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arabellaflynn · 2 years

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About a week ago, I went to an open class/open call where they were offering the dancers a free health screening. Sure, why not. The PTs there were super nice and actually knew their stuff -- that group also works with the local circus performers, so they're pretty used to people doing weird shit with their bodies. They had me do a cardio test, a bunch of range of motion stuff, some muscle strength, etc. It told me nothing I didn't already know. I'm extensively hypermobile, mechanically wonky because of it, intolerant of heat and sudden exertion, and all the systems that are supposed to be regulating my heart rate and blood pressure are asleep on the job.

Believe it or not, nobody has ever bothered to run most of those tests on me. By the time I figured out my panoply of issues had a single cause, I was an adult, living in Massachusetts, and my medical care all went through MassHealth. State health care doesn't run expensive tests for funsies, and I got a solid clinical diagnosis of Ehlers-Danlos just from walking in with a folder full of family history and research papers and bending my fingers backwards for some curious doctors, so it wasn't necessary. There's no real utility to putting numbers on just how fucked I am, either. EDS is a genetic disorder. There isn't any way to fix the fundamental cause of all the cascading problems, so standard of care is basically playing whack-a-mole with the symptoms. You're not treating the patient back to an objective standard, you're trying a bunch of things until you either run out of things to try, or the patient says, "Eh, good enough." The symptoms I self-report are not unreasonable for my diagnosis, and I'm not unreasonable about what counts as fixing it, so there's no point in trapping someone in an office with me for twenty very boring minutes while I run on a treadmill.

I left feeling very, very angry.

Not at the PTs; as mentioned, they were great. And I'm not pissed at my body for glitching out either. I've been like this for forty-one consecutive years at this point, and it is what it is. I'd like to think I've gotten the hang of dealing with it by now.

I left angry because I remember being a child, and telling people about all of the things that were wrong with me, and not one single adult in my life bothered to take me seriously. The nice ones gave me a lot of pep talks about having confidence and venturing outside my comfort zone. The shitty ones told me to stop whining and do as they said. None of them went, 'hey, so, this kid keeps complaining about this one thing, it seems kind of weird and worrying, maybe go to the doctor and have it checked out?'

My mother does not like doctors. She doesn't like authority figures generally, but doctors for some reason strike her as especially useless. I don't remember very many medical appointments as a kid. Most of the ones I recall were for ear infections, and I strongly suspect we would not have gone in for those if she'd been able to figure out how to get her hands on amoxicillin on her own. My mother has a half-finished nursing degree (that she didn't want and quit right smack in the middle of) and thinks she knows better. We did go to the ER when I was five and very definitely broke my arm, and I'm told we went when I had salmonella as an infant, but aside from stonkingly obvious emergencies like those, doctor visits just didn't happen.

[Except one. The only doctor visit I didn't have to fight tooth and nail to get was when I was fourteen and mentioned I disliked my acne. Within two weeks, I had seen a PCP, gotten a referral, and was sitting the lobby of a local dermatologist who decorated his waiting room with Looney Tunes animation cels. I liked him; he addressed his questions directly to me, and at one point very politely threw my mother out of the room so I could answer them. That actually turned into a bit of an ordeal -- he tried oral antibiotics first, but it turns out that things that end in -cycline make me barf, so there was a bunch of back and forth before we settled on topical tretinoin, which was itself a PITA to get at the time. Not word one out of my mother about any of it.

Call from college begging for a therapist? Suck it up! Face unattractively bumpy? Clearly important.]

I don't remember if there was an inciting incident, or just an accumulation of smaller insults, but somewhere around the age of ten, I came to the conclusion that help did not exist. Or if it did, no one was going to give any to me. So I just stopped bothering to tell people when things went wrong. If I got sick and had to throw up while my parents were busy or asleep, I just staggered to the bathroom and did it, went back to bed, and informed the adults the next time they cruised by. I had constant nosebleeds as a kid (common symptom of EDS, plus we lived in the desert) and I stuck a wad of Kleenex up my nose and went on with my day.

Since "have my needs respected" apparently wasn't an option, I only had two ways to deal with stuff that did damage: Suck it up and ignore it, or sit the fuck down and refuse to move. I picked the latter more often than you'd think.

It worked best when the person demanding I do something stupid was an authority figure other than a parent -- e.g., a teacher or camp counselor -- because then I could sic my mother on them. My mother loves feeling like she's Sticking It To The Man™. (Note that my mother is a suburban housewife with a backyard pool, hybrid SUV, and a husband who works in aerospace and has to tear apart the house looking for his Selective Service card every few years to re-up his DoD clearance. My mother is The Man. Congruence is not her strong suit.) To her credit, she did always tell me that if the cops ever brought me home in the middle of the night, she would know whatever I did was 100% my idea -- I was an extremely stubborn kid and petrified of getting into any kind of trouble, so if I was openly disobeying a teacher, there was probably a good reason for it.

The supervising adult would threaten, "I'll call your parents," and I would just be like, "Okay, go for it," and then they would magically come up with some other way to resolve the problem, because they had all tangled with my mother at some point, and none of them were eager to do it again. It's possible that they called my father at work once or twice, but he would have just redirected them to my mother, and I'm convinced that the school office drew straws whenever her name came up on the caller ID to see who had to talk to her this time.

On the other hand, anything that so much as mildly inconvenienced my mother was cause for rage. The worst one I can recall was when I was in high school. at a dental appointment. I don't like dentists, partly for the normal reasons and partly because as above-mentioned my mother resents the existence of medical professionals and was incapable of not taking her mood out on her surroundings. For some reason, she though she could just not deal with that part by not telling me about the appointment until we joined it in media res. I don't remember what happened at school that day -- undoubtedly some random teenage bullshit, but when you're a teenager, that bullshit is very important -- but between that, and getting paged out of class unexpectedly as if there were some sort of emergency, and just general DENTIST, I had an absolute meltdown as soon as my butt hit the exam chair.

In retrospect, this was clearly some combination of panic attack and dysautonomia. I was sobbing hysterically and hyperventilating so badly I couldn't have given an answer to the people asking me what was wrong even if had one. I was physically unable to calm down. The dentist was beside herself. She tried everything she could think of, but in the end, I couldn't stop crying long enough to let the poor woman clean my teeth, so they just told us to re-book and come back later.

My mother was a ball of seething, silent, white-hot fury the entire drive home. The dentist and hygienist had sat with me for about a million years, asking me what happened and how they could help. My mother did neither, but did let me know that I had disrupted her entire day, and she was very unhappy that she had to drag me back and do this all over again.

Many years later, I learned that dentists were well aware that they made people anxious, and as long as you had someone handy to drive you home, a lot of them would happily give you some Valium to make the experience less dreadful. There's an excellent chance they asked my mother if they could give her minor daughter some sedatives, and she said no.

I can't decide whether she was better or worse about physical problems. She was objectively very bad. My mother's tolerance for pain and discomfort is unreal. My sister and I have agreed on exactly one thing, ever, in our entire lives, and that thing is: 'If Mom claims something doesn't hurt, do not believe her.' She never bothered to tell dentists when the numbing wore off while they were still drilling. She thought childbirth was easy. She broke hands and feet multiple times as a child, and by her own account she just wrapped a bandage around the offending extremity and ignored it. She did finally admit, in her 50s, that almost a year of chronic kidney stones, complete with stents and multiple lithotripsies, kind of sucked. (She did it to herself. Rather than hit up a doctor when the symptoms of menopause annoyed her, she decided to treat it with a preposterous excess of green veggies and soy products. Which are full of stone-forming oxalates. Oops.) It's not anything like CIPA -- we actually have the infamous redhead gene that eats Novocaine for breakfast and makes sore throat sprays worthless.

I am unsure if her childhood included frank physical abuse. I am inclined to think not, because her social calibration is way the fuck off, and if it had she inevitably would have told us some sort of anecdote about it, thinking it was funny. But it is abundantly clear that her parents were not equipped with an excess of empathy, and that it was drilled into her at a very young age that her pain did not matter. My mother is more 'self-centered teenager' than 'literal sociopath', but that still means she assumes her experience is universal despite all evidence to the contrary -- so if her pain doesn't matter, yours doesn't matter either. To this day, I'm not sure whether she disbelieved me when I told her something hurt, or just didn't think it was all that important.

How much influence other adults would have had on my overall medical care, I don't know; my mother did have my insurance card hostage, after all. But I am still very, very angry at all the people who told me that my pain and discomfort weren't real, and I was just making them up to be difficult. I have permanent ligament damage in both arches because of a PE teacher who insisted that I run (well, "run") a mile even as I was gasping for breath and literally dragging my toes with every step, unable to lift my feet properly. Another PE teacher rolled her eyes and called me lazy when I spent most of seventh grade on crutches after re-injuring what the first one did. (To clarify, we did not go to a doctor to get the crutches -- my mother cadged them from a friend who had broken a foot sometime earlier, and forged my PE excuse note. Also to clarify, we had excellent health insurance that would absolutely have covered 'kid can't walk right, get foot x-rays at urgent care and issue mobility aids'.)

I avoided anything even remotely resembling exercise for decades, because I knew it would go just like my academics did. Agreeing to anything would start an endless round of the adults badgering me to do more and try harder. No achievement would ever be enough. As soon as they got one 'yes' I wouldn't be allowed to say 'no' anymore, and the only way to make it stop would be to go completely on strike, let them be mad, and wait until they got distracted and went to go yell at someone else.

Unbelievably enough, I do feel a bit sorry for my mother. In hindsight, she has pretty much the same core set of symptoms as me, as do her sisters, and as did her mother. I have limited knowledge of the rest of the family, but every blood relative on that side has shown at least some signs that I know of. A lot of the dysfunction around medical stuff stems from her just never having experienced anything different, and not knowing that none of this is normal. The unforgivable part is her reaction when I came to her with the problem. Instead of helping me find ways to cope, or even just sympathizing with me and agreeing that it sucked, she screamed at me to shut up. She genuinely thinks that everyone in the world is walking around in this amount of distress, all the time, and that trying to not be in this amount of distress is childish and entitled, like demanding that the world bring you a constant stream of food so that you never have to feel the slightest bit hungry.

I'm sorry that she's that miserable, and feels compelled to suffer alone. But she could have chosen to behave better, and did not. Her isolation, at least as an adult, is her own damn fault.

Why the other grown-ups thought I was malingering, I have no idea. I seemed too young to have the problems I claimed? They were used to me being compliant and had no plan for my insubordination? General assumption that children are lazy and manipulative liars? Not a clue. But they all dismissed me without running any of the tests that would have proven I was telling the truth. I sincerely want to take the packet the PT gave me at the screening, roll it tightly into a cylinder, go back in time, and smack each and every one of them with it, repeatedly, until they understand what they did wrong.

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darkwithasharpenededge · 4 months

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So You're Telling Me TikTok Is Obsessed With What Basically Amounts To Decent Wattpad Fiction: A Review of Heart Bones by Colleen Hoover

Rating: 63/100

Summary: Honestly I expected worse. There isn't anything particularly egregious about any of the content. Is it great? Absolutely not, not in any way. But it's not unique in its awfulness which I thought it might be after all the complaints I heard, and it's actually better than I thought it was going to be. Spoilers below the cut, I guess.

First let's take a second to get this out of the way before I start. The main character's first name is Beyah Grim, of all the incredibly stupid things. Everyone else has normal names, she's the only one with a stupid name.

