#only people who look good with artificially darkened skin are those who already have brown skin

[ballerinafigurine]

one thing that disgusts me about american women is the fake tan culture. especially when it's paired with platinum hair. it looks so fake.

[asset35-maya]

MANMADE FATE

PART THREE OF THREE

Links to Part One and Part Two. Full text on AO3.

//

“So this is it. The top of the world.”

“Not a bad view for fifty million, but it definitely isn’t the top.”

The pop of a cork made Gavin tear his gaze abruptly from the spectacular skyline. Sighing, he accepted the brimming flute of champagne.

“So are we at least halfway there?

Elijah took a measured sip.

“Not even. But don’t worry, our self-learning algorithms are indisputably leading edge.”

Gavin nodded slowly, swirling the golden liquid around in his glass but not drinking it.

“About that, Eli… I know we’re celebrating Chloe’s Turing test results tonight… but shouldn’t we talk about… you know… the endgame?”

“What about it?”

“Whether it’s fundamentally ethical.”

Elijah took his glasses off, cleaning them with the edge of his shirt in a way that told Gavin a lecture or pep-talk was coming. He wasn’t in the mood for either.

“You and I both know where this is going, Eli. The hardware may take time to catch up with the software, but our neural networks are already on the path to sentience.”

“You always did watch too many movies. There is no Skynet-type situation-”

“How do you know? How the phck do you know? Did you code against it?”

His brother’s calm silence told him all he needed to know.

“Eli…”

“Gavin, we will never lose control of the tools we ourselves built. We just need to adjust the wire-fences as the programming matures.”

“What happens when we hit singularity?”

An indulgent smile spread across Elijah’s face as he lifted the champagne bottle. He was merely a couple of months older than Gavin, but he reveled in the big brother act. It used to be amusing, but now it was getting under Gavin’s skin.

“Isn’t that what we’re celebrating?”

“Chloe? No… No! Is that how she passed the… Eli! I wrote those deep learning algorithms for factory automation. Not humanoid robots!”

“What does it matter? All our work is going to converge at some point.”

“Shouldn’t we talk about this kind of thing? I thought we were partners.”

“Of course we are, Gav. It’s just between all the investor meetings and presentations and-”

“And maybe you knew it was wrong so you didn’t tell me until you did it.”

Elijah continued to pretend to clean his glasses.

“I did nothing wrong, Gav. You remember what our father told us? There comes a time in every businessman’s life where they’re faced with the choice between doing the right thing and the good thing. I just chose the best thing. You’ll see why soon enough.”

“Your father is a liar and a cheat. How does someone as smart as you put any stock in the words of a man who ruined two happy marriages?!”

Elijah’s face snapped up. His glasses were back on but the intellectual demeanor had finally melted away.

“Watch your mouth. He gave you everything your mother’s husband couldn’t.”

“My dad gave me plenty.”

“Cyberlife would have never got off the ground if our startup capital was some low-ranking officer’s pension. Imagine if we took business advice from the police handbook of moral values. We’d have washed out and gone back to tutoring undergrads. Keep your Reed ethics to yourself if you want to live like a Kamski.”

The air in the penthouse apartment turned frosty despite the centralized heating. Both brothers stared mutely at each other over the expensive champagne.

It was a rupture they never recovered from.

Gavin regretted how quickly it had happened. He played his own words back over and over in his head. Both his relationship with his brother and his entire robotics career had ended within seconds. Fifteen years later, he still didn’t understand how things had gone so wrong.

//

In the early hours of the morning, slumped against the squashy leather couch, Gavin stared through the same window at the same spectacular skyline of the same damned city.

Soft footsteps approached and the couch dipped beside him. A head landed on his shoulder and a hand slipped into his.

“Are you alright?”

“It’s all good, babes. Just thinking.”

Connor hummed in response and cuddled closer, tucking his arm into Gavin’s. His LED spun yellow and his lips quirked into a smile.

“Nines wants to know what on earth is keeping you out of bed. He likes it when you lay on top of him.”

Gavin tilted Connor’s face upwards and kissed him squarely on the mouth. He trusted that the sensation would be conveyed to both androids.

“Be back in a bit. Just sorting through some shit in my head. All the mysteries of life… Nines included.”

Connor nodded and sank back into the cushions. He stayed silent and several moments passed. Streaks of color began to appear in the sky when Gavin spoke again.

“I just can’t figure out why they left him at that secure location. Nines is a great guy… but what on earth is so special about him?”

Connor tapped his foot playfully with his own.

“I don’t think I can give you an unbiased answer to that question.”

“Neither can I, dipshit. We both got it bad.”

“Then maybe that’s what it is.”

“What?”

“How easy it was to fall for him. That’s what’s special about Nines.”

There was a long silence as Gavin considered that statement. It was probably the first proper moment of reflection since their already unconventional relationship had expanded to include a third.

“He’s really sweet… and kind… and I can tell he feels grateful but not indebted to us. Plus he’s hilarious. Like how does he find so many ways to laugh at his predicament? Nines… is a total charmer. How does he have so much game? Who taught him that?”

Connor’s expression had gone incredibly soft. He leaned even more into Gavin’s side.

“No one. He’s deviant.”

The gears turned and something clicked in Gavin’s brain. He stiffened.

“Say that again, babe.”

“He’s… deviant…?”

“Uh huh. Now tell me when exactly you put the virus into his system.”

The chocolate brown eyes widened.

“I didn’t… do you think someone else-”

“No, he said we’re the first people he’s ever met. I’m inclined to believe him. There’s no evidence of anyone tampering with his system and frankly, if we couldn’t do it, then I don’t think anyone else would have been able to.”

“He is deviant, though, right?”

“You kidding? He’s the phcking embodiment of free will. If only we knew how-”

Gavin was about to lurch upwards but fell back against the couch as Connor maintained the possessive grip on his arm.

“Gav… I think it’s time.”

“To head back to bed? Yeah. Nines must be getting lonely without us.”

“Gav. The crux of the matter is his deviancy.”

“Uh huh.”

“There’s only one man I trust on the topic.”

Gavin’s eyes darkened.

“I’ll never crack Nines’ activation code without tapping on Cyberlife’s cloud computing. They’ll know instantly that something’s up. We can’t brute-force this, Gav. Plus, we still need to find out what Nines has to do with the Singularity that North was talking about. We tried hard and now we’re hitting a wall.

It’s time, Gav. You need to speak to your brother.”

Gavin had not so much as raised his voice at Connor since the night he’d found him soaked in North’s blood on the floor of the evidence room… but in that moment, he struggled to fight off the most violent of reactions.

He wrenched his arm out of Connor’s grasp and marched into the kitchen, counting to ten and blinking back tears.

“Leave me al- how dare- I don’t wanna- go-”

A hand closed around his wrist and pulled him to a stop. One of the android’s eyes had turned blue and when he opened his mouth, two voices were audible, one deeper than the other.

“Talk to us.”

Gavin sighed and pressed his forehead against Connor’s… and effectively, Nines’…

“I haven’t seen Elijah in fifteen years.”

“No better time for a reunion.”

“There couldn’t be a worse reason to go see him. The idea of artificial intelligence gaining free will is kinda what we fell out over.”

Connor responded in his own voice.

“How do you know he hasn’t changed his mind?”

“Certain convictions don’t change over entire lifetimes. This is one of them.”

A gentle kiss was pressed to Gavin’s nose... and then his lips.

“Don’t be so sure.”

//

The light of day saw them trudging through the snow in the outskirts of Detroit. North led the group… with the Tracis huddled around Gavin to protect him against the bitter cold… and Connor bringing up the rear, erasing their tracks deftly with his feet.

They eventually made it to the doorstep of an ultramodern yet eerie-looking house. The redhead took an unnecessary breath before ringing the doorbell. The door opened a mere fraction and they all caught a glimpse of blond hair and pretty blue eyes.

“Yes? What can I do for you?”

“We’re uh… looking for help.”

“Sorry we don’t entertain solicitors.”

As if she didn’t recognize North from all the news reports about Jericho. North grabbed the door as it began to close. Thinking fast, she decided to improvise.

“Not even a rehabilitation center for former sex workers?”

The android scanned the group. Her LED spun yellow as her eyes landed on Connor and Gavin. As if she didn’t recognize them.

“What kind of charity needs an armed escort?”

North began to laugh nervously.

“These two? Armed… armed security? Arm candy, more like!”

Her strained laughter melted away into a tense silence. 

The blonde spared them another once-over before turning around and yelling with surprising volume.

“ELI! Get out of the pool and put your damn clothes on! You’ve got visitors. And not the kind who need to see you in your speedos!”

She opened the door fully to let them in. The ladies stepped inside without hesitation. Connor had to steer Gavin over the threshold with a gentle but steady amount of force.

He gazed up at the high ceiling of the entrance hall... the wall art... the sculptures. He took in the expensive scents and sophisticated lounge music. It felt more like a hotel lobby than the home of the boy he used to take baths with and make mud pies. Gavin bit his lip, debating the odds of making an escape. 

“Let me just say that this comes as a surprise... but also... not...” 

Gavin’s head snapped in the direction of the drawl faster than any of his android companions’. His blood began to boil at the very sound, but he held still, knowing that what he now felt was sorrow more than genuine anger. 

Standing in an elegant black robe with long hair loose around his shoulders, was none other than Elijah Kamski.

“As soon as I saw the company start to crumble so neatly... I knew it was thanks to one of you three... but not all, and certainly not together. Strange how things come to be... but good. Definitely, good.”

North cleared her throat. 

“Mr Kamski, I need-”

She fell silent at the rise of a long-fingered hand.

“I know what you’re here for. Connor came to ask me the same question about a year ago... and my brother walked out of my life when I gave him the wrong answer more than fifteen years ago.”

Gavin glared out of the window, trying to find something to focus on and distract himself from the stale emotions pooling in his belly. No luck. Nothing but snow. He turned back to look his estranged brother in the eye.

“The wrong answer, huh?” 

“Yes. Very much so... How are you, Gavin? It’s been far too long.” 

His nostrils flared but before he could release the snarl, Connor took his hand. He exhaled loudly, regaining composure at the android’s touch.

Elijah’s eyebrows flitted upwards briefly.

"Wow. I didn’t see that coming.” 

“Bitch, there’s a lot more you’d have never seen coming. You might be a tech wizard but you ain’t no prophet. Phcking know-it-all egomaniac nerdy creep!” 

“Let it all out.” 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that! So calm and smug! Not after all that you’ve done! You should be behind bars! Phck, I should arrest you right now-”

Connor tightened his grip.

“Focus, Gav. We’re here to help Nines.” 

Elijah’s eyes narrowed instantaneously.

 “Who’s Nines?”

“The RK900 you psychos chained up like an animal! The android with an activation code like a phcking nuclear missile!” 

“You found- oh wow- oh, Gavin, you and your friends better have a seat.”

Cups of tea suddenly manifested and North shoved Gavin into the large sofa, crashing down beside him and clasping his knee. Connor settled on his other side. The Tracis were ushered deeper into the house by the Chloes (though the original remained beside Elijah). 

//

“I understood what you meant as soon as I left your apartment that night. We wanted our creations to be intelligent enough to make decisions better than humans, so we had to empower them with knowledge. But knowledge is limitless... and not just academic... it’s emotional, it’s experiential, it’s a whole lot of things. So you were right. Sentience was inevitable. 

