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#particular system
buildheight · 2 months
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[ ] He looks [ ] and he looks [ ] again. [ ] and the moon [ ] looks [ ] He looks at the moon [ ] and [ ] quiet. [ ] "And the plane still crashes."
blackout poetry of a fantastic fic called cockpit resource management by @theminecraftbee. i was really hoping for another conjunction but thats the fun of erasure isnt it! this section is so striking in the text that i couldnt help giving a poem a go
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dalandan012 · 3 months
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Play limbus company and get yourself an old hag for free
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sharkylass · 2 years
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6. Fears.
I WAS REALLY EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE- THE SHOW ISN’T GONNA GIVE US AN EXPLANATION? FUCK IT, I’LL MAKE IT MYSELF-
(More versions under cut!)
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delawaredetroit · 2 months
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She's honestly one of the few LOV characters who has consistently had a relatively coherent systemic critique of hero society while actually believing in a future. It's actually not surprising she follows Stain even if she doesn't exactly share his ideology.
Shigaraki and Dabi's systemic critiques are muddled by the involvement of All for One and Endeavor in their stories. In that Shigaraki was groomed to see only the worst in everything and prevented by All for One from experiencing anything that wasn't misery. And Dabi in both what created him and his current goals are tied up too much in Endeavor specific neuroses. There are systemic critiques in there, but you have to pull back a few layers of scheming and circumstances that wouldn't apply to even most disenfranchised people in their society.
Toga doesn't have that problem. She was a "normal girl" from a "normal family". She (and Twice) are the examples of the psychological toll of their society's suppression of all quirks outside of heroics.
Due to the nature of Toga's quirk, she connects to people by drinking blood. This didn't inherently have to include violence. People routinely get small injuries in their day to day lives. Blood banks exist. Even the narrative directly acknowledges this - baby Toga didn't attack other children, she "kissed their booboos".
But because they live in a society based in suppression, she was treated poorly every time her quirk - her individuality - affected her relationships with people. And the fact that her parents, her quirk counselor are faceless - they could have been anyone. The reactions she received by those around her are typical of their society.
And kid Toga did her best to put on that faceless mask too, but it didn't fit right. In a moment of weakness - one bad day you could say - she attacked her crush after seeing him bleed in a fight. And she likely felt connected to another person for the first time in years. But Saito died. And then she was a villain. And thus the connection was established. She could only feel connected to people through violence - through causing harm to the people she wants connection with.
In the end though, Toga wants acceptance and believes a future like that is possible. But her experience has told her that the only way to accomplish that is through violence. Stain also killed to establish a future he wanted. He had a significant fanbase despite having a "creepy" quirk that necessitates the ingestion of blood. This might be the first time Toga saw society interact with a person with a quirk like hers in a way other than outright disgust. It's not a surprise she was also inspired by Stain.
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spnintheyearofourlord · 9 months
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Thinking about Sam and how central autonomy and violation is to his character. How many times and ways he had his choice taken away throughout the series. All the things we don’t know about his time with Lucifer, but are also so heavily implied that we do.
Imagining he eventually gets out of The Life and becomes a victim’s advocate. He ultimately decides not to try and pursue law school at this stage in his life—it’s been so long and so much has changed—but finishes his bachelor’s and pursues a master’s in social work. He never expected to end up here: the boy with the demon blood, no longer living out some doomed and twisted fate, helping people. He’s passionate about representing those made most vulnerable and unsafe in their own skin, supporting others as they come out the other side survivors, lending the compassion he’s always struggled to have for himself. Every time he listens to someone else’s story, helps connect them to resources, advocates for their case, he heals a little bit too.
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rat-rosemary · 5 months
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I want to write a fic about Dream moving into a frat mid college for some reason and he has the surgery scars he has and every single time a frat bro sees him without a shirt on their reaction is "Dude, cool scars!! ... is it a trans thing?" "Uh... no, they're like, surgery scars" "Cool cool... you're still going with he/him right? Just to check" "yeah"
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thattheater-kid · 4 months
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A friendly reminder for literally everyone, including systems and including the rest of this system
In general, systems do not control what introjects show up.
I have been actively attacked by singlets, systems, and other parts within my own system for being a South Park fictive. The most hurtful things I’ve heard are from other parts within the system. I’ve been called a mistake, I’ve been told I wasn’t supposed to exist by members of my own system. The system has been judged by others for my existence. They don’t even watch South Park that much, they just watch it when our brother puts it on. Even if they did, that’s not a reason to attack me or them for my existence.
No one could control who I am. Certainly I couldn’t. I didn’t want this. Do you know how hurtful it is to be called a mistake and told you don’t deserve to live to your face? Actually, I’m sure many of you do. Many of you have been hurt like that, so maybe don’t do the same thing to introjects from problematic sources. Nobody wanted this. Nobody chose this. It’s not fair to judge and hate for it.
-Kenny
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sick-as-a-dog · 16 days
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littles/syskids when they are trying to cheer up others in the system:
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chiarrara · 4 months
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sorry not sorry, I love jjk but the power system doesn't make any sense. it's a lot of hand waving over vague intellectual concepts the author doesn't actually fully understand which makes it sound really smart, complex, and deep. But really it's ricocheting between an ode to classic shounen power systems and a straight up recreation of them with a new coat of paint.
And that's fine! It's cool to get inspiration from philosophy and mathematics and physics, it's fine to use that inspiration without having a deep theoretical understanding of the concept, and jjk is nothing if not an ode to and a new iteration of the essence of the shounen genre.
But it doesn't mean the author's explanations of that power system--in the text itself or in additional materials--make any more coherent sense than the quantum physics in marvel movies. Trying to make sense of this stuff is a futile effort because it's not fully developed to that scale, and I think that leaves a lot of people either filling in the gaps themselves and misremembering that as text, or deciding the author is actually way smarter than them and they would need a lot more information to understand it, which is not true, because it doesn't actually make sense.
Complex ideas can be explained at very accessible levels in very simplistic ways when they are deeply and fully understood. If someone actually knows more than you, they won't make you feel like you can't understand the things they know. If they do, it's because they don't understand it well enough to explain it.
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thecataclysmic6 · 1 year
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Don't. I repeat. Do not lock away your persecutors.
This is not a healthy practice and leads to way more issues down the road. They are human. They are hurting. Don't do it.
I'm going to speak from personal experience here. We used to lock away our two persecutors under the claim that it was for our safety.
It was only through therapy that we found out just how inhumane this was and how much we had hurt them. One of them posts on this blog and is an active part in our recovery process. One of them still refuses to communicate with us years later and justifiably so...
What we should have done was give them a space to express their feelings and provide them with coping mechanisms to try. This is what we're doing now. This is what we should have done in the first place.
Give your persecutors a safe space. Give them a home. They are proof of a hurting child who struggled to survive. They are hurting and angry and villainizing them hurts them more. Don't lock them away.
