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#realizin' au ask
realizinau · 2 months
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Does CatNap feel bonita?
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So true guys I do think Bubba should see this. Anyway rest in peace my man fly high 🙏
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ajgecko · 1 month
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@realizinau hehehe
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iidgm · 2 months
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I wanted to ask, is your OC siblings with CatNap or do they just see each other as such? Cause my OC and CatNap see each other the same way/are biologically related in the cartoon world so I just wanted to know cause it’d be fun if they met, if that’s okay with you.
ohoho GLAD YOU ASKED ANON
the sibling relationship thing is exclusive to the realizin' au.
WHY?
glad you asked²
roxie's normal lore is that they were made as a replacement for catnap AFTER his recall ! that's why they're purple too.
but this brings problems if they make bigger bodies of both of them. roxie was made as placeholder, yet kids will ask where they are. so they had to make both of them !
in the realizin' au, the company made catnap and roxie believe they're siblings, this all in the mindset it would be easier to add them into the smiling critters universe organically. in this au, roxie is catnap's younger sibling that comes from a distant land so they can reunite with their big brother.
hope this helps ! ( ≧∀≦)ノ
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Realizin’ Au Cato Catacombs Lore
@realizinau get ready for some lore. > :>
THIS JUST APPLIES TO THIS AU
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Cato got an easy life in the Realizin’ AU even if she doesn't remember who she was before, despise this not everything is as it seen Cato will bottle up her emotions if she needs to cry or scream, she will do it where nobody can hear or see her. 
She is still kind of a suck up with the scientist but is not afraid to use her gas against them if an employ goes missing there a possibility that Cato ‘deal’ with them, Cato take her role of Big Sister extreme serious something her love will get annoying even suffocating but she really cares about them and their well-being more that her own. 
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The Wisteria Gas 
The blue wisteria gas was created as a less potent Poppy gas made to for the children to feel relax during the medical exams and in large doses it works as anesthesia. 
How is this extract? Easy!
The experiment is carried out to a special chamber and scientists place three specialized needles on the subject's back that suck the gas until the necessary amount is obtained. Gas can be stored in tanks "unfortunately" no, it must always be fresh, as they say: "The best batch is always fresh from the source"
Staff Reports
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Cato and Candy Cat  
Experiment ████ and ████ have begun to form a strange bond. Observations implied a greater bond with ████ than with the Critters, and measurements were taken and ████'s mobility along with its larynx was eliminated. 
████ believes that ████ has abandoned them, the staff has returned the now motionless ████ to ████ as a 'gift', their bond has been successfully broken, ████ suspects nothing. 
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Overwork
Experiment ████ has been subjected to hard labor for the past few months as punishment for disobedience, ████ is handling it with difficulty, but they should get used to it in time since they are old enough to know the consequences of going against staff rules. 
After more weeks of observation and some bribery from the staff, ████ has started working with fewer challenges, but their attitude hasn't changed much. The superiors ask us to make ████ an example for other toys in disobedience. 
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Changes in behavior 
After ████'s isolation for more than a week, their behavior has changed drastically, superiors praise the change, this will be considered for the future. 
████'s first instinct was to run into 1222's arms for comfort, even if 1222 wasn't even close, we fear that ████ is creating another bond with the other experiments and not the other critters like they should, we are trying to bring 1188 closer and ████ without success. 
A month ago, ████ were missing, 1188 reported that they had "fallen" through a hole in the ground, when the other critters where asked they refused to answer. We suspect that 1188 did something to ████ but we have no evidence other than that the two experiments have a strange relationship. 
Experiment #1006 came to us this morning holding ████ in their claws, The doctor explains 1006 took care of ████ while missing in the darkest part of the factory. 
The higher ups have put Harley Sawyer in charge of the next experiments. 
Project re-introduction  
Experiment #1188  
Tag: Playcare.  
After the last incident within Home Sweet Home between Experiment 1188 and ████ and even having to involve Experiment #1006 we are to take drastic measures. 
Notes 
- ████ has been keep away from Home sweet Home, 1188 haven't shown any worry yet.  
- Three week have passed the critters are starting to ask updates about ████. 
- 1188 is showing sign of distress, the other have started to beg for 1188 to act and look for ████. 
- Anguish has filled 1188's mind, ████ will be return to Home sweet Home late night. 
Analysis We have found fear is the best way to make the experiments bond, as 1188 and ████ relation has better itself but of course this is not without its consequences, in the end Project re-introduction serve its purpose. 
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sleepyzz0h · 9 months
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Ok so unfortuned au is based of the sams world the time when sun removed eclipse from his body and then later found out that he had copies of himself. Well Moon didnt get all of them he missed one and golden Freddy found it and decided to punish him by creatin an entire world for his 'personal hell' so alot of bad and unlikely things as happened
The pizzaplex is deep in a forest under ground, is was never finished cuz of a sudden cancellation in the project so it's just a empty space with tones of rubble and overgrown stuff (the Plex is like 3 times the size of the original)
Megan (self interest) at the start of all this she was 15, she is stuck in a loop of whenever she dies it resets to July 16. Why is she in this loop? because of Lunar when she first appeared she was unconscious due to fallin a long distance, Lunar finding her body and takin interest in it decided to have an 'experiment' that bein to force her to consume the star (he ended up beakin her bottom jaw in two and tearing her throat open) why he do this? To see what would happen might be fun ya know? because of this she died but she woke up not realizin this just happen and then many more deaths happened and more resets. Finding out that lunar is the reason for her endless torture, being told that their there are many worlds besides hers (magic exists), that her only existence is for Eclipses hell and that he's is technically the original eclipse and other stuff
But one day she left and didn't come back and they thought that was the end but she came back after three years (she is now 18) turns out she left to study machanics, engineering and coding so she can try and help fix up everyone or to at least make their lives a little easier, she knows the struggle and pain they are all are goin through and just wanted to try and help despite all the ha and trauma they have given her
Unfortuned Eclipse is alot like his original self but has become a for more mellowed out but still is an ass but him and Megan has come to a somewhat workable relationship with eachother and are tryin to figure a away to remove the star within her
Unfortuned sun when calm is like sun but has the wants to kill and eat (like bloodmoon) and he happens to be the cause of most of Megan's deaths (the main bein bittin her head off) but besides from that he is okkkk but can become obsessive at times, not wantin her to leave the place,
Unfortuned Moon literally the only nice one out of them all (was the reason she was able to get so far with them) Moon isn't normally out so when Megan sees him she becomes visibly exited to see him lol
Unfortuned Lunar: two faced motherfucker daz it he is two faced he is very rarely out but when he is u know it's cuz he found somein he finds 'fun and interesting' just is a bad person, evil man
Can't think anymore brain hurts if ya got questions just ask *flips*
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thelastspeecher · 2 years
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Whoops I wrote more Firefighter AU with Stan and Angie interacting.
———————————————————————————————————–
             Stan walked through the front doors of the obviously brand-new Gravity Falls Fire Station.  He looked around.  The only person in the lobby was an intimidatingly large, muscled, and tattooed man.  Stan walked up to the man.
             “Do you know where I can find the chief?” he asked. The man turned around.
             “Why?” he rumbled.
             “I’m a new hire.”
             “Oh.”  The man pointed down a hallway to the left.  “Down there, first door on the right.”
             “Got it.”  Stan strode away, glad to be away from the rather threatening man.
             I get a weird vibe from him.  He came to the door the man had indicated.  It was already open.  A smile spread across Stan’s face at the sight of his new boss. Of course it’s her.
             “Shoulda figured you’d be the only one nuts enough to hire an ex-con like me,” he drawled.  The fire chief looked up.  She grinned broadly.
             “Stanley Pines,” Angie McGucket drawled right back. She gestured to the chair across from her desk.  “Take a seat.”
             “Sure thing, boss.”  Stan sat down.  “So, how’d you end up being the fire chief in a town like this?”
