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beezonia · 1 year

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Some of my favourite pokèmon ships and some headcannons!

Pt1

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Molayne x Kahili - Steelwedgeshipping

These two are very much a secretive couple but not like their doing bad stuff they just keep to themselves

Kahili is a bit emotionally constipated so molayne helps her a lot with expressing her emotions

They both have bracelets that they wear that were made by Olivia for their engagement

Molayne’s represents his dugtrio with two little diamonds for the eyes and a citron gem for the nose

Kahili’s is based on her Toucannon and has two onyx gems for the eyes and a spinel for the red part of its beak

They met due to the elite four and Kukui introducing them cause he thought they would get along well

And they did but Kahili was definitely a bit skeptic due to her golfing career and not wanting to shove Molayne into the spotlight

But she does end up kissing him on camera at her last match before retiring

Overall they are very soft and sweet

Shauntal x Grimsley - Rolandshipping

These two are very romantic but also very very freaky at the same time

Goth couple

Very much library dates and candlelight dinners but also just lounging on the couch with each other

They are both extremely into the paranormal (Shauntal especially she is ghost type for a reason)

She has a podcast that grimsley frequents and they talk about hauntings and all the spooky stuff

Shauntal can be a bit shy at times so grimsley is her biggest hypeman

And Shauntal makes sure that he gets enough rest and doesn’t gamble to much

They are big softies who do look intimidating but really aren’t

Kris x Silver - Redemptionshipping

Kris becomes a triathlete when she’s older she still loves the thrill of battle but she’s not really focused on that anymore

Silver goes on his own journey to Kalos and they end up being really good at the long distance relationship things

Silver makes sure that Kris takes breaks and spend time away from her sport

Kris makes sure to stay in touch frequently so silver doesn’t feel alone all the time

When they do meet they aren’t really the type too show to much affection in public but they do hold hands alot

They are the silent but very sweet couple

Silver gets taught dessert recipes by Kris cause she’s amazing at baking

Whilst he himself is more a cook and does big meals a lot of the time

They love to take hikes together it’s an unspoken thing between the two of them but they just know when either wants to meet up and go for a huge hike

Their bond is extremely strong which makes them an awesome team to battle against

It shows through their pokèmon who have an equally strong bond

Viola x Grant - Fleurdegranadeshipping

bi4bi couple I don’t make the rules

These two were the enemies to lovers in kalos

Most of the league had bets on when they’d get together or break up

But they are very sweet

Cafe dates or battling dates they pick and choose depending on their moods

Grant helps viola with her photography sometimes when he’s not busy with the gym

Viola joins grant climbing sometimes and they get into some very heated competitions

Grant had to get Alexa’s approval before he could officially ask viola out

It took a few months of convincing (alexa is a tough cookie to crack)

Bit together they are extremely strong and cute

Viola helps grant with balancing the gym and his work

Grant helps viola relax with his cooking as making sure she rests enough due to her own photography projects

Having said that grant sometimes just takes some shots of viola when there put and about on dates sometimes

He has a photo book full of photos from the start up till now of their relationship

Selene (Moon) x Lily - Moonlilyshipping

They are both very quiet, their relationship is not one many know about (apart from elio/hau/gladion)

So they spend hours and hours just snuggling and chilling in each other’s rooms with their pokèmon

Lily likes to read to selene when she’s not doing her champion work and stuff

Selene loves to make lily little trinkets and give her gemstones as a symbol of her love and it’s her way of showing Lily she cares

They tend to take long walks on the beaches just talking about their days or something that had happened

They have double dates with hau and gladion which consists hau talking his ass of with selene trying to match his energy

Lily and gladion both end up smiling like idiots and wonder how they got wonderful partners like that

Lily becomes a pokèmon professor in the future staying in alola to help kuki and burnett with their growing family

She eventually becomes alola’s official professor, travelling all over to spread her research along with the other professors

Selene eventually retires/gets beaten and leaves the position of champion at some point (early 30s/ late 20s?)

You can find her in the battle tower though she likes it there

Hau x Gladion - Cutebonesshipping

Another sort of enemies/rivals/to lovers thing

They tended to avoid each other at first, hau did make the first moves and was like “I think ur cool would you like to be my friend?”

Gladion challenged him to several battles

It took hau a bit to realise that gladion was trying to find his weaknesses whilst battling and while he knows he has a few, hau knows he and his team are strong

And when hau continues to beat gladion’s ass oh he falls hard does gladion

He tells Lily and Lily is the same about selene, they are very bad at love btw

Hau and Gladion are getting to know each other a lot better

They have battle dates as well as malasada dates

Hau ends up asking him out when they finish a battle one time cause he knew that gladion might not do it

Gladion blushes his ass of and makes sure to always reaffirm his love for hau because the bean is a tad bit self conscious

Hau travels to jhoto and kanto to try all the food, his blog becomes quite popular in the world

Gladion stays with Lily sometimes but travels to kalos to meet with Korrina who he’s close friends with

Hau loves to bring back little keychains and accessories that will suit gladion

In turn gladden brings hau food from kalos back

They are very soft btw

——-

That’s it! Lmk if you want a pt2!

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cj-the-random-works-in-progress · 8 months

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Introduction Post

Hello, my name is CJ Nightingale, and this is my blog dedicated to my OCs, their story, and the development of said story!! I'm making this blog for the sake of having a designated place to talk about my OCs, and so that I have some people to hold me accountable for actually making story progress, since I've been struggling a bit to actually sit down and make progress on getting the comic going. I think having a blog about it will help me stay motivated. Hopefully. Lol

A little bit of story related information:

This story has over 36 very important characters, not including antagonists and "true" side characters. This story takes place over the course of about 7 or 8 years, in 5 acts, taking the characters from middle school into early college. It's based in what I believe would be described as an "urban fantasy" setting, which looks similar to our world but is quite different. The story is meant to be mostly lighthearted, but there will be very intense moments and emotional damage (and a little blood sometimes too, as there will be fantasy violence).

I will make proper posts describing things in more detail as I go, but for the time being here's a brief introduction to each of the main characters:

Skylar: Acts 1-5, sarcastic, takes no BS, a bit of an enigma, Lukas' twin

Jesse: Acts 1-5, scatterbrained, just out here doing his best

Rin: Acts 1-5, mischievous, enjoys trying new things

Zander: Acts 1-5, smart, unbothered, designated "responsible dude"

Tabitha: Acts 1-5, bubbly, arguably too much faith in humanity

Lukas: Acts 1-5, looks more chill than he actually is, emotionally intelligent (most of the time), Skylar's twin

Lydia: Acts 1-5, too smart for her own good, very good with power tools

Marcus: Acts 1-5, quiet, listens a lot and knows more than he should, arguably drinks too much caffeine

Jules: Acts 2-5, highly approachable and talkative, likes poofy dresses

Dillon: Acts 2-5, skeptical of people, likes roller derby, hates group projects

Takuma: Acts 2-5, Ambitious, sarcastic, has doodled on every piece of clothing they own

Mariah Mae: (Kind of a side character) Acts 2-5, wildly peppy, a bit of a nerd, highly authentic person

Rea: Acts 2-5, perpetually has her head in the clouds, bewildered by humans

Dani: Acts 2-5, highly intuitive, knows all the things, likes music and their service dog

Booker: Acts 2-5, tends to accidentally run his mouth, likes basketball, bass guitar, and his friends

Ollie: Acts (1) 3-5, a little bit reactive, closed off, terrifyingly good at sleight of hand and at lying (do not play poker with him)

Meklit: Acts (1) 3-5, levelheaded, blunt, likes people and dislikes shoes

Gavin: Acts 3-5, both lawyer smart and a bit naïve, cellist, keeps putting himself in situations by accident

