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othercat2 · 6 years

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Crooked Little House One

Hives more likely to be there than not

It happens at an official dinner on the Flagship, celebrating some official shit, because of course it does. There's a moment that's like a lightning strike, then a shift in perspective, and almost identity. The world spins and history changes and always-was. You’d been in the middle been in the middle of drinking a glass of wine while all this was happening. You choke and cough all over the third course, much to the horror of the other guests and your guards, who immediately swarm the table.

"No!" You gasp out, trying to get control of her aeration sponges, gills and whatever was swarming into your head. “I’m fin,” you say. “Somefin went down the wrong hatch, is all.” Making your excuses, you get away from the table, surrounded by a school of rattled guards.

They take you to a seadweller ablution block with a little parlor, a long couch and an entertainment unit. Servants come to help you into a new dress, adjust your jewelry and fix your hair. You sit your bass down and try to think through a fog of memories that ain’t quite yours, but were and never had been. Fuck. Other-you had been a miserable beach. She’d been old, angry and just plain miserable. Desperate for shit she lost and never had, under the thumb of some giant green basshole.

But she was just a past you, and there was no invading personality behind the memories.

Reset, just like your kismesis said it was going to be.

“Okay.” You take a breath. “I can’t bereef it, but this is a thing that’s actually happening.”

There’s such a smug feeling in the parlor just then. It’s followed by a warm chuckle against your fins and a tug on your horn, friendly and entirely too casual. You growl and tug your horn free of a ghostly hand. “Basshole,” you mutter. The smug feeling just gets stronger.

You take out your shelltop. There are orders to issue, things you need to explain. You need to get back to Alternia. There were Heroes of the Imperium to recognize, and you needed to explain why they were six sweep wigglers. You had a new Heiress to acknowledge, as well. You were going to need to do so much spin.

Dola is kind of mad at you when you get to her, and also confused. Dola is always kind of mad at you so that's not a big deal. "I assure you that the location of all wiggler hives are listed and carefully monitored. There aren't any 'hives that weren't there before but it's mostly plausible that they should have been there.'" She frowns at you. "Is this some kind of joke based on the assumption Psii hasn't sent me podcasts of Troll Welcome to Nightvale?"

"Dola, just look," you say. "I swear they'll be there, right where there wasn't anything before according to the drones, but it'll be all archived like it was."

Dola’s mouth thins into a straight line, but she looks in the records, like you asked her. “I don’t suppose you have any other information about these anomalous wigglers?”

You list off hatch names and lusii. She is not happy about the names, and she also isn’t pleased about a few of the lusii. “The lusii should be dead,” you tell her, which she also isn’t happy about, except for the seagoat and the spider.

“They haven’t been used as lusii for sweeps,” she says.

“Well, the Serket sprat had a giant spider and the Makara sprat had a seagoat. Special circumstances.”

“Like living in hives that more likely to have been built where they are than not?” Dola asks in what you’re pretty sure is a rhetorical fashion. She follows it up with, “I’ve found the Serket and Zahhak wigglers,” she says, sounding surprised, even though you told her. Then she frowns. “Their hives are really very extravagant.”

“Rattling around like beans in a pod,” you agree. Dola had strong opinions about stipends and resource allotments. You’re pretty satisfied with the results of setting her loose on revamping early grub and wiggler care and education. “Be careful when you approach the lowbloods. They should all be asleep still when you find them, but the rust, gold and bronze bloods are going to panic if they see drones and adults. Probably especially the rust and gold.”

Dola frowns at that, but doesn’t question that. “Will we be sending these wigglers to the ship, since they’re apparently ‘Heroes of the Imperium,’?” she asks.

“Nah. Put ‘em up in my hive,” you tell her. Her frown doesn’t lighten. “You, know, the one your basshole wiggler made me build?”

“Your…hive is barely habitable, Empress,” Dola says.

“Is so,” I say. “It’s just a little…eccentric.”

“Your hive is a nightmare of bad architecture decisions,” Dola says.

“It’d been a while since I’d had anything built,” you say. “It’s all solid construction with a good foundation.”

“And staircases that don’t go anywhere, walled up rooms, leaning floors and mismatched windows,” Dola says. “And it hasn’t been opened or used since it was built.”

“It’s big enough for twelve wigglers, close to a resource depot and you can get it set up in no time flat,” you tell her. “That’s what construction drones are for.”

This is the story behind the house, which is coincidentally the story behind your coddamn haunting by your fucking kismesis who you didn’t realize was your fucking kismesis til he started haunting your bass:

There’s some basshole preaching about how the hemospectrum shouldn’t be a thing. That certain instincts should be ignored or weren’t as important anymore because everyone was connected or should be connected by society and mutual cooperation for survival. This all went against your philosophy of competition and rigidly maintained control of the hemocastes for greater strength and reproductive fitness.