             “Funny thing, actually.”  Angie leaned back in her chair.  “Apparently there was some sort of lab-related accident what resulted in a fire.  Said fire got rather out of hand, and the city decided they couldn’t get by with just a volunteer fire department no more.  They wanted some professionals.”
             “You got hired to start up this town’s first fire department?” Stan asked.  Angie nodded. “That explains why the building is so new.  But why’d they get you, specifically?”
             “One of my older brothers works fer a researcher here.  Actually, he works fer the researcher responsible fer the fire I told ya ‘bout. He put in a good word fer me and that was that.”
             “Huh.”  Stan grinned. “I’m kinda into the idea of meeting one of your older brothers.”  Angie rolled her eyes.  Though they had been friends back in California, because Stan was incarcerated, he hadn’t been able to meet any of Angie’s siblings.  But he’d heard so many stories, he felt like he knew them already. “Which brother is it?”
             “Fiddleford.  And apparently the researcher he works fer ain’t too quick to clean up his act, so you’ll have plenty of opportunity to meet him durin’ the many calls we’ll no doubt get.”
             “Was he one of the ones involved in…”  Stan gestured to his right eye.  “Y’know?”  Angie touched the burn scar on her face.  It was the first thing Stan had noticed about her when they met, though in his defense, it was very distracting, stretching from her right eye to halfway down her neck.
             Kinda stinks it’s the first thing everyone’s always gonna notice first.  There are a lotta other things about Angie that should get attention.  Her caramel-colored hair was in an even shorter pixie cut than when Stan had last seen her, but her long, narrow nose and insanely muscled arms remained the same.  At least the accident didn’t mess with her eyes.  She’s got some damn pretty peepers.  Her bright blue eyes were misty as she thought back to the day she’d gotten her scar.
             “No,” Angie said softly.  “Fidds wasn’t part of that.  Harper was the one what set off the firework without realizin’ I was close by.”
             “Right.  The only one with a normal name,” Stan said.  Angie chuckled.  Stan smiled, glad to have lightened the mood.  “Y’know, you said you’d tell me what Angie was short for after I finished serving my time, but by the time I got out, you moved on.”
             “You want to know my full first name?” Angie asked. Stan nodded.  Angie sighed.  “Fine. Banjolina.”  Stan snorted.  “That’s it?”
             “Whattaya mean?”
             “I was expecting full belly laughs from ya, to be honest.”
             “Hey, I gotta show some respect to my boss.”
             “Darn tootin’, ya do,” Angie said with a nod. She glanced at her wristwatch.  “All right.  We should get down to business and actually start the on-boardin’ process.”
             “Before we do that…”
             “Hmm?”
             “The linebacker out in the lobby, what’s his deal?” Stan asked.  Angie raised an eyebrow.  “Is he an ex-con, too?”
             “Yup.”  Angie messed with some paperwork on her desk.  “Most of yer coworkers are.  I’m callin’ it my Second Chance program.  ‘Cause everyone deserves one of those.”  She cocked her head, smiling.  “But you knew I believed in that.  Otherwise, I would’ve never let ya come back from insultin’ me ‘n pointin’ out my scar the very first day we met.”
             “Yeah, I gotta learn to shut my mouth more.”
             “If that’s the case, we’ll discuss it at yer first performance review.”  Angie grabbed the ballpoint pen tucked behind her ear.  “Now, let’s get this introductory paperwork out of the way so’s I can show ya ‘round the place.”
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ziracona · 3 years
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[FGO AU -- The Kid (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ?)
“…Still nothing?” Her hands are perfectly still, muscles tensed and brow furrowed with all the concentration I ever seen on any mage, but, I think she can tell the answer before I give her a sympathetic smile. “AUGH,” she exclaims, flinging herself back unhappily into her seat, “Why! I’m trying my hardest! I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong!”
The mage folds over like a camp chair and deflates with unhappy sounds, sliding back against her own seat.
“Hey, come on now,” I try reassuringly, “It’s not so bad. I don’t know any magic at all, but pretty much all skills take more than an hour to come together.”
She lets out another long sigh and blows some hair out of her face, then straightens up a little. “Yeah, I know,” she admits, “But it’s not like I only tried today. Actually, I’ve…been trying to practice it like all week. So I’d be ready…”
Whoa.
I…guess I shouldn’t be surprised—I keep underestimating her, and her level of plannin’. She strikes me as impulsive, and she is—to the core—but, she’s smart too, and reasonable. Knows how it works, and thinks, just, goes for the long shots anyway. It’s a combination of traits I both like and can relate to.
“Still,” I offer, “You ain’t got a teacher, ‘n mage stuff’s complicated to learn.” She still looks incredibly down, but she nods as she stares vacantly through the bed past me. “…’Sides,” I add, “That medicine you gave me’s helpin’ a lot already—I’m feelin quite a bit better. And you don’t need to worry about havin’ to heal me, sooner or later. I’m getting’ a steady supply of mana from you, even if it’s slow, so my spirit core’s rebuildin’. It’s just gonna take it a little time. It won’t be like a real—human—bullet wound would be to heal.”
“Really?” she asks, perking up immediately.
“…Yeah.” I’m kinda surprised she didn’t know that. Girl seems to have a roulette-wheel of a library about my kind in her head. “At this pace, I should be back on my feet by mornin’.” Crap, it is morning. I forgot. I give the blinds a glance. “Or, --I mean a few hours.”
“That fast?” she asks, eyes widening.
I shrug, which hurts. Ow. Why…do I keep doing that? OW. DAMN it, Bill. When I’m not moving, I forget how much the entire left side of my chest is in agony when I do. “Not back to normal, but, on my feet,” I manage with my teeth clenched, trying not to let on how much that hurt.
She nods, thinking that over. “Can I do anything to help speed it up?”
I still can’t get used to that.
Kid’s so….fervent, and sincere. And nice to me. I’ve been awake for maybe an hour with her now, and I’m still not remotely used to it.
I refocus quick, and give her a smile. “Not more than you already have.”
“I could get you more food,” she suggests eagerly.
That’s probably true, actually, and I could use it. Just. “…Well, if you got some,” I stutter out. I am not used to feeling flustered, but I am realizing quick I am even less used to people bein nice to me. The odd heroic spirit maybe, but humans? Feels totally off now. Like I’ve snuck in somewhere I’m not supposed to be.
Happy, the kid snags her tray, but before she can leave I say, “—Actually though, uh, --before you go—I’m realizin spectacularly late here you still haven’t told me your name.”
She freezes with her hand on the tray and her face turns red. “CRAP, YOU’RE RIGHT!” the mage whips around to face me and gives a distressed bow. “I’m so sorry—I can’t believe—”
“—I-It’s fine, really,” I assure her, “Just you got me at a little bit of a disadvantage right now-”
“—Right! I-I’m sorry. I totally forgot! I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru,” she says, offering me a hand. It takes me a second to get she wants me to shake it, and I awkwardly do.
“Ritsuka Fujimaru,” I echo, “Well, you already know my name, but seein’ as I got several to pick from, Billy’s good. –Oh, uhm—you got a name you prefer me to call you?”
“Uh.” She gives me a glazed stare like someone looking at an oncoming train. “My…friends in high school called me ‘Gudako’ sometimes.”
I stare right back and forget to take back my hand from our handshake. Damn!! “…Your friends weren’t too nice, huh?” I offer sympathetically.
Her face turns crimson and she gives me a look saying she was praying and expecting that I wouldn’t know what that meant and is crying on the inside that I do, and I feel real bad for her that we spirits get such decent language translation built into us on summon. “No,” she offers in a tiny, beaten voice, staring past me.
It’s real hard not to grin, but I beat the impulse down internally with a shovel and give a sympathetic smile instead. “Well, I really just meant ‘do you prefer ‘Ritsuka’ or ‘Fujimaru’,’” She turns a deeper shade and I see her wish for death a little. “But if it’s any consolation, I would definitely not describe you as boring.”
