desktopdust

[desktopdust]

River's Rebuke

“The hell were you thinking?!”

Ash flinched.  “I was…just trying to—”

The woman in front of him held up a hand.  She was tall, with deep brown skin and dreadlocks sporting various shades of green.  Straightening her emerald jacket, she rounded her desk and sat down before looking back up at him.  “You were there to gather intel.  I remember explicitly telling you not to attack.  What part of that didn’t sink in?”

Clenching his teeth, Ash said, “It wasn’t my plan!  I saw an opportunity, so I took it!  I thought the chance to take out Earl Tsuminami was worth the risk!”

“That was not your call to make!  Do you have any idea how lucky you are to be here right now, rather than digesting in a kappa’s stomach?”

He hung his head.  “Commander Willow—”

“No.  Of course you don’t.  If kappa weren’t so obsessed with their sense of manners—if Baron Kamikawa hadn’t just happened to have promised not to interfere, you’d be fish food!”  She sighed, gently massaging her temples.  “…I am glad you made it back safe.  But for fuck’s sake, Ash: you need to dial it back before you get yourself killed.”

Ash thought a moment, but no words came to mind.  He simply nodded.

“Good.”  Willow flipped open a folder on her desk.  “I want you to stay on-base for the time being.  Here: take these documents to the lab, then go get some rest.”

He took the folder and was gone in a second.  His pace then slowed dramatically, and he trudged his way down the sun-drenched stone hall, nearly missing the girl waiting at the top of the nearest staircase.  Dirty blonde hair fell in waves over her shoulders; the uniform she wore was similar in style to the Commander’s, only strawberry-colored, and she wore steel-toed boots that beat out a furious tempo as she tapped her foot.  Ash both was and wasn’t happy to see her.

“Ah…Marisol,” he said with a weak wave.  “I, uh, take it you heard how things went.”

“I did.”  Her foot went still.  A reddish-yellow flower sat in her hair, its petals slowly stiffening into points like quills on a hedgehog.  “…Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.  A little soreness, some wounded pride, but…fine.”

“What about Zoe?”

Ash raised his hand, and a flower like the one in Marisol’s hair bloomed from his wrist.  She brushed her fingers against it, tilting her head for a few seconds, and ultimately gave a satisfied nod.

“We should get her some sunlight.”

“Uh, I have to head to the lab first.”  Ash motioned with the folder.  “Commander Willow wanted me to deliver this.”

“I see.  I’ll go with you, then.”

They descended the giant stone staircase, its spiraling path completing one, two, three full loops before Ash cleared his throat.  “I did consult Zoe.  Before I…went off-plan.  Just so you know.”

The flower in Marisol’s hair rustled.  “And why do you want me to know?”

“Huh?  Well…I didn’t want you to think I put her in danger without thinking, is all.”

“Right.  Better that you put her in danger knowing full well what you were doing.”

“That’s not…”  He shook his head.  “Nevermind.”

Two, four, eight loops.  Marisol stopped and, without turning to face him, said, “You’re both so eager to take risks.  I guess that’s why you bonded.  I know you didn’t act without thinking, Ash.  But there’s so many things you forget to take into consideration.”

He continued down the stairs.  “Like what?”

Something pulled him back and spun him around—vines, two long, thin ones that had sprouted from Marisol’s flower.  She jabbed one finger forward and said, “Like what?  How about the way the rest of us would feel if you died, idiot?”

Ash tugged at one of the vines.  “It’s not like I was planning to die!”

“But you knew you could!”

“I know I messed up!  Alright?  I’m sick and tired of all of us having to hide from the kappa like this—I can’t stand leaving them in control!”

“Everyone’s sick and tired of the kappa, Ash!  That’s no excuse for you to abandon common sense!”

Vines slowly grew from Ash’s flower, trying to gently wrest him free.  “Alright!  Alright.  Okay?”

Marisol glared at him a bit more before recalling her vines.  They walked the rest of the way to the lab in silence.  A bell sounded when they opened the door, and instantly someone started yelling at them.

“What is it?!  What’s happening—are we under attack?”  A short woman in a tattered lab coat leapt from a cot in the corner of the room, brandishing an empty beaker.  “You’ll never take me alive, you turtle-faced fucks!  Let’s dance!”

“Cool it, Doc,” Ash said.  “The only one you’re gonna hurt is yourself.”

A vine grew from Marisol’s flower to smack him in the back of the head, while the girl greeted, “Good evening, doctor!  We’re terribly sorry for waking you.”

The woman squinted at them, blinked a few times, and then turned to survey the lab.  “Oh…must’ve been a dream.  I was just trying to catch up on some shut-eye until I heard back from Laverne.”

Ash rubbed his head as he stepped forward.  “Uh, yeah, she said to give you this.”

“Hm?”  Doc took the folder and began to examine the contents.  “Ah, yes, this is it!  I had some new hypotheses regarding lowering the sea level, let’s see what she thinks…”

Ash looked up at the screen on the wall, glancing over the charts and figures displayed and wondering what they all meant.  “I didn’t realize we were still trying to do that.  Will it really help that much?”

“Of course!” Doc said, tossing the folder onto a low table.  “If we can find a way to repair the damage done to the planet’s climate over the past few generations, the sea should recede, taking away the kappa’s advantage and giving us more dry land to work with!”

“Sure, but don’t they still hold sway over the weather with that demon magic or whatever?  Dry land won’t help if it doesn’t stay dry.”

“Bah, of course I’ve thought of that!  Countering the kappa’s influence on the weather is already a part of our operation.”

“So you have a plan?”

“Not yet!”

Ash sighed.  Marisol said, “I’m more concerned about the way the kappa have mutated.  They originally needed freshwater, but now that they’ve been forced to adapt to saltwater, they’ll never be as contained as they once were.”

“Yes, yes, but the first step is the most important!” Doc said.  “Now then, did you need something?”

“Uh, no,” Ash said, “just making that delivery.”

“Then shoo!  I’m very busy!  Go on, now!”

Doc ushered them out of the lab and locked the door behind them.  Once he felt he had his bearings, Ash turned to Marisol and asked, “They used to need freshwater?”

Marisol nodded.  “Mm-hm.  Historical accounts refer to kappa strictly as river spirits.  It’s thought to be the main reason why they remained endemic to Japan prior to the ocean rising.”

“Huh.  Makes sense.”

“Yeah.”  She walked back over to the staircase.  “That’s all you had to do, right?  Let’s head to the garden so Zoe and Gabriela can get some sun.”

The two flowers swayed excitedly.  Ash contemplated making a protest, but he thought better of it.

#original

[desktopdust]

True Connection Get

Zeke sat against the wall of the convention center, endlessly shuffling his deck and trying to take up as little space as possible.  People bustled over every inch of the floor, but he was only vaguely aware of them, eyes trained on the floor until a jingle called his attention to a large screen mounted nearby.  The updated tournament bracket he saw didn’t exactly lift his spirits.

So he won C block after all.  Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

The feed rapidly flicked between the players who had won the tournament’s eight blocks, giving the conqueror of C just long enough to give the camera a contemptuous grin.  Zeke grumbled as he looked back down.  He drew the card on top of his deck out of muscle memory; staring back at him was a humanoid robot with a large gear visible in its chest.  “Clockwork Banneret” was printed in glossy letters at the top.  After a few seconds, Zeke averted his gaze.

The memories were fresh and easily summoned.  He had battled his way to the semi-finals of C block, prepared to give the match his all.  When he had offered a pre-match handshake, however, his opponent had scoffed and started his opening turn.  Irksome for sure, but Zeke wouldn’t let that shake his focus; after carefully watching the way his opponent played his cards, he had gone into his turn as determined as ever.  The moment Clockwork Banneret had hit the field, the opponent had laughed.

“You actually brought that to a tournament?  What a joke.  You’re just here because you grew up on the TV show, aren’t you?”

Zeke had ignored the comment and carried on.  He had been successful in staying focused, but even then, a mere three turns later he had been soundly defeated.

“Come back with real cards next time, amateur!”

Shaking his head, Zeke returned Banneret to the deck.  He had hoped to at least clear his block—the lowest placing that would give him a trophy to take back to his local card shop—and while he wanted to be a good sport about things, he just couldn’t bring himself to let it go.

What a jerk.  Are there more jerks than usual here?  Feels that way, with how many are using those new Null Reactor cards…what’s the point of playing if you nullify every single card your opponent tries to play?

He scratched his head.

…Bah, I sound like an old man.  Maybe I’ll check the artist tables, see if that helps me clear my head.

Zeke placed his deck in the plastic box attached to his belt, and then pulled himself up onto his feet, stamping his heel a few times to wake up his leg.  He was just getting proper feeling back when someone stepped out of the crowd and jogged over to him.

“Hey, hi there!” the stranger greeted, offering his hand.  “You’re Zeke Thompson, right?  From C block?”

Tentatively, Zeke shook hands.  “Uh, yeah.  Hi.”

The stranger’s eyes lit up.  “I’m so glad I found you!  Uh, my name’s Christoph—I caught your match in the block semi-finals!”

Zeke winced.  “Ah…you saw that?  Not really my best performance, hah…”

“No, you did great!  Most players get OTK’d by Null Myrmidon decks.  You showed a lot of skill holding out like that!”

“Oh?  Um, thanks.”

“Full transparency, though: I tracked you down in the hopes of talking business.”  Christoph set down his backpack with a loud thud.  “See, I’m a Clockwork Banneret fan myself, and I was blown away when you upgraded it to Alloyed Overclock mode!  I did manage to pull a copy, but I can’t actually use it without a Soul Valence card.  So…is there any possible way I could interest you in a trade?”

Zeke blinked.  Then he chuckled.  “Huh.  I can’t remember the last time I actually traded, now that I think about it.”

“It’s a dying art.”  Christoph pulled a binder from his pack and began to flip through the pages.  “I get the appeal of just buying the cards you want, but I can’t help but find it less fun that way.  The thrill of opening packs and seeing what you get is what gives each card meaning!  Comrades drawn together by fate!”

“You’re a fan of the show too, I take it?”

“That’s why I want to play Alloyed Overclock so bad!  Asimov Junction is the peak of the whole series.”

“Yes!  You are a man of culture!  Here, let me…”  Zeke quickly sifted through his deck until he found the card in question and offered it to Christoph.  “I actually have a spare, you can just take this.”

Christoph shook his head gravely.  “Oh no, sir!  I appreciate your generosity, but this is a matter of honor: I must give you something in exchange!  And I believe I have just the thing…aha!”

He slipped one card out of his binder, and Zeke’s eyes went wide.  “A Starsteel Ingot…?!  Are you really sure?”

“Absolutely!”  Christoph grinned.  “I, uh, actually have like four of them.  But I know you as a Banneret fan can appreciate its true worth!”

“Yeah, that card was essential in the Motherboard Elimination arc…alright, you’ve got yourself a deal!”

The two of them exchanged cards, and then took a moment to marvel at their respective prizes.  Christoph said, “Thanks, man: you really made my day.  I’ve got to get going, but I’ll catch up with you later—I got your socials from your tournament profile.”

“I look forward to it!  Take care!”

Christoph vanished back into the crowd.  Zeke looked down at the Starsteel Ingot card, and after a few seconds, he smiled.

Not everyone here is a jerk.

#original

[desktopdust]

River's Rage

He broke the surface of the lake only to find more water, a cold rainstorm that felt like icy bullets shooting him full of holes.  Deep gasps let him fill his deflated lungs, and then he furiously swung his limbs to propel himself towards the shore—or so he hoped, unable to see much of anything in the darkness.  Soon he could feel his feet brushing against the sloping ground beneath the lake.  He kept going until he could stand with the water reaching chest-level, at which point he allowed himself one short moment to rest his sore body.  Upon clearing his eyes, however, he cursed himself for thinking he’d have even that long.

