#proper iconic shit right there y'know?!

[ignorant-rat-carcass]

So yeah.... pretty amazing to see all this in person!

I mean, it was a 30 minute drive from my house so would be kinda rude not to, eh! 😁

[fluorescencefuture]

Homestuck^2: How I’d write the Omega Kids (and the Candy timeline villains)

I haven't reread Homestuck nor the epilogues in a while so correct me if I'm wrong with anything here. This was all in one go, too, so I probably missed something here or there. I'm also not a native English speaker so pardon some grammar errors.

In General

I’d give them a five-letter name scheme. Names of a group being the same length was a big deal in original HS (human first names had four letters, troll names had six, Ancestors had eight-letter titles, Cherubs had eight letters too, etc.), so it’s odd seeing this new group have names of varying length

I’d also give them all shirt symbols. It’s odd that something so iconic to Homestuck isn’t present in the new kids, either.

I'll write for both the canon post-canon with evil Jane and for my own version with different villains. Evil Jane happens because a highblood troll who hears of the old ways of Alternia attempts to kill her and take her crown, as she's technically the heiress. Jane wins, but she starts to see trolls and Alternian culture in a different light from then on. At first she was only trying to prevent the worst parts of Alternian culture from coming back, but over time grew to despise trolls, and ended up trying to force human culture onto Alternians.

The other Candy villains are a dangerous terrorist rebel group that wants to overthrow the creators and destroy them. They say the creators made the people, abandoned the people for years, then suddenly came back and decided they control the people. The group is made of humans, trolls, carapacians, and even consorts. The mysterious shadowed leader claims to be doing this for the people, but really, all they want is to have control for themselves, and they don't care if any innocents get in the way.

Harry Anderson

Has nothing to fix, he’s perfect as is

Okay but seriously, the guy is the kid with the least questionable things around him. He has no baggage from sharing the same name as an established character (ICP Harry Anderson doesn’t count), and he didn’t come from infidelity.

He also has actual color to his personality. He likes musicals and sewing. He has a good relationship with his dad. Like many kids with divorced parents, he wishes his parents were together again. What do the others have? Vrissy is just a slightly less aggressive Vriska. Tavros is just OG Tavros and Jake combined. Yiffy’s thing is being a dog girl named Yiffany Longstocking. The others could be fleshed out eventually, but with the slow pace and meandering plot we have right now, I doubt it.

If Jane's the villain, things would mostly go the same way. If Jane isn't the villain, it goes two ways: he decides to join Vrissy's guerilla anti-anti-creator group and fight because he wants to protect his parents, or he's just very anti-conflict and avoids the fight because he doesn't think he's up to it. He's frequently threatened but doesn't tell his parents about the threats. Eventually, he gets convinced to join and fight.

Vrissy

So Vrissy’s in relationships with guys who are technically her cousins. At first I was like “well, they’re not biologically related nor were they raised as family so it’s not weird”. But then Tavros called Kanaya “Aunt Kanaya” and now I’m thinking “oh god, that’s really weird”.

Now she’s just a troll girl from school. She's just close to Kanaya and Rose, but isn’t their kid. She isn’t related to anyone. Anyone except Vriska, who she was named after. Vrissy’s new nickname is just Vriss.

Alternatively, her name is something completely different. Honestly, it just seemed like a way to shoehorn in a Vriska for the story. Only for actual Vriska to come back anyway.

Uhh, Eshtha (from Jyeshtha, a Hindu nakshatra Scorpius is associated with)? Oriona (from Orion, the myth where Scorpius is mostly attributed to)? Naiaka (from Manaiakalani, as Hawaiians saw Scorpius as the demigod Maui’s fishhook)? Oh wait, I’ll have to make nicknames for those names too. Uh, Eshty, Riona, and Naiah.

Maybe have her have a personality that’s rather opposite to Vriska’s than have her as Vriska 2. She's more a perky goth, more cheerful and sweet. More "I knew you could do it!" than "So you can do something after all." A beast in battle, of course. She doesn't like to use her mind control powers, because she finds them disturbing.

If Vriska had to come back, the conflict would come from their conflicting personalities. Vriska would pretty much act the same way she did to (Vriska), but this time, Vriss doesn't take any of it and stands her ground.

Whether the villain is Jane or not, she's the one who decides to fight back, and she gets her friends and others to join her. The creators have been nothing but good to her, and she cares about them a lot, especially Rose and Kanaya. Not to mention they're also her friends' parents.

Tavros

Yeah, we’re gonna have to rename that kid. It never made sense to me why Jake and Jane named their kid after some guy they don’t know that well. I don’t remember everything from the Epilogues, but I’ll assume the reason was Gamzee or something. Also weird that Jane, who’s supposed to be racist to trolls, would just...let her kid be named after one.

Something old-ish would work. Flynn? Silas? Avery? Clyde? Niles? Louie?

He's moirails with this Vriss instead of kismeses. The Vrissy/Tavros kismesis also felt like re-hashing the kismesis that Vriska and OG Tavros kinda had.

If we went post-canon villain Jane, he'd be reluctant to join the rebellion and is more of a pacifist who would rather try to talk his mom out of it.

Alternatively, Jane and Jake are separated (but not divorced) and he lives with Jake. Because Jane was never terrible to him and Jake doesn't tell him how bad she's gotten, he disagrees with her but still tries to justify and rationalize that Jane's really doing it from a place of good intentions.

If the villain isn't Jane, then Jane and Jake have been hiding him away, and his friends can only see him when they visit him at his swanky home. You might say he's...housetrapped. He joins because his friends are in it, and doesn't quite grasp how serious things are until the rebels try to kill Jane (the rebels try to kill Jane first because you always kill the healer first).

He's in contact with a mysterious guide who's kinda spacy and a little terrifying at times. His friends think the guide might just be some creepy predator. It's revealed to be Candy Gamzee, out of the fridge and legitimately harmless, but untraceable and doing mysterious things behind the black. Again.

Come to think of it, Dirk's missing too...

Yiffany Longstocking

Yiffy is now the ectokid of Dave and Jade. She looks more like a DaveJade kid than JadeRose, really. Dave and Jade are also either happily married or coming close to an amicable divorce. Yeah, the toxic shit Jade did and the erasure of Dave's bisexuality also don't exist here. Jade, Dave, Karkat, and Terezi are backing Vrissy's anti-anti-creator group.

Her new name is something unisex. Riley? Logan? Robin? Sloan? Salem?

She spends a lot of time outside doing sports and doesn't talk much. She's not very close to the other three kids, but she's surprisingly pretty close to her Aunt Rose.

While Jade and Dave are out on a mission for Karkat (this is the mission Candy Dave dies), she gets kidnapped by the opposing force (Jane/the terrorists). She gets a shock collar forced on her, then is hidden away in a Boarding School for Inconvenient Girls, enrolled under the name "Yiffany Longstocking". Jade comes home to find that her family's been taken from her. Again.

