#tdf tale

[alien-aisha-vending-machine]

Theory: How Neoquest was the first appearance of the Wraith threat.

i've always had the theory that the madness/dark magic from the two ring castle -> dark magic that infected darigain -> the madness that affected modern neopians during TDF -> wraiths & how it's all related to faeries being a possibly unnatural presence in Neopia

Part 1: Neoquest, or, "What do you mean Neopia is post-apocalyptic?!"

NQ1 is possibly the earliest version of Neopia we have or have ever gotten (if one doesn't consider Tyrannia as "a slice of the prehistoric era".) Notably, it's never been "debunked" in the same way that NQII has (tho, aspects in NQII imply that there are some canon aspects, or that the story itself is true- while the version we PLAY is a re-enactment or simulation.)

Though, while these days, Neoquest, (be it 1 or 2) is often considered "fictional" within the worldbuilding, a lot of early site lore really leaned on Neoquest for it's foundations. Toys, weapons, stories. monsters... a lot of this was based on Neoquest. it's a story that's been long forgotten by the site itself, but I still feel that in terms of the greater story of "Neopia", it is the most reliable glimpse into the ancient past and the sort of idea of what Neopets' original trajectory was.

It's also notable as being a version of neopia without the influence of Faeries. In fact, most neopians are neopets, and not a faerie is found in all the game.

Neopia is described ingame as a not-so-friendly place that is swarming with monsters and animals.. many of which are other neopets. The structure of this version of Neopia is very very interesting, as instead of faeries, it seems like it was ruled by a Council known as the "Circle of Twelve" who used what was known as "circles" of magic instead of the more well-known schools of Faerie magic (Fire, Ice, Shock, Spectral, and Life magic vs the Faeries' Dark, Light, Earth, Air, Fire and Water magic)

The lore goes back even further, mentioning a Great Empire and a Civilization known as Keladrian- a civilization of powerful wizards that was ancient even before the already-ancient Great Empire.. which was 1000 years ago during NEOQUEST.

Upon using the amulet on Faleinn, the leader of Kal Panning, she has this to say:

So ultimately, after a great scuffle between Kal Panning and the Circle, the Circle destroyed Kal Panning over the course of a month- afterwards, they realized what they had done and their leader, Jahbal, was banished to the Two Ring Mountains- from therein he used his evil magic to... corrupt the outside world. This long-form campaign to ultimately reduced the world to a few pocket civilizations, wrought with monsters.

A lot of the monsters are very clearly neopets, though- mad, mindless, and slowly warping from their less-crazed counterparts. They are sort of.. feral, in a way. Why.. it seems to remind me of...

Notes to Carry Forward:

No Faeries were present in Neoquest times, or before then either.

... note that there is no Faeries in Tyrannia, either.

Neopia thrived on Wild Magic.

Neopia, at this point, is a twice-over post apocalyptic civilization

There is a Dark Magic spell that is causing Madness, Mutations, and Violence.

Part 2: Champions of Meridell, aka the one without Kass in it.

Meridell is planted firmly "in the past" described ingame as a forgotten land of heroes. With Meridell and it's surrounding areas being such big players in the larger story of Neopets, it's easy to forget the world of Neopia is a very modern sort of place.. roughly pre-industrial, and while these days- Meridell and the other fantasy-themed lands often stand next to other lands as if they exist in the modern settings, Access to these areas are through a time portal.

I find Champions an ultimately more interesting tale than Battle, as it's the introduction to Meridell as a whole and contains a hugely important aspect of the land. Meridell was once suffering under famine, and under the advice of a seer, the King sends his knights to locate an Orb.

Meridell, which was once ridden with disease and famine, began to burst into life and lush greenery.

It's notable that Skarl does not know, or does to wish to share the fact that he knows, that the knights he sent to retrieve this orb had ultimately stolen it from the kingdom of Darigan.

When the orb was stolen, Darigan took a huge dive-

seemingly ending up worse than Meridell ever was. But.. why? Why did Darigain's citizens mutate when Meridell did not? Perhaps the orb was used to suppress something darker? More ancient?

In the Twisted Histories Capsule Adventure, we are presented with an alternate timeline where Meridell was defeated by Darigan. I think it's genuinely one of the coolest set of items ever introduced (the whole alternate timeline thing as a whole), as it not only implies that Darigan not only defeats Meridell, but merges with it to become one land....

Another aspect I would like to point out is that as Darigan citadel approaches Meridell, Spiked tentacles begin to grow and thrash.

Notes to Carry Forward:

A magical orb is used to bring health to the land around it.

While no faeries are explicitly mentioned in the story, we know Illusen is around, and that an air faerie saves jeran in the direct sequel.

Without the protection of the orb, the land turns Dark and pets begin to mutate. Ultimately, their leader falls to madness.

prev mentioned spiked tentacles.

Part 3: The Darkest Faerie, or- why is all the best lore hidden in the TCG?

There is a lot of lore snuggled away in TDF. It's one of my favorite cornerstones of Neopets' history- even moreso than Neoquest. A lot of it's personality does get lost in the game, but the cards are a huge contributor to really getting a glimpse into what the world was intended to be.

An interesting aspect is the concept of becoming "Tainted." Not only can pets and petpets be "tainted" but so can locations. In fact, with spiked tendrils echoing the corruption of both Meridell and Darigain in Champions, it makes it easy to draw comparisons.

In-game, the pets simply turn purple and their eyes glow, but the cards show off some more intense mutations.

That sounds a lot like "Darigainification".. except possibly more intense. The land withered, pets mutated and went crazy, and darkness fell. The designs look very similar to darigan as a color.

Note that this darkness.. didn't start when The Darkest Faerie was released, mind you. It happened after Illusen was dispatched... and one of the major quests involves a magical orb that is used to dispel the darkness.

Faerie Magic is suppressing this darkness. Perhaps specifically earth faerie magic... These Orbs- both Illusen's and the nameless one that Skarl/Darigan has, are possibly infused with faerie magic and are keeping the darkness, whatever it is, at bay.

"This, the orb that froze her in time. Fyora used it to turn the darkest faerie to stone, and imprisoned her under the sea."

With Illusen's Orb (Globe ig) and Jerdana's orb (revealed to originally belong to Fyora) being sugnificant players in the story, These orbs are very clearly a huge thing for Faeries, either powerful or special in nature.

Stepping aside to a really obscure concept, Darkest originally was an ally to the altadorian council, before her dive into betrayal.. but what caused this? This book seems to suggest that she.. dug too deep, perhaps. Maybe she too went mad with what she knew- I think in that sense, she was a lot like Xandra... well, speaking of-

Notes to Carry Forward:

A magical orb is used to dispel dark magic from the land.

Without the protection of a faerie or their artefacts, the land turns Dark and pets begin to mutate.

It is implied that Darkest fell to madness, and she uses this magic to try and destroy the land.

While not depicted in-game, Altador and Meridell are infested by spiked tentacles.

Part 4: The Faerie's Ruin, aka the one that killed off Hubrid Nox (the only sugnificant thing that happened in this plot for realsies 100% no foolin')

So, we all know and love the faeries ruin. and I'm not gunna play recap since tumblr is already starting to lag at the length of this post. But ultimately, when the faeries were turned to stone.. what began to happen? Dark creatures began to crawl from

Xandra may not have been right, but she may have been onto something.

Her neopedia entry says a lot. Neopets ruled by a Neopet? I think once upon a time, the world used to be like that.

...without the faeries' power holding Neopia together, dark creatures emerged and preyed upon the very Neopets that Xandra hoped to empower.

In the wraith resurgance, it is canonized that Neopets can become wraiths- or at least, wraith-like. However, I struggle to accept the resurgance as genuine to the canon, since it a post-staff-purge/Jumpstart-era plot. Plus, it's impossible to navigate what is left, so it's hard to glean info about it.

Stars above, the Ruin plot really did have some of the most gorgeous art neopets ever put out, huh?

Notes to Carry Forward:

Without the protection of the faeries or their artifacts, the land turns Dark and monsters begin to infest the land.

Neopets can adopt the form of these creatures. While Darigan pets are corrupted, they also exist as a color outside the lore. It is unknown for sure of Wraith pets are corrupted like Darigan pets are.

Xandra, while initally "well-intentioned", ultimately falls to madness, and she uses this magic to try and destroy the land.

Part 5: So.. what are you saying?

So, I'm just gonna cut the guff and state my theory outright: Jahabal's Curse from back in NQ still plagues Neopia to this day, and the only thing keeping it from destroying the world is interference from the faeries & their magic. The curse is the direct cause of turning neopets into monsters, and the corruption timeline as Feral and/or Tainted -> Darigain -> Wraith.

I don't think it's all intended. But I think it's interesting how this all slots together super easily.

[aspen-heights-wc-rewrite]

Master Post.

Basics/goals of the rewrite

So the point of this is to fix some issues I have with the Warriors books, and also have some fun. So here’s a slightly more detailed list! Not exactly in order of importance, it’s just which order it comes to me while eating dinner.

Let’s stop the super creepy age gaps. They’ll either be changed to be a super small age gap or treated as seriously as possible for the absolute horror they are- if not removed completely.

Some timeline issues/characters disappearing or appearing in between books. Heavy step still gets to un-die though.

Deal with the ableism in ThunderClan.(I specify ThunderClan as they’re almost entirely the one guilty clan.)

GIVE THE CLANS DIFFERENT CULTURES ALREADY(like how it’s implied in the first series)

Let’s deal with the xenophobia

Deal with the sexism in Warriors

CHARACTER ARCS(OR FAILED CHARACTER ARCS) FOR ALL

Let the leaders die a lot more often and cycle through

Character. Interaction. Is. Necessary.

Hey, let’s NOT have incest.

Nursery tales stay for longer!

Rules applicable to the rewrite

They’re cats with nigh magic medicine and know how to for the most part avoid dangers that lower the average life span of stray cats so they get an average of 20 years of life, average of 30 if a leader doesn’t loose lives to anything but complications with old age(which won’t happen besides a very few cases)

All cats who believe in StarClan have a basic connection to them, but upon touching noses with the moonstone/moonpool this connection is strengthened to a point of easy communication

All the after lives are normally connected, but StarClan/TDF are weird- as in they’re not on the earth like other after lives. They’re in a different realm of existence, so for this dreams are sometimes re-routed to peer into it. Other dead cats can roam the earth for as long as they want or can ‘pass on’ and forever live in their dreams but as far as everyone else is aware they’ve ceased to exist

Cats get vaccines from 6 weeks old until 4 months old so any former kittypet who’s been around humans at that age before leaving definitely gets the vaccines, and even those who become kittypets later in life then leave get them too. For sake of funnies they don’t need the revaccination

They actually have to note the status of any invading cats/predatory animals/prey to make sure it doesn’t have rabies or anything.

They can make basic tools. They have seemingly human-level intelligence. So they can make a lot of more rudimentary stuff, and working teams can even make stuff like very basic toys. They can probably carve soft wood too. Pretty much if you can make it with your thumb taped down and small knives on your nails they can probably make it.

Each life a leader gets corresponds to a different life they have to deal with, but it’s selected based on which one is more useful in that moment. So if they’re given compassion, patience, justice, and bravery in that order but then die to a fox they go right to bravery being added in and the rest still remain. This does unfortunately cause a lot of extra problems resulting in deaths each life has an overwhelming push. So in this example there could be a flash flood with a warrior in the middle where trying to jump in would spell certain death, the leader would jump in without hesitation.

Reincarnation does not happen.

The cats can just sleep and wake up whenever as long as their duties are done. The only times they are needed to wake up at a certain time are for dawn/dusk patrols, battles, gatherings, and ceremonies.

The time line will be mostly the same

Important things to note/lore changes needed to be known

The Code of the Clan stories are actually going to be canon! Sorta. Since SkyClan was kicked out the leaders came up with new history stories to remove SkyClan and just came up with the Code of the Clans things. They’re commonly used to teach kits the warrior code and why it’s important(most cats who join the clans at apprentice age or older just get the code told to them so it doesn’t hold the same weight. This leads to more setting it aside for what’s right)

StarClan can actually be completely clear with what they’re saying, but they only are told the future by Midnight who isn’t always available and sometimes deems it begs to not get involved so they make up super vague prophecies to try and make it seem like they’re helping. Only a StarClan ‘council’ knows about this and is allowed to speak in dreams. It’s about 5 cats for each clan

Tags you’ll see

#aspen heights rewrite

Everything gets this lol

#aspen heights- design

Designs for characters and places!

#aspen heights- LORE.

From tidbits of information to plotting out 7 years of battles this is all stuff that will feature in Aspen Heights

#aspen heights

Actual project stuff! Like writing or art

#asks

Just responses to any asks i might ever get somehow

Important Posts

N/a

[rawk-chikk]

Just raided the PSN sale and added even more shit to my ever increasing backlog of games lol.

At this rate the PS6 will be out before I get round to buying a next gen console...tho I'm srsly considering jumping back over to XBox these days.

Right now I'm taking another stab at Like A Dragon. I wasn't really feeling it the first time, but I took time out to play other stuff and I'm more engaged with it now. I recently brought LAD: Ishin! and the sequel to Judgement as well, so there's a whole lotta Yakuza in my future.

Also nabbed Two Point Campus, TLD: Tales From The Far Territory, a bunch of Lego games, and loads of other fun stuff.

Between all that, writing, crafting, and real life stuff, I am a busy busy little bee. I'm doing a stupid lil something with the TDF game models in my downtime, but it is sloooooow going coz it's fiddly as balls.

Two weeks til I'm off on my hols 😲.

[lost-tanuki-whump]

Prompt Challenge: Out in the cold Cast: The Disaster Five Word count of the chapter: 6,4k

***

His small body laid inanimate in the humid ditch where they'd left him to freeze to death. The stench of slowly rotting corpses surrounded him. The cloudy green skies above ebbed back and forth in distorted waves as his vision blurred again and again. He wheezed faintly in the cold, tiny bursts of breath rising in irregular bursts. The muzzle cut deeply in his blistering, infected skin and his waterlogged fur pulled him down deeper in the muddy trench. It hurt. Each desperate inhale, each heave of his narrow chest felt like it might be the last. He was so tired.

He'd stopped shaking a while ago. He didn't know how long he'd been lying there and he was scared that they'd throw more bodies on top of him, and he was scared because he was lying on top of a mountain of bodies himself, and he was scared because he knew he was about to die and there was nothing he could do about it. Something inside of him dully ached, a longing for his forgotten past, for a time when everything had been soft and warm and safe. But it hurt too much. It was too cold. It was too lonely. He just wanted it all to be over.

There was the sound of heavy footfalls from a distance, and then it stopped, and something landed in the ditch with a dull thump. A big shadow appeared on the edge of his vision moments later but he didn't try to look at it. It would be too tiring. The shape shortened and came closer. An arm, then, stocky and furry and brown, reached down to touch him. He thought of snarling. He didn't move, because all he could do was lay there and breathe slow and shallow.

"Oh..." The arm shifted, and then a hoarse call rang out in the still air. "I've found one!"

Silence. It felt short and eternal at the same time. Then a quicker set of footsteps approached and a modulated voice from above exclaim in a pleased tone: "A fuli! How rare."

"Did I do good?"

"You did great. Bring it up here, be careful not to hurt it."

Giant hands scooped him off the pile of corpses with ease. His body loudly protested at the jostling and he hissed feebly from within the thick arms that were cradling him. Pain burned anew along his muzzled snout where it rubbed against moist fabric that covered a large chest, but he was too weak to move his head away. He couldn't move his limbs to claw at the person holding him. No one reacted to the noise he'd made. Maybe they hadn't heard it. He felt everything around him move, his body rocked painfully, the person holding him grunted a few times as they climbed out of the ditch and then stopped again.