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erstwhilesparrow · 1 month
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hey does it ever make you kind of crazy that post-reunion, c!owen introduces himself to us as owen agarci? agarci as in the name of the demon he shot in the chest during his trial? we know that's not c!owen's real last name -- he tells us so right then and there -- but i think it matters that of the last names he could have chosen for his lie, he took this one. his last name might have been the only thing he still carried with him of his family, of his past before the attack, and he refuses to use it or admit to it.
because it is an introduction, y'know? his narration, after the reunion, is a way of remaking himself in our eyes -- he is not the person we thought he was, so he needs to introduce himself again. and here, the thing he claims as his originating point, as the moment from his past he wants to carry around with him in something so fundamental as his name, is the moment he first killed a demon. this is the most important piece of his past. this, he is telling us, is where he comes from.
i think a lot about how we never actually see owen's parents. i don't even think we get their names? we get their voices in flashbacks over shots of empty fields and unpopulated streets. there is a kind of blankness to owen's past, or to what owen will reveal to us of his past, that forces us to take on faith that he is telling the truth when he talks about his own history. there is no one who could say otherwise; all the people who might have known him before he was a soldier and then a general are almost certainly dead.
it grants owen a fascinating degree of control over his own history. of course he can remake himself in this way, of course he can tell any story he wants of himself in this way; there's no one left to dispute his claims. in a way, he is his own origin -- as he tells us the story of his life, he is also creating that story. he came out of those woods with nothing but a bow on his back, no history, no one still living who could call to him by name. whatever life he lived before that point doesn't matter -- the thing that fundamentally made him the person who walked into town and demanded to join the army wasn't the life he lived with his parents, it was the violence he'd been exposed to and the violence he'd discovered himself willing and able to engage in. or so his story goes.
do you think when he woke up at the bottom of that elevator, memories wiped, nothing left to him of his past, there was some strange sense that he had done this before? do you think he rose up toward the light of the clearing above, empty-handed and alive, his entire life before this point a history waiting for him to tell it, and wondered why it felt familiar?
or maybe it's that he's refusing us. because following his turn during reunion, there's almost a sense that he has tighter control of the camera now. he addresses his 'voices' nearly antagonistically, wishing we/they would go away, responding and talking to us/them in a way that feels harsher than how he's addressed chat in the past. he's frustrated with us/them: why are you still here, i thought i was done with you. he accuses us/them of only pretending to care, of lingering not so much out of concern or any desire to do something as out of some morbid curiosity. there's a degree of access to him that we seem to have lost. it's as if he's finally certain that there is an audience, and what he's willing to show us shifts.
there's something really lovely and horrifying about a lot of the more scripted sections of owen's pov after the reunion. how it shows us things only he knows (the knife in his hotbar for much of his dinner conversation with guts, the beat where he grabs his backpack and reaches for a weapon when it seems like ayngel is about to recognize him, the interaction with puddy in the second clearing when he visits with krow), but we are nevertheless shut out of his interiority as he starts talking less to others, starts favouring third-person camera shots and narration where he gets to step out of the moment and talk to us directly. you can even think about the 'scripted by owengejuicetv' segments after each kill as signalling this: he has such visible direct control of the story we get to know now. he is the one who gets to tell this story, who gets to move the pieces on the board. here's what happened, he says to us. this is how it went. this is what i do and who i am and here are the parts that mattered. do you ever think about how rasbi's ending wasn't streamed from her pov? do you ever think about how the only witnesses to rasbi's death were rasbi herself, and owen?
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phant0m-l0rd · 1 year
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late night kyo sketch~
(ballpoint pen, alcohol markers)
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mystigaron · 2 months
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flagging this as mature because it features artistic nudity (just in case!) but here's a painting i did for one of my college projects this year that i just finished today ... very proud of it since painting isn't a medium i use very often and i'm relatively inexperienced with it and i am hoping to learn more as i go on
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stars-and-branches · 11 months
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Mxtx's romances drive me so insane it's just. loving and being loved unconditionally. the world hating you but you still are Seen and Heard by your beloved despite it all
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lavenoon · 9 months
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Conjunction (~9.9K)
More menace4menace, based on @naffeclipse's Bloodstain Fool with the og detective au by sunnys-aesthetic!
Plays after the first doodle comic, and after Falling Into Orbit, but before Asterisms
“Got your target?” 
Sighs sound different without any breath involved, you’re learning. 
You’ve been following Eclipse for a small distance already, waiting for him to say something, to no avail. It’s not that you’re quiet about it, so you don’t think it’s a matter of not having spotted you yet - and his reaction to your question proves it. 
Eclipse turns.
You grin. 
Half lidded golden eyes glow even brighter with the sun starting to set behind the urban horizon. Not a true sunset yet, but darkness is starting to settle between the high rises. The lighting is gorgeous, and unfortunately, it’s rubbing off on Eclipse. 
And that, in turn, reminds you of your impulsive compliment just the other day. Is it worse that you still mean it?
At least you don’t have to think about it for too long, thanks to his sparkling personality.
“Why are you following me? Can’t you take a hint?” 
Ah. That’s why he ignored you for half a block. 
You try not to let it get to you. It’s not the easiest task, waving off the rejection from the only person you somewhat know and who knows about you in this time, but you’ve had a bit too much practice putting on an act anyhow. You shrug, grin just barely strained.
“We have a saying for hints, a wave with a fencepost.” 
The tired expression morphs into a scowl, one you’re a bit more familiar with. Now he’s confused - and that’s enough to soothe your wounded ego. Enough to make your grin genuine again, and then worse. 
Eclipse’s glower evolves in parallel. 
“Are you going to elaborate or not.” 
Well, you can be gracious. 
“You could throw the whole fence at me and I’d duck to look at a ladybug.” 
It’s likely that the only reason you notice his hand twitch is because it’s just barely below your eye level. Tall bastard. The movement draws your gaze, but when nothing else happens, you tilt your head back up. 
He’s no longer looking at you, eyes still narrowed as he stares off into the distance. His voice is quieter, too. 
“A fence is about the only thing you could dodge.” 
There’s a deja vu when he shifts and just walks away, except this time you do have other options. You still follow him. 
“I answered your question, so? Did you catch them? Why target, anyway?” 
As much as you want to keep an eye on his expression, unfortunately you’re too uncoordinated by nature and tripping on the uneven sidewalk is too much of a risk if you aren’t looking. Still, you spare him another prying glance he probably doesn’t see before focusing downwards. 
“Curiosity killed the cat.” 
“And satisfaction brought him back. So?” 
“Him?”
Eclipse actually slows, his optics already on you when you look up to check. Not hostile, for once, but still confused. You shrug with a lighthearted smile. 
“Or her. Either’s good. But I’d like my satisfaction, please.” 
Just to emphasize, you make a grabbing motion with your hand, palm up. And trip over a loose tile in the pavement. At least you don’t fall - but the inelegant floundering isn’t quite helpful in your endeavor of figuring out Eclipse’s job. 
He’s no longer looking at you when you regain your balance. 
“You’re awfully sure there will be satisfaction involved.” 
“Your mysterious deflections are only making it worse for you, you know?” 
Again, a sigh. Either the low rumble of static is just part of an animatronic’s sigh, or he’s starting to get grumbly again. Given his disposition, your bet is on the latter. Thin ice, then. 
Watch you stomp on it to find out just how thin. Maybe that’s why they call it ice breakers. 
You skip a step, keeping even with him, and grin. Eclipse sends you a burning glare, as if in warning. But all too quickly he averts his eyes again, and then you have to speed up to keep pace. He’s not getting rid of you that easily. 
And your stubbornness wins out after another few steps, and another fleeting glare. 
“I’m a bounty hunter.” 
You hum.
“Oh right, that’s a thing.” 
This time, it’s Eclipse’s feet stuttering - but you don’t look up to see how your reply insulted him this time. It’s certainly less regulated nowadays than what you’re used to, and somehow, you can imagine him in that kind of field perfectly. Grumpy loner with ominous favors who also hunts whomever the finger of the law is pointed at. 
Maybe that explains the suggestion of a gun, too. 
Silence stretches for just a bit too long, so you end up glancing back up at his face despite the risk of tripping. He’s facing away from you, so that tells you nothing. Are you imagining the tension in his shoulders, or is he waiting for something? 
