packs of bead magnets for fidgits and sounds, or even just play with the invisible force between two refrigerator magnets!

Playdough/slime - you can buy it or look up some easy at home recipes! Make it your favorite color, and add some glitter or beads to it for a textured play!

Tangles/figdgit toys- I've always loved fidgit toys, but some of them can secretly act as chewies/pacis too depending on textures!

Childhood movies- now that streaming is more avalible, it's pretty easy to access some movies from our childhoods! Personally I love the old animation of Disney movies, but there's also Scooby-Doo and all sorts of other cartoon network shows on hbo and Netflix!

Stuffie party- gather all of your pals and make a big circle on your bed or the floor, and enjoy their company! Ask them about their days, what did they get up to while you were out?

Kids apps- im planning to make a larger post about these in the future, but there are tons of apps that can help the regression process, and it's easier to hide if you're scared of people finding out.

Agere blogs- this one is kind of silly, but I think sometimes it can help a lot to scroll through some blogs that post outfit boards and soft little things! It can help to know you're not alone in your regression too, and maybe you can meet some friends who will help you in the future!

For kiddos who don't have gear because of financials-

Baby Einstein YouTube- if you don't remember Baby Einstein, it used to be a DVD series on learning for kids! They've moved to YouTube, and you can listen to various songs and watch different shapes and colors, it's very relaxing! You can do the same with clips from shows like sesame street.

Tell a story / madlibs- making things up and being creative is a great way to open your little mind. Telling a story about the unicorn who lives in the woods, or making up a silly madlib about the purple horse who jumped the tree. Make up the silliest story you can, don't worry about it making any sense, that's the whole fun of it!

Kids music- you can find playlists on YouTube and spotify for kids music! You can go from instrumental to learning songs like "wheels on the bus"!

Play with textures- at work we have sensory buckets for the kids. Put sand or rice or glitter in a bowl, mix in some beads, bells, cotton balls, or whatever other fun textured things you have around. Just put your hands in it and explore! Take time to touch every texture, try to focus on objects like it was your very first time seeing it!

Blanket fort- take the pillows off the couch, move your kitchen chairs around, take off your sheet if you need to! Make yourself a little oasis, snuggle up, and enjoy the small feelings!

I spy / where's Waldo games- you can play with books, apps, or even just with a friend in real life! I love to play with Star, it puts them in little space almost immediately as they frantically search for "something orange"!

Wear mismatched clothes- I've always believed that matching socks are bad luck in general, but I also think there's something about not having high fashion can help regression tons! Don't worry about the stereotypes of pigtails and overalls, wear those silly leggings and the oversized t-shirt with holes in it! Wear a sock up to your knee and one down to your ankle if that's what feels right! Clothes deserve to be a comfortable reflection of how you feel!

Remember, Littlespace is just like any other mindset. It doesn't matter what you do or don't have, as long as you're enjoying some childlike wonder again. You're just a lil kiddo! That's all it comes down to. Remind yourself that you're valid for healing your inner child and letting yourself enjoy things, you deserve to be a little angel again. Do things just because you want to, just because you're curious, just because it looks good, soft, whatever. Being a kid is learning everything for what feels like the first time no matter how many times you've learned it before. You deserve to experience things for the first time again, to relax, and to heal.

Sending love and always wishing you the best!

Pippi Saturn 💕

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ring-of-galactic · 5 months

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[ As soon as Saturn arrives, Petrel shoves a comically large box into his arms. ]

[ Inside are three outfits. The first one is a white v-neck with a sleeping luxio on it, black skinny jeans, and a dark blue beanie with shinx ears stitched onto the hat. The second is a black t-shirt with the words "pyrotechnic" in bold white letters on it, a pair of black basketball shorts, and a baseball cap with the Sinnohian Sylveons logo on it. The third is a set of yellow striped pajamas, slacks and a button up with matching yellow slippers. It even comes with a night cap! ]

[ Alongside the clothes are several rolled up posters- the entire Sinnoh dex and their numbers, a chart of the solar system, and a band called "Luxio and the Electric Shriekers", which has several people in Luxio-themed outfits. ]

[ .. There's more. A few fidget toys are tossed into the mix. A fidget cube, a star-shaped tough chewlery, a cherri-scented black space slime, and a blue sand timer! ]

[ "I hope you like em' .. ! Proton helped since he got payed yesterd- ack, don't know me!" ]

[Saturn squeaks when the box is shoved into his arms, and he struggles to carry it for a moment, opting to quickly sit down before he topples over entirely. That doesn't deter his excitement at all, however, as he immediately starts digging into the box, his tail quivering with excitement.

He pauses at the sheer volume of everything inside. The poor thing is visibly overwhelmed, sniffling a little, clearly not at all used to receiving this much of anything. Though, it doesn't seem to be in a negative way.

He spends quite a bit of time inspecting absolutely everything, as much as he possibly can, staying quiet and intentive as he does so. When he's done looking over every inch of everything, and carefully setting the groups of items down in their own respective piles... he bursts into tears. The kid shoots up and launches himself at Pestrel, wrapping around him with just about every limb he can, while burying his head into the crook of his neck.

It takes a moment for him to be able to talk, but when he does, he mumbles out repeated "thank you"s and "i love you"s over, and over, and over again, with no end in sight. Maybe it would've been better to wait until after dinner... it doesn't look like Saturn's going anywhere for awhile.]

#saturn posts #rotomblr #asks #in world scene #//WIAUGH #//OUGGJ THEMM FAMBLY #//AAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!#//HES SO HAPPPY AND I AM TOO

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yungvenuz · 9 months

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Game of the Year List 2023

Honorable Mentions: Touhou: Artificial Dream in Arcadia: I love the oddball mashup of shmup and dungeon crawler mechanics, but I ended up losing interest before the end of the game. In Stars and Time: Still playing this game. I like it so far, but I didn't want to rush it through to get it on this list. It'll go on next year's list if I like it enough. Stuffo the Puzzle Bot: Really great soundtrack. Still on regular rotation.

youtube

10. Super Snail (IOS and Android)

This is a difficult inclusion. Super Snail is an Evil game. It's the most monetized game I've ever played. Every screen you can visit can trigger a special offer for a pile of goodies you don't need that you can buy with real money. It's a mobile gacha game, through and through, designed to eat up time and attention and offer back a distant illusion of progress that you could surely expedite, if you were just willing to kick in ten bucks for one of its dozens of customized season passes…. So, why is this game on this list?

Developer QCPlay was already on my radar from previous release Gumball and Dungeons, a similarly high effort mobile game (amusingly originally intended as a Dragon Quest game, until they failed to secure the license and were forced to sand all the iconic teardrops off their slimes and call them gumballs instead). Despite their willingness to indulge in all the awful trends of mobile game markets, these are real, proper game designers, who have buried a real, actual game under all of Super Snail's idle timers and base management bullshit.

Super Snail is constantly shifting, adding new layers of complexity and shaking up existing mechanics. It's the only gacha game I'm aware of in which your gacha machine can be stolen from you temporarily if you use it too much, forcing you to wait on spending tickets until the thief decides its rates are too shit to bother with and returns it to you. There's a dating sim mechanic in which various characters met in your travels (male, female, or both) will find out about your secret base and decide to mooch off you, which is some of the funniest writing in the game.

On that note, the writing is weirdly good for a game that's approximately 80% random pop culture references. The eight demon lords you've been tasked with defeating by the mysterious god "Earth's Will" all have detailed and consistent backstories. There are a few honest-to-god effective twists in the plot, and a lingering question about how shady the god you've signed your life to actually is.

A predatory mobile game shouldn't deserve one minute of my attention, let alone one of the coveted slots on my illustrious top ten list, but Super Snail spits in the face of all that, and god. I can't stop thinking about it, about how many interesting game design lessons are nestled within its strange and evil exterior. So, by compromise, it's grudgingly earned my #10. Just, for god's sake, if any of this backhanded review piques your interest, set a budget for yourself and don't exceed it for any reason.

9. BOSSGAME: The Final Boss is Your Heart (Steam)

BOSSGAME is an action rpg about two dirtbag lesbians, Sophie and Anna, trying to earn rent money by taking random mercenary work in the big city. The story is low pressure fun, with a little melodrama mixed in to spice things up. The plot is needs-suiting, even maybe good, but the reason this game is on the list is the gameplay.

BOSSGAME is really, really fun to play. It uses a combat system reminiscent of the Mario and Luigi rpgs in which both party members are controlled simultaneously. Enemies telegraph attacks that need to be blocked using the left or right side of the gamepad based on character, draining stamina. Attacking also drains stamina, so a careful balance of offense and defense needs to be maintained to survive. Most interestingly, there's no turns: enemies repeat attack patterns usually without waiting for a counterattack, so combat becomes a brain-bending routine of multitasking, with one character needing to block attacks while the other sneaks in some damage. A combo system encourages keeping up constant pressure, with the reward being increased progress toward a super attack that can briefly stun bosses and allow some easy hits before returning to defensive play. The end result is fast paced, engaging, and totally unique combat that was fun to learn for each of the dozens of boss fights in the game.

I'm glad this game ended up being good enough to recommend here, not just because I, too, am lesbian, but because I love designers that are willing to take a chance on unique control schemes. Part of the fun of playing BOSSGAME was getting to learn how to play without being able to rely on any of the muscle memory I've accrued over years of playing other action games. I only wish it weren't so short. Of all the games on this list, this is the one I would most want to see expanded into a full 40-60 hour RPG epic.

8. Slay the Princess (Steam)

A Myers-Briggs test for fetishes. Keep that in mind whenever anybody who tries to talk to you about their favorite "route". Great writing though

7. EDF 5 (Steam)

My official Multiplayer Game Experience of the Year. The EDF (EDF! EDF! EDF!) series is an alien invasion resistance simulator that exists somewhere between Dynasty Warriors and Monster Hunter in gameplay. I've known about the series for a long time, and I had assumed it was the kind of loud dumb fun that makes for punchy clips but wears out its welcome quickly. To be clear, it definitely is loud, and dumb, and fun, but it also has significantly more mechanical depth and complexity than I expected, which kept it fresh and engaging for as long as I played it.

Mechanics like building destruction and corpse hitboxes looks like they're just they're there for spectacle at first, but as levels progress and more and more aggressive enemy types are introduced, these seemingly incidental details take on more and more importance as you need to manage cover and enemy sight lines more effectively. This is the game's most potent tool, I think: everything that makes it great as a ridiculous carnage sandbox has been meticulously designed to also work in the higher difficulty levels to deliver a genuinely tense and highly mobile shooter.

6. Slayers X: Terminal Aftermath: Vengeance of the Slayers (Steam)

A boomer shooter in the same canon as Hypnospace Outlaw, partially developed by troubled teen ZANE_ROCKS_14 and polished up for release 22 years later. For an elaborate shitpost, it's very well made, but what most interests me about it is its contradictory nature. Outwardly, it's completely juvenile and silly about everything it does, filled with poop jokes and mouthy rats and evil stepdads. Underneath that, there's the deep melancholy of a 36 year old desperately trying to relive the last time in his life that he felt cool.

all the levels in the game faithfully recreate scenes of Zane's Idaho childhood, from ritzy suburban neighborhoods to car parks to the local fair, but they're all just a little bit too eerily empty for the settings they're trying to evoke. The protagonist's sincere love for his mother completely clashes with the badass attitude he brings to every other scene. Zane put his all into voice acting the protagonist's lines, while every other character sounds like they're reciting lines into their phone in a bathroom. The end result is a masterpiece in immersive game design, meticulously arranged to feel like it came from a very specific time and place in a fictional alternate universe. It's so effective that even the parts that don't work can be argued as a deliberate part of the overall period piece, like the confusingly short penultimate level or unnecessarily annoying final boss.