The kid finally looks me in the eye again, a bit like a kicked dog, but she smiles back after a second and seems to bounce back with it. We both remember we’re still holding hands then and let go.
“Well, thank you,” she says like she means that, “I guess I’m not this week anyway.”
“Hardly,” I agree with a smile.
She returns it and takes the tray and goes back into the kitchenette I gotta assume is back there somewhere, and I get another second to think alone.
I’m doin’ better—a lot, I think. So far I think I’ve been up something close to an hour. All this is very strange to me, and it’s not been a great couple of months, but I’m feelin’ less and less dead by the minute, and the answer to ‘does pain medication work on Heroic Spirits’ seems to be a solid ‘yes’—which—considerin alcohol still does and I knew that, in retrospect shouldn’t be such a surprise to me. A glad one though, for sure. Still.
What now? That’s the real question.
Kid says she just wants to help, and at this point I mostly believe that. There’s usually a catch somewhere down the line, but maybe not. I do think at the least she thinks she means it right now. …And…and. I wish that was all I had to worry about. But, the less pain I feel, the clearer I’m starting to think, and either way, she’s right; I can’t just go back to the throne, or I’ll get resummoned. I’m stuck here like this, tied to her right now. But I can’t stay here indefinitely, and neither can she—actually, come to think of it, if they got any kind of security at that workshop, she might be in danger now, for breaking me out. Mages are…known for their ruthlessness. There could be people already on the way to deal with her. Okay. Better find that out, and fast.
Then, third and last on the list of things for me to figure out and deal with is those mages themselves. And that’s the big one. I’m not the only one of us that’s gonna happen to, if it ain’t already happened to more of us, and I can’t leave the place like that. If they have more spirits already, I need to break them out. And either way, I need to destroy that research and probably the people in charge, so they don’t just rebuild, or they absolutely will. And fast. Not sure this new master is just gonna let me go on a wild murder tear either, though, no matter my motives. Which is a problem…
She’s back then, though, so I’m out of time to focus.
“More okayu, plus some chocolate, if you’re feeling good enough,” she offers hopefully, setting her tray back down, “and I brought you some tea too.”
See that’s the problem, I think mournfully at the sight, I can’t do nothin’, but I can’t just betray her after this either, even if I got a good reason! No one’s ever been this good to me—I can’t just go lie to her and then pull a bunch of bloodshed on her dime—even if she don’t sign off on it, she’ll find out, and she’ll feel responsible, and she’s a kid, I’ll have done that to her! I don’t wanna give some kid who saved me a bunch of guilt trauma! After all this? …Hell. I… But I can’t do nothin’ –I can’t. I got friends in the Throne, and even if I didn’t, I ain’t about to allow that to keep on goin’. We don’t deserve that; it ain’t right. But if I tell her what I got in mind, she might use a command spell and bind me, so. …But still. I can’t… I can’t…do either, but. …Maybe I could convince her to absolve the contract, and get it done after that and before I vanish, just, once I got more strength? I got my Independent Action that could keep me goin’ for a little—even Gunner, I got a lot of my Archer traits, so, once I’m healed, it might be enough to get- …No. Ain’t enough. She’d still see what happened, and know the only reason I got it done was her. Same problem as before. Shit. Shit, this sucks… I’ll be doing somethin terrible no matter what, then…
And I know myself. And that the thing I’m eventually gonna do is not leave that place standin’ with people like me trapped dyin’ inside it. As much regret and guilt as that’s gonna buy me too…
“What?”
I glance up, and she’s got her head cocked. I gotta stop bein’ an open book here. Let me think…
“About Ur-shanabi,” I start hesitantly, “Master, did—”
Her expression changes drastically to distress and she immediately cuts me off. “—Oh, please don’t call me that.”
I forgot I even said it, so it takes me a second to get what she means. “’Master’?”
“Please?” she says again, “I know you’re supposed to, and I’m supposed to call you my servant, but I really hate that.”
Everything else I’ve been thinkin’ about just kinda shuts off and I stare at her, blink. … Y…yeah, me too. Always…
“You’re all heroes, or famous artists, or explorers, or fighters, and we’re just mages. –I mean, even if it was different, I’m pretty sure I’d still hate it,” she continues with a sigh, somewhere deep in thought in her own head, but she comes back and meets my gaze, “But please don’t. I don’t want you to have to think of me that way either. I guess I don’t know how this all usually works in a lot of detail, and I know you’re stuck bound to me right now, but I don’t want you to worry I’m gonna try to make you obey me. I won’t! That’s not why I helped you!” She looks so intense. Leaned forward, one palm on the bed, look on her face that makes me believe she means it. “I want you to know I’m never gonna do that; I mean it. I won’t ever use a command spell on you to make you do something you don’t want to do, I promise.”
Her eyes are amber and bright like coals and full of intent. I find it impossible to look away.
“Not ever. I don’t want to try to use you or control you; I. …I’m…really just trying to help…” She finishes, pulling back once she’s made her statement and looking just a little embarrassed only now it’s done.
“…Well, good,” I finally find my voice, “Because I’ve never been much for the Master-Servant thing anyway. Can’t ever seem to stick to it, and it tends to cause problems down the road.”
She smiles back, happy with my answer and that I’ve accepted her proposal.
Some kind of a mage... This is…almost too much to really even understand right now, but I think she…meant it. She thinks she did. I’m beginin to think calling her a mage at all was plain off. She’s somethin’ else. I always think the kid’s thrown me for about as many loops as she can, and then I get knocked down again, and it’s been less than a day. Don’t bode well and really does for me at the same time.
“’Boss’ then?” I suggest, but I can instantly sense her dislike.
“’Partner?’” she counters hopefully.
That does have a much better ring to it, I gotta say. “Partner,” I concede with a wink, “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”
Never had a master that wanted me to un-know my place before.
“Well, you could also call me ‘Ritsuka’,” she says hopefully and then immediately becomes embarrassed. “Uhm,” she hurries, glancing away when I grin at her, “A-And you’re sure you prefer ‘Billy’? Not Henry?”
Lord it’s been a while since anyone called me that. Sends me a long, long way back. And not really in a good way. I appreciate the thought though.
“No,” I reply.
She seems surprised a little, but I can tell she’s not gonna press me, so, there’s really no reason to say this, but for some reason I want to tell her.
“That’s my middle name, actually,” I say.
“Huh?” says the girl.
“Henry,” I clarify, “Middle name. It’s William Henry McCarty, actually.”
Her brow furrows. “…But I thought…?”
“Step-dad had the same name, and it was too many for one household, so mine got shortened,” I gloss over, “Took it back when I picked my own name on the lamb.”
“So. …You outlaw-named yourself … ‘Your Name The Hot One’?”
It’s my turn to suffer nickname shame, though I’m not too ashamed of that, because it’s pretty funny. Does suckerpunch me a little to get called on it more than 100 years later.
“…I-I don’t know…” I answer automatically before thinking of what to say, “Maybe. …yeah.”
She almost chokes on a laugh. I grin.
“I mean, if you got the opportunity—wouldn’t you? I’m just sayin,” I say casually, past the slight amount of embarrassment I felt and pretty proud of myself again. It was a slick name.
“It’s got flair,” she says approvingly.
“Thank you,” I reply.
“So, what were you gonna ask—before I interrupted you?” she asks, picking up the cup of tea and offering it to me. I take it, feeling immense guilt as our hands touch for a second and I’m stuck thinkin about all the things she’s done for me for no reason other than bein’ kind, and the fact I’m definitely going to turn on that and her, and how awful that is.
I…wonder if it would make things some kind of right if I came back and let her kill me after? No. No, that’d make it worse. Mage or not, I don’t think this kid’s ever hurt anyone. I don’t know what I can do to soften taking this kind of kindness and drawing blood with it, but…
“Ur-shanabi,” I say quietly, working hard to pass off my internal distress as distraction as I hold the little clay cup and feel the warmth. It smells good. I know I have to drink it, and I’ll feel physically better, but everything nice I accept is piling on guilt.