It stood ahead on the shore, fixing its eerie yellow eyes on him, just waiting, watching him.  When it realized he was watching back, it chuckled and rose to its full height.  Its limbs were long and lanky, but swelled with powerful, compact muscle at every movement.  Webbed claws glinted in what little light pierced the clouds.  Those eerie, horrible yellow eyes stared down a razor-sharp beak, and above them, at the top of its skull, was a wide, deep crater almost like a bowl, edged with small flaps of hair.  It bowed, and water spilled out of the cranial depression.  The rain immediately started to refill it as the creature straightened its back.

“Good evening, dear fellow!”  Its voice was hoarse yet piercing, every carefully chosen word dripping with malice.  “I must admit, I feared you were done for when ol’ Mudsy sent the reaperfish after you, but it seems I worried for naught!  Truly remarkable!”

He didn’t dare move an inch, not forward nor back.  “Great, another one.  Just tell me why you’re here.”

It cocked its head.  “Beg pardon?  I merely thought we should be properly introduced to one another.”  Holding its arms wide, its beak twisted into a deep, dark grin.  “Lord Kamikawa Getsumaru, Baron of the Western Antarctic Delta, at your service.  And what is your name, my friend?”

He thrust one hand forward.  A reddish-yellow flower bloomed on his wrist, and from it, a vine grew rapidly to shoot across the gap at Kamikawa.  The creature dodged, diving into the lake, and in a fraction of a second it was behind him.  For a moment, he froze.

“Ah yes, your scorch-wither primrose—quite lovely, now that I look at it more closely.  You must perform an exemplary job in caring for it.”

Hoping to catch it off-guard, he whirled about as the vine was retracting.  Kamikawa vanished as soon as he made the slightest movement.

“Quah hah hah!” it laughed, popping up out of the water a few yards away.  “Don’t strain yourself, child—surely you know a land-dweller like you could never best a kappa in aquatic combat, no?”

Not letting himself freeze this time, he dashed onto the shore, while Kamikawa simply moved to the lake’s edge and shook its head.

“Really now, must you be so difficult?  All I’ve done is ask your name.”

“All you’ve done…?”  The primrose glowed faintly as he ground his teeth.  “You bastards have done plenty!  Destroyed our homes, slaughtered our people, enslaved the survivors…what makes you think this planet belongs to you?”

Kamikawa sighed.  “Yes, how silly of us to seize ownership of the planet, because you humans were doing such a good job taking care of it.  Might I remind you who it was that raised the sea level so high in the first place, hm?  Why, if we hadn’t stopped you, I doubt you’d have any land at all left to stand on!”

“What, should we thank you?!”

“Well, it would certainly be more mannerly than whatever this is.”

Snarling, he made a flourish.  More vines grew from his primrose, this time shaping into a bow that he drew back as an arrow formed in its notch.  Kamikawa came onto land as he fired.  Stepping out of the arrow’s path was easy, but shock finally crossed its face when the arrow exploded mid-flight, littering the shore with thorny caltrops that were already growing roots.  A volley of ten arrows came next, forcing Kamikawa to dodge—placing its foot directly upon one of the caltrops.  The puncture wound was painful, but the pain only truly blossomed when the plant started rapidly siphoning the moisture out of the kappa’s body.  Its howl was horrific.

“Gotcha!”  The human ran forward, his primrose now forming a thorned glove around his fist.  “Turn to dust!”

He aimed a haymaker at the kappa.  It was close, but Kamikawa pulled out of the way, and before he knew what was happening he was facedown in the mud.

“Con…found it!”  Kamikawa yanked its leg free.  Grabbing its foe by the arm, it hoisted him into the air and knocked the wind out of him, his primrose wilting slightly as he groaned.  “How infuriating you are!”

He shut his eyes, waiting for what came next.

“Hrrr…I suppose it’s enough that I asked for your name, even if you refused to answer.  Alright then, land-dweller: time for you to run on home.”

His eyes opened on their own.  “…Huh?  You’re…not going to—"

“Eat you?  No, much as I’d like to; Mudsy was quite clear I was not to interfere in his little chase, and it would be quite poor manners to break my word, now wouldn’t it?  You’ve escaped him, so escape you shall.  However.”

It drew close to his face, eerie eyes glowing, hideous grin plastered across its beak.

“Don’t think I won’t remember you.  Should we happen to meet again, my obligation will have long expired, leaving no reason for me not to gut you on the spot.  ‘Til then!”

#original

[desktopdust]

Prescription

“Sir, please reconsider: that equipment could help us save lives!”

*Click*

“…Sir?”

Jian’s frustration rippled out of her as a guttural groan.  Sluggishly, she raised her coffee to her lips to drink, only to half spit it out upon discovering how cold it was.

“Wh—I just made this!”

A voice from the next cubicle said, “You’ve been on the phone for an hour, Jian.”

The clock confirmed their claim.  Once this fully processed, Jian sighed and set the cup back down.  “…Have any new patients come in?”

A clipboard jumped over the cubicle wall.  “Richardson found someone on his way in.  You’re welcome to take a look, but even at a glance she seems preeeeeetty banged up.”

Jian was already on her way, closely inspecting the board as she went; the other staff took care to keep her path clear.  She looked up to verify the room number and quietly cleared her throat as she stepped inside.

“Good morning, Miss…Tamzen.”

There was no reply.  The patient in-question (“Tamzen”, if the ID found on her was to be believed) lay sprawled out on the examination table, face obscured by her frayed mop of blue hair.  Wires wriggled beneath a cut in her leg, though the more obvious sign of her cybernetics would be her detached arm lying next to her.  Jian pursed her lips and glanced back at the clipboard.

She’s been unconscious for at least…35 minutes, according to Richardson.  Vitals are stable, but he noted copious surface-level damage to her implants, and given how long she’s been out it’s reasonable to assume there’s internal damage as well.  Where to begin…

The detached prosthetic arm was closest to her.  She first uncurled the fingers to examine the palm, then grabbed the wrist and tried to bend the limb.  It did bend…in the wrong direction.  Jian grimaced.  Tucking the clipboard under her own arm, she took the prosthetic in both hands and carefully lifted it.  She stopped when she noticed a sparking red eye staring out of the frayed blue mop.

Tamzen pushed herself into a sitting position in a flash, scurrying back to the far edge of the table.  “Who…where a--?!  Get…that…!”

Jian kept eye contact.  Only half of Tamzen’s right iris was red, with scratchy green coloring still coating the rest; sparks continued to pop from the corner of the eye socket at random intervals.  After setting the prosthetic back down, Jian took a slow step back and spoke in a calm, level voice: “It’s alright.  You’re safe here.  There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Yeah right!”  Tamzen snatched up her arm and shoved it back into place.  “If you nabbed me hoping for parts to sell, tough—”  She paused as her arm fell off with a loud clatter.  “…you won’t get much!”

Jian eased into a chair against the wall.  “This is a public clinic.  One of our doctors found you in that alleyway and brought you in for treatment.”

Tamzen’s eyes darted back and forth.

“My name is Jian.  I’m a medical roboticist—my doctorate is hanging right there.”

With great reluctance, Tamzen took a moment to examine the framed degree on the wall.  The sparks leaping from her eye became less frequent.  “…Well…still.  No point in wasting your time, doc: I don’t have insurance.”

“That’s fine.”

“…Huh?”

Jian smiled.  “You don’t need insurance here.  Our goal is to help whoever needs help, nothing more, nothing less.”

Tamzen just stared at her.

“Please, let me help you.  That’s all I want.”

Slowly, very slowly, Tamzen moved back to the center of the table.  Jian was just as slow in rising and approaching her.  Tamzen watched her closely as she resumed her examination.

“Your name is Tamzen, correct?  That’s what it said on your ID.”

“…Tam.”

“Tam.  I haven’t seen this model of prosthetic in a few years.  It’s actually in very good condition all things considered.”

She heard Tam grumble quietly.  “Again, no insurance.  I haven’t been able to afford new parts in a long time.”

Jian nodded as she set the arm down.  Pointing to Tam’s side, she asked, “May I take a look?”

Tam fidgeted for a moment before rolling up the hem of her shirt.  Jian lightly ran a hand over her side until she found and unsealed the access panel she was looking for.  The scent of smoke wafted into her face as she peered inside Tam’s torso: her silicone ribs were charred almost entirely black, and three of her titanium vertebrae showed signs of severe corrosion.  Nearly every inch of the organic tissue that remained was discolored and misshapen.  Despite her expertise, Jian couldn’t imagine just how much pain Tam must have been in just sitting there.

“Hmm…well.  There a few things I can do today to treat your immediate symptoms, but it will be a temporary fix.  I would highly recommend getting scheduled for more in-depth surgical maintenance as soon as possible.”

Tam furrowed her brow.  “…You trying to say you can fix me?  Actually?”

Sealing the panel, Jian tapped her foot.  “It’s…hard to make an accurate long-term projection without surgery and further testing.  Naturally, complications with cybernetics will only become increasingly likely the longer you’re unable to have them replaced and updated, but, based on what I can see now I can think of a few options with a high chance of improving your day-to-day.”

A spark burst from Tam’s eye.  “…Really…?”

“Really.  First I want to take a moment to patch you up, but then we can talk in more detail about…”  She stopped when she noticed her patient trembling.  “…Tam?”

Tam clamped her hand over her eyes as she turned away.  “I-I…I j-just…I never thought…”  Electrified tears ran down her face.  “…Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Jian said with a nod.  “Would you like some privacy?  Some time to prepare?”

Tam quickly wiped her face, static lingering on her cheek to tug at her hair.  “No, no.  Uh, when can we get started?”

“Follow me.”

#original

[desktopdust]

Sunflower and Waterlily

The entire sky was pouring down, and still, she couldn’t get a single damn second of silence.  Cars honked their horns, pedestrians shouted, and in the middle of it all, Savitri stood on the curb under a never-ending sheet of rain.  Her long black hair pressed against her face in a wild lattice of clumped strands, making it difficult to see much of anything.  She couldn’t care less even if she had the energy to actually try.

“Hey, what are you doing?!”

Ordinarily, the question would’ve just faded into the background noise around Savitri, with the assumption it was meant for someone else if she gave it a thought at all.  On this particular occasion, she was shocked into focus by the rain’s dance upon her head abruptly ending.

Savitri turned slowly.  A bright pink umbrella was responsible for shielding her from the weather, held by an out-of-breath woman with short, curly red hair.  After taking a few more gasps, the stranger said, “You’ll get seriously sick if you stand out in the rain like that!  Ah, you’re already shivering…”

That was news to Savitri.  She blinked her dull gray eyes, still unsure what was even happening let alone how to react to it.

“Here—come with me.”

She took her by the arm and led her into a nearby restaurant before Savitri processed a single step.  All of the sudden she was sitting in a booth, the other woman’s coat wrapped around her shoulders and a piping hot coffee in her hands.

“What were you doing out there?  Are you in some kind of trouble?  Do you need a ride?”

A long silence passed.  The stranger let out a breath, relaxed her shoulders, and sat back.

“…Sorry.  I’m probably overwhelming you, aren’t I?  I swear I’m not trying to be pushy, I just saw you out there and…well, anyway.  My name is Kelda!  What’s yours?”

Savitri just stared.

“…Um…that’s okay, if you don’t want to tell me.  Is your coffee good?  Can I get you anything?”

Her thoughts finally catching up to her, Savitri set aside her remaining reluctance and raised both hands, signing, “This isn’t going to work.”

Kelda inclined her head sharply.  “Oh…oh!  You’re mute?”

Savitri nodded.