"Let me see." Fingers lightly touched the side of his muzzle, then laid on his chest. He couldn't fight against the unwelcome touch. The light voice said: "Ah, it doesn't seem to have much time left. We have to hurry."

The rocking started again. It hurt too much. Everything was spinning and cold. The voices talked but he couldn't listen to anything anymore, and then he just stopped hearing.

* * *

A soft chiming sound woke him up from his slumber. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the pale light that surrounded him in peaceful shades of green. His entire body was heavy and aching so he didn't try to move. He was lying on a firm, soft surface and it was warm. He felt very sleepy. Something flapped ahead of him and his ears pricked in the direction of the sound, a faint alarm pulsing through him. He sluggishly moved to see where the threat was standing.

A tall, thin man was sitting in a chair in front of him. His skin was an opaque green like the surface of a pond at dawn, his ears were long and membranous, and his short feathery hair shimmered like dark oil. He wore clothes of clear blue and teal fabric draped over his arms and chest and lap. The man lifted a vibrant green gaze to him, and from the inner corner of two of his three eyes grew thin curved appendages that hung down to frame his mouth. A genial smile appeared on his lips.

"Hello."

His voice was the same as the light one, but he was speaking in sounds that were very familiar, more than those of the language he'd used earlier by the ditch. He closed the strange flat box he was holding in his long hands to put it aside, and then he gracefully touched thin fingers to his scaled chest.

"Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Asther. I know you are a fuli, so you must have the ability to understand this language." He then gestured towards him. "Can you tell me your name?"

The fuli's mind flashed with red when he saw the hand move towards him and he snapped his jaws at it, but he was jerked back at the neck and fell over. He froze when he realized he'd been able to snap his jaws. His mouth wasn't clamped shut anymore.

"Now, now," lightly chided Asther as he tranquilly retrieved his hand. "I mean you no harm. I won't touch you unless it is absolutely necessary. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The fuli kept a wary eye on the man and slowly, carefully sat up to take stock of the situation. He didn't have a muzzle anymore, but when his paws reached up to feel for the thing that had pulled him back when he'd lunged at the man, they touched something supple that circled all the way around his neck. He gnashed his teeth together and a low growl rumbled at the back of his throat. He knew what this probably was, but he was confused by it because it was similar to a collar but wasn't as hard or as restrictive as the ones he knew. It didn't hurt. It didn't choke him and was a bit loose, but was small enough that he couldn't slip his head out of it. He didn't try more than once because he was too tired to keep trying to push and pull at it. The fuli ended up slumping back down in the soft sheets that surrounded him. He was so hurt and exhausted that he couldn't even sit up for long. He growled low in his throat again, as a warning. The man didn't react to it.

"There was no need for that horrible device they tied to your face, but as you can see, we needed to put this on as a precaution. Poor things like you have a tendency to bite for any reason at all once we've brought them out of the trench. It is to be expected," continued Asther. "I promise that I will take away your collar once that habit of yours is gone. Now, do you have a name?"

The fuli continued eyeing the tall man, tense and on edge. He understood what was being said but he didn't answer. Couldn't.

Asther's smile softened. "That's quite all right, many don't really like to talk at first. I will call you Fenn. Can you tell me if there are any injuries in particular that are bothering you, Fenn?"

The fuli suddenly realized that while he was hurting all over, his snout wasn't burning anymore. He quickly touched light paws to his nose and felt the mess of dried blood, scabs and scar tissue beneath his fingers, but... it didn't hurt. And he felt better, not hazy like before, not like he was burning up. His vision was clearer and his surroundings were neat. He looked up at Asther, confused. Was this the man's doing?

A creak rang out and the fuli jumped, his head snapping to the other side of the room where the wooden door had opened. A heavyset individual with amber eyes and a few sharp teeth protruding from a strong jaw hurried inside. The fuli recognized the brown fur on those stocky arms and realized this was the person who'd carried him out of the ditch.

"Asther," the stranger started, and then he cringed when they all heard a crash and shrill shrieks coming from behind him. The fuli burrowed further into his sheets, hackles raised, lips pulled back in a snarl. Now that the door was opened he could hear all the noises coming from beyond the room and he understood that there were many more people in this place. He didn't like it. He'd have to fight soon.

Asther turned to the newcomer, his three slanted eyes narrowing slightly, and said in the language they'd used at the ditch: "Cohb, I told you not to disturb us."

"I'm sorry, but Nit and Sann are fighting again, Cadd got hurt, Senn is afraid, Orn went to hide and I don't know what to do," answered Cohb in a rush. His eyes were wide and his pointed ears laid flat against his skull. "I cared for Cadd but I couldn't find Orn and I need help for the rest, they won't listen to me!"

Asther slowly pushed back his chair before standing up, the distance between them widening enough that the fuli didn't feel that he needed to prepare for an attack, and ordered: "Come with me, then."

"What about the fuli?"

"He will be better alone here than if you stay behind with him. Come."

Both men walked out and the wooden door closed on their backs. It was quiet anew. The fuli stayed on his guard for a long while before he was sure that no one was coming back yet, and he let himself fall back down on the bed. The collar didn't make noise. It was different from the metal one. It didn't hurt, just like Asther hadn't tried to hurt him.

Fenn.

It was different from the words like "rat" and "runt". Asther had said it calmly. It sounded like a normal word. Did it mean something, or was it really just a name? The fuli gazed up tiredly at the wide ceiling patterned in dark blue lines and spirals against white ceramic. The light was gentle. He was tired but he didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to be caught off guard when they'd come to throw him in another fight. He knew it was only a matter of time. He'd have to feed soon.

* * *

"Wake up, Fenn."

The fuli jolted awake and jumped back with a loud hiss, readying himself for a kick. It didn't come. He didn't recognize his keeper until he realized that the person standing in front of him was not his keeper at all, and that he wasn't in his cell but in the bedroom. Asther hadn't moved towards him. He was holding a flat tray with four bowls on it. It smelled good.

"I brought you food. There's a little bit of everything, you don't have to eat it all if you don't want to. Here," said Asther as he slowly lowered everything on the bed. He'd changed tongues again and the fuli couldn't help but feel a little more at ease hearing this language rather than the other one. It was comforting in its familiarity and tugged at an aching spot in his chest. Still, he remained cautious as he watched every one of Asther's moves very closely. Food like this was usually a trap. He waited for the thin hands to lash out and grab him, ready to bite and claw, but they didn't. Asther simply straightened and stepped back.

"I'll let you eat alone now, but we'll have to talk again once you're done. Most importantly, Fenn, you have to know that you will not fight anymore. This is the way you'll be getting your food from now on, at set hours of the day and without needing to get hurt or to hurt anyone for it." Asther pointed at the fourth bowl, graciously and carefully as always, as if to show what he was meaning to do before even completing the movement. "This one is water. You'll have to finish that bowl, Fenn, because right now that is what's most important to your recovery. Do you understand?"

The fuli watched him but didn't move or answer. He didn't trust any of this. Asther gazed back, and then instead of getting angry for his lack of cooperation, he smiled gently like earlier.

"I can tell that you do. But you're scared, aren't you? You've suffered a lot and it's difficult to believe that all that is over now. I understand. It's all right, however, we'll keep you safe." Asther showed him the door. "You heard a lot of noises out there, earlier, and that must have scared you. They're all people like you so you don't need to fear them. When you're ready, I can even let you meet them. But for now, all I ask of you is to eat, drink, and rest. Perhaps you'd even like to clean up at one point. Doesn't that sound nice? Your fur is a mess so you might not be able to groom it all by yourself, but I could help you."

The fuli quickly glanced down at himself. His fur was still exactly like it had been in the cell, matted, crusty, filled with knots, mangled in many places and not even looking like fur anymore. He could see the filth he'd left behind on the sheets. He warily looked back up at Asther and growled. He didn't want help. He didn't want anyone getting close to him.

Asther promptly appeased him. "Now, now, don't get upset, I won't do it if you don't want me to. We're not there yet, anyway. Go on and eat."

The tall man turned around and left just like he'd said he would, and the fuli was left staring at the four bowls all by himself. The smell of food filled the air. Saliva pooled in his mouth and his stomach clenched painfully. He hesitantly shuffled out of his nest, stopped, glanced at the door. No one was coming. He looked around the room from his spot on the bed but it seemed he was truly alone. He double checked, just to be sure, and then scooted a little closer. He slowly reached out with one of his front paws, poked at the closest bowl and quickly retreated in his burrow of bedsheets. He listened closely to his surroundings. Nothing happened.

The fuli emerged again and poked at the bowl a second time, then at the other bowls, but still didn't get in trouble for it. Finally he grabbed one, brought it back with him in his makeshift shelter, plunged both hands in it and started stuffing his mouth as fast as he could. He sullied the bed with his messy eating but didn't care or notice, too busy filling his belly, getting more ravenous with each bite as his body was finally given the nutrients it had been denied for so very long.

When Asther returned long after, everything was gone, even the crumbs that had fallen everywhere in the bed.

"You seemed to have liked the food," observed Asther as he came closer to retrieve the tray. "Was there anything you liked in particular?"

The fuli peered at him from his burrow. He hadn't really noticed if one thing had tasted better than the other since he'd been too focused on finishing everything. It didn't matter anyway.

Asther stared at him for a little bit and then lightly nodded as if something had been said, and he put the tray on the table near the chair which he sat in next. There he stayed silent, watching the fuli.

"Maybe you are afraid to talk to me," Asther eventually said in a soft voice. "Or maybe they've made you forget that, too. I wonder how long you were made to wear that horrible muzzle. Too long, certainly. Poor thing." He looked away, his pale lips set in a thoughtful line. Everything was quiet. Then he looked back up and said: "I won't ask you to trust anyone, of course, not after everything you've gone through. However, Fenn, I think it is of the utmost importance that you relearn things like talking, grooming, socializing, playing. You are not a brainless fighting animal. You are a very young, intelligent fuli. We can help you remember that with a bit of time."

Asther stood up again and went to the side of the room opposite to the big wooden door to stand at the corner where a smaller, narrower door was located. He turned to look at the fuli to show him how he actioned the handle and then partially stepped inside.

"This is the bathroom. I know fulis are very adept swimmers, so I think you would enjoy it if I ran you a bath. It would also help untangle your fur and make it easier to groom if you soaked in water for a little while."

Asther disappeared from the fuli's view, who listened attentively to the sounds of very light squeaking and then loud running water. The sound sparked sudden memories and he remembered wet grass, sunlight, rolling pebbles and a babbling brook. His dark paws in the water, wobbly beneath the current. Slick, perfect gray fur. Splashing. Laughter.

The fuli blinked and the image vanished, leaving behind only the sight of his now damaged skin. There had been a time when he'd been perfectly healthy and happy. He remembered it. His heart ached. There had been the water currents and the wide expanses of grass, there had been others like him, there had been... It didn't matter. He couldn't think of those things. It hurt too much to think of those things when he was trapped and could never go back. He'd been caught and injured and starved and made to fight and he'd killed and maimed so that he could just survive, so he could just eat, because he didn't want to die.

But he didn't have the muzzle anymore. He wasn't in the cell anymore. There was food and water in his belly and he felt better than he had in a very long while. Strong enough, maybe, to run. The fuli was suddenly hit with the realization of what this meant. He could go back. He could find a way.

His decision taken, the fuli braced himself against his collar and pushed. It was too small to slip past his jaw, but not by much. He slipped his claws between his neck and the collar to try and pry it off, but it remained stuck. His fur was too dry and knotted for the collar to smooth over. The fuli growled to himself in frustration and started clawing at the supple fabric. He hurt himself in the process, enough to draw blood. It was only an inconvenience until he noticed that it made everything more slippery. It was helping.

Asther stepped back out of the bathroom. "Now, Fenn, I'm going to- Fenn?"

Panic fueled the fuli's frantic attempts at escaping the collar when he saw the tall man was looking at him and he scratched at his own skin with renewed vigor.

"Fenn! Stop that!" Asther raised his voice for the first time and rushed forth to stop him.

He grabbed the line to the collar just as the fuli finally popped his head free and rolled away from the man in a hasty, uncoordinated flurry of limbs. He tumbled off the bed and hit the ground hard enough to be stunned for a few precious seconds, but then the sound of Asther's footsteps hurrying around the bed sent adrenaline coursing through his blood. He suddenly shot up and ran. The room wasn't big and the wooden door was closed so the only remaining option was to hide under the table, and the small fuli quickly slithered beneath it. Asther didn't chase after him.

"Fenn," he called out. "I know the collar is not something you like, but it's only there to ensure you won't bite anyone. Do you understand? I am not putting it on you so that you can't move. I could let you roam freely around this room if I was certain you wouldn't try to hurt me or anyone who lives here."

The fuli hid far against the wall and waited, shaking. It wasn't that he was cold.

Asther sighed. "If I'd known you would rather hurt yourself like this than ask me to remove it, I wouldn't have put it on in the first place. Come out, please. You've hurt yourself and I'd like to assess the damage."

The fuli looked around. The table wasn't an ideal hiding spot at all, and under the bed would be better, but Asther had very long arms and it seemed that he'd be able to try and catch him either way.

"You can hide under that table as long as you want, Fenn, but I'm not leaving until I've had a good look at where all this blood is coming from."

The lacerations he'd inflicted on his throat throbbed and he could feel blood still trickling down his dirty fur, but it didn't hurt. All the fuli wanted was to get out of this room. He watched Asther's flat palmed feet and the bottom of his thin legs move away from the bed and back into the bathroom, but stayed put. It was obviously a trap. Asther would wait until he got out from under the table to try and catch him again, and then he'd probably find a tighter collar to fit him with and there wouldn't be another chance like this to be free.

The fuli waited. There were sounds coming from the bathroom, like Asther was rummaging around in a cupboard. He felt too exposed under the table so he crept closer to the edge and, once he was sure that the coast was clear, darted to the bed and scrambled to hide far in the corner. It was darker here, but it felt narrower and safer. Asther didn't reappear. The fuli looked around yet again, hoping to find some opening he hadn't yet seen, but there were none. All he could see was the dribbling trail of blood he'd left behind. He was truly trapped in this room.

When Asther came back, he crouched next to the bed. The fuli felt his hackles raise when he saw the three green eyes stare at him, and a low growl spilled from his throat as the man's long arm unfolded closer, but all Asther did was drop some clean towels in front of him as well as some squares that smelled strongly of herbs.

"Fine, you win. I want you to stop that blood from flowing, all right? You have to clean it away with the towels and then you'll stick one plaster to each big wound. You can do that, can't you, Fenn?"

The fuli glanced at all the supplies and then back at Asther, mistrustful. What if he tried to grab him while he was distracted? He wouldn't fall for that.

The man pointed a finger at him. "Just do it, will you? And do it well. If it's still not done by the time I come back then I'll have no choice but to do it myself."

Then Asther got to his feet and walked around the bed to go open the wooden door, and he left the room for good. The fuli waited for a bit before he hurried to the towels. He remembered how to quell a blood flow, he'd been taught- didn't remember when or how but he knew. He bunched one of the towels and pressed it to his throat where the throbbing was most intense, and with his other paw he picked up one of the strange squares. This, however, he didn't remember ever having seen before. He brought it close to take a quick sniff and scrunched up his nose because the smell was overpowering. Then he tasted it with a quick flick of his forked tongue and immediately threw his head back in disgust.