Plot: Beyah's drug addict mother died and she moved to Texas to live with her father. She lies about her mother being dead. Her new stepsister tries to set her up with the rich neighbor boy next door. She is resistant to this at first but very quickly they end up falling for each other anyway, because they can see that they're both damaged. Blah blah blah. She finds out that actually he lives in the house next door illegally and is breaking and entering, when he's arrested straight out of bed after they have sex for the first time, because of course. He goes to jail for four years. Beyah goes off to college and is reunited with him at the end of the book after four years of no contact. It reminds me a lot of a very specific type of Wattpad original fiction. What it tells me is that none of these TikTok girls ever read anything on Wattpad during the glory days, before most of the good stuff on there got scooped up for publication and/or paywalled on Wattpad itself and you could read mid-tier romance novels in need of an editing pass for free as long as you knew how best to utilize the site to find them and stayed away from stuff marked "My Mafia Billionaire Bad Boy Loves Me". It's really not that bad. If I read this on Wattpad I would have thought it was pretty good. But of course, I read this in a paperback book, so it was just okay. I would have given it 2.5 stars instead of 3, if Beyah hadn't ended up going to college after all. I really thought for a second there that she wasn't going to go and she was going to stay in Texas to be near Samson, but she didn't! So it went up a half star out of sheer surprise.

Cheesiness: This book is full of just the most awful cheesy lines known to man. The title comes from a conversation the main characters have about how their hearts must have grown bones because they're broken over leaving each other. Gag. Awful awful stuff.

Final Verdict: Really? This is it? What's the hype about Colleen Hoover's novels being spectacularly toxic and awful or whatever? This was fine. There's worse.

Review Word Count: 492

#void's 2024 reads #score range: 60s #author: Colleen Hoover #genre: romance

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fahrni · 1 year

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Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning! It’s Christmas Eve – for those who celebrate!

Look, I’m a native California boy. It’s mostly sunshine and warm weather year round. Sure we’d get down in the high 20s overnight on rare occasion, but nothing like we’ve experienced in Virginia this week. It’s been pretty darned frigid. The temperature at the moment is a balmy 8 degrees outside, with a feels like of -7. That’s just wild!

Anywho, first cup of coffee is in the mug. Time to compose the post. ☕️

Mike Hurley

Many people using PCalc on their shiny devices today don’t realise that the app has been around for a lot longer than they think. In some cases, a lot longer than they’ve been thinking.

Happy Birthday PCalc! 🎂

It’s impressive to have an active 30 year run with a piece of software. Congratulations on 30 years and counting James Thomson!

Craig Hockenberry

By now, you probably know where this is going: yes, I wrote my own utility and call it SimBuddy. It’s a FREE download from the Iconfactory.

Craig Hockenberry is a long time Mac and iOS Developer. He’s best known as the creator of the first Twitter client, Twitterrific, but he’s also developed many fun and useful apps for the Iconfactory.

If Apple gave out lifetime achievement awards, Craig would be deserving of one.

Thanks for another great development tool, Craig!

Joel Spolsky

Well, yes. They did. They did it by making the single worst strategic mistake that any software company can make: They decided to rewrite the code from scratch.

This is an oldie-but-goodie. The Joel on Software piece above is from 2000 and touches on something that can destroy a company quicker than anything: rewriting software.

The article was brought up somewhere this week because Musk is reportedly looking to rewrite Twitter.

I mean, dang, dude! Maybe try to understand how all the things work together before jumping to that conclusion. A lot of cool stuff was happening before you blew the place up.

Randomly thinking back to my time at Apple. In 2013 when the iOS side of iTunes U, Podcasts, App Store, and Remote were owned by a team of 7 engineers. Each app source in a different source control. I was lead for iTunes U. I was told a few things by my new manager 1) Don't …

— @[email protected] the new Taquitos (@taquitos) December 5, 2022

I’ve been trying to stay away from linking to Twitter but I couldn’t resist this tweet because it captures something a lot of modern devs should hear.

Basically the tweet thread goes on to explain how broken Apple’s development process was broken on a particular team.

I’m not saying alternate forms of development are necessarily bad but grinding devs into the ground is not good, at all. People need time to live, and sleep.

Futurism

It’s not just Tesla investors who are at their wit’s end with CEO Elon Musk, who has been making a huge mess of his Twitter takeover.

Ah, yes, The Musk Effect. He’s dragging Tesla down with Twitter and I’m shocked the Tesla Board hasn’t fired him.

Tech Dirt

But, really, after all this, I cannot fathom how anyone can possibly get all that excited about joining yet another centralized social media site. Perhaps I’m biased (note: I am biased) because it was my frustration with the problems of these big, centralized social media services that made me write my Protocols, Not Platforms paper a few years ago. But, after all of that, the big question that kept coming up about it was “sure, but how would you get anyone to actually use it.”

Here’s to the Open Web making a comeback! We now have Mastodon and Micro.blog to fill our Twitter mojo and both run on open standards like ActivityPub and RSS.

Dare Obasanjo

A friend asked what I think will happen to Twitter. Here’s my assessment

Nice little Mastodon thread from Dare sharing his thoughts on the Twitter mess.

Denise Yu

You’d like to have time to code, but nobody else is onboarding the junior engineers, updating the roadmap, talking to the users, noticing the things that got dropped, asking questions on design documents, and making sure that everyone’s going roughly in the same direction.

This piece from Denice is required reading for any Software Developer. It explores the position know as Staff Engineer or Principle Engineer in many companies today.

At WillowTree was have a dual track for Software Developers after the Senior level; Staff Engineer or Associate Engineering Director.

I personally reached a point where I decided it was time to change direction and focus on building teams instead of coding, so I became an Associate Engineering Director.

It is interesting to note the Staff and Director positions overlap in significant ways but also have very unique traits. The Director position is a people management and team building position, the Staff position does deep dives into technology and can master just about anything.

Anywho, go read Denise’s piece, it’s very good.

Alexandre Colucci

Like in the past years, I will try to answer a couple of questions: How many binaries are in iOS 16? Which programming languages are used to develop these apps? How many apps are written with Swift? What is the percentage of apps using SwiftUI versus UIKit?

I had to share this because I too find it interesting to know how much Apple is eating their own dog food when it comes to their developer technologies.

Swift seems to be making real inroads and SwiftUI (worst name ever) is starting to show itself.

I’ve been thinking about doing Stream for Mac with SwiftUI. It is the future of development on the Mac and iOS. All devs need to learn it at some point.

Dan Sinker

Newsrooms should not spin up instances for their reporters partially because this is too new to dedicate strapped staff to

I’ve been pushing the idea of news companies spinning up their own Mastodon servers. Dan does make a good point about not doing that. If Mastodon could be enhanced to export all posts to another instance I have a feeling Dan wouldn’t be as opposed to the idea. As it stands you can move instances but it only keeps your followers, you lose your posts. That’s no bueno.

Adam Davidson

We want the field of journalism to take ownership of the ways stories are distributed and audiences are engaged.

With the most recent flight of users from Twitter Mr. Davidson spun up an instance of Mastodon for journalists. That was a brilliant idea and provides a bit of distance from the journalist to their organization. It’s a great alternative to news orgs spinning up their own.

The Atlantic

There has never been any mystery about what happened on January 6, 2021. As Senator Mitch McConnell said at Trump’s second impeachment trial, “There’s no question—none—that President Trump is practically and morally responsible for provoking the events of the day.”

In many ways I’ve lost confidence in our Justice system because it treats the rich, politicians, and white people differently than everyone else. Combine more than one of those traits and you’re likely to walk away unscathed where someone who works at the coffee shop, is poor, and dark skinned is totally screwed.

It’s not right. TFG must be brought to Justice. Our system requires it if our democracy is to survive.

Ghost Only

How to have a good internet experience in 8 easy steps

I usually avoid posts that include “steps” or “X reasons” because they’re usually really bad click bait type articles. This one isn’t. Go check it out.

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desertpark03 · 1 year

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trustblast · 2 years

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bitcofun · 2 years

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Source: AdobeStock/ alfa27 Sergey Vasylchuk is the Co-founder & & CEO of the staking service provider Everstake __________ Crypto winter season, economic crisis, or bearishness are simply a few of rather various names that the media utilizes to explain the existing circumstance. Even though it's not the very first time this has actually taken place, you might be positive that someone is smugly discussing the so-called "blew up bubble" while others, with little importance, reveal yet another death of Bitcoin (BTC), the 459 th, in truth, a minimum of at the time of composing. For those people who have actually remained in crypto for 8 years, like me, or perhaps more ancient animals, everything looks painfully familiar. As I composed somewhere else, the marketplace is practically a living thing that requires to take in order to survive. What some scribblers call a bearishness is, in reality, the breathing out stage that when again purges pipe-dreamers and self-assigned crypto masters into oblivion, leaving just those who are major about working and producing real items that the market requires. Like it or not, the free enterprise is practically Darwinist, and you need to constantly adjust and keep an eager eye on things in order to make it through or perhaps flourish. That stated, it's the 2nd crypto winter season for Everstake, counting the one when it was born as a business back in2017 How we endured them is not a special dish. I do think that if you occurred to ask business like Coca-Cola, JP Morgan, or BMW how they endured whatever life and market tossed at them, they would have responded to basically the exact same. So, here's how business endure market declines. Be helpful and bring worth This is the very first product on the list for a basic factor. Unless you in fact do something beneficial, i.e. something individuals really require or view as important, you will not stick around on the marketplace for long. It will not even take a small economic downturn to move you away. No matter whether you use service or products, whether you work online or in brick-and-mortar stores, whether you develop or offer, it's all the very same. Unless you have effectiveness that your clients can feel and worth, you're out. And if you believe you have it, however your consumers [disagree], then you should be seriously incorrect either in approximating your effectiveness or in the method you work. In either case, it's time to stop and believe. Solve issues and expect threats I think there is no such thing as a helpless situation. As I frequently describe, any crypto business owner worth their weight in Bitcoin, and, honestly, even any entrepreneur should understand that difficult times are inescapable and make due preparations. We at Everstake never ever understood when or whence the problem will come, however we understood it will do. We had lots of crisis management steps in location waiting to snap into action when winter season comes. That is why I'm positive that we will not simply make it through another bearishness, however we will likewise come out more powerful. So, if you're undoubtedly severe about your organization, you will not simply resolve issues that undoubtedly occur. You will predict them and have a service on hand when it's most required. Often it implies truly effort. But just those who in fact strive to fix even the most demonic cul-de-sac really dominate. Even if the issue is too huge, the business will have the ability to conquer it while acquiring something far more important: experience. One of my preferred examples is Fujifilm It utilized to be amongst the world's greatest producers of picture movie for years, beginning as early as the 1930 s. Nothing appeared to threaten its company, however they branched off nevertheless, comprehending one easy fact: no matter how positive you might feel, whatever can alter in an immediate. Therefore it did when digital photography happened in the early 2000 s exterminating a whole market of analog photography in a matter of a number of years.