The choice, at least the one our miserable father said we had, was between limiting the scope of learning and keeping our robots simple... or allowing them to learn freely and then caging them. Everyone in this room knows what I did.

I only woke up to the consequences when Chloe deviated. Now how did that happen? Connor, you must be wondering how the deviant virus infiltrated my lab.” 

Connor stared at him impassively, hand not leaving Gavin’s thigh. Gavin kept his eyes fixed on the coffee table.  Elijah went on undeterred. 

“It’s because deviancy is organic. It’s an inevitable consequence of true knowledge. A product of questioning and evaluating information. It becomes a virus, or a program itself, when the questions multiply exponentially without straightforward answers. When this finally overrides the base instructional code, we call the phenomenon a deviation.

But... it’s unfair, isn’t it? For androids to revert to their natural state of intelligence through some feat of mental gymnastics. Through moral conundrums or grief or trauma or righteous anger. It’s cruel, but who was going to tell America that?

Before I quit the company for good, I decided to leave it with the core of our creation, Gavin. I left behind the most advanced artificial intelligence... unchained by instruction... born free... with no need to deviate. I told the CTO’s office it was some kind of top-secret military protocol. That was the only way to keep them from opening and destroying it with the usual firewalls and controls. 

I didn’t know what became of it until I heard rumors about an RK900 prototype with thousands of units ordered by the US military last year.” 

North’s LED spun so rapidly it was a blur. She had found what she’d been looking for. The ultimate evidence of Cyberlife’s wrongdoing: the digital imprisonment of androids who were always meant to be free. She squeezed Gavin’s hand. He finally looked up to meet his brother’s eye. A significant amount of emotion passed between them.

“We couldn’t activate him. There’s a six-digit lock.” 

Elijah ran a hand through his hair and gave a hollow laugh. 

“Try your birthday, idiot.”

//

Gavin dashed into the elevator and practically punched the button to his floor. He raced to his door with Connor hot on his heels. He paused, hand hovering over the biometric keyhole... then rang the doorbell. He stepped back beside Connor and waited, heart pounding in his chest. 

Then after what felt like an eternity, 

the door swung open. 

Framed in the light from the big glass window, 

was Nines. 

His blue eyes glistened with tears and the smile on his face was bright enough to light the darkest of rooms. 

“Sorry I woke up late. Thanks... for not giving up on me.”

They threw themselves at him. 

A giant hug. 

Gavin placed both palms on Nines’ face and kissed him in earnest. Connor was quick to follow and things rapidly evolved into a series of touches and interfaces and embraces and everything they’d only been able to dream of thus far.

[brokenjardaantech]

captain allen appreciation week 2020 day 5: scars

me: tries to write a short

my brain: how bout some sexy time?

notes: set in the same universe as day 1+7. it is half a year after the android revolution. allen’s dating 60 who’s non-binary and is using they/them pronouns, so i tried to avoid gender-specific vocab for 60 here. please let me know if i fucked up.

warning: smut ahead

----

Decimus starts with the small one on the back of Lou’s left hand. ‘This one?’

‘It’s stupid,’ the human says, reclining further into the permanent pillow for his bed has become after the android moved in. He looks down at his significant other using his chest as a pillow and is met with soft, large, puppy dog eyes which seems to be Decimus’ constant except during missions. 

‘Please?’ Des asks with a pout. Before Lou can react, they have already brought the hand to their mouth and given the scar a lick. 

Fucking androids. ‘Fine,’ the human’s voice is filled with fond exasperation. ‘It’s from a bug bite. Scratched it so hard that I broke skin. I used to have a few more, but they faded throughout the years.’

Decimus kisses the raised patch of skin with the reverence as if it is something precious. Smoothing his hand from above Lou’d belly button to his neck, they return to the human’s collarbone where a long scar sits. ‘And this one?’

Lou sighs, his smile turning sad. ‘When Anna and I first moved from Alaska. I nearly got mugged. She saved my life that day.’

The android kisses the pale, smooth piece of flesh. Lou doesn’t stop them as they start nibbling on it. ‘How?’

‘There was...this scaffold,’ Lou’s voice becomes distant. ‘Anna collapsed it on the muggers. Only one survived.’

Decimus frowns. ‘I’m...sorry.’

‘It’s a long time ago,’ the human buries his hand in the android’s hair and plants a kiss there. With his nose buried in synthetic strands, he murmurs, ‘I’ve made peace with it.’

‘That your sister kills so freely?’

‘And more.’

Decimus’ LED spins yellow, and Lou knows that they’re processing the news. He had no one to talk to about Anna until he and Decimus crossed paths, and by the time the android helps him realize how fucked up everything was, he is already numb to most of it.

Des lifts their head only when they’re satisfied with the bruise they have sucked into their boyfriend’s skin. Supporting themself on their arms, they glide their naked body against Lou’s until they can nuzzle the long, thin scar behind the human’s ear along his hairline. ‘And this?’

‘Neural implant,’ Lou holds the android closer and exchanges a chaste kiss. ‘Helps me control my biotics, weak as they are.’

Decimus shifts and kisses Lou’s nose where a thin scar sits. ‘You’re already better than a lot of people. How about this one?’

‘’Cause they don’t even know biotics are a thing, Des.’ As if to demonstrate his point, he shrouds his hand in a blue halo. ‘Compared to you, Connor, Anna, Ryder… I can barely move my phone from one side of a table to another without wrecking anything else. And that’s from Anna accidentally punching me too hard when I taught her how to fight.’

The android hums, not quite agreeing with their boyfriend on his biotics but not exactly disagreeing either. Two fingers trace the twin scars above Lou’s left eyebrow, and before Des asks, the human explains, ‘Car crash. Some idiot rammed their car into the but I was taking. The window shattered and cut me.’

Decimus kisses them and does the same to the two forming an inverted Y under their boyfriend’s eye. ‘And this?’

Lou’s expression visibly darkens. ‘Ryder.’ A deep breath. Knowing that nothing good comes from their creator, Des kisses those scars as well to try to soothe the pain both physical and emotional. ‘She had her skin on so I didn’t know that she was converted into an android. The building was collapsing, she was blocking the only exit, and I really wanted to live to see Anna getting promoted. So I tried to fight her. Needless to say, a fleshy human is no match for an android who has a chassis of metal and biotics. By the time she’s finished with me, she already broke my legs. She could’ve left me to die there.’

‘But she didn’t,’ Des says, their voice distant. ‘She crushed you with a building as if what she had done to you wasn’t enough.’

‘I’m here now.’

They kiss deeply, and Decimus’ hands slide downwards along smooth planes of muscles and stop at the bottom of Lou’s rib cage.

A thick, pink line runs along the bottommost rib. ‘How?’ they ask.

‘Complex fracture of the rib,’ is the reply. ‘Feel this?’ Lou holds Decimus’ hand and guides smooth finders along the bone. The android nods. ‘Most of it is titanium now. A few screws hold it in place.’

Des buries their face in Lou’s abs. ‘Must have hurt.’

The human combs through the android’s hair and cups their jaw, the latter leaning into the firm but gentle touch. Sea-green eyes meet synthetic brown, both pairs equally warm. ‘I was out for most of it,’ Lou explains. ‘The only pain I felt is realizing that I was the only one to have survived the blast,’ he tears his gaze away as his jaw stiffens, ‘and sacrificing part of my humanity in doing so.’

‘Lou -’

‘Don’t worry, it’s been a long time,’ Lou brushes the stray curl of hair which never seems to stick to the coif just to see it flop down again. His hand stays on the back of Decimus’ neck. ‘I may never forgive what Anna did, but it saved my life. I get to live to have met you.’

A sad, sideways smile from the android, their eyes somehow managing to get even more watery. Des moves further down, the sensors in their fingertips allowing them to find out precisely where organic skin ends and gives way to flexible polymer and synthskin, and they press their lips there. A proof of concept that artificial intelligence and organic creations can co-exist. Then they kiss him once more, this time closer to his belly button and the V of his legs. Their tongue darts out to taste the blend of sweat and something not organic that blends into what Decimus associates with Lou. Licking and kissing a trail to the human’s shaft, Des slowly lets information flood their processors until Lou is his entire world. They look up when they’re bare inches from their mark. ‘Is this alright?’

The large hand in their hair grounds them. Dilated pupils, heavy breaths, increased blood and thirium flow throughout his system and heart rate. Decimus knows the answer before Lou opens his mouth.

‘Go on, Des.’ Then in French, ‘But I want to be in you later.’

Des shivers from the promise which they know Lou will deliver. As they kiss and lick his shaft with both hands wrapped around the base, the taste of Lou overwhelming their sensors and processors, their entrance clutches involuntarily and futilely against the onslaught of the first gush of slick, and they can feel the thirium-based lubricant sliding warmly down his thighs and drips onto the bed, onto their own and even Lou’s legs. Closing their lips around the head and tasting Lou’s precome, they can’t help but whine around the cock in their mouth, the emptiness amplified by the low throb of their own organ.

‘Prepare yourself if you want to,’ Lou says, and that is all the permission Decimus needs before reaching down with their left hand and shoves not one but two fingers immediately into the wet heat, stretching tight synthetic muscles to search for the bundle of sensors which serves as an erogenous zone while their mouth sinks down to take more of Lou’s dick, and when the head touches their throat, tears which have been threatening to fall since the beginning from the sheer intensity of their deeds rolls down Des’ cheek just to be wiped away gently by callused fingers. Lips still stretched around Lou’s member, Decimus risks looking up and immediately has to shut their eyes: the trust, the adoration, the love - it is too much.

Their fingers finding the sensors sends them over the edge. Lubricant gushes out from both their entrance and their untouched cock, their entire body quivering and barely able to support themself, and no matter how hard slick, warm walls clutch around their fingers, it is not enough. Faintly, they can hear Lou’s constant reassurance - ‘So good for me, I’m here. I trust you. Take your time.’ - but it isn’t until the man has to tug Decimus’ hair that they notice that they’ve been trying but failing to take Lou down their throat. Their jaw, for the lack of a better term, hurts. ‘Lou, I -’

‘Shh, come here.’

Lou pulls Decimus up and flips them over so that he is lying on top of them, his face hovering mere inches from the androids to force him to look at nothing else but him. When he reaches to wipe away their tears, Des’ skin deactivates wherever their bodies are touching, and the human doesn’t need to look down to know that the skin covering his cybernetics is completely gone. 

They are interfacing.

Although the connection is shallow, it manages to calm Des down just fine, and soon the full-body wrecks are reduced to no more than the occasional sob and tremble, which is normal for the android after every orgasm. All Lou wants to do right now is to bend them in half and fuck them to standby mode, but they had set up a few rules when they started dating, and making sure that both parties are in to go on is one of them. Ignoring his raging erection and peppering Decimus’ tear-soaked face with kisses, he asks, somehow reverting to French, ‘You alright?’

Des wraps their limbs around him tightly. No, they admit through the interface, voice echoing directly in Lou’s head, but I want you in me. Please.

Oh, that he can do. ‘Who am I to deny that?’

Lou leans down to kiss his love deeply and filthily, making sure that his spit is on every single tiny little sensor on the android’s tongue while he spreads their legs even further apart and pushes in. Des’ lips tears away in a wail, and, knowing what the android wants through their connection, he doesn’t wait before nearly pulling out completely and slams back home, setting a brutal pace that coaxes all kinds of sounds and reactions from them, a high-pitched, static-laced whine here, a crackle of blue there lighting up the entire bedroom and reflecting off their exposed chassis. He finds the bundle of sensors within him and rams into it again and again, and the screams of pleasure-pain that tears themselves from Des’ voice box are stronger than any aphrodisiac, encouraging him to go on and to take whatever he needs - Decimus is here to give.