Yiffy almost escapes, but she gets knocked out and taken back to base, where they lock her in a cage and treat her like a dog. She's still defiant to the end.

If Jane's the villain, Jake is inspired by Yiffy's defiance, grows some balls, exposes Yiffy's treatment to the press, and sets her free. She beats up the guards trying to stop her. Jake gets surrounded by more guards. In response, he pulls out his pistols and a one-liner, and bam, cliffhanger.

If it's the terrorist group, Terezi picks up on Yiffy's scent when they're in a base, and she's saved by the other three kids, where she immediately turns around and beats the crap out of the guards. They become proper friends from there.

The reunion panel still happens and this time it's her reuniting with her loving mother and aunt instead of...y'know.

BONUS: Sadstuck

Harry gets his own “im not a hero” speech after trying and “failing” to be the hero that John was

Vriss is eventually forced to use her mind control powers. It’s either a “Katara using bloodbending" situation, or she forces her friends to leave her behind when they want to stick by her.

Tavros finally witnesses his mother’s true nature when Jake defeats all the guards, but is stabbed from behind by Jane and killed. In the other version, it seems Jane is finally safe and able to come home to her son. Then she’s killed right in front of him.

After the big hug with Jade and Rose, Yiffy pulls away. She smiles, looks around behind them, and asks “Where’s Dad?”

So, please tell me what you think!

[mewtonian-physics]

30 days of autism acceptance except i haven't been doing it so you get 15 all at once

April 1st: Introduce yourself. Talk about who you are as a person. Your age, hobbies, special interests, family, etc. Anything you feel comfortable sharing.

I'm Penny, I'm 19, I love cats and writing and music and my brain skips from fixation to fixation like a rock on the surface of a pond. BUT special interests are law and Sherlock Holmes. I have a lot of siblings that I picked out myself and one sibling that I didn't but we don't talk about him. When I die I'm going to become a ghost and go around the world playing everyone's pianos

April 2nd: Post your redinstead photos today. Alternatively, you could talk about what autistic pride/autism acceptance month means to you.

I don't post photos but I think that autistic pride is great. Like yeah, I have problems with my autism sometimes, but also it literally shapes my personality so... That's Me. And I'm going to be proud of that not self-hating about it thank you

April 3rd: How do you feel about dating/romantic relationships? Have you dated in the past/are you currently in a relationship/do you eventually want one? Do you feel that your experience of autism/stereotypes around autism and relationships impacts this?

I would like to have a girlfriend someday... I don't really care about the stereotypes, I don't pay attention to them.

April 4th: Are there any topics regarding autism that you feel don’t get discussed enough?

did you mean: autism in general

April 5th: What was school like for you, or what is it currently like for you if you are still in school? Elementary, high school, post-secondary?

I'm one of those kings who got homeschooled because my parents knew everyone would torment me in public school. But I did go to a co-op for a while and that was pretty cool mostly. I met my best friend there who is ALSO an autistic icon. Now I am in college and it sure is an experience but it's not a bad one.

April 6th: Are you able to drive? If so, was it difficult to learn? What was difficult about it? If not, do you use any alternatives?

I am not but I plan to try and learn soon.

April 7th: How are you with sarcasm and/or metaphors/figures of speech? Do you interpret things very literally?

Sarcasm my beloved! I use it so much. Metaphors too, but a lot of the time they make no sense to anyone except me. And yet somehow I still take things literally a majority of the time... Sarcasm for me, not for thee.

April 8th: Talk about friendship. How important are friends to you? Do you find it hard to make and maintain friendships? Are your friends generally supportive? Is there anything about having friends that confuses you?

I love having friends. Genuinely makes me insane when my friends are loving and supportive of me. Unfortunately I have no idea when someone counts as a friend so I just sort of fake it until I make it and then have difficulty maintaining it because I don't know the proper amount of communication or other such things that I should engage in. Which kinda sucks. My autistic friends are great though because we can have conversations consisting entirely of sending fanart of a single character back and forth for an hour. Allistics wish they were us.

April 9th: How has the pandemic impacted you? Has it changed routines? Do you like or dislike masks? What do you wish allistics and neurotypicals knew/understood about how the pandemic is impacting autistic people?

Well, in terms of autism, the pandemic has been... interesting. My hand sanitizer usage has of course increased drastically. I like masks because I don't like being perceived. I love to be unknown. I wish people knew they're annoying the hell out of me with their scaremongering, inability to use logic, and anti-vax sentiments. Not This Shit Again.

April 10th: How important is representation to you? Is the representation that is out there generally good or bad? What is your favorite piece of representation? What you like to see more of in autism representation? What would you like to see less of?

I loooooove representation. Unfortunately there's not a whole lot of canon autistic representation and when there is I find it usually sucks, but I take my icons. Sherlock Holmes is autistic and you can never tell me otherwise. Data from Star Trek may be an android but he's still autistic as fuck. I want more positive representation and less 'the poor autistic person trapped inside their own body' bullshit.

April 11th: What are your thoughts/feelings about masking (a term for when autistic people hide their autistic traits)? Do you mask?

I hate that anyone has to, but yes, I do mask a lot because otherwise I get treated like shit. I don't hate allistic people, I just think they could at least try to act a little autistic sometimes...

April 12th: Is there anything you find hard to do because of being autistic? Is there anything that you find easy?

I LOGIC EVERYTHING. Plus I'm very good at making connections other people tend to miss. On the other hand, sensory overload leaves me in hell on a worryingly regular basis. Plus, well, y'know. Socializing.

April 13th: How much preparation and planning do you need before doing new things, or even for familiar things? Do you need to be totally prepared ahead of time or are you more comfortable with being spontaneous/just going for it? Does it vary for you depending on the thing or the day?

PREPARE ME FOR NEW THINGS OR ELSE. If it's familiar I can be more spontaneous about it but I hate having new things sprung on me. My parents always used to try and get me to do things without telling me what and it was really upsetting. Glad they cut that shit out.

April 14th: What do you like about being autistic?

I like that it makes me very cool and funny and smart. I like being able to logic things other people can't. I like how I view the world. I like a lot of things.

April 15th: Do you work? If so, what is that like for you? Are you open about being autistic at work? Alternatively, how open are you about being autistic? Do you tell a lot of people? Or just a select few? How do people normally react when you tell them? If you don’t tell people, then why?

I'm just trying to deal with college right now. I'm usually pretty open about being autistic because that way I can spot the ableists right away. I refuse to hide who I am because of some assholes who don't know how to deal with anyone who isn't like them. Most people ask a lot of questions, but it's largely fine.

[ambivalent-anarchy]

Star Wars 101

Masterlist

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: None

Reader has never seen a single one of Peter's favorite movies.