5. Cobalt Core (Steam)

A card battler built around spaceship combat. It should be immediately apparent to anybody who's played a lot of Slay-The-Spire-likes that Cobalt Core is on the easier side, but that's a deliberate choice here, in an effort to create an engaging narrative experience rather than a perfectly tuned progression treadmill. While Inscryption (another narrative card battler) managed its story by bringing the player away from the cards for cutscenes or escape room sequences, Cobalt Core delivers everything within its roguelike framework, even going as far as coming up with a time loop justification for why the player is repeating runs to progress the story.

In that regard it compares more closely to Hades than other card battlers, and I also think that's a good comparison because I really like the characters and character interactions in Cobalt Core. Each round starts with the selection of three of the (after finishing a short period of unlocks) 7 crewmates available to play with, and every combination of characters has interesting discussions and interactions between them. Characters also have lines to acknowledge specific artifacts, cards, or game states (like big damage or status effects) that offers a level of reactivity to make each run that much more unique. Also like Hades, there's a concrete ending sequence. Backstory for each crewmate is delivered piecemeal throughout the game, and while there aren't any earthshattering twists or revelations, the ending does a good job of tying everything together for a proper sendoff.

Shoutout to Riggs. Best possum in the galaxy.

!Great Soundtrack Alert!

youtube

4. Going Down (2014 Doom wad) (Doomworld File Depot)

This year, I played MyHouse.wad. More and more people were talking about it, and I wanted to give it a try myself before someone randomly spoiled it for me. I didn't end up caring for it much! It did some interesting things, and it was definitely well made, but I'm not that interested in the creepypasta style it was going for.

It did pique my interest in the rich ecosystem of Doom modding that's been quietly trucking along for 30 years before myhouse ever released, though. A friend recommended Going Down, which I found to be terrific, and then I spent the rest of the year playing random wads (level packs) whenever I didn't have anything else to do. Doom has become invaluable to me as a podcast game, especially as I've only just been able to extract myself from Tactical Nexus's cunning grasp this year.

So, without further ado: The Official Doom Wads of the Year Minilist:

10 Struggle: Antaresian Legacy - Most of the levels in this wad focus on low-pressure exploration, but my favorites were the wide-open chaotic battles. I especially like the capstone levels of the first two chapters (maps 11 and 20), which both feature massive arenas with hundreds of enemies active at once. 9 Ancient Aliens - A collab megawad with great aesthetic and theming. Level quality is inconsistent, which makes sense given how many authors were involved, but the best levels in the wad are excellent. 8 Dust Devil - A short campaign of two interconnected levels with a bunch of interesting custom content. The use of grenade launchers and shielded enemies was especially cool, and not something I expected the doom engine to be able to do. 7 Lullaby - A stylish single-map wad in a decidedly undoomlike blue dreamland. There's only five or so major setpiece encounters, but they're all very memorable. 6 Doom 2 - I love how experimental the design in Doom 2 is, especially given that the entire genre of fps was brand new at this point in history. there's abstract levels, puzzle levels, diagetic cityscapes, and more. It's easy to see its influence in every fps to ever follow in its wake. 5 Overboard - A newer wad by the same author of Going Down with a great gimmick- the first five levels are followed by a set of hard mode remixes that use the same maps with more aggressive enemy arrangements. I particularly liked the last map of hard mode, which is identical to its normal mode variant except that it spawns all 500 enemies in the moment the level starts instead of deploying in piecemeal waves as it does in the original. 4 The Thing You Can't Defeat - An experimental remix of the first chapter of Doom 1. Very interesting premise and punchline. If you liked MyHouse.wad, I'd highly recommend checking it out. 3 Tarnsman's Projectile Hell - This is the first touhou game I've played, technically. Deviously difficult design with an emphasis on long distance hitscan enemies that would be extremely annoying in the hands of a level designer any less obviously talented than Tarnsman. 2 Unloved - An ambitious continuous campaign that takes place in a Silent Hill-esque house with several portals to distorted nightmare realms. I like that small amounts of progress are made in each level at a time with frequent revisits to the main hub, and I love the dark atmosphere. Very creepy. Also insanely difficult. 1 Going Down - My favorite by a long shot. The amount of variety in level and encounter design is incredible on its own, but I particularly like the care that went into giving each level a unique identity that still makes sense in the context of the wad's premise (taking an elevator floor by floor down into the depths of hell). Every level is meticulously designed to use the entire space, usually multiple times as later encounters in each level usually reuse the same arenas with additional twists on the layout and enemy deployments.

3. Pizza Tower (Steam)

A fluid platformer heavily inspired by the Wario Land games. Its most notable design choice is the lack of fail state when exploring levels. There's no health bar, and falling into pits only resets the room, so there's no significant pressure until the timed escape sequence at the end of each level. That's not to say the game lacks challenge, though. Far from it- the challenge comes not from reaching the end of each room, but in doing so as efficiently as possible. Pizza Tower's principle antagonist is the 5 second combo timer in the top right, forcing a constant stream of action. Every level has just enough stuff in each room to allow a single combo to be carried from start to level finish, which confers the coveted P Rank medal on level completion.

Full P Rank completion is what I spent three months obsessively chasing at the start of this year. Movement in Pizza Tower is so fluid, and so satisfying to learn how to fully utilize, that I couldn't resist going for it. I got so far into it that after finishing the game, I went back in immediately for an optional challenge that requires full P rank completion of the game in less than 4 hours, which required being able to clear each level with perfect consistency.

!Great Soundtrack Alert! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NWoTeTZL-C8

2. Beton Brutal (Steam)

The trailer for Beton Brutal immediately spoke to me. I've been a fan of persistent-state platforming games for ages, and it's a sorely underserved genre (mostly lurking in MMOs and player-made levels for games like Mario Maker). I like the emphasis on meditative upward progress, and I especially like the increasing pressure that builds as each subsequent jump risks losing more progress than the previous. Beton Brutal's developer was able to deliver this perfectly while also maintaining a consistent and interesting visual style (a stark contrast to the dreadful nft tie-in climbing game Only Up, which also released this year).

For weeks, I opened Beton Brutal after work and played for thirty minutes to an hour, usually seeing some small amount of new progress before inevitably taking a long fall and rage quitting for the day. I don't think I can call this the hardest game I've ever played, given that there's an entire community of people that can complete the entire climb in less than ten minutes, but I do think I'm uniquely poorly suited for games like this, given the extreme precision required. Still, that made it all the more satisfying to finally complete the game after almost exactly 20 hours of effort.

Three months later the DLC "Beton Bath", with another 500 meter tower with new obstacles, mechanics, and visual aesthetic (themed after public pool equipment, which honestly looks great decorating the tower), released. This dlc had mixed reviews, but it cemented this game as a whole as a favorite for me. The new tower has a very different design approach, with more focus on interpreting strange geometry, seeking out aggressive shortcuts, and taking giant leaps of faith. The last 100 meters particularly impressed me, with numerous falls onto trampolines 80 meters below to stride the entire tower in one jump and reach new ladders, before climbing just a few meters higher and repeating the process back to the opposite side.

trying to settle on which screenshot to include with the entry was agonizing, so I'm going to post a bunch more here. I love how this game looks.

Don't worry about the vertigo meter in the bottom left. It's probably nothing to worry about.

Void Stranger (Steam)

Void Stranger is a tile-based puzzle game featuring a magic wand that can pick tiles up and place them elsewhere. Help the noble handmaiden Gray delve into the 256th floor of the mysterious Void to fulfill her heart's desire, learning more about her past by peeking into her memories as she rests at checkpoints along the way.

…But that's not sufficient to describe it, really. The best way I can come up with to describe what Void Stranger actually is, is as a seemingly normal block-pushing puzzle game that's had an entire additional Myst-like adventure game layered over it. The puzzle game is real, and it can be engaged with honestly from start to finish, but the true fun of the game (and several of its many, many possible endings) comes from interpreting obscure clues in the lore and interface to dive deeper.

The more that's learned, the easier it is to navigate the underlying puzzle game. Almost every object in the game has hidden mechanics related to it, opening up easier routes through initially difficult puzzles or allowing the use of shortcuts to skip floors entirely. Once these tricks are mastered, only thirty or so of the game's 256 floors even need to be visited to complete a run, and most of them can be cleared in seconds.

That's a good thing, too, because there's a lot of travel to specific floors needed to find all the secrets in the game. This is a game that thrives on friction in its play experience, which means it's definitely not going to be a game for everybody. If clues regarding certain shortcuts or secrets are missed, it can add a lot of unnecessary work to completing the game. But I personally love that kind of obscurity in games, and I really appreciate that the developer System Erasure (who made the similarly excellent ZeroRanger) was willing to take a chance on a niche-of-a-niche genre that could really speak to its core demographic: me specifically.

I'm not going to talk much about the plot, because most of it is deeply tangled with the Void Stranger's deepest secrets. That said, I appreciate that every route through the game, even the ones that don't engage with all the secret hunting, have been given fully fledged stories. Even the bad ending has a fucking awesome finale, to the extent that I would recommend seeking it out before engaging with the rest of the game's content (if you get offered a fruit, go ahead and eat it!)

Void Stranger is good enough to make it onto my top ten list of games of all time. I've put it at #6, just behind Iji and just ahead of Full Bore. Everything about it is fucking awesome. Check it out!

!Great Soundtrack Alert!

youtube

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illwilledomen · 2 years

Text

POSTING (and finishing) MY DRAFTS…..

Number one, Nether food!

Hoglin meat - Really good, if you’re a fan of smoked ham like me. A gamey, rich and smokey flavour but may be an acquired taste to some.

Glow stone dust - Why would you try to eat this? It isn’t pleasant. It tastes like hot, chalky rock and you’ll probably cut yourself on the bigger shards. On the bright side your tongue will be very sparkly and luminous. You’re better off using it as a pretty kind of face paint - it’s non-toxic!

Warped fungus - This stuff is going to send you on the worst trip of your life. It’s extremely poisonous so you’ll die after your insane trip.

Crimson fungus - A very umami flavour and isn’t as poisonous as Warped fungi, but still might make you sick if you’re not used to extradimensional food.

Ghast tissue - Too dangerous to harvest, too gross for it to be worth it. The taste is extremely alien and is barely even meat-like. Think of a mix between the texture of shrimp, mushroom and cooked broccoli stalk - Tasty, huh! Not worth the 3rd degree burns and ear damage.

Strider meat - Like ghast, this stuff tastes weird, because Striders are born n’ bred native nether life forms. It’s very rubbery and chewy, however there is a softer area between the breast and the thigh which isn’t tough. Still, it tastes weird, and if you’re not familiar with extra-dimensional flavours, give this one a pass at the dinner table. Also, they’re so derpy and cute - why would you want to eat one?

Soul sand - Prepare for the second worst trip of your life. And by trip I mean you will see the horrors. Souls, when they don’t belong to you, are not good for you. The experience might make you better at conducting magic from the Experience released by the souls, but it’s not worth the horrific hallucinations and permanent brain damage you will experience. It tastes kind of salty, and you may experience extreme emotions such as fear, despair or anger out of nowhere when you eat it.

Magma cream - Texture wise, it’s similar to Slime balls - when raw, a very soft flesh barely held together by a thin membrane, when cooked, rubbery like overcooked shellfish. Tastes weird and pickled though, but it won’t kill you. Over-all though, save this stuff for potions.

