#to have the strength to leave? not a perfect solution of course not but such a human one

[mummer]

thinking about. after sally beats that guy to death and shes like I did this. and barry’s like, You didnt do this i did this. I did this. say it, say You did this. but shes still like I did this, I did this. and theyre both right. feeling sick that this is literally the first time barry is actually truthful to her, ever, the first time he’s holding himself accountable for the violence of his presence in her life. the first time. he DID do this. he wants to take all the blame from her, the agency from her. but the contrast is stunning because for sally that truth isnt her last resort, it’s the very first thing she says, she doesnt dodge the blame or lie like barry has done for YEARS, she DID do this, she has to own that, when he never could. honestly, sally feels much worse than she SHOULD about killing a guy in self defense who was only there because of barry’s malignance. like how was any of that her fault. she was being fucking choked on the ground and was going to die otherwise. but no! she refuses! no more lying to herself, no more rewriting her own story, no more!!!!! i did this!!!!!!

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve never had a particularly strong desire to get high. Altered mind states have always been somewhat unappealing to me. The only drug I’ve ever enjoyed taking was a prescription strength muscle relaxant that loosened all my knots at once and sent me into the boneless slumber of jello. Top marks.

But I have dabbled with pot. As I’m wildly sensitive to smoke my only recourse was to try edibles and anyone could’ve predicted this was a recipe for disaster. So here’s the story of the first time I got high.

Connor was a major stoner. He was a high energy guy who loved hiking, had his shit together, and absolutely loved getting high and relaxing. One day he decided to make pot brownies. Connor was an amazing cook in his own right but he came into my life at a time when I was eating mayonnaise sandwiches and started giving me real food so I viewed him as a paragon of cookery. He made amazing desserts. And he didn’t make a batch of no pot brownies.

I’d never had one of Connor’s brownies, before, but dear god I wanted one when they came out of the oven in a waft of rich chocolatey smells. They were fudgey and perfect and all that I wanted in the world was to eat one. I watched him take a bite, burning with envy and desire.

Being high seemed like a small price to pay if only I could sink my teeth into the warm splendor of brownie. I came up to where he was sitting on the couch, slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hey. I want to try a bite,” I told him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” I was sure as fuck that I wanted that brownie in my mouth.

Connor was sat facing the tv and held up his hand without looking so I could take a bite. I am not a creature of modest bites. And I wanted that brownie. I took a huge bite, carving into the interior of the brownie, leaving Connor with a only a rim.

He pulled his hand back and saw the brownie crime I had committed and gave a resigned chuckle. “Well this is going to be fun.”

On one other occasion in my life I’ve tried an edible and there was a brief relaxed period before things went horribly wrong that made me think, this is probably where most people stop and enjoy themselves.

But on this occasion, the massive bite of brownie didn’t drift me slowly up through layers of being high. It skyrocketed me into high space with great prejudice. I have no memory of a middle point, I wasn’t high and then I was suddenly so high I couldn’t function.

I’ve heard people talk about paranoia. I didn’t have that. Some people mention nervousness, no, none of that for me. My mind was simply gone. A thought would blip to life on one side of my brain and fail to travel through the fog to find its conclusion. I couldn’t think. I wasn’t really experiencing sensation. I was nothing in the void.

When Connor realized I’d been staring wall eyed at nothing for too long he said, “How are you doing?”

It took a long time to process the words and even longer to slur out, “I can see everything.”

I don’t remember him getting up and leaving, or waiting, or anything really. Thoughts flickered and died in my mindscape, meaningless and alone.

Then Connor put headphones on me.

I was unable to conceive of anything as wonderful as music surrounding me, and thus began the only nice part of the trip. I might have experienced ego death but at least I had the ethereal sounds of Pure Reason Revolution to wrap myself in.

I’m not sure how long the nice phase lasted. But eventually something started going wrong in my mouth. My throat became uncomfortable enough to pierce the haze I was in. It was almost numb, and impossibly dry. I drank water to no avail. Finally I conceived of the solution. “Ice cream!” I demanded of Connor.

He went to grab some and I was dismayed that when I took a bite the sensation in my throat intensified. “It made it worse,” I complained.

“Made what worse?” Connor asked, because of course I hadn’t actually told him why I’d wanted ice cream.

When I told him what was happening he said, “Oh, of course ice cream is going to make cotton mouth worse.”

“Well then why did you give it to me!” I complained. He smiled fondly at my irrational grumping and got me more water.

Finally I’d had enough. Music couldn’t erase my discomfort, I was getting frustrated I couldn’t think but I was still high as balls and I wanted the night to be over. Connor suggested I go to bed so I climbed up into my bed and lay there, uncomfortably high.

I couldn’t sleep. My throat was so cottony, a side effect I hadn’t known existed and I thoroughly loathed.

Then I thought: I could masturbate! Connor had talked about enjoying that while high. I’d give it a shot. My body however was wiser than my head and was having none of this plan. It refused to respond, stubbornly insisting that now was not the time.

I doubled down, refusing to give up on this horrible idea and in a bitter struggle, and against my body’s own wishes, I produced an orgasm that rated a 0 on the pleasure scale. Something happened but it was like a resentful flex of muscles that stopped immediately.

Furious with the overall experience of being high I buried my head in pillows and finally slept. I told Connor the next day about my attempt and he facepalmed so hard. “Why didn’t you just go to sleep! You were way too high to enjoy that.”

I grumbled and agreed that it was very stupid. I tried to weigh the single bite of brownie I had with the absolutely wretched hours of discomfort and while it didn’t quite balance it was still pretty close. It was a really good brownie.

[lovesuhng]

[16:47]

couple: sunny!johnny x grumpy!fem!reader

"Don't be afraid to cry in front of me, I've got you."

It seems like everything was purposely going wrong this week. University and your part-time job were killing you to the point where you missed the bus to university almost every day. Your performance in classes wasn't the best either and you knew that if you didn't try just a little more, you would lose this class.

Once again, you had woken up late, you were running towards class while trying to tie your hair, when you bumped into something, or rather someone and fell to the floor. That someone was Johnny, the personification of a friendly person, who was almost always happy, totally the opposite of you. Let's just say you weren't the nicest person around.

Johnny ran to help you get up, but you refused the man's help and went to your class, you didn't feel like interacting with people today and unfortunately for you, Johnny followed you, as you studied together.

At the end of the class, your teacher talked to you about your performance in the subject, as he seemed truly worried, you apologized and said you would work harder, but he said he had a solution:

“Johnny Suh will be your tutor” And like magic, the boy appeared next to you, smiling at you, who returned a forced smile.

“So, apparently we're going to spend some time together” Johnny said excitedly, as soon as the teacher left the room. The only thing you did was roll your eyes. “Hey hey, at least let’s exchange our cell phone numbers and arrange our first date… to study of course.” You handed the cell phone to him, and he did the same.

“I work every day after school, so I will only be available at night. We can start today if you don’t have an appointment.” ‘I want to start this soon so I can finish it soon’ was all you could think.

“Perfect, it’s in the coffee shop on the street behind the university, right?” The boy noticed your scared face. “Don’t worry, I’m not following you” He chuckled, but stopped as soon as he saw that you weren’t laughing with him. “I’ve been there a few times and I saw that you work at this coffee shop.”

“I’ll see you later.” You left towards your work, leaving Johnny behind.

A little before the scheduled time, Johnny arrived at the coffee shop where you worked and your co-worker said that you were getting ready to leave, but that your boss had called you to have a talk. Johnny decided to wait for you outside, but he was surprised by some screams coming from the back of the coffee shop. As he was very curious, he decided to look at what was happening and was surprised when he saw you leaning against the wall, with your head down and a man, who apparently was your boss, shouting at you.

“HOW CAN YOU BE SUCH AN IDIOT? TODAY ONLY YOU MADE 5 WRONG ORDERS! LOOK AT THE SIZE OF DAMAGE YOU ARE CAUSING! I DON’T WANT TO KNOW IF YOU HAVE PROBLEMS AT HOME AND AT UNIVERSITY, YOU HAVE TO WORK RIGHT!” You kept your head down, listening to everything he said. “I’m not going to fire you, but you better work properly next week”

“It won’t happen again, I promise” That was all you said and, as soon as your boss left, you took a deep breath, gathering all your strength not to cry there. It was the first time Johnny had seen you in such a vulnerable way and it tugged at his heart. He returned to the car and a short time later, you met him, who was waiting for you with a smile on his face, pretending not to have seen what had just happened to you.

“Come on, I think you had a busy day. Do you mind being in your place? Mine isn’t in good condition for visitors” Johnny said, opening the door for you to enter.

"Okay."

“Great! So, put your address in the GPS, please? Oh, I wanted to go somewhere first, I promise it will be quick.” You just nodded and got into the car.

On the way, Johnny noticed that you were not only tired, but also sad, but you were trying very hard not to show it. You noticed that Johnny was at a drive thru buying some burgers, you didn't want to admit that you were hungry and that you were happy that Johnny was doing that.

When you arrived at your room, you told Johnny to make himself comfortable and she would organize everything for you to eat, but the man preferred to follow you to the kitchen.

“We’re not studying today” Was all Johnny said as you grabbed a bottle of ketchup from the fridge.

“What?!”

“I know you didn't have an easy day, besides all the pressure from classes, I saw what your boss did to you, I don't want you to be more tired than you already are.”

“You don’t need to feel sorry for me about that.” You sniffled, holding back your tears and avoiding exchanging glances with Johnny as much as possible. For some reason, you felt like he could read you like no other person could.

“And I'm not. I just want you to know that you can count on me. Don't be afraid to cry in front of me, I've got you.”

All the tears that were haldin began to fall, Johnny's arms hugged your body. You could feel that your cold person mask had completely fallen and that you finally had someone on your side.

[growthgoddess]

Cassandra Vore, Growing Girl

One day, as Cassandra Vole walked through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, she spotted Daniel Page, a student gifted in Potions.

She harumphed and approached him, signalling the Frei twins just behind her to leave.

Now alone, she composed herself and approached him with the same arrogant air around her, careful not to reveal any hint of her secret crush on the boy who was busy mixing something in the cauldron beside him.

"Good afternoon, Daniel. I trust you're having a moderately adequate day," she greeted, feigning indifference as she strutted her way towards him.

Daniel smiled cautiously at Cassandra, he wasn't sure what to expect of the queen bee of Slytherin that was approaching him. "Ahem. H-hello, Cassandra. Yes, my day has been rather satisfactory thus far. Now if you don't mind, I have a Wiggenweld potion to compound."

Daniel added a few drops of Salamander Blood on the magically stirring solution beside him as it turned green. She wasn't exactly very affectionate to him since the day they met and Daniel has been on the receiving end of many of her "teases", borderline attempts to show her attention for him which can easily be interpreted as bullying instead.

Cassandra's cheeks flushed slightly as she attempted to conceal her true feelings. "I see you are busy concocting a very advanced brew."

Cassandra was never one for Potions, but she had the mental acuity to rival most Ravenclaw students of her caliber despite being a Slytherin blueblood.

Daniel simply nodded, trying to distance himself from the tall girl. But before Cassandra could utter another line, Professor Slughorn called for all students to enter the classroom.

As Cassandra turned to leave, Daniel couldn't help but notice the glimmer of infatuation slip through her emerald her eyes. He shrugged to himself, not realizing that her pompous demeanor might be hiding something more. He transfers the contents of the potion into a bottle and collects his belongings for class.

Later that day, Cassandra found herself eagerly awaiting Professor Slughorn's instructions. As fate would have it, today had a special project between two students. Cassandra eagerly made her way to pair herself with Daniel for the day's task—brewing a complex potion known as the Swelling Solution.

Daniel delicately measured the ingredients, ensuring their potion would be perfect. However, Cassandra mistakenly also added the same ingredient to the cauldron, a reckless mistake. The concoction bubbled and violently exploded. Professor Slughorn was quick enough to cast a Protego Totalum charm to protect his students, but it wasn't enough to block the Swelling Solution to splash on Cassandra, staining her pristine robes with the glowing blue liquid.