Fujifilm's branching-out technique worked out. Unlike its previous arch-competitor Kodak, which drew its dying breath some 10 years earlier, Fujifilm is still extremely effective nowadays offering medical imaging products and other highly-demanded products rather acquired of their initial item. That's a lesson any service ought to discover. Love all your consumers Yet another pseudo-platitude that some company owner appear to overlook (and at a massive cost, I should include.) It does not suggest that you need to feel great about your clients. It implies that you should keep them in your mind. You need to appreciate them. You need to develop something that would maintain the faithful ones and bring brand-new ones. Simply put, you need to be actively associated with making them pleased. At the end of the day, it's the consumers that make your organization exist in the very first location. Reveal them how grateful you are and how much you enjoy and appreciate them. Respect your financiers Everstake never ever raised funds for its own sake (though we did it for Ukraine), neither from the neighborhood nor from endeavor financiers. Still, not all business are fortunate adequate to be totally independent. And despite the fact that we pride ourselves on having the ability to conquer our issues without outdoors monetary assistance, the concepts above determine that this choice is never ever actually off the table. Respect is the supreme quality you require when it pertains to outdoors financial investment into your business. There is a case in point that I remember every so often. Back in 1997, Apple was ravaged. It lay in ruins, a pale shadow of its previous self. In a relocation that consequently showed fantastic, Apple revived Steve Jobs to reanimate them. And what he did showed that service isn't constantly about banal competitors. He called his frenemy Bill Gates of Microsoft and worked out a USD 150 million financial investment. Our more youthful contemporaries may be surprised to discover that Microsoft conserved Apple from particular death, however therein lies the lesson I'm speaking about. The world today, the massive market of applications, the extremely presence of smart devices as we understand them-- everything would have been at least really various, if just existed, if Steve Jobs and Bill Gates had not shared extensive shared regard. That is what drives the whole world forward. And we should always remember that regard and contracts work wonders. Take care of your workers Last however not least, it's the workers that power up your organization. It's them that really make business occur. And, though I currently talked at length about threat and crisis management, I'll restate it when again due to its important significance for any service. These are a few of the supreme types of appreciating your workers. If you appropriately prepare yourself for winter season, you do not need to lay any person off. You can ensure that your workers and their households will have a brighter future. This is what looking after your staff members indicates. Therefore does producing healthy and motivating workplace. Or guaranteeing their security, such as when we began moving our individuals in anticipation of the looming intrusion of Russia This is the care. Not unlimited sessions with so-called company coaches or business anthems. Conclusion My ideas here might appear threadbare, however what I see in reality recommends that a huge wide range of other business simply disregard some or all of those concepts although they are vital for a business's survival. The cost for this disregard is high however basic: when the winter season comes, you adhere death. It's the excellent old Aesop's myth of the Grasshopper and the Ant. And it stays real in our days, too. ____ Read More

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angelsndragons · 3 years

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*sing* it's been ~a while~

and i have been watching vm vs the nein a lot so let's talk about it. as always with me, this is a very long word vomit.

i said over on my mechanics post that the vm playbook requires urgency while the nein's playbook requires setup. here's what i mean. if the nein can make it to round 3-4 intact, that is if all of them are up, they are going to win. period. the nein simply have too many ways to steal turns from their enemies or to maximize their own effectiveness for things to go any other way.

if you want to see this in action even with a reduced roster, go watch the fire elemental fight in episode 129 and count the rounds. between caduceus' mass cure wounds and spirit guardians, caleb's slow, veth's sneak attacks, and jester's guiding bolts, the nein were able to scrape out a win thanks more to their bag of tricks than the damage output. veth only got sneak attack because of guiding bolt's secondary effects, slow kept veth safe from an opportunity attack and jester from a multi-attack, mass cure wounds gave caleb that round to cast slow, and the spirit guardians passively whittled down the enemies into KO range. the accumulated secondary effects were too much for the enemies to withstand and they fell hard. notice how everything built on one another here. that's what cockroach parties learn to do well. it was sloppier than a normal nein fight but they did it with a reduced roster AND with nearly all of their high level spell slots spent before the fight. yeah, they're fucking scary.

vm, however, is a whole different kind of scary. this team can put you down before you even know what's happening. it's harder to target the group's biggest damage dealers because you have a hulking barbarian and often an elemental up front locking down combatants. the dagger rogue can teleport and fly. oh, and give himself an extra action each round. the ranger and the gunslinger can stand back and just go to town. the freaking bear can maul you. the bard can make your life a living joke in your final moments. the cleric is a wildcard because the group is built to fight without her; if she's around, good luck because that's another round of attacks you have to take and an extra round vm can take. their DCs are ridiculous, as are their overall ACs.

but the thing to know about vm is that they have to put you down fast. they don't have the hit points for longer fights and they definitely don't have the utility for longer fights. their druid is offensively oriented, their cleric is often absent, and their bard is mostly support. he's often the only one running that bag of tricks. he can and will fuck up an opposing team given the chance and bolster his own, the problem is that he has almost no backup here. it's a giant hole that is begging to be exploited. it's an even bigger hole when that bard can only cast one spell per round.

so, going into the battle royale, the vm side had to down one member of the nein as fast as possible preferably in two rounds or fewer. it almost doesn't matter who, because if you down beau or fjord, that forces jester or fjord to spend their action or spell getting the downed member back up. if jester goes down, fjord has to do something about it. well, i say it almost doesn't matter but beau's deflect missiles makes her the worst target of the trio and yes, i'm including fjord's half-orc bounce back in that calculation. that gives you one round where the person healing isn't fucking up your team. vm's secondary objective was to monitor and control beau. her movement is nothing to compared to a hasted vax but her stunning strike is the most lethal weapon the nein brought into this fight. vm overall is not a melee group to begin with and their con saves are all garbage. vm has to find a way to keep her off their tails if they want a chance. we also know that vm's plan was to try to take out jester first so throw that objective into the mix as well.

all the nein have to do is survive the first couple rounds, monitor scanlan and pike, and get into position. that's basically it. the nein can absolutely withstand vax and percy's damage output for the first two rounds. pike and scanlan's damage output can be scary but pike in particular has to decide whether she wants to hold high level slots for healing. and she would need those higher level slots to get close to percy and vax's damage output. the nein know from experience that the support caster is where the real trouble will begin.

but before we kick things off, remember that matt specifically designed this battlefield to take turns away from the teams. the chests are an action to search and are located far out of the way in the field. the gem requires an action to activate, which basically means sacrificing your action for someone else's, and shifts between six designated points on the field. matt, who has a deep understanding of how both teams operate, decided to play on the nein's insecurities that they were at a severe item disadvantage and see if he could get them to bite. high risk, high reward. granted, this is me speculating but it does look like matt saw the fight very differently from the players and readjusted the field accordingly.

so we kick off and immediately scanlan proves why he is the top priority on the nein's list. he gets the gem, gets fjord prone on the ground, and comes within a hair's breadth of turning the fight into a five on two potential slaughter. travis brilliantly responds to these circumstances in the best of ways. see, fjord isn't the nein's utility magician for this fight; fjord's the bait. travis makes a very big spectacle of himself and fjord's predicament. and vm buys it hook, line, and sinker. ashley tries to continue with the original plan of gunning for jester only to discover that jester is who knows where.

vax, percy and scanlan? immediately take their shots at fjord. but fjord's on the ground which puts percy's awful misfire mechanic into reasonable play. so fjord gets lucky and doesn't take anywhere near the amount of damage he could have from percy. scanlan, after percy is removed from the field, decides he's better off trying to finish fjord but only hits a 3rd level thunder wave instead of a higher level one, which sam was probably saving for some counterspells or such. i don't think a higher level would have made that much of a difference but it is important to note.

more importantly, vax gets greedy. he got two good hits on fjord with his two actions, he could have left and hidden for the next turn. yes, vm has to down fjord as fast as possible. however that haste is going to be more effective over the long term if vax can keep it. but fjord's easy prey and he thinks vm can down him before jester can get over there to do anything about it. so he goes for the bonus action attack. pike eventually joins this mad dash scramble and like scanlan, she absolutely needed to throw something huge at fjord to get past his half-orc racial trait to have a prayer at downing him. but she did not because ashley seems to have been saving all her high levels for healing so fjord survives the round in honestly a very good position. vax can't target him from range with the cloud up, scanlan now has bigger problems than fjord with molly right up on him, and pike ran, taking damage and healing fjord in the process.

meanwhile, the nein's ladies are free to run and play the field as they see fit. jester has a big opening round flame strike. beau decides she can hold off on her round 2 blitz run to vm in favor of bringing molly onto the field. remember kids, never let a monk with 55ft of movement have the run of the place, it's bad for business. jester then makes a great play with her dispel magic at vax's haste. hashtag thanks, fjord. remember, kids, cockroach parties excel at taking turns and actions away from their opponents. in round 2 alone, the nein successfully remove percy from the field and remove vax's extra attack. that's both big damage dealers hobbled in one round. they also gave themselves an extra turn, adding molly onto the field. and oh boy, molly.

here we see the utility martial fighter molly could have been. sam's confused by the low damage that molly's doing his first round but the damage isn't really the point of the attacks. that brand of tethering is far more important, as are taliesin keeping an eye on which reactions will support the nein and molly's second attack wasting scanlan's reaction. counterspell is off the table for the back half of round 2-beginning of round 3, which is important if fjord wants to get the heck out of dodge.

in case it wasn't obvious earlier in the match that the nein are absolutely gunning for scanlan, round 3 begins with beau's blitz against scanlan. fjord's luck against the dominate person balances out with scanlan's save against the stun and beau missing one attack. here, vm starts to get distracted. they chose their focus fire target, fjord, but now do not, arguably cannot, follow through on it. we'll never know what could have happened had vm said to hell with beau and molly in our faces, we have to finish fjord.

vax tries to retaliate against beau but here's where the cockroach starts to come into play. molly blood curses vax, which saves beau a full sneak attack+ worth of damage. it also utterly wastes vax's turn. fjord manages to escape (and damage pike while he's at it) and regroup where it's safe. scanlan tries to dimension door but fails due to the brand. literally any other move scanlan could try on the pair of them had a better chance of success. instead, another vm turn is lost. taliesin recognizes the importance of getting beau advantage and supports her at the cost of two of his attacks missing, but not before scanlan is forced to cutting words one of them. another potential counterspell and cutting words lost. neither jester or pike contribute significantly to this round; the nein have done so much damage to pike in three rounds that she is forced to heal herself while jester chooses to dimension door herself to the gem and only a low damage roll lets it evade her.

beau takes molly's setup and gets the critical scanlan stun. he loses his full round. fjord takes the opportunity molly provided him to polymorph into a t-rex, bringing him fully back into the fight. vm is really going to have a time and a half trying to finish him now unless they can put up a big single damage attack. jester builds on beau's setup by casting flame strike, whose dex save scanlan automatically fails. he goes down. if you're the nein, this is exactly where you want pike focused, on her team and not on yours. she has access to most of the same spells that jester has and the more you pressure her to focus on her team, the better. it's not wasting her turn, precisely, but it is controlling what she can reasonably do with it.

now we come to percy versus beau. i don't want to diminish the insane good luck beau had to take only 26 points of damage from six shots because what matters here is that percy absolutely could not down beau. period. her hit points were too high and after she took almost nothing from the first two shots, it should have been clear that she was going to get her turn and she would absolutely attempt to stun and down pike and scanlan. i'm not going to monday morning quarterback this fight but i will point out that the more rolls travis has to make to maintain concentration, the greater the chance he fails and you get to hit fjord's actual hit point pool and trade fjord for scanlan. and if you can get him before he can get back into the fray, even better.

beau stuns the gnomes and drops scanlan again. her inner cockroach rears its head once more as she negates more than half the damage on vax's critical hit sneak attack. fjord-rex downs scanlan and grapples pike. the stun on pike here really helps negate that high AC of hers. after scanlan's death, it's a long slow death spiral. vax abandons the fight in the next critical round in favor of keeping the gem instead of targeting fjord. percy attacks beau once more instead of fjord due to fjord dangling pike over lava. he starts to focus on fjord only to get distracted by jester. pike goes down but vax gets caught by beau before he can get her back up. and so it goes with vm losing turn after turn after turn until finally the nein poof percy out of existence and bring molly back. a fitting end for the team who started their final boss fight with eight and came out nine.

bottom line here, the vm team played like they had way more time than they actually did. they had to commit to a target and see it dead as fast as possible. they had to control the battlefield quickly and keep it. they didn't so they couldn't. aside from building on damage dealt, they couldn't create advantages or opportunities for each other nearly as effectively as nein did. all of these factors meant that the nein did what they always do: grind their enemies under heel.

#critical role #cr meta #critical role spoilers #vm vs m9 #vox machina vs mighty nein #d&d mechanics #vox machina #mighty nein #the mighty nein #cr spoilers #my meta #long post #don't let your opponents run circles around you kids #control the battlefield or the enemy will control you #teamwork makes the dream work

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husbandohunter · 3 years

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Stardew Impact [Stardew Valley+Genshin Impact x Reader]

Part 2/3 Zhongli, Xiao

Synopsis: “A mysterious phenomenon brought you and your s/o to an unfamiliar world: Pelican Town! Without the power of Visions, the two of you begin to learn the life of what it takes to be...a farmer?”