You are not happy. Your fucking Grand Highblood is not happy. Your nobles are not happy, either your supporters of the coddamn caste-traitors supporting “The Signless.” The lowbloods are definitely not happy. You eventually put the rebellion down, and string up “The Signless” and make his lovers watch. (You did not realize at the time that Dola was not one of his quadrants but actually his lusus, which you still think is weird as fuck.)

A perigee later the fucker appearifies his ghostly bass in your fucking throne room. None of the little rusty necromancers you keep around to get rid of hauntings can or will get rid of him for fear or money. He bitches in your head nonstop. He hates you and all your works and he’s going to tell you exactly what he thinks about you. (There is nothing about you he likes, and he is so fucking disappointed in you.)

He tries to make you cut Psiioniic loose. Not even pointing out that you’ll just put in some other yellow blood makes him reconsider. He and the Psiioniic have the pitchest fucking diamond jam because the yellow blood won’t let any of the technicians take him down. (Psii feels guilty he couldn’t protect Signless, he also feels guilty because the rig you set up for him is state of the art and connects him to the ship like it was his own body, not like something he’s dragging along like a cartbeast and is fucking sweet. Signless is furious that Psii is punishing himself, you are so fucking jealous and you don’t even fucking know why.)

Some dumb blue blood technician goes fucking ashen and starts babbling about rigs that involve full mobility. The guppy is just utterly fucking inspired and babbling schematics and power sinks. Soon he and Psii are babbling at each other in tech, and you and Signless are just watching this bullshit transpire. “What the fuck is even happening,” you say. Your imperial majesty is being ignored by the geeks, but not by Signless who is this blazing furious red presence with white eyes.

“Psii may be a stubborn dumbass, but you’ve proved you’ll cave if I’m persistent enough,” he says. “Free my mother, you heinous bitch.”

“You don’t have any lusus,” you say. “You’re a fucking mutant.”

“My mother,” he repeats, like you’re a moron. “The Dolorosa.”

“How the fuck?” you ask. “No, nevermind, don’t know, don’t care. She’s a deviant jade and the caverns wouldn’t take her back anyway.”

“She’s lived free on the surface for years after she left the caverns,” he says.

“She was a fucking fugitive with a mutant grub that should’ve been culled,” you say.

He throws you up against the nearest bulkhead. You do your best to fight back, but there’s fuck-all you can get purchase on or make a mark. The two of you are screaming at each other in pure pitch rage. “Oh hell no, not in my block!” Psii says, and separates the two of you--how he got hold of a ghost that don’t have no proper substance to hold onto, you don’t know. The fucker mediates between you and the mutant.

So you recover the Dolarosa and she hates your guts. Her buoy is dead, and fuck if she cares he’s also a fucking active haunting. She visits Psii and is in and out of your quarters. Your servants have no fucking idea of what to do about her or what her position is supposed to be. You’re fucking courtiers don’t know what to do about her. She sews and makes snide comments about your preferred color palettes, the design of your clothes, the livery of your goddamn staff.

You get nagged into trying to recover the Disciple, but that ain’t going to happen any time soon; she kills anyone you send after her and renders their blood into paint like she was some kind of olive subjuggulator. “Your gill is outta her coddamn mind,” you tell the ghost.

“You could try not sending soldiers after her,” the ghost says with a patient air. “I’m sure you can understand why the sudden appearance of ruffianannihilators wandering through her territory would be upsetting.”

“Well, how the shell am I supposed to look after her, if she keeps shanking everyone I send after her?” you ask him.

The ghost smiles at you. “Maybe you shoal-d trying talking to her yourself!”

“One, that was weak, two, I’m the coddamn Empress, you fuckers all come to me, I don’t go to you.”

“Whale, good luck with that, Empress,” the little shit says and absconds.

You are stupidly pitch for him, you realize. You otter be finding a way to keep him the fuck away from your ship, but instead you’re fucking rising to his mockery and thinking I’ll show that little bastard what’s what. You step up your attempts to catch Disciple, but fail pretty dramatically. The nubby little shit is helping her avoid the soldiers you send after her and isn’t shy about admitting it. This is plainly cheating, but according to him you have an unfair advantage.

“Don’t see why she hasn’t dumped your bass,” you tell him, going for an emotional attack the next time he turns up. “Using her as a prawn in this game.”

“How eels is she going to get paint for her murals?” The little shit says. “When we weir travelling people donated in exchange for portraits and sigil-work, but she’s a little far out from any settlements, and understandably wants to keep to herself.”