Blaze powder - Blood, because your mouth will be nice n’ crispy burnt from the eternal heat of Seraph steel (which is what Blazes are constructed from, it’s a magical type of iron that ancient human mages used!)

#minecraft #mineblr #minecraft headcanons #minecraft lore #my minecraft lore #I think I wanted some ham when I started writing this in like may

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lostonehero · 1 month

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Mechanism fun facts for all my aus

Jonny adores swimming and baths. However, due to his species being desert dwelling and water is scarce, if he did it as much as he likes, he would get sick. It doesn't stop him.

Jonny has a separate room full of sand he has to use to get clean because Aurora won't let him shower or bathe more than once a week.

Marius was terrified when he first saw clear water. The man is used to bathing in toxic waste. His planet is a disaster, and his species grew from that.

Now, some stuff for What Remains after eternity

Oc appearances

Laz, incredibly pale skin, nearly white. His ears are slightly pointed. His eyes are just black empty sockets that constantly leak a black slime like substance. His hair is black and like of looks like fluid if you stare too long. He doesn't remember how old he actually is, so Izzy is the oldest.

Izzy is the oldest on the crew. He has a mechanical eye, mechanical left leg, and right arm. She has bolts in her neck and an antenna. She has metal spines down her back two rows parallel to her actual spine and a long dragon like tail. She has heterochromatic eyes, one yellow and the other a machine nearly identical to Tim's eyes (reasons will be revealed for later)

Tink is the shortest at 3ft 2 inches. She has gray skin long ears, two sets of horns, claws, and talons for feet. She has a pair of wings that she never uses they are like dragonfly wings. She has purple eyes

Aiden is made of stone big tall and looks like a mix of a gargoyle and a beautiful siren had a child. His eyes are red, and his teeth sharp. He has one set of horns and fanned our ears. He has a long devil like tail.

Brian's true form. He is a giant fox like creature. He has two tails and golden fur. His jaw splits four ways and has so many teeth. He has tendrils and random mouths all over his body hidden by his fur. He is a nightmare creature. I cannot stress enough how fucking scary he is. He also has 4 pairs of eyes and two tongues.

I don't know if I made it clear enough that Marius's species the Xeon existed on their planet that was abandoned by colonizers because they made it too toxic literally. The man bathes in nuclear waste and doesn't bat an eye. It rains sulfuric acid.

#the mechanisms #the mechs

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 9 months

Text

A small step towards friendship

Just another Isaac one-shot because my brain once again go brrrrrrrrr

The damn wound on his right palm was still nagging, which made Isaac even angrier. And it would have been all right if he'd been hurt by a corrupt serpent or some other kind of dangerous monster. But slipping on a slime and falling to the ground, where he scraped his hand against a sharp rock... For Isaac, from whose sword few many dangerous creatures in Crimson Baldlans, to receive such an injury that now makes him unable to hold a blade properly for at least three weeks is tantamount to disgrace. It was a good thing no one had seen him in the mines, or it would have been a real shame.

Stepping out of the main entrance to the mines into the fresh air, Isaac only now noticed that it was almost midnight. Huh, time had flown so quickly - it seemed to the adventurer that only half an hour ago, at exactly noon, he had gone inside the Mines to help Marlon reduce the number of slimes and duggies. Normally this would have been done by Farmer, already a well-known Stardew Valley hero and the cause of many rumours in Castle Village. But the one-eyed adventurer said that they had gone into rehab for a few days and were now resting in a hospital bed, healing their wounds.

Isaac would have let the news pass, but he knew very well how and what kind of wounds they had received.

_________________________________________

He'd dragged them on his back, holding them up, keeping them from falling into the sand mixed with mud. No matter how much he swore at Camilla, who had had the idea of showing the inexperienced Farmer the way to Crimson Baldlans, no matter how much he cursed the carelessness and pride of youth who did not heed the advice of their elders, it was no use.

There was a smug smile on the young farmer's bloody face that made it clear to Isaac that they would be back. They'll be back here, stupid kid who doesn't know what it's like to carry the heavy burden of being a defender against monsters. A smug upstart whose ego is fuelled by the same mages and older adventurers talking about their great potential.

What good is that potential that will be lost in this thrice-cursed desert full of black magic and death?

_________________________________________

Isaac didn't immediately notice the life elixir being slipped almost under his nose. Turning his gaze, the adventurer's eyes were immediately squeezed shut by the bright light of the camp lamp.

"Here. It will help you with your wound."

When did their wounds have time to heal so quickly?

"With your recent injuries, you would need this elixir more," Isaac still gratefully accepted the glass bottle from the Farmer's hands and took a couple of sips. Within half a minute, the pain on his right palm was gone, and in place of the cut was a thin pink line, a healed wound.

"No need to worry anymore," still with the same smug smile, they stood next to Isaac, enjoying the night's autumn silence. "Besides, I didn't have time to thank you properly."

Isaac only hummed and took a couple more sips of the elixir, feeling the essence permeate his body and heal all the small wounds and scratches.

For the two of them, such a moment is a very convenient occasion to talk about each other, about honour, about amazing adventures. But the two adventurers - one experienced and cautious, the other young and determined - decided to enjoy the silence without further unnecessary chatter.

#another Isaac one-shot when i accidentally deleted it #so let's call it 2.0 #heh #sve isaac #sve #stardew valley expanded #goddamit i was so pissed when i deleted my draft

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petrichor-reminiscence · 5 months

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more restoration thots

so, this is me just copy-pasting my original notes i was taking while watching, and i took them on my phone so uh apologies for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors lol ^^; i cleaned it up the best i could but if i missed anything uh no i didn't

note below the cut, spoilers!

the retro convention opening is WILD lmao, keepsake coozie

lmao box canyon bozos 8 love that

this convention is so funny

typing on my phone im dying

all mysteriously disappeared

???

undisclosed oooooooh lmao

Dylan Andrews hasn't met the reds and blues, confirmed retcon then?

KAIIIII

WOOOOOOO

her intro music? iconic

oh shit

"you bitches are on your own"

"epic" LMAO

OMFG IS THAT LOCUS

NO ITS META

OH FUCK

FUCK FUCK FUCK

IM DYING KFKGKKGKGK

why does this intro feel like a marvel movie

THE REDSSSSS

WOOOOO

WHERE IS DONUT

WHERE IS LOPEZ

SCREAMING

"that's me hi I'm grif"

IN CHARGE OF AMMO LETS GO HAHAHA

"I'm morally opposed to counting"

"I think counting is a gateway drug to mathematics" LMAOO

THE BACKWARDS ONE HAHAHAHAHA PHENOMENAL WAY TO SAY DIVISION

DND REFERENCE

"why are we even here"

WHERE ARE THEY

GRIF STOP GETTING META I WILL CRY

he'll have Lopez do the inventory BUT WHERE IS LOPEZ

BLUE BASE?!?!

SHEILA SOUNDS WRONG

so does caboose, but that's a given

I've gotta gonna stomach it jfjgkgkg

Lopez also sounds wrong

CABOOSE CAN SPEAK SPANISH?!?!

W H A T

HAH can only speak but not understand that is so caboose

okay Sheila is starting to sound a bit more normal

oh fuck is the light epsilons message?!

IT IS THEY PULLED A STARWARS

OH SHIT

OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT

LOPEZ SPEAKING IN ENGLISH WITH THE SPANISH SUBTITLES

IM DYING HOLY SHIT

is this after thirteen or seventeen? I'm thinking thirteen because Dylan hasn't met them but I can't fucking tell quite yet

unsc military hospital?!?!

IS THIS WHERE WASH IS

OMFG IT IS HE HAS A KITTY ON THE NIGHTSTAND

DOC

he's in pt bitch what happened

screaming

kfmgkkglgmf

"I think I've earned my issues with authority"

DOC KNOWS ABOUT HIS IMPLANTATION TROUBLES NOW?!

he doesn't remember a lot of that??

I'm screaming omfg

someone else's memories? man wash is goin through it

WASNT MUCH OVERLAP IN THEIR PERSONALITIES?!?!? SCREAMING

doc and omega are similar

wash DID feel everything alpha felt confirmed

where tf is tucker

shipyard?

WHOM

is this locus give me locus

NO ITS META TUCKER

theta sounds like apple bloom lmao

tucker is flashing?!?!

SIGMA SHUT

omfg poor tucker I'm gonna start fucjing crying

w h a t

omfg the ship charons ship

Simmons is in charge of zingers

Simmons stop saying sick burn ill cry

caboose sounds so wrong but I'll still have to suck it uppppp

tucker been missing for months again JDJKGKG

everything feels so off im gonna cry

why is grif so aggressive rn?!

oh shit here comes sheila lmao

grif holy shit what is WRONG with you right now?

the music is so evil omfg

CHURCH

he's still dead

lmao I love him

so the rest of the seasons WERE simulations!! gotcha gotcha retcon confirmed

Simmons oh my god you are going crazy

wait no wonder everything feels off

they've been going insane by themselves after everything at chorus ofc they'd act differently

"did you tell ALL the simulations they're real?" "... no?"

"I can't predict how to communicate with caboose" I love this

HAHA HIS WEIRD BRAIN I LOVE THAT

he's literally pyroland tbh

he's so off but I still love him

animated infographic LMAO

there better be fucking sand cutting or slime videos to the side lol

"I hope there's ads!"

OMFG DAVID CAMP CAMP CAMEO

lmao ofc sarge is in a political echochamber lmao

LMAO HE MADE A META JUMPSCARE CHURCH THAT WAS SO UNECESSARY I LOVE YOU

he added a bow-chicka-bow-wow for tucker

aw tucker :(

the visuals omfg

CRYING BABY NOISES IM KFKGKG

CHURCH ON A THERAPY COUCH

LMAO THE DIRECTOR IS THE THERAPIST

"I'm taking full accountability for holding someone else accountable"

oh shit tucker was the great destroyer! holy fuck!

destined to destroy their enemies, the humans

oh shit felix

he's a mix of fucking EVERYONE?!

even felix?

HOW DOES THAT MAKE SENSE?!

lmao real tucker was the best soldier

he sells tshirts

fuck he withheld the epsilon fragment uh oh

uh oh potential alpha that's unpredictable and terrifying

lol the reds are gonna say no aren't they

this whole epic build up with the help us question? they're gonna say no

HAHA THEY JUST LEFT CALLED IT

LMAO

jesus grif be nice to caboose im gonna have to smack him

simmonssss cmonnnn

caboose noooooo

my heart is breaking rn

oh fuck meta tucker

HES BACK ON THE SHIP

the echo of tuckers actual voice im screaming

oh shit gammas time deception shit noo dont torture my boy

sigmaaaa you are so evil you bastard

oh shit omega

TUCKERS ECHO IM SCREAMING

I can't tell if sigma is actually elijah or not rn

oH shit ten years of torture??

NOOO!!

TUCKER NOOOOOOO

HIS SCREAMING IM GONNA DIE

oh fuck

i'm kfkgkfllskdogo this is more heartbreaking than i expected

YAY WASH TIME

the fucjing recording in the hospital i hate this

this feels like a containment situation not an actual hospital

DR GRAY

oh fuck them treating him like he's crazy

no I'm gonna

gray I will have to fight you

ADMIRAL DONUT?!?!

DOC YOU TOO?!

screaming

CALLING HIM DAVID OH SHIT

gray I wanna hit you

oh poor wash this fucking gaslighting I'm idkgkvkv

oh my god they need to get him out of there wtf

they're treating him like a crazy dementia patient

omfg there they go

there goes the reds in the warthog aka puma

omfg sarge shooting him while talking to him kdkgkvk

479er!!!