At first, Cassandra felt a tingle, a strange sensation coursing through her veins.

She glanced down and gasped as her body began to expand.

Professor Slughorn ushered his students to leave the classroom as he frantically searched for a vial of Deflating Draught.

Daniel hid and tried to find a way to help his partner.

Slowly but surely, Cassandra ballooned out and outgrew her clothes, her white silk gloves ripping apart as her hands grew, and her shoes exploding under the strain of her expanding feet. Her breasts filled out and lifted her loose robes to accommodate their burgeoning mass.

Despite the unforeseen turn of events, Cassandra found herself reveling in the newfound power surging through her veins. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she grew larger and larger, the stitching of her robes bursting one by one.

Professor Slughorn approached the growing girl and offered her the remedy to stop her growth and return her to normal.

Cassandra simply laughed and punched the plump professor square on the face. Her increased strength was enough to send him flying across the other side of the room.

Daniel, standing nearby, watched in horror and concern. "Cassandra, you have to stop! This isn't right!"

But Cassandra, now three times her original size and still wearing the tattered remnants of her clothing, ignored his pleas. She relished in her enormous form, her every movement exuding a sense of dominance and strength.

In an act of sheer might, Cassandra reached down with her massive hands and lifted the heavy cauldron effortlessly.

Her booming laughter filled the room as she tilted her head back and drank the entire batch of Swelling Solution, ignoring Daniel's desperate attempts to intervene by punching her thighs which were already as thick as tree trunks.

She gasped for air after drinking the entire solution and felt effects of the potion intensify her growth rapidly. Cassandra grew exponentially faster and larger.

The castle trembled under her colossal weight as she grew to immense proportions.

Her chest and hips expanded faster than any other part of her body, accentuating her now voluptuous form.

With her hands now as large as cars, Cassandra reached down and effortlessly scooped Daniel up, holding him with one hand and pushing the high ceiling with the other. Her laughter filled the air as she reveled in her gigantic size and power.

"Oh, Daniel," Cassandra's voice boomed, vibrating through the castle walls. "Look at me now! You can't ignore me with all... This!"

Daniel struggled in Cassandra's grasp, but his efforts were futile against her newfound strength. "Cassandra, please! You're... Crushing... Me...!"

But Cassandra's desire for power had consumed her. She ignored Daniel's pleas and continued to grow, her colossal form causing the castle walls to close in on her. Ancient stone and lumber simply crumbling like biscuits against her massive form. She grunted as she heaved and shoved through the walls of the structure yearning to be free of the confined spaces of the shrinking castle.

As she loomed over the devastated section of Hogwarts behind her, her giant form casting a shadow over the grounds, Cassandra's chest and hips grew even larger and faster than any other part of her body. Her appearance took on a mesmerizing beauty, but it was a beauty marred by destruction.

Suddenly her stomach growled.

"Oh my, it seems this growing girl is in need to sustenance." Drooling, she cast her gaze on the collective pile of students and staff of witches and wizards gathering in the courtyard of the crumbling campus.

"And I know just where I shall get it!"

"Everyone! RUN!!!"

The headmistress and the other professirs tried casting an array of charms to stop the giantess' advance including Reducio to shrink her down and Confringo or Sectumsempra to no avail. She was unstoppable, and hungry.

Cassandra's massive hand grabbed a handful of students and shoved them into her cavernous mouth, chewing and swallowing with glee.

Everyone panicked, some grabbed their brooms to escape, but they were simply caught by the calamitous Cassandra with just one hand as Daniel simply hung in the grasp of her other hand, helpless to the chaos.

Students and staff alike were consumed by the growing giantess until the halls of the massive school lay silent, even the ghosts and portraits stood silent and aghast at the situation. Even Peeves was missing, possible hiding out of fear.

But Cassandra, her voice now echoing through the crumbling halls of the school, responded with a mix of amusement and desire as she wiped the blood from her mouth and looked at her captive lover. "Oh, Daniel, it seems my growth has given me a newfound power. And now, you shall witness it firsthand."

With that, the colossal Cassandra Vole strode into the distance, holding Daniel securely in her hand.

The world around her shook with her every confident step in her stride, as she reveled in the dominance and thrill of her newfound size and strength.

"Wait until I get to cast an Engorgio charm on myself!"

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

Got hooked with a recently released Potterverse game in mobile named Harry Potter Magic Awakened. Gameplay is SO good and I am in love with Cassandra's character!

[softtdaisy]

daniel + “you’re not such a bad host, y’know.”

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x female!reader

Words: 930

A/n: soft Daniel is definitely my favorite, thank you for your request 💛

“Get back home safely! And don’t forget to text me when you arrive.” 

You looked at all the guests leaving your house one by one. You watched them reach their car, waving at you and sending you some kisses for those who drank a little too much. Lots of noise and suddenly the silence. The calm after the war. You kept looking for a few seconds, like you needed to be sure that everyone was finally gone. No more cars. Well, no. There was still one here. But this one was definitely not ready to leave.

Once you closed the door, you leaned on it and closed your eyes. You needed to enjoy this silence. It was almost like all the strength left your body to let the tiredness come in. What a stupid idea to accept to host this party. You should have said no. You should have refused the first time he asked the question.

“Everybody’s gone?”

You open one eye to look at the Australian standing in front of you with a big smile and his pride all over his face. Yeah you should have said to Daniel when he asked if you could host one of his friend’s surprise birthday party at your place. He had the perfect excuse to change plans at the last minute: there was a huge flood in his kitchen after the tap broke when he was away for a race. 

You could have said no, if you were the worst best friend in the whole. How could you look at that man's face and say no when he clearly had no other solution in hands besides asking you? 

“I hate you” you told him, breathless like you had been running a whole marathon. Of course Daniel laughed at this and came to you to take you in his arms. You felt all the kisses he was giving you on the hair and you couldn’t help but laugh against his chest too. He was such a huge teddy bear. Sure it was at your place but all the work he did to make this party perfect was insane. His friends were lucky to have Daniel in their life.

You were lucky to have him.

“You’re not such a bad host, y’know.” he whispered in your hair and you rolled your eyes so high it hurted. You told him you were a terrible host when he asked about the party. You told him that you didn’t mind doing it here, but it was the whole idea of you being the host and dealing with everything that caused you anxiety. Daniel promised he would take care of as many things as he could. And he did. 

But you were still tired like a truck ran over you.

“I accept the compliment” you said, looking at him. “But don’t think you’ll get away with all this mess because you’re being nice to me, Danny.” 

You pointed at the living room that you could see from here. You told his friends they didn’t have to do anything, meaning there were plates on the table, still some wrapping paper around the room and a floor you clearly needed to vacuum. That is one of the things you hated the most about organizing a party: the aftermath

“How about we take care of dishes tonight and the rest tomorrow?” he offered with a soft smile, like he was doing some kind of negotiation. You accepted his offer, clearly too tired to consider doing more than this.

So there you were at 2 a.m. doing some dishes in your kitchen with Daniel who kept singing the same song that was stuck in his head. You were even crying from laughing. How could you not? He kept changing his voice anytime he started the song again and used any utensil he found as a mic. 

You could get used to it. You already spent most of your time with Daniel when you could, doing things that best friends do. But spending your intimate time with him like this. Doing the dishes, making dinner together, looking for new furniture for the house, arguing about the movie to watch…wait, no, you already do that. 

You looked at him, still singing the same Taylor Swift song while cleaning your plates. It wasn’t the first time it occurred to you that Daniel was more than a best friend. That you wished his eyes were only looking at you. Or that you would be the only one to really see him. And you weren’t the only one wondering if there wasn’t more between you.

Earlier that night, one of his friends asked you about it. Or more exactly, implied without asking. “You’re lucky” she told you, to which you turned around to look at her only to see that she was looking at Daniel…who was looking at you. “I would die if someone looked at me the way Daniel does. This is the true look of love, trust me.”

“Stay here for the night” you suddenly said, stopping Daniel in the middle of his chorus. 

“You sure? I can come back tomorrow morning to finish it.”

“Don’t be stupid” you replied, giving him a shoulder bump. “I’d rather have you here than watching you leave.”

“You’re so sentimental!” He put his head on top of yours and you laughed at the sudden physical touch. “I told you, you are a good host!”

What he didn’t say was that he was glad you offered. Because Daniel couldn’t imagine spending his night away from you either. 

[maskyartist]

"Such a nice, plump frame, what's-his-name has...had...

Has."

proper AU info under the cut but i offer yall!

Eat or Be Eaten AU!

The Putt Putts were grateful for what they had. Every inch of Hole In Fun was theirs, and it was safe. With a metal door and high walls caging them off from potential Bergan attacks, along with plenty of land for growing crops... It was practically perfect.

Except...the limited food.

Crops were fine. Sweet breads made from flower-flour was always sustainable, but you can't expect an entire tribe to live off nothing but bread their entire lives. And meat was sustainable, but the frozens were running out. Their only sources of FOOD were running out, and Viva could see it on her subject's faces.

They were starving.

The following days of the realization included plenty of arguments, fights, and biting. Viva had to come up with a solution, and fast, along with Clay who was happy to help, and was just as desperate as the Queen.

Their answer, quite literally, arrived at their doorstep.

A Bergen. He was tall, but nothing like the grubby old Bergens who dug their nasty fingers in their Troll Tree all those years ago. And the sight of Trolls had him confused, then excited.

Then her people pounced, and Clay learned the clown crusher worked perfectly. Too well. Uncomfortably well.

While the Trolls celebrated their success at defending themselves, Viva and Clay were busy trying to figure out what to do with the body now. It takes their strongest Trolls to pull the body behind the Admin Building, a body that dwarfs the building itself.

They both retreat inside once the night and cleanup are finished, Viva on the verge of frantic. She needs her people to eat, SHE needs to eat. Everyone's hungry, they're running out of food, and she doesn't want to know what'll happen if they all fall into a feral state.

Then, Clay quietly moves to the window where the body sits...and a realization hits.

They can't exactly bury the body, and they cant leave it outside of the Hole In Fun, but they do have one way of getting rid of the body AND feeding their people at the same time!

If you ask him...

It's time they grow a taste for higher grade meats.

===

Basically instead of the Putt Putts hiding out and making the Golf Course as unnoticable as possible, they instead spruce the entire area up and give it a fresh coat of paint! it looks like its open, with shiny lights and happy music from the inside during "business hours" and after

When really, its the Putt Putts luring Bergens into their home to kill and eat them :D

If the Bergens thought they were tasty, then I can assure you these Trolls find them delectable~ Fatty and melt-in-your-mouth delicious. Plus, it makes them stronger. Much like how eating Trolls makes Bergens happy, Bergen meat provides Trolls immense strength and speed

Makes convincing Viva that the Bergens are good people MUCH more difficult i'd say

i'll also say after so long of lack of sugary foods (lets be real they ran out of sugar a LONG time ago all that candy got eaten VERY quickly), the Putt Putts actually CANT digest immense amounts of sugar as Poppy's Pop Trolls can :)

this is just for me ngl but i hope yall find it interesting!

[oddygaul]

Tunic

Tunic is clearly inspired by, and aims to recreate, the sense of mystery you have when playing games as a child - you don’t quite know the rules of the medium, you believe anything is possible, and you approach the world of the game with a mindset of curiosity, learning, and awe.

Wonder is a tricky emotion to capture in art; you have to strike the perfect balance of revealing enough to pique a viewer’s curiosity, to get their mind racing to try and fill in gaps and explore possibilities, but not revealing so much that you set hard boundaries and begin to limit the space. I think this is especially true for games. As a child*, games are a land of endless wonder, because you simply haven’t played that many of them. As far as you know, anything is possible: you’re not thinking of things like invisible walls, skyboxes, AI routines, limited possible player actions - you just feel like you’re exploring a virtual world. As you get older, unless a game is really pushing boundaries, or you’re dabbling in a genre you’re totally unfamiliar with, your brain starts to apply time-tested heuristics to understand what you’re looking at: what was once a vast, sweeping city teeming with life, residents and lit-up windows becomes a bunch of big empty rectangles which you know likely can’t even be entered. Now, part of this seen-it-all sensation is likely also due to games as a medium maturing, and certain techniques and design philosophies becoming standards rather than innovations; mostly, though, I think it’s getting older, having more experiences under your belt, and the loss of novelty.