Goldie: Acts (1) 3-5, a bit shy, puts a lot of pressure on himself but looks really really chill at all times, chronic doodler

Blake: Acts 1-5, very antsy, very tired, very full of nervous energy, makes some poor decisions

Zaahira: Acts 4-5, genuinely nice person, cares about people, prefers plants

Wulf: Acts (3???) 4-5, impulsive, giggly, just happy to be here, on the run from the government

Akachi: Acts (1) 3-5, extremely ambitious, aesthetically inclined, color coordinated at all times

Selene: Acts 4-5, high tolerance for shenanigans, very bubbly, just out here having a good time

Sakura: Acts 4-5, detail oriented, loves stickers, can borderline read minds/hj

Remi: Acts 4-5 (probably??? gonna have to figure that out a bit more), very smart, very sarcastic, very giggly, very happy to be here

Leah: Acts 1-5, insomniac, a bit pretentious, makes some poor decisions

Sylvi: Acts (1) 3-5, borderline annoying theatre kid in the best way possible, very good singer

Karim: (Arguably a side character) Acts 4-5 (maybe idk), arguably too much faith in humanity, enjoys puns

Jono: Acts (3) 5, loves music, loses his train of thought frequently, looks more nervous than he is

Ivanna: Acts (3) 5, tough, good at water polo, believes in doing the right thing

Sovanna: Acts (3) 4-5, super chill, loves stickers, loves travelling, detail oriented

Ash: Act 5, under a ton of pressure, a bit reactive, out here trying his best

Coral: Act 5, can be hard to talk to, big listener, takes herself very seriously

Sib: (arguably a side character) Act 5, way too much energy at all times, good sense of humor, Ari's twin

Ari: (arguably a side character) Act 5, tired, quiet, talks more to animals than he does people

So that's a brief introduction to the non-antagonist characters, I'll make actual introduction posts for them later, but also if y'all want to ask questions about any of them before I get to that lmk!! Also feel free to ask questions about anything related to this story, I'd be happy to talk about it, and it might motivate me to help get stuff done.

If you found this blog just randomly and not from my fanart page, you can find that at @cj-the-random-artist , and you can find my website which has more art of my OCs at the link down here:

If / when I start uploading this story as a comic, I'll update this post with that information as well. That's all for this long introductory post, and I hope y'all enjoy this long winded thing and enjoy this little blog here!! Have good day lovelies :D

#introduction post #yay here's my long winded post about this OC blog #please ask me about my ocs i need to make stuff for this story so i can get the comic going/hj #peer pressure me y'all lmao (pls don't actually peer pressure me i just need encouragement)

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theboarsbride · 2 years

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For the Writing Ask Meme:

#2 and #22 💜

2. Give short descriptions of all the main characters for [WIP].

Gonna do this for the characters for "Those Red Nights" since it's the WIP I've been working on the most recently! (also these won't be super short, RIP I apologize in advance)

Det. Selene Radcliffe - 28 years of age; a young, freshly-graduated detective. Mute - uses a combination of ASL and a pocket notebook to communicate (the latter of which is reserved for those who aren't fluent in ASL). Has a degree in Psychology and Criminal Justice (as well as a minor in Forensic Sciences) from the University of Wisconsin (Madison). Works hard to prove herself as a smart, strong, determined, and hard-working investigator because of how she is treated differently by her peers for being a mute woman, as well as being the daughter of Arthur Radcliffe, a famed and well-liked PI that worked with the Milwaukee Police Department. She is seen as the ‘privileged trainee’ because of these connections, and she is aware of this privilege, which fuels her determination to prove herself capable and skilled enough in her own right. She also owns a fat cat named Gus (he is important in the story, I swear, lmao), and a lot symbolic motifs related to her character is moon imagery and the color red, as this is a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. Face claim (and primary source of inspo) is Jodie Foster.

Det. Apollo Esposito - 40 years of age, a seasoned detective that works with the MPD. Is originally from Chicago, and comes from a Black-Hispanic background. Knows ASL because his mom is deaf (sometimes he will sign stuff when speaking out of habit, or he has super animated hand gestures that look like he’s signing). Apollo is a very optimistic and hopeful man, despite seeing the more grim parts of humanity. He uses seeing such grim stuff as inspiration to remain warm and hopeful. He and Selene are partners, both professionally and romantically, and they've also a very deep friendship with one another. Apollo is her voice of hopeful reason, while Selene is his realistic one. The symbolism surrounding his character centers primarily on sun imagery and the color yellow and themes of hope, and his fairytale counterpart is the Huntsman.... he is also a huge Broadway musical nerd. I've no set face claim for him, but it's currently bouncing between Norm Lewis and Samuel Anderson.

Lowell Volkov - 45 years of age, is employed at the Milwaukee Public Museum. He starts off as a very meek, spineless man that allows himself to be pushed around by his peers - which he, unfortunately, interprets as personal slights and cruelties against him (when in reality these people aren't all that rude to him, he just holds a very jaded, hateful worldview). He becomes afflicted with lycanthropy after scratching his hand on an artifact (this concept needs more development), which he initially uses to boost his confidence but ultimately loses himself within this power fantasy, and becomes a cruel and arrogant man. Ultimately, he uses his lycanthropy to commit crimes and murders, becoming a serial killer known as "The Big Bad Wolf" because of the animalistic nature of his kills. Lowell and Selene were once lovers, though very briefly, and their relationship becomes one of predator and prey as they begin to hunt each other in the streets of Milwaukee... A lot of symbolism surrounding Lowell's character is cold, starless nights and wolves, and his lycanthropy is a very lowkey allegory for toxic masculinity and themes surrounding confidence becoming arrogance. Face claim is Bob Odenkirk.

22. How much of your own self/experiences do you believe pours into your projects? if this differs per project, which projects have the most and least of you?

Admittedly I try to distance myself as much as I can from my projects, in terms of putting my own experiences into plots and characters? The closest I've ever came to this was making characters like Edgar in TMATB book nerds because I'm a book nerd lmao dslsdljdslsddsldsklsdk

#Those Red Nights #writeblr #character intro #jojo writes #werewolf oc #little red riding hood #red riding hood retelling #fairytale retelling

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iviarellereads · 16 days

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The Great Hunt, Chapter 20 - Saidin

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Dragon's fang icon) In which that seems... not good?

PERSPECTIVE: Rand. They stop at dawn to give Loial and the horses a rest. Selene asks him to take the Horn down so she can see it, and Rand says absolutely not. He doesn't want the dagger unshielded. She says she just wants one teeeny weeeeny glimpse of it, in the daylight. He can even hold it! Give her an image to remember him by.

The way she's manipulating him reminds him somehow of Aes Sedai, and he asks again if she is one. She erupts in a cold, spitting fury and reaffirms that she's no Aes Sedai, accusing him of always hurling that at her like an insult.(1) At first she starts ignoring him, though when he looks at her she’s smiling at him.(2) But over the course of a day or two, she warms back up to him, until they reach a village and she decides she wants to sleep under the stars instead of at the inn, insisting that there could be Darkfriends, or someone else might get greedy and steal the chest. When Rand suggests they pass it off as "my lady's travel chest of clothes", she gives him an unreadable look.

As they continue toward the village, something catches Rand's eye. There's an excavation nearby, and from the clay thrusts a hand with a great crystal, which is what glinted and caught his attention. He's so focused on it, and a face that must be attached to the same grand statue, that he doesn't even realize he's started holding saidin. He remembers Bayle Domon talking of a great statue holding a crystal, but that was on the island of Tremalking.(3)

Selene is genuinely freaked out and wants Rand to get away from the thing. He releases the void, but saidin doesn't let go of him. He feels like if he sings the song saidin is singing, the statue would open its mouth and sing with him.