SC REAMING

cant tell if its her same va but at this point that's to be expected

omfg epsilon never liked her lol

haha serial killer caboose

THE SLOW TURN CABOOSE AHAHAHA

omfg they are going back to hargroves ship

oh shit they're going for the recovery unit!

his random shut up caboose moments lmao

uh oh pure stealth

lmao immediately abandoning it just like i expected

lmao sarge talking about blasting through everything for eight minutes

lmao even epsilons fragment memory message shit is sleeping haha

dammit sarge

omfg caboose still has his confetti gun

WHERE IS FRECKLES GIVE ME FRECKLES

caboose yelling pew pew omfg and him and sarge back to back im loving this

there's no one in the room

CABOOSE WINS THE PARADE

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA

lmao command went to zoom LOL

THEM COMING IN THE ZOOM WITH THE FUCKING GREENSCREEN BACKROINDS AND POUNTING WEAPONS LMAOOO

THE CAT FILTER AHAHAHA

he muted himself

screaming omfg

SOMEONE SAID CHAT

HOLY SHIT

oh shit they're in the main room

grif better find the gridshit

*grifshit

fuck

whatever you get the idea

oh fuck the metas armor TUCKERS THERE

OH FUCK

they're so dumb

they're so fucking dumb

"we're so fucking dumb" EXACTLY WHAT I SAUD

SARGE SAID MONKEYING ABOUT AHAHAHA

oh fuck

chrome dome lmao

oh fuck they're getting their asses kicked

church's late warning lmao

LMAO HES BEATING THEM WITH THE HEALTH KITS

OH FUCK

aw simmons standing in front of caboose trying to talk to tucker

im gonna cry

I'm gonna fucking cey

I fucking jfjgkkgkvb

stop stop stop it stop it

simmons is just making him mad by talking about how shitty blue team i'm fuckin oasigjsdaoigj

NO NOT CABOS

OH FUCJ

NO NO NO NO

I swear to god

THE REDS FUCKIN LEFT

or well they tactically advanced

tucker coming through at intervals

"dont feel bad afterwords I forgive you" FUCK

TUCKER LETTING HIM RUN OFLGKBKH

IM GONNA CRY

did sarge go to save caboose?!

OH ,my GOD

NO NO NO

TUCKER META IS MAKING ME WANNA DIE

SARGE HUZZAH

FUCK YEAH SARGE LETS GO

OH SHIT HE WAS BADASS FOR A MOMENT UNTIL HE RAN OUT OF AMMO

OH FUCK HES BADASS RIGHT NOW

sarge is killing these one liners holy shit

OH FUCK THE SWORD

SARGE JUST GOT STABBED

NO NO NO NO NO NO

NONONONONONONO

FUCK OFF THAT ONE TUMBLR USER WAS RIGHT IM SO PISSED

OH FUCK DID THEY REALLY KILL HIM

FUCK

him holding simmons arm im kfkgkgk

grif on the verge of tears with his voice cracking nooooo

HES TALKING TO THEM LIKE THEYRE HIS SONS

HE SALUTED SARGE

HES GIVING SIMMONS HIS SHOTGUN

HE TOLD HIM HES PROUD OF HIM

"grif?" "I'm here sarge" like INSTANTLY

GRIF AND SRGES MOMENT

SARGE BELIEVED IN HIM

FUCK

NO THIS HURTS

"remember that for me" OH FUCK OFF NO

HES GONE I CANT I CANT I CANT I CANT

okay back to wash

let this man free ffs

doc with a medical mask as a disguise

omfg doc busting him out

BLOOD GULCH

THEY BURIED HIM IN BLOOD GULCH

this time they had to actually bury him for realsies

aw he's got a button for vaguely southern insults

them talking about sarge I'm gonna aklglgkhkb

aw he the official leader and his first decision is??

he's discharging grif

OH MY GOD HES SETTING HIM FREE

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

"come with me" !!!

NFKLGLGKGKGKG

they're together they love each other and they need to make out right now

omfg

simmons is gonna stay and help as a good leader

I love him so much OH my god

WHY ARE WE HERE KFKFKVKG

grif please don't leave please

OMFG YAY

FOR OLD TIMES SAKE

SARGE WOULDVE WANTED IT

he never gave up on grif im gonna cry

I'm already crying what am I saying

GRIF SALUTED SARGES GRAVE KDKFKKF

omfg is church gonna get his body back??

I KNEWIT

CABOOSE WAS GONNA DO HIS THING

I KNEW IT FROM THE MOMENT HE GRABBED THE OTHER MEMORY UNIT THING

HES GONNA TELL CABOOSE HOW TO BRING HIM BACK

we lost one leader in 13, then got one back kinda with his messages, then lost one AGAIN, then maybe gaining another one

omfg them trying to tell him they can't bring him back

him repeating memory is the key im fkkgkvf I'm screaming

aw their memories of blood gulch

them sitting there reminiscing on old memories I'm gonna fucjing cry

THE MUSIC DOESNT HELP FUCK OFF

FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF

they're all laughing and reminiscing I'm gonna jfkgkkgkg

omfg the memory unit glowing

THE FLASHBACKS I CANT

the three worst soldiers ever

it's so true though, they are The Worst and I love them so much

oh fuck metas here

oh no

HE HAS THE GRIFSHOT WOOOO

"ready?" "no simmons I am not" about sums it up

simmons fumbling with the shotgun

them charging so slowly with like no motivation omfg it hurts

DOC AND WASH JFKGOGOKGG

oh fuck wash is gonna do something stupid

lmao I love them

OH FUCK WASH

OMFG

"one last story to tell"

omfg he's telling the story about church and tex

kfkgolglglgkvk about og leonard and allison

I can't

"one last adventure grif"

i'm screaming

they're all gonna die aren't they

oh fuck meta is kicking their asses

please church or anyone come back im kfkglg

istg are they gonna kill off everyone except for church?? reverse season 13?

oh fuck there goes diamond arm

*simmons

caboose telling the whole story of church and alpha and the whole lineage is fucking beating me up

the memory shit

CABOOSE SHUT UP IM GONNA DIE

the best memories never die"

CHUR CH OMFG CHURCH????

[7:54 AM]CHURCH CHURCH CHURC H CHURCH?!

lmao grif calling him sir

SIMMONS A CC EPTING HIS LEADER ROLE

FUCK

someone stepped on him, meta?

oh fuck is meta

OH FUCK

omfg Simmons is being a badass

"cmon you dirty blue"

FUCK SIMMONS IS BADASS TN IM KFKKGKV

why is he showing off

OH ITS CUZ HIS ROBOT ARM BROKE HAHA

reminding me of why he was my literal first fictional crush- i mean what who said that

THE SHOTGUN NOOOOOO

WASH SHOW UP RIGHT NOW

WASH COME ON

OMFG CABOOSE

he got thrown?

THEJEEP?!

WHO THREWW THE JEEP

WHO TF THREW THE JEEP

CHURH OR WASH MAYBE

UH OH

TEX?!?!?!

TEX!!!!!!

TEX!!!

TEX IS BACK TEX IW BACK TEX IS BACK

HER IN CHURCHS BODY IM

HEYRE FIGHTING OMFG

jsjfkgkJGKVKVKKGKG

:because I wanted to win" I LOVE HIM

he brought back tex ON PURPOSE

OMFG THEYRE GONNA HELP

ope there they go, so helpful

fucking wash you're a dumbaaa

oh fuck recovery beacon?!

Oh FUCK

LMAO

wash is a dumbass he broke his leg

oh fuck what did he do

wash what did you do

NO HE PULLED A SEASON 8 TEX ON HER

HE BROKE HER BACK LIKE SHE DID TO META IN 8 NOOO

NOOOO

TEX NOOOOO

OMFG THE DROP POD MAINES DROP POD

MAINES DROP POD WHO IS IN IT

CAROLINA!!!!

CAROLINA SHES HERE SHES HERE

YES I MISSED YOU

"she's tex jr" LMAO

CMON LINA THE DEATH BATTLE PREDICTED YOUR WIN COME ON

at least I think she won the death battle vs meta ^^;

TEX!!!

OMFG SHES GONNA GO THROUGH THE PORTAL AND TURN BLACK

OMFG MOTHER AND DAUGHTER REUNITING

THE MUSIC HER MUSIC

JRJFJ B B JGKGI

"she's back in black... stuff" ICONIC

HOLY FUCK

KICK HIS ASS GIRLS!!!!!

THE MUSIC FOR ROUND ONE BULLFIGHT LETS GOOO

FUCK

omfg caboose wtf are you doing

caboose

holy shit

caboose what the fuck

I love him

oh shit

the wall is crumbling

oh fucl

oh fuck blood gulch is breaking

this is symbolic somehow to me but my brain is dead too MUCH

"not my fault, someone put a wall in my way" YES ICONIC YES WOOO

THERE GOES THE SWORD

FUCK

LINA NO

TEX FUCK YES FUCK HIM UP

Istg if they make washilina canon im killing myself

oh fuck tex!

NO!!!

I'm sad now

FUCK NO HE HAS HIS GUN META HAS TAKEN BACK THE GRIFSHOT

NO HE STABBED HER

SHIT

SIGMA HOLY SHIT

SHES IN A ROBOT BODY THO SO MAYBE SHE'LL BE OKAY???

stop calling her a shadow :( I'll cry

LITERALLY SEASON 8 REFLECTIONS HOLY SHIT

DAYUM SIGMAS CHEEKS

are they gonna use the car again

holy shit she's based on caboose and the rest of em

YES SHE ALWAYS KICKED THEIR ASSES

YES TEX LETS GO

SOME T ING SOMETHING ABOUT OTHERS MEMORIES INSTEAD OF DIRRCTORS SDAJGOIASDJ SCREAMING

HAHA SHE GOT HIS NUTS AND ITS NOT GRIF FOR ONCE LOL

LETS GO

"like some kind of ball? from sports?"

SARGE IS BACK LIKE MUFASSA

DONUT IS BACK IN A CHEERLEADER OUTFIT

YEAH

WOOOO

"that was the best throw... ever. of all time." SCREAMING

FUCK YEAH THAT NERD HAS A REALLY GOOD ARM

TEX GET HIM PLEASE

she got him!!!

[8:06 AM]OH ,fuck

THETA NO MY HEART HURTS :(

HAHA SIGMA FUCK YOU CRY ABOUT IT

TEX NOOOOOO!!!!

I mean she had to go too ig

CHURCH?

tex!!

OMFG HIM AND TEX HIM AND TEX

THEYRE TOGETHER AGAIN FINALLY

THEYRE TOGETHER AGAIN THEYRE TOGETHER AGAIN

THEM WALKING OFF IOSADJGOASDJG

LEANORD AND ALLISON FJVKGKKVKBKVKVLGPPFOG

TUCKER PLEASE BE OKAY OH MY GOD

HES OKAY THANK GOD

OH MY GOD

FUCK YEAH

they're back home:) I'm crying

"ow-sicka-ow-ow

Simmons I love you

Simmons I love you so much

but tucker is right dont ever do that agai

lmao kept asking if there were hot nurses I love you tucker

aw them reminiscing about tex and carolina handling it well!

CABOOSE DESTROYED IT

THERE THEY GO

ITS OVER

SHE SAID GOODBYE TO TEX

HE SAID GOODBYE TO CHURCH

IM HURTING

it's over Lina is right

"the right part is the part that is the sad part"

me too buddy

lol wash breaking his leg, dumbass

doc being an actual medic? lets go lets go

OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK

HES BEEN IMAGINING DOC THIS WHOLE TIME?!?!?!

FUCK

HOLY FUCK

OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

"is the floating eye in the room with us right now wash?"