*As someone first getting into gaming, I should say, whenever that may be.

All that to say, it’s an incredible feat when someone can create something that inspires those feelings in even a hard-hearted 30-year old, and Tunic joins the hallowed ranks of Outer Wilds and Return of the Obra Dinn in succeeding in that task for me. There’s a lot of overlap in the techniques these games use to accomplish this feeling:

A lack of overt directions / instructions on where to go and what to do

Trust that the player will pay attention, take time to think about what they’ve seen and read, then draw their own conclusions and make their own decisions

A more open-ended game structure that allows for a player to follow up on what interests them most

Perhaps most importantly, as mentioned before, that exact balance of knowledge and mystery to set a player’s head spinning, while leaving them hungry to explore & learn more. Each of these games has different solutions that create this information gap. In Obra Dinn, it’s the passage of time leaving you only able to pick up the pieces of what happened; in Outer Wilds, it’s the passage of time combined with the vastness of space. In Tunic, it’s not being able to fucking read.

As someone who’s spent the past 15-odd years more and less successfully trying to learn Japanese, Tunic’s manual system perfectly nailed how it feels to bumble through a piece of media that’s not in your native language. Particularly, Japanese has a weird thing about it where one of the alphabets (katakana) is primarily used for loanwords, and it’s perfectly phonetic. This means that as soon as you learn that set of characters, even if you know hardly any Japanese vocabulary or grammar, you can often pick out one or two intelligible words from amidst the sea of kanji - and usually end up more confused than you were before, because the English that gets used for loanwords is often fucking wild. If you haven’t had that experience but have played Tunic, it’s literally the exact feeling as opening a page of the manual and seeing: “?????, ??????????????. ????? THE POWER TO DEFY DEATH ?????, ??????!” or “???? ????? ?????? THE HEIR ????, ????????. ????? HOLY CROSS ????, ?????.” Just say ホーリークロス!  ザ・エア!! in your best JoJo voice and you’ve pretty much got it.

Of course, Tunic’s real strength is that it manages to provide that sense of wonder from a multitude of fronts, with clever design and storytelling around every corner. Some of my personal favorite touches:

When you first get (well, figure out how to use) the warp ability, and it immediately lets you warp to areas you have no context for, like the Heir's arena with the giant floating sword, or the closed-off chamber in the Ziggurat

The repeated iconography that you don't question when you initially see it, but which becomes more unsettling with each new instance. The first time you see a Here Lies the Hero gravestone, it makes sense; this must be where the fabled Hero was interred. After seeing like, the 4th gravestone with the exact same statue and epitaph, though...**

After spending hours in-game searching across the entire map for the RGB keys, you trek back to the temple in the overworld, slot them into place, the vast rings sink down, and... nothing happens, the world around doesn't seem to react in any way, and nothing pops up to indicate where you should go next. Love it.

Getting to the Cathedral, seeing the sacred carvings of what appear to be eldritch tentacle monsters, and having no fucking idea how that ties into anything - if that's not a Bloodborne reference, I don't know what is.

**I had a similar ominous, growing feeling with the decoy items that look exactly like your little fox. At first, due to my Gamer Knowledge™, I didn’t question it - surely this is just using my character’s design to make its gameplay role clear, right? By the time I was at the Ziggurat, though, walking through chambers full of writhing, captive foxes, it didn’t feel so harmless finding a little me-shaped doll locked up in a chest.

I think it’s great that even after beating the game and seeking out all the secret content, you’re still left with lots of questions and just enough answers for your own headcanon to start coalescing. Personally, my conclusion is that the denizens of this universe learned they were in not just a simulation, but a game, which is why all of their religious iconography looks the way it does. The obelisks, with their RGB symbol prominently featured, indicate the nature of their reality; the Holy Cross is a technique developed by devotees and scholars that found a way to alter the fabric of their own plane using the sacred geometry of the controller's d-pad. Sure, at its core it’s basically a video game becoming aware it’s a video game - which, you know, has been done a thousand times - but the supremely cryptic, desolate nature of this story just makes it hit different.

I certainly had my issues with Tunic from a gameplay standpoint. Design-wise, it bothered me that a lot of the level knowledge you learn in this knowledge game is map shortcuts and hidden passageways - only for those shortcuts to be removed in the second half of the game, i.e. right when it would actually be useful again. Also, I was not a fan of the combat. I dunno how to explain it other than just bad gamefeel. Your character’s controls feel relatively loose and clumsy, yet all the bosses can leap across the arena with no endlag, all while having five times your reach. At first, the unforgiving nature of the combat managed to make the world feel hostile and alien, like in a good Souls game, but by the halfway point I was just fed up with the overly punishing fights and wanting to get back to the parts I actually enjoyed. Fortunately, the game does have accessibility options, so I just turned the combat slider down and didn’t look back.

Anyway, while those slight misgivings stop it from being one of my all-time favorites, Tunic is still an incredible game. Years from now, I’m not going to think about my frustration with the lazy boss gauntlet - I’m going to remember the night I spent with my partner decoding The Golden Path, frantically scribbling on pieces of paper like lunatics and awed at the secrets that had been sitting right under our noses since the very beginning.

[nativestarwrites]

Tagged by the lovely @jamietarttsnorthernattitude thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

106

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

258,188

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Ted Lasso and Macgyver. I've dabbed in a couple others.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Unwritten Rules (Merlin) Running Through Emotions (Ted Lasso) Unexpendable (Endeavour) Side by Side (Ted Lasso) The Unknown Variable (Macgyver)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, I do try to, it might be somewhat delayed but eventually I do respond! I like to say thanks for taking the time to leave what are often very lovely comments and sometimes chat about canon or plot points.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

That's a tricky one, most of my fics end on a positive note, even if everything is not okay, there's hope that it will be eventually. A lot of my fics are full of angst though, it just gets resolved by the end.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Living Death? This might be because someone left a new comment on this old fic last week, but it does end with Mac and Jack taking the GTO out for a joy ride and I don't think you get much happier than that!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, I've had the occasional odd comment that I can't figure out but no one has really been hateful.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No, I'm ace, it doesn't really interest me.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not really. I have one tiny fic that is a crossover between Merlin and Macgyver though.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, I've had a fic posted to Wattpad without my knowledge. They did acknowledge that it wasn't theirs and was written by me. But it's still theft.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

USS Voyager NCC-74656

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I don't want to say never to anything but I've been saying I'll finish my Garden Fic for years and it's still not done.... :(

16. What are your writing strengths?

Bringing the angst! I like to think I'm fairly good at puzzling out plot problems and coming up with creative solutions. I generally get characters voices pretty good too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I could definitely do with getting tighter on my grammar! There's loads more I want to learn about being a writer and I'm far from perfect. I want to try out and learn from different genres, build my plot structure skills and develop my writing tools. And of course I have a bunch of bad habits. (I do like to start too many sentences with 'And...')

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I don't think I've ever done this but I'm not opposed to it, but I'd want to do it very carefully and be very confident in the translation!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Pretty sure it was SPN in 2007...

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

How can I choose between them?! It might be When Darkness Falls, I'm having so much fun with this, I've been working on it for a long while now and I'm still not bored, I'm so excited to show everyone the rest of the story and what happens! It's my longest fic by a significant margin and in it I can see all the fics that came before, the ones that built my writing skills to be able to write it, so I'm also fond of it for that reason.

I don't know who's already done this, feel free to ignore but I'm going to try tagging @rosieblogstuff @abubblingcandle @thirteenemeraldcats

[seaside-lovers]

A Perfect Fit – Hank x Kit – 1,510 words

A/N: I did not know how to end this but I did enjoy writing it. This was originally going to be posted on our anniversary but I didn't get to finish it in time.

No warnings. Not proofread.

What was approximated to be night had fallen over Nevada. As residents retired to their dwellings to rest and relax, it was a typical night at the S.Q. base of operations. Sanford had already gone to bed, likely asleep, adhering to his usual schedule – early sleep, early wakeup. Deimos was plopped in front of the rickety old television with snacks, whooping or laughing every once in a while, at the Slaughter Time™ Best Kills Special. 2BDamned was settled into his chair, the groaning of the practically ancient seat ringing out into the room – a mental reminder to have Kit find a new chair for him flitted through his drowsy thoughts.

Behind him, Kit sat on a table, her partner plopped in front of her on a chair. As she worked on Hank’s jaw, she chattered softly about her day while scrubbing at any gunk he missed, scraping away rust, and filing chipped teeth. The gentle sounds of her speech and metal scraping paused and fabric rustled as Hank raised his hands to sign a response. While Hank was usually not one to respond often and preferred to listen, tonight, the sounds of his jacket rubbing against itself as his arms moved to sign words – his usual method of conversation – were heard even less than usual.

He's exhausted. The thought came to the front of 2BDamned’s mind, and he mulled over it. Since the magnification process to revive Hank had been completed (or, at least, partially completed), the sudden doubling in overall size had made a major impact on him. With how much bigger he was now, Hank’s body consumed much more energy than before, and Hank had not adjusted to it yet, leaving him tired and grumpy when he wasn’t out on a mission. Even on missions, when adrenaline from fighting was coursing through his body, giving him the energy to fight through hordes of agents, he still seemed off.

Doc leaned forward, grunting softly, and grabbed a sticky note, then a pen. Check in on Hank. Run tests. Start brainstorming solutions. Endurance exercises, perhaps? he wrote on the sticky note before pushing it onto his computer monitor. His eyes squinted and he grumbled as he realized the sheer mass of sticky notes littering his monitor had grown – he was behind on tasks. Sniffling, 2BDamned propped his chin up with his hand, his other reaching for the mouse as he resumed work on the computer, mindlessly clicking on things in an effort to stay awake.

Maybe just rest my eyes a minute. His eyes drifted close and sounds slowly faded into the background of his mind as he fully fell asleep at his desk.

-----

Psst. Doc. Help.

2BDamned’s eyes fluttered open a moment at what he thought was his nickname being hissed out. He listened for a moment before passing it off as something else, then closed his eyes again.

“Doc. HELP. Please. He’s asleep.”

2BDamned let out a groan, now fully awake as he realized that no, it wasn’t a random sound that startled him awake; it was Kit calling his name.

He raised his arms up into the air, arching his back and stretching out the tight muscles, the tingling sensation in his arm turning into pins and needles. Dammit. He shook his arm out to help relieve the sensation before turning in his chair, grumbling out, “This better be important, Kit.”

“I wouldn’t wake you up if it wasn’t,” she snapped back.

Doc’s sleep-addled brain took a moment to process the situation before he snorted. She was certainly in a conundrum.

Hank must have dozed off during the cleaning process, as he was now completely slumped over onto Kit, her arms pinned under him as she visibly began to shake with the effort of keeping Hank from collapsing onto her. While Kit had been working out to increase her strength, she certainly was not strong enough to lift the beast of a man off of her without disturbing him. “Get over here and help me,” she hissed out as quietly as possible. “He’s so damn heavy. One of us is falling if you don’t help me, and you know what happens when Hank is startled awake.”

2BDamned grimaced and pulled himself out of the chair with a grunt, taking a moment to stretch his muscles as the memory of Hank being startled awake and injuring Deimos came to mind. Hank was cool and collected when awake, sure, but he was a jumpy mess when it came to sleeping. Deimos had accidentally knocked into him when he plopped onto the sofa Hank was asleep on, waking him up and setting off his fight instinct. Doc really did not want to deal with that clean up again.

2BDamned carefully approached the two, reaching out a hand and gently rubbing Hank’s back. “Hank,” he whispered softly, wanting to wake him up as gently as possible. He could feel Kit’s gaze staring at him, raising an eyebrow at his rare showcase of gentleness.