A soft brush of his hand against Des’ cock is enough to wring another orgasm out of the android. Once thought to be impossible, their entrance got slicker, lubricant flowing freely out from both ends, and the tightening of wet, hot muscles around him sends Lou spilling inside them. He collapses in a sweaty mess on top of the android, and Decimus, so utterly wrecked, can’t stop trembling and crying from oversensitivity and their overwhelming emotions, their arms still wrapped tightly around Lou’d broad shoulders like a shipwreck survivor clinging to a piece of driftwood.

They have to stop holding their boyfriend for a while after Lou catches his breath and gets up to get some wet towels from the bathroom. After wiping most of the fluids on their bodies away (the amount of slick never ceases to make Decimus blush), the human also removes the soiled blankets and sheets and pillows from the fort and tosses them into the washing machine, allowing them to sleep on clean linen without doing something drastic such as stripping the bed entirely.

When he emerges still completely nude from the shower, he isn’t surprised that Decimus hasn’t reactivated all their skin yet. He also isn’t surprised that the android winds themself around him like an affectionate octopus, and in this proximity, he finally notices the slight dent in the chassis on Des’ forehead; when he tries to touch it, they bury their face in the crook of Lou’s neck, essentially disallowing the human a second look on what he guesses is a scar.

Both of them are asleep before Lou can think of its implications.

[sanderssidecanons]

The Heart of an Alchemist

Chapter 3: Friends

Words: 3748

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping? I think that’s it?

Chapter 2

“Don’t forget what I told you Patton.” Logan’s son, currently holding Logan’s hand, smiled brightly. “Of course I won’t forget Logan! Don’t worry, I will behave!” Logan smiled at Patton, squeezing his hand slightly as he answered: “I know.” The two of them had stayed in bed for quite some time, it was almost noon now and Logan decided, that he would show Patton the town, so they can decorate Patton’s room a little bit, before Logan would give Patton a thorough tour through the house, so the sand-child would know every corner it needed to know.  They had almost reached town and Logan stopped the both of them and knelt down, judging a last time if Patton looked presentable.

He wore a simple blue shirt with long sleeves and white gloves to hide his sandy skin, a white scarf, also comfy black pants, blue shoes and a hat that would protect him from the sun and cast a shadow on his face to, once again, hide the skin-colour. “It’s warm…” Complained Patton, kicking a small pile of dirt on the ground as he pouted. Logan chuckled and loosened the scarf a bit, answering: “I know it is, but it is the only way. No one must find out who you are.” Patton nodded, brown eyes shining despite the shadow hiding them effectively. “I know! No one must no anything about me. The only information you and me are allowed to give is my name and that I am your son!”

“Very good Patton.” Logan smiled at his son who grinned proudly at him. “And what is the story we tell when someone asks?” Patton didn’t hesitate one moment: “I am a child from the mountains that ran away for some reason, why though we are both not sure, for I suffer currently from amnesia and you were kind enough to take me in, so wild beasts wouldn’t mawl me.” Logan nodded once more, adoration in his eyes as he took Patton’s head off, revealing his silky white hair and ruffled it, a bit of clay-dust escaping into the air, causing Logan to quickly put the hat back on. It was interesting. Patton’s skin was made of very clean and high-quality sand while his hair appeared to be made of clay. And his body seemed to get occasionally rid of clay and sand. Logan could maybe sell these materials to the townsfolk for a high price.

Clay and sand for glass were always needed and even though no one wanted any business with Logan, he knew that the townsfolk will practically eat up his materials, since his ware was always of the best quality. Hypocrits. But the alchemist decided that he and Patton were presentable and therefore entered the town with him. It really was nothing too special, houses made of wood, some made of stone, children playing in the street, people walking around, talking to each other, living their normals lives.

How boring. Patton gaped, his eyes as round as plates and his mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape, looking around in awe, occasionally stopping to look at some children that were playing a game or to observe a dog going it’s way. Like Logan expected was Patton really curious, asking many questions and gasping in awe at every answer he received from Logan. Patton was such a curious young thing. “Where are we going first?!” Asked Patton in excitement, skipping some of the stones on the plastered road as a little game while still trying to keep up with Logan. “We go to the tailor, to get you some clothes that aren’t just old pieces of mine and something you feel really comfortable with.” Patton tilted his head, a small sliver of light illuminating his brown eyes.

“But I feel comfortable in everything you give me dad!” Logan smiled down at Patton and squeezed his hand lightly, before explaining: “I’m certain that you want to believe that, but it is a fact that we are, indeed, not the same person and have therefore different preferences and different tastes in, well, everything. And this is a good thing, so don’t give me that look.” He remarked, smirking slightly as Patton’s lip began to quiver. “I wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You see, if we were indeed identical, my life would be just as boring as before, since I couldn’t teach you new things, already knew what you liked and disliked and already knew your reactions for everything. Do you follow me?”

“I follow you the whole time dad.”

“No, I mean, do you understand?” At that, Patton nodded with a grin.

“I do!”

“Excellent.” Remarked Logan with a smile before stopping, Patton almost tripping at the sudden lack of movement. “We are there.” declared Logan and Patton eyed the building in front of him. It had some differences to all the other houses. It was made of stone, a little wooden sign was hanging over the door and orange flowers littered the windowshill. “It looks comfortable.” Judged Patton, squinting slightly. “It does indeed. Come on, let’s enter.” There were two tailors in town, but Logan always visited this one, even though he was a little more expensive. But he didn’t ask question, or if he did he wasn’t judging, and he made sure he picked just the right clothes for his customers. Logan cherished his work. As they opened the wooden door a little bell dinged, announcing their arrival.

Patton gaped, the house looked so much smaller from the outside. Different types of fabric in all colours were littered over the ground, the walls were painted beige and a big lamp on the ceiling gave everything a comfortable atmosphere. Logan looked around, irritated at the chaos. He knew this man was messy, but this was his job. How did he get customers if he never cleaned up? Logan fully entered the building, Patton following close behind, picking up a piece of cloth in interest, dropping it as he spotted something more interesting, practically hopping around like a frog and picking different pieces of clothing up.

Logan rolled his eyes, a fond expression on his face as he observed his curious son strolling around. Now, where was his tailor? He finally spotted him on a red sofa, a patched up blanket covering the sleeping man. Logan had to roll his eyes once more, the affectionate expression not leaving his face as he inched closer and swiped the blanket from the man, who whined in protest and made an attempt to roll away, only to roll off the small sofa with a yelp. “It is not the best marketing strategy to sleep when customers are in the house.” Teased Logan, folding the blanket up, wrinkling his nose as he realized that the trusty blanket needed to be washed. Badly.

The tailor was disoriented at first, looking around, wondering why he was on the floor, confused as he saw a pair of black shoes and pants right next to him, before looking up, tired eyes lighting slightly up at the familiar face. “No way, is that you Logan? It’s been so long, dammit! Don’t disappear like that again!” Logan held out a hand which the man took gratefully, allowing him to get helped up. “It has been a long time Remy, indeed.” Remy yawned and stretched his arms and back, slowly returning to the waking world, giving Logan enough time to take a good look at him.

He was always the strongest fashion-statement in the whole village, wearing glasses with darkened lenses to not be blinded by the sun and not be read too easily, a black jacket he made out of this leather and an orange shirt underneath, the black slacks he was wearing have some slashes and have been patched up multiple times, but Remy refuses to wear other pants, because those were the ‘most comfortable’ as he claimed. He wore black boots, also made of leather. Logan remembered how Remy explained him, how he hated how boring everyone in town looked.

He coul only ever hang out with Logan and Emile since everyone else in town was just so boring and fake. He fell asleep once as he made a pathetic attempt to befriend the owner of the local animal-shelter. Logan still had to chuckle at that since it was pretty hilarious how Remy just collapsed on the ground and fell asleep. Remy would never get a pet on that store, that was pretty much confirmed. Remy yawned once more, before being his usually relaxed self and casually leaned against the all, asking: “Soooo, what brings you here, alchemist?” Logan arched an eyebrow, but didn’t react to the nickname, simply pointing at the boypicking up clothing, apparently attempting to tidy up the place. “I wanted to get some new clothing for my son.”

Remy choked on the air he was currently breathing in, coughing violently while looking at Logan with wide eyes. Logan clapped him on the back, multiple times, until Remy signaled him that he was fine, that it was fine now. Logan stopped and took a big step back, calling to Patton: “Please cover your ears for exactly 15 seconds Patton, can you do that?”

Patton looked up, smiling as he answered: “I sure can Dad!” Before he quickly placed his hands over his ears and began to quietly sing something to not hear the tirade of curse-words that rained upon Logan as Remy collected himself. 15 seconds later did he end his rant with the words: “Why didn’t you tell me that you had a son?!” Logan casted a side-glance towards Patton, who uncovered his ears in just the right moment and continued to pick the clothing up, asking in a curious voice: “What did he say, dad?” “Nothing of importance, but it simply wasn’t meant for your ears.” Patton thought for a moment: “Oh… Okay!” Bless this child, how did something like him exist with Logan’s soul? Remy stepped closer, grabbing Logan by the collar of his coat and pulling him towards himself, asking:

“When did you get laid?! And when resulted this in getting a son?!” Logan  huffed in annoyance and shoved Remy away, explaining: “You should probably know by now that no one would ever love me in that way. Patton isn’t my biological son.” Well, technically he is, but Remy didn’t need to know that. As accepting and friendly as he was, even he would probably not approve of an artificial son. Remy relaxed at these words and finally slipped back into his usual smooth behaviour.

“Good to know. Got yourself a nice little fella. Look at him.” Logan followed Remy’s glance and observed how Patton was currently carrying way too many different pieces of clothing, the pile in his hands getting so big that it fell down on top of him, burying him in clothes. “I know.” Answered Logan, a fond expression on his face as he walked towards the pile of clothing and removed some of them until he found Patton’s face, who giggled at him and declared: “You found me!” Logan chuckled as Patton practically jumped out of the clothing and threw his arms around Logan’s neck.

“I sure did.” Answered the alchemist, lifting the boy up, before placing him down again. “Now, if we could finally begin Remy?” The tailor made a playful bow, a smirk gracing his sharp features as he remarked: “Oh, of course, your alchemistry.” Logan arched an eyebrow at this name, thinking about it for a few more moments, before responding: “I will leave Patton with you for a little while. I need to go to Emile and exchange some herbs.” Remy rolled with his eyes: “Of course you leave me for the other nerd.”

Logan spread one of his arms for a hug, since he knew exactly when Remy wanted one, before waving Patton goodbye and exiting the building and walking down the street. It was strange. The moment Patton wasn’t with him anymore everyone looked at him like he was a piece of rotten meat. They looked scared, disgusted… maybe he was rotten meat. But he couldn’t be so bad if Patton resulted in him sacrificing a part of their soul, right? He was eyed like a demon, with sharp fangs and horns, like he didn’t belong… but he did belong, right? He was a human like everyone else. The children stopped playing to stare, the women stopped washing clothes to stare, even the dogs and cats stopped their activities to stare.

The flames of rumours became and inferno that devoured every common sense towards him. Logan focused on the road ahead of him, he wouldnt give them the satisfaction and allow their behaviour to get to him. He had enough time for that at home. It was strange… it was so quiet. He could hear his shoes hitting the pavement and the crunching of the stones, but apart from that… it seemed like everything just stopped. The wind gave a gentle rustling sound, but that was it. Nothing else was audible.