OH SHIT WAIT

NORTH!!!!!

YORK!!!!

FLORIDA FLOWERS!!!1

CT!!!

MAINE!!!!!

I'm screaming I'm actually screaming

omfg it was all Carolina talking

her and wash having the sweetest moment

if they kiss I'm killing myself

"am I gonna be okay?"OIASJGIOSDJGIOSDAJGOIAS STOP BEING ME AGENT WASHINGTON

MY HEART BREAKS FOR HIM OASIDJGSDA

"were gonna be it together" they better be siblings or I'm killing myself

oh shit it's 9er!!!

OMFG ITS ONE LMAO

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA AND THE FUCKIN MUSIC TOO

lol ofc had an entire room full of shotguns

grif is gone now? :(

he's leaving I cant my heart hurts

omfg there they are

"hey Simmons"

"yeah?"

"did you ever figure it out?"

SCREAMING

GRIF YOURE GONNA MAKE ME CRY

FUCJ GRIF IS REALLY LEAVING

THERE HE GOES

FUCK THIS HURTS

MY HEARTBHURTS

lmao caboose screaming at him

"beat it!"

lmao I love them

he's apologizing for the shitty war lmao

HAHA THEY WERENT GOOD CABOOSE YOURE RIGHT

that's it

it's over

everything hurts

it WAS og sheila!! i wonder why she sounded so off to me

META WAS MILES LETS GOOOO good for hm!

the pictures of their old stuff too

I'm so fucjijg

jfjgkkg

ouchies

like can you not

SECRET ENDING AYO?!

"bow-chicka-bye-now!" TUCKER IM GOING TO KMS

(after a good sob-sesh lol)

now that i am semi-alive and semi-coherent, here are some (potentially) rational thoughts and feelings

wash's ptsd? FUCK dude. doc being a hallucination the whole fucking time?! FUCK dude. i, that hurt me so much, i'm fucking OWIES. as a ptsd-having bitch myself, uh, hey OUCH. carolina reminding him that the memories will live on, that it wasn't his fault, and it all manifesting in the old freelancers i'm gonna oijdgoidasjg i'm gonna kms i swear to god i swear to gOD this is it this is the last fucking straw

and SARGE

fucking SARGE

that was fucking awful

i loved it and i wanna kms

the way he died sacrificing himself for a fucking blue

the way he told simmons he was proud of him, told grif he never gave up on him even when grif himself had given up, giving SIMMONS HIS SHOTGUN.

man.

them burying him at blood gulch, simmons becoming team leader and having a badass moment only to be instantly cut down by the meta is both so silly and so fucking aosidgjdsoaigjd hhhhh

badass simmons supremacy

missing season 15 knife simmons right about now :((

and the fucking GRIMMONS

FUCK DUDE

simmons finally getting everything ready and in order for grif to be free

if you love something set them free or whatever

FUCK DUDE MY HEART HURTS SO MUCH

and the new va for caboose was trying his damndest and i'm so proud of him

and caboose bringing back TEX INSTEAD OF CHURCH BECAUSE HE KNEW THEY'D NEED HER?! AND TEX BEING RESURRECTED IN THE MEMORIES OF THE ONES WHO SAW HER AS BADASS INSTEAD OF A FAILURE?1 CHURCH AND TEX FINALLY GETTING THEIR HAPPY FUCKIGN ENDING?!!??!?!?!

thank you burnie for that one at least

you did angry mom and angry dad a service

tex just being forgotten, being fucked over, that was never satisfying to me, it always just hurt so much, i'm so glad they got the ending they deserved

i'm screaming

i'm gonna fucking cry

AND SO MANY FUCKING CALLBACKS TO SEASON 8, CUZ LIKE AFTER THAT I'M PRETTY SURE THAT'S WHEN BURNIE WASN'T WRITING IN THE FRONT SEAT ANYMORE

I'M ACTUALLY GONNA FUCKING OIADSJGOISDAJG

and poor wash, no wonder i felt so fucking sick to my stomach watching all of the scenes with him, just, the ptsd and everything like that FUCK dude

he just like me fr man :(

and can we talk about ADMIRAL DONUT?!

FUCKING ADMIRAL?! DONUT LET'S GO YOU'RE THE FUCKING BEST

and him appearing to simmons in his mind in a cheerleader fit was fucking phenomenal 10/10

everything feels so empty right now

fuck nothing has made me wonder 'why are we here?' more than this moment right now

my dread is gone, it's all over, we've reached the conclusion and i've seen it and i don't have to wait anxiously anymore

but everything hurts right now man :(

and the ending with wash and lina i genuinely could not tell if they were pushing romance or not

i think they were purposefully keeping it vague to keep shippers from going haywire, or maybe it was really just platonic sibling 'i'll be there for you' love

they are the siblings ever. of all time.

AND SIMMONS HAVING A DAMN GOOD THROWING ARM?! HELLO?!

WASHINGTON SAYING THAT WAS THE BEST THROW EVER OF ALL TIME?!

CABOOSE SYAING NOT MY FAULT SOMEONE PUT A WALL IN MY WAY?!

i'm

this is too much

idk i want him to sleep but i am so unwell right now i fucking dioajgoidsjgiodsjg

but tex and church got their ending and i'm gonna try to focus on that

plus, it's fictional, we can write all the fix-its or aus we want

i need to remember that

it's impactful to me, it's been my whole fucking life basically, but it's a story and i don't want to let myself suffer genuine consequences from stressing out over a story

it'll be okay

church and tex got their happy ending it HAS to be okay

aaaaand these were my brain-rot notes! lmao hope any of y'all enjoyed reading my reactions here to some scenes haha

#rem rambles #red vs blue #rvb #rvb 19 spoilers #rvb restoration spoilers #rvb 19 #rvb restoration #my thoughts and notes while watching the final season #followed up by some more coherent thoughts at the end lol #also sorry to any of you carwash enjoyers but i just hate that ship so much #genuinely couldn't even tell you why #they're just so sibling-coded to me man i can't see a romance with them it just doesn't feel right to me lol #anyways uh yeehaw here's my brain vomit

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saltnpepperbunny · 1 year

Text

Till World’s End- 8: Three Days Remain

PREVIOUS: Four Days Remain > NEXT: Two Days Remain >

COVER

Till World’s End is rated Mature. Viewer discretion advised. Content Warnings listed on the Cover.

* * *

Selkie’s flippered tail swished behind her as she paced the stretch of beach on the northern shore of Umbra Isle. Navy blue smears streaked across the sky, dusted with last remaining stars. Selkie had watched the stars move all throughout the night. She could see the beginning wisps of pink and soft baby blue on the other side of the jungle canopy, where the sun would rise to the southeast. Another dawn. Another day. Another twenty-four hours of cursed existence.

Selkie stared out to the water, the shadowed horizon before her. If she waded into the surf and swam straight on for many hours, she would reach Spectrum Island. The isle she wasted years of her life on, climbing rank in a Guild that would cease to be in three days. She chewed through her lip until blood dribbled between her teeth. Stupid. Stupid, stupid. Why had she expended so much pointless effort? She made Outlaw Capture Team Tempest and had nothing to show for it! No badges, no rank, not even a damn teammate!

So many years spent grinding her life to sand for a team, and here she was, in the end, alone.

The deal was sealed. The threat was neutralized. The pathetic little scrap of a human was dead. Lyn’s allies were powerless, and no one else knew the truth. Nothing would impede her happy ending now. Logically, Shadow should have been happy, right? And logically, if she herself could not feel happy, she instead at least should have felt the hollow ring of victory, welcome reprieve from her boredom, the spark of blessed excitement that came with overcoming a challenge. So, why? He was supposed to be the only one who could ever understand. So, why did he not understand? Why did he look at her with alien eyes of horror, the eyes of the Others who had never understood?

Why did her victory sting like defeat?

For Lyn, she felt nothing. He earned his death, quicker than he deserved, and Selkie refused to look back on it in regret. But she could not shake her frustration over what she could not take back. She had been called many things, called herself many more. She didn’t mind being a killer. But a murderer was never who she wanted to become.

Shuffling amongst the tide pools, Selkie came to the edge of a puddle and looked within. A popplio face stared back at her, freckled snout and murky brown eyes… Those were her eyes, no? Her popplio form had never felt like her, but then again, neither had her human form. Selkie tended to avoid mirrors; they reminded her she had a body, a physical existence in the physical world that could subject her to others’ abuse. It was a liability to exist. It was a form of powerlessness. And when Selkie looked into her own eyes… sunken, glasslike, vacant, tired… she knew she was ready to shed that powerlessness for good.

The sharp stench of rot touched her nose. Selkie lifted her head from the pool to locate the source. She shuffled amongst the rocks, dragging her flippered tail behind her, and came around a bend to find the bloated corpse of a buneary low in the surf. Where it came from on a deserted island was beyond Selkie; the tide must have washed it in and abandoned it here. Mud and wet sand caked its gray fur. Bacteria had already begun to eat away at the flesh. Selkie crept towards the body, face-down in the sand, and turned it over with her flipper. After shaking the slime of decay off her claws, she hovered over to look into the face of the corpse only to find empty sockets where its eyes should have been. Already devoured.

The world faded out like TV static as Selkie stared into the empty black pits of its face. Oh, the familiarity. It… had been a buneary, hadn’t it? In the garden all those years ago? Within the stench of the rot mixed the pungent odor of mowed grass and wildflowers. Flying-type pokemon chirped overhead as she stared deep into that buneary’s empty sockets. She remembered a different form of smallness.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud…

She listened quietly to the footprints crunching soft against the grass, and without turning around Selkie felt her father kneel down behind her. She heard so close the soft rustle of his bending jeans. His cool breath jostled the knotted fur of her back. Selkie’s breath hitched, but from those dark pits she could not pull away. She fixed her gaze, focused deeply, as if by ignoring the presence behind her, she could will it to evaporate.

“Hey, girl.”

Selkie let out a soft, shaking gasp.

She continued not to move but felt the shuffling and shifting of Dad getting comfortable behind her. Don’t turn around. If she didn’t turn around, maybe she could continue to pretend it was nothing but her imagination. Like the purrloin in the poisoned box, so long as she didn’t look, he could exist behind her in a state between existence and nonexistence. To turn around now would make him real. Please, she didn’t want him to be real.

But Dad continued to speak, his voice soft as a psalm behind her. “So… You do that?”

Selkie started to shake. She swallowed the phlegmy spit in her throat. Covered her face with her hands. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

“No.”

“What’s that pokemon doing there, then? That’s one of Lopunny’s new kits, isn’t it? I saw one was missing. You take it?”

“No.”

She swallowed her scream as a fist grabbed her and yanked her around, and Selkie’s eyes shot up to meet the murky brown gaze of her father. The features of his face, long gone at this point, but she saw the familiar flash of blonde curls, the scruff of his shaved chin, those murky eyes aglow with an anger held back only by a shaking fist. His gripped her sleeve so tight she feared her arm would break off.

“What’d I tell you? Don’t ever lie to me, girl,” Dad snarled. “Is that Lopunny’s kit? Did you take one of my hatchlings or not? ANSWER ME!”

“FINE, I DID!” Selkie wrenched her tiny arm out of his grip. She hated when he touched her! “I was just playing with it! I wasn’t trying to break it, but now it doesn’t work! AUGH!” She jumped to her feet and reeled her foot back to kick the damn stupid buneary as far as it would fly, but Dad grabbed her again by the arm. She whipped around and screamed, “STOP PULLING ME! IT HURTS!”