…I wish. I wish I had a choice here, but I can’t let them keep this goin’. I wish I knew a way to make that right, or at least explain to you I’m sorry. And everything she says and does just makes this worse! I don’t want to hurt her. I really don’t. In any other situation, I wouldn’t, but I have to, and I hate it. I don’t want to betray her. I don’t want to make her regret showing me kindness. I don’t want her to feel the way it feels to not do something cold but safe, and then get shot for it.
Hot water slips over the top of my hand and I jerk back and just spill more of the tea, sucking in a sharp breath at the unexpected pain.
“Whoa! –Are you okay?” she asks worriedly, passing me a napkin and leaning over to catch onto my hand and help steady the cup and what’s left inside it, “What happened? Are you feeling worse again?”
Hell! My hands are shaking and I can’t quite get them to stop. Calm down. You don’t gotta do anything right now. You can feel bad later. Just think a second.
“Nah—s-sorry,” I manage, trying to smile at her and not quite sure how well I do, “I uh—I guess I’m just still a little weaker than I thought. I’m fine now.”
“Here,” she says, brow all scrunched up in concern, taking back the tea and passing me the ice pack to set on my hand.
I hate this. I’m terrible. It ain’t fair—it ain’t wrong for me to go back, I gotta, but. I hate this. I hate it.
I take the pack and try to look grateful. “Thanks.”
“Sorry about your hand,” she says.
I wave it off. “It’s already done hurting.”
“…” She waits a second, leaned a little forward expectantly, and I forget what for until she prompts me again. “What? About Ur-shanabi?”
“Oh,” I say. Right. “I was gonna ask how much you know about their operation. –How you even ended up in the right place at all.”
“Oh,” she says, and she loses some color.
Huh?
“Uhm,” she glances away, then back, and seems more herself, but I’m not sure I buy it this time. I don’t think she’s lyin’, per-se, but there’s something else she’s not saying. “Well. I’m from a mage family, but, not a ‘mage’ family—we know about magic, I did—growing up. But, I didn’t ever get any formal training, or anything. So I guess it was more like mage-adjacent in a lot of ways. There was this test I heard about from a friend—a research project on magical circuits, and I was curious.” She glances down at her legs again, but this time she looks far away and almost happy, like she’s revisiting a better moment in her head. “I’d always been curious about myself and magic, and I was excited, because if you participated in the research project, you got to know stuff they found out about your magical circuits—stuff you might be good at.” She glances up at me and gives me an embarrassed smile. “It sounded really cool. I had wanted to know for so long, and I thought—I still think—it would be really great to learn how to do more magic. So, I went.”
The girl—nope—Ritsuka, thinks for a second, then holds out her hand and looks at it. “Apparently I’ve got really unusual circuits.”
“Unusual?” I echo, kind of intrigued. I know jack-all about magic, but I am curious.
She glances over and nods. “Yeah. I thought I did really badly in the study, because I didn’t know any real spells at all, and everyone else did. They pulled me aside after and I thought they were just going to kick me out before we even got results, but, apparently my circuits were so unusual they wanted to do a case study. I’ve got ‘Almost no practical control or ability to utilize them, but possess a nearly inhuman amount of mana.’”
“Really?” I ask. I can’t feel that at all. I’m getting enough to keep me sustained, sure, but that’s it.
“I know, right?” she agrees, nodding and leaning forward, “That’s what I said! But apparently I do. They asked me if I’d come in to do more studies, and I said yes, because I was also curious. And that was Ur-shanabi. I’ve been going there for a while now,” she adds, then stops, gives me a guilty look, then looks away and keeps going in an almost dejected tone. “Uh. But I worked, or, was allowed in, I guess, a totally different part of the building. You were up on the 12th floor. I was on the 4th, R&D testing labs.”
“Oh,” I say, very confused by this reaction from her, and a little concerned by it too if I’m honest, “What brought you up to the 12th?”
“The mage I met with the most was named Nakata. He worked in a lot of projects more important than mine too. I think that was maybe the only time I was ever on the 12th floor,” she answers, “That day, I showed up and waited for a couple hours, and he never showed up in R&D. There were other people who wanted to use the room we usually used for another test, so I asked if I should go home, and the secretary said yes, but I bumped into Dr. Nakata in the elevator on my way out. He said he’d been swamped by a last-minute schedule change, and still wanted to do our test, but he’d be maybe another hour, and that I should just wait for him by his office. Which, is on the 12th floor. I was just standing there, and this big group of mages went into a large room at the end of the hall, so I was curious and watched them, and.” She shrugs.
Yeah, I can fill in the rest.
“I guess you don’t know a lot about what they were doing with me, then,” I say, a little disappointed. Any new information would have been useful. I don’t know that I expected another answer, though.
“…Actually, yes,” says Ritsuka, looking uncomfortable. I glance at her in surprise and she looks flustered and guilty and glances away again. “Uhm. After I saw you, I asked Dr. Nakata what was going on up here, and who you were.”
You coulda been killed, I think in a frozen kind of horror. What were you thinking?
“He told me,” she says simply, “You were a heroic spirit, and they were doing tests on things you could do using them. He even told me what the test was.”
I don’t know what to think or how to feel about that, so I just listen. I wonder why on earth he’d tell her?
She glances up and holds my gaze this time, an undercurrent of almost…incensed feeling somewhere deep in her eyes. “He said they had found a way to keep a summoned spirit away from the throne for a long time at low mana cost, and instead use the connection to their Saint Graph and essence as a fixed unit outside of time now, to generate a potentially limitless source of energy. To…make a heroic spirit into a battery.” I can tell while the rest of it was her echoing, the last statement is her own, and she’s bitter. “I asked how, and he told me,” she continues, “He said you had to trap one right between life and death, so they would give as little presence as possible to anything looking, and wouldn’t find a way to escape or retaliate on their own, but couldn’t actually vanish either. ‘An art and a science, to find the perfect thread to stop at, and keep them in place on the edge of death.’ Stuck. In pain, and too weak to fight back, but here.”
She lets out a long sigh and glances at me and says, “I said that sounded awful, and what about the spirits, and he told me a lot of stuff about heroic spirits being familiars that are meant to serve mankind in whatever way they’re summoned for, no matter how painful, and aren’t people anymore and that’s their intended use.”
Ow. I mean, it’s not new; I hear this from mages all the time, but it’s never fun to hear one say it right to your face. Fuckin mages…
“But, I think he could tell I didn’t like it, even though I was a little scared by then and trying not to seem as much like it,” she continues, glancing down at her hands, “And he told me ‘Don’t trouble yourself. You’re new to this, but it’s a normal part of being a mage. If it helps you rest easier, the one we summoned was Billy the Kid, an outlaw and a murderer from the old American west,’ a-and. That…” her voice gets quieter, like suddenly she thinks maybe she shouldn’t have said any of this, “…I could think of it as divine punishment, in a way. And not have to feel bad.”
That. It really shouldn’t bother me to hear. People always act like that to me. Even when I was alive. I think about being sent to hang for a murder I didn’t commit for a moment. I had so many murders on my record by the end of it, but I’ve never pulled a trigger that wasn’t in self-defense or a last resort. But it’s never mattered. You are what people make of you, in the public eye, and in history I guess, no matter what the truth is. And eventually that tends to push you to an ending written about the person you’re described as. I never thought of any of the fights I was in as murder. I guess it’s been a long time since I could even pretend that mattered to anyone but me, though.
…I still hate it.
It hurts. Not so much people sayin’ that—don’t care too much what people think; I know who I am. But, the fact that it just straight up don’t matter what’s true, at all. Even a little… I could have lived a completely different life and not been remembered as any worse at all.
“He thought I’d agree with that.” Her voice is angry. I glance back up, train of thought broken, and Ritsuka looks as mad as she sounded, somewhere else in her head too. It’s a quiet, deep anger. “I didn’t.”