It was definitely nothing he knew about and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to use these. He let go of the square and let it flutter to the ground, pressing the towel harder to his skin with both hands, and he waited. It started to hurt after a while, as if his skin was starting to work again now that it wasn't buzzing with nerves anymore. He withdrew the towel a few times to check, and was satisfied to note that the bleeding was lessening even without the use of Asther's medicine.

The fuli decided that now was a good time as any to freely investigate the room since his movements were no longer limited by the collar. He scampered out of the cover of the bed and made a lightning round of the bedroom walls and even of the bathroom, and then returned to his starting point next to the bed. He looked up. The high window seemed to be taunting him, showing him the green open skies of an outside world he couldn't reach. The fuli settled on his haunches and then stood on his hind paws. His attention had been drawn to a part of the window which looked like some kind of puzzle. Even if it was obviously meant for Asther's height, he estimated that he could close the distance if he jumped to it from the table.

The fuli dropped the towel and skittered to the chair to push it closer to the table, then easily jumped up on the seat and then the table top. From there, he studied the window part. The only purpose he could associate with it was a latch but it seemed like a particularly complicated one to use, with some kind of knob and slide system. That was fine, he could figure it out. The fuli took a moment to assess the leap between the table and the latch. He wouldn't hurt himself from this height if he missed his target and landed on the ground, but he wanted to manage it in one go. He couldn't afford to lose time when Asther could come back at any moment and see what he was doing.

He backed up to gain momentum and then shot forward and lunged off the table. One of his paws slid off the latch but the other managed to grab onto it and his shoulder jerked. He quickly scrambled to hang from the window by all four of his paws for a more secure grip. He pushed and pulled at the latch in every direction until finally, he felt it give under his fingers. He pushed to slide it free and then focused on the knob. He failed several attempts at deciphering how it worked because no amount of pulling, pushing, wiggling or biting helped, but somehow he ended up actioning it the right way when he was changing positions because the knob turned between his foot and hand and he heard it click. Turning. That was what it was!

The fuli turned the knob all the way around and felt a thin draft slip between the window and its frame, and he knew he'd succeeded. He quickly kicked the latch free and swung his body back and forth to pull the window all the way open, jumped down, climbed up the chair and table again and threw himself on the windowsill. He took in the wondrous sight of the outside, felt the cold air against the wet patches of his bloody fur, stinging his eyes, and he stood there bewildered by the strange appearance of the landscape. Everything was covered in a layer of flat, pure white matter, thicker in some spots than in others. It looked soft. He'd never seen anything like it before.

The fuli shook himself out of his stupor and looked around him. The strange airy white matter was also layering the window stool in front of him so he cautiously reached down to touch it. It was cold and it didn't hurt. He scooped some up to sniff and taste it. It wasn't similar to anything he knew but it made him think of metal, somehow. At any rate, it didn't seem dangerous and he needed to leave. The fuli started cautiously scaling the way down along the wall, pausing every time he heard a suspicious noise, and he managed to reach the ground without getting caught. He hopped down into the fluffy matter, only to feel his body weight crush it into a more compact consistency. This stuff really was very strange, but he decided that he liked it because it would probably be fun to play in it with another person. But with who? It was a useless thought, he was on the run. The fuli focused on making his way out of this place and darted forward.

It was difficult. Even if the stuff was light, it still hampered his movements and slowed him down, on top of which it left an easy trail for anyone to hunt him down. He understood that the stuff was solid water because it had started to soak his fur where it melted, but he didn't care as much about that discovery as he cared about the fact that this meant he was all wet and that the blood that was washed away was staining the footsteps he left behind.

The fuli started to get cold and his body grew numb, but he didn't stop. He avoided all the living beings he could avoid. He tried to hide his tracks as best as he could by climbing through and over shrubbery and fences, up trees so they'd break the trail, always on the move even though he had no clue where he was going. The plan was to put as much distance between himself and anyone who'd try to catch him, maybe find a place to hide and rest, and then seek out information on his whereabouts. He had no idea how exactly he'd go back to the place that he wanted to find again, but he'd figure it out.

His progress slowed considerably the longer he spent out in the cold. He was getting hungry and tired again. Even though he'd stopped bleeding, he felt weak. It was very cold and his head felt like it was stuck in the muzzle again, except there was no muzzle, he made sure all the time. Still, there was a tight sensation like a vise all around his skull. He was shaking so much that he stumbled and fell a few times. He remembered how warm he'd been in that bed. He half-wished he could be back there, if only he could be certain that no one would force restraints on him again. No, he had to go home. He had a home somewhere, he remembered that. Where there was laughter, and babbling brooks, and grass on warm sunny days. Others like him.

The fuli tripped and hit the ground, and this time his body felt too heavy to get up again. He was a bit dizzy, a bit drowsy. His tail swept up some of the fluffy solidified water as he curled up right there. He couldn't feel his paws anymore, or his face, or his back, or his belly. It was nice lying here. He was warm and sleepy again. He was so very sleepy. He didn't want to have to move ever again.

"Fenn!"

The fuli made a face when he heard the voice calling his name from afar and curled up in an even tighter ball. He didn't want to be found, he was tired of being found.

"Fenn!"

He heard soft crunching sounds and felt defeat settle deep inside of him when the footsteps came closer and closer. He didn't uncurl, kept his face hidden under his paws. He heard, more than he saw, something heavy land next to him.

"No, no... Fenn?"

A huge hand laid over him, and then thick fingers slipped under his chin to coax his head up. The fuli blinked and saw Cohb's hulking shape looming over him.

"Oh," the big man breathed a sigh of relief. "You're alive."

The fuli tried to pull away from him but had no such success. Cohb picked him off the ground in one hand and slipped him inside the flap of his coat, supporting him with his other arm, and then started running back the way they'd come from.

"You're one crazy kid. Why did you run off in the middle of the snow? You had us worried, you know, and I wouldn't have found you if there'd been a new draft of snow! You could've died! What do I know, you might not even be out of the woods yet. Oh, I hope you're not sick. What did you have to do this for, we've been looking out for you! No, I know, I know it's never easy but-" He stopped, and when he spoke again, it sounded like he was trying to bargain with him even though he'd been talking by himself from the start. "Fenn, I know it's difficult. I've been there too. But Asther's a good person, he saves us. He saved me, and he saved all the others, and he's trying to save you too. Please let him."

The fuli heard all of it, but he was nodding off despite the running, and he fell asleep in Cohb's arms a second time.

* * *

Water sloshed next to his ears. He was warm and floating and it smelled of flowers. There was a male voice humming softly above him and tips raking through his fur. It felt nice and he shivered at the tingly sensation. The humming stopped.

"Are you awake, Fenn?"

The fuli blinked and looked up. He was in the bathroom.

"How are you feeling?" asked Asther. He was holding some kind of tool in his hand. When he noticed that the fuli was staring, he explained: "This is a brush. I was using it to clean your fur." He lowered it to the edge of the tub. "You got into quite a bit of trouble, didn't you? I really shouldn't have underestimated you."

"Are you warmer yet?" rumbled Cohb's voice above the fuli, who twisted around and noticed for the first time that it was the big man's hands that were holding him afloat.

Asther chuckled. "Well, seeing how nimble he is, I think the answer is yes."

"He was colder than an icicle when I found him," mumbled Cohb.

"Let's hope you didn't catch anything," Asther told the fuli. "But, if you did, it's all right. I have a lot of medicine, even if you don't seem like the kind to enjoy it very much."

It took a moment for the last dregs of confusion to clear from his conscience, but when the fuli finally understood the situation, his first reflex was to bite the arm closest to him. Cohb winced.

"Ah, there it is," said Asther as he quickly backed up. "Let him go."

Cohb complied and stepped back too, letting the fuli splash to the bottom of the tub. He quickly pushed on his hind paws to get his head out of the water, shook it hard enough to spray droplets everywhere, and then glared at them both.

"That's what you get for biting," Asther told him, and even if it sounded like he was trying to be stern, there was a smile at the corner of his lips.

"Don't worry, you didn't hurt me," said Cohb.

The fuli wished he had. He was very fed up of getting handled like that just because he was smaller and Cohb was bigger.

"Just so you know, the latch is blocked now," Asther informed him. "You won't have a collar anymore but as long as you keep biting, you aren't allowed to meet the others in the house. And you can try to run out of the room but we'll put you right back inside. No more running out in the snow, or in any other kind of weather for that matter, until you get your senses back. Is that clear?"

The fuli sunk back into the water and quickly eyed his escape routes before narrowing his eyes at Asther again.

"I know you don't agree with it, but after you put your life in danger today, you have to understand that this is for your own good." Asther went to the door. "We'll let you clean up now. Don't get into any more trouble, all right, Fenn?"

The fuli was also very fed up of being called a name that wasn't his. He didn't think when his mouth moved around words for the first time since he'd seen a babbling brook, didn't realized he'd talked before he'd already growled: "Not Fenn."

Asther stilled, and so did Cohb mid-step. Both looked at him.

Asther smiled at him approvingly and said: "Then what should we call you by? What's your name?"

The question rushed through the fuli like a cold wind. When Asther has asked the first time, there had been no words in the fuli's mind to fill the void of the answer he'd been waiting for. Now, after slowly getting closer to his conscious self that had been beaten down by the ring fighter, the fuli realized he didn't know. He realized that he'd forgotten. He'd forgotten his own name. He stared at them with wide eyes.

Asther's smile dissipated after too long a moment had passed. Cohb looked like he'd understood what was happening from the start, and his amber eyes were sad.

"Well," softly said Asther. "You understand that it'll have to be Fenn for now."

The fuli looked down and then curled up in the warm bath. The two men left.

Fenn miserably gazed at his ebbing reflection in the water.

[lost-tanuki-tales]

Trekking down the tunnels

Prompts: Exhaustion, Collapse  Cast: The Disaster Five Word count: 6.4k

* * *

Grenelant looked up from his papers and blinked muzzily, then realized he felt a bit dry. The opiel looked over to the side of his room and the clock- digital, they called it- showed him that it was already morning. Another fleeting night spent pouring over knowledge instead of resting without proper hydration... It was no wonder he felt so tired. The chair raked across the floor as he stood up, his webbed fingers a mere few inches away from touching the low ceiling when he stretched, and then he brushed down the many layers of fabric of his outfit to tidy his undesirably unruly appearance. He quickly and efficiently swept up the documents strewn about on the surface of his desk to form a neat pile on the side and left the room.

The ship was quiet in these parts, as it often was when the two humans went about their respective business. Grenelant was grateful for it. The less he had to listen to them squabble during one day, the better. He headed down the hallway for the sanitaries and felt around for nearby humidity, once again unpleasantly reminded of how inorganic this place was. His membranous wings flickered in troubled annoyance at the thought of spending such a long time aboard, so far from the marshes and rivers of his home planet. Nostalgia, in turn, dawned in his heart when his thoughts brought him back to his home and family. Grenelant missed swimming in the underwater tunnels which seamlessly connected with those on the surface, missed the comforting thrum of water beneath his wings, missed the soft flutter of fish drifting close to his skin, missed the fresh humidity of algous upholstery that was so much more comfortable than the dry chairs on this ship.

He promptly berated himself for allowing his mind to meander down such a wistful lane. Here in space, he was less of an opiel than he was Ophena's ambassador, and it really would not do for him to behave like a child. The Court had known this would be Grenelant's first interstellar mission yet they'd still trusted him to see it through, and so he would. He had to. He hadn't worked so hard all his life only to fail on his first real chance to prove his worth to the most powerful people on Ophena. Homesickness wouldn't get the best of him after a mere three weeks of travelling in a spaceship when they still had at least five months to go- and Grenelant tried not to grow to disheartened at the reminder that this was only in the best case scenario.

The opiel let out a discreet sigh as he checked on the water reserves again, a nervous habit he'd aquired five days after they'd lost the ship's external humidity collectors. Lack of sleep wasn't the only reason his skin was abnormally dry; he'd soon noticed the reserves and sanitaries hadn't been meant to take into account the needs of his species on their own, and so he'd had to make do with less frequent immersions, in more shallow depths than he would've liked. It had been enough, for a while, but now Grenelant was starting to feel the effects of neglecting an important part of his biology. He didn't want to give the earthlings reason to think he'd ever rely on them after the last fiasco he'd been forced to take part of, but he couldn't push it back any longer. Pride be damned. He needed their help.

"Captain Trust."

She spun around in her seat and her head tilted back to face him. "Leonida. We're just the three of us here! There's no need to remain so formal, Grenelant, I keep telling you."

Arkady was sitting in front of a panel on the far left of the control room, where he'd stopped rummaging for a few seconds to watch the tall amphibian step up to their captain. Now he was rolling his eyes as he checked the wires, and Grenelant heard him mutter to himself: "Here we go again."

Leonida shot him a look. "What?"

The man didn't look up from what he was doing and mumbled: "Nothing."

"Spit it out, Arkady."

He finally glanced at her. "Sir, no offense, but getting annoyed because Grenelant can't call you anything other than Captain yet won't change anything. It took me two weeks to stop calling you that and I still slip up."

"He's never called me Leonida and he's been here for three!"

And I was injured on the second by your fault, wryly thought Grenelant, but he kept quiet.

Arkady shrugged. "In my division our superior was on a total power trip, and we both know how the army goes in general. You can't expect me to drop the habit of calling superiors by their title. Not everyone's like you."

She crossed her arms. "You two are just the most stuck-up people in the universe."

Grenelant took advantage of the lull in their conversation to say: "You'll have to forgive me, Captain. Hierarchy is very deeply ingrained in the ways of my people."

"I think I'm beginning to get that," Leonida said with a little smile that was bordering on wry and teasing. "All right, Grenelant, what did you want with me?"

"There's an issue concerning our water backup supply."

"I don't know what you're going on about, I check the levels every day and there's enough for three weeks just like there's meant to be," said Arkady with a frown. "Why would you even check those? That's my job."

The subtext was clear: why was Grenelant lowering himself to the menial task of checking parameters within the ship when he was the ambassador, only here to sit around and symbolize the cooperation between two planets? Not to mention that this was an insult to Arkady's abilities as the ship's technician.

Grenelant faced him. "You've had enough water for your consumption, but not for mine."

"What do you mean?" asked Leonida. Her tone of voice was concerned.

"We lost the water processors on the outside of the ship and the regenerative system isn't nearly enough on its own to replace all our daily water consumption. My species requires frequent submersion in water and I can't reasonably deplete the reserves without putting us all in potential danger, which means I've had to restrain myself from following through with that habit. Unfortunately, I don't think I can hold this less than ideal rythm for much longer."

"Grenelant, why didn't you say anything before?" exclaimed Leonida, suddenly straightening in her seat. "How often do you usually need to do that?"

"Two times per day."

"And how many times have you been doing it?"

"Once every two days, and even then, it seems to be quite unreasonable of me to use so much water. I've been keeping the levels relatively steady but this won't do in the long run. I'm aware they aren't supposed to dip beneath 90% outside of an emergency situation and continuing like this will lead to violation of protocol if we don't find a solution to my problem."

"Are you all right?" Leonida was frowning now, her gaze calculating as it looked him over. "I thought your hair looked a little dry. Is it dehydration?"

She didn't sound worried, but rather like she was watching out for a flaw she'd need to fix. Grenelant preferred the captain's analytical concern over useless fretting, it made him feel less like he was doomed to be in their debt once they'd figure out a way to provide him with the water he needed.

"I'll be fine as long as this doesn't last. What do you suggest?"

