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airdrophunting · 10 months ago

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Lost Dogs: The Way - A Guide to the New Game from the Creators of Notcoin

Ever caught yourself thinking your finger's worn out from endlessly tapping the screen in yet another Notcoin clone? Familiar with that feeling of disappointment from the monotonous "clickers" flooding Telegram? If so, you're not alone. Many of us wonder: are there any creative developers left who can make something truly worthwhile?

Amidst a sea of faceless "tappers" doomed to fail, a project has emerged that genuinely deserves attention. Meet Lost Dogs: The Way, the latest creation from the minds behind Notcoin.

What makes this game stand out from the crowd? First off, it's backed by the team that brought us Notcoin. That alone is enough to make you take a closer look. But the real kicker? Lost Dogs: The Way isn't just another clicker. Here, you'll dive into a world where game theory, social engineering, and mathematics intertwine. And yes, there's a dash of gambling addiction too - because why not?

In this article, we'll take a deep dive into the world of Lost Dogs. We'll dissect the game to help you squeeze out maximum benefit and enjoyment. We'll explore various strategies, learn how to pick the best cards, and of course, discuss how you can make some money playing Lost Dogs. And for those thinking ahead, we'll also ponder the prospects of WOOF tokens being listed on exchanges.

Game Rules

The essence of the game is simple, yet incredibly engaging. Every 24 hours, you're presented with a choice of three cards. Your task? Guess which one will be chosen by the average number of players.

This is where things get interesting. To win, you need to do more than just figure out what to vote for in Lost Dogs - you need to anticipate other players' behavior. Imagine we have three cards: A, B, and C. Now, if all players agreed to only choose card A, we'd easily determine the most popular card. But that wouldn't help us find the middle path in Lost Dogs, would it? On the other hand, if everyone decided never to pick card C, we'd know for sure which card is least popular. But again, this doesn't give us any information about the middle card.

The real trick and challenge of the game lie in creating a distribution of choices where one card ends up in the middle in terms of popularity. That's why a simple agreement doesn't work. Which card should you choose in Lost Dogs? To determine the middle card, players need to make different choices while somehow coordinating their actions. Moreover, the more players act chaotically or "randomly", the harder the game becomes for those trying to apply a strategy.

It's crucial to understand that there's no room for chance in Lost Dogs: The Way. Everything depends solely on players' decisions. In essence, it's an experiment based on people's ability to cooperate and develop strategies to influence the overall outcome.

How the Economy Works

The game uses three types of currencies, each playing its unique role. Let's take a closer look at each currency:

WOOF - This is the main coin of the game. You earn $WOOF when you guess cards correctly, complete tasks, or simply log into the game daily. How to cash out Lost Dogs? Given that the project is backed by the Notcoin team, there's a high chance that $WOOF will become a real cryptocurrency and be listed on exchanges.

BONES - These are the game's "chips". You always bet BONES on cards, regardless of whether you're using NOT or not. Your BONES supply refreshes every 24 hours, giving you a new chance at victory.

NOT - It's important to understand: you don't directly exchange NOT for BONES. Instead, by investing NOT, you increase your share in the pot. If you don't use NOT, when you win you only get access to 10% of the pot and a small amount of NOT and BONES. But if you've invested NOT, your reward in case of a win jumps up to 90% of the pot!

Game Strategies in Lost Dogs

The currency system makes the game multi-faceted and opens up room for various strategies. Let's look at three main approaches that players tend to follow:

Risk-Free Strategy

This strategy is suitable for those who aren't willing to risk their NOT. You play only with the "free" Bones that refresh daily. Yes, you'll get a minimal amount of NOT for your wins - just 1-2 coins. But don't underestimate this strategy! You're still earning a decent amount of $WOOF. And while this currency might seem useless now, don't forget about the long-term perspective. If $WOOF does end up being listed on exchanges, your patience could be rewarded.

High-Risk Strategy

For thrill-seekers and those after big wins, there's an option to play "high stakes". Here, the main focus shifts from accumulating $WOOF to increasing your capital in NOT, which already has real value. However, remember: despite all the elements of strategy and math, this game is in many ways similar to a casino. Play responsibly and risk only what you can afford to lose.

"Advanced" Strategies

There are more complex approaches to the game, including using multiple accounts to create "arbitrage" in bets. We don't recommend resorting to such methods as they may violate game rules. However, if you're not new to crypto and fully understand all the risks and consequences, then by all means, go for it.

As you can see, Lost Dogs offers opportunities both for crypto newbies who want to earn some cryptocurrency without risk, and for experienced "crypto-heads" ready for more serious stakes.

How to Increase Your Earnings in Lost Dogs

Look, regardless of whether you're playing with real money or not, it all boils down to the number of BONES. As we mentioned earlier, whether you win or lose, the amount of BONES is fixed and refreshes once a day. But how much exactly this fixed sum will be depends on you. There are several ways to increase the BONES you're given:

Completing tasks. Check out the BONES section and complete all the tasks. Most of them are simple, but pay attention to the "Connect a wallet with $NOT" task. For this, you'll need a TON wallet with a balance of at least 125 NOT.

Owning NFTs. Lost Dogs has its own NFT collection. Holders of these NFTs receive more NOT.

Bonuses for "Gold" and "Platinum" status. If you have Gold or Platinum status in Notcoin, you'll also receive an increased amount of BONES.

Participating in squad battles. Additional rewards are provided if you're part of a successful squad. You can join your "favorite team" in this bot.

Referral program. Well, it wouldn't be complete without one 🙂. We think this doesn't need explanation - invite friends, get $WOOF directly to your balance.

There are also "boosts" in the game, familiar to us from other games. There are only 2 here:

For 50 Telegram Stars, you can change your card choice at any time.

For 200 Telegram Stars, you'll receive double $WOOF in case of a win.

Prospects of the Project and WOOF Token Listing

Our forecast for Lost Dogs is as follows: the listing will indeed happen, and the coin actually has a future. Here are several arguments for why this project is worth your attention:

Real value of the coin. Unlike many projects where people hope that "play money" will suddenly turn into valuable cryptocurrency, the situation here is different. Part of the game's economy is already tied to a real cryptocurrency - NOT. Thus, players are already assigning a "price" to WOOF.

Support from the creators of Notcoin. The project is being developed by the Open Builders team, which has repeatedly proven its ability to create successful products. Remember TonStarter Launchpad, Notcoin, Community - there's every reason to believe that Lost Dogs will be successful too.

Unique idea. Against the backdrop of many monotonous "clickers" without any particular idea or philosophy, Lost Dogs stands out with its concept and mechanics.

Doesn't take up much time. The game doesn't require constant attention. You don't need to check in every hour, turning entertainment into a chore. It's enough to log in once a day, choose a card - and that's it, nothing else is particularly required.

In conclusion, we'd like to give a small piece of advice: view Lost Dogs primarily as a game, not as a way to make quick money. Enjoy the process, the interaction with other players, and the strategic planning!