The song of saidin, the song of the sphere, he could feel them quivering along his bones.(4) Grimly, he refused to give in, reached deep inside himself . . . I will not. . . . “Rand.” He did not know whose voice it was. . . . reached for the core of who he was, the core of what he was . . . . . . will not . . . “Rand.” The song filled him, filled the emptiness. . . . touched stone, hot from a pitiless sun, cold from a merciless night. . . . . . . not . . . Light filled him, blinded him. “Till shade is gone,” he mumbled, “till water is gone . . .” Power filled him. He was one with the sphere. “. . . into the Shadow with teeth bared . . .” The power was his. The Power was his. “. . . to spit in Sightblinder’s eye . . .” Power to Break the World. “. . . on the last day!”(5) It came out as a shout, and the void was gone. Red shied at his cry; clay crumbled under the stallion’s hoof, spilling into the pit. The big bay went to his knees. Rand leaned forward, gathering the reins, and Red scrambled to safety, away from the edge. They were all staring at him, he saw. Selene, Loial, Hurin, all of them. “What happened?” The void. . . . He touched his forehead. The void had not gone when he released it, and the glow of saidin had grown stronger, and. . . . He could not remember anything more. Saidin. He felt cold. “Did I . . . do something?” He frowned, trying to remember. “Did I say something?”

He was just mumbling to himself, stiff as a statue, until he shouted "day!" but now some of the guards seem to have spotted them. Rand takes one last glance at the crystal, remembering... something... about the sphere. Then they take off for the village proper.

The inn is called The Nine Rings,(6) which was one of Rand's favourite adventure stories growing up. He takes it for a good sign, and asks Selene if he frightened her back there. She says she was terrified, and she doesn't scare easily. She half begs him to take off with her and the Horn, think of it, side by side, the Horn of Valere in his hands, and more glory for the taking, what more could he want?

Rand shakes his head and tells her once more that he doesn't *want* the Horn or glory. It's not his in the first place. She turns her back on him, and that's that.

=====

(1) It was TWICE, but go off I guess. What an intense reaction, how does anyone not see how suspicious she is? (2) She's probably very pleased at him standing up for himself, she just wants him to do it at everyone else and never to her. (3) Tremalking's is just the hand holding the crystal out of the ground, as far as Domon knew it had never been excavated like this one. What are they? How might they be related? If this one is a man, is the other likely to be the same, or might they be a matched and opposite pair? (4) Just drawing attention to this bit. What is this statue, to evoke a connection to saidin so instinctively in Rand? (5) Those words, though broken up, are one of the Aiel sayings we've heard. (6) Subtlety's for cowards.

#wheel of time #wot #the wheel of time #twot #tgh #the great hunt #wot dragon fang icon #rand al'thor #loial #hurin (wot)#selene (wot)#lanfear

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teakoodrawz · 2 months

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Here's why i love the Brothers Blood au the same i love the star projects (from what i realized and the list is longer than i expected.)

the Fitzbat family (Mark, Seren, Selene, Mathew) are all family oriented and always put themselves on others before their own. always look after each other. they're an active healthy family with happiness, care and humors. "Family is Forever and ever. A Bound that cannot Unbound but to hold together."

((they have good angst story that caught my interest......)))))

I don't like any main protagonists of my version having family issues (the songbirds au has a healthy family made with unintentional idea and connected to this au)

I have a good family that i'm happy with and i experienced that very well.

Family is important. always love our family first before others outside of the family tree because they're the source of our lives that catered us

I love when Seren is a great uncle who's still not ready to get a family of his own so he just spoiled Mark's kids everytime he was called to look after them while the band are gone(because he's not great with kids sometimes so he does what the kids want)

Seren is everything to what i appeal....(he was already a great person not because of what I desired him to be but because of how his mom raised him. plus killing is still his satisfaction as an assassin)

Seren being a professional assassin is augh...💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

good brotherhood (they fight each other too both verbally and physically)

separated after the twins can afford a house of their own but still visits their parents as much as they can (Seren lives alone so he never minded for any of the scc band or his family to visit him (they have to inform him first or else he haven't hid any of his blades and guns he forgot to hide (or dead bodies with blood on the floor or on his hands and face) when unexpectedly visiting him))

in MS, S-2 was envious on Mark's success in life. now this au Mark is ironically envious of Seren's strength and wealth.

Seren provides the Family by sending them his money for their expenses while Mark takes care of his family when they're sick

the twins loved their grandparents when they were little because of how they always give them their favorite candies but sometimes they get bored when going fishing with their grandpa (their grandpa tells them stories about what it's like to be a soldier)

the twins have a special friend as their neighbor (Derek)

Mark is probably the only person who gets jokes from Leo, Sunny's dad too good and catches his humors (most of em are just dad jokes or any silly things at all. they're both silly guys)

Mathew was a teacher once in middle school near their hometown so that means the twins are his students by that year until he became a professor in college a decade 2/4 years later but sadly it was in another state so he's separated. he can go back when on holidays obviously

the au's name itself can give various of meanings connecting to its lore

Seren is canonly single forever in this au

#[records]#brothers blood au

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wholesalemagnesiumoxide · 1 year

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triple helix pitching forward | chapter four: entanglement depth

word count: 5.3k

content warnings: violence, sexual allusion, psychological distress

The sun has crept far enough down the horizon that it no longer provides any light. Seen through the window, Elysium-4 is shrouded in near total darkness, lit only by the last embers of the sunset, the dim bulbs of its rocky moons, and the pinpoint lights of the stars.

The uniformity of the view makes it the perfect backdrop for Selene's work. Sitting in the living room for a change of pace, she's reading through laboratory correspondence. Augments project text onto her retina. Piecemeal decryption has its advantages, but the major downside is that the information is disgorged at random. Even if you know what you're looking for, you need luck on your side to find anything quickly.

When it comes up in her search, she almost doesn't recognize what she's found. She pages past it, skims a few more messages, then has to go back once the significance has worked its way through her mind. Its formal title and stilted scientific language don't fully disguise Minerva Verrine's initial report of THRONE's discovery. Included are the coordinates and an orbital photograph of the entrance to the cave THRONE was found in.

"That's not too far from us, is it?" Selene asks.

"It is an hour's flight away," Brutus says into her ear.

"What?" Asphodel looks up from her tablet. "Oh, you're talking to him, aren't you." Brow furrowed, she goes back to her reading --- writing unanswered letters can only occupy so much time. Selene's apologetic look goes unnoticed.

"Let's head over," she says, voice lowered.

"Do you expect THRONE will be there?" Brutus asks as the ship begins its subtle acceleration.

"It could be." She stands and stretches, making a mental note to do more flexibility exercises --- she aches from sitting. "If we're lucky."

"If it is, are you confident you will be able to eliminate it?" The question is pointed in a direction she can't quite determine.

"Nothing's managed to kill me yet, right?" She half-smiles. He doesn't respond. The dull pressure of his cameras on her is unyielding. Her awareness of his gaze -- so frequently a comforting background hum -- settles over her like snow.

"...I don't have to go if you don't want me to."

"It is one of our best leads as to THRONE's location, assuming it has not found another home."

"If it hasn't found another home..." She trails off, tapping her foot, looking at Asphodel. "Your hair's all tangled."

"What?" Asphodel looks up again. Selene can barely make out the cover of some mass-market romance novel on her tablet, the sort of committee-written commodity that served as the hardtack of her mental diet when she was younger and lonelier. "It's fine. See?" Asphodel attempts to run her fingers through her hair and winces when they get stuck.

"Hang on, I'll go get the hairbrush."