Leonida glanced over at her second. "Arkady? Any ideas?"

Arkady had disappeared behind the panel again and he grumbled: "I'm not the smart one here."

"Well," she said thoughtfully, like she hadn't actually expected him to say anything worthwhile, "I guess we'll have to see if there's another planet we could land on to get water earlier. I would've made sure the reserves were bigger if I'd known." She turned around to step up to one of the screens and asked: "Why'd you keep quiet about this?"

"I didn't realize it could get this dire. Obviously your people didn't take into account what would happen if the collectors stopped working."

"Probably not," bluntly agreed Leonida as her finger swiped across the luminescent surface. It figured. Grenelant didn't know why he was still surprised by her brutal honesty. "Okay, let me just reprogram our route and we'll be on our way to get more water."

They eventually docked on a small deserted dwarf planet amidst the nearest icy belt they could deviate towards and disembarked in heated suits, except for Leonida. Her standard outfit seemed to serve many, many purposes and Grenelant was quietly admirative of its versatility, watching in fascination as the brightly colored plates of Leonida's body shifted from red to a reflection of her surroundings. The air wasn't toxic, which he was grateful for as it didn't warrant wearing a suffocating helmet.

The pure water was concentrated deep below the first outer layer of the planet which meant they couldn't just land and take it; they'd need to get close to it and bring back full containers. Leonida showed Grenelant how to use the crafts meant for exploration and collection in a hostile environment: flying vehicles that glided close to the ground, small enough to fit through natural tunnels and big enough to bring back consequent amounts of food or water or whatever samples they'd see fit to pick up. Grenelant trailed at the back on the first half of the first day of their descent because it took him some time to get the hang of the commands that weren't made for his long, webbed hands, but eventually he managed to catch up with them and remained at their level. Their progress was stopped very soon when it became clear that even the considerably downsized vehicles wouldn't allow them to go very far; the tunnels hadn't remained wide enough. There was a short moment of deliberation and eventually Leonida told them they'd go on foot.

"What?!" Arkady's exclamation crackled through the radio. "How're we supposed to bring back the water on foot?"

"The containers have wheels, we'll drag them along."

"Cap- Leonida, sir, they'll be way too heavy once we fill them!"

"Right." There was hesitation on Leonida's end. "Sorry, Arkady. I forgot you don't have our strength."

"Wow, thanks," quietly mumbled the man. He probably hadn't intended to be audible but Grenelant heard it well enough, and he had no doubt it was the same for Leonida. She didn't react.

"Grenelant, just to be sure, I assume you're strong enough to carry yours alone. Right?"

"Yes."

"Would two containers be enough water for you until we reach the next checkpoint on our trajectory?

"Yes, but I have another proposition since we're going on foot."

"Shoot," said Leonida.

Grenelant addressed their technician. "Dragunin, would you be able to modify the water purification machine so it could recycle greater volumes of water in the same time as it currently is?"

"I'm pretty sure I can pull that off, yeah," answered the man.

"Then I'd advise you to only take one tank, Captain Trust. The water purification machine should be able to recycle enough water for me to use it once a day and I'll get by like this until we get more water through safer means. There's no need to burden ourselves with superfluous weight if we can do this the easy way."

"Oh, good!" enthusiastically said Leonida. "Should be a breeze then! It'll go fast if we're three to carry a single container. Happy, Arkady?"

"Never been happier," grumbled Arkady.

"It's settled then! All right, everyone, let's go."

Leonida moved fast. Grenelant had already noticed when they'd been walking through crowds that her strides were always long and quick and determined; however, he'd yet to see her moving on this kind of bumpy, treacherous terrain, and he was reluctantly admirative of how easy she made it seem. Where Arkady kept slipping and stumbling, where Grenelant's webbed feet had to be carefully positioned, Leonida never once hesitated. She was the one doing most of the pulling for the container. It was like she could see the path laid out before her while both Grenelant and Arkady were left to struggle in her wake, rocks crumbling beneath their steps. The opiel kept one hand warily pressed up against the wall in case he lost his footing, and the human seemed to want to prove he didn't need such support by keeping his own in his pockets. His arms ended up shooting more often than not to catch himself and in the end Arkady kept his hands out as well.

They made good progress on the first day. They rarely paused because Leonida was so intent on getting the water as soon as possible so they could get back on their regularly scheduled route. Grenelant appreciated that this woman who was to guide them to Ophena's lost colony was someone who knew exactly what she wanted and would follow through with it no matter what unexpected events occurred; determination was a primordial quality in a leader. She was overly confident and got them in more trouble than Grenelant would've desired, but one thing was for certain, and it was that Leonida Trust knew very well how to lead. He wondered if she guided large troups with that same efficient will and certainty. It was likely. Captain wasn't just a title for her, she had the aura of a commander.

As for Arkady... Grenelant glanced over at the human. He may have been from the same planet as the captain, but he had neither the stamina nor the steady demeanor of his superior. Grenelant knew Arkady was more of a human than Leonida, he'd studied them for some time after all; the records did say that humans were more fragile and less resiliant than opiels but Grenelant hadn't thought it meant they tired out so fast. Arkady was slower now. They hadn't had much opportunity to sleep the night before, as this planet was unknown territory and Leonida didn't want them to linger too long in the same spot in case there was a danger roaming around that they weren't yet aware of. These tunnels didn't seem to be an entirely natural geological structure. Leonida had listened when Grenelant had pointed this out, and so they'd kept moving.

So far there had been few pauses to eat and sleep during which Leonida had always been the one to keep watch. The night had lasted two hours at best. Grenelant didn't require any longer time asleep but he could tell that Arkady did. This was the second day they were trekking through the dark tunnels- the third since they'd left the ship- and in the harsh light of their suits which made their surroundings pale and nearly blinding, Grenelant saw the dark bags that had appeared under the man's eyes. Another thing he'd noticed was the way Arkady didn't ask for pauses. The human was obviously relieved when Leonida told them they could stop, but he never asked. Grenelant himself wasn't feeling well. The tunnels humidity, while cold, did help a bit; however he'd gone too long without taking a dip in a body of water while already dehydrated from the start. His wings were clumped together in a very uncomfortable way and his skin felt clammy. He hadn't yet reached the point of dizziness but he knew it wouldn't be far now.

Arkady tripped. The human had been tripping more often, and he hastily caught himself on the tank. "Fuck!"

"Watch your step, Arkady," rang out Leonida's tranquil voice the way it had every time.

"I know!" annoyedly spat the man, and he ragingly pushed himself up to straighten but tripped again immediately after. Grenelant was fast enough to catch him before he hit the ground.

"Are you alright?" he inquired.

Arkady pulled his arm away with a snarl. "Let go!"

The opiel let go and Arkady scrambled back to his feet with a powerful glare. Puzzled by this display of hostility, Grenelant steadily said: "I was just trying to help."

"I don't need your help," seethed the human.

Leonida had turned around to see what the fuss was about and she said: "No need to be so grumpy, Arkady, we're almost there."

"I'm grumpy because I'm goddamn tired. Fuck, aren't you?"

She shrugged and turned around. "Nope. Battery's still good."

"And I bet frogman's just fine, too," resentfully muttered Arkady.

Grenelant immediately took offense to the term. He'd seen what frogs looked like and although he couldn't deny there was a resemblance, he really didn't like being compared to those little heaps of slimy skin and protruding eyes. He coldly retorted: "Yes, and I'd certainly feel even better if you stopped your ceaseless whining."

Leonida muffled her laugh behind her hand and Arkady shot the opiel a murderous look.

"I'm not whining, I'm tired! What, I can't even say that without getting judged?"

Grenelant ignored him. Arkady opened his mouth to keep complaining but then seemed to think better of it. His shoulders slumped, he shook his head, and he resumed pushing the container.

Arkady's stumbles increased in frequency over the next hours and when he outright tripped over and fell on his rear, Grenelant decided to speak up. "Captain Trust, I think we should take a break."

She turned around, watching Arkady awkwardly pick himself up, and said: "Do you need one? We're almost there. Half a day at most."

That glare again. Grenelant didn't like how resentful Arkady's blue eyes were and he especially didn't like the disdainful way the human turned his head away from him, as if Grenelant had done him a personal offense by asking for a short rest.

"I'm good to go, sir," Arkady answered.

"Okay," she answered with a nod. "Grenelant?"

"We should stop."

"I don't need a pause," growled Arkady.

Grenelant looked down at the human and steadily said: "I do."

Arkady's features slackened a little when he realized he'd been acting quite like everything revolved around him, and then he frowned and looked away. It looked like embarrassment. Grenelant supposed it was some sort of consolation that while egocentric and prone to complaints, the human wasn't completely devoid of a sense of self-awareness.

Leonida let go of the tank. "Then you two sit down for a bit, I'll go check the perimeter. Don't fight again, your arguing gets loud and that's really the last thing we need here."

"Understood," said Grenelant, and he bent his knees to sit. Arkady waited for Leonida to disappear before going to lean against the wall and sliding down to the ground. There was a short while of silence, then Arkady let out a weary sigh and let his head tip back against the wall.

Grenelant looked around the place and he noticed something dark sticking against the wall a few feet away from the human, so he slowly pushed himself back to his feet and came closer. He was tired, but that wouldn't stop him from investigating this place. He felt Arkady's gaze on him but didn't pay attention to the human, instead kneeling down in front of the dark spot which turned out to be long strands of black hair. Curious. Grenelant reached for his bag and took out a vial, always eager to take samples back to the ship to study, and Arkady shifted to take a closer look at what he was doing.

"What's that?"

"Fur," said Grenelant. He wasn't one to hold a grudge against another person, even if said person was incredibly rude at best. "Either from the creature that made these tunnels, either from one that took residency in this place."

Arkady didn't say anything. Grenelant glanced at him and saw that he really didn't seem reassured by the news.

Grenelant put away the vial in his pack and added: "I did tell you both that these tunnels weren't the result of natural causes."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time," tensely said Arkady.

He looked wary as he crossed his arms on his knees and hunched over. Grenelant didn't exactly blame the human for being scared, he wasn't confident himself either. It had been jarring enough to meet other civilizations than those of Ophena; now they were stuck on a planet they'd thought deserted until Grenelant had observed it likely wasn't, and they had no clue what the life forms inhabiting it looked like. It could be dangerous if the creature living here turned out to be a predator. Grenelant stood up, and that was when the first wave of dizziness washed over him. He wavered and steadied himself against the wall.

"Woah," came Arkady's voice from a distance. "What's with you?"

"I'm just- Lack of water. I've told you about this too."

"You did, yeah... You should probably sit down."

"Yes." Grenelant didn't even step away from the wall, just let himself drop to the ground right there. He couldn't tell if he'd voluntarily sat down or if his legs had given up on him. The latter option was unlikely, he was an opiel after all. Legs were the strongest part of them.

"Do you not have any water left?" ventured Arkady after a beat.

"I do, but it's drinking water, and not nearly enough for what I need at the moment."

Arkady fell silent again and laid his head back against the wall. There wasn't much else to say. Grenelant closed his eyes and waited for the spell to pass, and when he opened them again he saw that Arkady had done the same. Grenelant took advantage of the fact that Arkady wasn't looking to gauge the state the human was in. Grenelant was no expert on these creatures in particular but he knew enough to observe that the fact that Arkady had paled, coupled with the fine tremors in his hands as they rested against his knees, meant that he was just as exhausted as Grenelant felt. Arkady may have denied needing this halt but it was obvious this was beneficial for the both of them. Grenelant wondered if a human different from Arkady and Leonida would have been able to keep up in the same conditions. After all, Arkady was the unique soldier who'd been chosen to accompany an army captain on a mission through space; that had to mean his abilities were above average and that he was far from weak in human standards.

Leonida returned a few seconds later and the sound of her voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "All right, guys, I didn't see or hear anything weird. How are you holding up, Grenelant?"

He looked up at her and admitted: "This isn't the best I've ever felt in my life. I may be reaching a limit soon."

Leonida stopped in front of him. "And what does that entail?"

"It starts with dizziness. That phase lasts a while, and eventually issues with thermoregulation come into play, as well as loss of strength."

"Life-threatening?"

"It can be, yes. But it takes time to reach that point and I've only just started getting dizzy. There's no need to worry. At worst, I'll survive until the next stop the way I have up until now."

Leonida stared at him, her lips pressed together in a thin line. "Your health wouldn't be good."

"No," acknowledged Grenelant. "It would be much better if we could bring water back to the ship."

"Have you had this happen to you before?"

"Once or twice, yes. But never beyond the dizzy phase."

"So then we'd better hurry before you get worse."

Grenelant glanced in Arkady's direction. His head was now fully resting against his arms and his breathing had a calmer rythm. Leonida turned to follow his gaze and they both stared at the human.

"We might want to give him a chance to sleep," said Grenelant. "Doesn't your species require at least seven per day to function optimally? He hasn't even had half of that in two."

Leonida nodded with a musing air. "I tend to forget what it's like to be human. He complains a lot so I thought as long as he was vocal, he was probably fine, but I might've been pushing him a little too hard."

Grenelant looked up at her. "I've been meaning to ask, if it's not indelicate..."

"Shoot," she cordially said as she sat down next to him.

"You come from Earth and you look similar to Dragunin, but what are you exactly?"

"I was human once, if that's what you were wondering, just like this guy. Now I'm more of a machine than what I used to be." She flashed him a smile. "It comes in handy."

Grenelant nodded. Though he was tired and rest was preferable, fascination pushed him to continue the conversation. "Is this common where you come from?"

"No." Her smile turned pensive. "Definitely not. A lot of people told me I was crazy for wanting this."

"Why?"

"Modifying the body you've had for all your life is kind of... an extreme decision. And my transformation was a first. They hadn't had successful attempts before me so people thought it would fail and that I'd die or become irreversibly crippled, stuff like that."

"...I can't imagine what it must have felt like to go through such a thing."

Grenelant's species had a single morphological change during their lifetime and it was in their early stages of life, just like babies and adults in humans. Once the second form was aquired, it was for a lifetime, and to change one's own appearance was practically unheard of on Ophena. Grenelant had in fact been very surprised to learn that humans often chose to change their sex, and in doing so, shift the nature of the secondary sexual characteristics aquired during their puberty. Nothing so extreme had ever been done on his home planet.

"I chose this. I don't regret it," stated Leonida. Then she smiled at him again. "You might want to take this time to rest too, Grenelant. You do look pretty pooped."

"Pooped?" Grenelant frowned, hoping this wasn't an insult the captain had come up with out of the blue. No matter the planet, insults often came down to talk about excrements.

She laughed. "It means tired, don't get your panties in a twist." A second to realize, and she added: "That one means 'don't get worked up over it'."

"I see, thank you for explaining. I think I'll do as you said."

"Good." She got back up in one fluid motion, and as usual said: "I'll keep watch."

Vibrations were what startled Grenelant back to consciousness : vibrations travelling from the packed earth at his back to the core of his body, his lung and his eardrums. He saw movement on his right. It was Leonida rushing up to them, her features pulled tight, and when she saw that he was already awake she ran to Arkady to shake her second-in-command awake.

"Get up! Get up, we have to go!"

Arkady blinked awake with a groan and he squinted at her in confusion. "Wha-?"

She grabbed him by the collar and hefted him up as if he weighed nothing at all. "No time to explain, gotta run!"

He was about to answer when a horrid screech suddenly echoed through the tunnels. Arkady's eyes widened with fear and Grenelant picked himself off the ground as hastily as the human stumbled after their leader. A rumbling sound travelled through the air around them and dirt started pattering to the ground. They stilled when the earth over their heads started cracking and crumbling.