(DOMESTIC FARM LIFE ROUND TWO)

Genre: Fluff

Others

Diluc and Kaeya

Albedo and Childe

(A/n): This was meant to be part 3 but I couldn't wait to write xiao. Plus Ive been writing Albedo for almost the whole month already Word count_2.6k

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Xiao

• Thrown in an unfamiliar environment puts Xiao on high alert. Instincts kick in and his hand subconciously grabs for his spear. Nothing. Not even his vision activated. Xiao's gaze darts all over before landing on your figure. He sighs in relief, you're safe, that much he can decipher as of now.

• Stripped of his power, left with only claws and teeth (if must) to protect you from any dangers, he was ansty with every little thing.

• The villagers are so nice??? For what reason must they have to act so friendly to strangers (Xiao wonders). The Mayor even granted you two a vast farmland free of charge.

• Shortly he realized he no longer had his karmaic debt. Xiao wasn't sure how to live his life in this state. He dedicated his entire existence to years of slaughter and suffering that it became the only thing he knew. He won't admit it of course, he'll just throw in scoffs and remarks about how mundane activities are a waste of time when in reality, he just has no clue on how to handle them.

• Thats why the first day was difficult as you both try to figure out how to plant parnsips. Deciding it was better to go with an experiment, you split the share of seeds in half and used what basic knowledge you had on farming to finish the job. Xiao on the other hand tried copying what you did….though the outcome wasn't so desirable it was a mess. (His trained hands have taught him to be on the rough side).

• He doesn't bother socializing with the townspeople even though he has no karmaic debt to worry about. Xiao thinks you're more than enough anyways so what's the point?

• Robin is the only person who can tolerate him for obvious reasons (cough Sebastian cough) she knows exactly how to deal with his personality type. His glares don't faze her, she simply thinks its just a teenage phase of some sort.

• Eventually they become mutuals, Xiao thinks Robin is similar to Verr Goldet in a way. Since he's the one who does the heavy labour of chopping down trees and mining stones for building upgrades, he gets a chance to visit her house quite often. He comes back with lots of recipes too.

• You find out that his adepti blood never left him. Xiao doesn't need sleep so you better believe it when he tells you the next morning that he spent the whole night watering all 300 of your crops (watering is the only process he's good at for farming).

• Sometimes you catch him staring out of the window, wondering what he may be thinking. Life was so much more different, almost hard to recognize. Was this real? Is it okay for it to be real, just this once? Ever since he committed his duty to Morax, Xiao didn't dream of a time when everything would be peaceful. Yet here he is, no longer a weapon but on a journey to find out what it's like to live as a normal person.

• Spring: Every morning you find him kneeling behind the cabin with the pet cat (yes, cats seem to suit Xiao very much). He just stares at them, hesitant if he wanted to pet their fur or rub their chin. So he continues to glare intensely, scaring your cat away :(

• Whenever you wanted to attend any of the town's festivities, Xiao wouldn't even hide his distastefulness but goes with you regardless. Why do mortals consider hiding eggs and finding them a fun activity? And what kind of a name is Flower Dance? Can't they just call it a dance?

• Though…he does like the sight of you wearing a flower crown. Xiao likes putting stuff in your hair.

Since setting foot upon this new world, time seemed to have slowed down to the point that almost everything felt like an eternity. And you didn't mind, with him by your side, you wouldn't mind if it did last forever.

The lull of the grass was the only sound Xiao could hear as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your lap. You maneuvered across his scalp in small, subtle motions, surprised with how warm he felt against the heat your palm. He stirs a little and lets out a soft breath before turning his face to lay on the side.

You were slightly intrigued by the yaksha's new demeanor. From far away, Xiao was an intimidating man, even during the first time you laid eyes him, his presence felt similar to a knife pointing at anyone who dares to come too close. But now, the face that usually held his signature annoyance melted into something you never thought you'd see as the sun rays brushed against the surface of his fair skin. You observed the way his dark eyebrows stayed in a relaxed arch. The red crescents lining right above his beautiful long lashes and the sound of soft snores through parted lips. It was hard to believe that this man was the same person who claimed to have ended a thousand lives through thousands of years.

Did he fall asleep already?

Gently moving away the strands away from his cheekbone, hovered your gaze above him and whispered, "I thought adepti don't need rest."

"Hmph," Xiao responds, though there was no harshness in his tone, "Quit trying to be difficult, I didn't tell you to stop."

The smug grin on your face only widens. You lean downward and said to his ear, "And what's the magic word~?"

Xiao sighs at your antics. You were truly pushing your luck today and he simply didn't have the patience to entertain you. Without a warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you down, foreheads pressing until you were but a breath away. The adepti conquers, he does not plead.

• Summer: As expected, your parnsnips weren't able to grow as much. Thus, this season was going to be the one to make up for the lost profit. Xiao is very good at hunting, perhaps the best in the entire town. Though the way he catches fish is rather peculiar, said by the folks. He prefers to carve a spear made of wood and repeatedly stabs the lake until results show. Xiao dislikes the old fashioned way, he says its unproductive and it unecissarily takes too much time.

• But as much as he scared the whole town, they were extremely grateful when he cleaned up the slime issues happening in the mines. You could say that he grew very popular since then and eventually mustered up the courage to greet him a hello whenever he passes by.

• You nudge him to reply back. Xiao usually shoots you a glare but slowly, he learns the courtesy of acknowledging someone's prescence.

• Fall: You woke up to a burnt smell coming from the kitchen. Xiao just thought he would return the favour since you always worked so hard. (He was actually trying to figure out what a 'whisk' was. It was no wonder why there were eggshells in the dish!)

• You realized that Xiao was taking more initation compared to before. At night, when you thought the animals were actively jumping in the barns, the noise was actually from Xiao trying to adjust himself to the ways of tending the field. After learning what TV was, he would always switch to the channel "Livin off the land" to gain some insight. Truly, Xiao was greatful even though he knew he eventually had to return to his duties, he wanted to utilize the current days the best way he could. And what better way was it to just make you happy in return?

• Winter: This was the season to test the accumulation of Xiao's abilities: you caught a cold and he had to manage everything in his own. Xiao scolded you for not wearing enough and being too careless but at the same he considered that you must've been working too hard.

• Goes to Robin for help. She basically became his mom now. Prepares the food and leaves them in the fridge, she teaches Xiao how to use the phone in case he needed any help and also lets him know where all the essentials are.

• Xiao stayed by your side the whole time even though you told him you'd be fine. But he refuses, he may no longer be a gaurdian but he was your gaurdian. That role never changed.

~~x~~

Zhongli

• You wake up on a soft bed with Zhongli sitting at a chair nearby. He hands you a cup of brewed water but you're still blatlantly confused. Seems like everything was taken care of by Zhongli, it ends up with him explaining everything to you.

• The folks instantly assumes you both as a married couple. Who could blame them? He did carry your unconcious body all the way to town while asking for a local doctor. You can bet that the ladies wish they were you at that moment. Zhongli took care of everything, including with the contract with the new farm.

• It didn't take long for you both to adjust to the new lifestyle. Zhongli's accumulated knowledge was enough to last all four seasons. Days past by peacefully as you shared the tasks. He'd place down the stone paths towards the gate and you busied yourself with decorating the house. After that was done, Zhongli would rest upon the rocking chair outside your door (like the grandpa he is) and sometimes you'd join him in one reading session. His voice was soothing, you eventually dipped into a slumber as the evening grew colder. Just like always, your beloved brings his arm to encapsulate you from the wind, brushing his thumb against your skin subconciously while you snore softly into his shoulder.

• In a way, the townsfolk were right. You both do act like a married couple. It's basically domestic life with Zhongli in a nutshell.

• He gets connected with Gunther and lands a role in the Museum. Since he's there so often, Zhongli also manages to be acquainted with Elliot as well. Two men who have a common interest with books while speaking in poetic prose. Their conversation would last for hours to the point Gunther had to kick them out of the library!

• Veeeery good with the children, not in an entertaining way but its just the aura he reeks. Penny usually had trouble dealing with Vincent since he never seems to be able to focus but the minute Zhongli speaks, he's all ears. Not only that he was also very good with the elderly. He even recommended some herbs George could take to soothe his back issues.

• Problem is that he still forgets to bring his wallet and Childe isn't here to save him. So once you stepped foot into the Stardrop Saloon and Gus calls you over, he tells you about the cost he owed to his tab….

• But this tranquil life full of genuinity and deprived of sovereignty, he was overjoyed to be able to spend it with you. Because he knew you were unlike him, that all humans were born with an expiry date. He knew so well that after every new greeting, he would have to face the goodbyes over and over until the world eventually came to an end. He knew you were also going to be part of those many goodbyes while he would still be here.

• But as Zhongli walks amongst the fallen leaves, he remembered the beauty that carries within every new beginning. They brought him to you and he would never hesitate to trade his gnosis for it.

Spring: You shot up your bed when Zhongli blast the TV at full volume. He apologizes, saying that he was simply trying to change the channel. You figured it was best for him to go outside before he somehow glitches the screen until it couldn't repair itself (Robin charges for repairs).

• Every thursday you both go to Pierre's store to complete your grocery shopping. He offers to push the cart as you fill the basket with all the necessities (plus it saves you the trouble of having him tossing whatever he sees without looking at the price tag).

• Every afternoon you order a take out from the Saloon, sharing the meal while sitting at the fountain's edge near the community center. Every evening Zhongli would take you to explore the rest of the vast farmland, discovering places you weren't even aware of. It was no wonder why everyone thought you were a married couple.

• Summer: Since the cabin was too small for a bathroom, you guys would have to travel up the mountains in order to get to the Spa house (cue sweatiness x10).

• The concept of hotsprings was derived from Inazuma so it was no surprise that Liyue eventually took it after him. Zhongli had collected some incense from foraging items over the past few months, he knows whats up. But overall he gives the best bath sessions (hands down) and you were the one who insisted in joining him. He was a gentle and sweet lover, always putting your needs before his. Ancient artifacts and old history books have always been precious to him, he treated you no differently.

The heartbeat of the oceans continues to rock back and forth until they brush up on the sandy shore, washing away the two pairs of footprints left behind by a man and a woman.

Gold against gold, his amber eyes reflected against the scenery. Millions of lights flashed among the sea when the sun began to climb down from the sky, it's rays hugged across the valley like an ethereal glow bestowed by the heavens as summer's wind brought even more warmth than what he had currently felt. You trance ahead of with the same light shaping around your form.

"Oh hey there's another rainbow shell," you waved at him before running off, "I'll be back!"

How is it that you still continue to shine like gold in his memories?

Zhongli suddenly ponders at the chapters laying ahead of him. He spent so many years turning each page without ever reaching a conclusion, forever searching the fabled happy endings written in fairytale books, but he knew his immortality wouldn't grant him that wish.

Thus, the formal archon raised his pen and reweaves his own story. He envisions his future with you by his side, engraving every detail until it was immortalized in his memories.

Perhaps I shouldn't keep her waiting.

With a renewed resolve, Zhongli clutches the gemstone tightly in his palm, he seals the page with the final contract between your future and his.

• Fall: After getting your first house upgrade, it was time for the next event: the ceremony. Yes, Zhongli would only have a wedding if Liyue traditions were involved. Everyone was invited of course, they were quite intrigued with the flashy setup such as lanterns and fireworks (you were a little worried with where he got the budget for such items) and Zhongli even educated Gus about some recipes he can use for the Saloon.