“Ohhh, I see!  I, um, uh…sorry, but I don’t actually know sign language…”

Internally, Savitri reflected on how unsurprised she was to hear that.

“…Ah!  I know!”  Kelda fished her mobile phone out of her purse and smiled at Savitri.  “How about texting?”

Savitri cocked her head.  At this point, she realized, she had developed a morbid curiosity to see just how long this stranger would keep going, so she took out her own phone and exchanged numbers.

>Savitri: Are you always so quick to kidnap people?

She watched Kelda shrink back behind her phone.  “Mmm…”

>Kelda: So sorry! >_<  I panicked and got carried away!  I just wanted to help, honest! :D

Savitri raised an eyebrow.

>Savitri: You know *you* don’t have to text, right?

“Oh, right!”  Kelda giggled.  “Habit I guess!”

>Savitri: Why does your text look like that??

“What?  It’s cute!”

>Savitri: If you say so…

“Hmph…well, anyway.  What were you doing standing out in weather like this, Savitri?”

Savitri glanced out the window as she thought about her response.

>Savitri: I was hoping the rain would drown it all out

“Huh?  Drown what out?”

>Savitri: All of it.  It’s all just so loud and chaotic and irritating.  I was chasing relief, not that I found any.

Kelda opened her mouth but stopped before any words came out.  She took quick looks at Savitri, her phone, the window, and the empty booths surrounding them, and eventually typed something.

>Kelda: I’m sorry I interrupted you. “-_-  Is it any quieter in here at least? ^_^

Another long silence.

>Savitri: Yeah.  I guess it is.

Kelda grinned and slumped back into her seat.  To Savitri’s surprise, she started smiling too.

***

Savitri and Kelda stood on the curb as a never-ending sheet of rain poured onto their shared umbrella.  Cars honked their horns and pedestrians shouted, but Savitri found that the closer she pulled Kelda, the farther away all the noise seemed.

With a glance over her shoulder, Kelda signed, “Look!  It’s where we had our first date!”  She added meaningless little flourishes and elegantly wove each sign into the next; Savitri watched each move closely, enamored with the “voice” she had developed.

“Oh,” she signed back, “you mean the kidnapping?”

Kelda pouted.  “I did not kidnap you!  Honestly—”

Savitri cut her off by gently weaving her fingers into the hand she was signing with.  With her free hand, she signed, “I’m glad you did.”

She tried to hold her sour expression, but Kelda had her smile back in seconds.  She kissed Savitri’s hand, then Savitri kissed her cheek, and finally their lips met.  Strength momentarily failed Kelda: the umbrella slipped from her hand, and she and Savitri laughed together under the relentless rain.

#original

[desktopdust]

Progeny

It felt like I was staring into the face of Death.  No, even Death would quake at such a sight.

“You honor us, Your Majesty,” Father said.  “I assure you, you will not regret placing your trust in House Valerio.”

King Visvaldus grunted.  “Quite.  Preparations are nearly in place—when did you say she turns 16, again?”

Mother curtsied.  “In only a week, Your Majesty.  Galia will be here precisely at dawn the following day.”

“Hrm.  Well, Lady Galia?  You’ve hardly said a word; go on and greet Alberich properly.”

I swallowed hard, hoping my dread would go with it.  What relief it did bring vanished as Alberich moved.  His body twisted around in the stone-walled pit before us, his hundreds of long, winding appendages undulating with the sound and weight of flesh despite having the look of polished metal.  Two electric blue orbs spun endlessly around his piscine body, slowly and yet still too fast for me to keep up with.  Mother jabbed her elbow under my shoulder blade.

“P…Pleased to meet you…Lord Alberich.”  I was surprised I managed to do anything but scream.

“There you go.”  The king stroked their beard, turning to Alberich and beaming with reverence and pride.  “It is a heavy responsibility to be Guardian of our fine kingdom.  But Alberich has borne it well, fostering generations of our people with his loving protection.  You have big shoes to fill, so to speak.”

Words failed me.  Mother and Father continued to exchange pleasantries a bit longer, and then the three of us finally took our leave.  We were halfway up the stairwell when I shuddered and finally found my voice.

“I can’t do this.”

Father furrowed his brow.  “Hush, Galia.  The agreement is already made, and House Valerio does not go back on its word.”

“Father, I can’t!  I can’t even begin to imagine living as such a creature for decades, let alone centuries!”

Mother shook her head.  “Shame on you.  Serving as a Guardian is the most wonderful thing a person can do with their life!  The process will transform you, and then it will all make perfect sense.”

My heart beat faster with every step I took.  “Don’t I at least have a say in this?  Whether it’s an honor or not, I’m being asked to surrender my entire future!  What if—”

“Enough!” Father said.  “You’re not a child anymore, Galia!  You will accept your responsibility to your ancestors and your kingdom.  Now be quiet!”

Stunned, I indeed fell silent until we reached the castle gate.  Its iron bars seemed to stretch into the sky for miles, as if to cage the sun itself; my breathing sped up to match my heartbeat, and dizziness washed over me as I staggered forward.

“I…I…” …can’t.  I can’t.  I can’t!  I can’t!

I won’t!

Instinct took over, and I broke into a sprint.  Father tried and failed to grab me.  Mother shouted to the guards and five of them closed in around me, shields raised.  Unthinking, I swept one arm forward.  There was a flash, a sizzling sound, a tingling shooting through my body, and then—

“GRAGH!!”

The guards fell to the floor, and I rushed past them.  I was too panicked to truly understand what had struck them.  More guards appeared, forcing me to duck and weave until one slammed their shield into my face.  I was sent sprawling; having the upbringing I did, I was not used to dealing with such great pain, thus it took me a few moments to start to pick myself up.  I looked up at the guard who had stopped me.  Their eyes were wide, still hiding within the shadow of their shield.  The sound of footsteps behind me made my panic swell once more, and with another swing of my arm, I found myself shouting, “Move!”

I saw it this time: nearly a dozen blades forged from brilliant light manifested spontaneously to force back my enemy.  My fear spurred me onward before I had time to marvel at the strange phenomenon.  Father shouted, “Galia!  Stop this at once!”

I did not stop.  More of the ethereal blades appeared—or rather, I summoned more of them as I continued my escape.  Not knowing the layout of the castle, however, I soon found myself cornered in some sort of guest chamber.  As I desperately searched for a way out, my gaze caught on the vanity mirror, and I froze when I saw my reflection: my left eyeball had taken on a golden color, its pupil replaced by a dark gray emblem shaped like a sword.  I was so alarmed I didn’t even hear the guards come in.

“Careful now,” Father said as he appeared in the doorway.  “She’s dangerous like this.  Goodness, of all times for her to awaken Anima Spada…”

Mother advanced past him.  “Galia, cease this foolishness!  We’ve secured for you a future of security, of great meaning and honor!  Don’t throw it away like a fool!”

I felt a satin curtain brush against my back.  “…Mother…Father…is this all I am to you?  A pawn to set in motion as you please?”

“Galia!”

The guards edged forward.  That was fine: I’d already made my decision.  “Hah…my apologies, then.  This piece shall stand on your board no longer.”

I formed a fence of blades to scare the guards back.  Then I spun, tore the curtain aside, and leapt through the window onto the outer wall of the castle.  My parents screamed after me, but their voices faded away as I sprinted into the forest.  The unknown awaiting me had to be better than the set-in-stone Hell I was leaving behind.

[desktopdust]

Cutting the Parasitic Cord

"Parasite: Noun.  An organism that lives on or in another organism, while not contributing towards that other organism sufficiently to cover the cost to that other organism."

[Warning for emotional abuse]

Tick…tick…tick…

Lillie silently wrung her hands.  The waiting room was quiet—eerily so—and something in her feared that if she was too loud it would throw the entire hospital into chaos.

Tick…tick…tick…

The wall clock directly above where she sat was driving her mad.  She could move to a different seat, but she worried that would look incredibly odd to the receptionist.  She could step out for a moment, get some fresh air, but she couldn’t risk missing the doctor.

Tick…tick…tick…

She leaned back slightly, which led her to realize nearly every muscle in her body was tightly tensed.  Quietly, she took a deep breath, and tried to relax herself at least a little.

Tick—BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNG!!

Lillie’s heart tried to leap from her chest like a Pokémon sick of being in its ball.  She held onto the armrests to steady herself while the receptionist answered the phone, the pounding in her ears drowning out both the conversation and the accursed clock.  Just as she felt she was getting her bearings back, the door on the other side of the room opened, and out walked the doctor in charge of her mother’s recovery.  It took one moment for Lillie to get on her feet, and just one more to reach the doctor’s side.

“Doctor!  Um, how did things go…?”

His smile was weary but warm.  “Quite well, I’d say.  Thanks to Bill’s Cell Separation System we were able to remove all traces of the toxins in your mother’s body.”

Lillie sighed.  “Oh, good…thank you so much for taking care of her.”

“My pleasure.  Now, I should tell you: since this is a toxin we’re unfamiliar with, it’s very difficult to estimate how long it’ll take for your mother to be back at full health.  It could be a matter of hours, or it could be a matter of months—we just don’t know.”

“Yes, I understand.”  She glanced at the door.  “Is she still in the operating room?”

“For now.  We want to observe her just a bit longer, to make sure it’s safe to move her.  We’ll let you know as soon as she’s ready to return her to her room.”

“Thank you, again.  Everyone here’s been so wonderful to us; I can’t begin to tell you how much we appreciate all that you’ve done!”

She let the doctor leave and, after one more look back at the operating room door, exited the waiting room at last.  The orange tint of the hall she walked through made her realize the sun was setting, and that it hadn’t been her imagination making her think the procedure had taken a very long time to complete.  Her stomach growled at her.  She paused, looked at the elevator, then turned to the Xtransceiver on her wrist.  After giving it a little more thought, she stepped through the nearest door and out onto an empty balcony.  Lillie poked the device a few times to summon an image of her brother on its screen.

“There you are,” Gladion said.  “I take it the operation ran long?”

“Nice to see you too, brother,” Lillie said.  “Yes, it took them longer than expected—I only just got to speak with the doctor.  But he said they were able to completely remove Nihilego’s toxins!  Mother should be back to her old self soon enough.”

Gladion adjusted his hair.  “Hm.  Well, I’m glad to hear it was a success.  How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.  Um, I did forget to eat dinner, but that’s something I can take care of right away.”

“Then I won’t keep you.  Just…”

She waited to see if he would finish his sentence.  “…Just…what?”

Gladion sighed.  “At the risk of being blunt…it wasn’t the neurotoxin that turned Mother into the person we both had to run from.  Remember that.”

Lillie blinked.  Then she scowled.  “I know that.  But she’s already been getting better since the treatment started.  I told you: she hasn’t said anything about Ultra Beasts, and she’s always asking how the two of us are doing—”

“You also told me she was still awfully controlling.”

“…I know she won’t suddenly change overnight.  But the doctor did say she would recover.”

“’Back to her old self’, as you put it?”

“I…well, that’s…”  She shook her head.  “That’s not important!  After everything that’s happened, surely she knows she can’t continue on like that!”

Gladion looked away.  “Maybe.  I’m not so sure.”

“Gladion—”

“But I’m not asking you to convince me.  I just want to know you’re prepared for the possibility of things turning out less than ideal.”

Lillie took a moment to absorb his words.  “…I understand.  Thank you, Gladion…I’ll try.”

He nodded.  “Alright.  Now go get something to eat.  I’ll talk to you later.”

He ended the call.  Lillie stared at the balcony floor for a while, lost in thought, until her stomach again roared at her.  It was a short walk to the hospital cafeteria, and after finishing her meal, she pulled her diary from her bag and flipped to the first empty page.