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the-firebird69 · 1 year ago

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It's turning out to be very cold here tonight and some people say forties and we say it's in the thirties and getting colder so there is something amiss what it is is the ships are turning on their engines and they are revving it up and we believe some of them are getting ready to launch up north and tons of people going up there because of the cold and they get it there's a huge number of four wheel drive vehicles that went up there gigantic and their outfitting them all it's a massive massive number and it's going to really wipe out pretty much most of the pickup trucks I think it ruined it's going to be three quarters of them globally it is not a great way to transport stuff and it's mostly illegal stuff so not a big loss but it's a massive number and not that great in the snow but we're getting ready in case we need to transport stuff and we did too we we have big trucks around this is a monumental occasion we're putting warnings out to make it very cold here tonight and below freezing so we do suggest people stay warm and indoors and with the doors and windows closed

-at the pseudo empire and clones are positioning to try and take advantage and the clothes have been doing it all day and some people noticed and have been moving into position and there's going to be a battle in Florida today tonight that's going to be very big in moments and we hear there's heavy gunfire in fort Myers. Our son and daughter do a little research and we see that they found evidence of massive threats on him and a tunnel access created off Cuba and our son and daughter thinks that that is to put the gold in from Cuba that was taken from mostly Florida and it's white gold and they believe it was used in the massive comet empire ship that might still be there the ship might still be there. And the world trade centers will might signify when JC plans to depart. And it's because when the water melts it will go down into tunnels and then it'll be pumped to back out our son and daughter feel that it will depart when the freeze out occurs in order to not sufficiently warm the Earth which would tell people that they were leaving or had left and they would just not have time cuz they've been found out

Thor Freya

Olympus

We have to get on this and we think it's real and we don't hear anything from the polls and that's a bad sign and we're beginning to take a look now they're supposedly a big s*** there

Mac Daddy

I know it's there and we did not build because of men and ships were not surviving in the huge huge tapper tap roots they're bigger than the entire Continental of South America and or North America they're gigantic he just keep that in mind

Tommy f

Were going to clear the board there's too many troops here by the pseudo empire. They're here in town there are several groups preparing to meet them and they're afraid and they're out guns and out mannnrd

Olympus

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sprite-and-the-bunnydragons · 6 months ago

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WHAT. YOU WERE A TAPPER TOO???

we’re not clones of each other, right?😂

did you have a favorite routine/song? I did a solo to Better When I’m Dancing by Meghan Trainor my last year of dance and got to go ham on a few time steps in the chorus, it was sm fun

and my dad’s a PT …

doing fancy footwork at PT and it's taking me back to my tap dancing days <3

#tap dancing #stormy’s scribbles #stormy’s life lore #yeah I think I could use that tag on this

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saggitary · 3 years ago

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Headcanon

Ok, so we all know that Ahsoka is older than the clones, but they all see her as a little sister because they all look and act like they’re in their 20s. But, Ahsoka has more life experience with like pop culture things than they do. So basically what if one time the Torrent Squad took Ahsoka with them for a night out in Coruscant and at one of the clubs, a song (I’m using Baby Got Back) started playing. Fives and Jesse start doing the intro and Ahsoka joins in and none of them think anything of it because most people know the intro.

Then they get to the actual song part (they all know “I like big butts and I can not lie” part so they all are singing it) and then it gets past that part and they all kind of tapper off because none of them know it past that part (including Fives and Jesse)

Then all of a sudden they realize that Ahsoka didn’t stop and they all watch in shock as she continues to rap the entire first part of the song.

Then Fives is all “how do you know the lyrics too that song?!” and Ahsoka just rolls her eyes and responds,

“I was probably listening to that song before you were even born.”

#clone wars #clone troopers #ahsoka tano #ahsoka and the 501st #clone wars headcanons #ahsoka is a little sister to the clones #but she is in fact older than them #and its moments like these that they realize it #fives and jesse #were like :O #she didn't stutter #i came up with this while listening to #baby got back #sag’s stuff

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garbagefarm · 2 years ago

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Garbage Farm (#42)

2023-03-17, Garbage Farm session #42 (I think), spanning from Summer 4 Year 4 to Summer 15 Year 4

Cast:

me (@mothmute )

E.B. (@salamand3rin)

Kimi (@2kimi2furious)

Highlights include, but are not limited to:

Alex is gonna start reading books and be a nerd now, to everybody’s horror

we’re out of wood!

Pierre called, says he has “the finest” seeds and produce

what produce is that, pierre??

Robin finished Pam and Penny’s new house!!

she spends some time rambling about the woodworking

we choose not to take credit, causing Pam to refer to their anonymous donors as “pure angels”

Robin evidently tells everybody anyway, ‘cause everybody seems to know.

“snitches get stitches, robin!”

Frucko isn’t visible in E.B.’s version of the cutscene, so she just sees me running around and doing a little hop

Should I buy shortcuts for $300,000? yolo

Harvey is nowhere to be found, it’s E.B.’s turn for garbage marital strife :(

We forgot to remind Kimi to make the fancy purple shorts

Haley sleeps through rock time when Kimi goes to use Emily’s sewing machine

Lewis is now afraid of and mad at Kimi

The ducks keep taunting us by going up to the edge of the pond ... and stopping.

Shane wants garbage money too, now, goddammit Robin

Speaking of Robin, she’s now hitting a cliffside with her hammer in the middle of the night

BIG WINE MONEY

Kimi likes jumpscaring Lewis

Marnie just giggles about it

I get caught with iron crumbs all over my face.........

(There was a train but I missed it)

Robin mailed me some wood, I guess she realized we direly needed more (we always need more wood)

New cows, Jumbus and Zartino

Kimi says Stardew’s random animal names are “so cursed”

I begin breaking down the keg-shed, but hitting each keg is taking forever

hey, what if I just set off a bomb to break them? I’m so smart :)

OH NO IT DELETED THEM I AM NOT SMART THIS IS A DISASTER

lmao RIP me, laughing about it is the only way to keep from crying

Emily mailed me a sea urchin!!

We were talking before the session about somebody marrying Emily just to get her very special hat, only to give it to a sea urchin — this is approval!!

Worst part of making new kegs is gonna be getting enough oak resin, so I plant a buttload of oak up by the train station

ugh I’m gonna have to make extra tappers...

(it’s my fuckup, I can take responsibility for it)

A rare crow is spotted on garbage farm, eating the fiber field.

I start buying my way out of my mistakes (specifically: iron, copper, some wood, some stone, some extra coal)

Kimi borrows Frucko

Alex and Harvey both want to know what their spouses are gonna put in the soup. I guess they haven’t been initiated into that level of the Garbage Mysteries

Starting another pond, I get a special line about how Robin’ll start the day after tomorrow, since she always takes festivals off. I don’t think I’ve seen that before, it’s a nice touch!

okay, I made a bunch of extra tappers

Luau day!!

The melons are ready, but we can leave those for the day after

Everybody is at the luau except for Pizza :(

Every year, the Governor says this is the best soup he’s ever had—

is our soup getting better every year? is the governor a liar??

“maybe he’s forgetful” shhhh my theories are more fun

“maybe he goes around complimenting towns’ soups”

“maybe it’s a new governor every year, they replace the old one with a clone”

The Bloobening!

(ask not for whom the berry bloobs; it bloobs for thee)

Witchcraft?? In Garbage Farm???

(it’s just a void egg, we’ve got void eggs at home)

more cows, Bollello and Matchu

This is not good weather for sports!

Kimi visits the desert for fashion!

(dweeb fashion, she gets suspenders)

“we got oak resin?”

... actually, no!

Kimi stays up crafting in the shed and dies.

Marlon says he found her face-down in the mud ... in our shed.

???

E.B. tries to pick up some batteries near the desert obelisk and gets sent to the desert, good thing there’s a bus

“who’s watering the fiber? you don’t need to”

I think it’s Elliott, actually!

starting to tap the new oak

I suggest a garbage derby someday

KEG TUNNEL is starting to come online......!