Looking up comes with other nice surprises too - there’s a few clouds starting to smother the orange of the sunset. Oh, you hope it’ll rain tonight. Falling asleep might be a little easier that way. Your sleep schedule has suffered enough. 
You focus back on the path in front of you, preventing any other tripping accidents. 
Given that you haven’t been sent away or glared at again, you decide to say something else. It might not be anything particularly smart, but that’s his problem. 
“I’m assuming it’s not like the movies. Worn Wanted posters, ‘Dead or Alive’, that you can dramatically rip from pin boards or something.” 
Eclipse looks back down to glare at you, just as the street lamps buzz on. More golden light all around, even more so with his pupils shrunken to pinpricks. 
“What movies are you talking about?” 
Bastard has no right looking this pretty. 
“Westerns, mostly.” 
That actually stops him in his tracks. In an attempt to remain aloof you continue walking, except - you have no idea where you’re going. You halt just a few steps later, turning back with the best innocent smile you can muster. 
You’re kind of glad his eyes are such an easy tell for his emotions - they’re narrow, but golden, and his pinprick pupils have once again expanded. He just looks tired, maybe annoyed. 
“It’s a miracle you even survived the week.” 
The snort escapes you before you can stop it. A miracle, after he so pointedly got involved? 
“Well, only thanks to you. Food and a roof over my head are some basic requirements that helped a lot.” 
You wink, just to keep the air light. It doesn’t do anything to stop Eclipse from scowling. 
“Stop that.” 
A widened grin, and a deepened scowl. Somehow, this seems to be your pattern. You shrug. 
“Just saying.” 
With another rumble Eclipse starts walking again, brushing past you without concern. You jump a step to get back into the motion, and then match his pace. Who even needs a workout regime if you have a grumpy animatronic to keep up with?
“I see you still haven’t learned to keep your mouth shut.” 
Despite the cutting words, you don’t feel like the tone quite matches that sharpness. Not friendly, mind you, but much less hostile than you’ve heard from him before. Laughter bubbles up in your voice, and you don’t care to smother it. 
“Bold of you to assume I ever will.”
The long suffering sigh you get in reply only makes you laugh harder. Though only for a moment, before a question is directed at you for a change. 
"How are you still dressed like that?" 
He gestures towards you, eyes on you as he waits. Though he doesn’t slow down at all.
You blink, and look down on your outfit. It’s certainly a choice to walk around in something that won’t be worn for another century, but then again… Your choices here are rather limited. And as far as you’re concerned, you’ll gladly wear familiar outfits rather than worry about buying new ones with money you don’t have. 
Eclipse only narrows his eyes at your shrug. 
"Would you believe me if I told you the stuff just shows up in my closet every morning?" 
Silence sure isn’t the answer you expected. You glance back up, head tilted, waiting for his judgement. After a moment of consideration he looks away. The noise he makes isn’t hostile enough for a snarl, but too grumbly to be a sigh. It is a concession, though. 
"Your anomalous existence affecting your surroundings should faze me more, but sure, why not." 
The defeat in his tone startles a laugh out of you, and you skip the step it costs you. 
"Yeah, same. I went inside, didn't go home. Not even Narnia." 
Ah, hm. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. 
"Narnia?" 
Yeah, no, that is not a story you want to get into. You’re not even sure how similarly history will play out with animatronics around. Also not a topic you want to analyze further. So once again, you shrug.
"Wait a couple years, it'll make sense."
And if not, by then he’ll hopefully have forgotten about it. 
“I would hope you’re not just volunteering future information to other people.” 
This time the sharper tone is accompanied by a quick matching glare. Naturally, you wink. 
“Nah, don’t worry. You’re special.” 
The frustrated grumble is wordless, and you have to press your lips together to not laugh. But he does pick up pace again, and you hurry after him. 
Something wet hits you. 
You look up. 
The sky isn’t just night dark - it’s covered in heavy clouds, and just like that, the next fat raindrop hits your face. You blink. Another.
So you get your wish of a rainy night. Now if only you were in your bed, you’d be all set. Mild panic creeps up in your throat, and you run a few steps to catch up with Eclipse. 
“Uhh!”
Eclipse turns, frowning at your tone. But he does stop, which honestly? You didn’t really expect. So you take the plunge.
“Where are we?” 
“Where -”
His scowl deepens in record time as he looks around, and then his eyes are blazing even in the twilight granted by the nearby street lamp. Mostly the light illuminates the steady increase of rain hitting the ground.
“You followed me home. You followed me home?” 
Your first instinct is to smile again, though this time it’s a lot more wobbly than before. You didn’t think this through, at all. You didn’t even notice how far you were going, all because you were too focused on talking. 
Maybe you can find your way back, retrace your steps - but you’ve been following Eclipse for a while now, and even before that you weren’t exactly close to the boarding house. You’ve been wandering a lot these days, for lack of other activities, and now you’re looking at a good distance to walk. In the rain. At night. 
But maybe Eclipse knows a shortcut. It’s not like you have many options. 
“Uh. How far to the boarding house?” 
“Too far.” 
Quick way of shattering your hopes, then. You deflate.
In your periphery, Eclipse reaches out - but aborts the motion with a curl of his fingers. Just as you look he turns, instead waving over his shoulder. Yours are getting wetter by the second, and you see the matching darkness growing on his coat. 
“Follow me. You’re not dying without paying me back for that favor.” 
You’d hopefully just get drenched, but if that’s what he has to tell himself to help you’ll take it. Thinking about how much better he knows this city by night isn’t really helping your anxiety. You’ve been a duckling for this long, so there’s no reason to stop now. 
Somehow you just keep getting yourself into these objectively dangerous situations, huh?
For once, you stay silent as you follow Eclipse past the last block. There’s tension in the line of his shoulders and you’re pretty sure you’re about to owe him again. He doesn’t seem happy about it. You can’t blame him. This was avoidable, it shouldn’t have happened. Anxiety is churning your stomach.
Only when he takes a turn into a nearby apartment complex do you find the courage to speak up again. Your steps echo on the tiled floor, breaking the silence for you.
“You’re waterproof?” 
You can figure, given his lax reaction to the rain, but you’d feel better with the confirmation. Despite everything, animatronics are new to you, and you’re missing a lot of what would be considered common knowledge. 
Eclipse just glares, obviously not happy over having to state the obvious. 
“Do you think I’d be done in by a bit of rain?” 
Your shrug doesn’t feel half as cheeky as all the preceding ones. 
“No, but wanted to make sure.” 
Something in his expression shifts, so you duck your head. If you can’t see his annoyance, it can’t hurt you. 
Silence reigns. 
Eclipse turns on his heels, and continues down the hallway. You shuffle after him, chancing a glance back up at his back. 
Have his shoulders relaxed, or is that wishful thinking?
“Don’t you think I would have been more concerned about the rain if I wasn’t?” 
Some of the edge has left his voice, and unfortunately you immediately read into it. Your own shoulders drop with the relief as you follow him up the stairs. This is a worse workout than everything before. He’s so fast.
“I mean, yeah, but I prefer checking in with the expert.”
“Surprising enough that you’re admitting ignorance.” 
You can’t see his face, but his tone makes you picture an eye roll. Still annoyed, but the edge hasn’t returned. You crack a smile.
“I don’t know a lot of stuff. Would you like me to elaborate?” 
He steps away from the stairwell, and you notice just how high the ceilings are - but still only high enough to leave a few meager inches between his top most sunray and the stucco on the ceiling. 
Mostly, you’re just glad you only had to climb the stairs up one floor. He’s fast enough on even ground, where he doesn’t get to skip steps.