“You damn stupid girl! Those hatchlings are the only paycheck we’re getting for the next month! You wanna starve? You like going without no breakfast or dinner?” When Selkie shook her head furiously, Dad continued, “Then don’t kill the damn buneary! They’re purebred for Giratina’s sake, they’re valuable!”

“I DON’T CARE!” Selkie screamed. When Dad reeled back his fist, she grabbed her face in her arms and braced…

But the impact never came.

Selkie peered through the gaps between her fingers to see Dad staring at his own shaking fist. His eyes bulged from rage, and he hissed and growled as she watched him fight with himself, the war waged behind his eyes. But then he lowered his fist and released the tension with a popping sigh. She was safe.

“You’re a fucking irritating kid, y’know that? You know how hard it is not to smack you all the time? But that’s not what I…” Dad trailed off. He pushed back his curls and wiped the sweat off his brow, and then crouched lower and stared hard at the dead buneary. “Let me give you some advice, girl. Don’t ever let them catch you killing things.”

Selkie blinked at him. “Huh?”

“Mean what I said,” Dad reiterated. When Selkie kept staring at him, he continued, “You know who I mean. The people who aren’t us. Folks like your mom or the neighbors. I don’t give a shit what you do, but they do. Don’t give them the power of showing them what you really are.”

“What am I?” Selkie asked.

“Different.” Dad got to his feet. His gargantuan form towered high over her head. Giant, where she was miniscule. Something, where she was nothing. “Never let them make you their example. Never, ever give up your power.”

And then he walked away. Selkie alone, once again, with the pokemon she killed. Back then, even after Dad left, she couldn’t fully comprehend what she’d done to upset him so. Dad was always in the shed behind the house, fussing around with the pokemon he kept there, especially now that his stupid lopunny made all those baby buneary. She hadn’t been trying to break the buneary she snatched from the nest. She just wanted to figure out what about it was so interesting that Dad spent all his time messing around with them instead playing with her. She rubbed her arm, bruised from the power of his grip.

What did he mean when he said that she was different?

The answer to the question wasn’t something Selkie ever figured out all at once. There was no spark of a moment when it suddenly all made sense. The nature of his words, of her difference, dawned on her over time, understanding trickling in slowly like the tide over the years. The first thing she ever understood about it was that her father shared her ilk, two members of the same species, allies in a world of alien beings. She found this understanding in the freedom of those moments when she and Dad would leave the supermarket giddy over their haul, thick coat pockets stuffed with boxes of instant ramen and frozen ravioli, dish soap and laundry detergent, cigarettes for Mom and caramel squares for Selkie.

Though they didn’t always get along, Dad was the only one who had ever been able to control Selkie. He was the only person she could look back on and understand that he’d held her respect. She could defy him, but they could also stand up and defy the world together, and Selkie relished in the power of walking alongside an adult who didn’t give two fucks about the rules. She skipped at his heel as they walked the streets with boxes of baby buneary, lived for the thrill of dodging police cars as they sold the hatchlings for thousands of poke a pop. It was their father-daughter business, Dad would say. Though tourists fell for it ever time when Selkie held up the box of baby animals and arranged her facial features into the picture of wide-eyed adorability, the real reward was Dad’s thumbs-up as he hovered behind the customers. Then at the end of each night, if Selkie made enough that day, Dad would buy her two pineapple slices at Uncle Plusle’s Pizza and Deli, and he’d count the earnings two times, then three times as Selkie chugged her Pepsi.

Then they’d come home to Mom.

The face of Selkie’s mother, like Dad’s, had faded from her memory like an old photo bleached by the sun. She remembered hair as black as night and a deep brown face mottled with old acne scars, evidence of a youth only recently left behind. Her mother always seemed like such a child to Selkie. The way she’d pout when she and Dad walked back in the front door with empty cardboard boxes and wads of cash. Then Selkie would scurry up to her room as the shouting started.

“Why are you taking her on the street all the time?! Don’t you see she’s gonna turn out like you?! Clean up your damn act!”

Selkie usually ignored the fights. Except for the one time, when she darted back downstairs, grabbed Mom by her curls, and yanked with all her strength, cutting the fight off as her mother shrieked in surprised pain. Mom smacked her aside and screamed, “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?! YOU HORRIBLE CHILD!”

“STOP YELLING AT DAD!” Selkie screamed back. She clutched at her bruised cheek but refused to be rendered powerless. “We’re out there making money while you just sit around smoking all day! Who do you think’s buying your packs?!”

Cheeks smeared with tears and cheap mascara, Mom whirled on Dad, who stood silent with shaking fists. “YOU’RE TURNING HER AGAINST ME! YOU’RE A MONSTER! YOU BROKE MY DAUGHTER!”

“GROW UP ALREADY!” Selkie screeched. “YOU’RE JUST A BAD MOM! I’M NOT BROKEN!”

No. No, for certain, Mom was not one of them. She was a liability, a sink in their resources. After every outing, a cut of their funds went to feeding the woman, buying her mountains of cigarette packs that were gone the next night. But it didn’t matter. Dad had few rules. By the time Selkie was six, she could stay out on the streets and come wandering back in the wee hours of the morning. Sometimes she brought back cigarettes for Mom and Dad. Other times, her pockets overflowed with coin or candy from Arceus-knows-where. Dad, who often pulled all-nighters staring into the faint glow of the TV in the den, would simply nod to her as Selkie came in, and that was it. Mom never bothered to speak up out of concern for the risk that Selkie would kick her in the shin or yank her hair if she protested.

And in the daylight hours, it was back to selling buneary on the streets, kits from the lopunny who lived in the back shed, a remnant of Dad’s glory days gone by. He had other pokemon in there, and sometimes, Dad would bring them out from their dusty pokeballs, and Selkie would roughhouse in the yard with beasts evolved two or three times. She remembered a hulking aggron and a hydreigon with a soul-sucking glare. But her favorites were his water-types, a greninja missing half a leg and a vaporeon that bit Selkie on the arms more than once. She got used to scrapping with her father’s beasts, loved the thrill of punching his raichu square in the nose as it burned her with lightning, and Dad would sip a beer and laugh, enjoy the show from the edge of the lawn. With his trainer days behind him, nothing was better entertainment, apparently, than watching his old progeny brawl with the new. And when Selkie managed to throw his pokemon to the ground and leave them gasping for air after she kicked them in the ribs, she’d turn around and soak in the beaming smile her father gave her, like sunlight on her skin. Then she’d whip around and clock the arcanine in the snout just for good measure.

Oh, how she lived to make him proud. Even when he got angry. Even when she once misplaced a chunk of their earnings and drew out from him such a rage that he beat her with the TV remote and locked her in her bedroom until Mom came home later, screaming at Selkie about the mess of piss and shit in the corner of the room. She stepped out of the bedroom then, Mom’s distressed shrieking drowned out only by the lake of rage boiling at the pit of Selkie’s stomach, and she lifted her chin to meet Dad’s eye with a blistering glare. Her face was bruised and swollen, she knew she looked ridiculous, but still she glared. Dad was the most powerful human in the world, and in that moment, his power to hurt her, punish her for messing up was insurmountable. But someday, that would change. Selkie would only grow from here. In doing so, she would fulfill to him the promise between them, the promise not to be powerless. She was a child now, but childhood didn’t last forever. Someday, he would swing for her, and she would catch his fist and twist till something broke. Someday, not even Dad would have the power to humiliate her ever again.

That would make him proud, right?

But the world was cruel. Her chance never came.

Selkie had long forgotten the catalyst of the storm, but it rapidly swept up her life. Things moved so quickly that she only had pieces of it in her memory. Fragments of the time. She remembered the police at the door one day, her dad’s stalwart form shielding from their penetrative entry. Next time they came, they shouted back and forth at the front door, then thrust their way past Dad into the sanctuary of the house. A police officer grabbed her arm, then yelped when Selkie bit him. A commotion in the back shed, and when they left, they took Dad’s pokemon with them: The aggron, the hydreigon, the greninja, the vaporeon, the raichu, the arcanine, and the breadwinning lopunny, stomach bulging from pregnancy. Selkie’s rage blazed inside her body, set her organs to boil. Those were Dad’s. Those were theirs. How DARE they take their rightful property?!

When they left, Selkie yanked Dad’s denim jacket sleeve. “Why’re you just standing there and letting them take the pokemon?!”

Dad sneered at her, fist shaking. “You can’t fight the people who have all the power, girl.”

Selkie gasped. Her grip loosened on his sleeve. What did he mean, the people who had all the power? Wasn’t the person with all the power supposed to be Dad? They dodged the law together, they got away with what no one else could! The police weren’t supposed to be strong, so where did this power come from now, the power to take away their pokemon? Vaporeon, Greninja, Arcanine… Lopunny…

What were they gonna sell off the streets now?

If the police were strong enough to take their pokemon… what else could they take?

Selkie found out soon enough. The next time the police returned to the house, they came for her.

Pounding on the door. Murmuring downstairs, then shouting and screaming. THUNK, THUNK, THUNK of boots up the stairs, and they breached her bedroom. Selkie’s shoulders tensed, her lips curled in a snarl. They smiled, approached slow, but she wasn’t stupid, she knew the danger. All bargaining attempts and placations failed. Eventually one stood, muttered, “I’ve had enough of this shit,” and seized her around the waist. Selkie screamed, bit him, clawed and kicked, but her efforts were nothing against their power. She caught a last glimpse of Mom and Dad as the cop shoved her in the back of their car. And Selkie screamed to them. Screamed for help, screamed in anguish, screamed for them to run to her, fight for her, please rescue her.

The door slammed, and with Selkie imprisoned within, the police car drove away. In the backseat, suffocated by the weight of the officers sitting on either side, Selkie dropped her head into her hands and cried. And cried, and cried, and couldn’t stop crying. Even when the officers rubbed her back and murmured kind words, she refused to accept the placations of the thieves who’d stolen her. How could a human have this much power, how? How could she be so weak?

After that day, she never cried again. As the storm swept up and shattered her life, Selkie’s heart responded with stillness. It grew still when the strange man and strange woman walked into the police station and claimed to be her aunt and uncle. It grew still when, like a stray lillipup, they brought her home. It grew still when they dressed her, bathed her, rubbed alcohol against her wounds. It grew still when Aunt reached to stroke her hair and Selkie flinched away. It grew still when Uncle reached to change the channel and she screamed. It grew ever still when her new fancy parents tucked her into her new fancy bed in her new fancy bedroom, kissed her gently, and told her they loved her. Selkie, like her heart, responded with silence.

School became a thing. That was hell. Apparently, it was something she was supposed to be doing since she was five years old, yet she was eight and had never heard of the concept. Aunt and Uncle enrolled her in the third grade, and within three days, the principal summoned them to recommend they try somewhere else.

“Refuses to follow any orders, violent with the other students! She won’t do what she’s told! And when Mrs. Rowanberry tried to give her a time-out, she threw a printer at her!” the principal, a weaselly pale man, hissed at Aunt and Uncle. “Maybe you ought to try a different institution. Or take her to a doctor, for Arceus’s sake.”

It was a whirlwind of school after school, a tornado of doctor’s appointments and therapy offices. So many words with no meaning, oppositional defiant and conduct problems and affective empathy and trauma. Selkie’s sole defense against the adults who sought to bend and break her into a good, well-behaved child: Her silence. She harnessed the power to sit in a therapist’s chair, puff out her cheeks, and stare at her shoes until the hour was up. The world had identified her, homed in on her difference, and all she could cling to was the power of her clenched jaw, her refusal to cooperate, to give to her captors the information that, if revealed, would render her powerless. They could suspect all they wanted, but she would never allow them to confirm who she really was. Against the world, she stood alone. Secrets clutched to her chest, she knew smallness.