TO-DO:

fix my mistake ;_;

more kegs, also more preserves jars

Finish Kimi’s Hoe

if it isn’t finished already

Even more ponds??

We’re gonna need so many sea urchins

still need a big melon......

I mean I guess worst case scenario we leave the cauliflower up and try again next summer, right?

still need to venture deeper into skulls............

still need a prismatic shard for the museum???

#garbage farm #stardew valley

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lovewillthaw-j · 5 years ago

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Frozen II/RBTI discussion (1/2)

I’ve been encouraged by the recent likes on my Elsa/Ralph+Vanellope parallels post to finally finish this post which I started more than half a year ago. @super-mam-te-moc contributed ideas and encouragement for this post, thanks dear!

I can’t help but notice the parallels between Frozen 2 and Ralph Breaks The Internet (RBTI, also known as Wreck-it Ralph 2). These are both sequels to fantastic movies where the first installment established an incredibly strong bond between the two main characters (Elsa/Anna; Ralph/Vanellope), but by the end of the sequel, the two main characters are separated.

This first part will discuss the parallels between the movies.

The parallels

1. Fun times at the movie’s introduction

As the movie starts, we see the pair having fun and enjoying each other’s company. Ralph and Vanellope drink root beer at Tapper’s, race in Tron and spend hours talking with each other. Elsa and Anna have fun at the harvest festival and enjoy a game of charades.

2. Ralph/Anna don’t want things to change

From their very first scene, Ralph and Anna express that life is perfect and that they don’t want things to change. (Ralph more strongly so than Anna)

Anna: I dont worry [that nothing is permanent] because... well I have you and Elsa, and Kristoff, and Sven and the gates are open wide and...and I'm not alone anymore... // I’m holding on tight to you...

Ralph: Why would I wonder if there's more to life when the life I got is perfect? ... I wouldn't change a thing.

3. Early signs of Elsa/Vanellope feeling unsettled where they are

Also early on in the movie, Elsa and Vanellope express that they feel unsettled where they are. (Vanellope much more so than Elsa) Vanellope is outright bored, Elsa feels a pull but is unsure and afraid.

Vanellope: doesn't the very nature of our existence make you wonder...if there's more to life than this? ... // A new racing game would've been cool. ... // every bonus level's been unlocked [in Sugar Rush]. I know every shortcut. Man, I'd kill for even just a new track.

Elsa: ♪ I'm not sure I want things to change at all ♪ ...// ♪ Who knows deep down I'm not where I meant to be? ♪♪ Every day's a little harder as I feel my power grow ♪♪ Don't you know there's part of me that longs to go ... ♪

4. Big event happens!!

A big event occurs in each movie; in RBTI, Ralph’s actions lead to the steering wheel being broken and Mr Litwak (the arcade owner) pulling the plug on Sugar Rush. In F2, Elsa awakens the spirits and there are huge disturbances within Arendelle (the wind, the earthquake) driving the people out and preventing them from returning.

In both, there are irreversible consequences - the candy characters and racers of Sugar Rush are displaced, similar to the Arendellians. There are well-animated sequences of the massive exodus. And, since Vanellope is the “princess-ruler” of Sugar Rush, she is responsible for the well-being of all her subjects, just like Elsa is the Queen of Arendelle.

And of course, the big event forces the pair to go on a journey, to a new world.

5. Ralph/Anna start to display insecurity over Vanellope/Elsa

Again, Ralph does this much more than Anna; Ralph’s insecurity is, after all, the subject of the movie’s big climax and the title of the movie (his insecure “clones” break the internet) He starts by asking Tapper incessantly every 30 seconds whether he’s seen Vanellope.

Ralph: she said...being friends with me wasn't enough for her. Not enough? I'm a great friend! Right, Tapper? Right?

Anna: You've been hearing a voice and you didn't think to tell me? ... // You are not going alone. ... // I won't let anything happen to her.

6. The journey starts

Elsa and Vanellope are shown to be enjoying the new world (the forest, for Elsa and Slaughter Race, for Vanellope)

Elsa: This forest is beautiful.

Vanellope (talking about Slaughter Race): I know. It was so exciting!

Whereas, Ralph and Anna are preoccupied with not getting separated, and worrying over Vanellope/Elsa.

Anna: Where’s Elsa? I swore that I wouldn't leave her side.

Ralph: Hey, wait for me! Kid, come back! Wait! Hey! Don't leave without me! ... No, no, no. Me and the kid are like shoes and socks. Or peanut butter and bacon. One cannot exist without the other.

7. The third party (the Voice/Shank)

The third party isn’t introduced at the same time for both movies. In F2, the Voice is heard very early in the movie, when Elsa is standing at the balcony. In RBTI, Shank (Gal Gadot’s badass character) is only introduced in Slaughter Race, about 1/3 into the movie.

The third party is attractive to Elsa and Vanellope. (This is the point where I expect Elsamaren shippers to tell me that the third party is Honeymaren, which I’m totally cool with)

Ralph and Anna are aware of the third party and respond to it, albeit slightly differently. Ralph openly dislikes Shank; Anna can’t understand it, but respects that Elsa is hearing a voice.

Ralph: Oh, come on. I don't trust that Shank one bit.

8. Inevitably, conflict happens between R/V and E/A

As the journey progresses, Elsa and Vanellope are shown to have changing priorities and they don’t seem to mind the dangers of the new world. Ralph and Anna just want to protect their counterparts and appear chagrined that they (E/V) are so attracted to the “wrong” things (by their definition). Ralph openly says that he thinks V has been brainwashed. This clash leads to misunderstanding and conflict.

Here’s Ralph and Vanellope disagreeing over Slaughter Race and Shank:

Ralph: Man, oh, man, that place was scary. Vanellope: I know. It was so exciting!

R: No, exciting is when you smile. Scary is when you clench your butt, and my butt is still clenched.

V: Oh, come on, are you honestly telling me... that Shank lady wasn't the coolest person you ever met? Ralph: Cool? Name one cool thing about her.

V: Um, let's see, she looks cool, she talks cool...she drives cool, her hair is cool, her car is cool... Ralph: Wait a minute, are you saying my hair isn't cool?

In F2: Elsa tames Bruni and for a moment becomes mesmerised by the Voice and starts walking after Bruni (almost as if she’s forgotten that she came here with Anna and the gang), leading to the first heated exchange: “You don't want me to follow you into fire, then don't run into fire. You're not being careful Elsa.” Elsa also encounters the Earth Giant and again is mesmerised and starts following the giant, leading to another heated exchange: “Please tell me, you were not about to follow them!”

9. The big “betrayal”

In RBTI, Ralph realises that Vanellope has gone to Slaughter Race by herself and is talking to Shank behind his back (through the convenient plot device, “Buzzzface”, a video chat app) and he cannot deal with it. He feels betrayed and abandoned and fails to hear the wise words that Shank is dishing out. This leads him to formulate the plan of infecting Slaughter Race with a computer virus.

In F2, Anna gets pushed away by Elsa in the ice boat/sled outside the shipwreck. Anna is angry and feels that Elsa has broken her promise to “do this together”. I must confess, even as an F2 lover, I really didn’t like Elsa’s actions in this scene. Poor, poor, poor, poor Anna!! I have an idea for re-writing this scene to achieve the same final outcome with better treatment of Anna and more “realistic” behavior from the sisters, let’s see if I have the drive to complete it. (your encouragement would be helpful!)