"Get back!" yelled Leonida.

She pulled Arkady back in the direction they'd just come from so brutally that the human was thrown to the ground in an undignified pile of limbs, and Grenelant reflexively leapt back just as part of the tunnel collapsed in the spot they'd occupied just a second ago.

"Shit!" swore Leonida as she picked her second off the floor. "Run!"

"What about that thing we heard-" started Arkady, but she cut him off with a roar.

"Run!"

They ran. They ran back towards the spot they'd been resting in but didn't have the time to reach it before the screech resounded again, this time unmistakably close.

"It's above us!" yelled Grenelant.

Leonida looked up sharply and then grabbed the both of them to shove them up against the wall.

Arkady yelled, "What-"

Thunder exploded when the ceiling caved in, silt and rubble tumbling everywhere around them, and horror truly dawned on Grenelant when he saw the shadow of something huge slithering down from the dark network of tunnels showing in the split layers of earth. Grenelant didn't see it for long because then Leonida was grabbing him by the collar and forcing him to duck down with Arkady. There were several impacts above him and it took Grenelant a moment to realize that it was the sound of rock hitting metal- of rock hitting Leonida. Just as he understood that she was shielding them with her body, a final slab toppled down on the group of three and their captain took the brunt of it. He had the time to see the tight expression on her face before her light shorted out. Then there was silence, save for the light sounds of dirt sifting and pebbles bouncing on the ground. Arkady and Grenelant were unharmed, still caught in the protective brace of Leonida's arms.

"Oh, fuck," Arkady was the first to say. "Shit, what was that?"

"Captain, are you all right?" Grenelant quickly asked when Leonida didn't move.

"Just- Give me a moment. Give me a minute." She sounded fine, but the fact that she was staying so still was worrying.

"What's wrong?"

"Just recalibrating some stuff, routine, don't worry about it. Took a nasty blow."

"You took a few of them," Grenelant said. He couldn't believe she was still standing, much less that she was able to talk, yet there she was. Just what kind of human was she?

Arkady shifted next to him and his light moved with him, brushing over Leonida's front, and then he asked: "Are you hurt or are you just stuck?"

She let out a little laugh. "I might be just stuck. I'd advise you two not to move until I can."

"How long will that be?"

"About ten minutes, I think."

Arkady audibly swallowed. "Can't we try to dig out?"

"And that, Arkady, would be the best way to get all the dirt to collapse on you," teasingly answered their captain.

Gren could make out the change in pace of the man's breathing and he carefully turned to look at him. "Are you all right, Dragunin?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm uh, I'm fine," hastily said Arkady. He swallowed again and ran a hand through his short hair. "Just not a fan of small spaces, you know."

Grenelant didn't know, but he chose not to say that. Arkady seemed to be very uneasy and the opiel didn't want to risk saying anything upsetting in this situation.

"Just a few minutes," said Leonida. "Keep it together."

Arkady clenched his fist and lowered his arm back in his lap, nodding. "Yessir."

"How are you both doing after all that running around?"

"The adrenaline sure woke me up," said Arkady.

"I hope we find the water soon," answered Grenelant. "It'll be safer for us once I've recovered."

"Do you have to stay in there for an hour or something for it to work?" inquired Leonida.

"I see you've taken great pains to learn about my species," annoyedly said Grenelant.

She smiled, embarrassed, and admitted: "I'm not really the studious kind."

"Between thirty minutes and forty-five," said Arkady. The other two looked at him in surprise and he defensively said: "What? I got briefed on this operation too. I have good memory."

"That's correct," said Grenelant, and he looked up the Leonida. "Will you be able to remember that, Captain?"

"My, my, are you giving me sass, Grenelant?" she said with a wide grin. "Here I thought you were doomed to eternal formality. Oh, and sass means you're being mouthy."

"I would never," gravely said Grenelant.

Next to him, Arkady shifted and grumbled: "Shit, that was one nasty earthquake."

"I'm almost done recalibrating, we should be able to check out the aftermath soon."

"I think I saw what caused it," quietly said Grenelant. Leonida's brown gaze grew sharper and Arkady's head snapped in his direction.

"You saw something?!"

"Just a shadow. There's definitely something living down here."

"Great," muttered Arkady.

"We'll have to be careful," said Leonida. Something clicked, and then she let out a sigh. "All right, finally."

Her arms slowly moved and she pushed herself away from the wall a small fraction, and dirt fell on Grenelant's face. He wiped it away from his eyes and mouth and watched as she flexed her fingers, then shifted her left arm to hold it over their heads so that it would still hold up most of the packed dirt above them while her right arm reached behind her. She felt around each side of her shoulders and then said: "Okay."

The frame of her body tensed and she started pushing outwards. It took Grenelant a moment to realize that she was moving the huge slab of rock out of the way even thought it was easily twice her size and likely incredibly heavy. He didn't think he'd ever cease being surprised by her strength. More dirt sifted through and pattered on the ground beneath Arkady and Grenelant.

"What do we do?" asked Arkady.

"Don't move yet." Her voice didn't even sound that strained. "Actually, Arkady, I want you to take position beneath me, don't want you getting squashed if there's another rock behind it. Grenelant, get ready to help me if we have to catch something heavy."

"Yes, Captain." He straightened a bit and yet another clump of dirt hit the middle of his face, which he annoyedly brushed away.

"Okay," she grunted again, and she braced against the slab until it finally started sliding a bit faster. Soil was sloughing off and Leonida warned them both: "Hold your breath, just in case."

Once she was sure they'd complied, Leonida gave the slab a final shove to the side, burying it in one of the walls of dirt that encased them. Fortunately, the slab had been the last big thing to fall so nothing came tumbling down on top of their heads but the brittle dirt and pebbles that poured in their space. Leonida reacted fast and grabbed Arkady by the collar.

"Sorry about this, try not to bump your head or anything."

"What, wh-"

Leonida was already throwing Arkady outside like a sack of supplies. Grenelant felt the hefty thump of the man's body hitting the surface and a loud: "Ow, what the fuck Leonida?!"

"Quit whining!" she yelled back, and before Grenelant had the time to react she was hefting him up as well.

"Wait, I can jump!" he hastily told her before she could eject him like she had the human.

She opened her mouth to answer but Grenelant decided to show her before they lost more time in this space that was quickly filling up, and he wrapped his long arm around her waist before bunching up his muscles and jumping in one powerful thrust. The soil that had reached up to his knees grabbed at his legs, but the opiel had anticipated it and jumped with enough force that getting out of the hole was no problem at all. He landed smoothly on the surface and let go of the captain, who looked positively elated.

"That was awesome!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"You couldn't have told us you could do that before she threw my ass outside?" bitterly asked Arkady, who seemed to be nursing a sore butt.

"Maybe he couldn't carry two people at once, Arkady, have you though of that?"

"Actually, I can," Grenelant corrected Leonida. "You didn't leave me time to tell you. If I'd known your plan was to throw Arkady out than I would've suggested carrying you both out of here from the start."

"Whatever, the important thing is that we're all out of that death trap safe and sound," stated Leonida with sparkling brown eyes. "You think you could do that again, but like, for fun?"

"For fun?" echoed Grenelant.

"Right, you probably don't know what that means," she mischieviously answered. "That's fine, we'll talk about this again when we get out of here. Hey, Arkady, you figure you could check the damage on my back? I'm pretty sturdy but I want to make sure it's nothing too bad."

"Yessir." Leonida turned around to show him her back and Arkady quickly scrambled to his feet so he could come closer to examine her. After a few seconds of smoothing his hand over the plates of her suit and checking her neck and shoulders, he declared: "Looks like you're pretty okay, Captain. I mean Leonida. I don't know what the hell it takes to get through your exoskeleton but it's definitely not a whole goddamn tunnel collapsing on top of you."

Grenelant went to lean against the wall of the tunnel, feeling dizzy again.

"My head?"

Arkady moved up and eventually said: "Yeah, you definitely took a nasty blow there. Not too bad, though. It cracked but I can repair that no problem, I can do that right now if you want."

Leonida spun around on herself. "No, let's get the tank and find that water for Grenelant first. I want him to get back in good health ASAP."

"Cap- Leonida, it'll only take a few minutes," insisted Arkady.

"And whatever that thing was can find us in less. Look at him," said Leonida, gesturing to Grenelant who was trying his best to stay standing upright. "I'm pretty sure we'd be better off not going a round two while he's like that.You'll repair me while Grenelant takes a break, and after that we'll book it."

Arkady turned to Grenelant. "Can you even walk?"

"Just give me a moment, please. It'll pass."

Leonida didn't give him a moment, promptly grabbing him as she walked by and tugging on his arm so that she was supporting him despite her shorter stature. "Let's move, Arkady."

"Yessir," he answered, and they headed back towards the rest area from earlier to fetch the abandoned tank.

[bjdinfo]

BJD Clothing Makers, All Sizes

Some of my personal favorites. Please let me know if you have recommendations or are looking for a specific fit/style. (Work in progress!)

Alice’s Collections (dealer): SD and MSD size outfits and separates from Chinese clothing makers; custom size can be requested for select brands.

AyuAna (Etsy): expertly crafted one-of-a-kind vintage-style outfits, predominately dresses for SD10/13 girls

BBandDollhouse (Etsy): delightful outfit sets for mostly MSD and SD sizes

Cheery Doll (Etsy): luxurious historical outfits, dresses, and ballgowns for a wide selection of girl sizes including MSD/MDD, Dollfie Dream, SD13/Gr/16, and Iplehouse SID/EID

ClericBATM (Etsy): cute printed fabric and solid color dresses for SD10 and SD13 girls that bring to mind the countryside or a tea party outing~

Clover Singing (dealer): an assortment of outfits for boys and girls from shops on Taobao

Clover Singing old site (dealer): more outfits from Taobao, with old classics like HZ/Heisejinyao Ziyulinglong; may need to check availability since the website was updated as above

Code Noir (Etsy): cute and fanciful outfit sets and footwear for many sizes; a design studio by Dollheart which also collaborated with BJD companies

Crobidoll: finely made clothing in different styles for their brand lines

DK Craftshop (Etsy): sets and separates for 75cm, 1/3 and 1/4 dolls, centered around urban trends and the cutting edge of fashion

Dollheart: a mix of fantasy and everyday clothing sets and shoes in sizes across the board

Dolline: contemporary clothing for SD13/17 and Idealian75 boy, Dollfie Dream and SD girls

Dollmore: clothes, shoes and accessories in standard sizes as well as for their brand’s models, the measurements of which can be found here

Dollsnshop (Etsy): chic, casual outfits and items for 1/3, 1/4, and 1/6 dolls

Dreaming Doll: dresses and outfit sets for their girl dolls, which come in 58cm, 42cm, 31cm, and 26.5cm sizes

Eva Workshop (Etsy): lovingly handmade dresses with an aristocratic flair, for mostly Iplehouse girl sizes (FID, SID/EID)

Fairy Tale/FTDolls (Etsy): exquisite shoes, outfits, furniture and accessories, primarily SD size

Freedom Teller: impeccable tailored suits, tops, bottoms and coats, high quality leather shoes, with historical sets in limited release (I swear someone on Tumblr called them the Louis Vuitton of the doll clothing world...)

Gloomy Classic: debonair handmade outfits which recall the age of nobility; limited pre-orders for a variety of SD male and female sizes

GuluUP (Etsy): varying sizes and styles of clothing/shoes, mostly modern and many for SD male sizes

Iplehouse: clothes and shoes designed for their doll lines; there used to be a much wider selection, seems the company pared back on what outfits they offer

KatushkaStyle (Etsy): elegant outfits and dress sets for different girl sizes like Iplehouse, Souldoll Zenith, Dollshe, etc.

Klesis: beautiful vintage-style dresses sold in limited quantities, sized for SD and MSD

Legend Doll (dealer): tons of stuff in different styles, mostly from Chinese doll companies or Taobao shops

Luts: original design clothing and shoes, also featuring collaboration with independent shops, suitable for Obitsu11 and specific Delf lines--Tiny (TDF) [1/12 Lati Yellow 16-19cm], Zuzu (ZDF) [19cm], Honey (HDF) [1/6 Yo-SD size 26cm], Kid/Model (DF/MDF) [1/4 MSD and Fashion size 42-45cm], Baby [41cm], Delf (DF) [SD10 size 57-60cm], Senior (SDF) [SD13/Gr size 60cm], Senior65 (SDF65) [SD17 65cm size], Super Senior (SSDF) [70cm strong size], and Grand Senior (GSDF) [Idealian75 75cm size]

Nalisinko Workshop (Etsy): graceful, elaborate dress sets, mostly for SD girls

Nine9Style: modern fashion, single pieces and sets for many popular sizes

Odd-B: adorable, often frilly clothing and separates, mainly for SD13/SD17 boys and MSD, sold in limited pre-orders (for customers outside of Korea, please check their Twitter for openings and follow instructions on overseas purchase!)

Odd Numbers/Aristocracy (Taobao): fantastical suits and fullsets, many with a retro or steampunk aesthetic; tailored sizes available

Petit Soirée: lavish dress sets and single pieces introduced in highly limited quantities, for Yo-SD, Holiday and SD sizes; see Instagram for updates--collaboration between Kana, Rollingpumpkin, and Uyuchagongbang of Rosen Lied fame

rRabit: fashionable single pieces, shoes and accessories for 1/6, 1/4, and multiple 1/3 sizes, men and women (SD10/13/16 girl, SD13/17 and 70cm boy)

Sadol: sophisticated outfit styles for popular 40cm, 60cm, 65cm and 70cm+ doll sizes, including SSDF and Idealian75

SartoriaJ (Etsy): Victorian, period, and contemporary outfits and shoes in MSD/fashion size and larger SDs, such as Iplehouse EID/SID men and women, Dollshe 28M and 26F, etc.

Tata’s Paradise: loads of different clothing pieces, shoes and accessories for many different sizes; their props are super cute!

Tree Design: trendy outfits and separates for a vast array of sizes

YueBaiHandmade (Etsy): opulent ballgowns and historical fashion for SD girls

Z-agram (Etsy): quality items and accessories designed with modern sensibility in mind

[guardianreadersofthegalaxy]

Dom’s mini Who reviews - the rad episodes

Blink – Overrated? Yes. But I can’t deny how much this scared the crap out of 14 year old me. Moffat holds off on characterisation to focus on what he does best: stacking enough interesting sci-fi concepts on top of one another to fill 45 minutes of television.

Daleks In Manhattan/ Evolution Of The Daleks – Hugely underrated! Human Dalek Sec may have dicks on his head but I didn’t notice that at first. Huge credit goes to director James Strong, who does some really inventive camera work. The costume and set department too.

The Eleventh Hour – Matt Smith comes straight out of the gate with his quirky, unpredictable take on the Doctor. Moffat establishes the fairy tale tone of the series before pivoting into a more familiar, Davies-style invasion plot. My only complaint would be that the first 15 minutes feel like a prologue.

Flatline – The TARDIS shrinking is both a great opportunity for physical comedy and a way to save money by keeping Capaldi on one set. Pair that with a body horror, Lovecraftian alien design and Clara taking centre stage and you’ve got a really great, tense monster story.

The Girl In The Fireplace – This gets unfairly forgotten among Moffat’s early episodes. The clockwork droids are hella creepy and the juxtaposition of the space ship and Versailles is a great use of the show’s premise. The ‘love’ between the Doctor and Reinette does comes out of nowhere but Tennant and Myles do their best to sell it.