"You don't have to--"

It's not long before she's holding the hairbrush out to Asphodel, who tentatively accepts it. She spends a moment picking hairs out from between the bristles, letting them fall to the floor to get lost in the carpet's fibers, before she starts brushing her own hair. 'Tangled' had been generous; Asphodel meets harsh resistance. She threads her fingers into a particularly stubborn knot, attempting to tease it apart, before giving up and applying brute force. Hair rips, and Selene reaches out briefly as if to take the brush from her. Their eyes meet. Selene's hand retracts, and she tries to disguise the gesture as idle tapping. Asphodel doesn't acknowledge it.

"Thanks," she says when her hair's been tamed, avoiding Selene's gaze. The brush goes back in its drawer with auburn hairs contrasting Selene's sable.

The view from the window barely changes even as the ship moves; Selene's almost startled when a blue light appears over the horizon, dimly illuminating the rim of a crater a few kilometers away from the cavern entrance. Whatever subterranean reaction sustains the blue flame has yet to exhaust itself.

"What do you think happened here?" Selene asks.

"Meteor impact, maybe?" Asphodel says. She stands up, cups her hands and presses her face against the window to block out the glare of the interior lights.

"You did not see it when you flew in?" Brutus asks.

She pauses a moment. "No, I didn't. Minerva didn't mention it, either."

"Must've been recent, then." Selene tries to reconstruct his line of attack here. This is their first time seeing the crater, too. It's not inherently suspicious to be unaware of a particular location on some random planet. She knows he knows this -- no, more accurately, she knows he knows she wouldn't consider it persuasive evidence. So then...

Her train of thought is interrupted by him speaking into her ear. "We are ten minutes away from the cave."

Her armor slips on over her clothes like a holster fits a gun. She tests the flashlight on her helmet; it flickers a moment, blinking away sleep, before brightening. She turns it back off, satisfied. She holds out her hand for Legion before remembering it's still at the Biological Research Bureau facility. The final piece of her ensemble is a length of self-drilling cable she wears like a bandolier.

As the ship descends, Asphodel asks, "So where are you going, exactly?"

"The cave THRONE was found in," Selene says. "It might've gone back there."

"So you're following it home to kill it."

The blunt language is like a strike to the skull. "That's what you do when an animal kills people." When it eats people. "Isn't it?"

Asphodel's face twists. Selene can't decode her expression -- disgust or sadness, perhaps. It's a few moments before Asphodel responds, "Minerva wouldn't like it."

"Would you?" Selene doesn't ask if she's still alive to approve or disapprove.

"My opinion doesn't matter here. It's your job, not mine." She returns to her reading, eyes narrowed.

Selene steps through the airlock. The interstitial room is redundant in a breathable atmosphere. A pressure suit hangs from a hook, and she briefly shudders as she thinks about having to use it. A ladder descends just far enough for her to safely drop the rest of the way to the ground. The impact forces a cloud of spores out of subterranean fungal meshes. The air reeks of mildew.

In the absence of leaf litter or grass, the dirt is covered in sun-starved fungal whelps, braided mycelial patches, and slow-roving slime molds. Everything is damp, glistening in the beam of her flashlight. She looks up at the ship, then glances around. Orienting herself against the setting sun, she starts walking. Each step turns up more wheezing exhalations of spores. The canopy overhead starts to thin out as she comes up to the hungry mouth of the cave. Dull, sunset red on her right and unearthly blue to her left, she steps into the darkness.

Entering the cave is like wading into a lake; Elysium-4 rotates so slowly that air circulation is virtually non-existent. Cold, stagnant air meets her. The temperature doesn't bother her the way it would have in her youth. She's sure she's long since burned out the synapses governing goosebumps, shivering, chattering teeth, the way one can go blind from staring at the sun, but her chest still constricts as cold air fills her lungs. It's not the physical discomfort of childhood winters spent breathing recycled air at needling temperatures; breathing should be easy at temperatures far colder than this. Why, then, is this so difficult? Why--

"Breathe, Selene." Brutus's voice is like solid ground.

She breathes out, then in.

"Your oxygen levels are fine," he says. A hint of kind concern has crept into his voice, and she's momentarily embarrassed he thinks she needs it. She's even more embarrassed that he's right. "I will be monitoring them as you descend. If you even begin to approach suffocation, I will warn you."

His reassurance throws her emotions into sharp relief. So that's what this is. Childhood fears of asphyxiation digested and regurgitated. She's a professional. She should be better than this.

"Thanks, Brutus."

Steps almost mechanical, she begins her descent.

The cave walls gleam as though wet. Soil has slid down the throat of the cave, bereft of mycelial networks to hold it in place. It's like going from the lobby to an uncarpeted service corridor. She has to stoop to avoid hitting her head.

"We haven't gone this deep into the wilderness in a while," she whispers, voice conversational. "When was the last time? Two years ago?"

"You recovered the body of that missing executive from a forest nine months ago."

She frowns. "It was a park. That doesn't count."

"I believe it qualifies. If it were merely a park, the wildlife would have been much less of an issue."

The bite on her leg still itches occasionally. "Arcology parks are all like that."

The cavern grows livelier each meter she descends. Carapaces glint on the cave walls as insects feed on what Selene assumes is some form of bacterial deposit. Flies joined at the hip, fused together in all-consuming procreation, flit insensate through the beam of her lamp.

It's inaccurate to say Brutus exists anywhere, except perhaps the motherboard wired into the Slumbering Fury. He is intangible, he is omnipresent, he is data; his hands reach across networks, unbound by any physical concerns. Still, Selene imagines him existing inside her, circuits enmeshed with her veins. It's preferable to imagine that, when the alternative is her body as extended peripheral to him, an array of network endpoints he can run his hands over, paging through her like a book. The thought has its appeal -- she remembers the gentle hypoxia of his hand on her throat and sighs -- but most of the time it merely unsettles her.

A centipede about the size of her finger is crawling across the rock, eating lichen off the cave walls. It's ghostly, translucent in the light. It doesn't respond to the sound of Selene drawing close, kneeling down, preoccupied with its meal.

"Surprisingly fearless."

"Perhaps it is toxic, and everything has evolved to instinctively avoid eating it."

"Too good at defending itself to have to pay attention to anything?"

"It is a likely explanation. Complex sense organs are quite the investment. Once they become vestigial, I do not doubt evolution would do away with them quickly."

She nods, stands, and continues down the cave, wondering if this has happened to her. Physical strength and a partner seeing through her eyes obviate the need to bother with details the way she used to. She hopes the centipede eats well.

Ice catches her light, refracts it, scatters it into a million radiant shards. Psychosomatic chills grip her. She blinks -- quartz, not ice. Quartz juts out from the walls like the quills of a porcupine turned inside out. The path is clear despite the intrusions. Ducking under a crystalline spike, she presses onward. Mineral shards, knocked loose by some past traveler, crunch underfoot.

She hasn't seen snow in ages, not since the day she became Selene Morningstar. Arcologies tend toward the temperate, occasionally the tropical. Snow is reserved for resorts for the wealthy, the rare arctic park, and frigid planets used as computational hubs; none of them are places Selene has cause to visit. Suits her just fine. After she emerged from her icy chrysalis, winter lost its appeal. She's survived hypothermia, survived weeks in a ship running cold to avoid detection, survived living with minimal life support in a ship leaching heat to the void. Enough cold for a lifetime.

Even her previous iteration hated the cold. It still surprises her that nobody chalked the murder at Cocytus up to snow madness or some similarly overblown superstition. Sometimes she comes closer to believing that's what it was than she'd like to admit. Despite the several parsecs and years between her and Cocytus, despite being alone with only her beloved co-conspirator for company, it's difficult to imagine herself as the person who pulled the trigger.

A warning tone pings in her ears. "Selene." Brutus's voice is mangled by interference. She scrambles backward instinctively.

"That is sufficient." She stops, crouched down.

"What was that?"