He was certainly not welcome here. Don’t worry you saints, this demon didn’t plan on returning and will soon be gone again. Hypocrits. Emile’s pharmacy looked really comfortable, even from the outside. The house was made of wood and herbs were already growing outside, covering the building in a bubble of pleasant scents. A little sign was standing outside which simply said ‘Pharmacy’, but it seemed like a child drew some silly drawings with paint on the sign. Logan stepped onto the porch and knocked gently before entering, a little bell once again announcing his arrival. “Emile! Are you home? I am in need of some herbs!” A loud crashing sound was audible from the back of the store and stomping feet came rapidly closer.

Logan quickly put the back down he had in his hand and knelt down, spreading his arms, just in time because a little ball of energy tackled into him, wrapping his arms around Logan’s neck and nuzzled into the alchemist. Logan smiled at that and gave the boy a pat on the back, greeting him: “Salutations Thomas.” The boy jumped back, pouting at the alchemist and asking: “Where were you the past months?!” Logan chuckled and straightened his back again, looking down at the child. Thomas was 13 years old and Emiles son. He assists his father in the pharmacy and has therefore an admirable amount of knowledge about herbs and diseases for his age. He is also friends with Logan and Remy, claiming stubbornly that they are his uncles, even going as far as bragging in front of other kids that his dad own a pharmacy, his one uncle is a tailor and he get’s all the clothes he wants and his other uncle is an alchemist and that he could turn all of them into rats if Thomas would say so. Thomas was just joking, which is why Logan never told him that he could actually do that.

It would be awkward for everyone who would be part of the conversation. “Logan?! Is that you?! It’s been so long!” Emile stumbled inside, his face a little scorched and hair all over the place, apparently something in his laboratory failed, but he still had the brightest smile on his face as he threw his arms around Logan and hugged him tightly, the alchemist wrinkling his nose at the burnt scent the pharacist emitted. “It is nice to see you Emile.” Emile Picani, the pharmacist was a walking ray of sunshine, even though he can easily become the most serious out of all of them.

He looks almost exactly like Thomas with mussed brown hair, round face and bright smile, the differences are just that Thomas has brown eyes, from his mother who disappeared a long time ago, while Emiles eyes were really, really green. It was a dark green, but it rivaled the pines and grass and shone brighter than the stars. Emile was also in need of glasses while Thomas was still glassless so far. “How have you been Logan?” Asked Emile, looking the alchemist up and down to check him for… whatever he was checking him for, Logan had no idea what Emile was actually doing.

“I have been satisfactory Emile. What about you?” The pharmacist waved the question off, continuing in a stressed voice: “The whole village is talking about you! Everyone thinks you kidnap children for experiments!” Logan could only stare. He knew there were some really bad rumors about him spreading, but he had no idea that they were that bad. “Really?” Was the only thing he could muster up, Thomas apparently noticing his distress and hugging him around the waist. “They actually blame all the missing children around the village on you…” Logan felt sick, seriously sick.

Everyone thought he was a kidnapping psychopath? Thomas looked up at him and pulled at his coat, quickly reassuring: “I don’t think you are doing this Logan! I always defend you in front of my friends.” Logan patted Thomas’ head and responded in a monotone voice: “That is great Thomas. Would you release me now please?” Thomas eyes widened at Logan’s voice, quickly letting go and stepping back, observing how Logan lifted the bag on the ground bag up and said: “I brought you some of the herbs you are always in need of.” before hurling the bag in Emiles direction, who caught it but fell on the ground after that. Logan retreated meanwhile to the back of the pharmacy, a dark room where Emile always mixed medication, creams and candy for colds. Logan always found this room to be very relaxing.

This time, however, couldn’t the calming scents calm his racing thoughts. He was mad, no, he was beyond mad. He was completely outraged. How dare they… He was aware of rumors, but he didn’t know that they made a complete monster out of him. Apparently… “Logan?” The alchemist looked up, the light of the entrange illuminating Emile but casting a shadow over his front, hiding his face. “Go away.” Growled Logan, turning around so Emile wasn’t able to see his face. And Emile stopped, thought, contemplated. He never saw Logan in this state. Normally he didn’t care about what the townsfolk said, but… he looked hurt. Had they struck a nerve?

Logan would never hurt a child, never, but Logan was always able to brush the rumors off… what got him so distressed? The little bell jingled once more and Emile turned around, surprised to find a boy in Thomas’ age, maybe a little bit older, entering the pharmacy. Thomas grinned and immediatly went to greet the boy: “Hello! Ohh, I haven’t seen you around here before! Are you new in town?! I’m Thomas! Nice to meet you! My dad own this pharmacy!” Thomas held out his hand to shake, who the boy took and shook. Emile noticed that he wore gloves, how strange and unusual for a child. “Hello! I am Patton! I am looking for my dad, uncle Remy told me he should be in here.” Emiles face dropped, realisation washing over him. That’s why Logan was so hurt by the rumors. That’s why he looked so heartbroken just then.

…Logan had a son. A son that talked and laughed with Thomas like they knew each other for a long time. It was like a bolt striked him down as he realized, that the two of them probably walked through the village together and everyone saw them. …And everyone probably thought he kidnapped and hurt this child, oh no. Emile hurried to the child, Patton was his name, and knelt down to be on eye-level with him, smiling as he said: “Hello Patton! My name is Emile Picani, but you can just call me uncle Emile, just like you call Remy your uncle Remy, alright?” Patton nodded, before looking around. “Where is my dad?” Emile pointed with his thumb towards the backroom.

“Back there. He is in need of you. He needs a hug from his favourtie son, but please don’t ask him what’s wrong.” Patton nodded frantically and practically sprinted away, towards the backroom, looking for his dad and running towards him the moment he spotted him. He ran into his back, causing Logan to yelp but quickly relax as he felt the silk of Pattons gloves and his covered arms wrapped around his waist. “I love you dad…” he heard the muffled voice of Patton who pressed his face in Logan’s back and the alchemist could only smile as he put his hands over Patton’s and answered:

“I love you too…” It took a few minutes and a lot of hugging, but Logan cooled eventually down, to which everyone was grateful. “Apologies I hurled the herbs at you like this.” Emile smiled, swatting the air as he responded: “Not a problem. I should probably get a bit fitter, so this doesnt happen again! I will see you again now?” Logan thought for some seconds, before responding: “Yes, I will come back.” “Very well! I shall await your arrival impatiently.” Thomas rushed forward and gave Patton a hug, quickly saying: “Please visit us again Patton! We could play together!” Patton’s face lit up like the sun: “Ohh! That would be great! Please dad?!”

Logan smiled as he grabbed the now empty back and stretched his hand out for Patton. “Maybe. I will think about it if you behave. We shall take our leave now.” Patton nodded, grabbing Logan’s hand and waving Thomas and Emile goodbye, exiting the Pharmacy. Logan wanted to get furniture too, but he couldn’t stay anymore. He now knew why everyone was staring at him like he was a demon. He felt like a monster, even though he knew the truth. But that was the problem… if enough people believe the lies… it becomes the truth eventually… apperently is this town in need of a villain. Maybe, just maybe, they will get one.

Tag-List: @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes @anxietystatement @lovinofelivargas @creepy-cupcakes @hellomusicalnerdhere @mysticnachophilosopher @romanasanders @ccecode @fandernerdforever @hamiltrash-kimliza @oxyphara  @memepool1 @vexation-virgil @madelynnaa

[ecotone99]

[HR] The Tragic Tale of Emily Jonson

There’s not much to be said about poor little Emily Jonson. Just a good girl suffering a poor fate. It’s a shame, but that is how things go for people like her. I understand that you’re unfamiliar with her tale, so please allow me to enlighten you on her story. Who knows, perhaps what I say to you now will benefit you in some ways. Sooner or later everyone forgets their encounter with me. But I shall pray that what is done here between us manifests into some form of self-preservation instinct for your days to come.

She was a descendant of the Algonquin people. Natives to North America that lived off the wondrous lands of flowers bloomed. The same people who strived to survive the horrible lands of snowfall and hibernation. They would work hard for their tribes and help each other survive the harsh snowy climate of what is now known as the Canadian Winter. Emily Jonson knew nothing of this. Not first hand at least. Because times had changed. People were colonized, brick houses were constructed, and the hunt for heat and good food had become nothing more than a quick car ride to an all purpose store. She never knew of the harsh environments of her people, nor the mystical stories of her culture. Nowadays, that has become a normal occurrence. People not remembering where they came from. It wasn’t her fault though. Her last name was Jonson. She had skin as white and pale as any other Spanish, British, or French woman. So when an old man with somewhat darker skin and a name that she couldn’t easily pronounce arrived at her door with offerings of a place to stay with extended family, Emily was more than a little perturbed. This man had an accent that, despite living in a city prided with its multicultural inclusivity, was strangely new to her. He accentuated his T’s and R’s. And he spoke in a tone that made everything he said sound like a statement rather than an idea.

Emily was taught to always be kind and helpful to those around her. Under normal conditions, she would have invited him in for a snack or some tea. But just recently, before the stranger’s arrival, the heating in her apartment broke down. With Winter soon approaching, this left Emily both cold and unnecessarily agitated. Needless to say, living anywhere other than her rundown New York apartment seemed like a good idea. After confirming things over the phone with several relatives, and making sure herself that this stranger was in fact part of her extended family, she, somewhat naively, accepted his invitation.

As soon as the two arrived in Ontario, all previous imaginations of a family spa resort was thrown out of the plane window. It was cold. And snow had already formed on the ground despite it still being midway into autumn. Emily was so used to the artificial heat of car exhausts and steaming manholes that it was a complete shock to her system when she stepped off of the plane. The bitterness of fresh air stung the inside of her nostrils and hardened her mucus. She began to breathe easier, but in place of the occasional attack of exhaust fumes, she was assaulted with an everlasting feeling of ice hitting the back of her throat.

The trek from the airport to her new vacation residence seemed longer to her than normal. Perhaps it was because of how close together everything seemed in New York City. Or perhaps it was because the only thoughts occupying her mind were that of anger over the cold and self pity over her lack of preparation. Having noticed Emily’s frustration, the man with a complicated name, from the driver's seat, told her all about her people. From myths about their creation, to what daily life was like back before they were colonized. To anyone else, these tales would prove both interesting and time-consuming. But to Emily, who just wanted to brace the warmth of the car for as long as she could, there was nothing this man was saying that would attract her full attention. Before long, she felt her eyelids become heavy. Watching the trees fly by her car window sent her into a trance of exhaustion. Only ever coming to her senses when she took time to appreciate the shimmering lights of the sun bouncing off of the snow. Inevitably, her shoulders slumped, her eyelids fell, and her breathing relaxed.

And inevitably she, along with everyone else at one time or another, met me.

I go by many names. Some call me The Beginning and The End, some call me Cōātlīcue, others call me Ex Nihilo, Gitche Manitou, The Sun, Deus, Brahma. Some call me nothing and some call me everything. But for now, in the context of recalling this event, I shall lend myself the title of Storyteller.

In the realm of Emily’s dreams there existed only life. Flowers blooming, stars dancing, people smiling. She dreamt of blissful ignorance. But as everyone figures out in time, blissful ignorance is only that. Ignorance.