Hank grumbled at the sound of his name being called, snuffling deeper into Kit’s shoulder. 2B continued to gently rub his back, slowly reaching a hand under his chest, working with Kit to gently pull Hank up into a sitting position. He grumbled again, finally cooperating with them as Kit scurried out from underneath him to his side, pulling his right arm around her neck as 2BDamned pulled his left arm around his neck.

The two carefully walked Hank back to his makeshift room – rarely used because of his time spent away from the base, it had become a temporary storage room in the time he was gone. Hank hadn’t seemed upset about it during his visit back to the base – instead, he had gathered up various blankets and pillows, forming a nest in the corner of the room that he would snuggle into when he slept.

Doc and Kit carefully lowered Hank onto his nest, 2B stepping back into the doorframe as Hank got comfortable, stretching out before curling up into a ball. Kit took a step back before Hank gently wrapped a hand around her leg, muttering out a quiet “Stay”.

“I guess I’m sleeping here tonight.” Kit grinned, her sharp teeth reflecting the light from the doorway. 2B snorted, turning away.

“I guess you are.”

He turned to look back one last time as Kit kneeled down, getting settled onto the blankets as Hank pulled her in to snuggle. The two shifted to fit better, Kit letting out a deep sigh as Hank snuggled deeper into her shoulder. 2B shut the door behind him as he left, making his way back to his makeshift office, wide awake now and ready to continue working.

Seems like they were made for one another. While they had not gotten along when Kit first joined the team, Doc had figured that they needed to get along well if they were going to work together. He hadn’t expected their sparring sessions to eventually bloom into a romance, but he wasn’t complaining. At least Kit was able to keep him more in check than Doc ever was.

He got back to his office, glaring at the tools and mess Kit had left behind from cleaning Hank’s jaw. Pulling out yet another sticky note, he scribbled out, Remind Kit to clean up her mess. He paused a brief moment as he reviewed his note, thinking about the times he spent cleaning Hank’s jaw before Kit came along and volunteered to help him with his tasks. While Hank had been working for him for a while, it still was hard to trust him. He certainly liked to keep to himself and follow his own path. Even with Hank being in a vulnerable position while having his jaw cleaned, Doc still kept a close eye on him, never fully relaxing around him.

Kit was different in that manner. While Hank’s cleaning sessions with Doc were quiet, Kit loved to talk to him, even before they became friendly. She used this time to inform Hank about everything she could think of, putting him at ease as she cleaned – she was much gentler than Doc in that regard, trying to relax Hank since he always hated having his jaw cleaned.

She really does care for him.

Sometimes Doc had his doubts about their relationship – they were two very opposite people, yet they seemed to click in a manner that Doc had never seen in Hank. The killing machine was very cold toward everyone – only recently starting to warm up to Sanford and Deimos, a difficult task after the incident in Nexus City – yet he was so relaxed around Kit. In a way, they were perfect for each other. Whatever made them happy in the hellhole that was Nevada probably made it easier for them to face the next day, he figured.

They fit with one another.

With that conclusion, he sighed as he stuck the note to the computer, settling back into his chair and preparing for another long night of work ahead of him.

divider credit

[redstrewn]

I feel like the reason they canceled the poly route is cause it really kinda doesn't make sense. Like even with character development that's basically par for the course in a game like this, their personalities will mostly stay the same and that won't work with a poly route cause they'd fucking kill each other

Admittedly idk anything about poly relationships so i cant really speak on it. However I do think about how the plot kind of makes me think of the hero's/heroine's journey. That is, it can kind of reflect someone's personal journey of transformation/development.

So like, I kind of see how the LIs can stand for the "monster" within yourself too. Facing that monster instead of shunning it or denying it. And being transformed by that experience. Idk I'm kind of talking out of my ass, I'm not completely knowledgeable on the hero's/heroine's journey.

Anyway I mention this because that would make sense with the answer that RSS gave regarding the question of poly routes: they said that there's a certain level of "intimate" that it's not really made to fit for (paraphrasing here, but they did use the word "intimate" or some form of it). By considering the Touchstarved plot as something that could reflect one's personal journey in facing "the other/shunned" within yourself, that one-on-one focus makes sense. I hope I'm making sense lol.

But anyway. I'll use this opportunity to kind of explore the hero's/heroine's journey and Touchstarved since it was always on my mind anyway.

The illusion of the perfect world

The ignorant bliss that MC was in before they set off on their journey. Pre-betrayal and all. Happiness in their temple/with their partner in crime/with their teacher.

2. Betrayal/disillusionment

Traveling mage reveals the true nature of the Unnamed's curse. Partner betrays the Hound. The Alchemist realizing they're being used as a test subject.

3. The awakening & preparing for the journey

MC leaves home. Knows they can no longer stay. They look outside themselves for solutions: the Senobium at Eridia becomes their goal.

4. The descent: passing the gates of judgment

Doubts/fears/shame about their identity and new lifestyle. To move on they must give up their preconceived solution (Senobium, a cure) and doubts holding them back. "This stage can be moved around the journey."

I think it's clear they will have to accept their identity as a monster.

5. The eye of the storm

"A small taste of success brings a false sense of security. They relax and take a chance they shouldn't take."

"Similar to Boon of Success, they triumph for a short period of time. However, this victory serves as a false calm. This stage can be moved around throughout the journey."

Wonder if MC will experience False Security Part 2, Electric Bogaloo. Probably will. There'll probably be a time where everything seems to be going well with their LI. It all goes to shit though. RSS wants to emotionally wreck us after all (that's so based of them).

6. All is lost/death

"Things get worse. There is no hope. They failed and accept defeat."

Yeah I'm pretty sure this tragic ass story will get here.

7. Support

"The hero(ine) accepts the help of the supporter and comes to understand that 'being alone is never enough.' This stage can be moved around throughout the journey."

The LIs could help them or cause their demise.

8. Rebirth/moment of truth

They find their strength/resolve/courage/hope from support. "They fully understand their place in the world and how they will face her doubts." They "awaken" and sees the world and their role in it differently. Faces fear with compassion.

I think whether directly or indirectly, the LIs will teach MC about accepting the monster within themselves.

9. Return to a new world

They see the world for what it really is. They understand themselves better and this changes the way they live from then on. "This change is more spiritual and internally driven than external."

They understand their curse isn't to be cured. They know to live accepting themselves for who they are. They understand their place in this world. Their identity as a monster.

---

I only have passing wikipedia/online blog surface knowledge about hero/heroine's journey, so any clarifications or additional thoughts from anyone would be appreciated.

Edit: I realize after writing this I didn't exactly elaborate on how the LIs themselves can reflect the monster within MC (not just their curse). Idk my mind scattered rn but I guess it's bc MC's curse is purely physical whereas the LIs have set themes that one can relate to. Right now, MC is a blank slate meant to fit anybody. Someone who seems to lack a fully fleshed out theme. Choosing which route to take feels like choosing which monster (and their theme) calls out to you, tbh. The monster within yourself. Idk i project a lot on these characters but I'm not entirely alone. I see a lot of people get attached to the LIs because of recognizing themselves in them.

Edit2: i think it's bc the hero's journey gets compared to like "facing the shadow" and stuff like that. The shadow being "the other." Now Jung is a can of worms when it comes to western-centric beliefs and psychology stuff about this get heavily gendered, but the narrative structure of the journey being personal development and facing what one denies/struggles to face in oneself is pretty relevant methinks.

[rosemarydisaster]

Hi Hello, I know I haven't talked a lot about CR lately (my brain won't let me watch it for some reason) but I'm back to talk about The Legend of Vox Machina, particularly: Grog.

Spoilers for The Legend of Vox Machina episode 9 below. There will be spoilers for the stream too, but I will also mark down where those start.

I love love love all the changes. Not only do I think they're a great way to adapt the absolute beast of content that CR is. Some are good sacrifices, there's shit gotta leave out, no matter how entertaining. I think they've pick very well what to leave completely out. Also, they're really smart in the way they've fused different adventures so they can have a two for one (like adding stuff from the rakshasa fight to the dungeon crawl at the Matron's temple so they can have that Kashaw-Kiki interactions). And of course there's the switching the order so it's more streamlined thing too, like Pyra. But what I thought was the best decision was the party splitting on the past three episodes.

Sure, you should never split the party and I hope they don't abuse that solution or that at least they play with the different combinations because it can be a detriment to the group dynamic. But this time?? They nailed it.

The fey wild group was perfect, you have all the development you need for the ships and also Vax and Percy get to patch things up a little and the twins are together for the family reunion. you have all the people important for a Vex Arc on one side.

On the other hand, you have Grog go through his arc with the two people most important to him. I love the Vax-Grog Dynamic, but like in the OG fight against the Earth breaker, his first choice will always be Pike and his second Scanlan. Also, you get some cute gnome flirting and a bit more development for Scanlan since Pike is the one that challenges more his flirty nature. Vex and Percy are permanently done with him, but they treat it like something that's just intrinsic to Scanlan. You can't change the weather, you simply complain about it. Pike on the other hand is the one that gets frustrated at the fact that Scanlan is unable to have a proper heart to heart or to be sentimental without defusing the tension. And Grog bringing out Scanlan's more caring nature is a nice touch. So it is the perfect team for Scanlan progress too.

But going back to what I actually wanted to talk about (because my Scanlan Meta will come too, but most likely next week) Grog. I love what they did with Craven Edge, I love how the show allows them to have this more "feelings based" resolution to Craven Edge's exhaustion. Because in game greater restoration or a night's sleep heal literally anything unless the DM specifically requests it.

What this does is it gives them the chance to introduce the whole "where does your strength come from?" Question in a place where the stakes are super high and it's thematically appropriate. That whole speech about how Grog considers strength helping those who can't help themselves...chills.

Now spoilers for the stream

I think it also Segways brilliantly into the whole "My strength are my friends" by maybe combining it with the whole "Vox Machina...Fuck shit up". If that happens, I'm gonna cry so hard I will dehydrate. I love the fact that they are giving so much attention to Grog, his growth his emotions because they're often brushed off. Travis wasn't still super comfortable roleplaying emotional scenes in campaign one and Tal, Liam and Marisha had a lot os experience and really angsty characters. Also Laura and Sam are just that powerful, you can't expect most people's experience first character to be that emotionally vulnerable (specially while streaming).

Ashley was also more nervous with the streaming and stuff, so Pike and Grog while not underdeveloped at all, usually didn't have the emotional spotlight on them the way we're seeing in the show. I think giving Grog the physical vulnerability and stripping most of his companions away is a great way to allow that depth to shine. When you don't have four extra characters each making questions and each proposing solutions, the spotlight shines directly on Grog and I love it.

I've always treasured those rare moments were Grog gets to open up and show his heart. I really love that trope of big dumb character also has emotional complexity, so I really enjoyed the last episode and I can't wait for the next one.

[untilteddocument]

After-Action Archive Caves of Qud - Challenging the Sky-Bear

Welcome again, one and all, to the After-Action Archive! This is another fun incident in Caves of Qud, less weighty in a plot sense than the last one, but connected to some intense in-game history.

I'm starting to make these regularly enough that I guess this could count as a semi-full LP outside of the beginning quests, but it's still more or less a sort of highlight reel. With that in mind, it's time to wake the other sleeping bear.

Things have calmed down since the defense of Grit Gate. The Barathrumites have largely gotten back into routine, and I've been back to exploring ruins and generally trying to make my way in Qud. However, there is a larger reason behind my explorations now, thanks to my meeting with the namesake and founder of the Barathrumites, Barathrum the Old.

After the defense of Grit Gate, he had answers for what he's been having me do.

That's pretty heady stuff, and it explained why, in the face of the Putus Templar, he considered this matter particularly urgent. Now, there's more information he gave that isn't relevant to this specific event, so I will leave that for later, but the gist I got is that things will become more dangerous from here on out. I'm not going to let the Putus Templar near-overwhelm me like they did last time.

For that, I need to get stronger.