Thanks for reading part 1!

#frozen #frozen 2 #ralph breaks the internet #Disney Frozen #elsa #anna #ralph #wreck it ralph #vanellope von schweetz #disney

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astral-multiverse · 2 years ago

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"He has a point" Tapper said before Knuckles cracked his knuckles and he uppercuts Omelette's machine, Brandon holding up his Emerald and all of his Avatar clones joined up into a ball

"Amy, would you like to do the honors?" Brandon asked

Team Trinity Superstars

@smashingveteransandnewcomers

Things have been kinda quiet after the Robotniks failed to use the Phantom Ruby to do their evil schemes. And it has definitely been awhile since any of them have seen the dastardly treasure hunter, Fang the Hunter and his two Hooligan allies. But evil geniuses never give up so easily, and they had a plan that would require their help

"Ivo, Omelette, I believe I might have come up with our next big plan!" Shelly said as she was at her computer, a robotic Cluck resting on her shoulder

"What is it, my dear?" Eggman asked

"I have had Metallix do some scouting and we discovered an uncharted archipelago! And from some of the shots that he was able to get, they have some ginormous fauna! Look!" Shelly said as she brings up a picture of a giant Flicky along with some smaller ones

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klauskalgreeves · 4 years ago

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Rakata Prime was an unaffiliated planet on the outer rim. Claims had been reported to the GAR that there had been a hostile invasion of separatist forces terrorising the natives, and the Supreme Chancellor had sanctioned that the nearest General and Clone division investigate these claims. Given their close proximity to the planet (being in the Outer Rim at the time) the 212th had been selected to inspect the nature of such allegations. Cody and a squad were sent ahead of time (with great displeasure to all those involved) as Obi-Wan and the rest of the battalion were needed to wind up on a humanitarian mission they were currently engaged in.

They had landed on the planet two days ago, having spent the first few days taking notes of the landscape and designing a battle plan. Rakata prime was a primarily dry planet, with extensive plains of nothing but farmland and rolling trees.

Easy enough to stay discrete if they stuck to the tree line. But with enough space to plant their heavy guns as a second line of defence.

In all it was the kind of planet Cody had seen a hundred times over.

Once he’s briefed the men he gives the order to press forward, standing back and watching as the troopers move out. His initial intention had been to comm his general in the quiet revive and give him a quick update before the fight begins.

This pause allows him to catch two stragglers fall behind.

He frowns, observing from his vantage point as the two figure seems to linger close to the tree line. The cleanliness of their armour is a straight give away that they’re both shinies: as is their demeanour.

From what he can see, one man is tugging at the others shoulder, helmet whipping back and forth in a way Cody knows is more nervous than observational. His partner is crouched on the ground, hand smoothing over something in the dirt.

Once it appears that the two are going to fall behind Cody starts forward, approaching the pair.

They don’t notice him straight away (something he’s going to have to take note of), but now he is closer he can half understand why. The shiny on the ground is fixated and the shiny trying to pull him away is muttering a nervous spiel of regulations, fingers of his spare hand tapping a nervous ‘click click click’ against his thigh plate in a way Cody is surprised the Kaminoan’s didn’t condition out of him.

“Find anything interesting?” He asks, crossing his arms and taking a step back as the pair shoot upwards instantly, fumbling to remove their buckets.

“Commander!”

“Sir! Commander! Sir!”

Both men are now standing at attention in front of him, which gives Cody a better chance to scrutinise them.

As he had initially distinguished, their armour is squeaky clean- not a scratch or battle tell insight. In fact, it’s painfully apparent that the two men haven’t even had the chance to settle onto the negotiator: the colours of the 212th are absent from their helmets.

The lack of time clearly hadn’t deterred the curious trooper from trying, however, given his paint-stained fingertips. A sloppy line of gold has been added to his companion's chest plate, streaky in a way that comes with using fingers instead of a brush. On his own armour, there is a slapdash attempt at what looks like a wave on his shoulder plate: though it’s clearly bled and looks more like he’s leaned against a wet wall.

Cody appreciates their attempts at individuality, though he is less than impressed by their carelessness so thus displayed.

“What’s your name, troopers?”

Gold fingertips answers first. “I’m jitter! Sir! Commander, I mean. My names Jitter.”

Nervous tapper answers second. “Click, Sir.”

‘That makes sense’ Cody thinks, inclining his helmet and purposely looking in the direction the rest of the squad is headed- now out of sight.

“Well Jitters and Click, you must have a good reason to be falling behind on your first campaign. I’d love to hear it, since it was clearly so important.”

Click begins talking before he’s even finished his sentence, fingers tightening into fists and relaxing. It seems the longnecks had tried to curb the habit after all.

“We are so sorry, Commander. We didn’t mean to fall behind; we can only apologise. We’ll join the rest of the men and report to you afterwards for punishment. Again, we're sorry. Come on, Jit.”

But Jitter doesn’t seem so inclined to move. The shiny hesitates, feet shuffling from side to side in a way that isn’t necessarily nervous. In fact, Cody would stipulate that the movements are not born from anxiety, but are a way of whipping up as much dust from the ground as possible.

“It was my fault, sir. Click has nothing to do with it. We’ll be on our way now; I only got distracted by the flowers.”

That pauses his impeding lecture, if only for the sheer irregularity of the sentence.

“The flowers?”

Instead of speaking Jitter produces a small white flower and holds it up in presentation.

“You’ve fallen behind and risked attack for flowers?” Cody asks incredulously, quirking his eyebrow.

Click’s face is now flushed, and Jitter seems at least abashed, ducking his head down to look at the plant in his hand. “I’m aware it sounds bad. It’s just... we’ve never seen one before, sir. I was only curious, see. We’ve been on Kamino this whole time- we didn’t know there was ground that wasn’t hard and that places didn’t rain all day. And I saw the flowers and got distracted. I’ve only ever seen them in a book, once. I didn’t know they were real things. But it's my fault we've fallen behind; Click doesn't deserve to be punished for my mistakes.”

Cody is taken aback, and the lecture he had prepared dies in his throat.

Sometimes he forgets what it’s like to be a shiny leaving Kamino. Perhaps it was different from him- he was CC class, and his training left absolutely no room or time for curiosity. But for many of their men it’s natural to be fascinated by all the little things life offers.

He’s never met anyone spellbound by dirt and flowers, but the innocence and childlike wonder are vaguely endearing.

Cody sighs, switching his gaze between the two until he starts to see them physically squirm before he beckons his head in the direction of the trees. “Hm. Well, Jitter, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time after this campaign to explore the exciting properties of dirt. But right now, you’re needed on the front lines. Move out, troopers.”

This seems to spur both men, and Click begins pushing at his brothers back, casting a thankful look at him.

“Sir, yes, sir,” they reply in tandem, straightening their spines and marching on in the direction the others went in.

Cody takes a moment to watch them, shaking his head fondly under his helmet before he follows behind.

Looks like he’s got another twin pair on his hands. If their anything like Waxer and Boil, he’s looking forward to getting to know them.

———

If Cody thought the battle was bloody, the aftermath was bloodier.

He stands amongst a sea of white plastoid that had once been reverently marked with gold markings- now stained red and splattered with mud.