A/N- I really need to stop making new series lol, I swear this is the last new one for a while, at least until I finish some other ones.

Hope you like it!!!

---------------------------------------

"In case I don't see you... good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight!"

Peter watched you intently as you stared, wide eyes glued to each and every movement on the screen, even sniffling a bit when the credits began to roll. Really? The Truman Show was making you tear up?

"[Y/N], really?," he snickered lightly, wiping one of your cheeks and then showing you the wetness on his finger. He gave a teasing smile as he moved to take the DVD out. "I understood when you cried during the Titanic, but this is just The Truman Show."

"Don't judge me!," you scolded, cheeks quickly becoming red with embarrassment. "It was frickin' sad! The dude's been stuck in a tv show his whole life and he didn't even know it! That's freaky!"

"It's a Jim Carrey movie," Peter laughed. "How can you cry at a Jim Carrey movie?"

You rolled your eyes and turned away, trying to hide your growing grin. Who was Peter Parker to judge you on how you react to movies anyway? At least this was just a movie. Peter got flustered with everything in real life!

"-And a movie as crappy as this particular Jim Carrey movie too!," he smirked.

You turned around with a loud, overdramatic gasp. "What was that, Parker? Did you just call one of my favorite movies CRAPPY?!"

Peter turned from the DVD player with a small, innocent smile and nodded his head vigorously before sprinting away as he predicted that you would chase after him.

He was right.

"How dare you!," you yelled, quickly jumping into action. "Jim Carrey may be a bit of an overacter, but he's still AWESOME!!"

You were high on adrenaline, running after him with all you had, but it didn't take you long for you to realize that chasing Peter in his own house was a bad idea. It was his home. He knew it like the back of his hand. And you, however, did not.

You bumped into every other corner. The more you ran the more bruises you were probably getting. Until finally after hitting your hip on the kitchen counter, frustrated, you squeezed your eyes shut tight and yelled out, "YOU DON'T HEAR ME JUDGING YOUR CRAPPY STAR WARS MOVIES!!!"

You hadn't seen where he came from or how he got you, but in an instant, Peter was smack dab in your face. "What did you just say?"

Quickly coming to a stop, the corners of your mouth twitched upwards, knowing you'd just hit a nerve. "I said, you don't hear me judging your crappy star wars movies."

He stared, stunned, for a second. ".. you did not just say that," he whispered, more to himself than to you. He turned towards you. "You did not just call one of the best franchises in the universe crappy."

You turned away with a smirk before he gently grabbed you by your arm and whirled you back around. "[Y/N]. Star Wars is ICONIC!"

You rolled your eyes with a light giggle and turned to walk away before you were whirled around again. His eyes looked right into yours, his face holding an extremely serious expression, which of course was nothing but hilarious to you. "Dude, I'm NOT letting you leave this kitchen before you give me a valid reason why Star Wars is bad to you."

You sighed loudly. So he's holding you hostage now, is he? Well, two could play at that game. "Not until you tell me why The Truman Show was so bad," you shot back.

Unfortunately for you, Peter was ready with his reasons.

You stared, dumbfounded as he read them off. "Predictable. Took too long to get where it was trying to go. When it finally got there, it didn't give an actual satisfying ending! Did Sylvia find him after that or not?! And what point was the movie trying to make about the world anyway? That really wasn't clear. Also, I couldn't tell whether some parts were funny or them just trying too hard to be serious. Should I go on?"

"N-no no, you're good," you chirped, your voice cracking a bit. "Didn't know you were such a harsh critic, Pete."

"And your reasons?," Peter asked with a shit-eating grin. He knew you didn't have any.

You scrunched your eyebrows together and stared up to the ceiling. "Umm," you mumbled before you blurted out. "It just seems like classic NERD crap, honestly okay?!?!?!"

Peter dramatically threw his hand to his chest, as if he'd been stabbed. "Ah, you hurt me, babe. How could you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Can we just go back to watching movies, Pete?! My hip frickin' hurts." You shifted slightly while rubbing the your hip with your hand, trying to relieve the pain. Peter noticed and immediately the previous topic of conversation was dropped.

"A-are you okay?! C'mon, let's go sit down.."

You breathed a breath of relief. Thankfully, a dumbass situation stopped due to Peter's relentless helpfulness and need to be a gentleman.

-

An hour later and you were watching Mean Girls now, something both you and Peter could agree on, especially after he'd told you he'd never seen it before.

And how could he have never seen Mean Girls? It was ICONIC!

"Gretchen, stop trying to make fetch happen. It's NOT going to happen..."

"I don't like this Regina character," Peter mumbled as he reached for more popcorn.

"You wouldn't," you chuckled softly.

Peter Parker was a sap and an overall nice guy. Regina George was probably not a character that he would be caught fanboying over.

"I mean," he started again, squinting his eyes at the character on the screen. "Villain characters are supposed to be BADASS. She's just rude."

You threw your head back and laughed, ruffling his hair. "Only you would think that way, Pete."

"And this Cady character," he continued. "She can't honestly think she's doing all of this and is still a good person. How is she a proper protagonist?"

You rolled your eyes and smiled. You hadn't noticed until actually watching a few movies with Peter how much of a movie critic he was. And he took it seriously. "Okay, that's enough rotten tomatoes for one movie, Pete."

Peter shrugged, rolled his eyes, and laid back on the couch. "I'm just calling it like I see it."

He kept quiet after that, just giving grunts, hums, and muttering things at choice times.

When your favorite part came along, Regina getting hit by the bus, you bit your lip with a smile. "Oooh, wait for it," you said lightly slapping Peter's shoulder excitedly. "She's gonna get it."

"So don't act all innocent! You can take that fake apology and shove it right up your hairy-"

Just as the part you were waiting for came, Peter paused the tv.

Quickly, you turned to him, eyes wide. "What'd you do that for?!?! She was gonna get smashed!"

He turned towards you, narrowing his eyes slightly. "So you've never watched Star Wars before?"

You turned to face him. "What?"

"What you said earlier... You said that it seems like nerdy crap," he explained, piecing it all together. " Seems! Meaning that you don't know for a fact meaning that you haven't watched it!"

"Are we seriously still on that,?!" you teased, your smile widening. This whole thing was beyond frivolous to you.

"Well yeah, because it's one of the greatest series ever!"

"It's predictable!"

"It is known for one of the biggest reveals in cinematic HISTORY!"

"What, the 'I-am-your-father' scene? Yeah, totally predictable."

Peter's jaw completely dropped. "Wha- how?!"

"Y'know Vader in German means father, right?," you snickered. "His name is literally Darth father." You picked up a soda, shaking your head slightly. "But yeah, if you must know... I haven't seen Star Wars."

Peter stopped responding. He just stood up and stepped away silently.

"Are you seriously mad over this?," you yelled out, watching him with a frown. "It's just a movie..."