“Nasty little wanna-be clown,” you mutter.

“Not really,” the little shit says. “She’s a much better artist than most of the Subbjuggalators I’ve seen. Possibly because she’s able to accept and actively seeks criticism, whereas the average Subbjugalator artist tends to crush criticism, so their work tends not to improve.”

“I hate you so much,” you tell him. The very first time, completely and honestly ebon and your fins flare and flutter in utter embarrassment like you’re a teeny little grub with her first crush.

“I’m flattered,” Signless says. “But you missed your chance when you had me tortured to death.”

He says it so gently and so kindly you want scream. You almost do, but bite your tongue instead. Screaming means he wins and you don’t want him to win. Blood fills your mouth, and you want to tear at something, the rage bubbling up like something toxic from a deep sea volcano vent. It makes everything seem sharp and vivid and poisonously bright and loud. For a lack of anything else, you tangle your fingers in your hair close to the scalp, dig in and yank hard. Blood trickles down into your hair, into your eyes.

Signless catches you by the horn and untangles your hands from your hair. Dola comes in, already armed with a first aid kit. You’re pretty sure Psiioniic must have sent for her. Signless disappears, and because you are a coddamn wiggler, you curl up and burst into stupid wiggler bawling.

Dola cleans you up; tsking over the blood you got all over the sit stub and your clothes. It is pretty clear the fabric is more important than your imperial person. You can’t tell her a damn thing because she hates you platonic. You can’t tell her a damn thing because she won’t even pretend to be pale for your stupid ass. So you cry and she cleans up your cuts and all the blood.

He wins anyway. You take a shuttle down with a few guards, and set up a little campsite to wait for the Disciple to show up. You’re out there for about three nights before she makes an appearance early in the evening at the edge of your campsite. Just suddenly there when you could have sworn there hadn’t been anyone there a few minutes ago.

Against the better judgment of your guards, you approach her. She speaks, and her voice is soft and hoarse, like she hasn’t used it much for a long while. “He says you’re pitch for him, much good may it do you,” she says.

“Fuck you,” you say, still feeling raw and sick about your little breakdown. “He also say he’s been bitching at me to bring you in?”

“He says a lot of things,” the Disciple says. “I don’t always agree with him.”

“Well, he ain’t going to shut up until he knows you’re safe. Why he thinks I should be the one taking care of his followers is a mystery of the coddamn universe.”

“You’re the one he holds responsible,” Disciple says. “And he feels pitch for you as well, for no known reason in the universe.”

You’re stung by that. “You think I can’t get pitch action all up in?”

“You aren’t his widow,” Disciple says, blunt and cruel. “It doesn’t matter what you can get, you don’t have.”

“Not much I can do about that now, can I?” I ask. “Even if I had he wouldn’t have lasted longer than a spark.”

“You wouldn’t have even known what you lost,” she says, and she’s gone again.

You don’t go after her. You stay at the campsite in the foulest mood while your guards try to figure out your imperial will or what the fuck ever. It’s a nice area, with just a hint of post-dark season chill in the breeze. The forest is blue and pink mostly, with pale greens and yellows mixed in. You don’t know from trees, except some woods are more expensive than others because they’re fancy. You know fuck all about land animals except birds are the ones with wings, but there are various kinds of both in the trees, and various kinds of insects, a few of them hellacious little bastards who want to sample imperial blood.

There’s a lot that can be handled from the campsite, you don’t need to go back just yet. You are pretty determined to win at getting Disciple to come back with you. Signless turns up a few days into your wait. “Still here? I would have thought you’d gotten bored,” he says.

“Do you, or do you not want me protect your matesprit?” You ask, aggravated.

“There’s lots of ways you can do that, that doesn’t involve dragging her up to the ship, where she wouldn’t be happy anyway,” he says.

“What the fuck am I doing here then!?” You definitely don’t shriek.

“You need to build a house,” he says.

“I need to build a house. Why the fuck do I need to build a house?”

“Well, one reason is that if Dis thinks you’re here for the long haul, she might talk to you,” he says.

“I want to talk to her why?” you ask sourly.

“You also need to listen to her,” he says. “You’re here, so there’s some hope!” Then he absconds.

You also don’t screech and pull your hair, mad as fuck, but not mad enough to claw yourself up this time.

You think about giving up. You think about just flat out not letting him have his way. At the same time the back of your brain is set on following this challenge and proving yourself. That part doesn’t care one bit that the prospective kismesis is fucking dead and you aren’t ever going to pail him. (You are never going to be properly kismeses.) It’s full of all of this hopeful determination and pitch fucking longing and it won’t let you leave.

“No that’s too big. I said house, not palace.”