Around him, the bustling sounds of equipment being packed up is eerily loud compared to the oppressive silence that comes with loss. As always, he feels a weighty sense of responsibility as he looks out at the bodies of his brothers: those he knew personally and those who had only just left Kamino. Death does not discriminate; he understands, but Cody is their Commander, and every battle his men die is another blow to his unwavering resolve.

Sighing heavily he scrubs a hand down his face, allowing a lingering moment to breathe through the brief flare of anger he feels at the fact they cannot recover the bodies and give them the funeral they deserve. Such is the consequence of war, apparently. His only solace is that they will have a remembrance ceremony later to share memories about their brothers who are now marching on.

It’s as he’s walking back to the ship that his attention is snared. To his left are two bodies: one thrown over the other. It is not unusual for some of the vode to defend their ori’vod or batch mate. However, what catches his eye is the unusual armour decoration- a poorly painted chest plate, streaks still visibly even under a layer of grime. His stomach drops instantly and he drops his gaze without much thought to the clone curled underneath, catching sight of painted fingertips curled around a fistful of dirt.

A crushed flower lies just out of reach, yellow this time.

Cody closes his eyes.

Here lies a body of a shiny who had only just stepped foot off Kamino. He didn’t know some places didn’t rain. He hadn’t seen vast planets of grassland; he hadn’t seen the great desert plains and the bustle of city planets like Courscant. He had barely seen any of this universe, and now he never will.

He died in the mud that he had found so fascinating only hours before, along with his brother who radiated nerves and careful consideration.

They were just shinies. They were just kids.

But the Republic don’t see them that way. They’re just soldiers, to them.

They’re nothing but buckets. Feet on the ground. Numbers.

Cody signs again, allowing one last moment to glance at the sad scene. Such is the way of war, he understands. But that doesn’t make it much more manageable.

It never has, and it never will.

He bends down, picking up the crushed flower and places it on Jitters chest plate. Then he straightens his shoulders and moves on, heading back to the ship so they can meet the rest of the 212th at the rendezvous.

——

At remembrance that night, no one comments on the freshly painted flower on his shoulder pad.

No one needs to.

After all, no one understands loss quite like the clones.

They don’t have possessions. They don’t have homes with trinkets and items. Memories are all they have, and dedications are all they can give.

Jitter and Click never got to experience much in their life cycle, but Cody won’t let that be in vain. He’ll live for them.

And from now on, he'll take more time to appreciate the flowers.

#okay this has been rattling in my head since I watched the episode #and is based on my last post #but i can’t stop being sad about the clones #ughhhh #anyway #the clones deserve better #commander cody #enjoy my oc’s I love them #I’m sorry I killed them #Cody is the big brother who’s long suffering but he loves all his brothers #the clone wars #my Drabble #this kinda grew arms and legs it was only meant to be like 500 words ahahaha #bad batch

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make-it-mavis · 5 years ago

Text

Homesick (Entry #25)

(cw: drug use, graphic descriptions of gore, blood, insects) ----------

01/11/88 11:01 PM

Hey.

I wanted more GC, and I wanted it quick.

For the first hit, though, I at least had the sense to wait and let my code settle back into place. Which sucked, big time. I came out of that first trip maybe a couple hours before the arcade opened, and I spent the whole work day in my den nursing the most brutal form of buff hangover I’d ever experienced. I had aches on my aches. It was like I’d done five full-body workouts with my guts full of rocks and my head in a vice.

Once the arcade closed, I actually fell asleep and stayed asleep, which was for the best. By the time I woke up the next morning, my body felt right again and my pupils had faded enough to be clear by quitting time, so Tapper wouldn’t be tipped off by an incriminating glow when I went to see him.

I did try to draw some portraits from memory during the day, but my brain was too fried for that to work. I had to wait until closing and chase down some Good Guys, ones that would probably cooperate if I told them what it was for. Whatever anyone thinks of me, everyone loves Tapper. Thankfully, I got one of Mario. Good ol’ plumber-pants sat still without much of a fuss.

Tapper was happy to receive the portrait, and I was happy to get paid. I smiled and waved and played along, before immediately going to break my promise again. I should definitely have felt bad about it, but I kinda didn’t. Nothing was more important to me than GC.

It’s really easy to fall in love with something that makes you feel the way I did in the last entry.

After that, I ended up thinking that GC could do no wrong. I thought that if I could manage a steady, controlled diet of GC, sleeping away my sobriety between hits, I could make a new, happy life for myself inside my own head. Maybe that would seem sad to the losers stuck in the arcade. All they would see is my body lying around, only ever getting up to get more GC. Looking at it with the mind I have now, that is sad as hell, not to mention impossible, and something I can hardly believe I liked the idea of stooping to. But at the time, I was like one of those pining romantics, madly infatuated with my new lover. I loved GC. I could see nothing wrong with spending the rest of my life with it. I probably would have married it, if I could have.

It wasn’t long before the honeymoon ended.

My second hit started out very much the same as the first one, minus the arousal. Nothing seemed different at first, but I felt good. All my sick feelings had been sucked away and my mood was climbing, so I felt compelled to get up and stroll through the woods. If I remember correctly, it really was a fair bit of time before anything happened. Long enough for me to forget I’d taken any buffs.

Finally, I found something exciting. A tree’s bark shone in a particular, familiar way -- I went over to touch it, and found red stained across the palm of my glove, yet again. Beyond that tree, even more were the same. They reminded me of the cherry syrup, of course, so I followed their trail through the woods. They led me right up to the edge of the map, where the accessible forest cuts off, and the out-of-bounds forest stretches into darkness.

I wondered for a moment why I’d been led there. I couldn’t go any further, and even if I could, none of the trees ahead had any red on them. Uncertain, I inspected a red tree a little closer, and immediately sneezed. It didn’t smell like cherries at all -- it smelled like paint. All of them did, as I could suddenly smell strongly. How I missed that along the way, I had no idea. I’d been following paint splatters the whole time. Once I turned to look into the dark forest again, I jumped a bit.

The trunks that had been clean not seconds before were now splattered with a full spectrum of pungent paint. I took a moment to take it all in and wait for something else to happen, but nothing did.

Seeing how the paint led further into the dark, I figured it had to be another trail. I’d been trying for years to get through the edge of the map, so it seemed impossible to follow. But I stepped forward anyway.

There was no wall. I walked straight through.

I only took a second to look back before continuing on. I’d been standing around long enough, and I don’t think my impaired brain could comprehend the gravity of what I’d just done.

The trail went on for a little while, until the darkness grew thicker. Curiously, the paint stayed just as clear and bright, but sank deeper towards the ground as I went, until it was just smeared under my feet. When I looked back to check out the colorful footprints behind me, I realized I couldn’t see the forest anymore. Apart from the paint and myself, everything was pitch black as far as I could see, in all directions.

My gut sank and my head churned. I may have mentioned I’m not really a fan of endless dark. Part of me wanted to lower to the ground and find a way to hold onto it, but I was relieved to hear something.

There was movement. Some fabric shifting, some heavy breathing, some soft, wet sounds. My blood rushed for a moment -- finally, it was time to pick up where I’d left off the previous time. I followed the sound eagerly, and quickly found another smeared paint trail. After a surprisingly long time following it, I finally found what I’d been looking for.

A little ways off, I saw an unusual but familiar sight. It was me, very much the way I looked in the mirror during the last dream, only fully clothed. I was lying down, and I saw a shadow bent over me, but it didn’t look like it was alone. I wondered for a moment how weird it would get if I joined, but the longer I watched, the more I realized that something was off.