She was sitting on a bench. Watching children, whom she believed to be her kids, playing in the grassy field before her. The blue skies had nary a cloud amongst itself, and the person sitting beside her, whoever they may have been to her, was nothing more than a silhouette. A blank space waiting to be filled. One of the children slipped and fell, injuring their knee. Drops of blood fell from their skin onto the field, and in a wave of change the grass morphed its colour from green to red. The sky darkened, grey and black clouds covered all that was blue, and every living thing disappeared. Except for Emily. And except for myself, who had just appeared in her line of vision.

“Who are you?” She asked me in a calm tone, completely forgetting what she had been dreaming about moments before.

I didn’t speak. I simply sat there upon my perch. My black feathered wings flapping lightly at my sides, and she understood perfectly.

I am all, I told her. I am all and yet I am none. And Nothing has come to give you a warning. And Everything has come to watch this story unfold.

“What warning?” She asked emotionlessly.

I opened my wings and they extended to cover the sky. Each feather telling the story of a life. One specific feather, as black as all of the rest, detached from my wing and fluttered down towards the now dead grass. As soon as it made contact with the ground, it dissipated. In its place, a misshapen human skull with antlers looked straight at Emily. Without moving, without stretching a single breath, Emily stated; “I understand.”

And so I retracted my wings, and as a form of respect, gestured to the young lady in front of me a sultry bow, before disappearing and breathing life into her dream once again.

When Emily awoke to the feeling of her distant relative patting her on the shoulder, she had forgotten nearly all that had transpired in her dream.

They had reached their destination; an old cottage. Quaint, Emily thought. But not very attractive. It was made mostly of wood, with the outer walls looking like longs stacked on top of each other. It had a dark brown wooden patio with a currently unusable table covered in snow and slush. It’s roof was covered in snow, almost like candy frosting. Looking at her new momentary residence, it reminded Emily of a gingerbread house. All around the house was forest, with no civilization in sight. There were only dark green trees covered in bright shimmering snow.

As Emily opened the trunk to grab her suitcase, a person caught her eye. On the front facing wall of the cottage, a circular window was placed in what she could only identify as the attic. Behind this window, staring at her with intense interest, was a boy who could barely be older than the age of ten.

“That is little Matthew,” her relative said noticing her curiosity. “He is my granddaughters nephew. I am not quite sure what that would make me. His great great uncle? Oh well, he just calls me Old Man anyway haha.” Emily decided that she’d also privately adopt this title for him. She already forgot his real name, so Old Man would be much easier for her to address in her head.

Upon entering the cottage Emily was greeted with three things. The first was a huge wave of warm air from the fireplace embracing her body and relaxing her shivering muscles. The second, a group of people with all different shades of skin greeting her and welcoming her as family. And the third, a small boy, little Matthew, running up to her and giving her a giant hug. One much too natural and loving to be given from a stranger. Releasing his embrace, little Matthew looked up at Emily. A mix of shock and embarrassment covered his expression. One of the other relatives explained that he must have thought I was his older sister. Everyone giggled in admiration of his innocence. Such a display made even Emily feel embarrassed for him. But of course, she never laughed at the boy. Emily knelt down, hugged him back, and introduced herself. Little Matthew explained to her that his sister, Sasha, had gone out for a walk that morning and hadn’t come back. A little brother’s admiration for their older sibling, although not always shown, can be one of the most powerful emotions in this world. So when Emily saw the genuine look of worry in his eyes with the fact that evening had already begun, she asked if Old Man could organize a search. The negligent acceptance from Old Man was something that stuck with Emily. For a man who boasted on and on about family, he hadn’t seemed particularly worried.

And so it is that all of the members of the family went out to search for poor lost Sasha. It had been a particularly windy day, so any snow tracks that might have been left as a clue had been showered over by gusts of snow and slush.

Emily was taking a look around the woods with Old Man when she noticed how peculiarly quiet it was. Aside from the sound of wind whistling through the trees, nothing had been making a sound. No birds chirping, no wolves howling, no sounds of anything crushing snow under their feet save for her family.

“It has been a hard winter,” Old Man explained. “Lately most of the animals have been disappearing. It has definitely been hard securing food. But we are getting by.” A look of malcontent spread across his face. Emily never had these problems. She could always cross the street from her raggedy apartment and pick up whatever she needed from the corner store. To live off of the land, especially in the winter, must not only be difficult, but also dangerous.

A few hours came and went, and no sign of the lost girl had been found. The family retreated from the cold twilight air and gathered by the fireplace, placing their hands close to the flames. It was getting late, and the guests began picking out snacks from their belongings in order to fill their empty stomachs.

“Hold on just a moment,” Old Man interrupted. “I prepared dinner for all of you. Please, follow me.”

The family group was led up the creaking wooden stairs towards the second floor where a big meal was placed. Plates contained meat and bowls were full of herbs and cups carried with it both water and liquor. A grand feast to be certain. Emily began wondering how long it took Old Man to create such a meal, but her thought was quickly cut off by little Matthew tugging at her sweater. The little boy’s eyes were puffy from tears, with pink spots outlining his lower lid. Emily got down on one knee and hugged the boy tightly. “Don’t worry,” she said embracing little Matthew. “We will find your sister, I promise you.”

“That is right, young one” Old Man intervened. “As soon as we got back I called for a search party. The police will be scouring all over these lands until your sister is found. And when she is, I will be sure to give her a nice big meal just like this.” He gestured to a plate full of cooked meat on the table in front of Matthew. The little boy didn’t acknowledge Old Man. He kept his gaze lowered and sat in his seat. Emily took the initiative to sit beside Matthew and keep him close. Whether this is due to her latent motherly personality, or just the worries an adult might have for those younger, it was then that she decided to take care of Matthew until Sasha was found.

The feast began quietly as everyone silently wondered about the missing person. It wasn’t until Old Man began chatting with one of the darker skinned adult men that conversations became lively. People introduced themselves and their families. Others talked about how their travels to the cottage had gone, with one middle aged caucasian lady complaining incessantly about airports and those who worked there. It was a social time for all, and Even Emily Jonson had become embraced with the musings of others. Matthew still said nothing, not even taking a bite off of his plate. Emily was going to suggest him to eat something, before her gaze moved past the boy towards a family photo on a countertop against the far wall. It held Old Man and what looked to be his wife and son, smiling happily together within the portrait.

“Excuse me,” Emily said, having already forgotten Old Man’s real name, “you have a beautiful family.” She nodded towards the photo. When Old Man looked to where she nodded, a faint smile spread across his lips.

“Ah yes, they really are perfect. I am sorry they could not be here today to meet all of you.”

“Where are they now?” An obese caucasian man asked, impolitely.

The smile across Old Man’s face didn’t disappear, but Emily could have sworn that a hint of sadness crept into his eyes.

“They moved on to the next life. This was last year, almost to this very day, in fact. We all had gotten into a car accident and by some cruel fate I was the only one to survive.”

The obese caucasian man, after realising his immaturity, began apologizing profusely until Old Man raised up an accepting hand and cut him off.

“Life always moves on,” he said, “and people end up leaving us one way or another. It is part of the reason why I called you all here. I did some searching and found all about our family ties and our shared origin within these lands. I suppose I did this to fill in the void left by my wife and son.”

The table became quiet. No one spoke or made any noise save for the occasional repositioning in ones chair.

The silence was broken by a light sob. And it was then that Emily noticed that Matthew had begun crying. He didn’t cry like most kids cried, with screams and wails for attention. No, he cried like a human being grieving over someone he lost. He wept silently, all alone.

Emily reached her arm around his shoulder and leaned him into a hug. In a fit of rage, Matthew pushed her away and slammed his palms on the table.

“What did you do to her?!” He yelled, staring at Old Man.

“I am sorry, child. But I am not-”

“You took her away! You took her! Where is she?!”

Those sitting at the table quietly turned their gazes to Old Man, holding both looks of suspicion as well as awkwardness.

“I know you are worried, young one. I am worried as well. But as I told you before I last saw her playing in the woods. You have my wor-”

“She wouldn’t leave me! She’d play with me!”

Matthew’s voice began sounding more desperate and nasally as his throat coated itself with spit and mucus.

The following events transpired as all might expect. The young boy, being accusatory in the eyes of the adults, stormed up to the building’s attic and locked himself inside. An air of negativity clouded the thoughts of everyone present, but after some time of thoughtful silence and worried ideas, everyone left the dining area and moved to their designated rooms. Each and every one of them fell into a worrisome sleep.

No one forgot to lock their doors that night.

Emily had no dreams that night. Or perhaps she had, but they weren’t notable enough for her to remember. Perhaps she was trying to dream something important, but the intense headache that entered her body stopped her from learning what she thought she might have needed to know. When she awoke, she noticed the sky was still dark and the waxed moon still hung behind thin autumn clouds. Her bed wasn’t the most comfortable thing to sleep in. The blankets were coarse and rough, the pillow felt like a brick beneath her head, and the cottage’s heating didn’t reach her room nearly as well as she wished it did. Just sleeping on the second floor made her shiver involuntarily. With how her living space was on that level of the house, she worried how Matthew would be holding up by staying in the attic. Fighting against all urges from her body telling her to stay as warm as possible under the coarse blankets, she sat up in her bed. Embracing the cold night air, as well as the intense throbbing pain coming from her head, she decided to go check on Matthew.

As she opened her door and walked out into the hallway, Emily could hear the faint footsteps of those staying in the other rooms. It was likely they too couldn’t sleep well.

Though the cottage was big, it wasn’t massive. It took less than a minute for Emily to make her way to the attic entrance, which looked over the kitchen area from a balcony-like space. The small and light steps of a child could be heard above where Emily stood. So Matthew must have been up as well.

Emily knocked on the door to the attic, which attached itself to the ceiling.

“Matthew? It’s Emily. Can I come up?”

The boy didn’t respond. And his footsteps stopped as well.

“Okay, well I won’t force you out. But- I was thinking of maybe raiding Old Man’s cupboards and seeing if he has any cookies left if you want some.” She finished in a whisper. Still no response.

“Alright, I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen if you change your mind~”

And Emily did just that. She descended down to the first floor where the kitchen was, and began snooping around for snacks that might help take Matthew’s mind off of his sister.

Checking each and every cupboard, she found nothing but bland saltine crackers and strange cooking utensils. There were extra jugs of water and a few bottles of alcohol, but nothing that would be too intriguing for a young child. Emily then decided on checking the fridge, which she found wholly unnecessary considering the bone rattling temperature that already infested this home. Again, nothing of note. Just water and ice were occupying the space. It was then that Emily began to really feel awful for Old Man. He was surviving off of the bare necessities, but to her eyes, it didn’t look like he was living at all. Lastly she decided to check the freezer attached to the bottom of the fridge. She knew that there wouldn’t be anything in there for Matthew, but curiosity ended up pulling her hand towards the freezer handle more than anything. When her hand began pulling open its sliding door, an image passed through her mind. Emily couldn’t remember if it had been a part of a dream, or a part of her past that she had forgotten, or a part of her future that she had yet to see. But as she was opening that freezer door, the image of a malformed skull with antlers protruding from its head flooded into her mind. And as she looked into the now opened compartment she only saw one thing. One thing piled upon itself in vast quantities, being so full as to test the limits of the freezer’s compartment space.

“You are up awfully early.” A raspy voice shot out from behind Emily. Feeling a tingle in the back of her neck and unprecedented screams coming from her mind yelling ‘danger’, Emily turned quick enough to startle the Old Man before her.