Was he brooding right now? Over something as dumb as Star Wars? Well, you certainly weren't gonna be the person to go after him.

You whipped your head back to the screen in front of you and unpaused the movie, waiting for your friend to come back to sit next to you. It was official, Peter Parker was a nerd bitch.

As the movie went on, eventually you'd forgotten that Peter was even gone.

"The limit does not exist!"

It sucked that he left, but still though, you wouldn't rather be anywhere else. Surrounded by popcorn, pretzels, fruit, fruit roll ups, and practically any snack you could think of. Endlessly watching movies on a Saturday morning. Well, technically it was the afternoon now. But you'd lost track of time by about the sixth movie.

However, there was only so much movies could do for you. As time passed on, it started to weigh on you. You'd come there to see Peter, not Mean Girls. But if there was one thing to get on a nerd's nerves, it would be Star Wars wouldn't it?

Ugghhhhh.

After much anticipation, you finally decided to go up to his room and talk to him.

You turned to walk up the stairs and was immediately collided with a big wall.

Well not a wall, Peter.

And not just Peter. Peter with a gigantic box in his arms.

"Sorry it took me so long, didn't mean to leave you waiting. I was just just trying to find this," he said, tapping the cardboard box with his fingers. "So did you finish the movie?"

"Yeah," you said, looking at the box. "What's in it?"

"Guess I'll finish it myself later then..." He pushed past you and sat the box on the couch.

"What's in the box, Peter?," you repeated, trying to get a good look at it.

"Oh nothing," he said dramatically, taking the Mean Girls DVD out of the DVD player. "Just what will soon be the best 25 hours of your life.."

"25 hours?"

Peter smiled. "That's how long the entire Star Wars trilogy is." He picked up the box cutter. "24 hours and 52 mintues actually, if you're doing the original editions of the original trilogy instead of the special edition." He turned back towards you. "You need a movie-cation and I'm gonna give it to you."

"A movie-cation?"

"Movie education, [Y/N]."

You held your head back and laughed. "Oh my God, Pete.."

He was on his knees in front of you in a second. "C'mon!! Please, it's the best. I promise you won't regret it!"

Ugh. This was it. You were gonna do this. Force yourself through 25 (24: 52, but who's counting?) hours of boredom just to please some guy that wasn't even your boyfriend. I mean, he was practically begging you. God help you.

"Fine! Fine.. I'll watch your lame nerd movie."

---------------------------------------

@underoosjae @spn-assemble-seven @of-your-eyes-begonia-skies @parkerpeter24, @audreylovespidey706

[activatingaggro]

+, Egg Hunt, Hemostuck AU.

ICONIC CONETL | 11 SWEEPS / 24 YEARS OLDVADAYA URVATA | 11 SWEEPS / 25 YEARS OLD

2,476 words

When you round the corner of Bloomrot’s warehouse, your first impression is of two brilliant violet eyes staring at you from behind a crate, half-hidden behind dark mussed curls, right before they turn and sprint the fuck away.

You have to give it to them: they run pretty fast for a violet of their size, despite the fact they’ve got more meat on them than a butcher’s back-freezer. You’re after them in a shot, curiousity driving you forward as you skate across the air. “Here, rabbit~” you sing out, and the box on your throat vibrates, transforms the sound into something deep and brassy. “Don’t run, rabbit~”

They hit a corner and slide, their feet slipping on the wet deck. It takes them a moment. They scramble, catching themself, and something purple glints at their finger-tips -

- and there’s electricity dancing down your spine as someone’s hand clamps down hard on your horn, and you come skidding to a different kind of stop.

By the time you break away, shaking your head, the violet’s gone. And Cramel’s just looking at you, her eyes judging behind the red arch of her mask. “What,” she says, “are you doing?”

You look over your shoulder, but the dock’s empty, now.

“Chasing shadows,” you decide. “Stretching out my legs! Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Isn’t that just how it goes?”

“Siparaja~” you call out, rolling onto your back, “Sipara, ashmote, don’t just push ‘n’ go – oh, look at that, she gave me two middle fingers. That’s hopeful, don'tcha think? That shows effort!”

The second time you meet your mystery violet, it turns out, it’s because you literally fall into his lap.

As far as things go, it could have gone worse! It could’ve made for a worst view, for starters, because when Vadaya peers down at you, his face screwed into something that could generously be called 'confusion’, the shadows falling just so to illuminate those eyes of his -

- well, it’s striking, that’s all! Striking enough that you pause, eyes caught on his, until he politely clears his throat. “Ah. Are you alright?” he asks. “I see your..” His eyes skirt to the horizon, where Sipara’s rapidly disappearing down the street. “.. auspistice has left you..?”

There’s a book digging into your spine. There’s people peering down at the two of you as they walk by, and your ass is half-hanging off of the porch that Sipara had neatly shoved you into. The view is excellent, but none of this is precisely comfortable, so you roll over off of his lap. With a little concentration, when your psionics catch you, spinning you neatly onto your feet, it’s easy enough to imitate the jitter that comes with burn-out.

It’s a shame you have to, but there’s always folks watching, and you do have an image to uphold.

“Sorry about that,” you drawl. He looks better when you’re upright, as it turns out: thicker than you prefer, with features too blunt to be of any proper interest, but he’s got potential. And you’d been certain from those eyes, but when you take in those shoulders..

Well, there’s no forgetting that. “Sipara’s just spirited. Gets over-excited, y'know? Full of all that ol’ razzle-dazzle instinct~” His face is unreadable, just enough to grate, but that’s fine. You can work with it! “Just doesn’t know her own strength. But don’t let me go and distract you over something as silly as that. What’re you reading?”

“This is a journal about the science of ships.”

You grin at him, dragging a hand through your hair. “I love the ocean,” you lie easily. “Shoot, why don'tcha let me buy you a coffee, just as an apo~lo~gy, and tell me all about it?”

Seducing a troll is supposed to be easy.

You’ve never actually had to put in effort before! But seducing Vadaya, as it turns out, is a little like posturing in front of a mirror. Oh, it’s fun, but you’re not getting anything out of it. All of your usual tricks just aren’t doing shit.

When you turned up to your brunch, dripping wet from what you’d claimed was a lusus spraying water right onto you, your filmy button-up clinging to your skin, he’d just offered you his jacket.

When you’d brought him back with an offer to show him some cheesecake, he’d gone straight to the refrigerator, and then his worried, hesitant question about how you’d made this dessert had shamed you into taking him to the store instead.

Even asking him about his quadrants - your foolproof method - had just gotten him looking at you like you had smacked his lusus in front of him. Asking about his red quadrants was just supposed to be a standard sort of hint. Everyone knew what you were getting at if you started asking about matesprits, long before any hearts even came up.

Except for Vadaya, apparently.