There’s something about how she looks, like she’s an embodiment of what she’s saying, and again it becomes hard to look away if I’d wanted.
“He was wrong. I guess there are some people who deserve to die,” she continues, “I’ve thought about that. About if I think if…if someone killed my family or something, I’d want them to have to die too for it. If I think that’s fair, and right. But. …Even if some people probably deserve to die, nobody deserves to be just kept in pain forever. Even the worst people. I don’t know how anyone could think after more than a day anybody at all could possibly know it’s right to go on hurting someone. Not even the worst person.” She looks distressed by that for a moment, then glances back at me and smiles a little. “I decided that, and that I was going to try to do something, and then I went home and looked you up, and you didn’t even sound that bad.” Her eyes go big immediately and she looks mortified. “—Wait—That sounded bad! I’m sorry! I-I said that wrong. I—I meant—I didn’t—I just mean—he’d said—uh—a-and you didn’t sound like—it seemed like you weren’t so—like stuff went wrong for you more than you were a bad person actually, a-and you didn’t seem like you were really a murderer—"
The poor kid is sweating buckets now. I think she thinks she’ll have offended me sayin’ that, but it’s very much the opposite.
“—I should stop talking. I’m sorry. I-I just—uhm. You were different sounding than I thought before I looked you up is the only thing I was trying to say—I’m so sorry I don’t know why I said any of it at all!” She gives up and hunches over apologetically in shame.
“…I ain’t mad,” I try to assure her after a second.
Ritsuka glances up between her bangs and gives me a sorrowful, worried look.
“…I…think I actually appreciate that,” I continue after a second, figuring it out as I go and then giving her a smile, “I ain’t sure what you read about me, or how true it was, but I’ll take what goodwill I can get.” She raises her head a little more, but still looks worried, so I keep going. “Ain’t offended me—I get it. You were already thinkin of doin’ something dangerous. Gotta know what you’re in for best you can, with a heroic spirit. Only smart to try’n be prepared.”
Looking a little better, she cautiously un-hunches. “Yeah. …I really didn’t mean to say it how I did, though. I don’t think you’re bad! I mean, I know I don’t know you, but I-”
I hold up a hand. I feel like after all this, I really oughta let her off the hook.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say with a sure smile, “You don’t gotta explain yourself, or tell me what you thought, or what you think now. I don’t have to know. I’m aware you’re takin’ a risk on me, especially with my kind of record, and I appreciate it. Probably ain’t easy for you.”
Shit, haven’t thought about that before, but it’s true. Kid might have command seals, but I’m quick, and she’s not experienced. Pretty much any heroic spirit she summoned that wanted to could kill her easy. She didn’t think to use one immediately to order me to not. I’ve been so strung out and nervous of her, I haven’t thought for a second about the fact she’s probably scared of me.
“…Uhm. In light of that, Ma-  Partner,” I correct, “I’d like to set a few things straight for you, if you don’t mind?”
She seems to recover a little, straightens up and gives me a very serious nod.
“If you’re worried about me, don’t be. Whatever you heard, truth is I never killed anybody except when it was them or me, or I was defendin’ someone else. I never was a fan of it, either. Only crimes I ever set out to commit were thefts, mostly outa need,” I say, “Where I grew up, once you had a reputation, that was all you had left. I stole food when I was on my own at sixteen, and there weren’t no turning back after that. ‘Bout that simple.”
The gal’s listening attentively, head cocked. Takin this serious. And I’m still thinkin over how this has probably been for her. Angering a group of powerful mages is scary enough. Now she’s contracted to an outlaw spirit, and she’s apparently a mage who’s got no real practice usin spells. She’s basically just a civilian. She’s all alone here too, and somethin like sixteen or seventeen, and she’s got no real idea what I’m gonna be like, or want, or do. I’m not in great shape, but I’m still a heroic spirit, and a lot more powerful than her, and I’ve killed people. That’s a pretty good reason to be scared. I don’t want her to be, though. At all.
“I know all you got’s my word on this,” I say, working hard to convey my sincerity, “But it is the truth. More importantly, you saved my life, and I owe you. I really am grateful. I got no plans to try and hurt you; I promise—you got nothing to worry about.”
FUCK. What I’ve just said hits me like a ton of bricks. Fuck, I should’ve phrased that differently!—no no no—damn it damn it; I should have thought about it first! Hell! I am gonna hurt her! Probably. Not physically, which is what I was thinkin’ about when I said that, and meant, but it’s not technically what I said, shit shit shit, I just promised her something I’m gonna break—oh great, and I must have some amount of that showin’ on my face because she actually does look nervous now. I lied and I actually made her more afraid of me. Great job! Damn it damn it damn it.
“I’m really not the kind of person to do that,” I add quickly, trying hard to save it. This is bad this is bad. “I wouldn’t have a reason to anyway, but you definitely don’t gotta worry about me—” Everything I am thinking to say is wrong. All of it. ‘turning on you’ – a lie. ‘repaying that by making you sorry’ – a bigger lie. Shit. And I feel like it now too, more than before. I’m the worst—I’m terrible. I know I don’t have an alternative, and I have to go back, but this is awful, and I feel very appropriate amounts of guilt about it. I deserve this. “attacking you or something,” I go with, even though it sounds weird in my ears, because I don’t want to outright lie again, and even this much is making me feel miserable. “after you’ve been good to me.”
I hate this. I hate myself. Maybe. …Maybe there’s another way, maybe I can… Can…
She smiles for a moment, happy I said that I think, then slowly looks worried. “You look worried.”
Oh. I guess I’m the one who looks worried.
I…
I can’t. There’s nothing I can do to work this out better than it’s gonna be. I just. …I just…
…Fuck it.
“I am,” I say honestly, turning my head to look at her. She’s so sincere, and so worried. She’s been so good to me. I just. … I just… “I’m worried about Ur-shanabi,” I say, so sure I’m going to regret this in seconds, but doing it anyway because of some deep inherent flaw in who I am, “I’m okay right now, but I figure with me gone, they’ll just take another one of us and do the same thing. If they haven’t already.”
I watch slow horror creep over her face as that clicks. “…I. Would…? Oh. They will. And it’ll be my fault.” she says, glazed-over expression on her face.
What? “No!” I say immediately, “That it’s someone else and not me? It ain’t your fault. It’s theirs—they’re the only ones doin’ it, aren’t they?”
She comes back to herself a little and looks at me, but her face is still drained of color.
“It won’t be your fault,” I say again, “That’s ridiculous, and you know it. …They will keep doin’ it, though. Probably to more and more of us, if they can. Probably they’ll sell the idea to other mages too.” I hesitate, give myself one last solid chance to reconsider this, and don’t. Just pray for luck. I’ve gotten a lot of it the last 24 hours—maybe I have a pinch left. “…Unless I find a way to go back and stop them pretty fast. It’s that, or this is gonna keep happening to us. And it’s only gonna get worse. …I got friends, in the throne. …I don’t want that to happen to any of them. Even for the ones I don’t know, even the ones I don’t like, it’s like you said: nobody deserves that. So. I think. …I gotta go back.”
Her eyes are huge and I can see her running what this means, trying to process it all. I’m praying she’ll agree with me, but it’s such a long shot to get from an idealistic teen.
“Please!” I try, going for the best pitch I can before she decides to force me not to, “I-I know you’ve met those people, and I’m askin’ a lot, but at least think about it. You helped me because you knew what they were doing was wrong—I know it too, and I’m the only one in a position to shut it down. I can’t do nothing, and this is the only way to end it. You don’t know what it’s like. We-“ I’m getting to desperate, and I know it, but I hold up a hand and plow on because so long as I keep talking, she isn’t, and I don’t know what else to try. “—Our bodies are pretty close to what they were before; we feel pain the same, we can just survive more of it. I-I’m lucky, I got shot—I’ve known spirits who were bled to death, or hung, or burned, or decapitated—you can’t imagine what it would be like to be stuck chained down forever with your head just not quite severed all the way enough to kill you. I know it’s not your fight, and it’s not fair for me to ask this, but I have to try and stop them. And I—can’t. Without an anchor. Please...”
