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weeping-petals · 4 years

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A Ticking Heart

Word Count - 2,597

This is not how the game was meant to end.

The lone doorway into the Crystal Temple was a portal, which led to the varied chambers of the individual Crystal Gems. Each room had a different meaning to the gem which inhabited it, and each room served as a sanctuary from the world outside. A place to store junk, a place to organize swords, a safe haven for the bubbled corrupt gems.

Marble pillars and white stone sculpted the inner walls, and a spiral slope curved within the center point of the chamber. Across the dolomite wound parched vines, shriveled petals of forget-me-nots and hibiscus. At the center of the spiral pathway, a set of three dried fountains stood.

About five meters above the fountains placement, an octagonal platform hovered. The surface was marred with fractures, scorch marks, and debris. A set of six pillars stood at one point of eight corners. A soft, peach glow emitted from a band in the pillars upper rim.

“Nine combatants,” Spinel growled. She stood on the center of the platform, fists clenched at her sides and body wound tight. “Advanced level.”

At once, the computers voice droned out, “It is my obligation to warn you, this is a high-risk scenario.”

“Just do it,” Spinel snapped. “Don’t ask me again.”

Five pillars upon the platform trembled. Stone reshaped and coiled down, the blocky form became streamlined and vaguely humanoid, aside from dolomites being predominantly mineral. Below on the floor, four additional pillars unwound off their moorings. In each animated statue’s grasp, a sword, a spear, an axe, or a club reformed.

“Begin,” the disembodied tenure of the computer rasped.

On the ground, the four statues converged on the outer walls of the chamber and began climbing. Meanwhile, on the platform, the five golems barreled onto Spinel’s diminutive shape.

In a flash, Spinel was gone. The golems recalculated, wrenching in the direction movement was detected. One managed to grab Spinel by the boot, while Spinel was reeling over to the spiral path that encircled the chamber.

“What does that mean?” Pearl asked.

“I don’t get it,” she muttered.

Spinel kicked her free leg to the ground, and wrung her body tight. Her free foot kicked the golem in the face, and she flipped backwards. By then, two others came upon her with weapons raised. She evaded in classic fashion, but rather retreat backwards and build momentum, she hurtled at the two statues. Her entire body looped around both, drawing the weapon arms up to facial readers. With a tight constriction, the statues slammed together. The golem from before recovered and closed in for retaliation, but Spinel was already tumbling away. She returned with a punch, expanding her fist and smashing into the golems side with velocity budding. The golem was nowhere near the edge of the platform, but still went barreling to the side uncontrolled, and toppled off.

“There must be another way!” Pearl became panicked.

“You’re looking into this wrong!” Spinel wrapped her hands around her face. “This is wrong. It has to be!”

Rose Quartz assured them, she had done everything she could. There was no loophole. There was only one way.

The four golems leapt onto the platform and raised weapons. Each kept out of the others way, but there was no team coordination. But the confusion and dislocation was disorientating, and a challenge to follow. It was her achilles heel, a plot twisting she was not immune to.

If she continued to move her body, glide through punching and swiping at the stones, use their girth against them, she had a chance. If they caught her, managed to detain two or more limbs, that would be her downfall. She had to keep moving, never slow and never stall.

One arm leeched out through an opening, snagging the edge of the spiral pathway. Her other arm took a golem, and she reeled in her limbs. She cast the stone warrior off the side, watched it plummet to its demise. She continued outward, swept far out from the platform and zoomed back in on the rebound.

One golem raised an axe, for what would have devastated her physical form, if Spinel had not shot her legs outward. The collision alone would have dissolved her form, but her legs coiled into springs against the golem and she knocked it back into another assailant. Both cracked, the one at the rear crumbled into bits.

“What are we supposed to do?” “You can’t do this!” “It can’t work!” “We’ll come up with another way.”

“Don’t do this!”

Spinel lost track of where she was, what she was doing. Another golem splint under a powerful barrage of her fists, while she stood upon the faux warrior. Three were converging, weapons raised, two others provided a fallback. The long shadows melted across Spinel’s magenta colors, blotting out the light flittering through her gem.