“I don’t see any of you can even stand him. Oh, he’s smart, if you’re into books, but he’s a complete fucking idiot,” you snap at Raphae, taking a long drag of your cigarette. Shepherd doesn’t approve of you smoking inside her little control center - claims it’s bad for the biowires - but that’s why you’re just funneling the smoke into a ball in front of you. If none of it escapes, none of her precious wires can complain.

You’ve been trying to form it into a bear. But frustration’s making it into some sort of lumpy swirls, unreadable and hideous –

“Are you forming his horns? Seriously? You are. I can’t believe -” He laughs, letting his head loll back on the chair as he squints back at you. Raphae’s supposed to be working, and he’s been ignoring you for the past ten minutes in favour of his fucking computers. Or trying. “Honest to fucking god, Iconic,” he marvels, “just go pail him and get it out of your system.”

“Oh, hush that mouth of yours, you’re making it sound like I"m just about obsessed.” A beat. “And I’m not,” you snap, waspish. “He’s just - interesting. And anyone else would’ve caught a hint by now! I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here, sweetheart. Say, oh, sugarspade, I don’t think being upright’s your angle?”

“Look, babe, I’m sorry, but what, exactly, is supposed to be interesting about him?” He spins in his chair to face you, spreading out his hands in front of him. There’s still biowire dangling off of the back of the chair, where you know it’s coiled into the base of his skull. Shepherd’s one of the last surviving bioengineers on the planet, and Raphae’s little gang is the fruit of her labours.

For all that he’s looking at you, the numbers are still churning across the screens behind him, a hundred different calculations too fast for you to read. When Raphae’d heard that you pretended to burn yourself out to escape having to bother piloting, he’d laughed himself sick over it. But it’s not the same, what he does and what you’d be doing. He’s got wetware in his pan. He’s actually synched in.

You’d.. well, you don’t need them to install a leech to your psi, when you can’t even fly a ship hands-free.

“He’s yet another cusp who’s so lost in his own blood miasma, he can’t see himself in the mirror. He thinks if he jumps through enough hoops, and takes enough treats, the highbloods’ll stop treating like a beast, and accept him as a pet. Is it pathetic? Absolutely.” With a click of his teeth, he waves a hand. “Is he hateable? Fuck no. You can’t even have a rivalry with that. So if you’re so caught up on him,” he says, dry, “then stop pretending, and just go fuck it out already. I’m not going to judge. Urvata isn’t exactly competition, here.”

You squint at him. “Are you in my head?”

“Why?” Malnutrition’s a fucking plague down in the slums, and Raphae looks younger than his ten sweeps when he grins at you, all dimples and gray eyes. “Should I be?”

Raphae and you work because you want the same things: lowbloods, free to wander the streets without nullifiers hooked onto their horns like a beast’s harness. Oh, you grew up with the propaganda, same as anyone else, but you’ve never believed it. The only trolls that have to worry about mind control are the ones too weak to withstand it.

You know Raphae’s in your head, more often than not. There’s been too many slips over the sweeps to doubt it, and it’s not like he’s ever tried to hide it. It’s fine! He can rummage as much as he wants - he can’t erase anything you don’t let him. And it’s not like you care what he sees.

You broadcast everything enough already. “You’re the one angling like I’m thinking flush,” you say flippantly, tugging at his curls in a wave of pink. “Why, Raphae, are you getting jealous?” He leans forward into the gesture, arching his eyebrows at you, and -

- you’re not going to get distracted.

“Me, jealous? C'mon. We both know you like a little fang in your pitch, babe. That’s not the sort of thing you’re going to get from him.” Raphae reaches out, snagging you by the waist and yanking you forward. It’s easy to forget that your matesprit’s larger until he starts fucking manhandling you. “'fraid you’ll have to stick to the highbloods for that,” he murmurs in your ear. “Though for flush, I don’t know why you’re not just sticking to me -”

As it turns out, you end up distracted off of the topic entirely.

On your seventh attempt at a flushdate with Vadaya Urvata:

“We need to talk,” you tell him, tugging him to the side just before he steps into the bookstore. He looks nice. Lately, you haven’t been able to actually appreciate that, because every time you look at him, you’ve just been getting annoyed.

The way he looks at you - sloe-eyed and soft - doesn’t help anything. “Yes?”

You don’t know how he’s supposed to look at you. But it’s not like that, and you let go of his arm, palm outstretched as you turn away. Resentment’s not something you’re used to feeling, not of the sort that isn’t easily resolved through violence or schemes. But this isn’t something that you can just swoop in, pin a fellow to a wall, and resolve with a little teeth.

Or, no. You could resolve it with that, if you cut out the teeth. You’ve been posturing so much at Raphae about how this is pitch, you’ve started confusing even yourself.

And maybe it’s visible, because Vadaya lays his hand on your shoulder, light as a leaf. “Ah,” he says, just like he always does, more an exhale than a real word. You do not grimace, but it’s a near thing. “Iconic. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m feeling -”

“Excuse me,” someone chirps, “can you move? You’re blocking the door.”

When you turn, there’s a troll staring at the two of you, their head tilted to the side. As you watch, they blow a bubble, and then fucking pop it. It’s almost a relief. For a moment, you thought you were going to get aggressive at Vadaya, of all people - that fucking wet rug of a troll - but like the clouds parting, the Sun sent you a better target instead.

“Are we blocking the door? My goodness gracious, Vadadear, look at this, I just didn’t know! Tell you what, sweetheart..” You step forward, placing a hand on your heart, and with the other, you reach out. “If you do not fuck off,” you simper, placing your hand on their shoulder, “I am going to rip off that pretty little face of yours and choke you with it –”

On your seventh attempt at a flushdate with Vadaya Urvata:

He paps you.

“Shoosh,” Vadaya says, his voice dropping into a chirr so rough, you’re not sure if he’s ever done it before. He’s stepped neatly between you and the troll in front of you, who’s scampered away, but - you can’t pay attention to that, not when his palm is on your face.

His hands are rough. They are so rough that they have, you realise with a start of horrified fascination, actual fucking callouses that’re chafing against your skin. It’s an amazingly novel experience, having someone with callouses gently rub them into your soft skin. Something is probably ripping right now. After all, it’s so rough, you can practically hear the scratch scrape of them at work -

Except that’s not his hand, it turns out, exfoliating your delicate skin one patch at a time. That’s you. Growling.

“What the fuck, sugarplum!” you demand, once you can get the words out around it. “Are you serious?”

Vadaya blinks at you. Then his brows knit, and he has the fucking audacity to wrinkle his nose, like you just did something obscene in a public park. “Excuse me,” he says, disapproving, because of course he’s disapproving. “My apologies if that was unwelcome -”

“If that was unwelcome?” You drag your hands down your face, or start to: halfway down, you give up, fanning your fingers out to squint at him. Then you drop your hands entirely, fingers spread before they clinch into fists. “If that was unwelcome,” you repeat, marveling. “Oh, sugarplum, dearheart, you splendid, over-ripened excuse for a half-rotted elderberry -”

“Elderberries,” Vadaya says, “are purple.”