Maybe this won’t be a terrible idea. Maybe it won’t backfire on me immediately. Maybe she’ll let me go. Maybe she’ll understand. Maybe I won’t have to—
For a moment, she stares at me, motionless. Then her eyes well up.
Damn it. Damn it; I knew! I knew she’d feel like she had to stop me, and I showed her my hand because I felt bad, and now promise or no, she—
“I’m so sorry…” she whispers, and I’m fully expecting the threat of a command spell to follow that, but instead she tucks her knees up to her chest and folds over into a little ball and starts crying again.
I don’t…rightly know what to do about that, so for a second I just stare at her like an idiot.
“I know it was bad,” I hear muffled and choked up from the little bundle she’s made herself into, “I. I don’t—don’t know how awful it was, I know, but I know it was—I know it was so bad. And it’s my fault it was you.”
What?
“You have to go back?” she asks pleadingly, looking up at me for a second from over her knees, like she’s asking me if I gotta go die in a war, “What if they catch you and put you back where you were? O-or kill you and just summon you into a trap again? I’ll never get back in if—”
“Wait, what do you mean ‘your fault’?” I ask, still stuck on that and very lost again. So much so she’s halfway through her next paragraph before I even clock that me potentially getting trapped again is the only thing she has immediately objected to.
Ritsuka looks at me with her big, tearful eyes, then looks defeatedly at her knees. “…I. One day, several months ago, I showed up for a research day and Doctor Nakata had these boxes on the table, and a bunch of papers.” The kid looks and sounds completely miserable, and exhausted.  “I didn’t know what any of it was, so I asked him. He said it was for another project, and to just wait a few minutes while he packed it up. …And then he changed his mind, and said actually, would I come over? He told me they were deciding between a few candidates for a project, and at this point it didn’t really matter which one they started with, and would I like to pick one. I asked what the project was, and he said it was a secret. But, it looked so important, and cool, and I wanted to be involved, so I said yes please, and I went up and picked. I didn’t know what they were.”
Ritsuka grimaces and looks sadder, rests her chin on her knees and exhales slowly. “No, I think I did. I just didn’t know what they were for. I could sense they were all magical, and they were all odd, and specific. An old little clay vase. A shuriken. An earring. A coin. A letter. And a photograph.”
I stare. She makes herself look up at me, and I can see how sorry she feels. “I picked the photograph.”
Ah.
“He even told me later,” she adds quietly, all the spunk gone, “That I picked you. When I asked, after seeing—”
“Good.”
She looks up quickly, surprised.
“I appreciate you feelin’ bad for me,” I continue sympathetically, “But it ain’t your fault, what happened to me. You didn’t know what was goin’ on, and if it hadn’t been me, it’d have just been someone else. Luck of the draw; just how life happens. On top of that, they’d have gone after every one of us on that list eventually, and if I hadn’t been here and now with you, I might not have ever gotten out.” It’s true, and I give her a smile. “Also, this whole thing is a pretty big relief.”
“A relief?” she echoes, confused.
I nod. “You get summoned with a catalyst, ain’t much you can do but show up, like it or not, but I wanted to answer the call when I got it. Up till now I thought my sixth sense had plain stopped workin’ or something. I guess it was actually just because I thought I was answerin’ your call.”
She looks confused for a moment, then smiles slowly. “…Really?”
I give a little head tilt. “Best I can guess.” I honestly don’t know if a summon can work that way at all, but I’d like to think so, and why not? Makes us both feel better.
I meet her gaze and try and get her to smile back, and this time it works.
“I really am sorry,” she says, “even if you’re not mad.”
“Well thank you,” I say, accepting the apology, “But consider it behind us.”
Something she said earlier that I had running in the back of my head comes through hard, and I feel the bottom of my stomach drop out.
“…You said a coin?” I ask, really, really, really hoping my gut feeling is wrong for once.
She nods, catching my expression and getting sympathetically worried along with me.
“…Was it kinda silver, with a face on one side, and a short cross and some words on the back?” I ask.
“Uh. I only saw one side, but it did have a face,” she says nervously.
“Was there a scratch across it? Deep? Diagonal on the face?”
“Yeah,” she says, surprised, “How did you know? What is it?”
Oh no. Oh shit that’s bad. Okay. Okay, this is gonna be okay. I can figure this out. He might not even be here yet, and I can snag the coin and he’ll be fine. All this means for sure is that I have to figure this out, more than before now.
“A friend,” I answer when I remember I need to, “—a catalyst to summon one, I mean.”
“Oh,” she says in a voice like I feel.
For a moment, we look at each other in silence. I got no idea what she’s thinking, but my mind’s far away and frantic, trying to piece together some kind of plan.
“…What do we do?” she asks.
“Huh?”
“You said you gotta go back in,” says Ritsuka as I refocus on her, and I can see she’s come to some kind of decision, “And need me to help, and now you know they’re gonna hurt your friend unless we can stop them. I’ll help you, but I don’t know how. How do we go back and stop them?”
I gape.
“…You…want to help me?”
She gives a nod, looking confused that I’d ask her.
“You-? I mean—it might. …I might have to…shoot someone,” I say. Wow. Great job Billy you sure did sugar coat that and make it sound real fine. Nicely done.
Her eyes widen, and she glances away, hesitates. Then says slowly, “…But if we don’t, they’ll keep torturing heroic spirits for energy.” Working through it herself.
“That’s about it,” I agree sympathetically. It…can’t be easy for her. She’s a civilian, a kid. And she seems like a bleedin’ heart who doesn’t want to hurt anyone. She’s already been a lot more understanding towards my perspective than I expected.
“…So it’ll be bad either way,” she says finally, looking back and meeting my gaze.
I’m kind of taken aback that she’s put it into almost the same words I did to myself, but I nod.
“…That sucks,” she says to herself sadly.
“Yeah,” I agree quietly, looking at my own knees and thinking it over.
“…Is there a way to do it without killing anyone?” she asks after a second, hopeful.
Probably not. Even if I destroyed the whole building, there’s the people in charge who know how to do it, and can and will rebuild. I think she can see that on my face, because her expression falls.
“I…don’t know for sure,” I answer, “But. I think…probably not. … They’d rebuild. –Not all of them—not all of them would know how, but, at least a few will.”
She stares off at nothing, thinking.
I feel worse, somehow. Thought I was doing the nicer thing, basically giving her a chance to stop me, and risking my success. But. Now I think maybe I’ve accidentally been more heartless.
She shouldn’t have to carry a choice like this. Life ain’t fair, and I know that, but I’m finding I like being on the giving end of that even less than the receiving.
“…How old are you?”
The mage turns and looks at me, surprised, and flushes a little. “…I. S-seventeen?”
“Yeah?” I ask.
She nods.
Seventeen. She’s about the age I was when my life started really fallin apart. I hate being a part of that for someone else. I don’t want to.
“You don’t have to have anything to do with it,” I offer quietly, “You could dissolve our contract. Fifty-fifty chance I get the job done before I vanish, fifty—”
“—No!” she cuts in adamantly before I’m even halfway through my pitch, “No way! You’d get trapped there again! That’d be even worse! I made a deal with you to protect you if you trusted me! I’m not just gonna abandon you now.”
I blink. Tilt my head, taken aback by her fervor.
Did you? Is that what the contract was to her? I try to recall her words. ‘My soul becomes your will; your spirit becomes my destiny.’ Right, she said that wrong. But what I want to remember is before that. I try hard. “Please—If you die, they’ll summon you back! I-I can ground you! I can keep you here!” I can’t see much in the image in my head, but I can hear it, I can feel it—the pain and her hand on mine.
…I guess she did.
I don’t know how to respond to that. Look down at my own hand, playing it again in my head.