You

“Also I think you should work on at least thirty percent of the building, to show willing.”

Build

“You are really hilariously bad at this.”

The

“A saltwater swimming pool?”

Coddamn

“I’m just saying if you fuck it up and it gets saltwater everywhere...”

House

At the end, it’s a rambling two and a half story sprawl with an attic and a basement. Front and back porch. Nothing’s quite straight and you fucked up a lot of shit, but the drones were able to make your designs work. You’re proud of what you got built, even if it’s a dilapidated mess. The generator’s placidly crunching away at fuel, the electricity works, the water heater is doing its job, you got the landscaping roughed out, and a maintenance schedule set up.

You’re admiring your work when Disciple says from behind you. “Am I supposed to live here?”

You don’t jump. “Why you and not me?” You say.

“It’s not a palace ten times as big and made of coral and gold,” she says.

You turn all slow to face her. “Yeah well I was building it to someone else’s specifishcations.”

“Why?” she asks.

“I know fuck all how to answer that,” you tell her. “He won’t leave me be, bitching all the time. Judging me on every fucking particular. He wants to protect his quadrants. He wants to protect his lusus, he wants me to do it and I’m the one that krilled his bass. He acts like he’s dispensing life lessons and I can’t punch him in his coddamn smug face.”

“He usually backs off if someone doesn’t want to listen,” she says. “He must really be pitch. Really really pitch. Oh.” Her hands fly up to cover her mouth, and she actually fucking bounces on the balls of her feet, all sudden wiggler delight. “Psi’s never made him that pitch; I’ve never made him that pitch!”

“Vacillating with his matesprit and kismesis?” You ask, because you’re a nosy bitch. “Wait, he’s pale for Psii, what the hell?” On the other hand, that was one obsidian diamond…

“We’re never any one quadrant,” the Disciple says.

“Y’all are deviants,” you tell her. She laughs at you.

Coddamn.

Talking happens, rebellions happen. Signless makes suggestions. You occasionally follow them. You have to kick the Grand Highblood’s bass a few times because he thinks he has more of a say than he actually does. (“I’m scared of science and social change, look at my codpiece durr hurr.”) There’s an uprising involving some bronzeblood you think was mostly being manipul8ted by some cerulean bitch. (Signless is snide with you for assuming that, completely ignoring the coddamn evidence.)

Eventually he explains about the house. He tells you about his visions, and a game. The Game is part of some vast machinery that creates universes, destroying the world of the species that plays the game. Alternia is/was/not slated to become the next world to produce Players for it.

“Our particular edition of the game is actually part of a tangled up mess around an object called the Green Sun,” Signless says. “So the process is extra complicated for getting viable universes. In an ordinary game there’s always a reset so the origin universe can continue, with iterations of the complete set of players. Unfortunately the Green Sun is a pile up disaster of several universes, so the resets are pushed pretty far out. Apparently there’s also a demon involved, who keeps destroying iterations of the players. There’s an absolutely lovely young lady who’s taken it upon herself to fix the problem.”

“And this universe is the ‘reset’?” You ask him.

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he says. “But things became much clearer when I met the young lady in question.”

“So these Players are going to show up?”

“Wigglers set back to their original ages when they entered the game, but with gifts from the Game,” he says. “I’d like them to live in a better world than the one they came from, also, it would be better for them to live together than not while they adjust.”

You want to ask him questions about “gifts from the game,” but you know he won’t answer you direct. “And if I make that ‘better world’ for you, everyone else benefits too.”

He smiles at you. “Of course.”

#homestuck #the signless #the disciple #hic #crooked little house

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sleepyfoodtruck · 3 years

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back in the day (part 3)

swear to GOD i'm gonna link the other 2 fics lmao asdfg i just keep forgetting!!!

part 1

part 2

i think this is gonna be the last part of their "meet cute" (lmao), i'm gonna try and start writing about the actual mod during the weekend and stuff.

The school year had gone by in a blur, which was rather odd. Usually, Snowhill felt like the days just dragged on and on, it was annoying but she'd liked the predictability of it all.

Wake up at 6 AM. Go to school. Stay in class until 3 PM. Go home. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Sometimes they'd go on field trips, other times she'd volunteer to help with a school function (for a grade of course) or to stay a bit later to clean up the classroom. Her whole life had been like that and she'd liked it enough, sure it was a bit lonely at times, but everyone feels like that sometimes, right? Besides, it allowed her time to practice her spells and potion-making.

After Coral showed up, however, things took a rather harsh twist. Long gone were the days where she'd know exactly what would happen, her routine went through the window and splattered all over the pavement. No mercy from her "new bestie for life".