“I did not waste an entire perigee trying to get in your pants,” you snap at him, “for you to think this was pale!”

Maybe that isn’t what you should’ve said, because Vadaya’s actually going and fucking blotching on you, a mottling plum that looks around ten times worse than it ever did in your head. And isn’t that just another kind of slap? If he hadn’t just papped you, you’d be marveling over every streak of colour.

You can’t believe he mistook this all for fucking pale.

You can’t believe you didn’t catch on. Of course he gave you his jacket. Of course he’s looking at you like you just pailed on his pile, because you just basically did. “This,” you say, flat, “is a mess. My goodness gracious! Well, y’know what, sweetheart? I think I’m just going to go drown something now, so if you’ll excuse me –”

You get five steps before you realise he isn’t following. So you spin on your heel and bite off: “- well, come on.”

– iDont [ID] is now trolling unmovedVillein [UV]! –

ID:

ID:

ID: So, are we still on for Sunday, or..? (*⌒▽⌒*)θ～♪

[everyonesomething]

Session Nineteen B

Malkas: "God, this hand."

Edith Runekill: "Maybe cards was a mistake."

Malkas: "Do I need to eat the card now?"

"Like a hyena?"

Edith Runekill: "I... I don't think so." She makes a show of pretending to read the rules.

"Doesn't say anything about eating a card."

Malkas: "Okay, so that was a house rule back home."

Grim: "Only if you cheat."

---

Pepper: "You should be glad I can't fit a piano in my lap."

Grim: "Better you than Sydney."

Pepper: "I hope they sent that beautiful instrument off with full honors."

Pepper holds a non-existent hat over her heart.

Grim: "Only fittin' for a casualty of war."

Pepper chuckles. "Hope it didn't leave behind any unfinished symphonies."

Grim doesn't get it, but that's fine.

In this session we've got a lot to talk about.

The set-up: A bunch of side RP got done because of our surprisingly eventful fight.

The Game: We've set up camp for the night and are settling in for a well-deserved meal.

Syd takes a moment while the dinner's cooking to have a chat with Pepper who's been moping in the car like someone died or something. Though it doesn't seem like that's what's bothering her.

Pepper reluctantly tells Syd the healing at the end of the fight was from her, but it's not something she can reliably do. Syd doesn't understand and asks if maybe it's painful for Pepper to do, to which Pepper angsts that it was just random luck. It's not anything she can control.

Syd tries to reassure her that it's nothing to be ashamed of and that what happened must be perfectly natural. Good, kind Syd is trying, but Pepper's not hearing it.

Sydney Gaydos: "So you can't control it?" Sydney smiles. "That's nothing to be ashamed of Pepper! It's perfectly natural!" That was a lie. She has no idea.

Pepper: "Natural does not mean good. It doesn't mean invited, it doesn't mean pleasant, it doesn't mean anything except when a bolt of electricity goes off in someone's face, there's a name for what happened."

"If you don't get it, don't try and say you do, okay?" she says and rolls away from Syd.

Sydney Gaydos hecks up so bad. She lets Pepper finish her rant first before saying anything. "You are correct. Gayd--I, don't know anything about it." Ohhh Serious Tone now. "But I want to. It seems to be troubling you and you are my friend and I want to help with that." Pause. "Even if that means electricity to my face."

Pepper turns her head slightly, then turns back. "I thought that accent sounded phony." She groans. "This wasn't supposed to happen. It HADN'T happened for so long." She buries her face in her elbow.

Sydney Gaydos: "It's not phony!" she huffs, but lets it go. Slowly she reaches out a hand to put on Pepper reassuringly. "You were under a lot of stress. It was a fight after all!"

Pepper doesn't flinch away, she doesn't react at all. "Yeah? You wouldn't be saying that if it'd been anything other than a heal. It's just gonna get worse, and someone's gonna get hurt."

Pepper still has her head buried. "When Grim shot Cap she did it on purpose and everyone still jumped on her for it. Wait until I accidentally. Teleport someone out of the car or something."

Sydney Gaydos is going to HUG this out gosh dang-it.

Syd tells Pepper anything that happens would be an accident and the group would stand by her. Even if they didn't she would, for sure. But she's optimistic, we're all friends after all!

Still, Pepper makes it sound like it might be better if she just left but Syd won't hear it. Syd tells her she's just as important to the group as anyone else—Pepper helps to keep the mood light and spirits high.

Pepper mopes a bit more about how ill-suited she thinks she is to adventuring, but she seems to be feeling better. She thanks Syd for taking the time to talk to her the camper and promises she'll see her in the morning.

Syd's so good, y'all.

It's Mal, Edith, and Grim on first watch and they're all on high alert.

Edith Runekill leans on Leomund's Tiny Hut. She's wearing her Goggles of Night and has has wrapped herself in the blink cloak. What a maverick fashion icon!

Grim sits nearby, smoking under a tree and idly working on her rifle carving while she listens to the Wilderness Night Sounds

Edith Runekill peers out into the woods, not entirely convinced some more bullettes won't come bounding out.

Malkas is scooping the remaining stew into a tupperware.

Well, Edith is on high alert.

The trio talk about the monster attack earlier in the day with Mal and Edith agreeing they'd almost rather be back fighting mummies than more bullettes. They understood mummies, at least. The discussion turns to life and (un)death in general and how a lot of mummies are probably more of a security system to chase off grave robbers. Edith would rather respect a being's remains, rather than turn it into some kind of guard for a bunch of relics, but it's a moot point for her—everyone in Plaguewrought is cremated after death.

Edith Runekill shrugs. "We cremate our dead, anyway. If I die somewhere where I can get the proper rites done, it's back into the air and the earth and the sky and water. If not... well, that still happens, just slower."

Grim nods and works away on her carving.

Malkas: "... You know, I don't know what the tiefling burial rights are. Not like we're religious. And also the only tiefling funeral I've been to was my Great Great Aunt Pazuzu and we didn't have a body for her on account of her getting eaten by a hydra."

Edith Runekill: "Hey. Um."

"If... if I die out here, on this trip. And in a way where you know I can't be brought back... since I know that's a possibility, depending on how things unfold. But... but if I'm really gone for good..."

"You--”

"You'll... you'll burn my body, right?"

Malkas: "... Yeah."

Grim says nothing and keeps carving like she didn't hear

Edith Runekill: "Sorry. Not anybody's idea of a fun conversation. But... well. This is dangerous stuff we're doing."

Malkas: "Mhm."

Edith Runekill: "And I... I just wanted to make sure."

"You know?"

Malkas: "I know."