“Don’t.” 
With a grin you start listing things, eyes closed for posterity. 
“Physics, never had a good teacher. Social cues - no one tells you those rules, and I hate it. Taxes are nebulous too, even after I’ve started - ough.” 
You’re yanked back by your collar, and make an ungraceful sputtering sound. Shouldn’t have closed your eyes then - seems like you missed Eclipse stopping at his apartment door. But his hand lets go of your shirt as quickly as he’s grabbed you, and you’re left rubbing the spot where the fabric dug into your throat. 
Eclipse scowls, but there’s something new to it. His grin is wider than usual, just a bit. 
“When to shut up.” 
You test it, just a bit, and let your own smile grow. 
“I think that’s part of the social cues.”
His eyes narrow, but you don’t feel apprehensive. 
“The fences.” 
You nod sagely. 
“The fences.”
A huff of static, and he unlocks the door. A snort? You’re starting to get amusement without it being at your expense then, that’s progress. 
Stepping past the threshold makes your anxiety spike again though. With the room he got for you it was different - this is his space, and you’re only here because you didn’t pay enough attention. 
Well, also because Eclipse is nicer than he lets on. Or believes himself to be, maybe. You’re still convinced you wouldn’t have died walking back to the boarding house.
But it’s strange. Following him through the foyer, the coat and shoe racks are the only things indicating that anyone lives here. No decorations to the wall, no carpets on the bare floor, barely even any furniture in the hall. That’s a lot of wasted storage space.
The first thing actually indicating a personality for the place is in the living room. 
“A leather couch?”
There’s more furniture of course, dark wooden drawers and shelves, a desk covered in documents and a chair, and a high coffee table matching the couch. But somehow the obvious source of comfort is what stands out to you. 
“Easier to clean off.”
Comfort, huh?
Eclipse continues walking down the hallway stretching on beyond the room, but you halt with a frown. 
The dark leather on the large (Eclipse-sized) three seater looks well maintained even with the worn creases on one of the edge seats. Eclipse’s preferred spot, it seems. The furthest from the window, and with a good view of the entrance. A realization about as cheerful as his comment. 
You trace a deeper line on the armrest, bright where the leather broke.
“Ominous. Have they invented blacklight yet?" 
You hear rustling from an open door, and you don’t think he heard you. Warily you step away from the couch to follow. Probably best if he didn’t hear you, actually. 
Except he did, and his reply echoes from what you must now assume is the bathroom.
"Why?" 
The suspicion is evident, and you have no other option but to commit. Not that he sees the shrug, but it helps you remain lighthearted. He heard you all the way over there without issue, but still you raise your voice just slightly.
"I’m taking that as a yes. Even cleaned up, you'd still see a whole lot in blacklight. Urine, blood, platypuses."
The confusion echoes, too.
"Pla-” 
Eclipse ducks back out, stepping out of the bathroom with a scowl directed at you. 
“No. Don't do that here."
Shame, you almost got him with the platypuses. It makes not grinning very hard, and you fail much too quickly. His eyes only narrow further as he steps back into the living room, and then his hand is moving too fast for you to process. 
Fabric covers your head. You blink against the bright terry cloth, yellow from the light passing through it, then pull it away from your face. 
A towel - you aren’t even that wet. But what gets you more than the gesture is the sheer size of it. Nearly a blanket, really. 
“Something wrong?” 
The words are barely more than a growl, a storm just waiting to be unleashed. The question, not really a question - a dare. Seems like you look just a bit too taken aback. 
Honesty it is, then. Baffle him too much to be upset with you. You look back up to meet his glare head on, fingers still buried in the soft fabric, and blink. 
“I kind of expected red towels. White doesn’t match you.” 
Eclipse blinks, too, and for a breath his eyes are just wide and golden. Plan, success. But much too soon he averts his gaze, eyes narrowing as if on instinct. 
You want to see him relaxed more often. 
And where did that thought come from? Challenges usually aren’t your thing, and this guy is tougher than a rock with about as much emotional awareness.
Honestly, that might even be too generous an assessment. 
“Red can’t be bleached.” 
The response startles you out of your thoughts, and it takes you a moment to process. It clicks, just a bit belatedly - Eclipse has already brushed past you back into the hallway. 
“Oh.” 
You don’t leave the living room, but step closer to the threshold to the hall. Watch as he takes off the wet coat and hangs it up on the coat rack, nearly bunching up at the ground. 
Again you raise your voice.
“Thank you.” 
The glare hits harder from the dark hallway, but it doesn’t faze you. You’re getting desensitized.
“I told you to stop that.” 
You stick out your tongue, then cover your head again and towel your hair dry, just a bit. Plausible deniability in terms of disrespect, or something. Mostly hiding from retaliation, given that you’ll disappoint him yet again.
“I won’t stop saying thank you if you keep helping me, that’d be rude.” 
“Don’t test me, I’ll kick you out.” 
As expected, his tone is sharper than your knife collection. Though, to be fair, you got yours for the looks, and not for their functionality. 
“I don’t think you will.” 
You pull off the towel just a bit, holding on to it as you look up to where he’s scowling. But angry as he looks, he’s not making any move towards you, remaining more than an arm’s length away. One of his, too. 
It’s a gamble, daring him to go through with his threat - but if he wanted to get rid of you, he really wouldn’t need to threaten it. From the start he hasn’t tried particularly hard to make you someone else’s problem. Your police bluff couldn’t have been that convincing, unless he’s really worried about involving them, and just running for a block would have shaken you off easily. 
He’s not as uncaring as he wants you to think, and unfortunately for him, you won’t play along.
You blink, ending the staring contest, and his shoulders drop with a static huff.
“You’re a walking headache. Dry off, I’m not dealing with a sick you.” 
It’s hard not to smile, so you just hide it behind the towel and a ducked head. You’re still pretty sure you earn a glare for your quiet snort, even though you try to cover it up with a cough. 
Pulling down the towel you unfortunately see the next issue.
“Uhh? Eclipse?”
Where did he disappear to, anyway?
“What?” 
Your drawn out hum doesn’t seem to incite any confidence, because he stalks through an open door back into the hallway.
“What?” 
You grimace.
“So, uh, the bleach? You might need that. Usually the dye washes out without issue, but that’s with the cleaning stuff from a hundred years in the future, so…” 
The frown deepens as confusion starts to weigh on him, and he steps closer. You pull the towel away from your neck and hold it out. The red and purple dye spots are faint, more orange and pink respectively, but definitely visible, and you really should’ve thought about that before. It’s not like your hair was that wet either. 
Eclipse stares. 
You swallow. 
No reply. 
“I’m sorry -” 
Faster than a cobra his hand darts forward, and snatches the towel from your grasp. You fumble just a bit as he drags it away from you, holding on out of instinct before letting it pass through your hands. No rope burn for you today.
Without sparing you another glance, or even the chance to gauge his expression, he vanishes back into the bathroom. An insistent clank makes you jump, and then he reappears with a dark static brewing in his eyes like a storm. His pupils flicker ever so slightly, but you don’t get the time to really look. 
A new towel is flying your way, and you scramble to catch it out of the air before it hits the ground. 
You blink. 
“Don’t stain it.” 
When you look up, the door to what must be his bedroom slams shut. You think the doorframe vibrates, even. 
It makes no sense. The old towel was fine, and if he doesn’t want them stained, why give you a new one? You could go grab the other one, making sure this one won’t get dripped on, but after what felt like progress his reaction to the stains throws you off. Risking the dark eyes isn’t really on your agenda for this unorthodox sleepover. 