Wake up at 6 AM, call Coral so she'd wake up on time. Go to school and don't unpack anything yet, lest Coral crashes into the table again. Stay in class until 3 PM, skip a class or two with Coral if she's too bored. Go home? Absolutely not, Coral's hungry and she wants to beat the record for most french fries eaten in an hour; remember to carry a thermos with tea for her stomachache. Refuse to eat at home because you're full of french fries. Stay up until late talking with Coral through videochat. Sleep an hour or two. Repeat.

It...was a lot to get used to. She'd complain all the way about the numerous changes in her day because, honestly, how messed up is it that you gotta re-acommodate your whole day for only one person?

Truth was, she didn't mind it that much. It was a bit annoying at the beginning and it did take a while to get used to. Sometimes she'd forget to call Coral and, though her friend never got upset about it, she did feel awful and ended up apologizing a lot. Other times she'd be "too down in the dumps" (read: depressed) to even go to school. On those days, Coral would drop by her house around lunch time and hang out with her; sometimes she'd drag her outside, by the horns, just so she could "get some fresh air in your itty bitty lungs!!!".

She never had anyone take care of her like that. It was gross and disgusting and she didn't want it to stop. Her family was very supportive through it all, they'd come to accept her new friend with no issue. Or, rather than accept...

"That kid's way too skinny for her age!!" her mom, a centaur, huffed "Have you been giving her the lunches I've sent?"

"I have. She chows them down, last time she almosr swallowed the fork" Snowhill sat at the living room table, working on her History homework.

"Y'know how seamonsters are, they eat too much and gain almost no weight" her dad sat down next to her, petting her horns and getting to work on new spells "My coworker's like that, at least".

"I know that! But still, she makes me so nervous" she huffed again, her tail swishing in agitation "Oh! I know! Invite her over next week, I'll make casserole!"

"Moooooommm..."

"Don't you sass me! You gotta take care of her, she takes care of you!"

"We're classmates, she sits right next to me and she helps me with math, of course I gotta take care of her"

Her dad snorted, dropping his spell book "Oh sure, "classmates". You hear that? That's what they call it now?"

"What? But we're classmates!"

"Sure you are, dear" though she was facing the stove, Snowhill got the distinct impression her mother had that sardonic smile, the one she loathed, the one that said 'I know more than you about this but I refuse to tell you, however I will laugh at you by the time you find out'.

"B-But we are!!!!"

_______________________________________________________

We're just classmates. Nothing more, nothing less.

Snowhill kept repeating that same sentence over and over. On her way to school, during classes, at lunch sharing her portion with Coral and on the subway back home.

She was absolutely sure of this fact. More than that, she was sure their relationship (whatever it was) was not what her parents were implying. She'd had crushes before, even a boyfriend and a girlfriend (kinda?), and this didn't feel anything like those two instances.

We're just classmates. Nothing more, nothing less.

Could they even be considered friends? Coral seemed to put more effort into their hypothetical friendship. She'd sit with her, help her with math and, recently, forced her to socialize with the rest of the class. She hated that last part though, it wasn't a lie that being lonely was just more comfortable for her.

We're just classmates. Nothing more, nothing less.

"What'cha thinkin' about?" speak of the devil.

Snowhill looked up from her knitting. She'd taken it up recently, her aunt and grandmother finally decided she was ready and had begun to train her; craftmanship spells were an ancient art in her family, and it was her turn to carry on the tradition.

Shrugging, she untangled a bit more yarn and continued knitting, the scarf slowly taking form "Nothing. Just trying to not miss any stitches"

"OOOOHHH!!! What're you making? Is this yarn?! It's such a pretty color too!!!" Coral grabbed the ball of yarn, twisting it between her claws and admiring the lush green color.

"It's supossed to be a scarf, granny said this was the easiest thing to start with"

The undine nodded, not answering as she was still too entertained playing with the yarn, her pupils ridiculously expanded.

"What the fuck, she looks like a cat?" Snowhill stared, perplexed "Why is that cute".

"Say!!" Coral stood, a bit dizzing from doing so too fast "Wanna come over this weekend? I found a super rad abandoned ship, I think you'd like it!!"

"Uh..." shit, shit, shit. How to turn her down without seeming like an asshole "I...have...goat things to do. This weekend. In my house. M-My goat house".

What??

"Uh-huh" the undine crossed her arms, an amused smile on her face "your goat house?"

"Yup!!!! My goat house!!!!" she started knitting again, missing every single stitch.

"Where you do goat things. Because you're a goat?"

"Yup!!!!"

"Soooo...I'm sure you won't mind doing your goat things in the sea? Your mom said you'd be delighted!"

"...You arranged this with my mom..."