"The layers of rock above you are causing interference. You are almost too deep for me to be able to communicate with you."

The words trickle through her like water through sand. "Oh."

"I recommend you turn back. We can formulate another plan to find THRONE."

"No," she says reflexively. "No, I can't turn back. It could still be here."

"Are you sure it is prudent to face it alone?"

"It's the best lead we have. I'll be fine, I promise."

Brutus is silent for a moment. "I trust you. Please return safely."

"I will." She adjusts her headlamp. "Love you."

"I love you too."

She resumes her descent. Eventually she's left alone with an inkling of something growing in her, taking root in her, and the hypothermic corpse embedded in her brain stem. She breathes in, holds, breathes out. Her helmet's visor fogs up with condensation, and for a single nauseating moment, she thinks she sees spores on her breath.

The cave walls are blue-gray, shining with accumulated bacterial glaze and the water that carved this cavern. The path twists, never steep enough to trip her. The inert stone of the walls constricts under her gaze, peristaltic action forcing her down the pipe. She's still in the esophagus. She wonders what will be waiting to digest her.

She's sure she feels mycelial networks snake through her lungs. Infiltrators and advance force of the fungal infection must be coursing through her. Oxygen saturation readings blink in her peripheral vision. They seem fine. Good, even. Her canary cells have not begun hypoxic die-off; they aren't screaming distress calls into implanted nerve tissue.

Deep breaths. The air still smells like mildew. Selene isn't sure what system drives fungal air deeper into the cave. It's been more than a decade since her last physics class; more than a decade since any education focused on anything more general than specific neurotransmitters, psychological fault lines, and techniques for memory analysis.

She hears a splash and looks down to see she's stepped in a puddle. A fissure in the wall disgorges a small stream of water. She begins her calculus, weighing up how much further she'll have to go, her level of thirst, likelihood of contamination. She stoops for a moment, about to take off her helmet, before she reconsiders and stands back up.

"You'd never let me live it down if I did that," she says. Brutus doesn't hear her.

Insects flit through her lamp's beam. It's been years since she's been alone -- Brutus has been constant, her heartbeat since they met. In the frigid isolation of the laboratory dorms, he was her only company worth having, the only conversationalist that wasn't her boss.

Layers of petrified lichen hang down from the high ceiling like stalactites; she's exited a tunnel and entered some kind of natural dome. Knowledge from her past life returns to her, and for a moment she imagines utilitarian metal flooring, endless rows of computers, the incessant drone of the array of fans; the perfect environment for gestating intelligences. Brutus's upbringing, back when he was called Dominion, was atypical. So was hers, back when she was called LC.

There's a light in her periphery, the glint of a gun barrel --- no, too iridescent, it's biological, a pair of shining eyes --- her gun's out of its holster before she notices somebody's beaten her to it. The creature, pale and spindly, is slumped backward over the stump of a stalagmite. Its jaw hangs open, and yellow-green blood runs down its face. The bullet hole is professionally placed, right between the eyes. Six forelimbs splay out like the fingers of a discarded glove.

Two pieces of information jockey for her attention. The first: this creature is likely a juvenile of whatever species THRONE is. She imagines picking it up off the stony floor, standing it up; it'd be a head or so shorter than her. Nowhere near THRONE's estimated three-meter height. Second: the ejecta of the exit wound is still pooling under its head. Scavengers have yet to reincorporate it into the food chain; it has not yet rotted into undifferentiated biological slurry. This thing died recently; whoever shot it is still here. Hand on her holster, she dims her lamp and leaves the dead behind.

She supposes it's lucky she met Brutus. Lucky she killed her past self to break him out. Otherwise, she'd have had no future but academia, and her success would have remained tied to him --- Latimer -- Dr. Hallow. Inventor of flash-etching. Responsible for the suffering of untold thousands. Her first boss, and the first man she ever loved. Better for everyone that he's gone.

Asphodel is probably still reading up in the Slumbering Fury. Is she worried? She'd have no reason to be; what is Selene to her but a captor? Half-forgotten physics lectures flit through her head --- the unknown variable in superposition, the observer's action that resolves it --- and she blinks as another fused mating pair of insects flies through the beam of her light. No, not a mating pair --- a mating trio, fused in strange trefoil shape. Biology was never her strong suit, much less xenobiology. She has no idea if the three are viable. She's not optimistic.

The high roof of the cave closes in; she's in another tunnel that twists in on itself and spirals downward. Bunched inward to avoid scraping the walls, she follows the winding path. Several meters in, she realizes she can't hear her footsteps. She looks down; the cavern floor is covered in moss. It's gotten warmer and more humid without her realizing it. She imagines it as the breath of some massive beast before dismissing the idea. Heat from whatever reaction sustains the blue flame high above, perhaps. She slows, draws her handgun, creeps downward --- combat in tight spaces was never her specialty; if she runs into THRONE...

They fly out of the beam almost as quickly as they flew into it. She rounds a corner, gun raised, and stops. Her arm goes slack. Rusted steel blocks her path; there's a large door built into the wall of the tunnel. She blinks, briefly convinced the fungal infection is terminal, that this is some form of dying hallucination--- but no, she raises a hand to touch it. She can't feel it through the gauntlet, but it's solid. Smooth, aside from the patches of rust and the seam down the middle where it opens. There's a scratched-up card reader built into the door frame, and for a moment she wishes she had brought Legion with her before dismissing the idea. Brutus's signals can't reach down here. She's only seen it off its leash once; if she had brought it out of his range, she's not sure she'd survive long enough to get to the door.

She clenches her hand into a fist, about to knock, but pauses. Whoever -- or whatever -- is on the other side of the door, she's not sure she wants them knowing about her. They could be a threat. She turns around, begins her re-ascent, unknowns diffusing across her mind. Potential views through the doorway fill her mind, each hazier than the last. A warehouse for storing unknown commodities. Another laboratory filled with yet more dead scientists. A barracks of soldiers for some unknown war. Each image flickers and fades when confronted with the ultimate question: why build that here?

She contemplates steel and how long it takes to rust. Even accounting for the ravages of humidity, that door's been around for decades, maybe longer than she's been alive. It could be abandoned --- but no, it couldn't be. Once again she comes to the corpse oozing pus-yellow brain matter. It's trivial for her to reconstruct the bullet's path, the way it must have toppled backward when shot. Whoever pulled the trigger was going further into the cave, not exiting it. They killed a creature in their way and continued through the door, she's grimly certain. The body's dead eyes stare upward, and she can't bear to meet their gaze as she walks past.

She's jolted out of her thoughts by a splash -- the water again. She watches the harsh glare of her lamp refract through it, play off its surface. She swallows. Her mouth is dry. She kneels, takes off her helmet, and drinks deep. It's bitter and earthy, chitin and petrichor. The mildew aftertaste lingers, and she stands, thirst slaked, fungal invaders in her bloodstream receiving reinforcements.

The fungal threat seethes within her, livid like an open wound, raw like reminders of every misstep she's ever made. Her involvement with Hallow, despite his crimes, the etching interfaces she wired into his AI progeny, her hand in constructing the perfect tactician... all the way back to her original sin, her rejection of the doctrines she was incubated in since birth. It all connects, traced backward by a long strand from the present moment. The lunar priesthood had sentenced LC Michaels to ritual airlock asphyxiation for some long-forgotten youthful crime, a baptismal trial he would not have survived; now, in the dark, she almost wonders if it would be better for everyone if his mother hadn't smuggled him out, if he hadn't survived long enough to become her.

"--ene? Can you hear me, Selene? Can you hear me, Selene?" Brutus's voice cuts in, repeating the same message.

"Anti-fungals." She says it louder than intended. A couple insects skitter away, startled.

"Pardon?"