And that's why I'm here in Bethesda Susa again. I was finally able to scrape together the items that some sparking baetyls in the middle levels were requesting (the rewards were nice but nothing special), and furthermore, I had a couple of ideas for upping my combat efficacy that I figured were ripe for the pursuing.

For one, I've secured the assistance of another friend.

Meet the third member of my motley crew, Warden Indrix of Kyakukya. Whereas Ualraig and Esther are more balanced in terms of stats, Indrix is plainly weighted towards offense. His signature two-handed axe and his full spread of axe skills make him extremely dangerous on the attack while his horns, despite acting as a shield, provide a paltry amount of extra armor when blocking, equivalent to a buckler. It buys enough time, considering his Regeneration mutation, but he is reliant on his strength to kill faster than he dies.

This, of course, made his ideal ranged weapon obvious to me.

The turbow is the perfect weapon for high-strength characters. Its base penetration of 4 borrows Indrix's incredible +9 Strength modifier to reach 13, then is further boosted by 4. I'm less certain on what exactly it does as far as damage (I think it boosts the arrow's damage from 1d8+2 to 5d8+3, but I could be wrong), but either way, that high penetration value will deal a lot of damage on average. Scoped helps compensate for Indrix's less-impressive Agility, and using a biodynamic cell specifically is for sustainability, since Indrix will be surrounded by blood on a regular basis.

My other companions have been updated as well. Ualraig's is more obviously dramatic.

In place of his ironweave cloak, I instead gave him a pair of helping hands, back-mounted robotic limbs that effectively give him the Multiple Arms mutation (and would stack with that if he gets it!). That's a total of four weapons he can bring to bear, two of them being effective against any amount of armor. That being said, vibro blades do require power to be effective, and while he does have a brace of energy cells available, I lucked into a different solution.

Four levels of Electrical Generation is more than enough to power those vibro blades permanently, and the gun itself isn't bad at all. I also instructed him to start training in Multi-Weapon Fighting, which would make his arsenal even more effective. For defense, I was able to procure a legendary artifact for him.

The best arm-mounted buckler in the game, Stopsvalinn offers a decent amount of extra armor on block, and also provides a costly but useful option of encasing him in a force bubble, similar to a force bracelet. It's the best extra defensive option he has available without sacrificing one of his weapon arms for a dedicated shield.

And speaking of shields...

The resident shield specialist did get some upgrades to her equipment, but in a more subtle way. Rather than directly increasing her damage-dealing or defensive capability (aside from the extra elemental resistances of the new gear), I've given her several items, ranging from that relic floating glowsphere to those tricked-out sunglasses, that boost her Ego. I'll explain why later, but for anyone unaware of the effects of that, suffice it to say for now that this was an intentional decision.

This wasn't all, though. There are a couple of powerful options I have in mind, but for that, I needed to undertake a challenge.

Bethesda Susa has history sealed within it, plain to see in the abandoned floors between the surface and the Mechanimists' Temple of the Rock. This used to be a facility of deft artifice, with a particular focus on medical technology.

The three trolls in the upper levels clearly relied on the pools of convalessence to bolster their ability to survive combat, but the many regeneration tanks in the abandoned wards beneath them clearly relied on those reservoirs pumping into them to function. Nearby those were lockboxes and cabinets filled with bandages and tonics, anything one would need to cure any sort of physical ailment. Scattered among them were chalkboards and worktables, ready for equations and projects long forgotten. For other needs, there was a cybernetics facility in lower floors with still-functional becoming nooks.

And below all those, just above the Temple of the Rock, lay the aptly named cryobarrios. The cryobarrios are the most literal of the history sealed within this place, with creatures frozen and preserved in clouds of cryogenic gas. The majority of them are creatures of great zoological interest and danger.

And one other.

Here, in the icy depths of Bethesda Susa, lay preserved a legendary warrior, former lord magistrate, conqueror, the one to seal Ptoh's dimensional prison. That name, especially, is enough to bring pause. Ptoh is a godlike scion of the darkling star, a creature capable of warping space and matter to Its will. Though not widely-spoken-of, Its influence is widely felt. The amaranthine prism, the artifact that drove Indrix's older brother mad, is a key to Ptoh's prison, and the Disciples of the Sightless Way hunt and consume the essence of espers in thrall to Ptoh's command. To imagine a being capable of even briefly matching It in combat chills my blood, though hardly as cold as the warrior himself, now.

Saad Amus, the Sky-Bear

The thing is, I know of Saad Amus not just from history. Through some twist of fate, a clone of him lives in Kyakukya, a convert to the worship of the Ape God Oboroqoru. I imagine that even with Indrix absent, Kyakukya would not be wanting in protection. For now, though, we would be testing our mettle against the original. One could easily describe pitting my group against a single fighter is unfair.

And one would be right!

I'm a tinker! What incentive would there be for me to fight fair? He'd cut me down with ease. In any case...

After smashing the cryochamber open, I waited. The ice was too thick, and we couldn't do much else but think and let him thaw out.

Hm.

Defensive stance confirmed my research; he's using a long blade. At least that means there's less need to worry about losing an arm. That does, mean, though, that our weapons are still not guaranteed. He could knock them out of our hands and finish us at leisure. In addition to that, it's a vibro weapon, and that is a threat at any level. I'm not keen on seeing how much damage he could do with it. At least omniphase isn't relevant to us since none of our defenses involve phasing out. That phase spider better watch out, though!

Hm.

On the plus side, that armor value's hardly impressive (aside from it not being due to any worn piece of gear, except maybe those sandals?), but I don't know how agile he is. At any rate, if we can hit him, it will likely hurt him. Him having more HP than any of us might be a problem if he dodges everything, though.

Hm.

He's rated as Tough, same as Ualraig. I wonder if that means they'd be an even match for each other, even in a duel. If that's the case, we've got this in the bag. That sure would be nice.

At this point, I imagine it would be obvious to any observer that I was trying to soften the anticipation and dread by strategizing. Every turn spent waiting was heavy with it. I had confidence that we would prevail in the end, but at what cost? And would this worry affect that? Would my arm, sluggish with awe, find its mark too late?

Try to stay still, stay calm in the storm.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Not tensed but ready.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Not thinking but not dreaming.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

N-

Saad Amus saw fit to cut my rumination short by jetting forward faster than thought, handily knocking my gun to the floor, then hitting me for roughly a quarter of my life. An opener to be expected from the sealer of Ptoh's prison.

I silently thanked him for jolting me into action.

Before that, though, I had previously mentioned Ego, and this is where it's relevant. Aside from affecting trade values and acting as a threshold for certain skills, it actually gives a boost to mental mutations...of which Temporal Fugue is one. Thanks to the boost, Esther is now literally six motherfuckers!

Also, it's my turn again, so let's see how well the legendary warrior takes having an ar-

Oh shit.

I guess we've got a brawl brawl on our hands.

The good thing is, Saad Amus is focusing on me, and I'm by far the least of the threats to him in this group. On the other hand, if I go down, it won't matter to me how many companions I have. Doesn't look like he'll be able to do anything unless he focuses me down, though, and with my medical supplies plus his lack of stunning attacks, he won't get much of a chance at that. Even swiping at us and making us all back up for a bit is only delaying the inevitable. With a flurry of projectiles and one last swing from my picked-up axe, he goes down fighting, an end both fitting for a warrior and ignoble for one of his stature.

As we stand over his body and pay our final respects, I wonder. Was this truly the warrior who was able to match Ptoh? If so, what does that mean for us? Have we proven ourselves strong enough to do as he did, in the event of its need? Given my decisions, our actions, are we bound to take on the responsibility of his mantle?

More worryingly, what if this was merely a victory over ring rust, and we had just crushed any hope of deliverance if Ptoh's prison weakens enough?

Then I remembered that there's a bunch of clones of this guy and they're all exactly as capable as he was, so we should be okay, at least in concert.

Well, as capable, but not as equipped.

This item, the Flume-Flier of the Sky-Bear, is unique to the original, and it's a near-perfect match for his weaponry. That being said, it's also a good match for Indrix's fighting style plus matches his portable beehive's dodge value, so I gave to him.

And then I promptly forbade him from using it in towns because he kept zooming around the Stiltgrounds and tearing himself up on those fucking massive patches of fractus.

A good start, of course, but the true aim of challenging the Sky-Bear was his weapon.

The ceremonial vibrokhopesh, which accompanies every Saad Amus, is a full upgrade to the common vibro blades that I'm able to make. Note the lack of a slot for an energy cell; that isn't because this thing doesn't need power. Where does it get that power, then, one might ask? The answer is simple.

Nothing.

This piece of technology is powered by what is called a Zero Point Energy Collector, a marvel of engineering possibly from the days of the Eaters themselves. It generates enough charge each turn to power the weapon's adaptive penetration value. The drawback to this is its very advancement; as it warps reality to achieve its effects, normality-imposing effects work to stop it, and with no energy cell slot, it has no backup available.

And that's where my specialty comes in.

Sharpening the blade adds to its penetration value, meaning that with its variable penetration, it will always have a better chance to pierce armor multiple times for more damage. Rigging it to deal extra electric damage makes it useful against robots and other foes that are vulnerable to that, but the real bonus is the slot it grants for an energy cell, giving the weapon a mundane backup if confronting normality effects. The last modification is protection against the only remaining way to shut its adaptive penetration off: EMP. Seeing as the Putus Templar make liberal use of both methods of disruption and rely on their heavy armor, this also makes it more consistently effective against them.

The result is a masterpiece of a weapon made even stronger.

I can only imagine that even Saad Amus himself would have appreciated this upgrade. As it stands, Warden Ualraig's praise will have to do.

And while we're at it...I've got a metamorphic polygel to spare.

Granting this pair to Ualraig as his new main weapons and relegating the regular vibro blades to the helping hands will make him and the party by extension far more dangerous. While I don't relish fighting the Putus Templar again, they and anything else that seeks our ruin would do well to approach carefully.

I'll tell Indrix he can use the jetpack again. I'll fucking do it.

[lazaruspitreborn]

Open starter

Jason had been out for some grocery shopping and nothing else, just a quick grab and go short list of basic things he really needed for his place and ingredients for the week's meal preparation and he could be back home in less than an hour.

It was a perfect plan until he stopped by the crosswalk and heard a commotion going on. 'It's nunnya business Jay, just keep walking.' Said one side of his mind as he crossed to the other side and turned on the corner. 'But you might be the best chance at help right now.' Exclaimed the other side of himself as a counterpoint to make his steps halt and he turned on the heels of his feel to go see what was going on.

A kid locked outside in a car, apparently passed out. People were gathering around, but only one did something about it an all they did was call the police, which Jason calculated that wouldn't be enough, because the cops wouldn't get here fast enough.

'Leave. You're not on duty.' Another debate started inside of him, and it would eat his mind if it wasn't for the fact that he had a huge weakness when it came to kids. Call it a reflection of his life that he couldn't walk away from and ignore.

And, of course, when a man of his size walked into a crowd, if Jason wasn't making himself small, it made others step to the side.

"Gotta break the glass. Anybody has a pen? Like a heavy duty one?" Jason asked with careful control of his voice, threading a line of urgency as he looked around the crowd who were worried about the kid. "C'mon people! There's a kid dying in there! Help a man help her!" He put on some more strength on his voice to get them to search.

A few seconds and a woman handed him not a pen, but a self-defense keychain that looked like a cat with sharp ears and that fit on her knuckles; not the best solution, but it would do for the emergency, and it was better than a pen. Jason closed his fingers around the loops on the thick metal of the keychain and quickly started to punch at the weakest spot of the glass until it broke and he could slip a hand and arm inside to pull on the lock-pin and open the door.

He pulled the limp body of the little girl into his arms to protect her from the shards while getting her out, then looked around to see if anyone knew her, but the crowd seemed to be formed by strangers alone - not good.

The little girl needed medical attention, but the closest hospital was too far away, so the next best thing was... Jada's mobile clinic. Jason should be able to get her there faster than most even though he was going as a civvie, after all, he knew the city better than most, especially the poor side of Gotham.