She was eleven when she began to contemplate death.

In a world of powerlessness, an unending storm of aloneness, where else was a girl to turn? Police officers called her monstrous, doctors called her broken. Neighborhood kids gave her a wide berth. Aunt and Uncle said they loved her, but Selkie had no idea what that even meant. It did nothing to negate the fear in their eyes when she snapped and came at them with swinging arms. Google feigned its concern, offering her helpline numbers as she searched how to not exist (she called the number, they didn’t deal with kids), but the engine made no moves to stop her as she perused results. Selkie found herself swept up in fascination, reading for hours about poisons and hanging and guns and trains. Wow, there were so many different ways to die!

Aunt popped her head in the office door and asked what she was so busy with on the desktop computer. Selkie remained silent. This was a weakness she could not afford to divulge.

But despite keeping her secret, she failed to act. Selkie found the rush of life on the city streets, chased duckletts in the park, lifted caramel squares from corner stores. Bargained with the caramels to win the allegiance of street pokemon, a scruffy oshawott and a runt totodile and a nasty little mareanie who fought for her in the street battles she waged against schoolyard delinquents after class let out. With her pokemon, Aunt’s credit card, and a well-placed lie here and there, she soon won the allegiance of fellow young girls in town, none of which were quite like her but held an attitude against authority that Selkie could respect. For years, they prowled the streets, and Selkie climbed their ranks, amounting a reputation amongst the network of urban middle schools, unprecedented considering she belonged to none. She was dangerous, unhinged, not to be trusted. She’d lie to you and steal from you and kiss your boyfriend behind the dumpster if you crossed her. She’d spent more than one night behind bars. Sometimes, you could catch her sitting by the pond in the park with her pokemon, just… existing. Feeding them caramel squares when they waddled up to her. Looking at the sky, breathing.

She was eleven when she began to contemplate death. She was fourteen when she decided to act. But she knew again the world’s cruelty when her chance never came. Before she could act, she was called.

Selkie remembered nothing of her encounter with It, besides the brilliant light and Its command to save the world. Swept up in the winds of freedom and there she was waking up on the beach. A popplio, human no longer.

The transformation freaked her out, paralyzed her muscles, breath was impossible. She hated her new diminutive stature with every fiber of her being. She’d been growing in the human world, always petite but indisputably bigger, she weighed herself every morning to track the gain. The reversal of her efforts was striking. She wanted to claw her skin off. But she didn’t.

Once her initial panic fizzled out, Selkie took to the surf. Her human self never knew how to swim, but her pokemon form came with an affinity for the water. She swam the tropical Archipelago that It had dumped her in, exploring the islands, gathering info, adjusting to the new body. She came to understand that the world It had brought her to was one of pokemon. She thought this would make her happy; it didn’t, but it did bring relief. She came to understand that this pokemon world, bizarre in nature, was marked for death. She was the only one who knew. She was the only one who could stop it.

What made Selkie special, she wasn’t privy to. She was just a human girl spirited away from a miserable existence, chosen by It to become a hero. But why her? Why did It choose the delinquent, the broken monster, the one who always stood alone? Why did It choose the girl who, until the night she was selected, had resigned herself to death? She would never know; after that night, It never spoke to her again. Selkie sometimes questioned if It was real at all. Maybe she was just a popplio who hit her head, and her wretched human life was but a nightmare.

But no. Even here, humanity’s poison followed. It stilled her heart. Turned her cold. She stole food from the marketplaces, lied to pokemon to produce coin, got into scraps. Punching and kicking no longer worked, so she learned to fight like a popplio, the water at her command.

She drifted through the islands. Ended up on the shores of Spectrum Island, then on the doorstep of the Rescue Guild. Their resources provided what she needed to complete her task, and in the struggle to climb the Guild’s ranks, life sparked in Selkie once again. She was the most powerful being in this world, no? That’s how she climbed the Guild’s ranks with unprecedented speed. That was why It deemed a human necessary to save the world, instead of employing a legendary pokemon. She could save the world, she supposed, prove her might and throw these pokemon a bone. And in return, she’d force It to leave her be. There was no way she was going back to the shithole. Let her settle in this pokemon world where she was a master amongst mon.

Shadow changed everything.

It was supposed to be an everyday mission. Track down and apprehend Talonflame the Rogue and its goons, wanted for trafficking charges all across the Archipelago. After a few days of research and gathering intel, Selkie set off through the surf towards Umbra Isle, a deserted speck of sand nested far to the south, where Talonflame was rumored to keep its goods before shipping them off to Arceus-knows-where. Selkie couldn’t wait to get her claws on it. Pokemon outlaws were absurd in nature: Did they not realize they were mere animals? What was even the point in acts like robbery or trafficking? She loved to knock them down to their place.

Selkie scoured the isle without luck until she reached the Cave. It was a hollow cavity in the earth, unassuming to the onlooker, but its dark maw gave Selkie a foreboding feeling. She entered, creeping as quietly as her clunky popplio body would allow. Heard the murmurs and sharp chuckles of pokemon within, so much for a deserted isle. Pricked her ears to hear their chatter.

“When’s Rogue gonna sell the damn zorua? It’s been weeks! We usually don’t sit around this long.”

“Rogue’s taken a liking to him, dontcha think? He’s in there with the lil runt all the time.”

“I wish he’d be in there less. The screaming’s annoying. Watch a rescue team show up any day now.”

“Nah, man, no one comes around this isle. We’ve got a few more days before there’ll be trouble, at least.”

Selkie narrowed her eyes from where she hid behind the crates. She couldn’t make much sense of the goons’ chatter, but it did seem like there was a victim being held within the Cave. Ugh, how annoying. She’d hoped to catch Talonflame in between jobs, so she wouldn’t have to worry about carting off some crying little kid back to the Guild. She pushed back the fur on her head with a flipper. This mission was going to be an ordeal, wasn’t it?

Oh, well. She was here already. After snatching the set of keys sitting atop the crate, Selkie crept further into the winding tunnels of the cave. She braved the darkness and came to the end of a tunnel, found herself faced with a stone door, and with the keys she stole, Selkie pushed the door open and saw within only darkness. Welp. What a waste.

Wait… No. She saw the flicker of something within, the faintest of lights in the shadowy black. Selkie blinked to adjust her eyesight to the darkness, and within… Ah, the pokemon of the hour: A zorua! This must have been Talonflame’s most recent victim. Selkie stared into the depths of the cave, into the zorua’s electric blue eyes and watched it as it watched her. She cocked her head. There was something so strange about the creature’s eyes. They rolled like a storm; within, she could see everything within. Fear, anger, confusion, despair. Its eyes betrayed all, dripping weakness worn on the sleeve. It was… revolting.

Finally, in a high-pitched, yiping whisper, it spoke. “W-w-who…?”

Selkie stared longer, unsure how to respond. Part of her was tempted to abandon Zorua to its fate. Its stormy eyes betrayed a weakness that Selkie had little interest in rewarding with her rescue. This creature had clearly gotten itself tangled up in this mess, and that wasn’t her fault nor her problem. She resolved to turn around, find Talonflame, and beat it senseless to complete the mission. Someone else could come for this whelp.

A THUD echoed behind her.

Zorua’s breath hitched. “He’s coming… Quick, hide!”

Oh! Uh! Selkie looked around for a spot to hide. The tunnel around her was empty, so she darted into Zorua’s cell, ignoring its frightened yip at her oncoming speed, and slipped behind a pile of boulders in the corner of the tight space. Steadied her breathing. She could rush out and blast Talonflame with water, but for some reason, curiosity tugged her. Bristling to hold back her action, she waited and watched.

As the thuds grew closer, Zorua started to tremble. It was here that Selkie noticed the decrepit state of its body. The little thing was covered in scars and open punctures. Its dark gray fur was matted with knots and caked blood. Selkie watched as, in response to the oncoming footsteps, Zorua faced away from the open door and huddled down, cowered, squeezed its eyes shut and waited. Just waited.

Talonflame’s bright red feathers glistened like blood in the monochrome cave. The immense bird stopped at the doorway, glanced up and down and the open frame, and clicked its tongue. “Who opened this…? Do you know? Answer me.”

Talonflame stared at Zorua in wait. When no answer came, it sighed and sauntered into the room. “You weren’t thinking to escape, now were you?” No response. “Answer me, boy.”

But Zorua did not respond. It remained faced away, eyes squeezed shut. As if by ignoring the presence behind, it could will it to evaporate.

“Fine,” Talonflame spat. In a flash, it was on the other side of the cell, and Selkie watched Zorua choke back a scream as Talonflame grabbed it around the hindquarters with its talons. Selkie’s breath stopped. “If you won’t say who did it, I’ll just assume it was you! I was coming in to have some fun, but if you need to be taught a lesson again, very well.” With its talons, it grabbed Zorua by the muzzle and tilted its head up to meet its eye. Selkie’s heart seized.

“I’ll break you.”

Talonflame ripped into Zorua’s skin. When its scream pierced her ear, Selkie’s heart burst from terror. What was going on? Why was she so scared?! She ducked further behind the boulders and covered her ears, tried to block out the sound of its screaming, but Dad’s laughter was impossible to muffle. She heard the scream of her oshawott as a purrloin gouged its face in a street battle. She heard her screams and cries as the police dragged her away in their van. She felt the blows of the TV remote against her skin and bones, gagged from the stench of piss and shit that permeated the room. Trapped, trapped! She didn’t wanna be trapped! She didn’t want to be SMALL!

Fuck this.

Selkie leaped up from her hiding spot and blasted Talonflame with a burst of water. It stumbled back, spluttering in surprise, and Selkie pounced on it in an instant. Clawed and clawed, ripped through feathers into flesh, and Talonflame screamed as she dug through bone. When it started to flap its wings and claw at her with its talons, Selkie slapped it to the ground with her flippered tail. Pounced, blasted it with water, grabbed its head in her teeth, and yanked.

Something snapped. Beneath her, the talonflame shuddered, choked, and sobbed, and eventually, fell limp.

Selkie’s sides heaved. Though the disgusting wretch was dead, she bared her fangs. Her claws scratched at the earth and itched for more! She had no idea what changed, but this was no longer a mission, no longer sport. Her brain had turned red with an ancient fury, and this time, this time, she would be on top. She would show these monsters weakness. Selkie dashed out from the cell and, upon realizing Zorua hadn’t followed her, whipped her head around to bark at it. “Are you coming or what?!”

Zorua was staring at Talonflame’s corpse. Within those blue eyes, a mess of emotions, she saw the beginnings of tears beading at the lids. “You… Y-y-you…”

“Saved your ass, that’s what!” Selkie shouted. “Now, unless you wanna sit around for them to lock you up again, get off your fucking tail! Let’s go!”

Immediately, Zorua was at her side. Its breath struggled from fear as it leapt over the talonflame’s body, but still, it came. “What are you gonna do?”

“Fight.”

Something turned in her, her monstrosity unleashed. As Selkie clawed through the throats of the beasts, as she slaughtered pokemon after pokemon, as the blood spattered her fur, her furious anger blazed and burned like never before. This could happen here? This was the world she was saving?! A world where a zorua could be stolen, imprisoned, brutalized, and not even its own rescuer had given much of a damn! What the fuck?! Even here, a universe away, humanity’s poison followed. But no, not this. Not again. Selkie was going to drag this zorua out of hell, and not even It or Arceus above had the power to stop her.

Selkie did not leave that Cave until every single pokemon within was tracked down and killed.