Day XX in Kanto Mother’s surgery was today—the big one using Mr. Bill’s program.  It took longer than expected, but it was a complete success!  Now we just need to wait for Mother to get her strength back.  I’m relieved, and very happy to know she’ll be alright.

Her eyes drifted towards her Xtransceiver, and her pen halted for a while.

And, though I don’t want to admit it, I’m also a little scared.  Anything she does after today can’t be blamed on the neurotoxin.  Well, perhaps until her body fully recovers

She stopped and shook her head.

Well, perhaps until her body fully recovers I want to believe she’ll change from the person she’s been these past few years, try to be the mother I remember from when I was young, but I keep needing to remind myself that I can’t make that choice for her.  I thought I already

A yawn caught her off-guard.  She considered heading back to her mother’s room and getting some rest, but reasoned she probably wouldn’t be able to rest much until the doctors were finished observing Lusamine.

I thought I already decided I won’t simply appease her anymore.  It was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, so I suppose I’m a bit too eager to picture a future where I don’t have to see it through.  I won’t beat myself up for hoping.  But Gladion’s right: I need to be prepared for anything.

Not much else came to mind.  She doodled a bit, finishing the page with a few messy sketches of Clefairy and Exeggutor and Nebby.  It was a long, long time before she heard from the doctor again.

***

She awoke to find her mother sitting up in her bed, watching something on the television.  After stretching and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she said, “Mother?  How are you feeling?”

Lusamine turned; her gaze was more lucid than it had been in a long time, which Lillie took as proof that the effects of the toxins were wearing off, but she couldn’t quite read her expression.  “Oh, Lillie.  I’m doing much better…though my memory is a bit cloudy on a few things.  What hospital is this again?”

Lillie couldn’t help but relax, hearing her speak so normally.  “It’s St. Joy’s, in Saffron City.”

Lusamine crossed her arms.  “Saffron…I remember you mentioning Kanto, but why Saffron?”

“We needed help from somebody who lives in Cerulean City, but…well, even in that state you insisted on the best accommodations possible…”

“Oh…heh, I suppose that does sound like me.  Thank you for taking such good care of me, dear.”

Lillie smiled.  “Of course.”

Lusamine looked around.  “Is…Gladion here…?”

“He stayed at Aether Paradise, running the Foundation while you were gone.  It sounds like things are going well!  But, he is a bit bored with it.”

“That’s right, I remember now.  Well, I can’t imagine I’ll be here much longer, so…”  She paused, staring at Lillie.  “How long have you been wearing your hair up like that?”

A sinking feeling slowly snaked into Lillie’s heart.  “Um…not particularly long.  I wanted to try something new.”

“You look much more beautiful with it down.  Besides, doesn’t that get in the way of wearing that darling hat I bought you?”

“Well…that’s…”

“Come here.  Let me fix it for you.”

Lusamine reached out.  Lillie pulled back, saying, “No, I…I actually like my hair like this.”

“Nonsense, what you had before was much better.  Let me help you.”

“Mother, please, stop.”

“It’ll only take a moment.”

“Mother!”  Lusamine finally stopped.  Lillie awkwardly held her hand, and said, “I want to keep it this way for now.”

Her expression was starting to look familiar—all too familiar.  “…Fine.  Now, what was I saying…ah, yes.  I’ll call Gladion shortly and let him know we’ll be returning to Alola soon.  Once we do, perhaps the three of us can go on a trip together; wouldn’t that be nice?”

Lillie swallowed hard.  “It…does sound nice, bu—”

“Wonderful!  I’ll have Wicke start making preparations for us.”

“Er, Mothe—”

“Unova is quite nice this time of year.  Oh, but I’ve always wanted to show you Kalos!  Yes, you’ll love it there.”

After one last moment of hesitation, Lillie squeezed Lusamine’s hand.  “Mother, you must listen to me!”

Lusamine stared at her.  Her eyes were wide with shock, confusion…Lillie thought she saw a flash of fear as well.  Much as she didn’t want to say it, she knew it needed to be said.

“…I’m…not going back to Alola with you.”

Silence filled the room.  The seconds seemed to stretch themselves into hours, weeks, years.  Lillie barely moved a muscle—once again, she found, they were all extremely tense.

Tick…tick…tick…

“You don’t mean that,” Lusamine said.

Lillie nodded.  “I do.”

“You can’t!  You can’t just abandon me, not again!”

She knew she’d have to choose her battles.  “I’m not abandoning you.  I’ll stay with you until—”

Lusamine suddenly grabbed her shoulders.  “You have to stay with me always!”

“M…Mother.”

She tried to smile as the fear came to fill her eyes completely.  “I-I got carried away, I know!  I shouldn’t have chased the Ultra Beasts so obsessively!  I’m sorry for the way I treated you, I really, truly am!  Let’s just start over again: I’ll be a better mother, I promise!  We can still be a family!”

Lillie’s heart ached.  Part of her was convinced that this was exactly what she had wanted to hear, that all she had to do was accept and let everything settle back into normalcy.  But only one part.  “I’ve made up my mind: I’m not leaving Kanto until I’ve completed its gym challenge.”

Tears welled in Lusamine’s eyes.  “Wh…what are you talking about?  You hate Pokémon battles!”

“I learned a lot after leaving Aether Paradise.  I’m not the same person I used to be…but, I’m not quite the person I want to be either, not yet.  That’s why I want to challenge the gyms: so that I can keep learning, keep growing!”

“No, you just need to stay the way you were!  You just need to go back to the way you were!”

Lillie’s words caught in her throat.  Squaring her shoulders, she pushed and heaved until she was finally able to spew them out.  “We can’t…just…go back.  We can’t simply pretend none of this happened, Mother.  We have to accept what’s happened, terrible as it all is, and find a way to move forward.  And I…have to find mine on my own.”

Lusamine’s grip tightened.  “Lillie, I can’t lose you!”

Gently as she could, Lillie grabbed her mother’s wrists.  “That’s exactly what will happen if you try to keep such tight hold of me.”

Lusamine didn’t reply.

“I’m not going away forever, Mother.  But I also can’t stay forever.  Please…you have to understand.”

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Lusamine’s grip began to loosen.  When she finally let go, her hands hovered near Lillie for a moment, and then she pulled them back, looked down at the bed, and slumped.  Lillie waited as long as she could bear.

“I know this must be a lot for you to take in.  I’ll give you some time.”

She heard no response as she stood up and left the room.  Lillie walked down the hall, her pace slowing with every step, and prodded her Xtransceiver with trembling fingers.

“Yes?” Gladion answered.  “Did something…Lillie?  What’s wrong?”

Lillie broke down sobbing.

***

Ssshhhh…ssssshhhhh…sssshhh…

Lillie raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.  From the bench along the harbor, she could hear the endless sound of the waves and feel the salty, refreshing ocean wind roll over her.  Off in the distance, a shining white luxury liner blew its horn as it drifted on out of sight.  Lillie fished her diary out her bag, turned to the first blank page, and sat back.

Day XX in Kanto

I just saw Mother off.  She was still sad and angry, and made sure we all knew it, but I’m glad that at the very least she’s begun to accept my decision to stay.  It’s a long trip to Alola—Gladion said he’ll need the time to work out how he’s going to persuade Mother to let him leave Aether Paradise.  I hope it won’t be too difficult for him.

A Slowpoke sat at the very edge of the dock, dangling its tail in the water in the hopes something would bite.  Nothing did.

The truth is that I’m sad to see her go.  Isn’t that strange?  All this effort to let go, and I still find myself wanting to look back.  I can’t tell if it’s grief, or love (Mother certainly doesn’t think so), or something else entirely.  It might be a long time before I’m able to know for sure.  I suppose it’s part of accepting the past, rather than simply ignoring it.  But, the past will still be there whenever I am ready to make sense of it—I want to turn my focus to the future.

She sighed.  Her muscles still felt a bit stiff, but they were far more agreeable to movement now.  A school of Poliwag came to the water’s edge, paused to investigate, and then leapt in and began swimming across the harbor, chattering gleefully as they went.

I’m still in Vermillion City right now.  I have a ticket for a voyage of my own, just a short ways west to Pallet Town.  I’ve been in contact with Oak Labs these past few days, and after getting some paperwork settled, they’ve agreed to give me the support I need to start my gym challenge.  In spite of everything, I feel this grand excitement building within me just thinking about it.  It hardly seems real, but by this time tomorrow, I’ll be a real Pokémon Trainer!

Lillie gazed out over the sea.  An electric feeling ran throughout her body; her heart felt impossibly light, like it might carry her up into the sky now that she had shed the weight on her shoulders.  She couldn’t help but smile.

Whatever I run into on my adventure, I know I’ll be able to my Pokémon and I will be able to handle it.  We’ll grow stronger together, and when we’re done here, we’ll head back to Alola to show all of our friends there.  Then, if they’re up for it, I’d love to go on another adventure with Hau, Gladion, and

Another horn rang out, this one much closer.  Lillie looked up to see her ship entering the harbor.  She quickly put away her diary and got to her feet, and then, taking a deep breath, she approached the dock.

“Alola!”

#Pokemon

[desktopdust]

Right of Law, Section XXXV

(The battle for Atero escalates, testing not only the rebels' abilities but their convictions as well.)

Antroz and Gorast clashed swords.  Using her two upper arms, Gorast quickly followed with scythe and spear; Antroz exerted her Density Control powers, turning her head intangible so the spear would pass through harmlessly, while also hardening one wing as she raised it to parry the scythe.  She pulled her sword back and thrust, but Gorast turned invulnerable and was simply pushed back by the strike.  Laser and Heat Vision burst from Gorast’s eyes.  Antroz teleported above and threw down a volley of Light bolts.  Gorast flew up at her, using her Dodge and Elasticity powers to evade every shot.  She stopped just short as a wall of sound sprang up in front of her, and then she locked eyes on Antroz, neither moving an inch.

“You never would accept my challenges,” Gorast said.  “We’ve never been able to properly test our strength against each other.”

“It would have been pointless.”

“Not to me.”

Antroz sighed.  “That’s exactly why I refused.  Either you’d win and be insufferable over it, or lose and be an entirely different sort of insufferable.”

“Heh…well, don’t worry.  You won’t suffer long.”

A funnel cloud rapidly dropped down on top of Antroz, slamming her to the ground.  Quickly as she could, she teleported farther down the street, and turned back as Gorast smashed her axe into the pavement with enough force to carve a small trench.  Two great vines rose on other side of her to hurl debris at Antroz, which she stopped with her Gravity powers.  Gorast dashed in under the floating rocks; Antroz forced all the debris together into one titanic boulder and let it fall.  Temporarily dropping her scythe, Gorast met the meteor with an uppercut, a pulse of energy moving from her fist through the entire rock in an instant, and the whole thing crumbled to dust.

I’d nearly forgotten, Antroz thought.  She’s found a way to extend her Density Control power a short distance beyond her own body, weakening a target at the molecular level to punch through them even more easily.  If it’s a fight she wants, she likely won’t go for that sort of deathblow right away, but I need to keep that technique in mind.

Gorast whirled around to reclaim her scythe.  She teleported behind Antroz before her rotation was complete, but Antroz anticipated her, ducking and swinging her sword upward to again clash with Gorast’s blade.  Gorast retaliated with her spear, but Antroz teleported out of reach and hurled a lightning bolt.  The voltage met with the head of Gorast’s axe, clinging there a moment as she used her own powers to commandeer it, and then she threw the axe at Antroz, teleported forward to grab it just before it hit her, and pulled it back as she released the electrical attack to finally catch Antroz off-guard.  The blind Makuta staggered back, and Gorast gave a delighted grunt.  She planted her spear in the ground, using it to push herself forward with extra force, and then dropped her sword to swing her axe into Antroz’s midsection with two hands.  Antroz’s understanding of her surroundings shattered as she crashed through a wall.