The God Complex – The hotel setting gives this a Shining-esque, claustrophobic atmosphere. The minotaur looks great and is wisely semi-obscured for most of the episode. The supporting cast are excellent, particularly Amara Karan. Best of all, there are real consequences for the Doctor’s relationship with Amy & Rory

The Impossible Planet/ The Satan Pit – NuWho’s first base under siege story and still one of the best. Like many Davies era two partners, all the good stuff’s in part 2. TIP focusses on setting the scene, getting you to care about the characters and building mystery. TSP is all payoff and boy is it good.

Mummy On The Orient Express – The Doctor goes a bit too Sherlock here for my liking, but his scenes with Clara are lovely, particularly the last one. The scenes with the Mummy are all brilliantly tense. I think they could have left it ambiguous as to whether the Doctor really saved everyone, but that’s a small gripe.

Oxygen – Another great base under siege with a horrific dystopian concept. Top notch satire and an anti-capitalist message. I’d say more but I need to save my breath.

Rise Of The Cybermen/ The Age Of Steel – Like Series 2’s other great two-parter, all the good stuff is in the second half. Still RotC does a good job establishing the world and teasing the Cybermen so it’s all the more satisfying when they show up. TAoS is a rip-roaring action story and Mickey’s departure actually beats those of many other companions.

Tooth & Claw – This doesn’t get nearly enough praise. It’s running down a corridor from a monster perfected. The shaky cam and spooky cinematography make for a great tone and Victoria’s stoicism contrasts brilliantly with The Doctor & Rose’s blasé attitude. Oh and the music rules.

Under The Lake/ Before The Flood – The production design and watery cinematography are all spot on. BTF does a nice riff on Prisoner of Azkaban. It’s an interesting change how the supporting characters have a chance to leave and actually decide to participate. The only drawback is it’s another Doctor-death fake out.

Utopia – What’s better than a man in a long coat sprinting down a corridor? Two men in long coats sprinting down a corridor! This deftly juggles so much, Jack’s reintroduction, a standalone story about humans at the end of time, the return of the Master and one of the best cliffhangers ever.

World Enough & Time/ The Doctor Falls – After five attempts, Moffat finally wrote a great finale. A trademark timey-wimey concept, body horror, the culmination of Missy’s arc and 12’s heroic last stand. My only issues are 12’s speech to the Masters (I don’t like speeches) and that TDF suffers from an over-extended runtime. But the gorgeous music makes up for that.

[angieschiffahoi]

Reasons why Terminator Dark Fate is a worthy sequel of T2

It wrapped up a stale story and respected its predecessor’s finale

Skynet is dead, long live Skynet. Yes, there is no fate and Sarah was able to kill Skynet, but Skynet wasn’t a product of only its time nor an incident made by rogues: Skynet was a warning of what would become of people if they were too arrogant. It’s a tale of hybris. Men get too self-reliant and create something that will bring about their downfall: they become God, but by becoming God they commit a sin so big, they will need Jesus Christ (John Connor or James Cameron, if you will) to save themselves. I mean, if you don’t see the correlation between the Virgin Mary and Sarah Connor (Sarah is also the wife of Abraham, the quintessential mother in the Bible), y’all are blind (she gets inseminated by an “angel” sent to protect her, by her own son, ergo God). Terminator Dark Fate didn’t become woke, it did what T2 started to do, it de-christianized its message for a wider audience (Hollywood doesn’t pander to white christian americans anymore in 2019, go figure). In both movies, Sarah isn’t the Virgin Mary anymore, she’s the mentor, she takes action and she changes her own future and that of billions of people: she becomes the saviour. In the sequel to TDF she obviously was supposed to be the mentor to the new saviour. By killing John, it gave the story back to Sarah and a new hope for the future, taking out some of those harmful tropes where women are only good to “birth” the father of the resistance and not be them. John Connor was never a character you were going to be satisfied with, because he’s an ideal. You liked the teen version, because he was a rebel-ish punk who did everything he wanted, had a motorcycle and a pet robot. You were never going to like the gritty future version of a man destroyed by everything and also he was never supposed to become that. All of Sarah’s struggles the moment she found out she was pregnant were to protect her son from that future. Hadn’t they killed him off in 1999, he would’ve just been a 45 year old drunk - that’s where his character was going after defeating Skynet. 

It isn’t contraddictory to have another AI replace Skynet. 

Skynet and Legion are a cautionary tale, they are false gods, Frankenstein’s creature and the devil. It’s not repetitive, it’s not something that can be prevented in full, because humanity IS on that path. Humanity wants to play God and Sarah and John’s effort to stop Skynet was silent, it was secret (despite Sarah’s efforts to have people believe her, nobody did). Do you really think it would be so difficult to imagine another company, working on a similar project, at the same time in the late 90s - early 2000s? The only weak point is the implication that Legion would occupy terminators and the same tactics as Skynet, but I’m guessing if Sarah has been killing Terminators in the past for 30 years, Legion could’ve “read” something about it and developed itself to fit the past or got inspired, I don’t know. It’s not that far-fetched to have another AI use the same tactics. 

It introduced a new scary terminator, who is perfect for 2020

The Rev-9, like its predecessors, is an inflitration model (and that’s the only reason they cast a latin actor) who is built to hunt the same way the first two were, but it does it better: because 2020 is a scary time. The T-800 had to look on a phone book and kill three Sarah Connor before getting to the right one. This one? It needs a working internet connection. 

Also, to all of you saying that politics should stay out of movies, 

- the T-800 was an intimidating male hunting a defenseless woman

- the T-1000 was a cop hunting a supposed “crazy woman and criminal” 

- the Rev-9 is an immigration officer hunting a defenseless immigrant. 

not that hard to spot the similarities. 

It answered the question “what happens to terminators when they fulfill their purpose?” 

Arnie is old and that’s what made it so much more believable for me. 

People keep using this quote from The Terminator to say how terrible writing and what a huge plot hole it was to make the T-800 a dad:  “That Terminator is out there. It can't be reasoned with, it can't be bargained with...it doesn't feel pity of remorse or fear...and it absolutely will not stop.Ever. Until you are dead.”

Here’s a few reasons why their reasoning is biased:

First, off screen reason: this is the first movie, Cameron had no idea what would become of its own sequels. He hadn’t predicted Arnold would have such a following and I’m sure a re-programmed Terminator wasn’t in its plans. The first movie was about the horror of the terminator, we weren’t supposed to feel anything for it but fear, because its purpose was to scare us and nothing else. 

Second, in-character reason: Kyle Reese is a soldier in the future. He has only seen these machines kill and maim and knows that, just because this one has skin and hair and muscle on its endo-skeleton, it isn’t less machine than the ones he has been fighting all of his life. He only knows this one’s worse: because he has a single purpose. 

Third, non canon reason: Cameron from TSCC. Nobody was offended when she started to develop feelings for John in that series, why is everyone so offended by Carl now? Yeah. But it’s not canon, so let’s go to the last reason. 

Fourth, canon, on-screen, in-character reason: THE WHOLE EFFING MOVIE YOU LOVE SO MUCH. Terminator 2 is all about the differences between the T-1000 and the T-800. Yes, it was re-programmed, but it wasn’t programmed to get attached to John, to learn from him, to almost act as a surrogate father, to give him a sign of their relationship as he was lowered to his death. It has been established machines can feel. Even the Rev-9, who’s still fully on mission, has a personality, the same way Patrick’s was. They exist, therfore they are. They have their own thoughts, their own doubts and that means they can develop a conscience and get attached. Carl says he doesn’t love his family the way a human would and it shows, the same way the T-800 from T2 didn’t love John like a Kyle Reese would have. 

It gave us a new found family dynamic and used old tropes to tell new stories

Dani, Grace and Sarah have an amazing dynamic. Adding Carl to the mix was a bonus, because it created tension, but at the same time it gave us back that soft T-800 everyone of us fell in love with at 10-13 years old.

It did what TFA tried to do but better, imho. Star Wars fans were starved and when Disney made that movie, it still was considered a good producer of excellent content (now, not so much). TDF was produced by a variety of studios, because nobody wanted to take full responsibility after the disaster that was Genysis (and who could blame them?). Nobody praised TFA for its attempt to start a new saga, re-using ANH’s storyline with new characters and then build from there a new story, but it’s because they didn’t do it right. TFA doesn’t give you time to care about the characters, it’s a messy introduction of what could’ve been a very good trilogy if only they tried harder. 

TDF, in my opinion, did try harder. It gave us a simple hunter-hunted storyline, where all of the cast is in the same place at the same time. This way, you can care about the development of their relationships. You care about Grace and Dani, not because the movie told you to, but because you can see Grace’s affection and ammiration from the very first scenes and, by the end, you see the affection Dani has for this stranger who’s sole purpose it taking care of her, when she’s so used to be the one to take care of others (see the first few scenes with her brother and father). You care about Dani and Sarah, because the whole movie builds up to the mentor storyline without telling you. You care about Carl and Sarah, because of all the build up from past movies, but also because of the little things (”I’m never f* calling you Carl” to calling him just that a few scenes later or Sarah calling out the Rev-9 by telling it, “we’re not machines”). Everything it did, it did without telling us what to feel and that’s rare in a world where franchises are constantly telling you who you should like and why, instead of writing a good story and letting you figure it out by yourself. 

-----

It is not by far a perfect movie. Having 3 producing companies and six writers didn’t help, the same way it didn’t help that Tim Miller was basically ghost-directing for the ever-too-busy James Cameron. 

It could have been better in many ways: firstly, by using smaller scenes and a smaller budget and maybe a little less CGI and a little more practical effects. It was too ambitous and fans hadn’t yet forgiven this franchise for Genysis, because fans are butthurt babies who only want things to be they way they want them (I hated Genysis, don’t get me wrong, but I decided if this movie was going to be worth it once they said it wouldn’t be a sequel and watched a couple of trailers, it isn’t that hard). Another reason it bombed, beside the active boycotting, was the close to absent promotion except for a couple of lines. 

Anyway, this messy post is just to explain the reasoning why I believe it is a worthy sequel and, in my opinion, without the nostalgia goggles on and taking out of the equation the “originality” factor, I dare say it’s perfectly on par with The Terminator. 

[writinginstardust]

Falling Like Stars | Chapter 2

Pairing: Tyler Jones x reader

Warnings: injury and violence

A/N: forgot to mention last time but these are alternating POV chapters and I actually wrote this one first before coming up with the idea that is now part one. fyi worried Tyler is best Tyler so you’re welcome

Word Count: 1212

*

This was not what I signed up for, not by a long shot. If De Stoy could pull me away from my job on the Aurora station - yet again - and send me off on some random mission with my long-time crush and his squad, she could damn well have told me what I was getting into. I grumbled under my breath as I sat up, my head throbbing from the blow one of the TDF troops had landed there.

"You okay?" I blinked and tilted my head up to meet Tyler's concerned eyes.

"Uh, yes? I think." It was mostly true, at least I thought it was but Tyler didn't seem convinced and his worried frown only deepened. An alarm started blaring before he could say anything else though.

"That's for us," Cat warned. Tyler cursed under his breath and helped me to my feet before sliding seamlessly back into leadership mode.

"Okay, listen up. I've got a plan."

That plan, as it turned out, involved me getting handcuffed and stumbling along between a similarly attired Fin and Kal while the others pretended to be TDF troops. Surprisingly, it worked. Then again I’d learned a long time ago not to underestimate the Jones twins.

As the squad, minus Tyler and Kal, stepped out of the turbolift into the docking bay I knew it was about to get worse. Around a dozen TDF troops were surrounding the Longbow and we had to get past them. Quietly. Tyler's order echoed in my head as I imagined it was in everyone else's. Looked like we'd have to disobey.

"Alright. Zila, you and me are going to get their attention. ...Don't shoot them unless they try and shoot you." Scarlett looked hard at Zila. "We're keeping this as quiet as we can. Cat, when you've got an opening, get to the ship." 

"What do you want us to do?" Fin asked.

"Stay put for now, (Y/N) isn't looking quite with it right now and I need you to keep an eye on her."

"No complaints here." Fin certainly did look pleased to have a relatively safe job and so was I, my head still didn’t feel right and I wasn’t sure I could trust myself if I did have to fight. I soon found out I was right.

“(Y/N), you okay?” Fin doubled back from the ship and ran to my side, helping me to my feet and practically dragging me the last of the distance across the docking bay.

“Go! Go!” I heard Tyler yelling and crawled a foot or so down the docking ramp. Kal was sprinting across the bay with Auri unconscious in his arms, Tyler firing on the TDF troops like it was what he was born to do. My eyes were glued to him, refusing to look away until he was safe on the Longbow. Through a haze of pain I registered Scarlett bounding up the ramp and stopping beside me. Still I focused only on Tyler as Cat started firing the ship's weapons, willing him to get to the ship in one piece. 

He leapt onto the ramp and yelled at Cat to take off. Breathing out a sigh of relief that he was safe, I finally allowed myself to relax, blacking out just as Tyler dropped to his knees beside me. 

*

I woke up in the med bay a couple of hours later. Blinking away the pain of the sudden brightness, I looked around to find Tyler sitting beside me, a frown etched on his forehead. I expected to see Zila nearby but she was nowhere to be found. Presumably I hadn't been hurt too bad then.

"Hey, Ty." He startled and looked over to me.

"You're awake."

"Yep. Don't be so surprised, it takes more than a little knock to the head to keep me down." I grinned, expecting him to smile back, but his face remained grave.

"It was more than 'a little knock to the head', (Y/N). You scared the life out of me." He looked like he was going to cry.

"Hey," I squeezed his hand, "calm down. I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me."

"You realise you got shot, right? You know that's why you passed out on the docking ramp? Because of the blood loss." He sighed and ran a hand through his already very dishevelled hair. "You could have died."

I swallowed a lump in my throat, suddenly feeling very guilty about all the stress and worry I'd clearly caused him. Unsure of what to say, I averted my eyes. Hopefully he'd fill the silence.

"Just...please, be more careful. ...Please."

I looked back to him and nodded. "Okay."

"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do if we lost you." The air felt suddenly thick with emotion. A tension building between us caused, I assumed, by the depth of my unspoken feelings for him. I tried not to fool myself into thinking his own feelings for me might be contributing. I couldn't deal with emotions right now. Time to lighten the mood.

"Probably crash and burn." I grinned sleepily, my body starting to protest being awake again.

"I'm serious. You're so important to me- uh, to the team. We can't lose you, okay?"

"Okay." A large yawn split my face and I decided that was probably my cue to go back to sleep. "I'm gonna have a nap now so you can go if you want." And maybe I secretly wanted him to stay but there's no way I was going to let him know that.

"I've got nowhere to be for a while." He remained in his seat and I curled up on my side facing him, trying my best to hold back a smile.

The unexpected feeling of a hand in mine drew my gaze and i watched as Tyler tentatively entwined our fingers on the bed. I flicked my eyes back to his face. He was smiling softly. My heart stuttered in my chest at that look and I quickly shut my eyes, burrowing deeper into the sheets to hide my body's instinctive betrayal.

"If you're going to stay," I mumbled against the pillow, "You can at least tell me a bedtime story."

"Of course." He only got a few minutes into his tale before he stopped, noticing the way my breathing had evened out and assuming I was asleep. I wasn't. Not quite. A fond sigh left his lips and he withdrew his hand from mine. I missed the contact immediately. 

"Sleep well, (Y/N)." He whispered it into the stillness and leaned over to press his lips to my cheek. He lingered.