My face was turned away. I wasn’t panting, I was heaving like a fish on land. I couldn’t see the edges of the figures, but they still looked a whole lot bigger than the one in the first trip. That’s when I noticed one painfully obvious, crucial thing -- the paint trail led right up to my clone. There was paint all around her, and every color imaginable swirled in a lethargic way like droplets of oil on its surface. And beneath her, a pool slowly spread out from her body. It wasn’t just paint.

It was blood.

The shadows were eating her alive.

My heart nearly stopped. I wanted to run, but I felt rooted to the spot. All I could do was sink into a crouch, covering my mouth in a desperate attempt to keep quiet. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t look away. I was forced to watch the ghostly monsters rip my look-alike into bite-sized pieces.

I heard fabric tearing and some sharp snaps. One of them had torn the lower half of one of her pant legs right down to her ankle, and had locked its jaws down on her calf, tugging hard. The others dropped what they were doing to dive in and fight over her leg, which shook the rest of her body like a ragdoll. They had been at her for a little while, it seemed. Paint spilled out of her open wounds as if from a broken jar, and as it did, the very color in her sprite seemed to drain out with it. She was gnawed within an inch of deletion. Heaping bites were taken from around her hip joint, eaten right down to the bone, all shredded and glistening in a garish rainbow. Her smock was torn right open, her tank top nothing but strings. There was a gaping hole chewed right through her white, wooden ribs, which were splintered outward like a broken cage. Through it, I could see a disgusting bulb of pink bubblegum that swelled and shrunk with her heaving breaths. Needless to say, the gore was a horrifying sight. Part of me was waiting for her belly to just fall apart and spill her gummy guts everywhere. But, honestly, the most harrowing sight for me was just a few simple cuts.

Your name once again stretched across her chest, weeping fun colors that practically laughed in my face.

It was then that the careless jostling of her body flipped her head to face me. I had to clutch both hands over my mouth when I saw her.

Her face was golden, bent, punctured, misshapen, bleeding from a dozen scratches. The same face I saw reflected in my warped paint can, the day of the attack. All things considered, she seemed pretty calm for someone being eaten. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was sweating, seeming to strain from the effort of staying alive.

Then one of her eyes cracked open, and she saw me.

Her eyes went wide as saucers, filled with fright. They darted towards the shadows, then back to me, and her breathing quickened. Even with a twisted face, the urgency in her eyes screamed just as loud as any voice:

“What are you doing!? RUN, DUMBASS!”

Her leg tore completely free of her body at the hip, and I screamed.

The darkness burst to light. All of it, in all directions, woke into a blinding, humming white light that shocked my eyes for a second. When I adjusted, I saw them. Tall, white, splattered with paint, standing alert around the severed leg, each staring right at me, were dogs.

I bolted.

Vicious, metallic barking gave chase not a second after. My first instinct, one that I’d forgotten was no longer an option, was to fly away. When I grabbed my brush, however, rather than finding red, orange, and yellow, I found nothing. Just a normal, dry brush, out of an empty can. I couldn’t believe it. I ran as hard as I could, beseeching my body to please, please just freakin’ fly. They were almost right behind me, just about close enough to snap at my heels, and I had no idea where I was going. There was nothing. Endless, white void.

Then, SPLAT. I quite nearly tripped at a splattering sound so loud, it might as well have been the beat of an enormous drum. I didn’t pause to look, but I found that I didn’t need to. The sound beat through the wide white world again and again, until the source spread into my line of sight.

Falling like raindrops the size of hulking boulders were globs of paint, all of them a mess of that infuriating red, orange, and yellow. When they hit the ground, they burst apart in a crashing splatter that colored the endless white like a canvas. The smell smacked into me like a brick wall, quickly reaching suffocating levels and making my vision blur with tears. I didn’t know what they meant, or how I was supposed to avoid them. I was just certain that one would fall directly on my head and break my skeleton into pieces.

Better than being eaten alive.

My worries were cut short. A drop fell not on my head, but right in front of me. I barely had time to see it. The next few moments came so quickly that my brain couldn’t even keep track of them.

The paint splash hit me like a full-body tackle. I was knocked back and fell hard. Before I could move, a dog drove its bony body down onto my gut, and… I don’t know how to explain it, but, just like that, we were falling. As if the force of its dive broke the ground under us.

Everything went dark, and my scream echoed with a metallic twang. I suddenly found myself tumbling down what felt like a metal shaft, with sharp angles and corners that beat the absolute hell out of my body, all the while tangled up with a nearly skeletal monster that I hadn’t even seen up close yet. But I didn’t care what it looked like. I was more concerned with the claws ripping through my clothes and skin, and the teeth snapping wildly above my hands as I pushed its throat away from me.

Then, within seconds, we shot through the bottom of the shaft, and crashed into the ground hard.

Dog-first.

The thing just barely broke my fall. My whole body slammed flat against the floor. Being profoundly disoriented and beaten halfway to hell, I found it incredibly difficult to push back up off the ground. But in the few moments I had to take in my perceived reality again, I noticed a few things.

One, the dog was gone. Its body wasn’t even there. All that was left was a huge splatter of white paint that soaked the front of my clothes, and a pair of hinged, golden jaws that looked like they might have been crudely cut from my brush cuff.

Two, I was in a weird, waxy, yellow room, and the walls ran with slowly dripping honey.

Three, there was a baseball bat lodged in the floor in front of me.

And four, barking was echoing through the hollow metal shaft above me. A second dog was on its way down, and I was right where it would fall.

I didn’t think. I just moved. With every ounce of strength I could muster, I leapt to my feet and grabbed onto the baseball bat, but that thing was stubbornly stuck. I planted my feet and yanked as hard as I could, and it shifted a bit, but not nearly enough. That barking was getting closer at a speed that spelled my doom. As far as I could tell, my very life depended on the stupid thing pulling free. So, I did the same thing I always do, and survived.

It all happened in a single second, in one fluid motion. I drove my foot hard into the floor that trapped the bat and finally yanked it free. The momentum whipped my body around and threw the bat behind my head into a loaded wind-up, the very moment that the horrid, snarling thing dropped down in front of me. It lunged at me, and a millisecond was just enough time to see a gaping, golden trap of jagged teeth and white fur stained with haunting rainbow blood, before I let my swing fly. I slugged that thing in the head with enough force to break those jaws apart at the hinges. Once more, its body burst into nothing but a pungent, white splash that sprayed me from head to toe.

I killed it.

The room was silent. The scramble was over. My entire body quaked so hard, I thought I would crumple to the floor. Apart from the night I was attacked, I’d never been so shaken in my life. But there was a strange thrill to my adrenaline, too, a sort of moxie. I killed one of those monsters, two if you count the lucky fall. Once upon a time, I’d been tied up and at their mercy, of which they had none. This time, I could fight back. This time, they ought to have been scared of me.

For a time, the barking stopped. I knew there was a third still alive, and I had no idea if it was still after me or not, so I was loathe to let my guard down. But I let myself look around.

The room was small. Big enough for a small sprite to live in, but still really small. As I mentioned, the walls definitely were yellow, but something in my head must have been knocked loose in the fall. For a few seconds, those yellow walls glitched and flickered a spectrum of crackling, blinding colors, pushing nails into my temples. As painful as it was, I didn’t think much of it. I’m not sure why.