“How’s that?!” Gorast yelled, magnetically pulling her sword back to her hand.  “First blood is mine!  Hah-hah-hah!”

Antroz took stock of her new location as she pushed herself upright: shelves filled with small cans, confectionaries protected by a glass case, crates piled with fruit…including a mound of Thornax.

“Come on out!  I’m nowhere near through with you!”

Still obscured by a cloud of dust, Antroz used her Telekinesis to arrange the Thornax into a tight formation before launching them and teleporting outside.  She moved in with her Chameleon powers active while Gorast busied herself shooting them down.  Just as she was about to strike, Gorast impaled one of the Thornax with her spear and swung it as a makeshift morning star right at Antroz, only just missing her.  She moved as far back as she could while deactivating her powers.

“I used to see you as a rival, you know.”  Gorast used her Plant Control powers to rot the Thornax off of her spear.  “My only rival.  I thought you were one of the only ones who knew what being a Makuta really meant—you, me, Teridax…maybe Vamprah.”

She swung her scythe in a wide arc.  A razor-sharp wave of light flew out from it, slicing cleanly through buildings on both sides of the street as it advanced.  Antroz teleported past it.

“But Teridax was on his own level, and Vamprah’s too much of a freak.  You, though…beneath all that pretentious, snobby pageantry…I used to think you and I were the same.”

She slowly walked forward.  Antroz’s blade shimmered with heat.

“But we’re not.  None of you are like me.  You’ve all come up with your own ideas of what being a Makuta is supposed to mean.  You’ve forgotten the whole reason we were made!”

She feinted.  Antroz hopped back to evade, twirling her sword to send disks of superheated plasma at her foe.  Gorast dodged the first, then the second—but for the third, she dropped her spear and caught the attack in her hand.

“I’m the only Makuta!  And I’ll butcher anyone who dirties my name!”

She reshaped the mass of plasma into a javelin before throwing it back.  Antroz neutralized it with a blinding flash, and said, “I pity you, Gorast.”

Without waiting for her vision to return, Gorast advanced.  Antroz began to teleport around at random, using Light bolts to probe for openings, but Gorast kept her Dodge powers active to maintain her defenses.

“Though we disagreed on much, I found your fierce devotion commendable.  I had hope that your good intentions would spur you on to become the finest of us all.”

The instant she could see again, Gorast attacked with a sweeping beam of Light.  Antroz teleported behind her and thrust—the blow was parried, and she teleported away before Gorast could counterattack.

“But you never closed the distance between yourself and everyone else, and now, that distance is all you can see.  You bluster about how you take pride in its vastness, but even still…”

Antroz stopped where she next materialized, facing Gorast’s back from a block away.  She glared over her shoulder at her.

“…there’s a deep loneliness in your heart, isn’t there?  Cut off from all others, understood by no one…I pity you, Gorast.  I truly do.”

Gorast didn’t reply.  After she remained still for a few seconds, Antroz grew suspicious, and focused her thoughts on her opponent to more acutely sense her movements.  This led her to discover that Gorast’s mouth was moving.  Antroz briefly wondered why no sound was coming from her, before remembering that Gorast wore the Mask of Conjuring.  She moved to teleport behind cover; her powers failed her, leaving her open for Gorast to successfully teleport up to her and bring her to the ground with her scythe.

Silence, Antroz thought.  She used Silence on herself while verbally programming the mask so I couldn’t hear her.  I never would have thought of that…

“Were you saying something?”  Gorast kept the crook of her scythe around Antroz’s neck as she leaned down over her.  “Last thing I heard was that you think you have the right to pity me.  I’ll give you a chance to take that back.”

Antroz again tried and failed to teleport.  This must be a result of the power she programmed…but she can still teleport, so it isn’t as simple as teleportation jamming.  Then what?

“No?  Fine then.”  Gorast drove her spear through Antroz’s arm, pinning her.  She then pointed at the antidermis that leaked out of the wound, slowly incinerating it with a focused beam of Plasma to put Antroz through as much pain as possible.  “You don’t get to pity me.  Understand?  You aren’t better then me.  You aren’t even my equal!  I’m the only one left fit to decide what a Makuta is…and you aren’t it.”

She simultaneously yanked out her spear and cut Antroz’s shoulder with her scythe.  Antroz growled, but refused to give anything more.  Gorast backed up a few steps and waited as Antroz climbed to her feet.

“And without that, what even are you?  You think I’m the one broken up?”  She sneered.  “You’re the one who lost everything you ever were, and everything you were ever supposed to be.  I should be the one pitying you…except I don’t pity.”

Antroz heated her sword once more.

“What do you have left?  An army of failures you can lead to their deaths?”

Antroz hurled a wave of Plasma, but Gorast simply dodged and struck back with Lightning.

“That thing you always said, what was it…you look that way to show you fought your demons and won, or something?”

They clashed swords.  Antroz blocked Gorast’s other weapons by hardening her wings and arm.  Both of them hardened their masks and lashed out with a headbutt, and they remained locked like this, wary of being the first to relent.

“Look at you now.  Working with Krika and Bitil and Pridak and a whole bunch of criminals, throwing the whole planet into chaos as you try to destroy what the Great Beings built!  You didn’t beat your demons, Antroz.  You became one of them!”

Antroz lost her footing.  Gorast pressed her advantage and slammed her into the ground with all four arms.  She raised one to make a fist, created spikes of solid light along the knuckles, and then started to punch Antroz over and over and over.  Antroz struggled to break free.  She knew Gorast, knew that her words were meant to egg her on more than anything else, knew there was no real weight behind them.  Precisely because of this, she hated how much they affected her.

***

Zaekura stepped through the gap in Atero’s wall and immediately came face-to-face with the brawl that had consumed the courtyard.  The Rahkshi tore into the meager ranks of drones, who proved more manageable with their ability to combine neutralized.  Shots flew in every direction; her allies were careful to avoid any fatal blows, but every small mistake led to a searing graze or severed limb.  The blasts that missed completely struck the wall and nearby buildings, slowly eroding the grand structures that had endured the harshness of Bara Magna for thousands of years.  The drones were not solely at fault: elemental blasts and exploding Cordak rockets and a dozen other weapons assisted in the destruction, all chiseling away at Atero regardless of allegiance.  One of the drones exploded, taking a pillar with it and causing someone’s house to collapse—a nearby unit of Toa were swept away by the rubble washing onto the courtyard.  Zaekura clutched her stomach.

“Lady Zaekura,” Charla said.  “This way, please.”

She didn’t feel like moving, but she let Charla lead her along the battle’s perimeter.  Nestled into a corner was a makeshift medic’s tent.  Zaekura gagged when she saw Glatorian piling discarded limbs a few yards away, so she ducked inside to find Surja treating a wounded Su-Matoran: their left arm was burned from wrist to shoulder, and a hole had been scorched into the side of their Kanohi Ruru.  Surja greeted her with a weak hiss.

“We’ve confirmed that all civilians have evacuated,” Charla said.

Zaekura nodded.  “…What about the rest of Atero’s militia?”

“Our forces have encountered more units deeper inside the city.”

“Right…probably want to stay away from those death machines no matter whose side they’re on.”

Zaekura stared out at the battle.  Charla hesitated a moment before suggesting, “Perhaps we should pull back for the moment?  You can issue orders from a distance until the courtyard is fully secured.”

Zaekura’s fingers twitched.  She wanted nothing more than to remove herself from this scene.  “…I can’t.  I need to…it’s my responsibility…to really understand just what…”

“As you wish.”

Out in the fray, a Toa of Sand pulled their comrade out of the rubble just as a drone set its sights on him.  He prepared to dodge, but before the machine could take a shot, Aleps rolled out from behind cover and sprang at its back, the sleepwalking Rahkshi punching their foes’ joints a dozen times before they hit the ground.  The drone still functioned when they bounced up and staggered away—for only a second, though, as the Toa took his opportunity to finish the automaton.

“Thanks for the help,” he said.

Aleps continued to stumble about.  Kameter soon appeared behind them, and he and the Toa exchanged nods.  Alize followed, but she immediately dropped to one knee, her breathing slow and heavy.

“Are you alright?  Don’t overtax yourself.”

Alize hissed and pushed herself upright.  Two dueling Glatorian were drawing near, one with red armor and the other wearing black; the Toa of Sand didn’t recognize either.  Aleps wandered over to the pair and, before either could react, dealt a swift knockout blow to the red one’s jaw.

“Do you mind?” said the other.  “You’ve ruined the tension that was building—this sort of resolution is never satisfying!”

Still asleep, Aleps walked off in search of more foes.  The flustered Glatorian sheathed her rapier with a huff, and then shapeshifted back into a blue and gold Rahkshi.  Inclining his head, the Toa of Sand said, “Ah, so that’s it…”

She glanced over at him.  “Hm?  I’m afraid I don’t recognize you—are you friend or foe?”

“Friend.  Call me Nilkuu.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.  I am Kuroma, Daughter of Bitil.”  She next looked to Alize.  “Overzealous…how fares she, Kameter?”

Alize answered for herself.  Kameter said nothing, but averted his gaze slightly.

“Tsk tsk, you mustn’t ignore your own body, sister.”

Nilkuu looked away from the argument, spotting a Su-Matoran skirting the battle.  He vaguely remembered seeing them in Xia, so he gave them a nod and turned in search of a new opponent.

All of this could be seen from the medic’s tent, and as it unfolded, a strange nagging pulled at the back of Zaekura’s mind.  She studied the Matoran of Plasma as they approached Nilkuu: the style of their armor, the tools they carried, the Kanohi Ruru they wore…until it finally clicked.  She turned back to Surja and the Matoran she was treating.  Save for their wounds, the patient was entirely identical to the one out on the battlefield.

“Charla!” she cried, wildly gesturing to the two doppelgangers.  It took her a moment to understand, but as soon as she did, she sent a telepathic signal to Nilkuu and the rest.  The Toa whirled just in time to redirect an energy blast by using a sand tendril to wrench back the fake’s arm.

“What…are you, exactly?” he asked.

The false Toa said nothing.  Their body stretched and twisted, slipping free from the tendril in the process, and then settled into the familiar shape of Velika’s drones.

“Oho!” Kuroma chuckled, drawing her sword.  “Seems a rival has appeared.  This should prove an interesting performance!”

Charla sent out a message warning everyone that a new, shapeshifting model of drone had appeared.  Nilkuu launched a dozen sand spears, but the machine transformed into a Spiny Stone Ape before the attack connected, and the projectiles bounced harmlessly off of their target’s hide.  The drone swiped at Nilkuu, but Kuroma leapt forward, transforming into a Fe-Matoran as she parried the claw.

“I don’t think so!  En garde!”

She pushed aside her enemy’s arm and threw a punch.  The drone transformed into a Fireflyer in an instant, completely avoiding the blow, and after flitting to a better position it changed into an ash bear and pounced.  Kuroma hopped to the side and landed a shallow jab before the drone changed into a Lohrak to escape.  It didn’t get far, however, thanks to a sudden twister of sand conjured by Nilkuu.  Alize attempted to enter the battle, but Kameter held her back.

“No no, sister, you leave this to us!  You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep this up!”

Kuroma and Nilkuu leapt at the drone as it took the shape of a Catapult Scorpion.  Alize growled something, but after a gentle nudge from Kameter, she hissed and dragged him off.  Nilkuu did his best to keep the machine off-balance while Kuroma attacked head-on, and Zaekura held her head in her hands as she watched them.

“They shapeshift now,” she said, each word heavier and slower than the last.  “How am I going to deal with that?  How am I going to keep everyone safe?”