It took all my willpower not to react. To stay as still as if I really was sleeping even if every cell in my body was crying out in joy and confusion. What was that!? My brain helpfully contributed to the internal screaming. Did that mean what I thought it meant? Or was I just so far gone for him that I was imagining attraction where it simply didn't exist?

He left the room and I waited another minute to be sure before rolling over and screaming into my pillow. How was I meant to work with him now?

*

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness @writingbychelle @ad-astraaaa

Aurora Cycle: @aurising

[mylikesareamess]

Noooo oneesssssss!!!!!!!! Kind of reminds me of "a little less conversation a little more action." Go watch the trailer asap!

[flameintheblacknight]

WHAT YOUR FAVORITE NEOPETS PLOT SAYS ABOUT YOU:

(note: this only includes the ones with comics/had an actual impact on the site.  sorry, supernatural-inspired plot and war of the obelisk.)

The Meridell/Darigan War Plots:

--You joined in 1999/2000... or have a UC obsession.  Or both.

--Jeran was probably your furry awakening.  Or Kass.

--You hated the Viacom years with a burning passion.

--You’re lowkey invested in Meridell and Darigan to this day, even though neither have received an update in years.

The Ice Caves Plot:

--You played every Hannah and the [blank] caves game as they came out, or played them after reading the plot.  Point is, you actually played them.

--Kannah is your OTP.  The Obelisk War gave you life, and you instantly joined the Thieves’ Guild.

--You have like, 3 Bori on your main.

--you hate the Jumpstart years.  Not with a burning passion, you just mourn the Habitarium and Keyquest.

The Curse Of Maraqua Plot:

--You’ve watched all the Pirates of the Caribbean movies.

--If not, you were a mermaid kid.

--You want the ability to see the future.

--You are willing to overlook the fact that Garin is probably the dumbest pirate to ever pirate.

The Lost Desert Plot:

--You’re a fan of Disney animated classics.

--You ship Jazan and Nabile.  Or you ship Nabile and Tomos and hate the semi-forced canon romance with a passion.

--You probably know every freaking thief on the site by heart.  Every.  Last.  One.

--You can solve puzzles that enrage your friends.

The Altador Mini-Plot:

--You either played TDF when it came out or didn’t know it existed until recently.

--Jellyneo is either your best friend or you solved this plot as it was coming out.

--You’re legitimately interested in Neopets Lore.

--You will fucking murder that Vaeolus. ...Actually, this goes for almost everyone who’s done the plot.  

The Cyodrake’s Gaze Plot:

--Shenkuu is your favorite land.

--You love mystery plots.

--You were there when this plot was actually running.

--You can actually play Kou-Jong unlike the rest of us.

The Tale of Woe plot:

--You would murder for all the characters in this plot.  Every last one of them.

--You really, really like Neovia as a concept and loved the fact that it has a daily now.

--This is probably your only preferred plot.

--Sophie was your furry awakening.

Journey to the Lost Isle/Atlas of the Ancients:

--You have never gotten mad at the site once.

--You really like Moltara.

--You love Lutaris and have actually bothered to try to get one.

--You keep quiet about these being your favorites.

The Return of Dr. Sloth Plot:

--Sci-Fi gives you life.

--You probably either hate Dr. Sloth or act like you work for him.

--You really, really hate Jumpstart.

--Neopets was your creative awakening.

The Faeries’ Ruin Plot:

--You love everything about this plot.

--You either agree with Xandra or hate her.

--You ship Brynnso.

--You fucking love the editorials of the Neopian Times that have Jazan and Hanso in them.

The Wraith Resurgence Plot:

--...who?

[lost-tanuki-whump]

Prompt: Countdown Series: The Disaster Five Wordcount: 3k

* * *

It was ironic that the captain's name was Trust, because that was the last fucking thing on earth Arkady was inclined to feel towards her.

It was nothing personal, not really. Not yet. He was aware that on some level, it may even have been irrational for him to be so unshakeably convinced that this was the right call he was making. Arkady didn't give a shit. Rationality was not what was going to protect him in a situation like this one. There was a reason Captain Leonida Trust had chosen him in particular as her technician and mission partner and he wasn't about to delude himself into thinking that it was anything positive. She'd picked him after discussing the matter with Corporal Lloyd and Sergeant Graham, after all; the other shoe would drop sooner or later.

Captain Trust displayed bright friendliness and easy-going banter with nearly everyone she came across. Her brown eyes were warm, and her honey blonde hair was thick and wavy enough that it seemed impossible to entirely coax into the ponytail she constantly tried to tie it up in. Her suit's colors were loud and she was loud herself. She joked often and laughed whenever, wherever. When she smiled, people smiled back. Everything about the captain's demeanor and appearance was eye-catching, engaging, appealing, and even Arkady himself was not indifferent to her affable charisma. But Arkady could not consider all of this as anything else but a potential threat.

He'd seen affable charisma before. He'd made the error of wanting to trust it and then he'd sworn never to repeat that same mistake.

She was too familiar, just like others before her, in the way she tried to interact with Arkady. She touched him too freely, talked to him without titles as if they were closer than they really were, couldn't even be assed to give him the minimal amount of respect that was calling him by his last name instead of his first. She'd laughed when he'd communicated that he wasn't going to drop the use of her title that fast, like there was no way she was going to take his demand seriously, like there was no need for that safe hierchical distance to remain between them.

[lost-tanuki-tales]

CB’s backstory

Prompt: Muzzled Cast: The Disaster Five Word count: 1k

* * *

He didn't remember how long it had been. He didn't remember what his home had once looked like. He didn't even remember if he'd ever had a name other than "rat", "runt", or anything that was an insult. What he could remember, however, was a time when his muzzle hadn't been flayed raw by the stiff rope encircling it. 

He could remember what it had been like to be trapped beneath another body, reminisce with vengeful and desperate delight how blood has tasted on his tongue when he'd bit his attacker, and then shudder away from the memory of the big hand that had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and the thick, fleshy fingers wrapping around his nose and mouth to prevent him from lashing out. He'd writhed like a snake, hackles raised, claws frantically scratching at the air until his small body had been lifted up and smashed against the ground with a deafening crack.

There had been a lot of pain, back then. Now he was used to it.

Someone had screamed from afar- for him, probably. Maybe his family. The people who'd known him all had to be dead by now, and those that weren't must have forgotten. Forgotten the young runt that had to lay in his own waste and blood every day, small and famished and cold, robbed of the ability to even speak.

He could have remembered those things, but he'd stopped doing so a long time ago. His mind wasn't a place for thoughts anymore. Only primal, visceral flashes of consciousness remained, and they were red like his oozing wounds and loud like the people that shouted and cheered on the sidelines as his jaws snapped at his opponent of the day. Those were the only times his jaws could make that sound.

He'd spent nights and days crying, before, when missing the warmth of his home, the softness of his blanket, the gentle manners of his mama, the freedom of open valleys; but even crying was punishing and his sobs were cruelly and mercilessly snuffed out by the tight grip that forced his mouth shut. All he could do was whine softly in the corner of his kennel. Nowadays he didn't whine because he cried; he only did so to hear what remained of his voice, and even that action was not something he chose to do but the only way his body had found of calming itself down when his mind had disappeared.

Many things had driven him to this beastly state; the muzzle was the main catalyst. He'd heard others able to scream and cry freely, but this was his punishment for biting so often. He couldn't stand the unyielding and painful lines encasing his head, squeezing beneath his ears, crushing his snout, barely leaving him any space to breathe; he couldn't stand it, and yet he could. He had no choice but to live with that torturous sensation nearly every hour. Sleeping was not sleeping, but a morcelled amalgamation of suffering and whimpers and nightmares. Drinking was not drinking, but desperate attempts at licking the floor where rain sometimes trickled, or wherever his keeper spilled the water that was brought to him once a day. Eating was not eating, but ripping and chewing another beast's muscle and sinew as soon as the restraint came off. He always had injuries from the fights but his snout was a constant throbbing, bright pain that screamed each time he made the smallest of movements. He couldn't smell anything but his own rotting flesh.

His fur was always sticky. Cleaning it had long since escaped his realm of possibilities; he'd desperately attempted grooming to soothe his fear and anxiety in the beginning, but he could never get his claws free of blood and his teeth and tongue were trapped behind a mesh of metal and hard rope. All he could do was ceaselessly rub his muzzled nose against the wall in hopes of degrading it enough that it would snap and fall off. It never did. The inability to do something as instinctual and necessary as grooming was another thing that had pushed him over the edge of wildness.

His health kept declining. The flesh of others wasn't supposed to be the sole part of his diet, he could never drink enough, his ribs were showing and his fur was matted and torn off in patches. His skin itched and wriggled beneath the rope and the horrible smell kept getting stronger. His keeper never came close to his mangy form anymore except to kick him awake so he'd get up to fight; they didn't even try to grab him to drag him out anymore, too disgusted to touch him directly. It was obvious to the both of them that his energy was flagging, that sooner than later even the unrelenting fall of blows wouldn't be enough to rouse him. He was dying, but he had to survive. It wasn't because he was a courageous, tenacious, hopeful individual. There was no such noble reason for it. He just had to. It wasn't about living; it was about not dying. Animals did not want to die.

He was becoming slower.

Exposed flesh he'd had no issue ripping apart in fights now too quickly moved away from his snapping teeth.

He started getting deeper, graver injuries.

It got more difficult to bite into another's hide when his jaws didn't hold the same strength as before.

He could eat less.

It was too painful. 

It shouldn't have been possible for the muzzle to hurt even more.

There came a day when the agony of the muzzle grew strangely distant. He was lying on his side against the wall and hadn't even moved to relieve himself, weakened and dizzy, vision so blurry with heat that nothing seemed real. Clanging and rattling of metal burst into his sensitive ears like usual, but this time they barely twitched in an attempt to shy away from the offending noise.

There was a voice. He knew who it was but didn't have it in him to listen to the words they were speaking.

The kick in his flank threw him up against the wall like a ragdoll and he limply fell back down, his limbs too heavy to move. It hurt to breathe. He expected more kicks, but none came. Instead, the big boot nudged at him. Then his keeper crouched and tentatively reached out to pet his head. He would've jerked away, growled at the humiliating gesture, but nothing happened. He only closed his eyes. He was simply too spent to do anything at all.

"You're done for," muttered his keeper. "Shame. They liked you."

The big shape straightened and walked away.

"Someone clean up kennel seven," they called out. "The runt's nearly dead, just throw it out in the ditch."

He laid on the cold ground alone and in pain, small whines escaping his heaving lungs. He'd stopped thinking a long time ago, but there were still tears that started spilling down his scabbed fur when he understood that they wouldn't ever take the muzzle off before he died.

(The Disaster Five are also on AO3.)

[jeremystrele]

16 Talented Artisans That Deserve Your Undivided Attention

16 Talented Artisans That Deserve Your Undivided Attention

TDF Design Awards

by Lucy Feagins, Editor

Lucy Tolan pieces. Photography – Shelley Horan. Art Direction and Styling – Both.

Alison Frith ceramics plinth. Photo – Tania Bahr-Vollrath.

Lucy Tolan, Seams

The objective of Seams by ceramicist Lucy Tolan was to investigate technique and form through the construction and deconstruction of the vessel. The body of work explores the textile qualities of clay and convergence of materials through accentuated joins – seams.

See our feature on Lucy’s practice here.

Alison Frith, Ceramic Plinth

Inspired by the need for function yet the desire for considered design, Alison Frith created the Ceramic Plinth. Made entirely by hand, each plinth is wheel thrown, with composite pieces formed and joined together.

Precise attention was paid to weight and form to ensure the final piece could serves as a functional side table or a standalone sculptural object.

Georgina Proud ceramics. Photo – Georgina Proud.

Eun Ceramics. Right photo – Isabella King. Left photo – Jess Brohier.

Georgina Proud, Flotsam//Jetsam

Flotsam//Jetsam is a collection of clay vessels featuring embedded materials to create unique and distinct surfaces. In making the collection, ceramic artist Georgina Proud experimented with materials found on beaches throughout Victoria such as pebbles and sea glass, and investigated how these react to the ceramic process.

Eun Ceramics, Curved

Eun Ceramics’ Curved collective is an observation on societal norms. Irregular curves meeting the narrow neck opening, representing our individuality being suppressed or shaped to fit a status quo.

The unique style of ceramicist Jess Choi means each angle carries a different form and texture, creating new perspectives in the unusual clay bodies.

See our feature on Jess’ practice here.

Oh Hey Grace ceramics. Photo – Jess Brohier.

Oh Hey Grace, A Place To Call Home

A Place to Call Home is a collection of sculptures made from mid-fire glazed ceramics using a combination of sculpting, hand-building and wheel throwing by ceramicist Grace Brown. Sculpted utopian cityscapes and dwellings were developed in response to the often dystopian reality outside, particularly during 2020-21.

See our feature on Oh Hey Grace here.

Hamish Munro rings. Photo – Peter Ryle.

Left: Bioregional Rings by Kyoko Hahimoto. Photo – Kyoko Hashimoto. Right: Bioplastic Vessels by Jessie French. Photo – Pier Carthew. Art Director – Thalia Economo.

Hamish Munro, The Joan Series

The Joan Series by jeweller Hamish Munro consists of interchangeable, genderless rings designed around the precise geometry and angled position of individual stones. Pieces explore the removal of surface area within the ring, instead ‘subtracting’ from the classic form of a band and creating a dynamism between stones.

This collection represents a deviation and expansion on Hamish’s previous jewellery pieces as he broadens his experience with technique, process and familiarity with stone.

See our feature on Hamish’s practice here.

Kyoko Hashimoto, Bioregional Rings

This series of rings by Kyoko Hashimoto presents materials that can be found and processed locally in Sydney Basin bioregion. Raw materials include Hawkesbury sandstone conglomerated in the earth 250 million years ago, and coal from the Illawarra Coal Measures that formed in geological strata several kilometres deep below the sandstone.

The body of work intends to define a region by its environment and earthly yield rather than the borders imposed by humankind.

Other Matter, Algae Bioplastic Vessels

Tempering aesthetic beauty with future thinking, Other Matter has generated a collection of bioplastic tableware made using algae polymers and pigments. These aesthetically striking pieces reminiscent of glass are recyclable, biodegradable, and can be composted in a home system.

Other Matter is the studio founded by artist Jessie French. Her solo practice explores speculative futures and material boundaries through work with algae-based bioplastics. Her research into seaweed supply chains has taken her from artist residencies in Morocco to group shows in New York City.

See our feature on Jessie’s practice here.

Left: Liam Fleming glass. Photo – Josephine Briginshaw. Right: Jenna M Lee works. Photo – Henry Trumble.

Liam Fleming, Post-Production

Glassworker Liam Fleming’s practice combines mould-blowing and cold lamination. In Post-Production, he subjects objects to a rough surface treatment, fusing them at high temperatures in a kiln, then joining them in a manner at odds with the precision of cold lamination. The glass slumps and warps, collapsing under its weight and expanding with pressure.

The body of work was created as part of ‘Preliminary Strcutures’, a group show of seven designers curated for Melbourne Design Week 2021. The makers represented contemporary glass and ceramic work, displaying non-traditional and interpretive structures for their media.

Jenna M Lee, Body Language

Jenna M Lee is an artist and graphic designer living in Melbourne, whose highly symbolic work seeks to reclaim agency over the historic representation of Aboriginal people in Australia.

Using pages from the colonial text ‘Aboriginal Words and Place Names’, the artist created three dilly bags embellished with red silk thread and glass beads. The paper-based pieces in the Body Language series explore the relationships between cultural objects and adornments as an extension of the body; the body itself as an extension of Country and language; and Country, language and body as elemental factors of connection and healing.