Another ten seconds and no one claimed the kid, so he took the decision himself and began to run to where he knew Dr. Thompkins would be, he'd deal with the possible consequences later, but first, Jason was going to save this little girl's life.

The minutes felt like an eternity until he handed the little one to Jada and was free to go back to his... oh, shit! Jason forgot his grocery bag amidst the commotion! And now it wasn't where he left it.

A heavy sigh escaped him as he realized what just happened. Truly, Jason couldn't help himself, he loved the people of Gotham and the city itself in his own way, and he did all he could in and out of costumes to make it just a little better. And in turn, often ended up being smacked on the head by the rest of the world for being too giving to strsngers and the people down on their luck of the city.

"Oh, well... hope someone have a nice week with my food and toothpaste." Jason shrugged to himself and pulled his hood up to go back to his day - he wasn't going back to the store, but took his way back home with his hands in his pockets and a slumped postured to blend with the crowd again.

[heroinejinx]

‘A proper drink’ - Advices and Vices, part 1 of ? (CaitJinx Modern AU)

So, another fic to add to my bow, this time in the form of a crack ship! 

‘Advices and Vices’ is named after the Chelsea Wolfe song of the same name, which is part of my PistolWhip spotify playlist which you can listen to here !!

AO3 link here

My hyper-fixation made me do it lol enjoy!

(4,520 words)

Alone at a bar in Zaun, Caitlyn nursed a gin and tonic. The ice had melted, and the liquid was becoming room temperature. She’d made one drink last over an hour. It was a useless talent: the ability to wait for someone she knew wasn’t coming.

Vi was a no show, once again. She refused to sign the divorce papers. Refused to even discuss the situation like adults. She was lashing out, angry and hurt. Still, Caitlyn had hoped to keep things civil, hence the drinks. Neutral location. Easy escape route. Cards on the table. It seemed like the perfect solution when she thought of it. But, of course, Vi disagreed.

They always disagreed.

Caitlyn stayed and waited until the clock fixed to the wall above the bar crept towards ten. Two hours after they were supposed to meet, and still no Vi. Caitlyn was at her limit. She downed what remained of her drink, grimaced at the strength of it as it slid down her throat, and stepped away from the bar. That was that, then. Communication breakdown. Vi had made her point: she was beyond reasoning with.

The cool night air smacked at her cheeks as she left the bar. She looked up at the cloudy sky, reflecting the green of The Lanes’ neon lights, and let out a sigh of disappointment. Things could’ve been so different. Why was Vi like this? How had things turned so bitter between them?

An unmistakable cackle brought her gaze back to the street. Not now. Right in front of her, head tilted and grinning ear to ear, was the last person she expected to see.

‘Well, if it isn’t my soon-to-be ex-sister-in-law,’ Jinx drawled. ‘What’re you doing out so late? Isn’t it past your bedtime?’

Sister-in-law? Caitlyn saw red. Vi’s bond with her younger sister had strained to near breaking point over the years, with Jinx often blaming Caitlyn for the distance, and now that it was all over, they were suddenly sisters-in-law!? Gods, everything that girl said was pure venom, designed to hurt and sting and eat away at you.

‘You’re barely a sister to Vi, let alone anyone else,’ Caitlyn raged. ‘And yes, it is getting late. She’s stood me up. I’m going home.’

‘Ouch.’ Jinx pouted and wiped a pretend tear from her cheek. Sidled up to the entrance, closer to Caitlyn. ‘Well, don’t be boring, Kiramman. Have a drink with me instead.’

‘A what?’

‘No hard feelings, I swear,’ Jinx said, a shade more serious. ‘I’ll even pay.’

She’d pay? With what, Silco’s blood money?

Somehow Caitlyn couldn’t say that out loud. Jinx was being strange, almost pleasant. They had built their relationship on forced civility and underhand mockery. No favours, no kindness, nothing remotely friendly. Caitlyn couldn’t think of a time they’d spent one on one that didn’t end with them tearing chunks out of each other. So, why then? Vi was crashing at their friend Ekko’s place, heartbroken, yet there Jinx was, engaging with the woman responsible, offering an olive branch to someone she’d never even liked before. Where was her loyalty? It felt like a trick, but Jinx wasn’t usually one for mind games. The sisters’ mutual, brutal honesty was a trait Caitlyn had always admired.

Jinx opened the door, forcing Caitlyn to decide: walk away, or stay?

‘After you, sis,’ Jinx winked.

Caitlyn groaned and rolled her eyes at the blatant mockery but didn’t leave. Instead, she re-entered the bar with a swing in her step. Fine. If Vi wouldn’t speak to her directly, she could do it through her sister. Good enough.

She entered first, with Jinx close behind. Rather than slouch at the bar like before, she made a beeline for a table nearby and settled into one of the padded leather armchairs surrounding it.

As Jinx waited for service at the bar, Caitlyn watched her. Scanned her up and down, as though staring at her would somehow help explain what was happening. She wore her usual, grungy get-up, worlds away from Caitlyn’s smart casual blazer, blouse, and chinos. The alternative look suited her. She couldn’t imagine Jinx in any other style. It wasn’t Caitlyn’s taste, but it was Jinx all over, and she owned it. She always looked good; Caitlyn conceded to herself. Vi and Jinx had their looks in common, too.

‘Gin and tonic for the lady,’ Jinx said.

She handed Caitlyn her drink and plopped down in the chair opposite, careful not to spill any of the cocktail she’d gotten for herself. It was bright pink with tiny specks of glitter floating around inside. Classic Jinx.

Drinks with Jinx. Caitlyn was having drinks with Jinx… It felt like stepping into a parallel universe.

‘Thanks,’ Caitlyn said. ‘And what’s that abomination?’

‘Unicorn daiquiri,’ Jinx shrugged and took a sip. ‘Yum.’

‘Only you would order something so vile-sounding,’ Caitlyn jibed.

‘Okay,’ Jinx scoffed and put her drink down on the table. ‘I’m trying not to be a bitch here, Cait. Like, I’m actually trying to be nice, so…’

‘Oh.’ Taken aback, Caitlyn wasn’t sure what to say. She gulped down some of her drink and fidgeted with her necklace, as her cheeks grew hot with discomfort.

How was she supposed to talk to Jinx without ridiculing her? It was the only dynamic they’d ever shared. And how the hell was she supposed to know Jinx was trying to be nice!? As a matter of course, Jinx was not nice.

‘Y’know what, it’s fine,’ Jinx said. ‘I get it. You’re, uh… you’re going through a lot right now. I’m probably the last person you wanna be around.’

‘Pretty much.’ Caitlyn spoke from her gut without passing it through her brain first, but a pinch of compassion made her soften a little, and she recalibrated; if Jinx was trying, she could at least meet her halfway. ‘Although, in fairness, I can think of worse company.’

‘Jayce?’ Jinx’s joke made them both chuckle.

‘Ah, he means well,’ Caitlyn snickered. ‘Poor bastard.’

‘What about Vi…?’ Jinx bit her lip, as though she was nervous for the answer.

‘What about Vi?’ Caitlyn countered. Enraged. ‘She was supposed to meet me here tonight and stood me up. Did you know that?’

Jinx shook her head, but she didn’t look surprised. Caitlyn continued ranting, regardless.

‘We were meant to finally have a proper, adult conversation about everything but, of course, she’s not ready for any of that, is she? No. She’d rather bury her head in the sand and pretend none of this is happening.’

‘Well, she loves you, Cait,’ Jinx said, and shifted in her seat like her body rejected the words. ‘She’s probably gonna be like this a while; she’s stubborn like that.’

‘Yeah, don’t I know it,’ Caitlyn grumbled, fed up.

It was beyond belief that she was confiding in Jinx about all of this, so out of the blue, but what else could she have done? The pressure of it weighed on her, impacting her chest. She had to talk to someone other than Vi. Her father was too nice, her mother too judgemental, and Jayce was far too invested in his research to concern himself with trivial issues like, oh, say, human emotions.

Sitting there with Jinx, just the two of them, it occurred to her how few people she had in her life. She couldn’t think of a single other person who would’ve chosen to sit there with her like that, just talking, hanging out, letting her open up. Encouraging her, even. Jinx was always unpredictable, but this took the cake.

Caitlyn found herself smiling a sincere, heartfelt smile, and decided to embrace the unexpected change to her evening, and the unusual company.

‘I just want… need… to move on,’ she explained. ‘It’s been six months since I filed, Jinx. Six months I’ve waited for her to sign those bloody papers.’

‘Okay, and? You left her, Cait,’ Jinx stated, matter of fact. ‘She doesn’t owe you anything.’

‘Right. Except a little human decency, maybe.’

‘Well, people in pain don’t have a whole lot of room for decency.’ Jinx was more acquainted with pain than most. She and Vi weren’t too close those days, but it must’ve been hard seeing her sister like that. ‘Maybe you’d understand pain better if you’d ever really experienced any,’ she added, her tone a little too scathing for comfort.

What happened to trying to be nice?

‘Because ending my marriage of three years was so easy and pain-free for me?’ Caitlyn spat out without thinking.

‘Oh, please,’ Jinx sniped back. ‘Leaving Vi was a relief. Admit it.’

‘A relief?’ Caitlyn smarted. That one hurt. Too close to home. ‘What the hell is this, Jinx? I don’t get it. One minute, you want to get drinks, tell me you’re trying to be nice — whatever that means — and the next you’re laying into me, making me sound like some kind of heartless bitch. If you’re just here to argue, I’d rather go home.’

‘Sorry,’ Jinx held her hands up in mock surrender. ‘We’ll table it. Or eighty-six it. Whatever the phrase is. Let’s just… talk about something else.’

‘No,’ Caitlyn said plainly. ‘No. We’ve started now; might as well finish.’

Bracing herself, she took a gulp of the bitter gin and tonic, thought it wasn’t nearly strong enough. If she and Jinx were really having this conversation, she’d need at least five more. Maybe the whole bottle.

‘What makes you think I’m relieved?’ She dared to ask.

Jinx’s eyes flared a little, then narrowed with intrigue as she sat forward, arms resting on her lap, head tilted, holding Caitlyn’s glare. The smudged out black around her lids made her blue irises glisten even more than usual. Caitlyn grew hot under her restrictive suit jacket, as Jinx reached for her drink and took a sip of the sparkling liquid. Chewing pensively on the straw, Jinx refocused on Caitlyn.

For a long moment, they just sat and looked at each other, until Jinx broke the fixation with a snicker, a shake of her head, and another sip of her sickly-sweet cocktail.

‘That,’ Jinx said pointedly, still snickering, ‘that’s what.’

Caitlyn felt flustered, like Jinx had duped her, ‘…what?’

‘You never looked at Vi like that.’

Oh, gods. ‘Like what?’

‘Like you wanted to ruin her.’ The words rolled off Jinx’s tongue, silky smooth and self-assured.

Where the hell did that come from!?

Caitlyn spluttered, almost choked on her drink. Cleared her throat. Tried desperately to compose herself. ‘Excuse me?’

Jinx thought… Jinx actually thought that Caitlyn wanted to… Nope, she wasn’t recovering from that one anytime soon. She couldn’t decide if she felt offended or amused or called out. All of the above, probably.

‘Kidding!’ Jinx erupted in laughter and took another sip of her drink, as the colour returned to Caitlyn’s cheeks.

The audacity was unbelievable. Where the hell did Jinx get the nerve to make jokes like that? Did she realise there was truth to it? Fuck. More gin hit the back of Caitlyn’s throat, and she winced.

‘Okay, but seriously,’ Jinx levelled out, grin fading, ‘all I meant was you never really looked at Vi like you were interested in what she had to say.’

‘What?’ Whatever Caitlyn felt before, that remark had definitely offended her. ‘Of course, I was interested!’

‘Not that interested.’

‘Yes, I was!’ She prickled, conflicted at defending the quality of a connection she’d already said goodbye to.

‘Come on, Cait,’ Jinx drawled. ‘Why deny it? I’m not saying you weren’t in love with her, but you don’t exactly have much in common. The two of you were kind of an odd mix from the get-go. Brains and brawn, you know.’