Charla gently turned her away.  “The answer will come in time.  Our allies know to be alert now, so we must trust them to protect themselves.”

“But then what’s next?  Velika keeps making these things harder and harder to deal with, and I’m only playing catchup.  I need to try to get ahead of him…I don’t know how, but I can’t let him keep controlling the escalation like this.  I’ve got to think of something!”

She sat down and closed her eyes, wracking her brain for the slightest spark of an idea.  Charla started to reach out for her, but Surja called for her help; she hesitated, but then went to assist her, feeling that was where she was more likely to be of use.

***

Two Vorox ran across a large courtyard, each carrying a vermilion blaster with a long barrel.  They crouched behind the fountain at the courtyard’s center and scanned for a path through the crossfire—but soldiers from both sides fired at each other relentlessly, forming a lethal web of lasers and elemental blasts with no clear opening.

“Why did I agree to this?” one grumbled.

Her partner narrowed his eyes as he continued to scan.  “No one’s forcing you to stay, Graizel.”

“Oh hush.  Can’t you just let me complain?”

“I would rather you help me out.”  He cocked his head.  “Alright…stay low.  3…2—”

“Watch out!”

Graizel tried to pull them both away from the fountain; that was when he noticed the water reaching up and out of the pool in long tendrils.  It moved faster than either of them could, grabbing and engulfing their heads to cut off their air.  He struggled to keep himself from panicking.  Next to him, Graizel grasped for her weapon, but the water expanded to restrain her arms.  He was just about to run out of air when he saw something rush through both tendrils—a wave of sand severed them, freeing the two Vorox and letting them drop to the ground.

“Ilikar?” Graizel asked after coughing the water out of her lungs.  “You’re not dead, are you?”

The other Vorox groaned as he propped himself up.  Spears of hardened sand destroyed the fountain from below, but the water in it escaped, moving a short distance through the air before reshaping into the body of Tarix.  As the spears reformed into the Sand Lord, the soldiers lining the courtyard all gradually pulled back.

“Ah…my predecessor,” Tarix said.  “I had a feeling we’d meet soon.”

Loose grains of sand swirled about violently.  The Sand Lord glared at Tarix, saying, “Take your pleasantries to the grave.  After that cowardly strike at my people, your words will never reach me.”

She threw one arm back.  A wall of sand appeared behind the two Vorox just in time to block a bundle of thorny roots emerging from the pavement to stab them.  Tarix swung a blade of water at the Sand Lord, thinking she was distracted; she proved his assumption faulty by forming a small but intense sandstorm around him, ripping his watery body to shreds.  Only then did the Sand Lord turn to look at Vastus.

“Seems we’ll need to work harder to surprise you,” the arboreal Element Lord said, slowly circling the courtyard.  “Between the two of us, though, I’m confident we’ll find a way.”

Tarix reformed beside him.  The Sand Lord shook her head.  “You think yourselves the first to face the desert with confidence?  Few mistakes have proved so fatal.  Did the Great Beings truly believe merely two novice Element Lords would be able to stand against me?  I have had entire lifetimes to master my element.  I have become one with the sands…and I shall see you buried beneath them.”

After exchanging a look, Tarix and Vastus rushed forward and swung their weapons.  Sand formed a barrier to foil them, and then turned to blades as it burst outward, the Generals only just slipping out of their range.  Fingers of sand reached up to grab them both from below; Vastus grew a shell of bark and rapidly expanded it to make the space he needed to jump free, while Tarix let his body permeate the sand and weigh it down.  A vortex of leaves snaked forward to consume the Sand Lord, but she emerged unscathed and punched Vastus with a fist of densely-packed sand.  Tarix reformed and cut apart the hand that had tried to grab him, and then crouched, punched the ground, and summoned a wall of water that burst up through the pavement and high into the air.  When the Sand Lord dodged out of the way, the wall bent to surround her; reaching out with both hands, Vastus willed towering shoots of acid grass to grow within the eye of the storm, and a few seconds later Tarix let the veil of water fall.  The Sand Lord was nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t believe for a second that was enough,” Vastus said.  “Keep your guard up.”

He and Tarix stood back to back and waited.  When the ground beneath their feet turned into a whirlpool of quicksand, they both tried to jump clear, but a bullet of light struck Tarix and stunned him.  Vastus threw a vine to him and quickly spotted the shooter: Ilikar was back up, the barrel of his blaster still glowing.  Graizel attempted to shoot him, but Vastus separated his body into countless vines and let the attack pass through empty space.  Tarix recovered and leapt to safety, and then swept his arm out to wash the Vorox away.  The wave he asked for never came.

“As I suspected,” he said.  “They’ve expanded on the technology they used on you last time.”

Vastus wove himself back together and sent thorny roots down into the quicksand.  The whirlpool stopped abruptly, but just as suddenly, the Sand Lord formed with her hand around his neck.

“Don’t move,” she warned.  “My sand can inflict a century of erosion on these fragile plants in an instant.”

He complied.  Tarix said, “Your prowess is every bit as great as you say, Sand Lord.  There is much we could learn from you.”

“Yet I feel no inclination to teach you.”

“I understand that you’re upset, but this is a battlefield.  You can’t be surprised that we would attack the soldiers fighting for you.”

The Sand Lord’s eyes narrowed.  Vastus said, “Tarix, perhaps now isn’t the time to apply pressure.”

“Are you willingly so ignorant,” the Sand Lord said, “or is it a natural skill?  Striking down your enemies with the most cowardly of tactics…”  She tightened her grip of Vastus.  “Even civilians…I’ve already seen such cruelty wielded by Element Lords, and I have sworn to never abide it again.  Our names are already stains on the pages of history; all I can do is ensure that history is where such evil remains.”

The Sand Lord noticed movement: a third Vorox was approaching from behind Graizel and Ilikar.  She turned back to Tarix and said, “My people deserve better than the echo of tyranny you embody.  For their future—"

Every last grain of her being froze at what she witnessed next.  The Vorox who had just appeared had stopped at Graizel and Ilikar’s side, as she had expected.  He then proceeded to strike them both in the back of the head, rendering them unconscious, and took one of their weapons for his own.  The Sand Lord didn’t move an inch until a burst of wooden shrapnel from Vastus’ back repelled her.

“What…what is this trickery?” she asked.  “One of those drones Charla spoke of?  Yes, that must be it…”

The Vorox took aim at her.  “Wrong.  I’m a Vorox loyal to Atero, and I’ve come to backup the Generals.  Now stand down, or I will shoot.”

#Bionicle #Right of Law

[desktopdust]

Ow.  Here I am again.  Ow.  Five years we’ve been living here, but every time I look down from the roof of the complex, the sights that greet me have never changed.  Ow.  Vast, rolling slums stretch out to the horizon, dotted just a bit too sparsely with streetlights to give you any meaningful details if a cloud steps in front of the moon.  Ow.  Off to one side is the ocean of rusty scrap they call the “industrial sector”—damn thing can give you tetanus just from looking at it—while across from that a pristine chrome monolith of a building watches over the rabble from on high, doing everything it can to burn your retinas in record time.  Ow.  A crane swings slowly over a scaffolding, but after locking in place for a moment, it jerks, trembles, and crashes down into—OW!  “FUCK!”

I more or less throw myself onto the floor as sparks burst from my right arm.  Jian, bless her heart, scoops up the extinguisher in an instant, and in a few seconds I’m out, curled up in a smoking pile like the world’s prettiest bundle of firewood.  Soon I’m able to take a look at my arm: the charring on the casing looks like a tattoo artist got drunk with their pen in-hand, and the wires within were twisted together into a sickly lump that would’ve made my stomach churn if I still had one.

Jian crouches down next to me.  “Are you alright?”

“Peachy.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay…it’s okay.”  It hurt like hell.  “No reason to apologize for an accident.”

She takes my shorted-out arm so gently it makes me want to sob.  “Still, I…I know my way around these implants, I shouldn’t…”

With my left hand, I grab my right shoulder and pop the prosthetic out of place.  “C’mon, it’s not like they were ever made to last this long.”

She already has her tools back in her hands, poking and prodding and prying my arm’s circuitry and panels and whatever the fuck else is in there.  I glance up towards the industrial sector: sirens wail as a massive fire slowly spreads over the dilapidated buildings and decommissioned machinery.  What a night, eh boys?

“Jian.”  I reach for her arm.  You’d have to be pretty generous to characterize my clumsy grasp as ‘gentle’.  “I can go a day or two with one arm.  Let’s go to bed—you’re going in early tomorrow, right?”

She doesn’t look up, just slowly turns a screwdriver.  “It’s alright, Tam, I think I’ve got it this time.  Just give me an hour or so to—”

The arm briefly sparks again, flailing itself out of her grip.  While she’s still stunned, I yank her onto her feet and give her a push towards the stairwell.  “Bed.  Now.”

The flames reach up high.  They’re still utterly dwarfed by that damn chrome skyscraper.

#Original Work

[desktopdust]

Right of Law, Section XXXIV

(Hewkii helps Neton with his recovery in Xia, and Ulwin offers his help to Carna in Ga-Koro.  With preparations finally complete, Zaekura marches on Atero, putting Miserix’s defenses to the ultimate test.)

Neton gripped the bars that stood next to him on both sides, bracing himself as he took a small step forward.  His new leg was almost indistinguishable from his old one: identical at a glance or a distance, but further inspection would reveal darkened metal standing in for biological components.  Hewkii was on one side, walking atop a stone platform he had made to put him at the same height as Neton’s shoulder, sticking close in case his friend needed help.  Neton took another step and sighed heavily.

“You’ve made incredible progress!” Hewkii said, adjusting the Kanohi Rau he wore.

Neton chuckled and hissed back.

“I’m sure your powers help, but they don’t entirely solve the problem, right?  I know prolonged adjustment of gravity is taxing in its own right.”

Neton shrugged and steeled himself for another step.  He asked a question, and Hewkii stiffened slightly.

“...No, still nothing.  But I’m sure he’ll pop up any day now.”

After catching his breath, Neton reassured him, and then heaved forward once more.

“Thank you.”  Hewkii paused.  “...Say, Neton.  Do you think…participating in the tournament was a bad idea?”

Neton glanced at him.

“Ah, sorry.”

The Rahkshi shook his head.

“...It’s just, I…I thought I understood the danger, and that I was willing to face it.  But now, because I went through with that plan, Dekar may be…”

After waiting a moment, Neton hissed.

“Of course I’d like to stay optimistic, but in this case I’m worried it might make it seem like I don’t care.”  He gave a short sigh.  “Well, I can’t really do anything about it right now.  Thanks for listening, Neton.”

Neton nodded.  Facing forward again, he resumed his slow trek forward.

Soon the door opened, and Ackar entered through it.  At first he spared them only a glance as he crossed the room, but then he took another long look at Neton’s prosthetic, and his steps slowed.

“Good morning, General,” Hewkii said.  “What brings you here?”

“Trying to find ways to stress-test this restraining band,” Ackar said, slightly waving with his mechanical arm.  “...One of Bitil’s, I take it?”

Neton nodded and hissed.  Hewkii said, “That’s right.  Neton is his name; Velika took his leg during that last attack, so I’m helping him get used to his new prosthetic.”

Neton said something else, and Hewkii chuckled.  Ackar said, “Hm.  Never seen a Rahkshi getting rehabilitated.  Any trouble with the linkup?”

As Neton replied, Hewkii translated, “The maker worried about that as well, but there haven’t been any problems yet.  Guess Rahkshi physiology isn’t that different after all.”

Ackar nodded silently.  Neton was just starting to take another step when he shook violently, saved from meeting the floor only by Hewkii’s intervention.  The Toa asked, “Neton?!  What’s wrong?!”