Wrapping the towel around your damp shoulders instead, you step backwards until you hit the leather of the couch. Kick off your shoes, and then curl up on the seat closer to the window. 
It’s going to be a long night. 
You don’t know how late it is when the door to Eclipse’s room opens quietly. Definitely late, long past your bedtime, but your mind is too restless to grant you any reprieve. 
Golden eyes find yours in the darkness, and the tall shape that is your reluctant host steps into the hallway. You turned off the lights earlier, feeling more comfortable in the darkness, so the only sources of light are his optics and the faint illumination from the moon and street lights reaching through the window. The light doesn’t reach him.
“You’re still up.” 
Huddled in your towel blanket, you shrug.
“Can’t sleep.” 
The rain outside has trickled away to nearly nothing, and you’ve spent the last few hours lost in thought as you watched the raindrops race down the glass of the window. 
Eclipse remains in the hallway, where the faint light from outside won’t reach. You still see his eyes narrow, bright as they are.
“I don’t have any bedding.” 
“It’s not that.” 
He shifts, but it’s too dark for that to tell you much. 
“Ah. I didn’t expect you to be that prudent. I wouldn’t trust me either.” 
You should have figured he’s being an idiot. The glare you send his way is probably the worst you’ve directed at him so far, and the glow of his optics disappears for a moment as he blinks. 
“I’m not you. I was trying to figure out what I did wrong with the towel, not waiting for you to come kill me while I sleep. What the hell am I supposed to do if you decide to do that, anyway?” 
There’s hardly anything you can do to stop him if he decides he’s had enough of you. Your only reassurance is his continued inaction despite all your pestering. Well, and the fact that you refuse to default to that kind of paranoia.
Still frowning he steps forward, just into the space where the moonlight dips into the hallway. Just that amount of light is enough to let you see the confusion evident on his face. 
“... The towel?” 
“You got angry.” 
You don’t like how quiet your voice is. But any louder and it would crack. 
So instead you just duck slightly, resting your chin on your knees. The perspective and your hair should hide most of your face. Maybe you pull the towel tighter around you, just a bit. It’s warm, offering just a bit of a shield. 
Eclipse takes half a step forward, though you hear it more than you see.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. My reaction had nothing to do with you.” 
That makes you look up. If he wasn’t mad at you for staining his towel, then why was he mad? 
“Then why?” 
Confusion furrows your brows as you right yourself. Eclipse dodges your gaze much too quickly. 
“I won’t answer that.” 
Given the reaction and now his tone, you’re starting to wonder if you even want to know. In any case you don’t feel like pushing him further on this, not tonight. You can let it go.
“Okay. But you’d tell me if I did something wrong?” 
That part is important - and actually earns you another static snort. This time the narrow eyes aren’t angry, more a squint. Amusement. Back on track. 
“Little star, have I hesitated to criticize you before?” 
The bluntness makes you laugh, just a bit. You quell it quickly, but the smile doesn’t leave. Relief floods through you, and you feel more at ease. 
This time when you rest your head on your knees you don’t look away from him. 
“Good point. Why are you still up? Don’t you have to, I don’t know, charge some time?” 
His shoulders rise, and that is an answer in and of itself. Right, he thought you’re “prudent” for not trusting him. Of course he’d manage to think of you as a threat. 
“Ah, right. I could come into your room and kill you. Somehow.” 
“Nothing personal. But I won’t trust you on principle.” 
Your sigh hopefully tells him just what you think about that. Still, you decide to let him off the hook. And besides, you’re already talking, neither of you planning to sleep, or otherwise rest, so maybe you can have a little fun. 
You extract a hand from your cozy cocoon to pat the couch. An invitation.
“Can’t blame you for that, I guess. Will you sit with me then? If neither of us is going to sleep.”
Eclipse frowns as he follows the motion with his eyes. Warily, he takes one step closer, into the dim lighting of the living room. The line of his shoulders relaxes just a bit, and then he closes the distance to the couch in resolute steps. 
He does sit down in his spot, and you can’t even take the space between you two personally. Not when he looks so out of place looking back at you. 
“And now?” 
You huff, smile crooked where it’s pressed against your knees. 
“I don’t know. It’s been a while since my last sleepover, and I don’t think you have a bottle to spin. We could play truth or dare.” 
For a moment, his pupils flick away from you. But just for a breath - and then he relaxes against the backrest, settling into it.
“You go first.” 
You perk up. 
“Wait, really?” 
One eye narrows, the other remains wider, and it gives the impression of a quirked eyebrow. At least, that’s how you choose to interpret it. The amusement in his tone speaks for it, too.
“A free pass to learn more about you and how you got here, and you don’t think I’d take you up on that?” 
Snorting actually hurts - you pull your head down on instinct, knocking your nose against your kneecaps. Enough of that, then. You readjust just a bit, leaning into the crook between armrest and backrest. It allows you to face him more easily too, and you don’t hide your grin. 
“I’ll pick truth, then.”
He doesn’t even hesitate.
“Why would you trust me? Follow me?” 
You don’t know which time he means - which honestly just makes his question all the more relevant. For now you’ll answer for both, can’t go wrong with that. 
“I didn’t really have a lot of options. And you haven’t made me regret it yet.” 
He frowns. 
“That’s reckless.” 
You shrug.
“Sure is. Truth or dare?”
Best to move the game along. You can see he still wants to argue, but there really isn’t more to it. He’s helped you whenever you needed it for as long as you’ve known him - sure, it hasn’t been many times, or for long, but a hundred percent is a hundred percent. Grumpy or not. 
There’s a moment of silence, and then, like pulling teeth, his choice. 
“... Dare.” 
Shoot, now you have to think. That’s the downside of these games, having to come up with questions and dares yourself. There’s not a whole lot you can ask him to do, given that this is his apartment and you don’t want to overstep. 
Unless… 
Your grin grows instinctively as the idea takes hold. Eclipse’s eyes narrow in suspicion, but you voice your dare before he gets to backtrack.
“Let me thank you, without being grumpy about it. Accept it.” 
Golden eyes blaze before narrowing back at you.
“Wha-” 
You squint, channeling your strongest little shit energy. 
“Backing out?” 
Even in the darkness you can see his expression twitch. It’s not what he expected, but pride forces him to let you go through with it. Pride, and the fact that he probably still has questions he wants to ask, and can’t end the game prematurely.
His tone does little to hide the strain, and you nearly laugh. 
“No. Go ahead.” 
Perfect. You straighten a little, as if that will help reflect that you mean it. Even with the dare, you don’t think he’ll actually believe you, but it’s the best you’ll get without being glared at. 
“Thank you, for letting me stay tonight. And for getting me a room. I would’ve been majorly screwed without you, and I appreciate you cashing in a more lucrative favor to get me settled.” 
The lemon face is back. You’re trying very, very hard not to laugh. 
“You usually say ‘You’re welcome’ to expressions of gratitude.” 
If his face looks like he’s bitten into a lemon, yours now looks like you’re trying to be unaffected by a sour candy. You’re pretty sure your eyes are tearing up from the strain of keeping the laughter down. 
“You’re welcome.” 
Words near dripping with disdain. You'll have to watch out for a puddle later, or you’ll slip.
You duck your head, hiding your face behind your knees again. Only this time you’re shaking with silent laughter. 
“You sound like I’m holding you at gunpoint.” 
Your voice warbles ever so slightly in amusement, and you’re not surprised when Eclipse cuts to the chase immediately.
“Truth or dare?” 
He has questions, and you’re not sure you want to invite retaliation. Easy choice.