The kid is thinking still, her brow furrowed with worry. Taps the edge of the little bedside table agitatedly with a finger. “…So. Either we find a way to destroy their research, and get any other spirits they have out, and…maybe fight some of the people in charge,” she says finally, “…or they keep on doing this to you all, forever. There’s no other way things can go? You’re sure?”
I’ve already thought about it, but she’s so sincere and sad I think again, and then nod.
She sees that and glances at her hands and then back at me. “Then. …I guess we have to go back and stop them. You’re right.”
I stare at her. A-are you serious? Even as such a bleeding heart, you really—?
“But nobody gets hurt that doesn’t have to, okay?” she adds fervently, “And. I-I want to try to talk to the people in charge first! I know they won’t change their minds and it’s probably a waste, but.”
“—We can try,” I agree readily, overcome with relief, “Are you sure, though? You don’t have to stay contracted to me, and you sure as hell don’t have to come. You—you’ve already taken a lot of risks for me, big ones, and I know I’m basically returnin that favor by involving you in bloodshed. I don’t want to do that.”
It’s her turn to look surprised, and she blinks and tilts her head right back at me, and for some reason it makes me feel a whole lot better and a whole lot worse at the same time. But also more like I understand her.
“You’re not doing anything to me,” she says simply, “They’re the ones doing something that has to be stopped. It’s not your fault you’re the one who knows about it.”
I…guess that’s true. Feel like I’m getting my own words thrown back at me; maybe I am.
“It sucks,” she adds, “And I’m scared. I don’t want to hurt anybody, or get anyone else hurt. But. Mom and Dad always said it’s just as bad to stand by and let somebody be hurt as it is to hurt them yourself, if you could have done something about it. So. I want to help you, and I will.”
“You’re sure?” I ask again, “It’s…it’s a whole lot, and it ain’t gonna be easy, or safe, and you’re—” If I say ‘a kid’ I think she’s gonna get offended because I would have when I was seventeen. “Young. It shouldn’t be on you to fix.”
“Well, you’re young too,” she says.
Ow. I’m twenty-one. I know I’m short, but at least I’m an adult.
“And you’re mostly dead, so let’s just agree it’s unfair for both of us, but we’re partners, and someone has to do it, and we’re here, so that’s us,” she says very diplomatically.
I give up and sigh, then offer her a hand. “If you’re sure, Partner.”
She takes my hand and shakes it.
“So, what can I do?” she asks as she lets go.
“Well, anything you know about the building’s layout’ll help, and what defenses they might have. Mostly, I just need to get back to fighting shape,” I answer.
She nods. “Food, then?”
I give in again and smile. “Thanks.”
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violetwolfraven · 3 years
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Hey @the-cowbi I wrote this as a Christmas present for you! I know it doesn’t line up with your existing timeline/story so just think of it as an AU! I just thought the idea was fun and you might like it so if you don’t like it just ignore this! Happy Holidays!
Tw: idk general angst? it has a happy ending I swear
Race wasn’t smiling when he came over the bridge, which was Spot’s first sign that something was wrong.
The second sign was how he didn’t sell all his papers that day, didn’t bet on anything, and apparently didn’t meet Joey for their weekly card game over lunch, which meant that something was very wrong, and Spot needed to find out what it was.
He didn’t waste any time after selling hours ended, dragging Race into an empty alley not far from Sheepshead.
“Spot, I’m not in the mood for—“
Spot took his hands off him, putting them up in surrender, “That’s not what I—what’s wrong, Racer?”
“What? Who says somethin’s—“
“Don’t deny it, Race. I know ya too well.”
Race looked like he was going to deny it anyway, for a second, but then his shoulders slumped as he sat down heavily on a crate.
When Spot sat next to him, Race’s head dropped onto his shoulder, and Spot could feel that he was shaking.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.
“Remember how I told ya that my mom died when I was really little?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, what I never said was how Dad remarried a little afterwards,” Race took a shaky breath, “And I think he mighta been seein’ that woman even while Mama was alive, cause she already had a kid then and that kid looked a lot like me, and—“
“Race, breathe,” Spot squeezed his hand, trying to get him to calm down, “Breathe. There ain’t no fire. Are ya tryin’ to tell me you’s got a brother or sister?”
“A sister,” Race clarified, “She’s... she ain’t that much younger’n me, but... fuck, I thought she was dead. She disappeared not long after I met her, and her mom died, and then Dad died a couple years later and that was when I went to Duane Street, but-but...”
“Shh, Race, it’s okay. Just breathe. You’re okay.”
Spot really wanted to know what was going on here, but the priority right now was stopping Race from having a panic attack.
Gradually, the other boy’s breathing slowed to a reasonable rate, and while having him crying on his shoulder wasn’t ideal, in Spot’s book, his sadness was better than fear.
“What happened with your sister?” he asked quietly after a few seconds of trying to comfort his boyfriend without much success. Comforting people wasn’t really among Spot’s strengths.
Race took a shaky breath, “She’s alive, turns out. And not just alive, she’s... you remember Cora, right? Cora Armstrong?”
Spot nodded, “Walkin’ Mouth’s girl?”
It took a couple seconds for him to realize.
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah,” Race agreed, “She don’t remember me, and that’s alright—I barely remember her, but... we was talkin’ ‘bout our pasts just with the group, and I started realizin’ a lot of hers lines up with mine. She don’t look like the people who raised her, and they was always horrible to her, and... and Sarah says she used to talk ‘bout a brother. Someone she missed from when she was really little, only she forgot when she got older.”
Thinking about it, that girl who’d punched Spot in the face did look a bit like Race. She had the same hair, a similar face shape, fidgeted a lot...
Yeah, Spot could see it. He would’ve seen it a lot sooner if he’d known Race even had a sister, but it sounded like he hadn’t told anyone that.
“Does she know?”
Race laughed shortly, “No. Hells, no. How would that come up? Just ‘hi Cora, turns out the long lost sister I never told anybody I had is you. Ya don’t remember me, but I’s missed you since the first day your mama came home without ya.’ Yeah, that’ll go over great. That totally won’t freak her out.”
“Race...” Spot held him close, hoping he could find the words to get his point across, “This is eatin’ ya up inside.”
“No shit.”
“Racer, if you’s been missin’ your sister this long, ya gotta tell her. You and Cora need to talk ‘bout this.”
He was still hesitating, but Spot knew that he was smart. He was scared shitless, but he already knew it was the right thing to do. This was just a matter of Spot psyching him up for it.
“She deserves to know,” he pointed out, “And you deserve a relationship with her. And besides, Racer, if ya don’t tell her, what’re ya gonna do? Just sit on it until you die?”
Race shook his head slowly, “No. You’re right, Spottie. I... I needs to talk to Cora ‘bout this.”
“Damn right you do.”
He still sat there with him until Race decided to get up.
“Do ya want me to come with you?”
Race shook his head, “No. This is somethin’ I need to do alone.”
His smile was clearly forced, but he didn’t drop it until Spot gave him a look.
“What do I even say to her?”
“I don’t think that matters,” Spot answered, “As long as ya say it without runnin’ out.”
Race nodded, “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense.”
Spot didn’t want to force him to go if he wasn’t ready. Hell, he never liked it when Race left. But he could tell that the other boy was stalling.
Finally, Race stepped forward to hug him goodbye. He was still shaking, but Spot was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to chicken out.
“I’ll love ya no matter how this goes down,” he reminded him, “And chances are, Cora’ll be happy to have you back.”
“You’re probably right. Yeah, it’ll be fine. See ya tomorrow. Love ya, too.”
Race left quickly, and Spot hoped he would keep his courage up long enough to do what he needed to do.