Instinctively, she reached for her gem and drew forth a weapon.

A whizzing blur of motion sawed out of the center, from amongst the stone warriors. Spinel alit on the shoulder of one, for the barest of a second, before zipping into a line of three. Her blade clashed with a club, causing her limbs to recoil. She kicked outward, and amid the motion, flipped into a sideways blur. While balanced upside down, a lone foot supporting her stance, she performed another wild twirl of her weapon. The blow knocked the legs out from beneath the golem, she sprang upon the back and delivered the fatal pierce to its spine. Two more statues careened in. She dispatched them, utilizing wild sweeping blows of her blade. Unleashing devastation upon the mindless golems, coming in at droves rather than pace and tact.

“Initiate new training,” she announced. The duel blade she spun around her waist and then her upper arm. “Nine combatants. Advanced.”

New pillars were in the process of sliding upward into their slots, replacing the original columns. When Spinel gave the command, the peach glimmer within the band flashed and the dolomites reshaped its structure. The faux warriors came into fashion quickly, brandishing varied weapons.

Spinel twirled the blade above her head, before leaping at the first two that approached. Her movement was always a cascade of motion, no recoil or step was without severe delivery. Golems tried to catch her off-guard, get up behind her or at the perceived blind spots. However, Spinel was always bouncing, twisting, ricocheting among the stone figures; either one golem took the blow of sneak attack, or she lassoed one into the range of another. Her weapon cut through the air, hot and bright, glittering against gleaming points of light.

Hours later, chunks of white rock and pebbles decorated the platform, beside new grooves and scars. No more demands for training exercises range out. The chamber stilled, and a hush crept through the winding pathways. Below, Spinel alit on the center peak of the fountain spout and stepped off onto the dry basin. She dumped her blade with a clang and collapsed onto the wall encircling the fountain. Though she didn’t need to breathe, she panted as if beyond exertion. One hand grasped the gem on her chest, the other held her face.

“She can’t have a baby!” Her voice reverberated off the walls. “She… CAN’T!”

“I don’t understand,” Spinel again, grumbled. At this time, Pearl was quiet and contemplative.

This was the first time in decades that Rose came to her armory. It was planned, she asked Pearl and Spinel to meet with her there. Spinel floated in the water’s surface, reminiscent of appreciating a sauna. Refined Pearl stood near the center, after pacing herself out.

Rose sat with her legs dangling over the edge of the center dais, her feet dipped into the water. She wouldn’t turn to acknowledge the two, but she did speak. Spinel couldn’t recall all of what happened, but those words struck her. “My child and I cannot exist simultaneously. A gem cannot exist without her stone. It is us. It will be her essence and identity.”

“Your child,” Pearl spoke, as if the string of words was foreign.

“That’s… not how this works,” Spinel murmured. “No. That can’t be possible! This doesn’t make sense.”

Nothing made sense on this miserable planet.

Spinel hadn’t moved in days. Her back pressed into the base of the fountain, the walls bent around her silent, impassive, everlasting. This was a place she remembered, their special place. Once upon a time, it was lush and vibrant, the fountains gushed spring water. Yet, the years crept by, and the battles wore away at her perceptions for joy. This place was nothing but a husk, a shadow of what was. An outer reflection.

“We lost everyone, for this stupid rock. They were supposed to run away. They weren’t scared. They just got angry. Why couldn’t they have left us alone. They didn’t care about her. They never cared about anyone.”

A low and anguished wheeze whistled through her words. “We only have each other. We’re all that’s left. And she wants to leave.”

Some diluted sound coursed through the emptiness. Spinel shifted, but didn’t look up. She tightened up into a smaller ball, arms and legs curled around herself. If she stayed quiet, no one would bother her. Right now, she needed to be left alone. Isolation was priceless.

“Spinel,” Rose called. “I found you.”

“Go away,” she snapped. “I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear you. Why can’t you just leave me alone!”

“We need to talk about this.” A brief swell of silence. “There isn’t much time.”

Spinel winced, and managed to tighten deeper into her tangled heap. “I don’t want to.” Nonetheless, she didn’t budge an inch when Rose Quartz crept in close and weightlessly settled beside her. Spinel was almost enraptured and drawn from her protective barrier. For some time, they sat in silence.