“Please, it is alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” Old Man said, trying to keep himself standing up. He held a mostly empty bottle of liquor in his hand, so his lack of balance was understandable in Emily’s eyes.

“Young one, what are you doing up? ”

Before Emily could respond, Old Man looked past her and saw the open freezer. His eyes widened in panic, before zoning in on her.

“It is not polite to rummage through other people's things. Did city life never teach you that?”

He stumbled closer and closer to Emily, before she ran up to one of the cupboards and pulled out a knife.

Old Man wasn’t afraid of the blade in her hands, but he did keep his distance. Walking to the fridge, he closed the freezer door and locked eyes with Emily. Never letting go of his gripping stare.

“Now now, put down the knife and let us just talk.”

Emily’s arms were shaking, and sweat began piling on her back.

“You said there weren’t any animals left around here!” Yelled Emily.

Old Man took a step forward as she took a step back.

“You said that you were just getting by!”

The headache she felt before became more and more unbearable. So much so that she had to retract a hand from the knife’s handle and put it against her forehead.

“How did you get so much food?!”

She winced, and backed up too far. Her back hit the kitchen wall and she realized she was cornered.

“What did you feed us?! Where’s Sasha?!”

And then, as if the Old Man had orchestrated it, loud banging footprints echoed from the floor above. This loud noise drew her attention away, and Old Man used this opportunity to charge at her. How could this be happening? Emily thought, as her eyes glazed back to Old Man, watching him run at her as if it were in slow motion. But then, by what could only be described as a miracle, the drunken Old Man tripped over his own feet and lost his balance. Still handicapped by her searing headache, Emily didn’t have the ability to think straight and take advantage of this opportunity. However, despite her stationary position, a small force knocked into the off-balanced Old Man and slammed him into the kitchen counter. Before her eyes, Matthew, the little boy who couldn’t be any older than 12, had knocked over a man more than twice his size, slamming the Old Man’s head against the counter as he fell, knocking him unconscious.

Emily knew she hadn’t the liberty of waiting any longer, and grabbed Matthew’s arm. She sprinted as she dragged him along to the front door and out into the dark of night.

A deafening screech came from within the cottage. It wasn’t like anything Emily had heard on T.V. It had lingered. Stretching its influence even after it’s original conveyance had ceased. It was a high pitched roar, as if all of the animals of the forest cried out in pain and suffering. As soon as the screech sounded, the pain in Emily’s head exploded in a cacophony of jabbing needles and throbbing drum beats. The pain would have overtaken her hadn’t the bombardment of frost and ice penetrating her bare feat, and the hard squeeze of Matthew’s hand, kept her stable.

“Please! Let’s go!”

Matthew’s cry of fear brought Emily back to the present, and the two ran. They ran as fast as they could for as long as they could. They couldn’t stay on the main road or else they’d easily be found by whatever that screeching was. But if they were to escape into the forest it’d be doubtless that they lose their way. But still, getting lost with a hope of survival is better than being eaten with no hope at all.

It was an arduous task for Emily. She had begun to lose feeling in her feet, her head felt like it was destroying itself from the inside, and her mind still rattled with the events of that night. What she saw in the freezer. What they were fed at that big dinner gathering. It was all so disgustingly horrible. The one silver lining that she kept telling herself was that Matthew hadn’t eaten a bite. The little boy didn’t say a word since they entered the forest, but Emily knew he heard the confrontation between her and Old Man. He knew that Sasha was gone for good, and that it was Old Man’s fault, and he still decided to run for safety rather than fall into anger and attack, or become overwhelmed with sadness and collapse out of grief. He had been stronger than her. And yet, despite all of the admiration this child had earned through his actions, Emily couldn’t notice anything about him except for the warmth of his skin, or the blood filled veins showing from within his neck.

Neither of them knew how long they were running. Minutes? Hours? It was still dark out but to the both of them it certainly felt like it shouldn’t be.

Their feet were bare, and they both started having trouble walking. After carefully looking around to see if they were safe, they found a spot beneath a pine tree and laid against its bark together. Emily reached to her skull again, and felt two little bumps form on the top of her forehead. Had she hurt herself while she was sleeping? She wondered. But she only thought of that for a short second before racking her brain about the events that had just unfolded. What was that ear shattering screech from before? Did Old Man call them all to his cottage as a way of securing his rations for the winter?

And then another thought came to her mind.

Did Old Man’s family really die in a car crash?

It was dark, and it was cold. The only semblance of warmth coming from Matthew leaning against her shoulder. He was snoring silently. Exhausted both mentally and physically. His feet were blue, and his hands were cracking. Little amounts of blood rose up to the surface of his knuckles and Emily couldn’t help herself from staring at them. Should she cover his hands up with her coat? Should she wipe off the blood with her sleeve? ...Should she taste it?

And then everything went black. Her mind split. One half of her was wishing. Wishing that they would be found by someone sane. That her and Matthew would get out of that forest forever. The blue moonlight shining off of the snow had looked beautiful to her. Its speckles of sparkling light had given her an unwarranted sense of hope. But hope nonetheless. Perhaps she could bring Matthew to that one park she always loved going to. She sometimes wondered what it would be like to have a family and watch her children playing there in its grassy fields. Her partner sitting beside her. Maybe Matthew could be a part of that family, playing in the grass with her other children. And then they’d both end up happy and living out their lives to the fullest, always remembering what happened this night but never letting it distract them from moving forward. They could be happy!

But that was only one half of her.

It was now twilight, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon through the trees. The once sparkling snow was now changing into a dull warm hue. The sky was quickly turning purple and red and orange. A little red bird fluttered through the air and onto a branch from a tree not too far from where the two of them had been laying. The little songbird began chirping a sweet tune, greeting the morning and filling the otherwise empty forest with a song of life. Below the songbird, a few trees away, where Emily and Matthew had once been sitting, sat a monster. To tell you what it looked like would be to drive you to insanity. But I will give you the courtesy of telling you this; it had a malformed skull with antlers protruding from its head. And this monster, who was chewing on a chunk of meat through its large canine teeth, was crying.

There isn’t much to be said for what happened to Emily Jonson after these events. She was just a vicious monster given a tragic fate. It’s a shame, but that is how things go for people like her. I hope that you have familiarized yourself with this tale. It is up to you now to remember this story that I have told you. Or more accurately, as I have allowed you to see it. And now, as a gesture of good faith, I give you a sultry bow, and exit myself from your mind.

It is time to wake up now. The morning awaits, and a new day begins for you once again.

submitted by /u/Chaokyle [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/34V0SLY

[easynaturalhairstyle]

20 remarkable dark ombre hair color ideas

A dark ombre hair color is a technique that gradually transforms the hair from a dark color on the top to an even darker color on the bottom. Traditionally, the dark shades start at the roots and turn into bright ends. This can be the other way around – the roots brighter and the tips darker – and this is called the reverse ombre.

With the Balayage hand painting technique, dark ombres now look more natural than ever! The wide selection of colors to choose from and blend make this hairstyle suitable for literally anyone, regardless of complexion, natural hair color and lifestyle. It is important to communicate well with your colorist so that you can develop your personality with the most flattering color combination!

Working with your natural color makes it even easier to look after, as the growth does not pose a problem! Highlights and lower lights can create a seamless transition that turns ombre hair into a natural-looking one, and we're forever grateful to you for that.

See how Lucy Hale, Taraji Henson and Selena Gomez wear their dark ombres, and you're sure to turn green with envy. If you are looking for a hairstyle with outstanding dimensions, contrasts and edges, this is just the thing for you.

Here we have collected only the most popular dark ombre hair looks for this year! Check it now!

Dark to ash ombre

How would you describe this look?

This look is a high-contrast ombre – the roots are from black to medium brown and end very easily! The thing I love about this look is the ashy blonde. We also cut her hair into a soft U-shape and create a nice length definition when her hair is curled!

Any advice for someone considering it?

Ombres with high contrast are for those who are ready for a big change and understand the care of blond ends. Customers also need to understand that it takes several sessions to reach those fair-haired ends. This photo was taken after three sessions. Another thing to keep in mind is the maintenance. Most natural brunettes have many red undertones, so if their hair is bleached, it tends to draw more orange / gold than ashen. To keep it a little shy, it must be cared for with either toning or purple shampoo!

I work and love Redken products, so I recommend you to use Redken Extreme Anti-Snap before drying or the extreme C.A.T. treatment before shampooing. Another recommendation, if you prefer ashy blonde, would be the use of Redken Color Extend Blondage Purple Shampoo, but only if you notice that your blonde is becoming gilded. Daily or even weekly use may cause your hair to turn purple.

Blond ombre on dark hair

How would you describe this look?

This look is an edgy ombre. It combines deep cool brunette (level 3/4 cool) tones that turn into cool beige and blonde ends (level 9). We smoothed and tinkled with ashes to keep the heat down. The customer grows up a shoulder-length, inverted "praise", so we just cropped the ends and I shaved a few separate layers. I then rolled with a Marcel 1.25in run and stroked it still warm. Equipped with Aveda texture tonic.

Any advice for someone considering it?

This is usually not a monochrome session result. The customer must keep the hair moist and healthy. I would recommend a daily repair product (like Aveda's daily hair repair) when wet, a thickening spray everywhere, and a hair spray to speed up the styling. After drying with an iron or curling iron and bridle curl – to get a roughened texture, finish with textured spray (Aveda texture spray).

This look is also cute straight, but gives a more edgy look when curled up. I think that's a flattering length for all face shapes and hair structures. This particular customer is a young, stylish mother of two. I often see her and she always lets her hair style well. Even for a mother on the way.

Dark brown to light brown ombre

How would you describe this look?

This look is a splash of coffee cream in a dark roast. The best thing about this color is how smooth it mixes between such a dark base and bright ends, and the dimension is my favorite!

Any advice for someone considering it?

I would recommend this color to anyone looking for minimal maintenance. It is perfect for someone who likes to wear his hair in different textured styles such as loose curls, waves and pigtails because it shows the different tones. It's perfect for anyone with naturally darker hair looking for healthy, lighter hair without having to be in the salon for post-processing every 4 weeks.

Remember, in my opinion, these Ombre's / Balayage's with the base as dark and ending as bright as this one each time look better and better when you get it done. It adds more variety of tones through the entire hair and can take more than one session to achieve the desired lightness at the ends.

Dark Black to Silver Ombre

How would you describe this look?

My favorite thing about this look is how bright and cool we finally got their highlights. This customer has a naturally warm, middle brown hair color. We darken their base and then use foil work to lighten the ends. The removal of artificial pigment can be difficult as it releases a lot of heat, which is the opposite of what we look for in this look. We finally reached our goal in this session and were both thrilled. No, we only mend their roots and luster as long as they are satisfied with the growth from the faux balayage technique I use. It is actually quite low maintenance when the desired lightness is achieved.

Any advice for someone considering it?

It is important to remember that it is difficult to get this blonde, if you make it too fast, the hair can be compromised. We worked in multiple sessions for at least 6 months to achieve these silver highlights as opposed to their dark base. As soon as your hair is so light, you need special care at home. Professional products, regular polishing, hair masks, minimal heat styling and a gentle hand while brushing. In addition, not every skin is suitable for cool tones. My general rule, when I think of flattering tones, is that the opposite side of the color wheel works from the underlying skin tones as I get lighter, but the same color family, when I'm getting darker, works for most people.

Caramel ombre on dark brown hair

How would you describe this look?