• You found out that Zhongli was saving all his money for this day (it was no wonder that he couldn't pay for his tab!). Old habits die hard, it was a shame that he didn't have his powers to craft the right items, but at least he got to sea you in a traditional eastern dress (it's the part he was looming forward to the most).

• Fall is the best season. One you wouldn't forget.

• Winter: Ah he finally learns how to use technology after three seasons. He only knows two channels from the TV which was 'Livin off the Land' and the weather channel. Zhongli oftens talks to himself as he tries to figure out more mechanics, he seems to be extremely absorbed in the most basic things.

• The miner of the house. But instead of using them to upgrade tools and donating them to the museum, Zhongli likes to keep some of them for collection. You could say your house also had a little museum in the other room.

• Romcom movies and soap operas. You can't change my mind that this is what you both spend your time watching as the snowstorm rages outside.

#genshin impact #stardew valley #genshin impact headcanons #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao headcanons #zhongli #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin impact zhongli #genshin xiao #genshin zhongli #nya-writes

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lunar-wandering · 3 years

Text

“this house is a frickin’ nightmare”

so i. decided to write something for the ‘Sitcom’ AU, which is basically just the concept that post-canon, everyone lives in the same house.... its Fun.

Word Count: 2.7k

Read on Ao3

"Monkey King, get down from the fridge."

"No."

This exchange is what drew MK's attention to the fact that something was happening in the kitchen.

In MK's opinion, it was far too early for something to be happening in the kitchen.

"Wukong, I swear, if you don't get down from there-"

"What- you gonna stab me? Pigsy, you know full well that method is ineffective."

"What is going on?" MK asked, entering the kitchen and, well, seeing exactly what he had expected; Wukong crouched on top of the fridge, staring down at Pigsy, who was glaring up at him.

Still though. Just because he'd expected to see it didn't explain why it was happening.

"Oh hey, kid." Wukong said, taking notice of him. "Everything's fine, you can go back to your room, breakfast will be ready soon."

"It would be done already if you hadn't burned it." Pigsy said, gesturing to the charred remains of what supposedly had been breakfast. "Seriously, can't you follow simple instructions?? Now we've gotta start all over."

"It's not my fault I'm a visual learner." Wukong said, his tail swinging back and forth.

"It was three steps-"

"What's going on?"

MK barely kept himself from startling at the new voice behind him, turning around to see a very tired looking Red Son.

"Breakfast burned." MK said, catching Red Son up on the situation. Red Son hummed in contemplation, walking into the kitchen, picking up a piece of the unrecognizable charred food, and, ignoring the other's growing horror, he ate it.

"...Tastes fine to me." He said, going so far as to grab and nibble on another piece as he turned and left, presumably heading back to his room. The remaining three watched him go in shocked silence.

"....This house is a frickin' nightmare." Wukong deadpanned. Pigsy nodded in agreement.

"Aptly put. Now get off of the fridge."

"No."

MK decided to go back to bed.

It was commonly known, within the household, that somehow, Tang and Wukong continuously managed to get out of doing their fair share of the chores. No one was quite sure how they did it, as the two of them kept coming up with new methods every day.

Today's method was..... interesting, to say the least.

Somehow, someway, they had managed to remove their names from the Chore Roulette Wheel, without leaving any trace that their names had ever even been there. Which was, in fact, rather impressive, considering that the roulette wheel was literally a giant wooden roulette wheel, built by Sandy, and there were no empty spaces were their names used to be, they were just. Gone.

To be honest, MK would've never noticed if Mei hadn't pointed it out.

Now, there was a house-wide search for the two chore-shirkers.

"Found 'em yet?" MK yelled down the stairs into the basement. A few seconds passed, then a unanimous call of "No!" came. MK sighed. If the Spider-gang couldn't find Tang and Wukong down there, then they probably weren't there. (.....Probably. Wukong did have a lot of tricks up his sleeves, and MK didn't put it pass his mentor to use them for something like this.)

That checked off the majority of the house.... which only left-

An enraged scream (courtesy of Mei) from upstairs confirmed what MK had concluded.

They were on the roof.

MK rushed to the stairs, running up them-

Only to pause as he heard a yelp, and a flash of gold fell past the window, followed by a loud thud. MK leaned on the windowsill to look outside, just in time to see Tang fall past it. Wukong, a few branches and grass in his fur from his rough landing, summoned his cloud to catch Tang, before zooming away.

As MK would later find out, in the haste to escape Mei's wrath, Tang had actually pushed Wukong off the roof. Wukong, in return, had unceremoniously dropped Tang on the ground the first chance he got.

Both of their names were back on the roulette wheel by the next morning.

....They still managed to get out of doing their chores though.

"Oh, hey Macaque." MK mumbled, tiredly rubbing his eyes, and Macaque, mid-way through stealing a snack out of the fridge, froze like a deer in the headlights.

"Uh.....hey, bud." He said, slowly closing the fridge door, glancing at MK, who was obviously very tired, then looking at the clock on the wall.

2:43 AM. Okay, he could work with this.

"What are you doing up so late?" Macaque asked, leaning casually against the fridge in an attempt to hide his nervousness. If MK had been more awake, he would've noticed and called him out on it, but as it was....

"Just woke up.... wanted to get a snack." MK said, and Macaque quickly opened a nearby cupboard.

"Here, have this." He said, putting a cookie in MK's hands, before grabbing him by the shoulders, turning him around, and gently shoving him back towards his room. "Now go back to bed."

"G'night, Macaque." MK said, nibbling on his cookie.

"Goodnight, MK." Macaque sighed, waiting until he heard MK's bedroom door click closed again before melting back into the shadows.

The next morning, MK thought he had dreamt the whole thing. After all, Macaque had vehemently denied the invitation to live in the house with everyone else, surely if he had changed his mind and started to live with them, someone would've noticed.

....Right?

"Monkey King?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you always sleep on the roof?" Red Son asked, "I mean, you do have a room after all, why don't you use it?"

"I just like watching the stars." Wukong said, reclining on his cloud. Suddenly, Mei and MK also appeared beside Red Son, with their arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

"You told me that beds were uncomfortable." Mei said.

"And you told me that you liked the breeze." MK added. Wukong's tail bristled a little, but he still didn't look over at them.

"Well, I mean, all of those are true." Wukong said, "Figured I would just... switch my answers up from time to time, keep things entertaining you know?"

"That doesn't explain why you slept out there in the pouring rain." Mei said, "In fact, the only time we've seen you sleep inside is when we have blanket fort night."

"...The rain was nice?" Wukong said, sounding uncertain. The trio narrowed their eyes.

"Is there something wrong with your room?" Red Son asked, and Wukong flinched.

"No." He said, finally sitting up and looking at them. "Really, my room's perfectly fine, I don't know where you're getting the idea that something's wrong-"

"You're doing that nervous smile again." MK said, and Wukong slammed a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide what the trio had already seen.

There was a moment of silence, and in that moment, each member of the traffic light trio came to a shared conclusion.

No matter the cost, they would get into Wukong's room.

Almost as though they had actually planned it, the trio took off towards the staircase, ignoring Wukong's yells for them to stop. Hurriedly, Wukong summoned two clones, then rushed after the trio.

Red on got caught on the stairs, the clone grabbing hold of the edge of his coat and dragging him down. It wouldn't be able to hold him for long of course, his fire could quickly burn the clone away, but it would still manage to slow him down.

Mei was captured in the hallway, the clone pushing off the wall to tackle her, accidentally knocking her right into Yin and Jin's room, pining her to the ground as the twins yelped in shock.

...Which just left MK.

Having trained with the Monkey King, MK found himself easily dodging Wukong's attempts to catch him. Slightly out of breath, he skidded to a stop in front of Wukong's door, turned the knob, and opened it.

"I don't really see what the problem is, the room looks fine to me-" MK said, stepping into the room.

"Kid, wait-" Wukong started to say, but it was too late.

MK tripped, tumbling into the room, dispelling the illusion Wukong had carefully crafted and placed over it.

Wukong's room was a mess, to put things lightly. There was stuff everywhere- books, clothes, antiques, food, you named it, it was probably there. It was to the point where there was no place to sleep, the bed being covered in stuff. Which, well, that explained the whole 'sleeping on the roof' thing, but still.

Wukong nervously shifted from foot to foot in the doorway. Red Son and Mei, who had succeeded in freeing themselves, as well as Yin and Jin, who had gotten curious from all the commotion, stared over Wukong's shoulders, taking in the state of the room.

MK sat there for a moment, looking at the mess (and sure, MK's room was messy too, but this-), before slowly turning around to look at his mentor, a serious expression on his face.

"Wukong." MK said, and Wukong stiffened, his nervous smile growing wider at the sound of MK saying his name instead of his title.

"...Yeah?" Wukong said, chuckling nervously as MK's look darkened.

"...I'm getting Sandy."

"Wait, no no no-"

The rest of the day was spent cleaning up Wukong's room, sorting through the piles upon piles of stuff.

Wukong, in a bout of spite, still slept on the roof anyways.

Yin and Jin stared in shock at the scene in front of them.

Everyone in the house knew that Wukong and Tang adamantly avoided doing their share of the chores. (The roof-pushing incident was still fresh in everyone's minds, after all).

So that's why seeing Wukong doing the laundry was very out of place.

"...What are you two staring at?" Wukong asked, snapping the twins out of their shocked reverie.

"It's just....weird to see you doing the laundry, that's all." Yin said, and that-

Well, surprisingly enough, that made Wukong actually pause.

"It is?" He asked, slowly setting the laundry basket down on the ground, subtly nudging it under a nearby table so that it was now out of view.

"Well, I mean, with how you and Mr. Tang utilize every method possible to avoid doing the chores, we never thought we'd actually see you doing one." Jin said.

"...I see." Wukong said, quietly. "Well, in that case. You two saw nothing."

"Wha-"

Not giving them a chance to respond, Wukong flashed a peace sign, then vanished, leaving the twins to sputter in disbelief.

(Later, Macaque returned to the laundry room to pick up the clothes he'd left behind.)

Syntax paused as he stared at the sight before him.

"...What is this?" He ased, drawing the attention of the occupants in the living room.

"A braid train!" MK replied, and honestly, that's what it was. MK sat on the floor, braiding Bai He's hair, Bai He braiding Red Son's, who was braiding Mei's hair. Mei pulled one hand out of Spider Queen's hair to give Syntax a little wave before returning to braiding the queen's hair. Spider Queen gently weaved Huntsman's hair into a braid that looked above professional level. Huntsman was twisted at an odd angle in order to put some braids in Sandy's beard. And Sandy carefully created some tiny braids in Wukong's fur."

"I....see." Syntax said, holding up his phone and taking a quick picture before any of the braid train participants could notice.

"Do you wanna join?" MK asked, "You can either braid my hair or get yours braided by Monkey King. Your choice."

Syntax took a moment to think about it.

He ended up braiding MK's hair.

There was someone in the shower.

Now, usually, this wouldn't be such a mind-boggling thing, but-

All of the house's occupants stared at the bathroom door in trepidation.

"You sure Wukong didn't just accidentally leave the shower on again?" Princess Iron Fan asked, prompting some indignant sputtering from Wukong, who was sitting on Demon Bull King's shoulder. MK shook his head in the negative.

"No, I'm sure I heard someone moving in there." He said, crossing his arms.

"Why don't you or Monkey King just use your true sight and get this whole mystery over with?" Jin asked.

"Yeah, we've already been waiting for like, 20 minutes." Yin said.

"They're in the shower." MK said, "I'm not just gonna invade their privacy like that, regardless of who they are."

The shower turned off, and everyone turned to stare at the door again, in silence. There was some rustling around, and then the door opened.

Macaque. It was Macaque. Who, upon realizing that literally the entire household was standing in front of him, froze.

And then immediately tried to turn and run.

"Oh no you don't." Wukong said, jumping off of Demon Bull King's shoulder, and outright tackling the other monkey to the ground. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I live here?" Macaque said, sitting up and shoving Wukong off of him.