“Do you miss it?”

Spinel didn’t need to ask. She risked raising her eyes, to stare at the hollowed space expanding around them. “Some places, it feels almost like….” The words evaporated. She drew a breath and released it, unable to wrestle meaning from the muddled sensations. “Some days, I thought that— Nothing. Forget it.”

Rose reached a hand out and set it on Spinel’s head. “There’s a beauty in this place. In the things we’ve been forced to let go. We saved this planet, but the things that live and thrive here, still wither and die. That’s the nature of this world. We’re not a part of that process.”

Spinel inched her head up. “Do you want… that? To experience Death?”

“And creating life,” Rose insisted. “More than anything. We… our kind did terrible things, we took so much from this world. Did irreparable damage. Now we live here, though we have no other choice. But I want to do something… else, something more than existing and observing all that we preserved. I want the opportunity to leave something, someone special, behind.”

Spinel pulled away from the gentle touch. “But Home World—”

“Believe that nothing survived the attack! It’s been centuries since we’ve seen a Red Eye. The Home World warps have been deactivated and cold for longer than the rebellion. We are isolated here, from the other planets, and interconnected solar systems. Yes, Corrupted Gems are still out there, they still need to be accounted for – whether they were friend or foe. But you four, you can do that on your own. You don’t need me anymore.” She dropped her eyes from Spinel. “It’s time for you to find your own ways, now.”

Spinel scooted away, seething. The gall, to leave all of this on them! “You just can’t bear to be isolated and forgotten, on this ball of dirt, overrun with malformed gems.” She snickered nastily. “That’s funny. The bulk of the gem population left over, is nothin’ but a bunch of scattered defects, scratching at the wilds. You’re done with it. You’re gonna leave us!”

Rose stood up. “Spinel. Stop!”

“You’re gunna leave me!” She pressed a hand over her gem. “I won’t— I won’t have anyone!”

“There are other reasons why I need to do this. You and Pearl, you don’t realize it, but you’re strictly loyal to… her. To Pink.”

Spinel cackled, “So she still exists, outside of unflattering stories.”

“You deserve more. You deserve better.”

“OoooOOh! We deserve better! NOW? So, rather than hang around and fix everything we cracked, you! You!” Spinel stood and aimed a finger. “Want to run away. You bamboozled us into joining this game, and now you wanna abandon everything you made! Everything, we fought to take back! Like your colony! You wanted a colony sooOOoo badly! You didn’t hesitate to leave me, did you?!”

Rose leaned forward, patience dwindling. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Could’ve fooled me! A baby! Sounds like a SWELL idea. How clever! How useful! How neat! You won’t even be around for the lil brat!”

Rose took a breath, striving for composure. “If it were possible to be in two places at once – myself, and my gem, divided from my child – I would do it. I wouldn’t place this responsibility on my friends. Or Greg. My stars, I won’t be there for him. I won’t be there to help raise her. Or him. I have a firm grasp of the gravity of what I’m doing, and if it were possible to splint myself, halve myself, make myself less so that I and my child can exist simultaneously, I’d do it. There is so much I will leave behind, and I mourn that. There is so much I am giving up. You’re—”

“You’re giving up!” Spinel hissed, stretching and exaggerating her bodies proportions. Her voice cracked as she went on, full of momentum with no clear burnout in sight. “What about our loss? Our grief? You’re robbing us of your strength and guidance, ditchin’ all’uv us, and everything we managed to scavenge. The small fragments of a home, at long last! Then you go, and burden us with this… baby. A useless larvae, that you’re not even sure if she’ll be a viable gem!”

“Spinel, that’ll be enough!”

Spinel tugged at her pigtails. “No! It’ll never be enough for you! No matter what! You can’t stand spending another minute on this no-good backwaters dump!”

Rose grabbed Spinel’s arm. “I need you to listen, now. Listen very carefully. We’ll play a game—”

Spinel thrashed, but her strength paled in comparison to Rose. “No! No! I don’t want to play another game! I don’t want to play with you!”