"Sure did!!! See you by the shore this Saturday, 12 PM sharp!!!"

Shit.

______________________________________________________

The week passed by in a blur and, before she knew, it was already Saturday. That meant...Snowhill was gonna come by today!!! They'd hang out and check out the spooky abandoned ship, maybe she'd finally convince her to give sea food a try!!! Then, she could finally get her hands on her hair and braid a bunch of shells and small rocks all over it AND her horns. It promised to be a very, very exciting weekend!!!

...That is, if she'd just get in the water already.

"C'mon Snowy!!! The water's great, you've been standing there for fifteen minutes!!" Coral was lounging on a rock, her tail making small waves as it swished back and forth.

"Don't call me that" Snowhill gripped her sweater, a very tense expression on her face "I, uh, can't swim".

"Yes you can!! Your mom showed me pictures of you guys on the beach. She can swim, and she's half horse! You'll manage"

"The ocean scares me?"

"I'll be with ya, I'm the most dangerous thing in this part of the sea!!"

"My fur's gonna get wet?"

"I'll help you dry it later. C'moooon!!!"

The goat bit her lip, twisting the bottom of her very rumpled sweater. Coral sighed, she really didn't wanna pressure her and she did seem really uncomfortable. But, her mom said it was fine? If there was an issue, she would've been told, right?

Eventually, Snowhill sighed and began taking off her sweater "...Fine. B-But don't laugh. And...and don't tell anyone, or I'll curse you".

Excited, the undine perked up. She finally managed to tug her sweater off her horns and dropped it on the hot sand, twisting her hands and nervously looking around. As expected, she was incredibly hairy; as a goat, it was only natural. Coral still couldn't help but stare though, it hadn't occurred to her that it might be a problem and she might feel self-conscious about it; it looked so soft! She must spend hours brushing it.

Taking another deep breath, Snowhill slowly treaded into the water. Coral propped up on her elbows, a confused frown on her face; her friend had said she was a goat, so why--

"Why do you have fins?!"

She startled, a loud "BAAA" escaping her before she covered her mouth. Her very small but clearly visible ear-fins also dropped, she was mortified and her yelling wasn't helping.

"Sorry!!"

"UGH. This is why I hate the ocean!!! My fur gets stiff and these stupid fins come out, and my tail hurts and--"

"YOU HAVE A TAIL?!" Coral dunked into the water, way too excited to completely process the full sentence.

Sure enough, there it was: an honest to god mermaid tail complete with very fragile-looking fins and scales. The tail was coated with a light layer of fur, she still had her goat legs somehow. In fact, it looked as if she had attached a mermaid tail to her waist. A bit weird, bu cool nontheless.

"This is SO COOL!!! I knew you weren't a goat, but I didn't think you were a seagoat!!!"

"Y-You knew?! Who told you?!"

"No one! But, c'mon gimme some credit here" Coral stopped swimming in circles, placing her hands on her hips and looking a bit annoyed "I've lived in the sea my whole life, I could smell it on you".

"...Oh..." to her credit, Snowhill seemed a bit embarrassed "S-Sorry"

"No biggie!" she grabbed her hand, still tiny and still fitting perfectly with her own "This'll make everything so much easier!! We just gotta swim for a bit, enjoy the view!"

At first, it went great! They went slowly for a bit, so that Snowhill could get used to actually swim in the ocean again. They passed by a few schools of fishes, collected pretty seashells and shiny rocks and even tried a few mollusks; despite claming they were "absolutely disgusting", Snowhill still ate them.

They'd been swimming for a good 30 minutes before Coral noticed something was wrong. She was babbling about the abandoned ship, how there were some doors that wouldn't open but could, most definetely, be broken if they rammed something against them. She was about to suggest using her friend's horns, turning around excitedly just to notice she was alone.

Well, not alone. But Snowhill was slowly skinking to the bottom of the ocean, very still and very much not breathing.

"SHIT!!! WHAT HAPPENED?!" Coral quickly swam to her, lifting her with ease and going back up to the surface as fas as she could "Please don't die on me!! Please, oh god, please don't die on me!!"

She reached the surface in record time, throwing Snowhill on the sand roughly. As she grabbed her shoulders to wake her up, she couldn't help but watch in fascination how the tail disappeared; it slowly faded away, merging with the back of her legs and further up her waist.

"Whoa...n-no, I gotta focus!!" once again, she began shaking her "C'mon sis, wake up! You can't die here, we still got a test on Monday!!"

But she wasn't waking up, she was too still. Touching her face, Coral noticed that her skin was cold; Snowhill ran like a furnace, her being cold couldn't be a good sign. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands on the goat's chest.

"Please work, just focus and don't dehydrate her" she looked at her face one las time, then closed her eyes.