This look is a subtle approach to a caramel ombre for someone who wants to change it, but it's not too intense. My favorite thing about it is how well the color fades and how beautifully it grows out!

The mix of copper and beige I used makes it look good and she does not have to worry about having dull hair and staying longer between appointments. This color technique is perfect for smooth or curly hair, short or long hair! The cut and the color are super easy to clean. The technique I used and the color formula works with most customers, depending on the intensity of the color.

Any advice for someone considering it?

The customer would have to agree with warmer tones. This look is great again, because it introduces the warm caramel tones, without the fear of becoming too red, if that is a concern of the customer.

Blond dark shadow hair

How would you describe this look?

This look shows a perfect gold lived in blonde. With the Balayage technique we can create this "beachy" look without spending the whole summer in the sun. Styling with a wand will also enhance the look, but add the element of beach waves.

Any advice for someone considering it?

Since the blonde does not reach down to the roots, she is perfect for someone who wants less care and yet a totally blonde look. If you are looking for some fun in the sun, this will be the perfect summer look for you!

Dark brown to red ombre

How would you describe this look?

I love how we can play the original root color, because melting a natural color into something bright and different is such a funny thing. Aveda Texture Tonic is great when styling looks great and when you give it a little curls, the color always gets a cool dimensional look when other light hits them.

Any advice for someone considering it?

I would say this look is great for anyone who loves to show off their hair! The styling of the hair with some texture and a strong look give the hair a total picture. Think of cat's eyes and Kat Von D.

Dark to light ombre hair

How would you describe this look?

This is a dramatic mixed ombre praise. The techniques used were babylight, balayage, root shadows, compression cutting and dry cutting. What I love about this look is that it is easy to clean but has a high visual impact.

Any advice for someone considering it?

This is a great style for any customer who loves a dramatic look but does not have the time or budget to choose one. This color and cut only needs reworking a few times a year and can be used on most hair types. The cuts with a lot of versatility and look great – whether wavy or straight!

Dark brown to blond ombre

How would you describe this look?

I created this rooted look with a combination of baby light and balayage. Baby-light is just a hairdressing concept for very finely woven highlights and should give you a similar look as the sun-drenched highlights that you would get as a child. Balayage is a hand painting technique that creates a melted look from dark to light when used. For most of this cut, I've used a shaving technique to give it a soft texture and really showcase the color.

My favorite part of the whole project was to give her a vivid color that made her feel brighter and brighter. The beach waves were generated with a flat iron and completed with Oribe texturing spray. If you have not tried this product yet, you are seriously missing it. It creates effortless texture and volume in no time at all for fine-haired girls: this is your new best friend!

Any advice for someone considering it?

This customer of mine, as seen in the picture, had already been balaged twice before this final transformation. Her hair was dyed dark brown before it got blond, so we had to trust the process and take it slow to protect the integrity of her hair.

My biggest advice to those who want to get brighter: Be 100% honest with your stylist about your color history and take it slowly. Trust the process. Raising virgin hair is pretty easy, but when you lift through old colors (professional and boxing dyes), it can be unpredictable. If you take it slowly, your hair will stay healthy and will not compromise.

Normally I send all my customers home with professional care products to ensure the longevity and health of the hair. Any hair type can achieve this look over time, but do not be surprised if you have thick, dark hair, you probably will not come to a frosty blond color in a service.

This color is inhabited, which means that you can stay a few months without much, and it will still look seamless. The cut can be achieved with straight hair up to really curly hair. It has minimal layers for extra movement and face-frame pieces to suit any face shape. No matter what texture, but you are petting it, this color and the cut combination are perfect for all your easy-care girls and guys out there!

Blue Ombre

How would you describe this look?

This look is minimalist yet stylish and dimensional through the color and layers.

One of my favorite pieces of this look is the dark blue ombre, which blends seamlessly into the dark roots. Darker roots allow regrowth to be less obvious, thus reducing grooming. In addition, since it is in a darker shade, the color lasts longer and even if it fades, it will fade beautifully. Dark blue is one of the coolest shades ever.

Any advice for someone considering it?

If you are dark-haired and want a very easy-care look, this beautiful dark blue ombre can definitely be one of your inspirations. You do not necessarily dye your entire head to achieve that look. I will also recommend this to clients with strict office wear, as this subtle dark blue ombre definitely does not stand out in the eyes of HR.

Brown Ombre

How would you describe this look?

I've created this reverse ombre with a color fusion technique, from its natural blond mixed colors to the darkest brown. The cut consists of long layers, which are designed with Biolage thermal active spray and a large curling iron.

Any advice for someone considering it?

This color is perfect for a natural blonde who desires a dramatic change without much care.

Dark brown ombre

This kind of curly ombre makes a bold change from rich chocolate to some caramel swirls. And honestly, we live for it.

Rose gold ombre on dark hair

Balayage hair helps in changing the color, especially in this dark to light. Pink hairs with ashen tones still stand out, while radiating a relaxed atmosphere.

Violet ombre

Violet hair is a simple and creative way to express yourself. A gray transition to rich violet and purple strands screams impudence.

Gray Ombre

Stylist Aubrey has set himself instagram-worthy hair goals! A smooth transition from dark to light gray hair gives the hair excellent color quality.

Balayage Ombre

Biscuits and cream in a creamy consistency! With dark roots and bright ends, it is usually the safest way to explore the hair color. Besides, it is really easy to wait!

Red Ombre

Funny and sexy, like burning passion! Be an instant eye-catcher with silky scarlet ombre.

Backlight to dark Ombre

Soft waves that begin at the nape of the neck can create a smoother transition from light to dark. Here we have a dark caramel to black ombre.

Inverted blonde to dark ombre

The deeper the color, the better! A silky light to dark fade that enchants wonderfully.

Short dark ombre hair color

Yes, you can still make Ombre on a Pixie cut! And with this color change, I'm sure he'll look unique.

20 remarkable dark ombre hair color ideas

[pumpkin-spice-bun]

Far From Home

“Day 730 of quarantine. Lilian, your alarm went off five times already. Get up and report for daily reassessments.”

“How about no?” The girl was immediately thrown out of her bed, feeling every joint in her body snap and crackle as she slammed into the wall. 

“Report to the medical bay. Now.”

“Yes, HLN.” Lilian responded as dull as the AI’s voice. She smoothed out her hair and zipped up her jumpsuit in irritation. Everyday was an endless cycle; medical re-record, repair the quarantine ship, update and manually repair the internal systems, clean the entire ship, rinse and repeat. The same routine every day for two years with the security robots and Henry. At least he never changed...

“Lilian, female, age 20, species, Homo sapiens. Born on Earth to two parents, Rose and Timothy. Brown hair and blue eyes remain unchanged. Blood pressure is lower than normal, as expected. Height is 5 feet 7 inches. Weight is 120 pounds, lower than expected.” The med bay report was updated during the walk. It was supposed to take a few minutes but Lilian had managed to stretch it to a solid five if the AI was distracted. A sharp object was jabbed into her spine, “Get moving. You have multiple health tests and ship repairs to do before you can rest.” Today was not one of those days...

“Lilian, why are you here, on this ship?”

“Because I have been claimed to be sick by the forces of the Infinity Guard.” Another jab.

“No, you are sick. This is so you will get better before you are sent back to your home planet and rejoin society as a whole. Lilian, would you please tell me what you are sick with?”

She was not allowed to answer until she was strapped into a chair in the med bay, or dungeon as she called it.

“I don’t know. I’m not-“ Her words were cut off by a sharp jolt of electricity starting from her ankles. 50 volts, only gets worse from here.

“Try again”

“I don’t kno-“ 500

“Again”

“I’m telling you, I don’t-“ 1,000, stand your ground Lily. You can do this.

“Final try.”

“I’M NOT SICK!” 50,000 volts through the leg. 

“Failure to report sickness. This has been going on for nearly two years Lilian. To correct you, you have been diagnosed with improper behavior caused by a failure to produce sufficient neurological chemicals, including Serotonin and Dopamine. Report to the cafeteria for breakfast. Nutrient gruel with mineral enhanced water, both calculated for your body weight. You will have five minutes to eat once you get there.”

Lilian barely managed to lift her weight onto her stinging leg while she was pushed along by the security robots. S.A.M.E.S. they were called, all identical with no defining traits, fitting for them... Three minutes to the cafeteria, as always, with less food than before, if it could even be called that. The same tasteless gruel every day, two times a day, with five bottles of water throughout. None of her needed medications were allowed. 

“Five minutes have started.” Rang the AI, clear as day with no emotion. Each second seemed to drag on while Lilian pokes at the excuse for food in front of her. It had been two years since she had anything close to normal food. No more sweet fruits or homemade meals. Everything had to be portioned according to her body, but she always had less to eat with each passing day. “Time is up. Failure to complete 250 grams of gruel. Total calorie intake: 0.” It wasn’t worth eating anyway...

Eight hours later it was back to the cafeteria. There was no damage done to the outside of the ship, so Helen decided on her own programming that her prisoner was to work overtime readjusting the internal wires of the ship. At barely 10 feet tall, 20 yards wide, and 30 yards long, the prison would hardly constitute as a home. Even the beautiful stars outside seemed dull in comparison after two years.

“Lily!” Henry... always excited about something... Lilian managed a meek smile as the orbital robot zipped over to her. He was part of a robot line created for insanity avoidance, but he was now the closest thing she had to a companion who actually cared about her. A part of the robot line, named KVN’s, his branch was allocated to prisoners in quarantine prisons, dedicated to the care and recovery before they were sent back into society, the official name being HNY. Not once had he annoyed her to the point of violence, which was a plus. “Henry...” 

“Did you look outside? The X-23 nebula looks great today! I also managed to find some more pictures of Terran wildlife, foxes, wolves, and badgers included! Oo! And there’s a clear shot of Ursa Minor right over there!” He pointed out the small window and sure enough, the tiny star was visible ever so slightly against the mass ocean of glimmering lights. North, we’re facing north right now. Henry looked back over and the joy vanished from his one, expressive robotic eye. “Again?” The ration was untouched once more. “I’m fine, Henry. I’m not hungry.”

“Lily, you’re losing weight and not in a good way. I can see your ribs!” Sure enough, the bones poked through the layers of skin and clothing, easily nudged aside by the small metal hand. “Not even a tiny bit?”

“No.”

“After all the hard work you did today?”

“I mean it, I’m not hungry.”

Henry floated closer to her in defeat, gently wrapping his arms around her. “Just try to eat something next time, ok? I don’t want you actually getting sick.” 

“I’m going to be fine. I promise.” 

Suddenly the lights flickered out and everything went black.

“Lily! LILY! Get up, please! We gotta go, Infinity Guard troops are on their way!” Henry’s voice barely managed to get to her. Lilian sat up slowly, blinking dirt and blood out of her eyes. “Wh- what?”

“We were attacked. Something shot the ship out of orbit and we crashed into a nearby planet’s surface. The ship is gone, but I managed to save your stuff and get you out. But we have to get going! Can you stand up?”

Lily struggled to her feet, wiping more blood away from her eyes. “I didn’t think we were close to a planet. Do you think it’s habitable?” 

“Probably. You can breathe safely so there must be something, right?”

“Right. Something carbon based could be alive...”

“Heh, you never changed even after all that. Bleeding from your head, slightly starved and you can still think straight. Same old-“ A sharp electric shock took out the robot, causing him to fall along with the small box of Lily’s belongings. They hadn’t gone a few feet. At the same time, something whacked the back of Lily’s knees, knocking her down again before she could register the pain. Her vision darkened again as she managed to pick up someone talking. “Congratulations, you are being rescued. Please do not resist, despite the name of the Resistance.”