“I’m scared of the dares you’d come up with. Truth.” 
Eclipse tilts his head, settling with a click. The suspicion isn’t new - in fact, it’s old enough to give you an inkling of what his question will be.
“What do you know about how you got here?” 
Bingo. Unfortunately, there’s no prize to win, and you just sigh. You’ll have to disappoint him. 
“Answer is absolutely nothing. One moment I’m back home, taking a little walk, I blink, I’m here and looking at a whole ass animatronic. I’ll give you a do over if you want.” 
There’s a yawn creeping up on you, but you don’t want the game to end. You stretch your arms over your legs with a hum, hoping the tension will cover up the tiredness, and then relax again. 
There’s a flicker to Eclipse’s expression that you can’t read, but then he sighs, too. 
“No, an answer is an answer, satisfying or not. Truth.” 
That’s barely better than dares, just on the other end of the spectrum. Dares are hard to come up with, whereas with truths… There are so many things you want to ask him, about this time and this world and about him and - 
You hum, trying to stall for time, and scrunch up your face deep in thought. Maybe you need to approach this practically. For now you’re living here, so perhaps it’s good to learn about some rules you simply know nothing about.
“What do I need to know about animatronics?” 
“That’s a broad question.” 
Fair point. But he doesn’t sound inherently against the question, so you decide to elaborate. Maybe that will help him answer.
“I’ve been fumbling for over a week now. I just want to avoid obvious mistakes, things I shouldn’t mention, things not to ask. Like if you’re waterproof.” 
For a moment he squints, amusement sparking in his eyes. But then he looks away, expression falling into something more thoughtful, and he hums. 
When he meets your eyes again, his expression is hard. No trace of amusement left.
“Don’t ask about assignments before the revolution, before we had rights. It’s been twenty years, but too many humans still believe it was better then. Do not imply we should submit to that again.” 
A revolution, huh? Of course things couldn’t be peaceful. It’s good to know about it, you figure, though you also can’t help but think that not knowing wouldn’t have been that much of an issue. It's not something you would have assumed blindly, and thus nothing you would have brought up. Maybe asking in and of itself was the faux pas you wanted to avoid.
Still, you want to go back to the lighthearted air you had going for you just before his answer, so you shrug.
“Well, that’s easy. ‘Don’t be a dick to people’, I can do that.” 
“‘People’?” 
That's a weird emphasis. Bad weird emphasis. 
You crack your eyes open again, with a bit more effort than it should take you. Then again, it’s late. Then again, you already abandoned your sleep schedule for tonight. 
Eclipse is frowning at you, and you have no idea why.
“Uh, duh.” 
“We’re not human. And you can just accept that?” 
You match his frown, if for different reasons. 
“Why are you arguing against your personhood after just telling me not to do that?” 
Silence and a deepening scowl are the only answer you get. You stare for a moment, but when it becomes clear he won’t elaborate, you sigh. Sounds like this runs deeper than you have the brain cells to spare tonight.
“I don’t know your history. I came here, and you helped me. That’s all I need to know you’re a good person.” 
“I’m really not.” 
There’s more gravel in his voice than in a good quarry. He’s still being difficult, and you’re a bit too tired to be gentle about your questioning.
You huff, barely dodging another sigh through spite alone.
“Do you want to be?” 
Squintier and squinter, and then he’s avoiding eye contact again. Of course. 
“It’s not your turn to ask.” 
You throw your head back with a groan. It’s frustrating, not getting a straight answer. But “an answer is an answer, satisfying or not”. You’ll take it, and just hope the rest of the game will be more fun.
“Ugh, fine. Truth.” 
Eclipse seems to be out for revenge now. His tone is still sharp, and you can’t say you’re a fan of his line of thinking.
“How are you so cheerful here? You lost all you know.” 
Stating the obvious there. Whether purposeful retaliation or not, you figure you can look past one unfortunate question too. 
You rest your head on your knee again, your cheek squishing almost uncomfortably. 
“Yeah, but I also escaped late stage capitalism trying to kill everyone’s future.”
There, that’ll do. Except a snappy reply won’t really bring back the fun of the game, and only makes both of you feel awkward. 
Maybe… maybe you do have a way to turn this conversation around. The smile comes automatically, small as it is.
“I do miss my sister though.” 
“You have a sister?” 
Surprise softens his tone. Seems like your little redirection worked even better than expected. You widen your grin then, thinking about how Eclipse would react to meeting her. 
“Yup. Menace. She’s younger, but taller. Honestly, if you can’t handle me, she’d wreck you. She has a knack for sniffing out insecurities, and pulls no punches.” 
You stretch, humming along. It does little to dampen your amusement, and you squint at Eclipse. His eyes are still narrow, but much more relaxed than before. Amused, maybe? He relaxes against the backrest again - you didn’t even notice him straightening. 
“... I see she learned from the best.” 
Your laughter is more a bark than anything else, and you slap your hand over your mouth quickly. Who knows how thin those walls are, and how many sane people are actually trying to get some sleep right now. 
With the volume control back in place you do allow yourself a chuckle though.
“Student surpassing the master, if anything. Your turn.”
His eyes wander, moving away from you, and then he’s staring out of the window. You glance back, too. The rain is starting up again, a gentle background noise. 
“Truth. Don’t make me regret it.” 
You untwist your spine to look back at Eclipse, finding yourself late to the party. His glare doesn’t feel hostile, but it does remind you that there was something else you’ve been eager to ask. And while you’re already on the topic… 
Time to figure out whom Eclipse doesn’t hate. You spare him a smile, aiming for a reassuring look, but the way his shoulders slump in resignation you don’t think you succeed. 
“No fun in you ending the game early. Who's 'not everyone'?” 
The quotation marks are more a suggestion from underneath the towel, but you don't care. You trust Eclipse understands - and he does, because he looks down. Almost melancholic. You don't know if you like it.
“... I have two brothers.” 
A blink. A small part of you is intrigued by the technicalities - family by choice, but how so? Without blood in the way, when really all you have is choice, how does a family find together? 
But even though it’s not about any revolution as far as you’re aware, this just screams insensitive question. So instead, you let excitement take over. 
“You have brothers?” 
As your grin grows, his frown deepens. 
“Why is that so sur- why are you looking at me like this.” 
The couch isn’t the bounciest, but soft enough to let you swing forward. You land on your hands, splayed on the leather of the unoccupied middle seat. Eclipse actually leans back, surprised by your sudden approach, or maybe put off by the mischief promised by your smile. 
“Younger or older? Shorter or taller?” 
At least he relaxes again, though not without his expression twisting into annoyance.
“... Your priorities are off, little star. And it’s not your turn.” 
“Consider it a follow up. I need to know for science!” 
You bounce once, insistently, and nearly laugh when you see it reach Eclipse. Scary scary bounty hunter, moved by your shenanigans. 
“... Science.” 
He says it just as the couch settles again. Too much fun. You bounce again. 
“Younger or -” 
“Little brothers.” 
“Ahw man.” 
You’ll keep the bouncing tucked away as an effective method of getting him to talk. Whether or not it’s just to keep you from talking is a secondary concern. For now, you groan in mock frustration, and push yourself back again. Your back hits the armrest, and you tuck the towel close again. 
You huff, and Eclipse tilts his head slightly as he squints at you.
“Why are you disappointed?” 
As you explain you wiggle a bit, shifting your legs into a position that doesn’t hurt your stiff knee. 
“I have this theory of younger siblings outgrowing their older siblings. Though I guess with you in the mix I’d seriously be concerned for your brothers’ heads.” 