The tremor vanished as quickly as it had arrived; Neton pushed himself upright as he communicated this.  Hewkii shook his head.

“Still?  Did the doctor say when the phantom pains would stop?”

“It varies,” Ackar said.  “When I lost my arm, I had phantom pains for over a month.  All you can really do is endure it…but they will pass, eventually.”

Neton nodded wearily as he spoke.  Hewkii said, “He says ‘thank you’.”

Ackar didn’t reply, just watched as Neton resumed his exercise.  Eventually, he said, “Hey, Hewkii.”

“Yes sir?”

“You seem to really believe in Zaekura.  Why is that?”

Hewkii took some time to think.  “For the most part, I’ve just been acting on what my gut’s been telling me.  Zaekura, Neton, everyone…right away I felt like they weren’t bad people.  I saw how much they cared about the citizens, and keeping them safe, so when the others who came with Velika showed they didn’t care…I mean, I don’t know.  Joining the rebellion just made sense, I guess.”

Ackar crossed his arms and hummed.

“If I may, sir: I know you feel the same when it comes to the safety of the citizens, but I can also see that you’re still hesitant.”

“Hmph.  Regardless of details, Zaekura is the reason this whole war started.  And no matter how hard you work to protect the citizens during a war, there are always civilian casualties by the end.  Whether or not it’s intentional, whether or not her forces are the ones killing, every death that does occur is a direct result of her choice.  I won’t participate in absolving her of that.”

Neton hissed something.

“...Well?”

Averting his gaze, Hewkii said, “He, uh…disagrees, quite strongly.”

“Understood.”

Neton continued.  “You’re so intent on seeing blame placed on Zaekura that you have none left to place on anyone else.  Perhaps, instead of focusing on the one whose only means of self-defense was to fight back in full force, you could turn your ire upon those who are intentionally and actively killing civilians?  Which approach do you think will save more lives?”

Ackar locked eyes with the Rahkshi.  Neton did not relent.  The two of them ceased only when Zaekura and Charla entered the room.

“Oh, there you are,” Zaekura said.  “I…no, before that, I wanted to see how you were doing, Neton?”

Neton answered.  Hewkii said, “‘It’s progress,’ he says.  I think he’s being a bit modest.”

“Did you come to visit my brother as well, General?” Charla said as she inched closer.

“Just…bumped into each other,” Ackar said.  He unfolded his arms and took a step back.  “...I hear you’re about to march on Atero.”

“We are,” Zaekura said.  “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.  Well, not about marching, but…we want to be sure that Xia is safe while we’re gone.”

Ackar’s gaze drifted.

“Bitil’s staying behind to oversee the defenses, but we want him to have help in case in needs it.  We’ve gotten several volunteers already, and I wanted to—”

“I’ll do it.”

Zaekura blinked.  “...Huh?”

Ackar faced her.  “…I’ll…help keep the people safe while you’re gone.”

“Uh…thanks?  Thank you.  That was, uh…easier than I expected, frankly.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea: I still don’t like you.”

Zaekura deflated slightly.  “Right.”

As they began to discuss the specifics of the matter, Charla turned to look at Neton.  Her brother met her gaze, chuckled quietly, and then took another step forward.

***

The street ahead was lined with artists of all disciplines—sculptors, painters, musicians, playwrights, and more, all busy with their respective crafts and filling the air of Ga-Koro with a cacophonous symphony of creation.  Ulwin was overflowing with glee as he made his way through the performance, finding his soul both soothed and lit ablaze by the all-consuming racket.  It was the sort of thing the young Guurahk had always dreamed of: a meeting of like minds with lifetimes of experience he could learn from and, even better, work alongside as equals.

And we’ve only just begun.

Down at the edge of the water was a small hut with a “do not disturb” sign tacked to the door.  As he drew closer, he started to hear muffled music coming from within, and unconsciously slowed his steps to better absorb it.

“…and though we finally see the light

It’s way too soon to give up on this fight

We’re all still trapped in this nation—

This state of suffocation.”

Ulwin smiled.  He recognized the voice as—

“RAAAAGH!!”

He recoiled.  The shout was followed immediately by a loud crash.  In a panic, he threw open the door and said, “Are you alright?!”

The only person inside the hut, Carna, whirled to face him; she had her teeth bared in a furious snarl, and her bloodshot eyes seemed to shine with eerie light.  A music player, still serenading them undaunted, sat on a small table on one side of the hut, while at the other a heap of canvases sprawled out over the floor.  One of the sheets rested on a stand surrounded by cans of paint and a stool.  Next to the stool lay the remnants of a clay pot, scattered across a murky puddle along with a frayed paint brush.

An awkward tension pulled at Ulwin’s muscles.  “…I…heard something break, so I…”

Carna turned, put a hand over her face, and let out one very long sigh.  “…It’s fine.  Everything’s fine.”

She turned off the music and then began picking up the clay fragments.  Ulwin stooped down to help her, saying, “Um…pardon my intrusion, then.”

Carna picked up her brush and examined it.  “…I’m guessing Natan sent you?”

“Well, Basaik was the one I spoke with, but she, uh, did ask me to see how your progress was coming along.”

Carna clenched her fist around her brush.  “It isn’t.”

“Ah.”  Ulwin cleared his throat.  “Well, they haven’t finalized things on their end yet either—Basaik was just curious.”

With a hum, Carna resumed cleaning up.

“…If, ah…if you’re having some trouble, I’d be more than happy to help.”

She dumped the fragments onto the table and came back with a rag.  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Oh, um, alright.”  Ulwin picked up the final piece and went to add his collection to Carna’s.  “…Perhaps someone else from Nynrah would be of more assistance?  I could fetch them for you.”

Carna sighed again.

“Er, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Just…!”  Carna pinched her nose.  “…I’m sorry, I…I’m not exactly patient on a good day, and today is…not a good day.”

Ulwin shifted his weight, trying to construct a response.

“…I’ve got nothing.  I sure talked a big game, setting up this grand idea, telling the band I’d come up with the perfect cover art for their album…but I’ve got nothing.”

“Oh…I see.”  Ulwin’s gaze combed over the pile of canvases: some were still blank, but the majority had big splashes of paint blotting out unfinished images he struggled to make out.  The one currently on the stand depicted a half-complete grove of evergreen trees behind erratic crimson zig-zags.

“It’s like it’s just gone.”  Carna sat down on the floor, gazing wearily up at the still-wet paint.  “Like I lost my entire ability to create, somehow.  I keep digging deeper and deeper, but there’s just nothing there.”

The hut went silent for a few seconds.  Then, Ulwin sat down next to Carna, saying, “Miss Carna…you’ve been through enough events to fill a lifetime in only a matter of months.  It’s only natural such a thing would exact a toll on you.”

Carna hung her head.  “Isn’t trauma supposed to be great inspiration for art?  If anything I should be at the top of my game right now.”

Ulwin averted his gaze, tilting his head slightly.  “Art is…can be a very useful tool for dealing with trauma, certainly.  Personally, I don’t subscribe to the theory that it’s some natural, effortless reaction.  Trauma can damage any tool, art included, and when that happens, that tool must be repaired before it can be put back to use.”

Carna glanced at him.

“Well, not entirely repaired, of course, that’d be asking the impossible.  But the damage can only worsen if you keep trying to wield the tool without taking any steps to mend it.  Feeling a lack of creativity is excrutiatingly frustrating…especially if that creativity is part of how we’ve come to define ourselves, or if the project in front of us is one we care deeply about…or if we feel we’re letting others down by making them wait.  It’s very easy to blame oneself.”

She looked back down, strangling the rag in her hands.

“But that ease is not justification.  Our instinct may be to blame ourself, but none of that blame is truly ours.  No one should have to apologize for the wounds they bear, or the limits those wounds impose.  This is no different.  We all have the right to feel pain.”

Carna said nothing; she stared blankly at the floor and finally relaxed her grip on the rag, but she didn’t say a single word.

“…I’ll leave you be.  Please forgive me if I spoke out of turn.”

He got up to leave, careful to avoid tracking the murky puddle along with him.  As he grabbed the door, Carna quietly said, “Ulwin.”

He looked over his shoulder.

“…Thank you.”

Ulwin nodded.  “My pleasure.”

***

The protosteel walls of Atero loomed high over the desert sands.  At Zaekura’s command, the rebel army came to a halt at the edge of the rampart’s shadow, and the Glatorian waved her Peace banner back and forth in the sunlight.  When Miserix emerged with a banner of his own, she, the Sand Lord, and Pridak waded into the darkness to greet him.

“So…you’re Zaekura,” Miserix said, looking down his nose at her.  “That you’ve managed to come this far defies all logic.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Zaekura said.  “Thought we’d pay you a visit before you had the chance to launch another surprise attack.”

“Hah!  Am I expected to apologize for my tactics?  War is an underhanded business, young one.  One should always expect one’s foes to act as such.”

Zaekura ground her teeth.  “...Well, that’s not what we came to discuss.  Our goal today is to take control of Atero, and if at all possible, we’d rather do it peacefully.  Is there any way that can be arranged?”

Miserix crossed his arms, saying nothing.

“Your words are wasted on him, Lady Zaekura,” Pridak said, preparing to draw his sword.  “Allow me to attempt an alternative means of persuasion.”

Zaekura turned sharply.  “No!  These banners aren’t set-dressing!  I’ll talk as long as I have to, even if it doesn’t accomplish anything.”

Pridak shrugged and relaxed his sword arm.

She turned back to Miserix.  “Look.  If you’re still this loyal to the Great Beings then I have to assume either you don’t believe the things I’ve said about them, or it doesn’t make a difference to you.  But I’m taking Atero, ‘logic’ be damned; I’m just giving you the option to make it a smoother transition for the sake of your people.  Please, take it.”

Miserix squinted.  “A conqueror who pleads…you are a strange one, without a doubt.  Perhaps others thought you weak, and underestimated you, and that is the secret behind your success.  Let me assure you: you will receive no such quarter here.  No matter the cost, your rebellion dies at Atero’s gates.”

Bright light flashed from his eyes, blinding Zaekura.  Miserix swiped one hand, plasma trailing from his claws, and cut clean through both banners as he closed in on his target.  However, Pridak leapt forward and grabbed his arm with both hands, and, after taking the smallest moment to brace himself, twisted Miserix’s gravity askew and pulled, managing to flip the reptilian Makuta onto the ground.  He immediately sprang up, but Pridak had already flung his seaweed cloak to entangle the Guardian and obscure his vision.  Zaekura was too shocked to do much, so the Sand Lord used her power to pull them both back towards their (now advancing) army.  After suffering a few quick punches, Miserix ripped through the cloak to clamp his claws around Pridak’s neck, but his foe reacted quickly and grabbed him back, leaving them both locked in place struggling to overpower each other.

Soldiers stationed on Atero’s wall opened fire.  Blasts of every Element rained down on the rebel forces, supplemented by shots from catapults and mechanized turrets.  Some of the launched boulders hit the ground ahead of them, the erratic protodermis growths they spawned weaving together to form an extra barrier, but it was almost immediately torn down.  A great tsunami of sand rose up and crashed against Atero’s wall.  The soldiers were shaken, but only briefly.  When a second wave of sand arose, a focused deluge of rain appeared over it, compacting and drowning the sand before it could make its approach.

Up above, Antroz deflected as many attacks as she could—what got past her was easily dealt with by fighters on the ground, but she didn’t want them getting overwhelmed.  She dodged to the side as a procession of Cordak rockets flew at her.  As she turned to face some plasma shots, however, the rockets turned sharply to strike her in the back, the rapid series of impacts keeping her stunned for a good few seconds.  Antroz was shot out of the sky, but one of the larger Rahkshi caught her before she hit the ground; she thanked them before teleporting back into position.