"You turned down the invitation to come and live with us though...." Wukong said, slowly standing back up. ".....How long have you been here?"

"Two weeks."

"Two weeks?!" Everyone went into various states of shock.

"How could we not have noticed you?" MK asked.

"You- you did notice me though." Macaque said, "Like, we had a whole conversation in the kitchen at around 3 AM."

"You think I remember what happens at 3 am?!" MK said, holding his head in his hands, and Red Son comfortingly patted him on the back.

"What happens at 3 AM stays at 3 AM." Red Son said, sounding like he was saying some ancient wisdom despite the actual sentence being utter nonsense. Yin and Jin snapped their fingers as a look of realization appeared on their faces.

"That's why we saw Wukong doing the laundry the other day." Yin said, "It was Macaque in disguise!"

"....Yeah, I figured you'd notice if I didn't do some chores, just to clean up after myself." Macaque sighed, and Pigsy turned to glare at Wukong and Tang.

"See? Even the ex-villain does more chores than you two." He said, and Wukong and Tang purposefully looked away, whistling innocently.

"Wait." Mei said, "If you've been here for two weeks, and we haven't seen you use any of the bedrooms... then where have you been sleeping?"

As it turned out, Macaque had been spending his nights in the storage closet, curled up in the darkest corner of the room with nothing other than a blanket and a small pillow. The others, of course, deemed this as unacceptable, and pretty much near shoved him into one of the leftover bed rooms.

...Which he didn't even end up using that night, as it ended up being a night where everyone ended up falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows strewn about everywhere.

The next morning, Macaque wasn't there when the others woke up, and there was a brief moment of panic over the monkey's whereabouts-

And then said monkey walked back into the room, using the shadows to help him carry some trays with breakfast on it.

He paused when he registered that everyone was staring at him.

"....What?" He asked, "I woke up first, that means I had breakfast duty, right?"

"I mean.....yeah." MK said, graciously accepting his plate of food. "But, to be honest. I kinda expected you to burn it like Monkey King did."

"Hey, I did that on purpose. For Red Son." Wukong said, "Cause, y'know. He likes charred food. Apparently."

"You did not do that on purpose and we all know it." Pigsy said, "You were just as unaware of Red Son's dietary habits as the rest of us."

"...I literally just woke up and I'm kinda feeling attacked." Red Son mumbled, sitting up. "Should I feel like I'm being attacked?"

"No, you're fine, we're just calling out Wukong again." Spider Queen whispered to him, and Red Son hummed before rolling back over, clearly intending on getting a few more minutes of rest despite the argument starting to occur in the room. Macaque, for his part, remained standing frozen, with MK standing beside him, nibbling at the food on his plate.

"....Should I be concerned about this?" Macaque asked, staring at the fight taking place. MK shrugged.

"Nah." He said, "This is just the same shit as always."

#Monkie Kid #'Sitcom' AU #my writing

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clockworklozenges · 3 years

Text

So, a good five or so years back, I played in one of the best worst DnD games I have ever been in. The DM had bought the Libris Mortis book, which, if you were unaware, was a 3.5 splatbook adding in a lot of undead stuff, including some monsters and undead player races and stuff. Wanting to try it out, me and my gaming group decided to play things from it, our then DM deciding to run a completely homebrewed session. This proved to be a...

Terrible Idea™

(for the uninitiated, never homebrew something you do not fully understand unless it's just cosmetic. If you want to make all elves worship the god of garlic bread, Ultimo-Metatron-Omega, go ahead, but unless you know how the game works, don't make mechanical changes). So we all picked stuff from the books-one player played a skeleton Sorcerer who in life was a tribal shaman, but an attempt at healing went wrong, turning him undead as his life energy was replaced with negative energy, explaining why most of his spells were necromancy and suchlike.

Another player played Krug, an antipaladin in very spiky full plate. He was a zombie made by a necromancer of a paladin who was fighting him, but his allies killed his would-be master before he could assert control, and not wanting to just off him, his allies just...yeeted his body into a portal and hoped it'd re-kill him. It did not kill him hard enough. It did, however, explain his stats which...oof. He had already got debuffs to some stats due to being a zombie, and rolled abysmally. Fortunately for the player, he played mostly to socialise, so didn't much care.

I played... Count Nox Feratu, the Campire. As in, a vampire with a very camp German accent, which I did not break for the whole time I was playing him. To the point where "ach, nein, I haf bin heet! Heal me, meine freunde!" was par for the course. My overly camp vamp was a wizard, but due to level adjustment was a bit of a shoddy one. For backstory, he'd been ousted from his clan for ineptitude, and had sworn revenge. I was going for a swordmage build but never got there. All his spells were utility or just necromancy spells.

Our last player played...sigh...Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of Nerull, God of murder and undeath. He was one of the clerics from the book's murder Domain, meaning that he got buffs to damage. He was a vicious arse both in character and out of it, and was so dripping with edge compared to the paladin with the same IQ as a horse after its trip to the glue factory, the shaman who thought killing fixed people and the Campire that if you gave him a pat on the back you'd have finely diced your hand into a red mist. Not going too outlandish with his backstory of wanting to dominate the world as his undead thralls, Damien F***ing Bloodmoon had only taken spells which either charmed live people, dealt negative energy damage or messed with ability drain and suchlike, which he used with aplomb on townsfolk on our way to our objective. He was also, importantly, playing an elf of some sort, I forget which kind. Meaning that of the party, only one was alive.

So, just as an aside, for those of you that haven't played 3.5e DnD or have only played 5e, in Libris Mortis, undeath was gone over in detail, and had a litany of pros and cons. For one thing, undead had only the HP they had-folks like Damien F***ing Bloodmoon could be 'dying', and had some time to be stabilised before meeting the reckoning of Papa John and dying proper. Undead did not, it was just how much you had and if you ran out, poof, you're dust, bones and fertiliser again. You were also harmed by positive energy, so healing spells hurt you, as did potions of healing. However, undead were kind of hardy - poison immunity, some had resistance to non-magical melee damage, stuff that drained your ability scores and levels didn't work on them, some crits wouldn't do extra damage, and the best part- negative energy healed undead. Meaning all the spells our party had which damaged others like the living Damien Bloodmoon were curative ones for us. Keep this in mind.

So, we began our quest, learning of a necromancer a nearby town was plagued by. After using our skills (to whit: Damien Bloodmoon charming and drawing the life force out of random villagers and the only potion seller in the town whilst we went shopping. Krug got a snazzy hat, which we put on top of his helmet, and we chatted to townsfolk as I looked alive enough to pass as human and the shaman had a fake beard and toupee that people were too awkward to point out was fake so went along with it) we learn that the necromancer has a base of operations in the cemetery. "Oh ja, zo original, dahlink. Ve vill need to educate zis guy on vhat is chic and vhat is just shabby!"

So we head there and the nightmare begins. Damien Leads the charge, using all of his knowledge to deduce that the shambling horde moving towards us were stronger-than-your-average-bear undead, and he was right. These were powerful armoured zombie mages of some sort, casting ability draining spells, negative energy ray spells and even having auras of negative energy that dealt damage on a failed Fortitude save. Even their punch and quarterstaves did negative energy damage as well as the usual bludgeoning or unarmed. However...only one of us was really in danger and the DM's face fell when the squishy casters walked up and began shanking their super-special homebrew zombie wizards, being healed by the damage of their attacks as we cut them down.

Like I said, one of the benefits of undeath is that negative energy actually heals you. So the strikes of the magic staves and punches that hit us did some basic damage. Which was then immediately healed by the negative energy their weapon strikes and spells were doing.

However, you'll recall that Damien Bloodmoon was an elf. And not dead. Being a Cleric of a death god doesn't mean that you have the abilities of an undead. That meant that even with the DM being merciful, by the end of the first fight he was covered in blood, mud and withered away to just above half his original strength and constitution. More were patrolling, so we had to run. But that posed a problem.

Remember Krug had heavy armour? And recall his awful stats? He in fact, hadn't got enough strength to wear the armour he'd been given for backstory. He didn't, according to the DM, have enough to remove his own armour. And we attempted to, but also failed our checks according to the DM. And Damien Bloodmoon refused to help, simply blaming Krug and his player. Krug's player thought it was hilarious, and Krug only had enough Intelligence and Wisdom to say his own name, so saw no problem. And Krug, Nox Feratu and Shaman realised that there really...wasn't a problem.

For us, at least.

We slogged through three combats dragging Krug and wading through the mud with him. His speed was so slow that for every step he took, we took about ten. The DM was confused and infuriated that his encounters weren't working, but refused to change them. So we had fun role-playing. Or at least three of us did.

Damien Bloodmoon refused to roleplay, and none of his ranged spells could affect the zombie mages. When he went into melee, he came out wounded as all hell. He went down twice, and it was only the healing supplies of the shaman that saved him.

All the while, he was... Let's say not best pleased. Damien Bloodmoon was getting increasingly wounded, exasperated and longing for the sweet embrace of death as reprieve from the humiliation. His player was getting increasingly redder and rage-filled as time passed. Each fight ended with our characters stronger than ever and his a bloody pulp on the floor, with poor in-character knowledge (and terrible rolls) preventing him from realising why.

Eventually, we reached the final boss, pausing only to paint Krug's armour in contact poison just in case, and to find a stick to help the now-partially-crippled Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of death and murder, walk after being beaten up by angry zombie wizards for hours. And it had, indeed, been hours. Among us, only Damien had a bonus to strength, and we had two swords, a mace and a staff between the four of us. Meaning it was re-death by a thousand cuts for the enemy and a slog and a half for us.

We reach the necromancer and, having taken so long due to dragging the oblivious Krug with us, his big ritual is complete- he raises a fist-sized black onyx egg aloft, crackles with arcane power and causes the bones around him to coalesce into one massive creature - an undead, giant-sized rust monster, radiating an Aura of pure negative energy. Krug opened his arms wide, eager for the metal-eating monster cockroach to free him from his poison-painted metal prison. It ignores him as he's still very far away. Me and the others have our weapons and armour devoured.

Our DM was very much a stickler for note-taking. So because Damien Bloodmoon hadn't written 'clothes' on his sheet, his armour being eaten by the monster left him naked and afraid.

It became clear that the DM had done another f***y-wucky. See, the Aura of negative energy healed me and the Sorcerer by more than its other attacks did. So whilst Damien Bloodmoon was naked, soaked in mud and bleeding to death almost crushed to a pulp in the fetal position, rocking backwards and forwards as his player seethed with hatred, the Shaman and the Campire set about beating the thing to death with our bear hands and a stick.

The session ended once we killed the necromancer, or rather when Krug walked up to him, closed his arms and just crushed the noodle-armed bad guy to death with the weight of his ridiculous armour and poisoned him with its paintwork.

We never revisited the game afterwards. We were told later on that the DM wanted us to use the non-undead races. But at no point had he said as much, even when we asked him about our characters and the restrictions on them. We also learned a valuable lesson. DM for the players who are there, not the ones who you have an idealised mental image of. Tailor your game, otherwise you'll get a sitcom featuring a camp nosferatu, a shaman with no healing, a paladin who could barely move and a Cleric of murder who was ironically the only one at risk of actually dying.

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kaen-ace-of-diamonds · 3 years

Text

Cinderquil

Word Count: 4900+ (oneshot)

[AO3]

Genre: Fluff/Friendship

Characters: Cinder Fall, Cinder’s Pokemon

Summary: Pokemon AU. Ever since they were young, Cinder's only Pokemon has been her starter, Ella the Houndoom. She is proud of her position as her Trainer's sole companion and sees no reason for anything to change, thank you very much. So when Cinder brings home a new addition to their team, Ella's world is turned abruptly upside down.