I was in a beehive. If the honey wasn’t enough of a tell, there was a fat, fluffy bumblebee almost as big as me shivering in a corner, staring at me, clearly paralyzed with fear.

They looked completely harmless. But I was nearly killed and not in a trusting mood. I backed up and gripped my bat tightly. I asked them, “Are we gonna get along or are you gonna try something stupid?”

They buzzed.

“I don’t speak bee. You nod, understand? I’m gonna ask you again, are we gonna get along?”

They nodded vigorously.

I thought about it for a minute, decided I could kill a bee with my bare hands if it came to it, and let up on my stance. “Well, alright then.”

Just like that, without another word, they crawled up the wall and burrowed through it, out of sight. I called after them once, but decided I didn’t care. Instead, I addressed the multiple points of stinging pain over my body. From that scuffle during the fall, my smock was torn in several spots, opening up windows to dirty, ragged claw marks that sent blood trickling down. There were a few on my biceps and chest, but the very worst of them curved over my shoulder and onto my back.

The white paint splatters sure didn’t help the pain.

There wasn’t much I could do about the wounds, but I decided to ditch my smock. The way it hung on me might have gotten in the way if another fight came up. That’s just the way I was thinking.

That’s when I heard the click-click-click of a dog’s claws wandering around. It came from everywhere -- above, below, all around. It was the third dog. It had to be. I hadn’t killed it yet, and it got into the hive. I grabbed my bat and slowly backed around the room. I wanted to be ready for it, but I couldn’t even pinpoint where it was. I tried to harness that moxie again, that vengeful semi-bloodlust, but I was still anxious. To say the least.

“C’mon!” I shouted. “COME OUT!”

There was a waxy squeak, and a door split out from the wall. I let out a wild yell and leapt for it with a killing blow loaded. But it wasn’t a dog -- it was another stranger. I just barely caught myself before I could crack their skull in. It’s safe to assume they screamed, but, somehow, it sounded like silverware tumbling together.

I slowly lowered my bat and got a good look at them. They were another bug, an ant this time, all reddish-brown with an orange chest and black butt. Not as cute as the bee, which peeked out shyly behind them, but they didn’t seem all that hostile. They had all four weird “hands” up in a pacifistic way, and they were braced in a long stance, as if trying to keep their body as far away from me as possible. Once I eased up, they emitted a sound like someone scraping their knife and fork together.

“...Uh...huh,” I said, backing away from their extended hands. They were confident enough to advance a little bit, but I pointed my bat at them. “Now, you stay right the hell there. Not another step ‘til you tell me who you are. In English.”

They looked affronted for a second, and gestured to themself with a metallic squeak. Their sound-language was starting to piss me off.

“Oh, for Litwak’s-- I don’t understand metal, damn it. I don’t have time to-- Wait.”

I paused to listen to the nails clicking around again. The ant squeaked, but I shushed them. “Listen. Hear that?”

They shook their head.

“There’s a dog. There’s a dog in the hive,” I said, following the sound. “I took out the first two, but there’s still one more. It’ll come after me, so you’d best clear out if you know what’s good for ya. This is my--”

I saw it. Right behind the ant and bee, in the low lit corridor, it bent its spidery legs to stalk down low, and it looked right at me with a disgusting golden grin gaping wide.

“THERE!”

Everyone jumped, including the dog. It instantly scrambled, slipped, turned tail, and ran. There was no way in hell I was letting it get away. I lunged for the door, but I was blocked by the ant waving their arms in front of me. I rammed my foot into their gut and dashed past them in pursuit of the monster.

I followed its footfalls up a couple spiraling passageways, until they fell silent. I ended up in a corridor much like the one I entered below, although I took a moment to notice that the wax was quite thin at several points in the walls, with dim, warm light glowing through. Little rooms just like the first one, I figured. My cowardly opponent had to have been in one of them.

Flipping my bat in my hands, I crept past the rooms. That aforementioned vengeful semi-bloodlust really began to boil over. I just yearned for the satisfaction of killing the thing that quite nearly killed me. It was an odd feeling. I’d never had the actual intent of killing something before, outside of self-defense. But I told myself that this thing would kill me if I didn’t kill it first, so, in a way, it was still self-defense, I figured. I hadn’t become unhinged. My actions were completely rational.

So, feeling securely justified, I started whistling. “Here boy. C’mon out, now.”

I only stopped when I came upon a light that felt cold. The dog was just on the other side of the wax. I was sure of it.

So, I hit a hole in the wax and kicked it through. Sure enough, it was there, arching its back hard into the corner. Finally, I actually got a solid look at it.

I immediately wished I hadn’t.

I didn’t see it so much as I felt it. Looking directly at it felt like squinting against dry, freezing air, and its pixels seemed to shudder and blur as if my very eyeballs were shivering. Its fur was a dead, icy white, stained in colorful blood. Every part of its body was long to the point of being grotesque. I could barely focus on its paws, but they looked far too long and bony, more like gnarled hands than anything else. Its face redefined hideous, and I was glad to not get a clearer image of it -- there were holes where ears should have been, a blank slope where a nose should have been, wide, quivering, pitch-black eyes over drooping lower lids, and, of course, those hinged, golden jaws. Calling it a dog was generous. It was no ordinary sprite, no creation of the Devs’. It was, in its entirety, wrong.

It was up to me to correct it.

“There you are, you spineless hellhound,” I sang as I advanced on it slowly. Staring at it felt like inhaling ice water, but I endured it to enjoy the sight of my fear so afraid of me. “Aw, you look so scared. Like you’ve seen a ghost,” I spat, “Spooky, huh? You gonna cover your eyes? Or, maybe you’d prefer to be blindfolded. Yeah, and then I can chew your legs off. You could even tell me your master’s name so I can cut it into your chest. How’s that sound?”

Its hand-like feet pushed and slipped against the honey-slicked floor. It visibly shook, blurring its pixels even more, while it let out a loud whine that was like rusty brakes.

“Oh, shut up,” I said. When it screeched more, I stomped. “I said shut UP! This is nothing compared to what you did to me. A sick, miserable monster like you doesn’t even deserve the mercy of a quick death, but every second you’re alive is a monumental waste of memory.”

Close enough to end it, I raised my bat, and with every ounce of venom in me, I said, “Now, get the hell out of my head, you filthy dog.”

A red-hot claw clamped on my right arm. I shouted and dropped the bat, which clunked to the floor, and the dog immediately bolted. I was angry, I was in pain, I was confused -- even more so when I twisted around to see the ant holding onto me. Only now, they had big red lobster claws in lieu of hands, one of which grabbed the bat and tossed it away. They weren’t squeezing hard, but the contact hurt in a way I didn’t understand until I kicked them away from me.

“Why the hell did you do that?! Why’d you protect that thing!? Who are you?!”

They rattled in response, but I froze. Everywhere on my arm that had made contact with their claw was sharply tingling. I was conscious enough to remember how being touched makes me feel, but this was so, so much worse.

In a ring around my forearm, there was a dense team of tiny ants. Burrowing under my skin.

Naturally, I screamed.

“What-- WHAT THE HELL?! WHAT DID YOU DO!? WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!?”

I ripped my glove off and intervened. I dug my nails in as hard as I could and scratched. The ant came at me again, but I ordered them to keep away from me, maneuvering away as I had to. Every second, I could feel all of their tiny pinchers cutting away at my insides and digging deeper. The feeling alone made me want to throw up.