Everything was still for a moment. Then, focusing very hard on extracting the right amount of water, Coral lifted her hands. A small bubble began to form, its color murky; a bit of sand was also inside, as if the goat had managed to swallow it somehow. Very carefully, she dragged herself to the shore and dumped the bubble in the sea. Her tail hurt considerably (there were many rocks and they cut deep), but she crawled back to where Snowhill was.

A bit of color seemed to return to her face, though it was hard to tell since she was so pale. With shaky hands, she gently slapped her cheeks.

"S-Snowy? Can ya hear me?" nothing. She though for a moment, then leaned down and whispered in her ear "The teacher said the math test's gonna be on Monday"

"WHAT?!" the goat got up and promptyl smacked her horn on Coral's forehead.

"OW!!!!" "FUCK!!!!"

Coral rubbed the sore spot on her forehead, while Snowhill coughed up what little water was left in her lungs. Gingerly, the undine rubbed her friend's back, the coughing fit lasted forever and it sounded awful.

"Ya good?" still rubbing her back, she sat down propperly. Her tail was ridiculously sore.

"Y-Yeah, sorry" Snowhill's voice was raspy, she still seemed to be out of it, as she leaned into her friend's side as soon as she stopped coughing.

"Oh! Um, good! You give me quite a scare there" a bit flustered, Coral hugged her back "What happened? If you don't mind me asking"

"..."

She didn't say anything at first, staring off into the ocean and breathing a bit too loudly. The undine took a deep breath and hugged her a bit tighter, she was so tiny and she was shaking and it was her fault and--

"I should've told you before, that's on me" she spoke slow and ver low "Yeah, I'm a seagoat. But I haven't been to the ocean in years"

"You don't like it?"

"Uh, it's not that. My fins are too small and my gills are under my fur. I'm not supossed to be underwater for more than 20 minutes" she paused, took several deep breaths and then continued "Used to be about...6 hours, but I moved to the city and there wasn't much time to come back to the ocean. I guess my body forgot it can breath underwater"

"I'm really sorry" giving into temptation, Coral rested her head right between her horns "It was a bit obvious, you were kinda anxious. I shouldn't have pushed ya"

"It's whatever. For what it's worth, I had fun"

"You did? But we didn't even get to see the ship!"

"Well, yeah. I mean, drowning sucked but-" Snowhill sat up a bit, almost snuggling into her "I missed the sea. We'll find a way around, maybe an air bubble will work better next time"

Next time? She was planning for a next time? Coral bit her lip in giddy excitement, trying her hardest to keep still. They watched the ocean for another minute, both shivering as a cold breeze blew past them.

"I'm guessing it's late enough, I should get going" reluctantly, the goat stood up and (slowly) walked towards her discarded sweater "Ugh, gross, its covered in sand"

"Wish you could stay over but, uh, I don't think it's a good idea" she brushed a bit of sand off her tail, hissing when some of it got into her injuries.

"What the fu-- you're hurt? Why didn't you tell me?" Snowhill walked over and dropped to her knees, placing her hands on her tail "Don't move"

"You don't gotta--"

"I'm not dumb, you must've done something to get the water out of me" the cuts and scrapes glowed green before closing themselves "It's only fair I help you out, too"

"Awww, bestie, you didn't need to do that!!"

"...It's...it's what friends are for"

_____________________________________________________

We're not just classmates.

Fuck.

#fnf oc #fnf mod #it's all sunshine and rainbows until you gotta be vulnerable with your bff #then shit hits the fan #Snowhill #Coral

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the-unforgotten · 4 months

Text

while it was not a part of my original reading list it did get added and boosted to the top of the queue as its timely

book 6 of the year is Dean Spade's Mutual Aid

currently about 40% through the book

how I found it

id heard of it before but a wonderful essayist I found via tiktok by the name of ismatu gwendolyn brought it to the forefront of my attention

heres their substack specifically about the book https://ismatu.substack.com/p/mutual-aid-is-mutual-recap-readings

but the whole substack is wonderful insightful and thought provoking

how I'm reading it

online ebook https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/dean-spade-mutual-aid

and audio via a text to speech extension :)

thoughts

very informative has lots of examples of movements that I definitely have to look more into

like the young lords party or the oakland power projects

it bring up a lot of good points to consider in realtion to mutual aid as well as reactions to various crisis such as the way justice systems might over police people seeking aid as a way to catch suspected criminals

the writing is very easily digestible the text even provides charts to better explain and compare ideas and methods. I particularly like the chart on tendencies that harm groups. it addresses problems but also includes goals to be aiming for.

like I'm ecstatic that this book is solutions orinated.