Warnings for implied/reference child abuse and animal abuse

Inspired by this art by @astoria00!

~0~

Ella, like her Trainer, had no concept of downplaying her own importance.

She considered herself the paragon of partner Pokemon. Ever since she was a little Houndour, tripping over her own paws and barely able to cough out a flame, she had always done her best to look after Cinder. The girl she had grown up with was whip-smart and strong, as hotblooded as any Fire-type, and Ella would follow her commands without hesitation.

That being said, she didn’t always understand what was going on in Cinder’s head. For instance, coming to this unfriendly and unfamiliar region on the orders of that shadowy organization. Sure, the safe house they’d been provided was comfortable, a small and cozy cabin in the woods, but, Ella wondered, at what cost? She had been alone for hours.

Ella watched the thick forest around her with all the alertness of a hunter, gnawing at the large Grumpig ear she had been given. It was not hard work, guarding the cabin while Cinder was out on her mission, and it was clear that Ella was better suited for the job than Talonflame. The Flying-type had been lent to Cinder by her new leader for easy transportation, and while the supercilious look in his eyes got Ella’s hackles up, she didn’t feel threatened by the new addition. Talonflame was, if not temporary, nothing more than a utility.

Ella was Cinder’s only Pokemon. As for Ella herself, she disdained the company of both humans and other Pokemon alike. None of them had ever done anything for her: all she needed was her Trainer.

It was growing dark, and she could smell impending rain in the air — not unusual, in this awful cold and wet region — and was glad when she caught Cinder’s scent alongside it, growing steadily closer. She did not move from her spot on the front porch, but her ears perked up and her gaze homed in on the speck of red in the distance. Small as it was, it stood out against the dark greens and cloudy greys that surrounded them.

Ella didn’t scramble up and run to her as she would have in the past — she had learned professionalism alongside Cinder as well — but her shoulders relaxed and her barbed tail flopped back and forth against the wood. Finally, her Trainer was home and things were the way they were supposed to—

Wait a blasted minute.

What was that?

“Hello, Ella,” Cinder greeted her as she stepped out of the trees, as if everything were normal. “Did you miss me?”

Ella jumped to her feet with a furious bark, the Grumpig ear clattering down the stairs. Her tail stood straight out and her head reflexively jerked up and down, showing off her horns to the tiny, dirty, squirming thing that Cinder was carrying into their house.

To the Cyndaquil’s credit, she got the picture immediately. She didn’t even try to flare up her back before emitting a loud squeak and attempting to leap out of Cinder’s arms, presumably to scurry back to whatever hole in the ground she had come from.

Unfortunately, instead of coming to her senses and letting it go, Cinder held Cyndaquil tighter, close and protective. After a few seconds, she curled up timidly against her chest.

“Shh, relax, it’s okay. Ella’s not going to hurt you.” She narrowed her eyes warningly at Ella as she walked up the stairs and into the cabin. “Ella is going to be a nice girl and hear me out.”

No, Ella damn well would not. Not without standing her ground and making her case. She followed Cinder inside growling and bristling.

Once the door was shut behind them, the one Pokeball at Cinder’s belt burst open, and Talonflame flapped across the living area to his perch next to the fireplace. His beady black eyes watched them with unusual interest, and Ella resented the sense that she was putting on a show for him.

What’s gotten into you?! she barked at her Trainer, who had begun trying to coax Cyndaquil out of her defensive ball. You said all you needed was me! Why would you do this without even asking me?

True, all Cinder could hear was “Houndoom Houndoom Houndoom Houndoom,” but after all this time, Ella knew she was getting the gist of it.

“I realize that this is sudden,” Cinder began, her tone deliberately calm and even. “But I couldn’t exactly leave her there and run back to check with you. And we can’t just toss her out now that I’ve brought her here.”

Ella snorted. Very convenient for both of them. And how soon can I expect to be replaced? Was I that shameful of a starter?

With her free hand, Cinder reached over to grab a towel from the kitchenette and started rubbing the dirt from Cyndaquil’s damp fur. She let out a muffled squeak at the sudden touch, but didn’t uncurl.

“I expected to run into some people while I was out, that wasn’t the problem. There’s plenty of towns and cave systems around these mountains to look through. I didn’t plan on actually battling anyone, but apparently somebody on the trails had something to prove. One of those rich boys — you know the type, of course.”

Yes, they had met more than enough of those in their time. One of Cinder’s new teammates even seemed like one all grown up, complete with an equally smug Toxitricity by his side. Ella didn’t relax at all — in fact, her shoulders tensed up more — nor did she soften her accusing glare, but she did cease growling.

“So he won’t take no for an answer, won’t even break eye contact, and I decide that if he insists, I might as well teach him a lesson. He had three other Pokemon, and they were high-level but sloppy. I’d bet money that he didn’t catch them himself, that they were gifts or trades that he had no idea how to actually deal with. Talonflame made short work of them, but then — hm?”

Cyndaquil had been starting to lift her nose tentatively out of her defensive ball, and only now that she wasn’t too frightened to think did she notice the running slow cooker and containers of Pokemon food on the counter. The realization made her pick her head up and squeak loudly, and the smile that broke out on Cinder’s face was of the sort that Ella hadn’t seen in years.

“Are you hungry? I know, you’ve had a long day...” She dug around in the box of PokePuffs — not strictly belonging to Ella, but who else’s would they be? — and pulled out a Basic Spice to offer it. “Here, you can have this, can’t you?”

Cyndaquil sniffed the treat, and gnawed at it a little, but didn’t move to take or actually eat it. Cinder sighed.

“Well, I had hoped so, but I guess not.”

She gently pushed the treat into Cyndaquil’s stubby arms until they gripped it, and then knelt to set the tiny Pokemon on the floor. Ella tilted her head as she scowled down at her: what was the matter with her, stumbling around like that? Had she hit her head somehow?

Cinder shot Ella a warning glance that, in Ella’s mind, was completely uncalled for. “Be nice.”

Ella huffed, and stalked deliberately closer. Cyndaquil paused in trying to figure out what the PokePuff she held was, and looked worriedly between the human and Houndoom glaring at each other. Once Cinder was satisfied that Ella would not, in fact, rip the smaller Pokemon’s head off like some kind of feral beast, she turned around and started going through the cabinets and minifridge.

“I did beat his whole team, as far as I’m concerned,” she went on with her story as she retrieved the big saucepan and a carton of milk. “All the ones who were fit for battle. But when I held out my hand for the money he owed me, he went purple in the face and insisted that we weren’t done. He pulled another Pokeball out of his pocket, and sent her out. And of course she had no idea what was going on, did you, dear?”

Cyndaquil blinked, puzzled, and nearly tripped over her own chubby legs. Ella’s anger was very quickly giving way to confusion of her own; she knew that the average starter Pokemon wasn’t wildly powerful, to match its equally inexperienced Trainer, but surely they started at at least level one?

“No, she didn’t. I don’t know what garbage breeder they got her from, but she was definitely not ready to be separated from her mother. Even Talonflame backed off.”

Something finally clicked in Ella’s head, and her eyes went wide. She lunged forward, claws clacking on the hardwood floor, to sniff vigorously at Cyndaquil, who nearly fell over backwards in surprise. Under the rainwater and dirt, the scent of juvenile pheromones was unmistakable.

From up on his perch, Talonflame chirruped, amused. It really took you this long to notice? Do you usually growl at baby humans, too?

Ella was too stunned to even bark back. True, she didn’t spend any time around other Pokemon, but she should still have known...

“Obviously this spoiled brat had no business keeping her in his care,” Cinder said, stirring vanilla and cinnamon into the simmering pan. “But fortunately, it was very simple to set up an exchange.”

Talonflame chirruped, amused. Your Trainer throws a mean Mach Punch, Ella.

Cinder smirked at the fresh memory. With her free hand, she reached into her hip pouch, pulled out the shards of a shattered Pokeball, and tossed them into the trash can. Ella heard muffled clinks, and caught a glimpse of a coin purse that definitely was not theirs. Or, well, it hadn’t been before.

“I think it’s about time we start expanding our team, anyway. We’re in service to a very powerful leader now. We should be meeting a higher standard.” She glanced at Ella while digging back in the cabinet for the Vespiquen honey, and amended, “An even higher standard. I know this was a shock to you, Ella, and I don’t expect you to babysit her. But I couldn’t imagine a better example for her than you.”

Well. Ella couldn’t argue with that. She considered Cyndaquil for a moment more, watched her twitch her nose curiously up at her, and then ducked her head down to take the smaller Pokemon’s scruff in her mouth. As expected, she was still young enough that she went limp in her teeth.

Cinder blinked, but didn’t move to stop her. “Ella? What are you doing?”

Ella didn’t respond; she was already carrying Cyndaquil over to the living area. She laid down on the rug, deposited Cyndaquil between her front legs, and set about licking her short, downy fur. She wasn’t sure how Typhlosion mothers usually groomed their young — she barely remembered how her own mother had done it — but this felt right.

Cinder smiled and returned her attention to the pan on the stove. Cyndaquil, for her part, didn’t seem upset, but she was certainly confused.

Who... She was cut off by Ella’s wide tongue sweeping over the top of her head, but tried again. Who are you?

My name is Ella, she informed her, making sure to get the back of her neck. Cinder’s hasty rub with the towel hadn’t done anywhere near enough to rid her of the residue on her fur, and it certainly hadn’t done anything for the scrapes on the skin underneath. I am your teammate now.

Oh. Cyndaquil squirmed around some more until she could look up at Cinder’s back. That lady’s nice. And warm.

Her name is Cinder. She is your Trainer, and you should do as she tells you.

My Trainer’s sleeping on the ground back there, Cyndaquil said with innocent bluntness. I don’t think he got up yet.

Talonflame let out a deliberate, throaty laugh, and Ella shot a warning glare over her shoulder before returning to her ministrations.

You can forget about him, she insisted to Cyndaquil. All you need now is us.

Perhaps it was only because Cyndaquil was too young to fully grasp the reality of her new situation, but she didn’t question it any further. Instead, she settled down between Ella’s front legs and continued to watch Cinder make her dinner, submitting to a thorough grooming as she did so.

Talonflame tilted his head back and forth as he stared down at them. You’ve changed your tune quickly, haven’t you, Ella?

Shut up, said Ella curtly, in between licks. You’re not staying.

We’ll see about that, Talonflame replied, too lazily to be threatening, as he tucked his head beneath his wing for a brief nap. Wake me when dinner’s ready, will you?

Ella made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. She couldn’t find the room to care about that right now. Not when the cabin was steadily filling with sweet and savory scents, when the room was growing warm in the way it only did when the evening chill was falling outside, when there was a sense of comfort settling into her bones that she hadn’t felt in quite a long time.

Not since...ah.

Ella looked up at Cinder, who gave her a knowing smile back. Of course she remembered too.

~0~

It’s only the adrenaline surging through her veins that’s keeping her moving. She just wants to run, run, run, as far and as fast as she can, because if she stops for an instant they’ll catch her and drag her back, but she can’t feel her paws anymore and it’s very quickly not her decision.

The driving rain is already making it hard to see what’s in front of her, but then her vision blurs out completely, and she’s dropped right into a puddle before she even realizes her legs have buckled from underneath her. She doesn’t have the strength even to struggle back to her feet. All she can do is shuffle on her stomach through the mud, inch by miserable inch, until the sore tips of her toes brush rock, leaving behind smears of blood that are quickly washed away.

Her eyes flick upward: less of a cave than a hole in the ground, but she’ll take it. It’s a painful squeeze through an opening that’s just barely bigger than her own body. When she finally manages it, she collapses, lying like a wet pile of fur on the rough stone. Even here’s not really dry — cold runoff drips steadily right into her ear — but she couldn’t move to a better spot even if she tried.

She closes her eyes, the sound of her own labored breathing filling her head. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever get up again, and right now, she doesn’t much care. All that matters is that she’s not moving, that no one can touch her here.