"Will you promise to embalm me and hang me up like a halloween decoration in your home to scare off all other potential suitors?"

Malkas has a pathological need to lighten a mood.

Edith Runekill lights a cigarette, but she's smiling a bit now.

Malkas: "Get a good taxidermist. Not Eddie at the museum."

"That dire wolf is a fuckin' hatchet job."

Edith Runekill opens her mouth for a follow-up joke, but it dies on her tongue; she can't really find this funny.

Malkas lights a cigarette.

Malkas: "We're gonna be fine."

Grim is tuned out. She's not into this conversation.

Cheerful!

Mal finally turns the conversation to less troubling talk and pulls out a deck of cards to help pass the time. Edith would love to play and Grim joins in with Mal winning the first two rounds. They play a few more rounds with Edith pulling out ahead and Grim quickly losing interest in the game.

It was a fine distraction, but Edith's mind turns back to the fight and how close she came to dying. She'd never had such a close shave before.

Malkas: "Trust me, being dead and then coming back is ... really hard to get your head around the first time it happens."

"I prefer almost dying."

Grim: "It's s'posed to be that way."

"You get comfy with all that magical shit, that's how you end up like Tam."

"We all got limits for a good reason."

Malkas: "Well that was the issue with Thay... No limits on anything. Total mageocracy."

Grim: "Limits don't just come from the outside, though. You got to know in yourself when it gets to be wrong."

"I don't believe it's a bad thing to be shook up over comin' back like that."

Edith Runekill looks troubled; that isn't QUITE what she meant.

Edith Runekill: "No, it's more like... like a sort of whiplash. Less about the magic in particular and more just... the gut feeling of having your body all bent and broken and twisted up and torn how its not supposed and then just--" She snaps a finger. "Suddenly you're whole again. And it's like none of that trauma's real? Except it happened. But..."

"And I didn't get it half so bad as poor Syd..."

Grim listens quietly, but doesn't seem to know what to make of it

Grim: "For the most part, I ain't accustomed to travel with a cleric. Spent most've my life way out where the best healin's a needle 'n thread and a bullet to bite on. Time you get on back to somewhere with a temple, or a clinic, it ain't a problem to recall what's been done."

"Don't know that takin' the knocks is easy to swallow either way."

Malkas: "Neither are we, really."

Edith Runekill: "I'm glad we are, obviously. Otherwise we'd be... y'know, dead. But it's still new."

Malkas: "Dad's a cleric but he didn't usually have to do much day to day healing. A couple of ... Big Fergus-related mishaps sure."

Malkas eyes drift to the car where Pepper is sleeping.

Grim flicks the end of her cigarette into the embers of the fire and folds her arms across her knees.

Mal flips through a guidebook for the Sword Coast, looking for some interesting sights or events we might be passing by. Grim mentions that she's known on the fighting circuit further east if we need to earn some money, and Thay's the closest thing to home turf for her. Mal roughly plots out having Grim help with the navigation around Thay, but before then we'll be passing through Edith's home country.

On the topic of Edith's home, Grim asks her what her folks are like. She hesitates at first before speaking.

Edith Runekill: "They're decent enough sorts? But... but the life I led isn't really what they pictured for their little girl. The job I got, how far away I live... the people I associate with... how much danger I'm putting myself in."

Edith Runekill puts a hand on Mal's shoulder.

Edith Runekill: "They came to visit me in Neverwinter. They made it clear-- in that icy polite understated calm Plaguewrought Land way-- that they didn't really approve of what I was up to. And... and especially not Mal." Edith looks miserable about this.

Grim lights another cigarette, studying Edith as she sits back

Malkas puts his hand over Edith's.

Grim: "So what makes 'em decent?"

Edith Runekill: "I... I guess they want the best for me?" She looks unsure about this. "And... and it's just that I got a different idea about what's really best?" She casts her eyes down, looking uncomfortable.

"I don't wanna sound ungrateful? They gave me a roof over my head and food in my belly and an education."

Edith Runekill lapses into an uncomfortable silence

Grim just smokes thoughtfully

Grim: "How long d'you reckon on paying the debt?"

Edith Runekill: "I... hm."

Edith Runekill takes another long drag on her cigarette

Edith Runekill: "My brothers have done so much more for the family than I ever have. But... but they wanted all that. The farm. Putting down roots of their own out there. A farmhouse and a big family all their own. You know."

"While I was chasing the sunset and dreaming of adventures out west."

They sound nice.

At any rate, Grim tells Edith it's best to live life for yourself and not for family, gods, priests, or whoever else. Though she freely admits she doesn't have much experience with families. Edith never second-guessed her own family before she met Mal's—the Steeles are a very caring, welcoming bunch. Grim reassures Edith that whatever happens in the future, she has people in the group looking out for her.

Of course, no talk about Plaguewrought Land is complete without mention of corn.

Malkas: "You know what we should get at the next stop?"

"Popcorn."

Edith Runekill snorts.

Edith Runekill: "I think we should just appreciate non-corn foods all we can 'til we get past the Cloven Mountains and enter the Corn Kingdom."

Malkas: "True..."

Grim: "What's wrong with corn?"

Edith Runekill: "Nothing inherently. it's just... well, I grew up on a corn farm. It gets a little... monotonous."

Grim: "Cornfield's a real huntin' ground. You got field mice, snakes 'n snake eggs, all kinds of birds, even besides deer around the right time've day."

Malkas: "And Corncob head."

Grim: "What now?"

Edith Runekill: "Corncob Head..."

Malkas: "The mysterious being with a cob of corn for a head that haunts you if you should ever leave and then return to the Plaguewrought Land."

"It's not real, I'm just teasing Edith."

Edith Runekill: "Yeah, it's just a story we tell. But you can tell a lot about a people from the stories they tell..."

Malkas: "In this case, it's a guy with corn for a face."

Grim: "My experience, always worth keepin' them kind of tales in mind. Often they come out of something not so far from truth."

Edith Runekill: "It's less about a guy with corn for a face and more about coming home after you been gone."

"Which. Well. You know."

Malkas: "Or, like... some kinda spell at some point. With corn."

Edith Runekill: "If Corncob Head turns out to be real, I quit the adventure."

"I'm not sure I can deal with my mixed feelings of fear and dread about going back there being embodied so literally."

Grim: "I don't know, fixin' it up into something to shoot sounds as good a way to face up as any."

Edith Runekill grins. "Good point."

Malkas: "I think if it's real enough to shoot, some other adventurer has gone home to plaguewrought and to shoot it."

Grim: "Perhaps each local that leaves creates one anew."

Edith Runekill: "There's a whole colony of 'em."

"You're driving by endless rolling fields of corn. And then you see a couple cobs bigger than the others. And then they stand up."

Malkas: "More metaphors should be edible."

Edith Runekill: "Corncob Heads."

Malkas: "We can make a melted butter golem."