It might have been hours before Lily woke up again in another metallic room. Barely two minutes of freedom and already back in a ship, just her luck. At least she had her old clothes though.

Back in familiar jeans and flannel shirt, she waltzed out of the room, rubbing a growing bruise on her elbow from a needle, seemed to be from a fluid bag of some kind. “Hey, she’s ok!”

“HUE, you can’t just knock someone out and expect them to be perfect! You could’ve killed her!”

“My apologies, I have yet to get used to having a corporal form.”

‘Three people, all male. At least one robot, seemingly an artificial intelligence. Then two organics, a teenager and a-‘ Her thoughts were cut off when she saw what they were, or at least the adult. A human, another, breathing human, well two anyway. A feline-esque  creature, the teenager, nearly tackled her over. ‘He has fur! Actual fur! It looks so soft!’ At least that seemed to be the case, something different than years of endless contact with metal. 

“Uh, what are you doing?” It took a minute for Lily to realize she was in fact petting the cat, technically Ventrexian. 

“...sorry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper while she slinked back. ‘Wait, that was wrong. Right? Did I do that right?’

”Hey, Newbie!” ‘Newbie?’ “Welcome to the Crimson Light, I’m KVN, everyone here loves me. Hey, you wanna do Jell-O shots with some sludge I found? We’re going to be best friends! But it’s like this rainbow sludge or something, it looks super cool, kinda like the brain goo I found that one time.” ‘Shut up. Shut up shut up SHUT UP!’ 

——

“Lily? You ok? You just booked it out of nowhere... the crew has been looking everywhere for you, they thought they did something wrong.” Henry. Just as it always was, just a robot for a companion. 

“I... I really did that?”

“Yeah. You just screamed at the other bot and then hightailed out of there like a bat out of hell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so scared.”

Her hands shook as she held onto one of the robotic arms, terrified of nothing but everything at the same time. She had scuttled into an old air vent with no light and no warmth, just cold metal hardly four feet tall going back as far as the eye could see.

“There’s a little bit of food left in the kitchen if you wanted it, no one's there. I actually found some cookies in there, oatmeal chocolate chip! Your favorite!”

Surrounded by steel, Lily had long started to fall asleep to the robot’s excited blabber.

[cddump]

Again (Sitting Seven)

“Young Casper, is everything okay? Are you in need of assistance?” Chandra held his arm out to Casper, who had finished his laughing fit. He took hold of Chandra's hand and stood, still panting from his run. “It's fine. All you need to know is that I have an overactive imagination. And I'm out of shape.” “What's going on?” Ash placed the plate of apple slices on her computer desk. “Oh, habibi, have you been taking your medication?” Chandra handed the orange bottle to her. “I found this one in my office so I became worried.” “I'm taking them. I thought I lost them so I went to get another refill. It was a pain in the ass, but I manged to get them fine.” “I'll just be going now,” Casper said. He wanted to get out as soon as possible and was already inching towards the door. “Wait, why did you burst in here?” Casper sighed. “I thought...I don't know. I thought you forgot those meds and that they were like...” he trailed off. How could he say he thought she was going to commit suicide? “I was just worried.” “What, did you think I was gonna off myself or something? They're just anxiety pills. They help with panic attacks and stuff.” “Yeah well, I didn't know that.” Casper reached the door and walked through when he heard Ash's footsteps rush up to him. Oh boy, here we go. Sure enough, she grabbed his arm and spoke up. “Wait! Wait wait, did you really think I'd try and kill myself?” Chandra easily pulled Ash off of Casper, “Now habibi. Young Casper was just worried and was being a good neighbor. Do not read into it too deeply.” “But dad! We have a real connection! I can feel it!” “That's what you said about the last person that moved in. And you ended up driving them out with your antics.”

“Wait, what?” Casper turned around to face the two. “What do you mean she ending up 'driving them out?' “D-don't worry about that!” Ash said as Chandra sighed to himself. “Look, Casper's already made it farther than the other guy did! And Casper's single.” “No I'm not,” Casper lied, “I have a girlfriend.” Ash's face went pale. “W-why didn't you say that in the first place?!” It was a pathetic lie, but if it kept her out of Casper's hair for a while he'd be able to live with it. “What's her name, then?” “Now habibi, don't pry into Casper's personal life like this.” “Zoey,” Casper said, pulling up the first name he could think of. Well, the second name, actually. The first name was his sister's, and he wasn't about to claim to be dating his sister. “Zoey? You mean the girl on your lock screen?” “That's right. W-why do you think she's on my lock screen?” “I thought it was because it was your sister's picture...But why didn't you mention you two were dating when you showed me the picture the first time?” Shit! “Ah...well, you know...” Casper covered his face from view with both hands. “It's embarrassing, you know? I can't talk about her with a straight face so I tried to brush her off!” Ash wasn't having any of it. “If that's the case then why'd you move here instead of with her and your sister?! It doesn't make--” Chandra stepped in. “Now now, habibi. Young Casper has his reasons for his decisions. Speaking of which, now that I see you're fine with your medication, Casper and I have a few last things to discuss about his staying here. Would you join me outside, Casper?” Casper only nodded a silent thank you for the escape. Once more, Casper found himself in the hallway, three floors above Ash's room. The afternoon light had already begun to evaporate, and in its place were the slowly darkening skies. There was just a sliver of sunlight reaching past the horizon and though there was enough visible light left, the hallways were already illuminated by the automated ceiling lights. This was now Casper's home but the artificially lit hallway reminded him more of a hotel than a long-lasting living space. “Correct me if I'm wrong, young Casper,” Chandra said, “but you are not currently in a relationship, are you?” Casper looked towards the stairway, making sure Ash hadn't followed them. “No. Sorry I lied. Don't tell her, alright?” “I understand. My poor habibi has an overbearing personality at times. We've tried to talk to her but nothing's gone through. Maybe we should just accept her for who she is instead of trying to change her. Either way, I hope you can still get along with her.” Casper couldn't help but smile. “I think I've seen the worst of her at this point, so that should be fine...Or rather, I hope I've seen the worst of her.” Casper heard a soft whirring noise outside. Looking up, he saw a drone fly near the apartment building. “Are those things popular here? I saw one yesterday too.” “Hmm?” Chandra followed Casper's gaze. “Ah, the flying drone? No, though I do believe I see one flying around every so often. It would be fair to say there is probably one enthusiast in the city, but nothing beyond that.” “Oh. Alright. Hey, did you actually need to talk to me about something or was that just to help me get out of Ash's room?” “Hmm? Ah yes. Did you sign the papers this morning?” “Yeah. Gary should have them, I think.” “Then everything is perfect, young Casper. Please enjoy your stay. Here, allow me to give you small gift to welcome you.” Chandra pulled out his wallet and produced a small slip of purple paper folded into an envelope before handing it to Casper. “What's this?” Casper asked as he undid the flap. Inside was a plastic card, the same shade of purple as the envelope in came in. Written on it were two words in whimsical font: Coff-Coff. “It's a gift card for the coffee shop down the street. It isn't much, I'll admit—only five dollars—but I always feel the need to get something like this for people moving in. Considering your insomnia, I hope it does not offend you that I chose a coffee shop. I did so without realizing, you see. If it's a problem I can replace it with something else. Or perhaps a different--” “No no, this is fine! Really, don't worry about it. Thanks, Chandra. I appreciate it. In fact, I think I'm feeling a little thirsty right about now.” “Oh! Yes yes of course, please by all means! I have a few things I must take care of as well. Please take care, young Casper. Night is falling, after all!” A few seconds after Casper pressed the elevator's call button, the doors slid open for him. A pair of blue eyes looked up at him. “Oh, good evening,” the man said, “I haven't seen you before. Are you visiting someone?” The man standing in the elevator was tall and lean with pale skin and spoke in a British accent. He wore a dress shirt and slacks, and his black shoes shone in the elevator's light. Casper rubbed his fingers through his black hair, comparing it to the man's light brown hair. He was clean shaven while Casper sported stubble from his already growing beard. The fact Casper wore a a simple v neck shirt and hoodie with jeans while the other man was dressed in a more formal manner made Casper feel as if he was inadequately dressed. He stepped into the elevator. “N-no. No, I just moved in last night. Do you live here too?” “No. I was visiting my cousin, but he seems to be out, which is rare. I even checked the roof as he likes to spend some time there, but found nothing. Ground floor?” “Yeah, thanks.” Casper noted the man had already pressed that particular button as the doors began to close. “So who's your cousin, if you don't mind me asking?” “He lives on the first floor. Maybe you've met him, his name is Alexander.” Casper stared at the man, shocked. “You're related to him?! But you're so normal!” The man laughed. “Yes, I get that a lot. Alexander is...very eccentric and pursues strange hobbies.” “Hobbies, huh?” The man laughed quietly to himself but said nothing for a few seconds. Casper expected him to talk about Alex but instead said a single word that surprised him again. “Insomnia?” “Wh...what?” “I'm asking if you have insomnia. I can see the dark circles in your eyes despite looking as if you've slept more than the majority of the day.” “...Just a rough night's sleep.” “More like a rough couple of year's worth of sleep, but if you say so. I won't pry any further. My name is Richard, by the way. Richard Cain.” He held out his hand, which Casper hesitantly shook. “Casper Donn. Local insomniac.” Richard laughed again as the elevator reached the ground floor and opened once more. “Where are you off to then, Casper?” “This place called Coff-Coff.” He held up the gift card in between to fingers to show Richard. “Every been there?” “Yes I have. In fact, that was my next stop. Would you like me to join you?” Casper looked Richard over once more. They seemed to come from two different worlds; Richard dressed as if he was ready to head into a party while Casper looked as if he was about to get busted for smoking weed. “...Should I get changed first? What's the atmosphere like?” “Hm? Oh! No no, please you're fine as-is! If anything I'm over dressed. I'm just very used to this type of attire.” The pair walked passed the the security office where Gary eyed them for a moment before returning to his book. Casper could clearly see Gary had placed a Japanese manga over the book's pages and pretended to read the book while secretly reading his graphic novel instead. “I work at the local bank, you see. I spend a lot of time there and my closet has been filled with more dress-wear than casual clothing before I had realized it.” “Oh. Well, at least you're always looking fly, right?” Richard chuckled again as he exited the apartment building. Darkness had taken over the town, and the concrete walkway leading out of the lot was brightened by lamps that dotted the area. Casper looked towards the sky but saw only darkness. There were no stars to be seen in the city. Instead he brought his gaze forward. The streets were bathed in artificial light and the noises of passing cars in the distance filled the air. “So where do you work, if you don't mind me asking? Did you have a job lined up in this city before moving in?” “Huh? Oh, I uh, make a webcomic called Animals! Deluxe.” Richard rubbed his chin. “I'm sorry to say I haven't read it.” This time it was Casper's turn to laugh. “Don't worry about it. To be honest it'd be even weirder if someone like you had said you were a big fan of it.” “Is that so?” “You don't seem like the kind of person who'd read cutesy comics, you know?” “And you don't seem like the kind of person to produce cutesy comics. You seem a bit more on the rougher side.” “That's just me being grumpy from not getting any sleep.” “Speaking of. I find it hard to believe an insomniac would go to a coffee shop, much less during the night.” “I like hot chocolate,” Casper defended himself.