‘Opposites attract,’ she said feebly.

‘Right,’ Jinx said, quirking a cynical brow. ‘Until they realise how badly matched they are and repel each other.’

‘I’m starting to think eighty-six-ing this wasn’t such a bad idea.’

‘Okay, we won’t talk about it,’ Jinx shrugged, as if to say she didn’t care either way.

Her nonchalance was infuriating. Worse still was the smirk that followed; she knew exactly how annoyed Caitlyn was becoming, and she revelled in it.

‘Good.’ Caitlyn forced a smile and took another sip.

She’d nearly finished her drink, but Jinx had most of her cocktail left. If she wanted to, she could’ve easily made her excuses to leave there and then. Time was ticking on, getting later and later, and if they weren’t talking about the Vi situation, what was the point in talking at all? Jinx’s veil of niceties was already wearing thin. Soon, it was bound to vanish completely, and they’d be stuck in a heated confrontation with only the bartender there to pull them apart.

If Caitlyn was honest with herself, fighting with Jinx didn’t sound too bad. She was so angry at Vi for not showing. So let down. Jinx was the perfect distraction. The pair of them could argue about anything. She polished off her gin and tonic, wracking her brains for a new topic. It needed to be less triggering than the impending divorce but still bound to cause friction.

‘So,’ Jinx began, beating Caitlyn to the punch. She leant further forwards and propped her chin up on her wrist, elbow balancing on her crossed knees, ‘if Vi’s off limits, what else is there to talk about?’

‘I was just wondering the same thing,’ Caitlyn replied. ‘Are you still seeing that guy?’ The name escaped her. ‘Um… the one you work with.’

‘They’re not a guy,’ Jinx corrected. ‘They’re nonbinary, their name’s Ran, and it turns out they’re a huge asshole like all the others, so…’

Once again, Jinx shrugged, acting like what she had just said didn’t matter, but it did. Breakups were difficult, and from what Caitlyn knew from Vi, Jinx had experienced far too many; what she went through mattered very much.

‘Wow, I’m sorry,’ Caitlyn said, embarrassed by her silly mistake. Misgendering people wasn’t something she took lightly. ‘I’m not sure I ever even met them, did I? I know so little about you outside of Vi.’

‘Yup.’

‘What happened with Ran?’ Caitlyn asked out of genuine concern, but it probably seemed like she was just being nosy.

Jinx scoffed and slouched back into her chair. Glancing Caitlyn up and down in scrutiny, she bit her lip and chuckled.

‘What?’ Caitlyn demanded.

‘So, we can’t talk about your love life, but mine’s fair game?’ Jinx’s tone was teasing, but there was a warning in there somewhere, a threat behind her shimmering eyes. ‘How’s the job? Make any cool arrests lately?’

Okay, so, abrupt topic change. Caitlyn could work with that, she just had to sidestep the jab of irritation at Jinx’s choice of topic. If she wanted friction, her career choice would no doubt produce it, so there was that. Jinx knew from experience how discussions surrounding Caitlyn’s work inevitably ended badly. Maybe she was after the same thing Caitlyn was? A return to their default mode of mutual disdain. No more of that faux kindness Jinx had kicked things off with. Back to what they were both used to.

‘Why? Met any criminals lately? Other than yourself and almost everyone you associate with, of course.’ Caitlyn mocked, but a softer, almost flirtatious intonation replaced her usual edge.

That was new.

Jinx tongued her cheek and grinned, returning Caitlyn’s energy, before grimacing at her half-drunk unicorn daiquiri. ‘How about whoever invented this drink? Turns out you were right; it’s disgusting.’

Caitlyn’s head spun; she was right about something, and Jinx had freely admitted to it. This wasn’t their standard sparring. Not even close. And the energy between them… Had she misread Jinx’s intentions? What was going on?

‘Dare me to down it?’ Jinx asked.

‘…what?’

‘My drink, genius.’

Jinx giggled and stood, stretched her limbs, clicked her fingers, readying herself. And then, with a deep breath and a ‘here goes,’ she pinched her nose and drank down the rest of her foul drink in a string of hastened gulps. When it was all gone, she wiped the excess from her mouth with a triumphant grin, performed a theatrical bow for Caitlyn’s benefit, and finished with a shudder.

‘Bleugh!’ She exclaimed. ‘So, so gross!’

‘What an achievement,’ Caitlyn dryly replied, but she couldn’t deny that Jinx’s antics amused her. To her chagrin, Jinx’s company wasn’t so bad. It beat being alone with her thoughts, anyway. ‘My round, I suppose.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to keep humouring me, Cait,’ Jinx said.

It was a clear out for them to go their separate ways for the night, and probably for the rest of their lives. A short while ago, Caitlyn would’ve taken her up on it, and that would’ve been the end, but…

‘One more won’t hurt,’ Caitlyn smiled, and slung her handbag over her shoulder as she stood. ‘You need to get the taste of that shit out of your mouth.’

Before Jinx could protest, Caitlyn marched up to the bar and ordered them both a gin and tonic, but made Jinx’s the pink and fruity kind, something she’d like. As she paid, she looked over her shoulder and met Jinx’s gaze. Those penetrating eyes. It seemed the younger woman was watching her, just like Caitlyn had watched her earlier.

A jolt of excitement rippled through her before she could stop it. Fuck. No. She couldn’t let Jinx affect her like that. It was the gin, she told herself. She was tipsy and lonely, touch starved. This thing with Jinx was just drinks with someone who no longer held a place in her life. A meeting of opposing forces bound in different directions. A mutual way of saying goodbye. Nothing more.

‘Now,’ Caitlyn said, as she returned to the table and placed Jinx’s pink gin in front of her. ‘A proper drink.’

‘You really didn’t have to,’ Jinx said. She took a cautious sip, as though expecting to hate it, but the second she tasted it, her eyes lit up.

‘Good?’ Caitlyn asked. The answer was obvious from Jinx’s reaction alone, but she wanted verbal confirmation. Further acknowledgement that her instincts were right. Praise, maybe.

Chewing on her straw with a twinkling grin, Jinx looked Caitlyn up and down, lingering on her lips before flickering back to her eyes.

‘It’ll do,’ she said, playing coy. She seemed to know exactly what Caitlyn was angling for, but she wasn’t willing to give it easily. ‘So, what now?’ Her teasing tone continued, as she enjoyed more of her new drink. ‘We’ve never hung out this long without Vi or someone else interrupting.’

‘Mm,’ Caitlyn agreed. ‘To tear us apart before things turned ugly, usually.’

‘Pfft, how ugly could things have gotten, really? Who doesn’t like watching hot girls fight?’

Caitlyn twinged at the implication that Jinx found her hot. Chased the unwanted arousal down with more gin.

‘Vi, for one,’ she said, the bitterness of her drink still resting on her tongue. ‘She’d sooner knock us both out than watch us get physical like that.’

Get physical? Great choice of words, Caitlyn.

‘And look at us now,’ Jinx snickered. ‘She’d hate this even more. Her estranged little sister and almost ex-wife actually enjoying each other’s company… She wouldn’t know what to do with herself.’

It was a fair point. The scenario unfolding that night would perplex Vi beyond all reason. If they told her, she probably wouldn’t believe them, even though it was happening because of her. Her unreliability had thrust them together.

But, well, it wasn’t Vi that had kept them together. They’d made that decision for themselves. Like Jinx said, they were enjoying each other’s company. Who knew such a thing was even possible?

‘Actually, scratch that,’ Jinx said with a heavy sigh and a roll of her mesmerizing eyes, ‘I know exactly what she’d do.’

‘Oh, yeah? What’s that?’

‘She’d tell me to get the fuck away from her wife,’ Jinx said. ‘Naturally, I’d tell her to fuck off, and uh… well, I think we both know how that’d go, right?’

The words snaked under Caitlyn’s skin and lodged in her gut like sticky tar, too truthful to deny. She tried to digest them. Vi was always protective, jealous, defensive, especially when she didn’t need to be. In the end, it was partly why Caitlyn left. The redhead’s temper bested her time and time again, and Caitlyn had to pick up the pieces. They’d lost so many friendships and opportunities because Vi just couldn’t help herself. Her paranoia was too much. It made her say and do things she shouldn’t have, not caring who was there to bear witness. She even exploded around Caitlyn’s parents at the annual Progress Day Gala, humiliating everyone involved. The fact was, she needed help to cope with the trauma and bullshit of her childhood—therapy, medication, anything that might’ve brought her some peace of mind—but any time Caitlyn brought it up, it caused yet another argument.

It wasn’t hard to imagine Vi arriving at the bar, hours late and hateful, primed for a confrontation. If she saw Caitlyn and Jinx sat there, talking the way they were, gods knew what conclusions she’d spring to. She’d think they were having an affair, talking behind her back, mocking her. She’d probably do a lot worse than simply tell Jinx to leave. Jinx, her sister and only surviving family member, had been on the receiving end of Vi’s anger too many times to count.

The two were as troubled as each other, Caitlyn reminded herself. Jinx lashed out with her words, and Vi, her fists. Neither of them coped particularly well with life. Then again, neither did she, really. She was just better at pretending than they were.

‘I’m sorry,’ Caitlyn spoke into the silence that had fallen around them.

Jinx frowned, ‘for what?’

‘I just… I can’t imagine having a relationship like that with a family member,’ she admitted. ‘My parents can be a pain in the arse, but that hardly compares.’

‘Yeah, well, you’re an only child, Cait,’ Jinx said, blunt and straightforward as ever, but with a smile this time. ‘Sibling dynamics are fucking weird. Don’t worry about it.’

‘I grew up wishing I had siblings, you know. A house full of brothers and sisters, people to play with and talk to on my own level…’ Caitlyn wasn’t sure where the confession had come from, only that it was heartfelt, and it seemed like the natural thing to say. She went along with it, curious where the thought would lead her. ‘It probably sounds stupid to you, but I always felt like I was missing out on some magical part of life. D’you think… d’you think I’d be different if I wasn’t an only child? More sociable, maybe? More likeable?’

‘You are likeable, Cait,’ Jinx scoffed but kept her smile, softened her gaze, ‘honestly, I don’t think you’d be half as interesting if you weren’t so neglected and alone growing up.’

The painful truth in Jinx’s words spliced with a warm feeling of acceptance: to Jinx, Caitlyn was likeable and interesting. When and how the fuck did that happen?

‘Plus,’ Jinx continued, ‘having lots of family around isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Just means you’ve got more to lose.’

Ouch. Jinx had lost so much in her short life. So many people she’d considered family were no longer around. Dead, or worse, they’d abandoned her. So much grief. So much loss.

‘And you, Caitlyn Kiramman, are really fucking bad at losing,’ Jinx snickered, wordlessly encouraging another round of repartee.

Always the jester, especially at the expense of her own suffering. Another admirable quality.

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Caitlyn chuckled. ‘I never lose.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Jinx arched a calculating brow. ‘I seem to remember beating you at a few shooting games in the past.’

‘That’s because you cheated,’ Caitlyn gladly reminded her. ‘In a fair match, I’d win, hands down.’

‘Still with the cheating allegations?’ Jinx shook her head. Drank down more of the tasty pink gin concoction. ‘You really can’t handle losing, can you?’

‘Of course, I can,’ Caitlyn retorted, growing a little defensive. ‘When it’s earned.’

‘Pfft, I more than earned it,’ Jinx rebuffed. ‘You just can’t take it when someone’s better than you.’

‘Come on,’ Caitlyn scoffed. ‘It’s not about being better or worse, it’s—’

‘Bullshit!’ Jinx interrupted, springing forwards across the small table so they were almost nose to nose. ‘I’m a better shot than you are, and it kills you.’

Her breath tickled Caitlyn’s lips. It was sweet and heady with booze and the slightest trace of cigarette smoke, almost irresistible… it seemed so easy to lean in a little further and…

What the hell was she thinking!?