its really invigorating and makes me want to read more theory because I feel this is giving me such a good base.

anywho back to reading i go :D

#seagoat says things #seagoat says shit #seagoat reads things #mutual aid #mutual aid dean spade

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the-unforgotten · 3 months

Text

im about to start dungeon meshi

#seagoat says shit #dunmes

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the-unforgotten · 4 months

Text

what im reading

book number 7 of the year is Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

at the time of writing im about 30% through the book.

how I found it

good reads giveaway specifically the scifi tag. I entered back in December didn't win but the book seemed interesting enough that I put it on my notify list in libby. it just came out at the end of january

i did read the summary blurb so I did know where the story was generally headed even if I didnt fully remember that when I started reading it this week.

im doing combination ebook read and audio book listen via libby

that narrator adds so much character to the story as well as getting rid of a pronunciation barrier id have with the names and settings.

what I remembered from the blurb was that theres gonna be a murder.

story so far

so in a futuristic africa the story follows the main character nelah and her life as she navigates that pitfalls of the society she lives in. some things about this futuristic setting

ones consciousness can be swapped between physical bodies

you can have multiple lifetimes. you live out your life then at the end of it decided to do another life in another body

crime is heavily decreased by some minority report esque government and religious endeavor

bodies that have been used by criminals are reused but micro chipped which records videos the bodies surroundings as well as paralyzing the body if its in the process of committing crime.

nelah inhabits one of these microchipped bodies and has since about 18.

she is now married and has a architectural firm and a police husband. they want kids but come to find out this body is also infertile.

if it wasnt obvious by the title parenting childrearing and related things are very important to this story.

oh and to top it off the body has a bionic arm.

nelah and her husband are not have a good time theres fucked up power dynamics out the wazoo

he is not chipped and as nelah notes most men are not. she at one point made more money than him. and them not having a kid yet is hurting his chances for a promotion. and a big one is he gets to watch the footage of her microchip as it uploads so no privacy

theres a lot of interesting world building like you can choose to integrate into the family of the body you are in or abandon them. in some cases you might remember past lives tho this seems to be a privilege awarded to the rich and connected most people forget. and a god is said to be resting under the city which is why the crime predicting stuff can happen.

my current issue is that the characters keep railing against the world they live in.

for example nelah pulled a knife on her body brother during an argument and wasnt zapped to stop

nelah lighty and more so the people she is in conversation with dont really believe in the folklore or religion of the area.

also in the story theres still wealth disparity corrupt and good old fashioned sexism.

so a we are following along with nelah we learn she has had an affair. has already gone through multiple miscarriages. multiple rounds of ivf. her business is failing. her body family is keeping an inheritance from her.

her an hubby decided that the next step should be an external artificial womb which costs them hella money they dont really have.

the next obstacle is nelahs government evaluation where they minority report test her to see if her body is eligible to be unchipped or I'd she needs counseling that could ultimately result in her being needed back to the consciousness waiting room as her body has to be scrapped.

it unfortunately does not go well. they ping the altercation with her brother and a possible future incident with her losing a child thats not hers. they pretend to let her go but actully keep her in a simulation that is a set up for her to steal a unattened child. and sure enough she does and is gonna be hauled off to mind jail but her husband intercepts and gets her set free.

this is where it starts getting bonkers. with all the stakes at hand she starts acting reckless for some reason??

she gets back with her affair partner and even escalates what they do together from just talk to drug feuled sex. which is wild bc even if her husband wasnt looking at her memories he still found out about the affair from coworkers. she turns down a major business deal for her firm even tho her employees are receiving half pay at the moment.

the affair might not be a crime but it would tank her and her husbands already bad public image and put their jobs in jeopardy which means she wouldnt be able to pay for her daughters womb so the gov would take growing baby for their body hopping supply.

and the drugs def a crime?? but also not zapping her??

so then her affair partner is like her babe I got this thing to hack your microchip so we can do even more crazy stuff and she is like idk seems risky.

she gives in and then he is all like ditch ur husband and get with me ill treat u right

and she is like idk i could be jumping from one bad situation to another and he is powerful its best not to slight him.

her affair partner is like no me and my family we are more powerful I can illegally get you a new body if you want. I can get your hubby demoted or promoted. I can stop the gov from takin ur baby.

side note the business deal she turned down was made by her affair partners dad. she turned it down bc he had rape allegations against him and used his influence to make them go away.

so the stakes are high af and the characters are messy af and I havent even gotten to the murder part of the plot ?!?!?

curious to see how tf its gonna get there and what mess the characters will make.

#seagoat says shit #seagoat reads things #Womb City #Tlotlo Tsamaase #womb city tlotlo tsamaase

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