“Spinel, do as I say! Here are the rules—”

“You don’t own me!” Spinel stretched her captive arm, distancing herself from Rose. “You’re not my friend! You’re not my diamond! YOU’RE! NOT! PINK!” She wound back her free arm and punched Rose. Right in the face. Stunned, Rose released Spinel and stood back, blinking.

Once released, Spinel staggered backwards and nearly tipped over the scattered ruble. She managed to connect her footing and stood, tears rolling down her cheeks. She stared up at Rose Quartz, shoulders quaking. Neither said a word, nor budged for several long minutes. Finally, Spinel hissed.

“I wish… You left me in my garden!” Spinel spun around and, coiling her legs under her, sprang high.

Rose recalled her wits and gave chase. She sprint to where Spinel last stood and rocketed upward, scouting the winding platforms for the spindly gem. No matter how she searched it was no use, Spinel was either well hidden or had abandoned her sanctuary completely.

#steven universe #steven universe fanfic #fanfiction #spinel fanfic #spinel fanfiction #spinel #rose quartz #rose quartz fanfic #crystal temple #rose fanfic #rose fanfiction #crystal gem spinel #falling out

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qorillas · 7 years

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even more gorillaz headcanons

they tried to get noodle to eat brussels sprouts when she was little and they went on a health kick. she didn’t understand what they were called and thought they were called russel sprouts. to this day brussels sprouts are referred to as russel sprouts by everyone in the band and this is just an accepted phrase now. whenever they pass the produce aisle someone inevitably yells “hey russel!” and holds up a brussels sprout when he looks over (at least, 2d and noodle do. murdoc tends to just chuck a brussels sprout at russ’s head from all the way across the aisle and then pretend it wasn’t him.)

they all love the beatles so much. they tend to play beatles songs to warm up before practice; can’t buy me love was a favorite of noodle’s when she was little because 2d would dance with her and swing her around during the instrumental part while they sang. i want to hold your hand is also a popular one because during the bridge — “and when i touch you i feel happy inside” — 2d and noodle go all fake-sentimental and dramatically sigh and swoon all over the room. usually they sing to russ and get him to clasp their hands during this part or stroke murdoc’s face dramatically (he always pushes them away but he’s laughing.) one of the first songs murdoc learned was blackbird and he tends to play it to himself in his room when he’s alone, singing quietly. he taught it to noodle when she was really young and caught him singing it and even now, sometimes they’ll sit in the studio with their guitars singing blackbird together — it’s their thing.

more under the cut!

2d is autistic and has adhd. he experiences sensory overload a lot and finds it hard to keep the thread of a conversation; the bright lights and constant barrage of questions during an interview are really overwhelming for him, which is why he so frequently spaces out, trails off or loses track of a topic in the middle of a sentence. this is also part of the reason why he tends to struggle with sarcasm and sayings (half the time he doesn’t get them, the other half of the time he gets them but just wants to mess with the interviewer because he’s a bit of a prankster.) murdoc talks so much in interviews because he knows they’re tough for 2d to sit through and he’s covering for him (and also, of course, because he loves the sound of his own voice.) because of his 8-ball fractures obscuring his irises, 2d doesn’t generally make eye contact with people either; they don’t realize it because they can’t see where his eyes are pointing anyway, which 2d appreciates. 2d also stims a lot! he likes to hum under his breath because it feels nice on his throat and vocal cords. he finds the bloopy noises that keyboards make really comforting, and part of the reason he has so many keyboards is because each keyboard has its own unique sound and he likes to collect the sounds that feel the best to him. he has a whole slew of stim toys in his desk and all over the house; a lot of his flick knives and flickcombs are actually things he uses to stim with because he likes the noises they make. he always forgets to bring them with him when he goes out, though, so he has a habit of rubbing the loose ends of his friendship bracelets between his fingers to stim instead, which is nice because since there’s always one around his wrist, he’s never without something to stim with. he plays with his fingers and winds them around microphone stands during concerts to stim as well. his special interests are zombie movies, machinery and keyboards, and he tends to infodump about the latter during rehearsals. he also has mild dyspraxia because of his autism, which is why he’s a bit clumsy and tends to struggle with balance. he flaps so much, especially when he gets excited! he has the best wiggles. [thanks to @happy2d for looking through this hc and offering some great suggestions!!!]