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realizinau · 3 months
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This isn't a question but like— Dogday looks so cute with makeup on, him and the gals look so pretty with it honestly
Though rip Catnap— hopefully Hoppy doesn't get a hold on him, depending on what she's planning on doing that is lol
Your artwork is also very pretty! Gonna say that rn before I forget to do so— ^^
The gals + Dogday thank you! I thank you as well SNIFFLES
And your guess is as good as mine, Anon. Murder or bedazzlement, who knows :)
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trbl-will-find-me · 7 years
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OTP Q & A
More prompts from @realizin-g
(aka Fluff! Lots of fluff! Jane belongs to @commanderweir. Lizzie’s just on babysitting duty.)
4. Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway?
[During the EU/EW invasion]
His datapad buzzes. Go to bed, the message reads.
Can’t sleep, he types. Might as well be up getting something done.
There’s a pause, and it buzzes again. You just ran a 22 hour shift on 4 hours of sleep. Productivity can wait.
You wanna itemize the expenses?
Council can shove it. Expense reports can wait. Get some sleep.
I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine.
…Do I have to come tuck you in
8. Which one spends all day running errands, and which one says “you remembered [thing], right?”
[Pre-EEAE]
In general, she is the one with time to spare. On sabbatical from the university, her time not spent in meetings is her own, leaving her to do as she sees fit
Today, she rolls out of bed sometime around 10, gets dressed, and picks up coffee cake and apple cider at the café on the corner. . She picks up their dry cleaning, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the woman behind the counter, and runs it back. She picks up produce from the farmer’s market, and wanders for a while, munching on strawberries she rinses off with her water bottle. She stops in the bookstore, emerging with some Dashiell Hammett novel and a handful of postcards to send to her parents: Look guys! This is what location-stable living is like!
It is all going so well, until she checks her phone: Don’t forget, we have that dinner tonight.
She texts him back. Why must you ruin my afternoon? I have strawberries.
Duty calls, Regan … but save some of those for me, please.
11. If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through laser and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips?
[Pre-EEAE]
“Why?” She groans at the movie on the screen. “Why don’t they ever think heists through?
“Is this really a conversation you want to have in public?”
“You’ve got Dress Blues on, and we’re stuck on this plane for another two hours. We’re fine. But, seriously. Why. That’s so much extra work. Just cut the power to the building and go in like that. Much less effort. Besides, how are they gonna get the painting through the lasers?”
“It’s a matter of pride, not taking the easy way out.”
“Oh god, you’re the one with baby powder and spandex suit, aren’t you?”
“I plead the fifth.”
13. Which one likes to surprise the other with a lot of small random gifts?
[Pre-EEAE]
It’s fine, he tells himself, signing the receipt. This happens sometimes.
The story goes like this. He’d asked her for something to write with for a meeting, and she’d passed him the most perfectly weighted, cartridge-based fountain pen he’d ever used, a fact he had mentioned upon returning it.
Two weeks later, one showed up in his mailbox, along with a smattering of inks. Life’s too short to use boring pens, the note said.
He’d found the earrings, tiny paper cranes folded in a bright red paper, when he’d stopped to get coffee somewhere and found himself wandering around the small shop attached while he waited. Into the mail they’d gone.
It had only escalated.
He’d come home the week before to find a pair of silver cufflinks shaped like D20 dice in the mail. Turns out Chicago wasn’t a total bust, the note says.
The necklace is dendritic agate, which he supposes might be more meaningful if he had any idea about gemology. All does know is that it looks like flowers pressed beneath glass, a whole landscape in two inches.  
Well, that, and where it’s going.
23. Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy?
[Pre-EEAE]
There are certain things he has come to expect in Regan’s apartment: stacks of books, mail from whatever exotic locale her parents are stationed, a collection of shoes scattered throughout the hall, the contents of her purse upended on an otherwise unused dining room table, her coat shrugged off and draped across the couch.
The dog is new.
“I never pictured you as a German Shepherd person,” he says.
She shrugs. “Me either, but she’s a good girl. Not mine, but a good girl.”
“I was gonna say…”
She shakes her head. “I’m watching her for a friend.”
The dog uncurls herself from the couch, and trots over, nuzzling against Regan. “Hi, pretty,” she says, kneeling down to offer a scratch behind the hears. “Have a good day?”
The dog answers her with a lick. Satisfied, it moves onto him, offering a greeting in much the same fashion. He scratches under her chin, and is rewarded with a wagging tail.
“I always wanted a dog,” she says, wistfully. “Having Jane around just makes that worse.” She shrugs. “Maybe after things settle down…” She looks up at him from her position on the floor. “Think I could talk Curran into giving us one?”
“There are things even you can’t pull off.”
She contemplates this for a moment. “Hey,” she grins. “You never know.”
24. Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired?
[Pre-EEAE]
Her heel breaks with a dull thud, and suddenly she is standing lopsided in the  lobby. The giggles follow swiftly thereafter.
“How?” He asks her, surveying the damage.
“You know, I thought they were wiggling earlier, but I wasn’t sure.”
“Wiggling?”
She nods. “Heels sometimes do that before they break.”
He gapes at her. “Why?”
She shrugs. “Physics was never my strong point.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not like you can just walk through the driveway like that.”
“It’s not like I’ve got a lot of options here.”
“If you think I can’t piggyback-carry you out of here, I have news for you.”
Her eyes light up. “What a Boy Scout,” she grins.
--
From: Curran, HC To: Bradford, J
Lieutenant Commander, kindly explain to me why there is a photo of you in Dress Blues carrying Dr. Regan and what appears to be her shoe through the lobby on the Washingtonian’s story on last night’s festivities? We are all very curious to hear what might have necessitated such a display.
(P.S. Dr. Regan’s parents will no doubt be as interested in her explanation. I’m sitting across from her sufficiently appalled mother as I write this.)
26. Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder?
[AU: Get Out Early While You Can --- Bradford & Regan make an Exit, Stage Right from XCOM a few months before the invasion]
They don’t have a lot of pictures together. The meetings, dinners, and functions that made up the bulk of their life under XCOM were not the kind of spaces that permitted casual photography, and their time outside of that was such that he was often too engaged in the moment to remember to stop and capture it. 
They’ll have time now, though.
He still can’t quite believe they’ve left. XCOM had brought them together, had sent them all over the world, had given them the time to fall in love. To walk away feels strange, even though he knows he would make the same choice. She is worth it. A future together is worth it. There is the story they’ve written, and they story they’ve yet to write; he cherishes the former, but can’t wait for the latter.
There is a ring box in his pocket. One of these days, he’ll get around to opening it for her, asking her the question, and seeing what kind of response he gets.
In the meantime, she is asleep on his shoulder, the rise and fall of her chest slow and steady. His arm is around her waist, holding her close. In his other hand is his phone.
He unlocks it, and taps the camera.
Better late than never, he thinks.
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iidgm · 2 months
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over here asking the real questions for the realizin' au. youre welcome
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reuenthals · 7 years
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1, 5, 6, 7, 13-31, 40 aaaaand 45 (◡‿◡✿)
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realizinau · 3 months
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This is an au i'm excited to see! Are they going to have any interactions with the other toys or the kids? Have a good time wherever you are!!
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Thank you!
Yep! Inside of the factory is like a weird little town or city for the toys that dwell within, so interaction between toys in different parts of the building is very frequent.
As for their interactions with the children, that will be elaborated on in a future post :3c
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Patchnotes 2/13/2024
Gave Catnap his Long Ass Tail back. Originally didn't have it because I thought it would be cumbersome for him in reality, but I have come to appreciate how iconic it is
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realizinau · 1 month
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(i found this blog while doing my daily watch of content in tumblr and i gotta say im interest in this au!) so i wanna ask what jobs the smilling critters have in the play care and how they interact with the kids
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Roles, roles :)
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realizinau · 3 months
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I am sorry but why does Dogday look cunty? Not hating, I love it but it's too perfect xD
He's just slaying! He is the humble canvas and the girls are painting!
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realizinau · 2 months
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Catnap and Dogday,On a scale of one to ten!How would you rate your closeness to your friends?including each other?
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Get in losers we're making an infographic!
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