“Homing Cordak rockets,” she mused, spotting another line of them moving in.  “That complicates things.”

She used her Magnetism powers to deal with the rockets, while below, Zaekura watched the firefight with a grim expression.  “Maybe we should use the anti-elemental weapons now?  It would let us rush the gate much more easily.”

“That’s true,” Charla said.  “But I think we should stick to the original plan.  If we start using them now, the Generals might have time to prepare before we can reach them.”

“Right, right.”  Zaekura tapped her foot.  “…Our momentum is starting to slow, though.  Think it’s time to send in Tanzag?”

“I shall contact her at once.”

For all their zeal, the Aterans had left themselves one crucial blindspot: the base of the wall.  That was where five Rahkshi materialized, two with powers of Teleportation to facilitate their appearance; the other three were there for only a moment, however, as light enveloped them and their bodies merged into one.  The resulting Kaita was a towering mantis with six wings on her back, and arms that ended in long, razor-sharp blades.  Her weapons gleamed as she made a series of lightning-fast swipes with them.  A moment later, searing-hot gashes appeared on the wall, cutting open a massive entrance she then dashed straight through.  The Aterans were already moving to cut off access to the breach, distracting them from the approach of another Rahkshi Kaita, this one like a wyvern with an elongated body.  They flew up to the wall’s edge and turned intangible, phasing straight through a long line of turrets and other artillery.  One by one, every device they passed through began to spark and smoke, rendering them all inoperable.

Seeing this, Miserix snarled.  He fired Laser Vision into Pridak’s mask, sending the other Makuta reeling, and used an overhead blow augmented with Sonics to smash him into the ground.  Miserix charged back towards Atero, taking shots at the rebels as he went, until Pridak teleported after him and grabbed him by the tail.  He reeled Miserix in, though Miserix was able to turn the momentum into a powerful kick.  Pridak took the hit and didn’t let go.  After swinging Miserix around, he slammed him into the ground so hard he bounced into the air—but Pridak was quick to seize him in a telekinetic grip and drop him back down.

“Leaving so soon?” Pridak asked.  “You wound me, Miserix.  Aren’t you as eager as I to see who comes out on top when we test our might?”

Blades of solid light rained down on him.  Exerting his own Light powers, he just barely diverted them all.  Miserix then materialized in front of him, one electrified fist drawn back, and said, “I am not.”

He punched Pridak into one of the blades and then called up vines to restrain him.  Pridak broke free easily, swiping and missing, and then let Miserix get in close before knocking his mask askew.  Miserix retreated and hurriedly righted his Kanohi.

“Pity,” Pridak said.  “Either way…we’re going to find out.”

Pridak ran forward, appearing to split into three as he closed the distance.  With a snort, Miserix swung one hand through the air, conjuring a wave of plasma to carve a trench where Pridak and his illusions stood.  He tilted his head to one side—Pridak thrust his sword out the moment he materialized behind Miserix, but the blade met empty space, until Miserix reached up and ripped it from his foe’s hands.

“You’ve always been far too pushy, Pridak,” Miserix said as he dodged an incoming storm of blows.  “Fine: see what happens once your sad excuse for an army trespasses into Atero.  Let’s fight.  Watch your ego die miserably before the rest of you is snuffed out.”

Miserix jabbed once.  Pridak dodged, then dodged again as his own sword swung towards him.  Miserix rushed him shoulder-first, and he braced himself to take the impact and counterattack.  He was caught off-guard as his foe’s free hand stretched out with the power of Elasticity, hitting him in the side just enough to disrupt his balance so Miserix could tackle him.  Pridak tried to grab Miserix before he could withdraw, but the other Makuta phased through his grasp, cut him with the stolen blade, and then dealt a heavy punch while using his Cyclone powers to fling Pridak away.  After landing hard, Pridak picked himself up—his sword came flying next, and he caught it by the hilt as he glared at Miserix.

“Hmph…enough of that,” he said.  He rent his weapon to shreds with the forces of Magnetism and Gravity.  “A weapon that betrays its owner is no good to me.”

Miserix teleported in front of him and slammed both fists down.  Pridak backed away from the swing and the burst of electricity that sprang up when it hit the ground.  He was quick to charge back in, managing to catch Miserix’s fist as he pursued, though Miserix also caught his fist when he punched with his free hand.  Miserix again attacked with Laser Vision, but this time Pridak turned invulnerable and attacked with his Slow powers, reducing Miserix’s reaction time enough that he was able to connect with a knee and then use his claws to tear a gash in in his armor.  Miserix retaliated with a wide blast of Light to force him back, and then kept his distance.

“Slippery as ever, I see,” Pridak said.

“I could say the same about you,” Miserix said.

“I feel I should inform you, however, that my ego remains in very good health.”

Miserix patched up his armor.  “Feh…I’ll admit to being a little rusty.  But based on everything I’ve seen, my forecast still holds.”

Pridak grinned.  “Heheh…sounds to me you’ve found your enthusiasm.”

Meanwhile, the Atero militia was fending off the rebels’ attempts to enter the breach, though each one of them harbored doubts as to how long their success would last.  If nothing else, this doubt lessened their shock when another Rahkshi Kaita rose above the crowd, this one a tall metal skeleton with long, writhing tendrils extending from the ends of its ribs.  Debris began to move through the air towards the fusion: fragments of Atero’s wall, the singed remains of their artillery, anything that was made of metal that did not already belong to someone.  The scraps all converged, warping and twisted around the Kaita’s bones and melting seamlessly into each other.  In time, the empty space between his bones was filled, with protosteel and exsidian taking the place of skin and muscle; this new body was just as tall as the wall of Atero, and the Kaita wasted no time in using it to furiously pound away at the barrier.  The soldiers at the breach tried to hold their position, but in their distraction they were powerless to stop the incoming Makuta Krika from sweeping them all aside.

“Pardon us!” he called.  Emsar and three Rahkshi were a step behind him, but in a moment they all were gone.

As her allies finally burst into the city, Antroz landed in the courtyard just inside the gate and took stock of the situation.  Many of the soldiers stationed on the wall were coming down to face the invaders, and from the other side, a small number of Velika’s drones came to greet them.  Wanting to stop them before they had a chance to combine, Antroz flew to the nearest drone and plunged her sword down through its body.  It continued to move, if much more slowly, so she used her Plasma powers to reduce it to a puddle of slag before searching for a new target.  Three of the machines were drawing near each other; Antroz prepared to dash at it, but yet another drone appeared and forced her back with a shot from its deadly weapon.  She spared another thought towards the trio to find Alize leaping at them.  The Rahkshi of Magnetism unleashed her unique ability, warding the drones’ metallic bodies from manipulation—they still attempted to combine, but after moving slightly their components locked, unable to contort as needed.  Antroz sighed.

I suppose Bitil was right, she thought.  That should give us the upper hand on these infernal constructs.

She took a moment to slice her attacker into fourths before advancing down Atero’s main road.  To her relief, it seemed the civilians had already evacuated, but at the same time, it struck her as odd that there were not more forces marching down the path.  Soon, however, she sensed one person coming down the road.  Only one.  And immediately she understood why.

No…if she reaches the gate, she’ll slaughter them without a second thought!

Telepathically warning Charla to keep everyone clear of the area, Antroz dropped down to the street and walked forward to meet her foe.  When mere yards separated them, they both stopped, and a long, silent moment passed.

“So you are here,” Gorast said, each word dripping with malicious delight.  “Finally…FINALLY, I get my chance to put you in your place!”

Antroz hesitated, wondering if she should even try.  “…Gorast.  More than anyone else, I understand how fervent you are in your devotion to the Great Beings.”

Gorast unlimbered her scythe.

“I know how difficult it is to have everything you have ever known called into question.”

She drew her axe.

“But please…do not let your loyalty blind you to the truth as I did!”

Her spear was third.

“Ask yourself—not the Great Beings—what you truly believe to be right!”

Finally unsheathing her sword, Gorast held her four arms wide and lowered her body.  “Are you done?”

“…Yes.”  Antroz raised her blade.  “I am.”

Another moment of stillness passed.  Then, each with a ferocious battle cry, the two Makuta lunged towards each other and swung to kill.

#Bionicle #Right of Law

[desktopdust]

Medea Plair, Administrator of the domain of Netova, watches in horror as her country’s sole Server crashes.  Desperate to restore access to the life-giving magic of Ethernet, she implores the neighboring domain of Ducom for help, but when that fails, she is forced to call upon Ducom’s disgraced Admin, Zettabyte, for his own brand of assistance.  The path to Server Ducom will be exhausting in more ways than one, but Medea is determined to uphold her responsibility as a leader no matter the cost.

#Ethernet Admin

[desktopdust]

[Warnings for depression, abuse]

There was some sort of ethereal quality to her beauty, and perhaps that should’ve been warning enough.  But beauty is beauty nonetheless.

Keep reading

#Original Work

[desktopdust]

Right of Law, Section XXXIII

(Preparations for another conflict are made on all sides.)

Keep reading

#Right of Law #Bionicle

[desktopdust]

Right of Law, Section XXXII

(In search of allies, Zaekura ventures into the least hospital place on the planet.)

Keep reading

#Right of Law #Bionicle

[desktopdust]

An Exploration of Legendary Pokémon Classification, and Why Professor Oak is a Hack (Celestica et al, 20??)

She gulped down what little coffee she had left the exact instant she was done yawning.

“Ugh…dammit…”

Cynthia pushed herself up out of her chair.  She stretched, trying to pre-emptively get her muscles awake and ready for the fresh caffeine headed their way, and then turned towards the door.

“…Oh.  Right.”

The polished wood floor of the villa lay hidden beneath a layer of scattered books and paper—references Cynthia had checked once or twice each before moving on to another source and forgetting they ever existed in the first place.  She slowly swung one foot forward, finding the nearest clearing and carefully shifting her balance to stay upright as she began seeking the next.  Progress was agonizingly slow, but one step at a time, Cynthia inched her way across the room, determined to overcome any obstacle standing between her and another tasty, energizing cup of…

“Wait, did I—”

She realized her hands were empty.  Glancing back at the desk, there it was: a tragically empty ceramic mug with a group of painted Gible frolicking on one side. Cynthia snarled as she doubled back to rescue it.

Keep reading

#Pokemon

[desktopdust]

Sick in Fortune

[Hikari has to take it easy while her leg recovers from a mild fracture.  She’s glad to have Karen’s help, but…]

Keep reading

#Revue Starlight #just realized I never reblogged this over here lol

[desktopdust]

A spire of crystal cleaved the sky, sunlight glinting off its edges as it pulsated rhythmically with soft blue light.  She stood at its base looking up in wonder.  Suddenly, her vision clouded.  In an instant, day became night, and the spire’s glow faded, replaced by the orange brilliance of the fires surrounding her.  She found herself on the opposite side of the structure, watching as an immense crack formed down the side of it.  Bolts of energy, sparking like lightning, were hurled from the wound in every direction; one struck the ground to her right—no, it was on her left—no, she was watching from a distance, seeing even more fractures spread across the surface of the towering monolith.

“Madin…”

A stream of light erupted from the side of the crystal.  She saw it from a dozen angles all at once, her perception ultimately settling on watching the light arc directly towards her.  When it struck her head-on, her mind splintered again, this time showing her millions, billions, trillions of different images all at once.

“Madin!”

Every cell of her body burned.  Her consciousness clawed its way past the incoming deluge of information, struggling to again glimpse the spire.  Launching one final bolt skyward, it shattered completely, raining glittering shards in a beautiful display that plunged her heart into pure despair.

“Madin Medea!”

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#original #Ethernet Admin