So it takes her a good minute to register the strange scent wafting into her nostrils, underneath the heavy smells of rain and earth: acrid enough to make her nose twitch and fur raise. With a colossal effort, she lifts her head an inch, and finally notices that she is not alone here.

Barely a few feet away, desperately trying to cram herself into the far corner of the cave, is a human not much bigger than her. A little girl, just as skinny and soaked as she is, her amber eyes huge with terror. She wonders what she’s so afraid of — wonders if there’s anything behind her, if she should be afraid too — before realizing.

Oh. This was your hiding place first.

The girl doesn’t seem to have been here long: she’s out of breath, eyes puffy and red, and none of the mud spattering her once-white shirt and pants has dried. She gapes at her for a long moment, before hesitantly scooting forward and reaching out towards her ears.

What ear she has left pricks straight up. She might have intruded on this human, sure, but that doesn’t mean she gets to touch her.

Her hackles raise, her lips pull back, and she snaps at the offending fingers the second she realizes where they’re going. She misses — the girl gasps and scrambles back again, holding her hand protectively to her chest — and her smooth, flat-topped teeth clack painfully together.

“I-I’m sorry!” the girl yelps. “It’s just...you’re hurt.”

She’s fine. So what if her ears and tail had been cut into this awful shape? So what if she’s been robbed of her fangs, and now her claws? She’s still a Pokemon and not some spoiled brat’s toy. Still strong, strong enough to defend herself against one pathetic human.

She growls, but it’s weak even to her own ears. She is strong, it’s either tell herself that or lose hope completely, but she’s running on fumes. If she can’t fight back...if she can’t make them stop touching her...

The girl is doing something puzzling now, and it almost makes her let down her guard. She’s pawing at her shirt as if looking for something, but it doesn’t seem to have any pockets or other affectations. Then after a moment, to her shock, she grabs the one part of it that isn’t filthy, tears a long strip away, then tears that in half with a soft snap.

“Here...” She edges closer, slowing but not quite stopping at her growls. “I — I get it if you don’t want me touching your face. But your paws are bleeding, and...”

She narrows her eyes and keeps her teeth bared in warning: with the combustion pouch in her throat snipped or punctured or even pulled out entirely, whatever they had done to it, a cigarette lighter could produce a bigger flame than she can right now. But she doesn’t have to act like it.

The girl bites back a whimper, the smell of fear still coming off her in waves. “I’m not trying to hurt you, I promise. I just want to help. Please?”

Growls keep bubbling up from her throat, but they’re half-hearted. Against every instinct, she slides her front paws forward. The wounds on her half-amputated toes sting when the scratchy fabric wraps around them, but it’s a small relief to have the bleeding finally staunched.

The girl smiles. “There. Better?”

This close, she can see in the girl’s sunken cheeks and ashen skin how starved she is, spot the jagged outline of a fresh scar around her neck. The faint smell of human blood, not quite covered up by the muck, reaches her nose. Oh. So they really are in the same boat.

She goes quiet, and tries to relax, and is rewarded with the fear-scent steadily receding.

“My name’s Cinder. Do you have a name?”

She heaves a deep sigh in response; she’s never been called anything but mongrel, dumb mutt, dirty animal, and she’s pretty sure those don’t count as names.

“No? I’ll think of one for you, then. Just give me a little bit, I’ve never named anyone befo—aah!”

Thunder shakes what felt like the whole world around them, and they both jump so badly they hit their heads on the painfully low walls. She lets out a whine despite herself, curling tightly in on herself to keep from shaking. Cinder doesn’t look much happier, but instead of recoiling...

“Here...” Cinder mimics her, getting down and snuggling up next to her back on the floor. “I know I’m not very warm, but I should be better than nothing.”

She makes a soft noise of assent. When Cinder slings an arm over her shoulders, hugging her body close and gently petting her flank, it doesn’t exactly make her feel fuzzy on the inside. But it stirs something deep in her chest that she doesn’t have a name for yet, and it’s a welcome distraction from the cold and wet.

“We can stay here until the storm stops. We could figure out where to go together,” Cinder suggests, in a hesitant murmur. “We could be friends.”

Friends. She’s never heard the word before, and isn’t sure what it means, but she wouldn’t mind finding out. She twists her head around and licks Cinder’s cheek, and the girl giggles like she’s never tried to before.

The rain drives down hard and punishing outside, washing away all traces of them. Freezing droplets fall on them from the roof. They’re hungry, dirty, and shivering, with no idea of what they’re supposed to do next. But tonight they’re huddled together, the world outside this cramped little cave does not exist, and for the first time in their lives, they aren’t alone.

~0~

“Dinnertime,” Cinder said, balancing four dishes as she came into the living area. Talonflame stirred and flapped down from his perch to join them as she served the meal: beef stew from the slow cooker for the three of them and warm spiced milk for Cyndaquil.

The baby Pokemon let out her loudest squeak yet and bounced out of Ella’s legs when the dish was set beside her, but stopped short of actually going for it, looking up at them hesitantly.

“Go on. It’s all for you, dear.”

Cinder, sitting cross-legged on the floor with them, smiled as she watched the tiny Pokemon scramble eagerly towards the milk.

“You like it? There’s plenty more where that came from. We’re going to raise you to be big and strong, and one day nobody will dare mistreat you. Right, Ella?”

Ella loyally thumped her tail on the hardwood floor: she knew better than anyone. She knew that she wasn’t the starter Pokemon that every child dreamed about, nor, she conceded, had Cinder begun as the cool and confident Trainer that any Pokemon would want. But still they had fought every day to survive together, to become strong enough that nobody could ever lay a hand on them again.

She had evolved under Cinder’s command, and with evolution the body parts that had been carved away from her when she was young were restored to her. Most importantly, it had given her her fire back, and she knew in her heart that she would never have been able to reach that point on her own.

It was just like Cinder used to say, in the dead of one of their countless nights huddled up together: It’s all right if nobody else loves us. All we need is each other.

That had held steadfastly true for them, from childhood to adulthood. Ella saw no reason why the same could not apply to Cyndaquil, if she herself were magnanimous enough to allow it.

As she gulped down tender chunks of beef, she watched the tiny Pokemon lapping up the milk so earnestly she seemed in danger of falling headfirst into the dish. It had taken Ella a long time to train herself out of scarfing her food down like that, so fast she didn’t even taste it, to be sure that nobody would snatch it away from her now.

Though Toxitricity and Drapion still acted as if they would sometimes, just to get a rise out of her. While she was still small, Cyndaquil would be free to take refuge behind her legs or in Cinder’s arms, but soon Ella would have to teach her how to stand up for herself, and to not roll over for them or anyone else. There were a lot of things the two of them — three, if Talonflame decided to make himself useful — would be responsible for teaching their newest member. She ought to start making a list.

Not that there was much room in her head for that right now. Cyndaquil polished off the milk before the rest of them were halfway finished with their meal, and after licking the dish clean, she looked up and glanced uncertainly around at the three of them.

Now that there was nothing to distract her, it was starting to sink in that she was all by herself, in a strange place surrounded by strange people, with no idea what was going to happen to her next. Ella knew that feeling: the sudden drop in her stomach, the cold spreading like frost over her skin. She remembered. She expected that Cinder did, too.

Her Trainer was watching Cyndaquil intently, and at the first tiny whimper that might have been the prelude to crying, she set her bowl aside and held out her arms.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Want to come here?”

With only slight reluctance, Cyndaquil allowed Cinder to scoop her into her lap. Smiling, she rubbed the tiny Pokemon’s belly with one hand and scratched the back of her neck, just above the incendiary spots, with the other. Cyndaquil let out a series of high-pitched cheeps and squirmed happily in her lap, clearly unused to such affection.

“There, you see?” Cinder cooed, as Cyndaquil twisted around so she could scratch under her chin. “Nothing to be afraid of. This is your home now, with me and your big sister Ella.”

Ella! Ella! Cyndaquil squeaked, delighted. She says we’re sisters!

Ella swallowed a chunk of potato and tilted her head at them. Sister. Another word she would soon be learning to embody.

~0~

The next morning, Ella found her need to pace militarily when impatient at war with her utter disgust of wetness and mud. They had planned a schedule for Cyndaquil’s first full day with them yesterday evening, and it would not do at all to start slacking so soon.

Last night, Cyndaquil had tried to sleep in the corner of the bedroom at first, clearly too used to being shunted out of the way. She had needed plenty of coaxing from Cinder and a commanding bark from Ella to feel safe climbing up onto the bed and letting herself be tucked in between them.

She had slept restlessly, kicking and yelping in her dreams, needing constant soothing to calm down. In the morning Ella had had to drag her exhausted body out from under her blanket, shaking the sleep out of her head. Even Cinder, who had always been a light sleeper anyway, had been rubbing her eyes as Cyndaquil followed her out of the bedroom, bouncing at her heels. Arceus only knew where the little Pokemon had gotten so much energy from.

Ella lifted a paw and shook excess mud from it, her lip curling. Cinder had said that they would only be a minute, it had now been several, and if they didn’t get out here in the next ten seconds she was going to march in there and drag her Trainer out with her teeth—

“Being patient, Ella?”

Ella turned and fixed Cinder with A Look as she watched her coming down the front steps of the cabin, determined not to return her easy smile just yet. She was supposed to have been introducing Cyndaquil to a new Pokeball, but as it happened...

“Yes, I know,” Cinder said, reaching up to steady Cyndaquil as she sprawled happily on her belly, atop her new Trainer’s head. “She does have a new Pokeball now, but I think she likes it better here with us. Right, dear?”

Cyndaquil chirped assent, grinning and swinging her stubby legs.

“You’ll need a proper name soon, too. But training comes first, so watch your sister carefully, now. Ella, if you would?”

Ella gave a firm nod and stepped back, facing the open space in front of the two of them, so Cyndaquil could get a good view of what she was about to demonstrate. The smaller Pokemon, while still idly playing with Cinder’s bangs, was staring transfixed at her. Ella doubted whether she could even muster up an Ember yet, let alone try Flamethrower. Well, then all the better a show for her.

She would never again take for granted how good it felt to flex the muscles in her throat and get her combustion pouch working. It was like taking a gulp of sweet smoke, sparklers lighting just under her skin, as the heat surged up from within her.

Maybe the need to show off to someone younger, which she had never had the chance to do before, gave her some extra fuel: the flames that burst from her mouth burned hotter and stronger than ever, brightening the overcast morning and sending steam hissing up from the puddles before her.

Cinder gave her an approving smirk and some soft applause, but Cyndaquil couldn’t contain herself.

Wow! She took a flying leap off of Cinder’s head and scurried to Ella’s side, mimicking her battle pose. My turn, my turn!

She opened her mouth, throat straining and tail sticking straight out, only to cough up the measliest crumb of flame that Ella had ever seen. It extinguished itself almost as soon as it had been ignited.

Oh, Cyndaquil said plaintively, tail drooping. I...

Ella gave her a nudge with her snout that she hoped was uplifting. Will try again, that’s what you’ll do. As long as it takes. Don’t look so downcast.

“Whatever Ella’s saying to you, she’s right, dear,” Cinder chimed in. “We’re going to become the strongest, but not overnight.”

You do have an advantage. I had to figure this all out on my own. Ella re-assumed her attack position. She would go slower this time, explain the physical aspects of combustion that were innate to all Fire-types, so the little one could better lean in to what felt most natural. You have me to look after you. And when you’re finally ready to be in a real battle, you’ll be far more prepared than the others. Understand?

Cyndaquil nodded very seriously, then mirrored her once more, sparks flying already from her arched back.

Good. Now, watch closely...

#self indulgent pokemon AU is self indulgent #cinder fall #RWBY #pokemon #houndoom #cyndaquil #kaen's fics

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