"Hi." She swallows. "I love you. I'm sorry." Back to whispering. "Can you start the medisynth on some antifungals?"

"Has something happened?" There's a concerned edge to his voice. It rankles her, him putting in the effort to sound concerned.

"I think something here's infected me. I can feel it." Growing in her lungs, insinuating itself into her bloodstream, mycorrhizae tangling with circuitry---

"Your vitals are fine," he says, voice modulated in a gesture toward being comforting that Selene can only read as pitying. A moments silence, then "I cannot detect any anomalous bodies in your bloodstream. I do not believe anything here would be capable of infecting you."

"Please," she says, scared child tone to her voice. "Please, I---"

"I have already started the medisynth." Of course he has. "It should be finished by the time you return."

Of course he took her seriously. "Thank you."

"It is no trouble at all." His presence is steadying. "Please return soon."

"I'm trying my best to."

It's not long before she's pulling herself up the ladder three rungs at a time. She stumbles going through the airlock, catches herself on the wall with one hand, starts unclasping her armor with the other. Both halves of her breastplate hanging off her loosely, self-drilling cable dangling like a discarded sash, she kneels next to the medical arm. Brutus kneels beside her, the fabric of his dress bunched up --- even now, she's dimly aware of how difficult that is to simulate --- intangible hand rubbing circles on her back. Eyes closed, breathing deep, she steadies herself. She is calm enough to avoid panicking as he remotely stills her muscles, moves the arm into place, and injects broad spectrum anti-fungals into her neck.

There's a rush of chemical heat, almost a burning. The fluid --- viscous and, in Selene's mind, a livid red --- goes in slowly. The pain recedes, replaced with numbness and the awareness of his hands pinching nerve endings shut.

A trickle of blood leaks out of her neck, pooling at her collarbone. She stands, legs trembling in her greaves. "How long before it kicks in?"

"Any fungus in your system should be eradicated within five minutes."

Sitting against the wall, unbuckling and sliding off her remaining armor, Selene stares at the clock. Her hands work automatically as the seconds tick down. Plated steel formed to the shape of her body sits in a neat pile, and the five minutes expire. She breathes in. Even unconstricted by armor, the feeling hasn't passed; something is growing in her lungs, is taking root in her.

"You sure it should work?"

"I have absolute certainty."

Unknown afflictions sit in another superposition. Augmentation rejection syndrome, perhaps, or some allergy. The consequences of a lax exercise regimen, or breathing recycled air, or a life of---

There's footsteps on the carpet. Selene turns her head, blinking as she gets to her feet.

Asphodel's staring at her neck. "What happened?" Her eyes trace the flow of the blood from the injection site to where it stains her collar. A glance back up at her face. "Did you get hurt?"

Selene looks away, waves off the concern. "No, no, I'm fine. See?" She wipes the blood away; it isn't replaced. "I'm not bleeding anymore."

"Good, good." She's not making eye contact --- she seems preoccupied.

Selene has begun to ask if she's okay when she closes the distance.

"What are--?" Combat scenarios and escape routes snake their way through her mind, plans for move and countermove, the future unknown until observed---

Asphodel gets up on the tips of her toes.

"I missed you."

The wave function collapses. Asphodel runs her hands up and down Selene's back. The kiss doesn't last long. She blinks as it ends.

"Why--?"

"I just said. I missed you," she says. "Your mouth is cold."

She turns to leave. Selene reaches out a hand, retracts it. The door to the guest room closes with a soft hiss. The moment lingers like the taste. Earthy. Strangely bitter. She wipes her lip with her thumb absentmindedly. The anti-fungals are finally working.

"Interesting," Brutus says behind her.

"Is it?" She turns to look at him. "Are you jealous?"

"I would prefer if you were not smiling while asking that question."

"Am I?" She is; she blanks her face appropriately. "I'm sorry."

"I appreciate the apology," he says, hands clasped behind his back, head at a feline tilt, "and no, I am not."

Later, sitting at her desk, she asks, "What was so interesting?" Polygonal maps of the cavern, sketched out over an hour's worth of arcane key commands, extend across her screen.

He ignores the question. "There was a door at the back of the cave?"

"Oh," she says, zooming in on it. "I forgot to mention it. I was..." The tightness in her chest returns for a moment. "...distracted." The taste still lingers. "No text or symbols on it. Rusted steel, but sturdy. Couldn't get it open."

"Do you believe it is related to the facility we have been investigating?"

"The facility was only built a couple months ago, right? The door looked too old to have been built then."

Brutus is silent, projected eyes unblinking. Then, "That facility is the first known construction on this planet."

"It's tricky, right?" Selene sighs, leaning back in her chair. "I can't figure it out. The tangle leads nowhere." No, that's not quite correct -- it leads somewhere just out of her grasp. There are fuzzy outlines in her periphery, but the full shape eludes her.

"Strictly speaking, we do not need to know the purpose of the door," he says. "It would be satisfying to know, but we were not sent here to answer every question about this planet."

"Mm." She closes her eyes. "Maybe it'd get us closer to finding THRONE if we knew, though."

"You did not find it in the cave, correct?"

"No, it wasn't there. Found a dead juvenile of its species, but no sign of THRONE itself."

"It was dead?"

"Yeah, it was shot." Repeating that fact reminds her just how much she doesn't know. She feels very small. "Probably by whoever's behind that door."

Again he's silent for a moment. "Are you certain that is what happened?"

She opens one eye, looks at his impassive projection. "I know what a bullet to the brain looks like, Brutus."

"My apologies for doubting you." Sincerity creeps into his voice. "I do not intend to insult your intelligence."

"It's fine." She idly pans over the map. The facts rot away into undifferentiated mush in her mind. She sighs and powers off her terminal. "Are you sure you aren't jealous?"

"I have encouraged you to explore outside companionship several times, Selene. I can recite the conversations we had, if you require proof." The level monotone has returned. "It is simply concerning to see you so infatuated over a kiss from our prime and only suspect."

She stares at him. "I am not infatuated with her."

"I have lived with you for a decade, and your body language is unsubtle. You do not have to lie for my sake."

"I'm not lying." The words come automatically, and she pauses after saying it, unsure if it's true. Results: inconclusive. "I wouldn't lie to you."

Brutus is silent. She's not the only one who's transparent --- she can tell when he's weighing his options. Then, "If you had to make a bet for your life, would you bet that THRONE is or is not Asphodel Verrine?"

"What?"

His voice is firmer as he repeats. "If you had to make a bet for your life, would you bet that THRONE is or is not Asphodel Verrine?" She opens her mouth to protest, but he preempts her. "Please. I would appreciate an answer."

Breathe in, breathe out. "I'd bet on it being her."

"You do not sound certain."

"I'm not going to kill her on circumstantial evidence," she says, getting to her feet. "And I'm not convinced I want THRONE dead, either."

"Why? Selene, it is responsible for the deaths of at least five people, possibly six. What is the root of this hesitation?"

"You saw that cage. You saw that enclosure. I think of it in there, and..."

If he recognizes how that sentence ends, he doesn't show it. "I see."

Selene leans against the wall, arms crossed. "So maybe they had it coming."

"Selene," he says, voice lowered, tone filled with artificial matrix-product kindness. "I believe your sympathy is letting THRONE take advantage of you. What other reason would Asphodel have to kiss you, given that you are essentially her captor?"

She doesn't respond; she stares at the hologram in silence.

"Did you believe that kiss was genuine? It was transparent manipulation, an attempt to either convince you it is human or earn a stay of execution. Either way, it was an attempt to break free to somewhere it could wreak further havoc."

"Of course you'd say that." The words are out before she can think about it; once she realizes what she's said, she blanches as much as her cyanotic skin can. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean by that?" he asks, head tilted, eyes alight, voice pointedly monotone.