For a second, you imagine it. Two more animatronics, even taller than Eclipse. Given that you know nothing about them so far, your imagination supplies you with two more Eclipses, somehow looking even grumpier as they flank the already grumpy Eclipse of your mind. 
The real Eclipse isn’t any more cheerful in his reaction.
“... Do I have to tell you that animatronics don’t grow?” 
Animatronics are not early two thousands robots, you forgot. 
“... I might have been thinking of a movie again.” 
At his groan you press your lips together tightly to avoid laughing. You’re pretty sure if he had a defined nose bridge he’d be pinching it. 
“You’re incorrigible. Truth or Dare?” 
You know what, you’re feeling daring. 
“Hit me with a dare.” 
Eclipse is much quicker than you in choosing dares, and you don’t like this stormy expression. 
“Show me your shoulder.” 
Your brows furrow on instinct. Your shoulder? Which one? Why? 
“Huh?” 
There’s no change to his expression, but he does elaborate. 
“The one I hurt.” 
Now you blink. That was over a week ago, and you haven’t even paid attention to the bruises. They’re gone, probably. You think. Moving around hasn’t hurt after the initial soreness wore off, and you don’t like the thought that he’s that hung up over an accident. 
“It was barely anything, really. The bruises all faded.” 
Still he won’t let up. 
“Show me.” 
No way out then. Though no one said you have to be happy about it. You peel yourself out of the towel blanket, and then push away the fabric from your shoulder. 
In the dark, you can’t see shit. Maybe the bruises are gone, or maybe they’re just too faint to see. Without thinking you raise your finger and test instead, poking around where you remember Eclipse’s fingers digging in. You don’t get far before a larger hand wraps around yours, immediately pulling you away from the exposed skin. 
You blink at Eclipse. His eyes are wide, flickering to something darker in the corners, and his hand twitches around yours. He snaps to the movement, as if unaware of his own actions, and then rips his hand away again. 
“Don’t do that.” 
He sounds like he’s hanging on by a thread, and you don’t think you want to know what happens when it snaps.
His sudden departure after learning he bruised you back at the boarding house. The strain in his voice then, and now. And, for a second, you think about the towel again. You don’t know how it relates to the bruises, but his eyes looked like this earlier, too. 
The dark static calms somewhat, though he glances back at your shoulder for a moment. There’s no better word for it - he slumps in his seat. 
“I’ve seen enough.” 
You spare him one more wary glance, then sigh. 
“I didn’t see anything, and the touch test was negative too. You can stop feeling guilty.” 
No reply. You get started on restoring your layers of comfort. As you pull up your sleeve your eyes fall on your hand again, and you think about how big Eclipse’s is in comparison. You knew, he even grabbed your head before, but just like then you can’t let it go.
On the one hand, you would have liked some more time to actually process what his hand feels like. On the other hand, you’re mad at yourself for thinking like that. 
Eclipse seems eager to move things along. His eyes may have brightened, but his voice still hasn’t. 
“Dare.” 
You hum. If you don’t know how to reassure him your best course of action is to ignore the weirdness entirely. Maybe one day you’ll figure out his deal with bruises. Maybe not. For now, not your circus and not your giant monkey. 
“Ah, hm. Give me a moment, I need to think.” 
There’s a brief pause, but then, slowly, almost hesitantly, Eclipse huffs. 
“If I wanted to, I’d take that as the dare.” 
So he’s fine with trying to keep things lighthearted. He doesn’t want to linger on whatever that was, either, and it strengthens your resolve. Said resolve may involve a lot of silliness, but he’ll have to deal. 
“Shush, or it’s going to be something stupid.” 
Just for posterity you scrunch up your face in thought, then tap your toweled finger against your chin. 
Never looking away from your antics, Eclipse relaxes further. He leans back against the couch, even going so far as to rest his arm on the backrest. For a second, you believe him. Except then you notice the way his fingers are digging into the leather, and his careful projection shatters. 
“Your last dare was stupid.” 
You do have to admit he’s trying though. Unfortunately for him, you just had an idea, and it’s entirely self-serving. Well, maybe it’ll distract him, too.
“I don’t want to hear that from you. Show me your hand.” 
A blink. 
“My hand?” 
“Yeah, like this.” 
You grin as you raise one hand from your cocoon, splaying the fingers in the air. Eclipse looks on, tilting his head as if he’ll understand you better from a different perspective. From the way his frown twitches you don’t think it’s helping. But he does mimic the motion, glaring first at you and then at his hand. Slowly, hesitantly, he holds out his hand in the space between you two. 
No time to lose. You scoot closer, and press your palm against his. He jerks back, but you only stretch further, following the motion. 
“Stay. You’re not grabbing, it’s fine.” 
He stills. 
A soft laugh escapes you, now that you have the time to look. His hands are proportional to his body, which is to say they’re ungodly huge. 
Not that you mind. 
“Oh, big. I mean, I knew, I saw, but the side by side comparison sure is something.” 
Eclipse tilts his hand, and you move with him. There’s a twitch that you ignore.
“You’re just tiny.” 
Again you scoot closer, and extract your other hand too. Again he starts, but then you’re already pulling his hand closer. He lets you. 
Absentmindedly, you prattle on.
“Look - okay, I can’t argue, I’m short even by human standards - wait! I think I’m actually pretty average in this day and age!” 
One hand you keep on his, just so he doesn’t get any ideas about the dare being over. With the other you trace the lines on his palm where the casing is broken up to allow for movement. You move towards his thumb, the indent of the lower joint and the upwards, brushing past the rougher shell of his fingertip. Worn down from all the grabbing he does, for who knows how long. 
You’re so lost in thought, you nearly miss his quiet retort.
“That doesn’t matter.” 
It takes you an embarrassing amount of time to remember just what you were talking about, but then you huff. 
“Because you’re big.” 
The moment is over, and Eclipse’s patience runs out. He pulls his hand back and leans away from you, out of reach. 
“Shut up.” 
Despite his glare he still doesn’t sound hostile. You stick your tongue out at him, then shuffle back against your cozy nook. 
“No, I’m choosing truth.”
The question comes much too quickly after another glance at his hand. 
“Why aren’t you scared?” 
You freeze. 
The anxiety you’ve managed to keep down rears its ugly head again, churning your stomach, and you pull the towel tighter around you. Duck your head, even if you can’t escape his gaze. 
Sometimes, silence is answer enough. He understands.
“You are.” 
Try as you might, you don’t think he buys the nonchalance of your shrug. Still, you have no other option but to continue the act. 
“Pretty much always, yup. You get used to doing things despite it.”
There’s a pause, the silence weighing heavy as you wait. Turns out you’re not off the hook yet. 
“You had a follow up question earlier.” 
Part of you wants to sigh. So you do, even as it turns into a yawn halfway through. Tiredness is starting to win out over the anxiety, so you look back up.
“Shoot.” 
There’s an expectant hum in the air. Not like the intentional ones, more like the soft sound from old TVs. Well, old for your time, not this. Eclipse weighing his words, perhaps. A click, and he speaks.
“How scared are you of me?” 
Ah. That probably shouldn’t surprise you as much as it does - from his perspective a valid concern, and of course something that would occupy his mind. After his very first question tonight, it just makes sense.
But he doesn’t understand what you’re scared of.
“Not as much as I probably should be. Not as much as you think I should be, anyway. Mostly just on principle - you’re bigger, stronger, and one of few people who even knows I’m here.” 
No one who would miss you, or bother looking for you. You were lucky to meet someone who isn’t interested in making you disappear, not even to make his own life easier. 
Someone who knows societal rejection first hand, too. 