Finally, my skin broke and peeled away like plastic wrap. I ripped all the way around the ring and, without pausing to look, shook all the bugs out. They went flying around the room and disappeared into the honey. I stood there, panting, my mind sort of rattled, my head starting to seriously ache.

“Devs, my head… Listen,” I said to the ant, “I don’t care who you are, what game you’re from, or if it will get you unplugged. If you do that to me again, I will tear your skinny limbs off and bleed you out. You hear me?”

They nodded quickly.

“Damn straight.”

Even with the bugs gone, my arm still hurt in a different way. I had clawed into it, after all. But when I looked at it, I didn’t find blood. I found feathers. Shining, red feathers pointed out of my skin. I’ll admit that I got a little excited. I picked a bit more at the ripped skin, and, sure enough, more feathers unfolded. I could feel them under my skin, all over, if I squeezed and prodded. They slipped around under my touch.

“Hey,” I said, chuckling weakly and lifting my arm. I found that I could fan the feathers up and down just by tensing my muscles. I pointed to it and looked at the ant. “How cool is this?”

Then I turned my hand around, and my palm caught my attention. There was a rip across the fabric of my glove, and a single red feather unfolded from a slit in my skin.

That’s around the time that things turned upside-down.

The pain in my head spiked so hard, it felt like a stake slowly driving into my skull. My vision cut in and out with crackling binary, until it gave one hard flash, and my surroundings made a sudden, staggering shift. In a split second, I found myself outside the hive, as if I’d teleported.

Really, I’d just lost a chunk of time.

My heart was pounding, though I wasn’t sure if it had been from exertion or adrenaline. I had no idea how I went from there to wherever I was. But I stood before a disgusting sort of marvel. There were hills and hills of rotting fruit as far as I could see, all of which was crystalized, looking almost candied. Up above, the sky was nothing but a sea of shifting, buzzing flies, shimmering like polished pebbles.

I paused and looked at my arms, some feathers poking from holes that weren’t there before. I wasn’t sure what was happening to me, and I didn’t have my bat anymore, so I was a bit wary of moving forward. With nothing else to do, I found myself walking anyway. The rocky fruit clicked together under my feet in a very unstealthy way, and part of me wondered if I’d wake a garbage-dragon protecting their garbage hoard. That’s when I heard something.

Dragon or not, there was a sprite somewhere. I heard fruit clicking and snapping over a hill, and a deep rumbling sound similar to a mug sliding across a countertop.

That’s all I saw of the rotten hoard.

There was another stabbing pain, another flash, and I lost another chunk of time.

Next thing I knew, my vision was cutting in and out. I was screaming something, but it was too choppy to remember. The main thing I remember is that I felt the bugs again, over every inch of me from the neck down. I was on the floor, I think, thrashing and scratching.

Flash.

I was back in the hive, in another small room with the same ant from before. I was standing on what could only have been a table. I was panting a bit, and the ant was a safe distance away, also winded, as if we’d just had a chase around the room. They squeaked and scraped a bit louder than they had been before. I still didn’t understand a word they said.

I was clutching my arm, holding it up for them to see. More and more of my skin had been pulled back over feathers, and, remarkably enough, my fingers were curled into pearlescent, white bird claws.

I shouted something. I don’t remember what.

Flash.

I had a blanket over my shoulders. My fingers were bare, cold, and slick. There was a destroyed piece of cherry pie on a plate in front of me, and I was enjoying the feeling of its insides on my skin instead of eating it.

I think from here on in the dream, my brain really started to shut down. I got pretty stupid and embarrassing, and, honestly, I don’t think I absorbed a whole lot of what was said to me, or even what I said. There are hard-lined blips of dialogue that are just missing from my head. I’ll cut them out as they happen, moving forward.

I only caught the tail end of myself telling what felt like a long story.

“--and two fingers in here, comparing side by side with your eyes closed, I promise you couldn’t tell the difference.”

I was looking at Fix-it. Plain ol’ Fix-it. I was in his plain ol’ apartment. Apart from a few things knocked over, everything was where it should have been for a moment.

Fix-it sat across from me at the table, his hair a mess, his eyes rimmed red from either crying or lack of sleep. He leaned his cheek heavy into his palm and seemed to be fighting with all his might to keep his eyes open. There was coffee in front of him, but I got the impression that it had gone cold.

I was very disoriented. I had been facing down an ant mere seconds ago, as far as I could tell. I had no idea how I ended up there. Part of me wondered if it was real. I wondered if Fix-it was real. I squinted at him, as if I could read his code if I tried really hard.

“Fix-it, is that you?”

His eyes drooped. “Mm-hmm.”

I just stared at him, surprised at his tiny response. I actually found it a little unnerving.

“Fix-it, wake up. You’re creepin’ me out.”

His eyes opened, and he studied me for a second. With a defeated sigh through his nose, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Uh, Make-it Mavis, weirdo?”

At that, his face turned hopeful, and he straightened a bit. “Do you know who I am?”

“The Hammerhead. Duh. What’s the matter with you?”

He held his chest and thanked the Devs for a moment. My head throbbed, and for a second, his sprite flickered in every direction. He reformed with black eyes and pinchers for a frame, then creepy bug arms, then he was covered in ants, and then he was just himself again. I took a deep, steadying breath, wanting to ask the very programming what the hell that was.

“Okay, Mavy,” he tried to smooth his hair, and spoke carefully, as if this wasn’t his first attempt. “Can you tell me… what you remember about this evening?”

The question seemed easy, but the answer was slippery. I sucked my teeth, pinched my brow and wracked my brain. “I was just… there was an ant. They were trying to ---------- had a sort of, like… bird hand.”

He nodded slowly. I continued.

“They put bugs ---------- tore them out. I somehow ---------- of dead fruit and a sky full of flies. I had a monster dog cornered--”

I jolted up. “The dog! It got away! Where’s my bat!?”

“Mavy, Mavy, Mavy!” He lifted slightly from his seat, hands up. “It’s okay! It’s okay. Please, stay seated. Relax.”

“No! No, no no, I can’t relax! There were three, and only two are dead!” I gripped the table, my bones rattling. “The last one’s ----------! It wants my color!”

Fix-it paused. “Your… color?”

“My color! The color in my veins!”

“Your blood.”

I flew into a sort of panic induced rage. “My COLOR! They eat color! The entire kaleidoscope’s inside me! Don’t ----------?! I am color! I AM COLOR, DAMN IT!”

“Mavy, listen to me carefully, okay? Just take deep breaths,” he said softly and clearly. It seemed to me that he’d been saying that a lot that night. “You’re safe. You’re in your own game. You’re with me, and I’m not gonna hurt you. Okay?”

“No,” I said, and snatched up the fork next to my plate. “Just look -- this is what they want!”

He jumped to his feet. “Oh-- Mavis, no, no, don’t!”

I slammed my left hand down onto the table and drove the fork into it. It was like stabbing into a thick, dense steak that spit buttery juices. There was no pain at all.

Fix-it squealed in alarm. He rushed over, but I stuck my foot out. “You keep away from me! Look with your eyes!”

“Mavy, you’re bleeding!”

“I know! Look!”

I yanked the fork out of my hand and held it up for him to see. Looking like a peculiar bite mark, a neat row of holes spurted yellow and orange paint that ran down my arm.

“You see?!”

Then it just turned red.

Flash.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wreck it ralph #fix it felix #make it mavis #original character #homesick #watch out this ones wild

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