She can't answer; the words would come out covered in ice, the crystals would lacerate her throat, she'd drown in her own blood. "I'm sorry."

"I am not an unfeeling automaton, Selene. You know this, or have professed to have known it. You have a symbol on that knowledge on your finger."

She rubs the scar coiled around her left ring finger with her thumb. "That wasn't..." She closes her eyes. Misgivings on the nature of inorganic emotion could maybe be forgiven. To admit to her true meaning --- of course you'd say that, you're military hardware --- would be something else entirely. "I'm sorry," she says, weakly.

His avatar stands, motionless. "You should sleep," he says, and the softness in his tone gives her the creeping awareness that he figured it out, can see right through her. "You have had a difficult day."

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I should."

A few minutes later, when the lights are off and she's lying in bed, she says, "I'm sorry."

"I appreciate the apology." She can't tell if he's forgiven her. "We can discuss THRONE and our mission tomorrow. I have ideas I would like to suggest. For now, you need sleep more than anything."

She doesn't sleep well that night.

#triple helix pitching forward

0 notes

miraefmd · 2 years

Text

— next level.

date: early november word count: 473 words. summary: mirae considers what her next career step is. notes: -

selene’s debut had been explosive. everyone has tuned in to see what bang sunyoung had created and they’d like it enough to hold the newly revealed act steady at the top of the charts. they’d been granted music show wins in record-breaking speed and the rare gift of hurdling over rookie of the year awards straight to a daesang for song of the year.

success isn’t foreign to mirae, even if she’s been told she works like it is. from some perspectives, success had been handed to her on a silver platter and, as such, unaffected aloofness is expected from her. some still perceive her to have such a quality on mere expectation alone.

for all she’s painted in strokes of effortlessly confident, enviable ‘cool girl’, un-wanting to try is one thing she isn’t.

she’s starkly aware of how critical the current moment in her life is. she’s watched squid game’s achievements almost religiously. there’s alerts set on her phone for any big news that comes out under squid game’s topic and she’s been playing the social media game so as not to waste the influx of millions of new followers to her instagram. if the spotlight from squid game alone weren’t enough, gashina has only made it that much brighter domestically.

it’s a new type of pressure she’s never really felt before from any of her individual acting endeavors or modeling, that it’s on her whether she flies or falls from here. there’s been meeting after meeting with management and a&r about what the next steps are and they’ve only grown in number since the mid-september drop of squid game. with her next drama postponed, it’s been script after script sent her way — more than ever before now that the chance of casting her means the hope of some of squid game’s attention rubbing off on her next project — and auditions that for the most part haven’t felt like the next right step. a&r makes a point of how global music can go. it’s easier to capitalize on the global music market and build her profile from there, they claim. gashina’s well-loved by global k-pop fans, so if they aim for a more general public with an english-language single, she has a lot of potential. in the meetings, she nods in silent agreement, but calculates in her head how to be seen as a multi-hyphenate instead of a one-hit wonder.

she’d once worried about being cornered into the label of only being an actor, but now there are forces in all directions saying which next step is the best, and none of the opinions seem to overlap well enough to blend them together into some masterful chess move of her own.

the clock is ticking on her chance and a decision has to be made before making one becomes pointless.

#* | solos.#* | character development.

0 notes

stuffmyfriendssay · 2 years

Text

dead since the beginning - chapter 2

The second part of a multi-part thing? By me? Will wonders ever cease? I other news I had a great day today so this is probably a mess, but I'm riding the high so I'll worry about that later.

Chapter summary:

“Get Selene out and then run.” Eris had already turned to face the crowd of guards behind them, “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

And just like that, the legendary superhero version of Eris, the one he had been hoping to be saved by, appeared. Like in a movie, like a horrific, hyper-realistic movie, he heard a loud, grinding click, and, moments later, Eris’ hands were free. It would have been nice to go without the view of her thumb hanging out of pace, of the patches of missing–torn off–skin, but he was glad she was out.

It would really, really suck if she did that to his hands, though.

With another twist to her thumb, the click repeated, a sound more felt than heard. She moved towards him in the semi-darkness and he shuddered. Peering at the binding on his wrists, she twisted them this way and that, before sighing and moving away. James let out a breath of relief. No dislocated thumb for him, thank you very much.

Silently, she stalked to the door of their cell and stuck her arm through the bars. When she came back, she had a tiny yet wicked looking sliver of metal between her bloody fingers.

Silently, she motioned for him to turn around. He hoped his hands weren’t shaking too much, or at least that she wouldn’t cut him too badly if they were. Before he had even acknowledged the pressure of her hands against his, the ropes were slack around his wrists and Eris had gone back to the door.

Silently, she squatted in front of the handle, reaching to the lock on the other side, picking it blindly. She steadily grew less silent as she worked, hissing in frustration as her blood-slicked hands slipped on the improvised ‘pick’ again and again and again. One hiss came louder than the other. Fresh blood dripped onto the floor.

It took a few minutes, but, with a quiet click, the door swung open. The sound it made as it swung, however, wasn’t even in the same universe as ‘quiet’. If no one had been coming to check on them before, they certainly were now.

As James watched, Eris stood back from the door, stock still. She stared at it for a count of three before breathing once, heavily, and shrugging. The next time he blinked, they were own three corridors and the door was long forgotten.

The fear that the noise had brought him? Not so much.

James was glad he wasn’t alone as he followed Eris down a seemingly endless warren of turns. More than once, they came across guards. Mostly voices around corners. Each time, Eris would push him between her and the wall, holding her tiny piece of metal in front of them like a knife. Something about the set of her shoulders and the half-feral wideness of her gaze, made the makeshift shiv seem like it could actually work as a weapon.

Something made him think that anything could be a weapon in her hands.

“” “” “” “” “” “”

“How do you know where to go?” he whispered. They were crouched just out of sight of a pair of guards, whose animated voices carried the news of a fight from the night before. At first it seemed like any other conversation about wrestling or MMA, but the more he listened, the more little twinges in their words seemed out of place.

Eris had gone stiff in front of him. He repeated his question, “Eris. Are you listening?”

She didn’t respond.

It was becoming increasingly clear that the guards were talking about an underground fight ring. An illegal one. An illegal, very unethical underground fight ring. Prisoners, like him and Eris, forced to fight to the death for their entertainment. Just another reason to get the fuck out of this place. Just another reason to check they were going the right direction.

“Are you okay? Eris?” He nudged her gently in the shoulder and she flinched. Hard. Flattening herself against the wall, she took his wrist in a bruising grip and breathed slowly. Deliberately. Her eyes were wide open but flicking back and forth, staring in blind fear at something he couldn’t see.

The sound of the guards’ voices grew distant, and Eris seemed to come back to her senses.

“I’m good.” She shook herself out, standing again. Glancing at his wrist, and her hand clamped vice-like around it still, she let go, apologising, “Sorry. I’m good now. That was just… yeah.”

James decided quickly that he didn’t want to know. If it had made Eris this rattled… thought she wasn’t exactly having the best of days to begin with.

“It’s okay,” he said, even though it wasn’t at all, “It’s okay.” He paused. “How do you know we’re going in the right direction?”

“Selene. I don’t know if we’re going towards an exit, but we’re going in the right direction to get to her. Anything else doesn’t matter until then.” She glanced at him as if for confirmation, as if she was worried he would want to get himself out first.

“Of course.” The bond. That made sense. “Is she… is she okay?”

Eris didn’t respond,staring off down another identical corridor. The new pace was punishing. He didn’t know if it was better or worse that she likely meant it for herself rather than him. He didn’t know how much more punishment either of them could take in this condition.

And call him a cynic, but that seemed like a ‘no’.

How much pain was she in right now? How much pain was Eris in? He decided it was another thing he didn’t need to know.