Anxiety quells, and you breathe easier. You relax against the backrest of the couch, accepting that you’ll have to peel yourself off later.
“I’d probably be more scared if you were human, actually.” 
The tension you expelled is the tension Eclipse soaks up, it seems. His shoulders harden into a straight line, and his eyes narrow.
“That makes no sense.” 
Earlier you thought you’re getting desensitized against his glares. Right now you’re just way too drowsy to care. 
“Does it? I’m not really a human humans in power like. I’ve got things ‘wrong’ with me that don’t even have names yet.” 
You take in a breath, barely concealing yet another yawn. The quotation marks you mimic with your fingers are about as energetic as your tone, so you can’t be sure he even notices. 
For a moment, Eclipse just stares. But then he too sighs, and his shoulders drop again.
“I don’t doubt that. I’ll concede the point, I have no reason to antagonize you for who you are.” 
Even so, this isn’t the tone you want to end this conversation on. You smile, tired as you are. At least he can interpret your squint as amused, too. 
“Just for how much I’m annoying you.” 
And you got him. 
“So you admit you’re doing it on purpose.” 
There’s no fire behind his words, and you chuckle softly.
“Never said that. Plausible deniability is my friend.” 
His glare actually makes you laugh. It’s overly dramatic, and you’ve seen him be scary - this is so far from it. Maybe if you hadn’t been playing a silly little game for the better part of an hour you would be more inclined to be properly impressed, but now? Nope, no can do. 
You sink a little lower on the couch, and your cheek squeaks slightly against the leather. Ough.
“One last round for you? I have one more question.”
Your enunciation is slowly but surely saying goodbye. Lack of sleep is catching up on you. 
But for now, Eclipse indulges you.
"Truth."
"Why did you help me?" 
If he can wonder just why you aren’t appropriately terrified, you can wonder just why he cares. Coincidence is the only thing tying you together, and that doesn’t actually seem like a big enough incentive for him.
He sighs again, turning a bit where he sits. Drapes his arm over the backrest again - no more need for distance then. Or maybe it’s just more comfortable. He’s not even looking at you, rather past you, out of the window. The rain is still pittering away. 
"My reputation at the station is bad enough as is. Didn't want you running into either of my brothers telling them how I abandoned you."
What crumbs of energy you have left let you perk up at that implication.
“Your brothers are cops?” 
“Yes. Don’t call them that to their faces.” 
You snort. If you ever meet them you’ll have to remember, but for now you can’t help but abuse that newfound crumb of power.
“So that's how to get you to -” 
The hand you so thoroughly inspected before now covers your entire face, and you laugh against it. There’s not much to see - the bit of light passing by his palm is barely enough to make out his fingers. 
Though you didn’t get to sniff it before. If you were any more awake you might refrain, but right now you’re tired and his hand is right there. Given that you need to breathe, not smelling is harder than just giving into the impulse. Heavy and metallic, but mixed with something sweeter - some of it the leather, almost earthy, and some of it you don’t recognize. 
At least he doesn’t seem to notice what you’re doing.
“Shut up. Don't even try.” 
There’s something else you might try. Your impulse control is so dangerously low.
He’s not holding on tightly right now, barely even holding rather than just covering, but you’re not sure how well-advised it would be to translate your impulses into actions. 
… Did he even wash his hands earlier? 
Maybe you can distract yourself.
“Can you imagine though? ‘Hi everyone, I’m from the future, and also I met this grumpy animatronic who wouldn’t help me out. Name’s Eclipse, anyone know him?’. Makes me almost sad it was a bluff.”
“You were bluffing?” 
Can’t make bad decisions if the temptation is out of reach. Eclipse pulls his hand away, just so you can see his wide eyed glare in all its glory. 
You manage a satisfied grin despite your eyelids weighing all too heavy on your eyes. 
“Oh, thanks, my next idea was to lick it and I don’t think either of us want that.” 
For a moment he stares at his hand. You’re glad you’re looking, because you notice the near imperceptible shake of his head before he drops it again. Your laugh is barely more than a tired huff. 
And yet, despite all that interesting bonus information, he hasn’t actually answered you yet.
"That's not really it though. That bluff came way later. Why not just dip when I started screaming?" 
Again that half squint, leaving one optic wider. Sardonic, maybe. 
"A human in hysterics and the bounty hunter with a violent reputation. What do you think people would have assumed?"
That sobers you up, too. 
"Oh. I'm sorry." 
"Don't be. It's out of your control." 
He’s no longer looking at you. His back is against the couch, and he looks off into the room. Not at anything specific, you don’t think. Just staring off into space. Maybe pondering some what ifs, too. 
What if you hadn’t appeared in front of him. What if right now, he could be charging in peace, being owed by someone who can actually pay up, and who won’t antagonize him at every turn. 
You shrink in on yourself.
"Still, I've been causing trouble for you from the start."
Silence settles between you. It’s heavy, but your eyelids are heavier, and sleep might just win even against the fresh wave of guilt. 
The moment stretches, and then golden lights find you again in the darkness. 
"It's not all bad." 
For someone who doesn’t believe in friendship he’s doing a shit job of keeping you at a distance. How can you not read into that? 
"Yeah?" 
Amusement sparks, even as the lights dim as he squints.
"I've learned many interesting things already. Like platypuses being fluorescent under a Wood's lamp." 
A squeak, or a huff - you don’t know what your laugh resembles more. Eclipse is still squinting.
You stretch again, but there is no stopping this yawn. If you’re already standing by your sleepiness, you’ll make yourself comfortable too. First you unstick your cheek from the leather, then let yourself slide down. The couch is big enough for you to curl up in the corner and rest your head on the armrest, the towel between the leather and your skin. Avoid the bad stickiness. 
Eclipse watches you silently, and you lazily blink his way.
“Don’t scratch the couch.” 
“Hm?” 
“Nothing.” 
“Hrm.” 
Whatever he means, you’re not in the mood to ask. Words are escaping you at record speed. Instead you close your eyes, shuffling closer into the corner.
“That can’t be comfortable.” 
Just because he can’t try. You’d shoot him a squinty glare if you had any inclination of opening your eyes right now. 
“‘m small, ’s perfect.” 
It’s comfortable, despite it being leather. The towel is a good barrier against the stickiness, and a warm little cocoon. Not as heavy as you’d like, maybe, but you don’t think weighted blankets have been invented yet. 
At least you have the rain as background noise. 
“The boarding house isn’t too far away from here, if you’re walking in daylight. I’ll map it out for you when you’re awake again.” 
Eclipse’s voice startles you out of your daze, and you jolt. Still, your eyes remain closed, even as you huff. 
“Not asl’p.” 
There’s a low rumble of a laugh, and you smile against your cozy nest. He should laugh more often. Maybe you can tell him a few good jokes, see if he likes any. Not now though. Enunciation is too hard right now, whether you’re awake or not. You totally are.
“Keep telling yourself that.” 
You don’t have the awareness to argue. 
Tomorrow. You’ll tell him tomorrow.
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stuckinapril · 1 month
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Its crazy that the US healthcare system still continues in its current form
No it’s SO BROKEN… I have been behind the scenes several times and it’s like wow. The people running these places really do have the passion and enthusiasm of someone who’s been working an office job for 60 years. This genuinely keeps me up at night bc I’m scared that as I grow up / get closer to becoming a neurosurgeon, I’ll lose more and more of my humanity and just become another hospital drone who sees lives as a chore more than like??? Literally humans in need of immediate help???? I def wish things were different but I absolutely intend to be loud where healthcare advocacy is concerned bc I would not stand being complicit in such a dysfunctional system
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