And when it was over, when she and the zorua stood panting amongst the bodies and the blood, it looked at her with eyes so big, so frightened, so confused. It stared at her silent, grasping for words that would not come. In its eyes, a question. But Selkie had no answer.

It was habit, the way she bent down to rip a fang out of a cooling lycanroc’s jaw. The talonflame had no teeth, so this would have to do. But when Selkie looked down at her prize this time, her skin crawled. Like holding something dank and decaying. She had proven her strength, but this was no trophy she wanted to keep on her chains. So, instead of tucking it away into her treasure bag, Selkie handed the tooth across to Zorua. Its eyes stretched wet and wide. As it took from her the spoils of the victory, beginning to cry, the zorua wiped at its tears and softly spoke.

“T-t… T… Thank you,” he hiccupped.

“… You’re welcome.”

From then on, her Shadow kept to her side. So different from her and yet, in ways she couldn’t glean, so alike. It differed from her respect for Dad. It differed from her affiliation with those other delinquent girls. It differed from her alliance with the water-types she sat still with in the park. Selkie and Shadow’s togetherness was forged from fire, storm, and blood, but somehow had become so much more than that. The true nature of the shackling bond was beyond anything Selkie had the language for. It stirred a heart bound by stillness. It drew from her kindness and charity. It held within the power to end worlds and, for the first time, show Selkie that she was truly alive.

Was this love?

The answer must have been no… because now, Shadow was gone. With those alien eyes, he’d betrayed her. Selkie slumped down into the surf as the night settled around her. What was good in the world never lasted. It snuffed out weakness, difference, and innocence. And now, without her partner, she could not even relish in its demise. She should have expected, should have known, but for the first time in her life, Selkie opened herself. And Shadow had slammed the door shut. Like a predator stalking across the multiverse, misery always found her.

How could she have been so stupid?

#pokemon #pokemon fanfic #pmd #pmd fanfic #pmd fanfiction #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd till world's end #prose #literature #fanfic #popplio #zorua #fanfiction

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scout-company · 1 year

Text

Atlas—Chapter 6: USCM Penal Colony

Scout has to really try to not touch any of the goopy mud at the top of the hill. The mud coats more than she expected, and as she and Alice climb to the top, it covers most of the easy handholds.

“Ew…” Scout fizzles when her left hand accidentally touches a mud-slicked stone. Even though her sense of touch is dulled through the composite material of her prosthetic, the mud is still cold and slick under her hand. And it sticks to her fingers like thick, clingy slime. “This mess is nasty. Almost as bad as tar.”

“It is tar,” Alice notes quietly, carefully avoiding the worst of the mud herself while she peeks over the hill, “Partly, anyways. Mixed with mud. The prospector says this area’s riddled with tar pits.”

“Nasty,” Scout buzzes again, doing her best to shake the gunk off. It helps that a combination of the sun’s heat and Scout’s own heat makes the stuff softer and more willing to shake off. Still leaves her fingers sticky. She shakes off as much as the tar-mud as she can, then starts to peek over the hill at the building compound ahead. “How folks over here can stand livin’ ‘round this mess is beyond me—!” she starts to say, only to slip into a startled whistle when Alice grabs the hem of her shirt and yanks her back down. She flares with a crackle and sparks as she regains her balance, “Alice, what the heck was that for?!”

“They’ll spot you like that!” she hisses back, intensity of her frown deepening even as she lowers her volume and hovers even closer to the hill.

“They ain’t gonna spot me. I was just—”

Alice’s expression flattens as she counters, “Scout, you glow.”

“An’ it’s almost midday,” Scout points out, pointing at the sun almost directly above them with a finger and an upwards nod, “I may be bright, but I ain’t that bright. I ain’t gonna stand out till sundown. Besides,” she adds as she peeks back over the hill at the compound, “There ain’t anybody to see us right now.”

Alice’s brows knot a bit as she starts to argue, “But they usually have someone on…” But then she cuts herself off when she peeks back over the hill herself, fading to a soft, “Huh.”

All of the buildings in the compound ahead of them have flat roofs with short walls. The building closest to the hill has a long, fenced-off pathway feeding to a front gate, and the roof of that building is entirely flat except for a single short tower in the corner. Compared to the rest of the buildings, it’s squat. And it’s completely empty.

Alice starts to mutter, “Where did they…?”

But Scout scrambles to her feet before Alice can finish, urging her on with a light swat to her shoulder and a pop, “Maybe they’re takin’ a siesta. C’mon, let’s scoot before they show face.”

Quietly the two of them make their way down the steep hill towards the compound. If there’s one good thing about the tar-mud, it’s that it makes less noise than parched, bone-ridden sand and it makes it easy to slide down the hill.

The building in front of them is tall and cold and uncaringly square. Despite being as colorless as the rest of the overall desert, it drains what little vibrancy tries to pop up around it. The tar pit it sits in doesn’t help.

There’s a sign just in front of the fenced pathway, standing guard just before the compound’s stone foundation juts out of the mud. Its base is the same stone as the rest of the foundation; the rest of it is a paler stone more native to the area. Some of the cracks and scuffs show its age as signs of time; the rest of the cracks are signs of violence.

“Looks like a grand gravestone,” Scout hums grimly as she studies the sign. There’s large letters carved into its face, but they’re in a language Scout can’t read. She can tell it’s not written in the same writing all over the Outpost, but that’s the most she can parse.

Alice sticks closely behind Scout, pointedly staying away from the sign even as she reads aloud, “USCM Penal Colony.” She shudders.

Scout glances over her shoulder at her. “USCM?” she echoes, “What’s that?”

“Some sort of…old army or something from Earth,” Alice mutters, tilting a shoulder in half a shrug while tugging anxiously at her shirt. “I only ever heard stories. None of them pleasant.”

Scout gives a long, soft whistle as she mentally files that note away. “Fun,” she drawls.

Alice agrees with a grim hum, her lips pressed together into a tight line as she casts one last look at the sign, then tears her eyes away.

Scout waves her onward, stepping up to the stone foundation while drawing her dagger.

For whatever reason, there’s no gate at the beginning of the pathway. Instead they’re funneled onwards by walls of thick, chain link fence and by barbed wire looming above like withered, wickedly twisted vines. The metal glitters in the sunlight like cold ice while glittering in Scout’s light like lava.

The only gate is a thick metal door embedded into the stone wall of the building proper. It’s nearly as worn as the rest of the place, with a section of its rightmost edge polished by repeated touch. Despite the wear, though, it gives slightly when Scout pushes on it, and after a minute of pushing at different angles, she manages to push it sideways along its sliding track. A slight grind and suck of air from old pneumatic systems announces her success, loud enough she and Alice freeze for several moments. But the only sounds Scout can hear are distant echoes of people doing their own thing, voices and laughs distorted by hundreds of stone blocks in stars know how many walls. Plus the incessant wailing of a siren, but it didn’t start when she pushed the door open, and it doesn’t freak out when she peeks in. Looks like they’re clear.

Scout quietly presses her way onwards, signaling for Alice to follow closely with a small wave of her fingers.

This whole place feels eerie. The weight of the stone building compresses the tension right on Scout’s head as if it’s an artificial cave. More of those huge, blocky letters are written across the wall of the entrance hall they pass through, the cracking white paint catching the blinking red light of the alarm in the corner. The alarm’s light keeps flickering off-tempo with its blinks—must have been going for so long it’s wearing out.

Alice shudders behind Scout’s shoulder when they both glance at the huge letters, and Scout realizes they’re the same letters engraved on the sign outside. Huh.

Aside from the alarm and the letters, the entrance hall is completely empty safe for the gate at the other end. And it’s an actual gate door this time—made of thick, crossed metal bars, some of them starting to rust in the corners. Carefully Scout approaches the door and peers past the bars at the foyer-like space beyond.

There’s a few benches along the walls, along with a space that looks like a bench had once sat there but had been torn out at some point, with discolored stone and more than a few deep scratch marks. A vending machine sits in front of one of the large metal-plated support pillars embedded into the walls, slightly off-kilter in comparison to the clinically straight grid of stone tiles in the floor. Someone probably dragged the vending machine in and left it there.

Scout almost tries to wiggle the door to see which way it wants to open. But then footsteps echo from above, getting closer.

Alice gasps while Scout sparks and they both duck back, pressing against the wall as much as they can. The footsteps tap in slow, meandering beats, accompanied by slurring, horribly off-key humming. First on stone, then on old metal. Each footstep on the metal sends rattling echoes through the place, but the person humming doesn’t sound like they care. They’re just humming away, their notes slurring together into songs Scout can’t decide whether or not she even wants to make heads or tails of. Even when they mumble actual words aloud, they’re in a language Scout doesn’t understand and her translator doesn’t catch enough to translate. But still they continue in a sloppy, rough tenor.

Until they stop.

Warily Scout inches her head around the doorframe and catches a glimpse of worn black shoes, belonging to someone in bright orange pants, partially down the stairs closest to the entrance. They shift in place a bit, swinging a weapon of some sort barely into and out of view. They harrumph and start to mutter, barely coherently enough for Scout’s translator to relay, “One of these days I’m gonna…Huh? What the—Oi, who left the light on out front?”

Shoot.

As soon as they grunt louder and scurry down the stairs, Scout crackles and ducks. Her light got spotted.

She barely thinks when the person—a Human man, scruffy and with wild eyes and an oversized hammer—comes down the stairs and races towards the door. She barely registers his bark at her. As soon as the guy’s in range, she stabs her dagger into the lock and shoves forward.

The door slamming into the guy’s hammer doesn’t do much to slow him down. But it gives Scout just enough of an opening to rush past.

Again that instinct takes over, and Scout barely registers ducking under the man’s hammer, her dagger catching his arm. She registers him staggering back briefly enough to send him backwards again with a kick. He shouts something, her translator relays it as a call for help. More footsteps start clambering into indistinct echoes from further in the compound.

The man swings again, and Scout ducks away and lets him knock himself over from the momentum. Before he can recover, Scout jumps onto his upper back, holding onto his shoulder with one hand while hovering her dagger near his neck—not close enough to cut, but close enough for him to see the blade poised like a scorpion.

“Oi! Get off, you cricket!” the man barks, starting to scramble to his feet.

“Where’s the goods y’all stole?” Scout sparks back.

“Who do you think you are?!”

Alice answers for her with a shrill, “Scout!”

Scout snaps her head up as the gate on the far side of the foyer slams open, the sound of rickety metal against stone rattling the air before gunshots pierce it. More Humans—each wearing the same kind of orange jumper in varying states of disarray—storm through, weapons akimbo.

The man Scout is perched on staggers to his feet; Scout wobbles and barely keeps her grip. But as he tries to raise his hammer, Scout yanks his collar and herself to the side, throwing him off-balance as a shower of bullets zip by. One, two, graze Scout’s arms and corona. One glances off her dagger. One hits the man in the shoulder as Scout yanks him sideways.

He disappears from under her feet in a burst of blue light, cutting his cry of pain short.

“What the—?!” Scout crackles as she tumbles. She shoots Alice a glance and flares, “What was that?! I didn’t—”

“H-he must’ve had a respawn beacon,” Alice stutters between breaths as she rushes to Scout’s side, tugging on her shirt to pull her to her feet.

More gunshots and battle cries cut through the air before Alice can say anything else. Her eyes are already wide, but they shoot even wider as Scout grabs her arm and rushes forward.

Scout ducks under incoming bullets, tugging Alice with her. “Let’s just find them goods and scram!” she declares over Alice’s yelp. “I’m gettin’ the feeling we ain’t wanted!”

“You think!?”

~~~~~

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#starbound fanfic #starbound #starbound novakid #fanfic #I Was The Sun #Atlas

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