They walked for what seemed to James like hours. Every corridor was identical to the last, every encounter with guards equally heart-stopping. Thankfully most only resulted in cramped calves from crouching.

One didn’t, though. One left slightly more than a cramp. Not for James, of course. Eris had decided to get him out in one piece, so that’s what was going to happen.

Consequences be damned.

He had seen her fight before, and whatever this was with the guard it was definitely not her fighting, not properly. It had always been brutal, always blunt and efficient and forceful. He had never seen her at the full extent of her skill, either, but she was always a thousand times better than this.

It looked horrible. She jerked through the motions, stumbling around the space. She ended the fight with an elbow drilled into the side of the guard’s head. The momentum took her to the floor along with him.

She always seemed to ignore the consequences to herself.

Panting raggedly, swaying on the spot, she tried to grin at him. It looked like a grimace. James was glad the guard hadn’t been a good fighter, glad the fight hadn’t demanded more from her.

He wasn’t sure she had anything left to give.

“” “” “” “” “” “”

They rounded a corner and met with a wall of blood.

It wasn’t a room so much as a wider section of corridor. Instruments of torture covered the walls, well-used and well-maintained, and half were coated in blood where they hung. A table stood in the middle of the space, the epicentre of destruction. More blood coated its surface. He stood frozen, half processing and half already repressing all of this into some dark corner where it would never be found again, when something brushed past him.

He started. The figure had moved straight to the centre of the space, muttering in a low, repetitive way. It was soothing, he supposed. The figure, Eris, probably, leaned over the table. It dripped blood. She fiddled with something on one side of the table, then the other, then two corners.

She flew back suddenly, two arms around her neck. James wondered distantly if his friend was being choked to death. It took a disturbing amount of time to realise that the arms belonged to Selene, that she had been the bloodied thing on the table. It took longer to realise she wasn’t strangling Eris.

His vision cleared a little at the sight of the girls hugging. They were crying too, sobbing without restraint into each other’s blood-stained shoulders. Quickly, though (disciplined), they moved apart. Wiped tears and sweat and blood out of their eyes and moved on.

They’ve done this before, James thought, relieved. Mounting horror slowly replaced the relief.

They’ve done this before.

“” “” “” “” “” “”

James could literally see an ‘exit’ sign on a hatch when the guards caught up to them.

He froze, once again, vision clouded over with imagined or remembered blood. Selene’s weight, deposited heavily on his shoulder, broke him out of his reverie. She had walked under her own power at first, but as the walk had dragged on, she had weakened, and Eris was left to half-carry her.

“What?” he asked, eloquently.

“I can’t carry her and get rid of these guys at the same time.”

“Huh?” Again, James, wow. Very speaking, much English.

“Get Selene out and then run.” Eris had already turned to face the crowd of guards behind them, “I’ll be right behind you.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but a groan from Selene cut him off. He didn’t have to like it–and he didn’t, his friend was about to take another beating for him–but Eris was right. Getting Selene out was what mattered. He dragged her as fast as he could to the ladder, pushing her up. He hoped he was exacerbating anything. He liked those sounds she was making even less than he liked Eris’ ‘plan’.

It took an age to reach the top of that ladder, to touch the sign that read ‘exit’ or ‘salvation’ or maybe just ‘it’s finally over’. Selene was in bad shape, too bad to carry herself upwards, but hopefully, hopefully good enough to walk once outside, hopefully okay enough. He shoved her, shaking, faster. He just needed to get out, get her out.

Eris was right behind them.

He hadn’t heard the sound of a fight, though. Shouting, sure, but no cries of pain, no thuds or crashes. He glanced over his shoulder.

She was just kneeling there. Hands behind her head. A picture started forming in his mind. She must have given herself up for them. Said they could have her if they let him and Selene go. Her mouth was moving, and she was looking him dead in the eye, but she wasn’t talking to him. It might be the first time he had ever seen such strong fear and relief on someone’s face at the same time.

He should’ve known she would do something like this.

“Eris!” She startled at the sound of his voice, as if she hadn’t really been seeing him before at all. “What are you doing? You said you were right behind us!”

She stared back at him for a second. Then at the guards edging warily past on either side of her. Then back at him. The relief in her eyes broke, fear and doubt and apology replacing it.

The guards started rushing past her, towards him and Selene on the ladder. She shouted in protest. He wasn’t surprised they had gone back on their word, and Eris likely wasn’t either, but she did not look happy.

And she wasn’t about to let them get taken back too.

She spun in place, leg trailing out behind her in an arc, taking a pile of guard straight to the floor. Her arms followed as she sprang to her feet, elbows out, aiming at throats and temples. For one glorious moment, it seemed like she really could do it.

But fatigue dragged her movements. She looked like she’d been through this fight ten times already, blood streaming down her hands and face. There were too many for any one person to fight alone.

He caught her eye again as she went down, imploring him to do what she had said, damn the consequences. Get Selene out. He felt bile rise in his throat, but it took less than a breath for him to turn his back on her, pulling at the handle of the hatch.

The sounds of the fight filled his ears now, grunts and shouts and impact after impact after impact. All hitting Eris. It was a brutalisation, really. A massacre, not a fight.

He had to get out, so that he could come back and get Eris out. This couldn’t be for nothing. He wouldn’t let it.

The twins couldn’t forcefully take pain through the bond, not like Eris could. He knew she wouldn’t push any of it onto them.

He glanced back and she wasn’t even trying to get back up now, just curling, barely visible under a sea of bodies, trying to protect her head as they kicked her and kicked her and kicked her and-

The hatch swung heavily open above him and all of a sudden he was pushing, screaming and crying, but heaving Selene out as fast as he could, he was pulling himself after her, yelling at her to run, not to wait, to get far away, he was coming.

He didn’t say anything about Eris. He was sickeningly glad she was too out of it to ask/

He got his elbows up onto the edge of the opening. Suddenly, he felt a hand around his ankle. He kicked it off, crawling up further, but two more hands appeared. They were strong, and pulling, and if Eris couldn’t fight these guys off, how the hell was he supposed to.

He really tried, though, honestly, he did, but Eris wasn’t the only one who was tired, and Selene couldn’t help him in her condition. Shouldn’t help him. Should be running already.

So he told her as much. Told her to run. And she looked at the guards, and she met his gaze, determined, more solid than he expected, and nodded.

She left.

He let himself be pulled down by the hands. He dragged the hatch shut behind him, turning the handle to re-engage the lock. All she needed was time to get away and get the others. A little time to get help.

He could get her that time. He only hoped it was long enough.

Eris would have to wait, but help would come. They could get through it. Together. They had each other, that was all that mattered now.

With his escape attempt over, he gave in to the hands and gravity and sagged to the floor. They put actual cuffs around his wrists this time, not rope. They dragged him away from Eris, who was limp in the guards’ grasp.

Away from her.

“Eris!” They could not be separated. He could not get through this if they were together, but if they were apart… He struggled against their hands now, but Eris didn’t react to his voice, and he couldn’t get free.

He was pulled around a corner, and Eris fell out of his sight.

“” “” “” “” “” “”

She raised her head slowly. A voice came from somewhere as if underwater, and she was almost certain it was saying her name.

James, maybe.

Hopefully not. He should be gone. She hoped he was gone. Hoped she was alone.

But she wasn’t. Through blurred vision, she watched as he was forced away from her, down another passage, back into the bowels of the building. Some thin thread inside her snapped. He hadn’t made it out. But Selene wasn’t with him, or with the guards. She had to have escaped.

The hands surrounding her started dragging her away from him. She didn’t fight them. It would be pointless to do so. She may as well say her strength for later.

Eris had told him they were getting out. And now that that little thread holding her instincts in check had been severed?

Well, now there was nothing standing in her way.