Grim takes a swig from her flask, eyeing the treeline

Grim: "Don't go givin' Pepper ideas, now."

Edith Runekill actually laughs, for the first time in a while.

Edith then wonders if she shouldn't try talking to Pepper about the wild surge she had during the fight. Grim's not versed in magic so Mal and Edith explain it's a sorcerer thing—Mal's brother has them, too. Basically, a sorcerer's magic can go off in unpredictable ways, though in Grim's opinion magic is never very predictable.

And speaking of Pepper, it's time for her to take watch. Grim sends Mal and Edith off to bed, she'll wait up for her.

Grim finally glances up at Pepper, then back at her rifle. She nudges her flask out and nods towards one of the empty seats in invitation.

Grim: "Don't mind the company a while, do you? Ain't so much settled to sleep yet."

Pepper: "It's fine," she says, taking a seat but leaving the flask. "Probably shouldn't drink if I'm supposed to keep a look out, though."

Grim shrugs

Grim: "Keeps the cold out pretty good."

Pepper: "I usually just warm my clothes up or something," she says, faintly gesturing to Grim's shirt sleeve. It starts to feel warmer by a few degrees before she gestures again, causing the heat to dissipate in the cool night air.

Grim glances down at the sleeve and her brow furrows a little, but she nods and goes back to work.

Grim: "That'll do for cold on the outside, sure enough."

Pepper glances at her, chin propped in her hand. "Mm. If you want me to drink my cares away, I'm still gonna have to pass."

Grim snorts softly

Grim: "Fine by me."

Grim asks her where the name Pepper came from. She tells her it's just a translation of her nickname from when she was a kid. She would have gone by her full name—Adralei—but it turns out non-Elvish speakers are bad at pronouncing Elvish names.

Grim: "What's it mean in elfish?"

Pepper picks at a spot on the table. "It's hard to translate. It's like. Good fortune gained through hardship, I guess. But it's also like, an appeal? Asking for good fortune despite hardship in the future. It's a real old, traditional name."

Grim considers this, glancing at Pepper thoughtfully

Grim: "...Ilmater teaches hardship's a part of life. There's always gotta be some certain amount of it in the world. So there's virtue in goin' through it, takin' it off the backs of folks around you. Enduring the worst to make for better fortunes all around."

Pepper just gives Grim the most rotten look.

Pepper doesn't seem very comforted by this line of thought—her parents went through a lot just to end up with her. Grim asks what's so bad about ending up with her to which Pepper responds that even she should have a few ideas why. Grim thinks, she concedes that Pepper runs her mouth and she's a smartass but she's been around worse. But Pepper also healed Syd and helped out big during the fight.

Pepper tells her, too, that the heal wasn't any of her doing—it was just some kind of luck or fate.

Grim: "Fate don't just happen by itself. Takes you showin' up."

Pepper: "Yeah? Well, after awhile fate's the only thing that even wants me showing up anywhere anymore. It sucks and I don't have any control over it."

Grim: "You got control over bein' here, ain't you? Don't know a soul among us that don't appreciate every body we got on the tail of that lich."

Pepper: "I meant control like something else takes over and--ugh," she starts, her face in her hands again. Then, quieter, muffled by her palms. "I thought maybe you felt the same. Like when you got mad today."

Pepper looks away. "Never mind, I'm probably just overthinking things again. What was it, 'cooked up in my own head'?" She has a sour smile on her face.

Grim studies Pepper for a minute, then tosses the end of her cigarette into the fire and looks back over at the owl.

Grim: "I know what you're talkin' about," she says, more quietly. "You ain't wrong."

Pepper noticed when Grim raged out during the fight—though it would have been hard to miss her repeatedly stabbing a bullette seeing as they were in the same car. Pepper asks if it happens a lot, Grim says it's been more frequent lately and that right fighting used to help keep it under control.

Pepper says she's not sure if anyone else would have noticed, there was a lot going on. She's pretty sure Edith was too excited about her fireball to see anything out of the ordinary. A fireball Pepper's still a little peeved about.

Pepper: "And I'm not sure she gets that knowing what evocation can do is a little different experience than being stuck in the middle of it. But what am I telling you for, you were there--" She glances up and catches the look on Grim's face.

Pepper lowers her voice into an almost conspiratorial tone, but looks at the carving instead. "Didn't you say something once about a fire?"

Grim hasn't moved much, but every muscle in her body is tense suddenly. She runs her fingers absently over the carving, brow furrowed.

Grim: "...my hometown burned. I don't remember it."

"Only sometimes, somethin' in me does."

Grim doesn't know why she's telling Pepper this. She lets go of her rifle and takes a slug from her flask instead.

Pepper nods. "My surges were worse when I was younger. I didn't know what I'd done unless someone told me. I think there's still stuff my mom hasn't told me about, she doesn't want me to worry."

Pepper: "But then it's like. You just end up with different stuff to worry about." She lapses into silence, studying the carving instead.

Grim: "There's things that live in your bones, once you been through 'em. Even if you don't recall."

Grim follows Pepper's gaze to the rifle. She's been painstakingly carving out a coyote against a desert plain

Grim: "There's worse places to be, when you're dangerous, than standing in between regular folks and evil."

"Least, that's how I tell it to myself."

Pepper: "Mm. I'll take your word for it, this is a little new to me." She points at the carving. "Is that like. For good luck or something?"

Grim eyes the carving and then smiles a little

Grim: "Naw. Just reckon it looks nice."

Pepper: "Yeah. 's neat."

Grim tells Pepper she heard her talking with Edith the other night at the hotel, after Candlekeep—the walls really were that thin. She's glad Pepper's treating her better to which Pepper admits she had a lot of things wrong about both Edith and Grim. Well, it's almost an apology. Pepper laughs at how backwards she had the situation and double-checks that Grim had no idea about Edith's crush. She didn't—she's used to more direct talk from people.

Grim spots an owl up in a tree, it's actually been watching the two of them for most of their conversation. She IDs it as a celestial owl, a kind of spirit and a good omen.

Grim leans down and rummages around for one of Mal's tupperwares, cigarette clamped in her mouth while she fishes out a chunk of leftover rabbit and tosses it across the way towards the owl.

Grim: "S'a kinda spirit. Good kind."

The owl swoops down and picks up the hunk of rabbit. It does one of those real gross owl moves to swallow it.

Pepper: "Oh. Maybe things are looking up, then. Or. They're going to get so bad it showed up so it'll only be mostly bad."

Grim: "You sure got an eye for a downside."

"And that's comin' from a gal named Grim."

Pepper: "We can trade names, if it bugs you that much," she grins, a bit.

Grim smirks and exhales smoke, watching the owl

Grim: "Suits you better bein' Pep."

With that, Grim goes off to sleep, closing out the scene and the night.

Everyone’s such good friends!