the reason noodle has so much traditional japanese paraphernalia decorating her room goes beyond the fact that she’s immensely proud of her cultural background. since she was essentially raised in the uk, and wasn’t able to remember her childhood in japan for a long while, she’s always felt a bit estranged from her japanese identity. even after being able to remember her early life, the fact that she was brought up in an isolated military program, and then raised in the public eye as a british celebrity means that sometimes she feels like she’s not “really” japanese. at times she feels really cut off from her japanese roots, like she doesn’t deserve to claim an identity as a japanese person, or like she doesn’t really belong in england or in japan, or anywhere at all. she surrounds herself with things from japan and decorates her room with them because it helps her compensate for these feelings and reminds her to assert her identity. if it gets really bad, she remembers something murdoc told her once when he caught her crying during an identity crisis she had at 14: “you’re not half-british and half-japanese; you’re british, full stop, and japanese, full stop. the two things don’t cancel each other out. this is coming from a guy who identifies as mexican and whose only real experiences with it are a stint in prison and a long-gone mum. anyway, it doesn’t matter what you are since you’ll always be part of gorillaz, which is more than most people in the world can say. and if they do say anything, tell ‘em to fuck off, and then kick their teeth in.”

when del was alive, he and russel had plans to get married after college and adopt a baby girl. after del died, russ was absolutely gutted; the constant ache of del’s absence and the survivor’s guilt contributed heavily to his depression and anxiety, and he was in a really low place for a long time. noodle’s arrival probably saved his life. from day one, he and del regarded her as the adoptive daughter they always planned to have, but which just came to them in an really unexpected way. del, of course, was the cool dad and russ was the rule dad, considering that del was pretty much incorporeal and couldn’t actually enforce any rules they set beyond threatening to leave a note for russel detailing exactly how bad noodle had been. noodle loved conveying messages between the two of them, actually, and would force russel to go to bed early so that she could tell del that he said hi, or wake him up from naps to tell him that del said hi back. noodle still goes with russ to visit del’s grave between phases and whenever they’re in the united states.

murdoc is actually the best at cooking out of all of them. he was left alone so often as a kid, he had to learn how to feed himself somehow. he rarely cooks anything nowadays, though; he’s too lazy to do it when he could easily use an app to deliver something right to him or just order pizza, and he doesn’t care enough about what he’s eating to expend the effort of getting all the ingredients out and cleaning up afterwards for a specific meal. he only cooks at the most random times; for example, they’ll be in the middle of a songwriting session and murdoc will have a flash of inspiration and become manic, scribbling lyrics on the nearest flat surface, grabbing his bass and suddenly dashing off to the kitchen, and return three hours later with five quiches, one of which has a lyric sheet baked into it. “it’s a bit wordy,” 2d says, “but good.” he makes better tamales than your abuelita, but only when he’s worried about someone, and he has a bad habit of passive-aggressively shoving a full plate in front of whoever he’s upset with and watching them eat with a reproving glare until he’s convinced that they’re okay. a birthday means that the special person will find a scone on a plate, sitting in their room with no explanation. 2d’s is always vaguely swan-shaped. murdoc’s laughed at them so many times for asking if it was him. “is that a fucking joke?” he says. “you don’t think i have better things to do? it’s most likely poisoned, and even worse, it was probably sitting stale in a display case all day.” actually, when they woke up, the scone was still warm.

2d’s voice is different this phase because he recently had surgery to remove some vocal nodules. he’s fine and cleared to perform in the band’s upcoming tours, but his voice is still going to be a bit raspy for a while. russel says he sounds kind of like kevin bishop. 2d says he doesn’t know who that is but as long as he doesn’t sound like damon albarn he’s fine with it.

#it's been a while lmao but i kept meaning to edit the one about 2d and couldn't find time #plus i had finals but!!! it's finally done #i might expand on the beatles one lmao i love it so much and i've been on a beatles kick recently #anyway hope y'all enjoy #mine #a happy family

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