Left: Sarah Rayner + Sophie Carnell works. Photo – Greg Piper. Right: Jan Vogelpoel ceramics. Photo – Jan Vogelpoel.

Sarah Rayner + Sophie Carnell, Florilegium

Porcelain artist Sarah Rayner and silversmith Sophie Carnell collaborated to create 42 small handcrafted sculptural works inspired by the complexity and richness of native flora. The duo’s chosen materials of porcelain and silver have been morphed from inert matter into 3D works.

Initially driven by a passion for the natural environment and the process of collection, the pieces en masse represent the poetry of flowers. The series is tactile, sensual and compelling.

Jan Vogelpoel Ceramics, Future Curve, Space Cadet and Curve

These three ceramic pieces are inspired by the curves of the Glebe House designed by Chenchow Little, and the Taal monument designed by Jan van Wijk. Restrained forms allow the form, curves and clay to work their magic without overworking or overthinking the design or the process.

Jan Vogelpoel‘s forms are undulating, organic and honest.

See our feature on Jan’s practice here.

Left: Photo – Polly Wright. Right: Photo – Ferro Forma Studio.

Erin.k jewellery + Koorie Tales, Source of Life + Essence at Dusk

Jewellery label erin.k jewellery created two collections featuring artist Holly McLennan-Brown of Koorie Tales’ artwork. Pieces convey elements of Holly’s Yorta Yorta culture, with the intent of making Indigenous art more accessible.

5% of sales from pieces in the collection are donated to Koorie Heritage Trust.

Alison Jackson & Dan Lorrimer, Flow Form Vases

Flow Form Vases by Alison Jackson and Dan Lorrimer (now Ferro Forma studio) blend small-scale metalsmithing production techniques with one-of-a-kind artwork processes to create a series of unique tableware objects. Complex hydraulic pressing tools allow the initial tubular form (in either brass or stainless steel) to be pressed repeatedly along its length, each time changing the surface.

Once formed, a multi-step finishing sequence layers the surface of each piece with a unique patina.

Left: Artist Alycia Marrday with her work. Photo – Marrawuddi Arts & Culture. Right: Erraarnta (red-tailed black cockatoo) by Rona Rubuntja of the Hermannsburg Potters. Photo – Hermannsburg Potters.

Alycia Marrday of Marrawuddi Arts & Culture, Baladjdji (Backpack)

Artist Alycia Marrday independently created this woven backpack with the support of community arts centre Marrawuddi Arts & Culture. Combining both ancient and traditional methods, the large and bright piece is an example of phenomenal weaving mastery. All materials are natural including Kunngobarn (pandanus) and Kala (natural dye) collected on Country.

Alycia says: ‘Maybe my kids give me idea, Anita. My kids really love the backpacks weavings. I look at the backpacks my kids have and try weave same pockets. I just used it from my own mind, I get the kala (colour) from my partner’s homeland.’

Rona Rubuntja of Hermannsburg Potters, Selected Works

Rona Rubuntja of the Hermannsburg Potters’ joyous style is distinctive, humorous and imaginative. Rona is a deaf and non-verbal person, and uses the medium of pottery to tell stories of her life. Each of these works emanate joy while depicting contemporary life in Ntaria (Hermannsburg community) and speaking to Western Aranda values.

The Hermannsburg Potters are an artist collective established in 1992 and has grown to nearly 20 artists. The artists paint stories of the surrounding Country, community, animals and memories of family onto the surface of their hand-built terracotta pots, topping each piece with a figurative sculpture. The works are vibrant, cheeky, purposeful and original, displaying a deep knowledge of Country, and a playful, vivid view of contemporary desert life.

See our feature on the Hermannsburg Potters here.

[himitsusentaiblog]

Apparently, this is a topic more than one of my followers wishes for me to tackle.  Let it never be said I do not listen to my followers.

TOP 10 VEHICLES IN TOKUSATSU

Because the requesters seemed to want to limit it to motorbikes or cars, I will not include any space-faring, water-going or flying vehicles for this list.  This is about wheeled ground transportation only.  Also, I won’t be including any giant robot component parts so if it transforms and becomes and arm/leg/head it’s not on this list.

So, ground rules set, let’s get started!

10. Spider Machine GP-7 from 1978′s Spider-Man.

Yes, in the Toei Tokusatsu version of the story of everyone’s favorite wall crawling hero, Spider-Man has a car.  It’s not just any car though, it’s an alien car from the planet Spider that launches forth from the Marveller starship to give Spidey extra mobility while chasing villains through the city. While this technically violates my rules because it can fly it is primarily a ground-based vehicle and comes equipped with machine guns and rockets hidden beneath the hood!

9. Goranger Machines from 1975′s Himitsu Sentai Goranger

The original set of motorcycles with sidecars from the original Sentai series have to appear somewhere on this list and only rank this low because they aren’t the best bikes from that era or even the best Sentai bikes of all time. They’re a bit blocky and kind of plain but they are just cool enough to edge out a flying car from the planet Spider, so that’s something!

8. Battle Hopper/Acrobatter from Kamen Rider Black/Black RX

I should probably count these as separate entries but they really are the same bike.  Battle Hopper served Kamen Rider Black well as a sentient motorcycle created by the evil Golgam the same as Black himself and was destroyed/killed in his final battle with Shadow Moon.  However, when Black was transformed into Black RX, Battle Hopper was also reborn as the more powerful Acrobatter to continue his service to the hero. 

7. Sidemachine from 1972′s Android Kikaider

Another motorcyle/sidecar combo this low-slung, streamlined motorcycle carried the android hero into battle against the force of DARK and propelled him on his quest to find and rescue his creator. This is one of the most low profile bikes on this list and looks super fast on film.

6. Tridoron from 2015′s Kamen Rider Drive

The newest vehicle on this makes is a sporty red car that is as much a part of Drive’s character as his belt. This is the vehicle that produces the tires used in his various power ups and actually becomes his armor for his final form.  It can be driven like a normal car or given over to Mr. Belt to let him drive. The steering wheel can become a sword and the door produces a gun, making it a vehicle and arsenal all in one.

5. Hakaider’s Motorcycle from Android Kikaider and Mechanical Violator Hakaider.

This is the only villain vehicle to make this list and it actually places higher than its heroic counterpart’s ride.  Why?  Because a Black Knight requires a steed as DARK as he is and this ride is the opposite of everything Kikaider’s Sidemachine is. It’s a high sitting touring bike, almost Harley-esque in appearance made for power rather than speed.  It’s also devoid of a sidecar as this man-machine has no need to carry anyone and works alone.  It fits his persona perfectly and that’s why it makes the number 5 spot on my list.

4. Zubat Car from 1977′s Kaiketsu Zubat

Like Spider Machine GP-7 this one is a bit of cheat because it can fly but it is primarily a ground vehicle.  This is Zubat’s primary means of transportation.  It’s very interestingly designs with the giant fan on the back, rockets on the side and the long, protruding nose on the front perfect for being used as a battering ram or the air intake for a jet engine hidden inside.

3. Den-Liner from 2007′s  Kamen Rider Den-O

There is no way I could make a list of important vehicles from tokusatsu and not include at least one train. Sure, this kind of sort of violates one of my rules because it can fly in some ways but it still travels along tracks, albeit tracks it lies down, making it a wheeled vehicle.  This is the train that travels through time, the primary mode of transport and home base for the heroes of Den-O. Without this train, there would be no story making it as integral to the tale being told as the titular Rider himself.

2. The Pointer from 1967′s Ultraseven

Arguably as famous in Japan as the 1966 Batmobile was in the United States, this car transported the TDF (Terrestrial Defense Force) elite Ultra Squad into battle against all of the monsters and aliens that would threaten Japan.  It was based on a 1957 Chrysler Imperial and made more public appearances than any other member of the cast save for Ultraseven himself.

1. The Cyclone from Kamen Rider

I don’t care if we are talking about the original version, it’s revision, the New Cyclone, the chunky touring bike version from 2016 or even the crotch rocket version from the 2005 movie Kamen Rider The First, the Cyclone is THE iconic vehicle in tokusatsu. The character gets part of his name, heck the franchise gets part of its name, from the fact that he rides a motorcycle and this is that motorcycle.  The essential red and white bike with the Rider logo is as much a part of the character as his belt, scarf or mask.  He is not Kamen Rider without the Cyclone!

[nightingveilxo]

The Blue Carbuncle, TAB, John’s Blog, and Granada: The Musgrave Ritual

[Originally part of Justifying Holmes/Watson or Johnlock as a Player in the Drama (Part I)]

NEW OPENING (VICTORIAN) TITLES (with a Victorian twist to the theme tune). Close-up on an issue of The Strand Magazine.  Nearby, a news vendor is calling out to the passing pedestrians.  He is holding newspapers and another copy of The Strand with a small red sleeve around it on which are the words “SHERLOCK HOLMES” and an in-profile white silhouette of the detective.  Offscreen, carollers can be heard singing “Hark!  The Herald Angels Sing.” NEWS VENDOR: Papers!  Papers! (A hansom cab approaches along the street.) NEWS VENDOR: Papers!  Papers! (The cab slows down as Watson leans out of the window a little and gestures to attract the attention of the vendor.) WATSON: Here. (The cab stops.) WATSON: How’s ‘The Blue Carbuncle’ doing? NEWS VENDOR: Very popular, Doctor Watson. Is there gonna be a proper murder next time? WATSON: I’ll have a word with the criminal classes. NEWS VENDOR: If you wouldn’t mind. (He points towards the figure sitting next to Watson.) NEWS VENDOR: Is that ’im?  Is ’e in there? (Holmes, mostly obscured from the vendor’s view, apparently kicks Watson, who grunts.) WATSON: No.  No, no, not at all.  (He tips a finger to his hat.)  Ah, good day to you. CABBIE (to his horse, shaking the reins at it): Walk on. (The cab sets off again.  The news vendor calls after it.) NEWS VENDOR: Merry Christmas, Mr Holmes!

The Blue Carbuncle. This is interesting, because that case isn’t on 21st century John’s blog. According to John, it wasn’t a case interesting enough for Sherlock to take on, and they go through a series of comments about Bond films and cat videos. [Side Note: In Granada, The Aluminium Crutch and the “Singular Affair of Ricoletti and His Abominable Bride” were cases Holmes did before meeting Watson.]

The Adventure of the Mazarin Stone was one of two instances where the original canon story was written in third person. It was based on a play, and Watson was barely in it. The other story was His Last Bow (HLB). The action in TAotMS all takes places in one room, rather similar to the beginning of TAB. The plot twist comes that the play has been what Holmes has overheard of a conversation between two criminals. Now, apply this idea to the one that Sherlock is still unconscious in hospital, but capable of overhearing and processing what is heard around him. It echoes Sherlock’s comment in TAB about his MP being able to do things more than what Mycroft knows, and Mycroft agrees.

Be sure to read @jenna221b meta about how the cases are twins, and fixes are being added in as well as Sherlock S4 as Epic Theatre.

In Terror By Night, which we know Mofftiss used in MHR, includes aspects from TAofMS. In Granada adaptations, this case was merged with The Three Garridebs, which were practically absent in S4 of Sherlock.

Mofftiss would have us believe all we got was the three men hanging around at the mercy of Eurus, but I’ve been working with the idea that Moffttis is re-enacting the post Reichenbach behavior of Holmes and Watson from Granada. Hardwicke replaced Burke after TFP (comparable to Sherlock TRF), and Johnlock wasn’t the same afterward. It takes several episodes before it returns to the warm, close physical proximity, flirtatious pairing we see before Holmes “dies” and Burke was replaced.

Interestingly, the cases that do show it, are the ones where Mofftiss borrowed the most from Granada. Granada The Devil’s Foot, Sherlock S4 Imagery, and Moriarty or Mortimer & A Little Glimpse Into Granada’s ‘Eligible Bachelor’ by @ebaeschnbliah (Also interesting that we posted these meta within hours of one another, without having talked about the influence factor at all.) As you can tell from the second meta, Eurus had an obvious reference in EB (although The Musgrave Ritual–which is used in Sherlock TFP), also gave a visual hint via Rachel, the one that allowed a man to die down a hole, and it showed the coming revival of Johnlock closeness–although it wouldn’t happen until TDF. If you don’t think that’s important, remember that Moffttiss said TD12 as a name only happened, because the name they wanted to use was taken. While writing this, I found a similar meta to mine about TDF by @devoursjohnlock Maybe I am helping connect dots…

From this meta by @may-shepard we see that Doyle’s story The Parasite, coincides with S4, and the also the dates from the story fill in the missing dates on John’s blog.

At the end of TLD, John and Lestrade are discussing the morgue incident. They specifically mention HLV (HLB in canon). It seems like they are wrapping up those loose ends Sherlock doesn’t like to have on his watch, but he’s been in hospital, even though according to what Sherlock and Mycroft know from T6T–the loose ends from HLV are already edited and he’s free of that.

According to TAB, all the modern elements we know of from Sherlock, are all lunatic fantasy…or metaphorical flights of fancy…Holmes theorizes it could come to pass, but only after the echo of the idea of having proper murders. Moffttis was adamant that Mary had to die, because that’s how it was in the stories, but it isn’t. We’re never told what happened to Mary.

TAB

Shortly afterwards, the car pulls away and drives off along the tarmac.  As the scene fades out, the familiar ‘Pursuit’ music starts … and almost immediately grinds to a halt. The screen remains dark for a moment and then … WATSON (offscreen): Flying machines; these, er, telephone contraptions … (The screen fades up to reveal Holmes and Watson sitting in their armchairs in the sitting room of 221B.  Each of them is smoking a pipe.) WATSON: What sort of lunatic fantasy is that? HOLMES: It was simply my conjecture of what a future world might look like, and how you and I might fit inside it. (Watson nods.) HOLMES: From a drop of water, a logician should be able to infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara. WATSON: Or a Reichenbach. HOLMES: Have you written up your account of the case? WATSON: Yes. HOLMES: Hmm.  Modified to put it down as one of my rare failures, of course? WATSON: Of course. (Holmes looks thoughtful for a moment.) HOLMES: “The Adventure of … the Invisible Army.” (Watson looks upwards, considering it.) HOLMES: “The League of Furies”?  (He leans forward, smiling.) “The Monstrous Regiment.” WATSON: I rather thought … “The Abominable Bride.” HOLMES (sitting back): A trifle lurid. WATSON: It’ll sell.  It’s got proper murders in it, too. HOLMES (pointing his pipe at him): You’re the expert. WATSON: As for your own tale, are you sure it’s still just a seven percent solution that you take?  I think you may have increased the dosage. HOLMES: Perhaps I was being a little fanciful … (He looks down thoughtfully.) HOLMES: … but perhaps such things could come to pass. (He stands up.) HOLMES: In any case, I know I would be very much at home in such a world. (Watson chuckles as Holmes walks across the room towards the right-hand window.) WATSON: Don’t think I would be. HOLMES: I beg to differ. (He looks out of the window.) HOLMES: But then I’ve always known I was a man out of his time. (He puts his pipe in his mouth and continues to look out of the window.  The ‘Pursuit’ theme starts again, this time with a Victorian twist to it, as the camera slowly pulls back.  Down in the street below, customers are going into SPEEDY’S Sandwich Bar & Cafe while more people – all dressed in modern-day clothing – walk past, and the road is busy with cars. A black cab passes a number 11 bus – destination Baker Street – as they drive past 221B … … where it is always 1895.)  

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