It was like Jinx read her mind. She remained in Caitlyn’s personal space, propped up by her strong wrists either side of Caitlyn’s folded, sweaty hands and half-supped gin and tonic. Caitlyn fiddled with her rings and the stem of her glass, shifted in her seat, avoiding Jinx’s astute stare however she could. A long, slender finger traced her jaw and hooked under her chin, forcing her to look back up.

‘Admit it,’ Jinx said, huskier than before. Her nail dug into Caitlyn’s skin. ‘Or are you gonna deny this, too?’

Cheeks on fire and her core throbbing, Caitlyn steadied her breathing and examined the provocative woman a hair’s breadth away from her face.

‘Fine, I’ll admit it,’ she said. ‘Leaving Vi was a relief.’

Jinx’s eyes sparkled as she spoke. ‘And?’

‘And…’

Caitlyn met Jinx’s coaxing finger with her own. Stroked over the slope of bone and wrinkles of the joint, up to the knuckle, where finger transitioned into hand. Jinx’s hands were soft, not what Caitlyn expected of someone whose main pastime was fixing and dismantling whatever technology she could find. Vi was a builder by trade, and her hands were rough and calloused, but Jinx’s…

‘I’m definitely the better shot,’ Caitlyn teased, and bridged the tiny gap between them with a kiss before Jinx could respond with another witty comeback.

If she could’ve blamed it on the alcohol, she would have, but she wasn’t drunk enough for that. Caitlyn was in control, perfectly aware of what she was doing. Her reasoning was… well, she wasn’t listening much to reason. She listened to her gut, and her gut told her she wanted this. She wanted Jinx and all the mess that inevitably came with her.

Their kiss lingered a few seconds before Jinx pulled away. Her wet lips parted in a hazy grin, but her quizzical eyes and the downwards tug of her brow betrayed her confusion. Caitlyn watched, stupefied by her own actions, as Jinx’s mouth shifted to form speech, preparing to ask questions Caitlyn had no answers for.

‘Your round,’ Caitlyn blurted out. Neither of them had finished their current glassful, but it was all she could think to say.

Jinx stood and collected herself. Gave Caitlyn a rushed, hesitant smile, almost like she’d grown shy. Jinx was never shy. Never.

‘I need a cigarette,’ she said, and darted outside, leaving Caitlyn in disarray.

[colemansdimple]

Not an ordinary woman

By colemansdimple

Chapter 2

William woke early with the first lights of the day. He looked at his side and found the Queen of England gently snoring. He smiled. She really was adorable. With a small touch he fixed her hair behind a ear, revealing more of her delicate face. He couldn't bear to lose this woman but just a few hours before he almost had. Now she was entirely in his responsibility, so he needed to find a way to care for her while she was away from the palace. A hard task indeed, having to suffice for an entire staff of servants. He hoped his old body could take it. She frowned a little in her sleep. Adorable. He couldn't resist and planted a small kiss between her frowned eyebrows.

Carefully, he slipped out of the bed, got dressed and left for the nearest village. If they would remain there for a few days, they would need supplies. With his pocket money he bought the basic daily products and some food. It wouldn't last much but he prayed the assassins would be found soon. Either that or he would need to find a job in that village. He laughed a bit just by thinking about it.

Unfortunately his upbringing didn't provide him with the knowledge of common folk work, so he lacked the skills to do anything other than tending orchids and discussing bills. Say nothing of Victoria! By god it would be impossible for her to adapt. He suddenly remembered the events of last night and so he searched for simpler clothes for her and him. They would be perfect for disguising their identity. He forced his brain not to think of how peasant dresses would also be easier to remove from her body at the end of the day.

When he returned to the cottage, he found her still sleeping peacefully. It hurted him to have to disturb her, after two assassination attempts in one night, but they had much to discuss. He gently touched her on the arm and called until she finally opened her eyes. Victoria gave him a bright smile, pleased that the first face she saw was of her dear Lord M.

He left a dress for her and went downstairs to prepare them breakfast. After they ate, they started to discuss what to do next. William didn't know if the criminals had been caught, so he would need to return to London soon. But he was scared to leave her there alone in the house. So he suggested they needed to get acquainted with the local women, so they could look after Victoria when he was away. There was the problem of their identity. He could grow a beard as a disguise and most people didn't yet know the face of their new Queen, so all they needed to do was dress Victoria up in simpler attires and pretend she was a far away lady. What complicated the matter was the story of how they got there in the first place. William made the suggestion that, because of their age difference, they should play father and daughter, an idea that didn't amuse Victoria at all.

“That is most impractical Lord M! We look nothing alike! People will know we are lying!”

“That's a possibility Ma'am. So what do you suggest?”

“Well...I believe if we play any family roles...it wouldn't help us in the end. If we truly wish to keep me safe...and free ourselves from spying eyes...there's only one alternative. We need to be...husband and wife.”

There, she said it. It took all of her strength but the words came out. She blushed furiously, looking down. William swallowed hard. She was right, of course, he knew it since the beginning this was the best solution. They could have more privacy and she would be more protected against any male interest. He sighed heavily, agreeing with her. So they planned on their story: a newly married couple, she was a daughter of a noble family, he wasn't of their status, her family opposed their love and so they eloped together. With this they managed to hide their identities among the villagers. Specially between the women, who admired her braveness to fight for her true love.

They walked together in the town market, hand in hand, chatting with the locals. Playing their parts to perfection. It took a while for them to get used to call eachother by their first names. But that was an essential part of their lie, so they were Victoria and William even at home, to avoid any slips. Once in a week, William would go to London by horse, to know if it was safe for them to return. But nobody knew the assassins whereabouts. Meanwhile, Victoria was chaperoned by a group of local girls. In the beginning, they seemed a bit distant from her, but when she showed them she could write and read, they got very excited. Most of them were from other towns and had arranged marriages, so they missed their families and friends very much. Victoria began to help the girls write letters and William delivered them on his way to London.

In return, they taught her useful domestic things like mending her husband's old socks. Although this bore Victoria a bit she admired these women, so much like herself and yet so different. She felt grateful for them because she could finally be useful in their plan. The locals soon picked up on William's skills to solve small conflicts between them, specially on his knowledge of the law. So he became sort of a judge and, alongside Victoria, he studied the cases and presented a solution.

The community embraced them and they earned a few coins which helped them survive after his pocket money ended. He couldn't ask for royal money because he was afraid the spy at the palace would follow him and discover where Victoria was hiding. Little by little, the lady and her husband were feeling more at home there. To be really honest, Victoria didn't miss the palace life much, she missed the comfort, of course, but she knew the palace didn't have the one thing she truly needed, her Lord M, her William, always by her side. Everything they did, they did together, including the house chores. Still, she yearned to be even closer to him. One day, she decided to surprise him by washing all his clothes before he came back from the village.

A little further into the woods was located a small waterfall. She picked up his clothes in a basket and walked there. When she approached, however, she saw him standing there. She began her way down to greet him but stopped when she saw him taking off his shirt. Victoria froze, unsure of what to do. Her curiosity got the better of her, so she watched him disrobe until he was fully naked. He was going to bath by the waterfall. And here she was thinking he used their bathtub when she was out with the local women!

Scared of being caught, she hid behind a tree. Victoria had never seen a naked man before except in strange drawings from her old books. She found the real thing utterly fascinating. Her throat went dry as she marked his well shaped body, his firm muscles, his magnificent chest with those familiar hairs that went down, down...until they spread next to his... which word was it? Pole? Sword? Member? She bit her lip, trying to remember how the book named it. It appears to be pointing up, she noticed, and it was definitely big and long. She wondered why she never noticed it before. Why was it like this now?

He began to soap himself, the suds slowly running down his body. The air around her felt hotter and she struggled to breathe normally. That familiar itch between her legs becoming quite unbearable. She bit her lip to suppress a moan and held the basket tighter. Without warning his soap covered hand reached down for his member. He began to run it up and down, closing his eyes, biting his own lips.

Her eyes open wide with shock as she followed his every move. She should be scared, horrified. She waited for shame to come, but it didn't. Instead, she only thought of how it would feel in her own hands. Her lips couldn't take it anymore and she released them to pant heavily. He massaged himself in slow waves and moaned.

“Oh yes...oh yes...Victoria...my darling...I love it... touch me right there... right there...I need it...I need you...oh god you feel so good around my cock!”

Victoria couldn't believe what he was saying. His face seemed somewhat in pain and he called for her. Should she go there? She wanted to go there and she wanted to leave, but her feet wouldn't move in any direction. She was absolutely stuck. She could see some white liquid dripping from his member. His hand movements became faster and his other hand dropped lower to take hold of the heavy ballsack beneath as he moaned louder.

“Oh my girl...oh my sweet girl...don't stop...take me now...take me hard...I love it...I want you Victoria...oh I need you...make me come...I want to come for you...I want to come hard for you...ohh god yes...yess...like that...just like that...ohyesss...OHFUCK!!!”

Suddenly, he stilled, mouth open at the sky as shots of white liquid poured from his member. Victoria saw him walk on trembling legs back to the water. She began to pick the pieces of the puzzle. Now she knew why he bathed elsewhere, and most of all, she knew why he was so late at times. She stayed still, recovering her breath, and watched as the water dripped from his body. She had a sudden desire to join him there and drink all that water from his body into her mouth.

However, she didn't want to be discovered. What would he think of her spying on him like that? She would die of shame, surely! So she finally gathered her strength, took the basket and ran back to the house. On her haste she didn't notice that a piece of clothing was left behind on the ground.

[grandhotelabyss]

I almost sent another query/thought aloud about David Foster Wallace before sitting back and thinking about exactly why he pops up so much in my correspondence with you, despite the fact that I don’t think either of us particularly likes his work. The solution I came to was that for all his foibles, for all that his entire oeuvre could I think fairly be called a failure, he was the last major American pater-author who was really worth patriciding in the Bloomian sense. Everyone since has been either too neat or too insubstantial. Franzen strikes me as someone who could write like Dostoyevsky, but insists on writing like Dickens (not a diss on dickens, who in his way, has a claim to be the greatest English writer since Shakespeare, but a man has to know his strengths) and Saunders and far too many of that ilk strike me as thinking that the world could be perfect if only we would follow the dictums of the noble liberals who of course know best and joined our voices in establishing a crystal city in which nobody could even stick his tongue out at the world. I do love House of Leaves, but Danielewski i strikes me in some ineffable way as more like a talented comics writer than a real literary figure, you know? Anyway in essence I guess I’m saying that I think DFW had that inner fire, that worldsadness, and just wasn’t able to translate it into anything real. Which I think in a way was what eventually redeemed him for me, coming to understand that he was a profoundly tragic figure rather than just a smarmy male feminist who threw cofee tables at women. In any case that was a bit bloated but I’d love to know your thoughts!!

I buy that as a reading of DFW's life, almost rendering his life more than his work the object of influence-anxiety. As for the other Gen Xers, Franzen made his devil's bargain with the middlebrow, Saunders is Vonnegut reincarnated and almost as annoying, Danielewski is—as you imply—gifted and intelligent but not quite a novelist. Who else? Chabon had the raw talent but was undone by puerility. Never read Lethem. Never read BEE. Nobody mentions Eugenides anymore—eclipsed, apparently, by Sofia Coppola. Zadie Smith is probably a better essayist than novelist (I only read one novel, but it was really bad). Jennifer Egan? No. Will Donna Tartt's stature continue to grow? Will she stand alone in the ruins? Or is it just a truly lost generation? It's not unprecedented. In the whole expanse between the American Renaissance and High Modernism, between the 1850s and the 1920s, how many American novelists are really considered giants, people you absolutely have to read, people you'd mar your education by missing? Two: James and Twain, and Twain only for one book, itself deeply flawed. Who else? Stephen Crane, Theodore Dreiser, Edith Wharton—gifted, yes, but not epochal. In literary history, maybe particularly the literary history of our most un-literary nation, the peaks are high but the the troughs are long. Speaking for myself, I am content to wrestle Bloom-wise with the pretty much unambiguously great Silents, with Roth and Morrison and DeLillo and McCarthy.