01-23-24
Wordcount: 841
Cold air wrapped its way around Phil's shoulders but the warmth of the hearth fire pushed it back as he entered the tavern. Snow spun in his wake and melted quickly on the sawdust floor. He strolled up to the bar and waved at the keep, who gave a wave of his own from the other end where he was speaking quietly with another customer.
The Pit wasn't a nice tavern, but it had the charms of being secluded and clean and easy to reach from the western gate without drawing attention to himself. The keep, an old friend, was excellent at his job and had a pint in front of Phil in moments with no more acknowledgement than a quick nod and smile. The tavern was busy enough this late into the evening that there wasn't time for them to talk. Phil relaxed into his seat at the bar to enjoy his drink.
It had been a long time since his last outing from the castle and even longer since he had managed it without an entourage of guards tripping him up. People came and went from the entrance, some only staying long enough for a bowl of soup, others lingering over their drinks, others coming in to request rooms to rent. It wasn't the busy season, being in the dead of winter, but the Pit had a reputation and rooms were rarely available. A number of potential customers had to leave in huffs without gaining a room.
Another such hopeful arrived. She was just barely dressed for the weather, in the way Phil was familiar foreigners tended to dress when they underestimated the cold of the arctic; a thick sturdy coat, woolen pants, and a heavy scarf and hat, but no layers, and her shoes were inadequate for the snow. A massive pack on her back which jangled and clanked weighs her down as she settles on the stool next to Phil.
She squints at the bottles on the shelf. Phil almost gives her no more notice until she pulls out a money pouch and fishes out a few coins. Then he gets very interested.
"That's endscrip, isn't it?" he remarks conversationally. She looks up, confused for a moment, then brightens.
"Ah, yes," she says with a heavy isle accent. "Know you, do endscrip here allowed?" Her Arctic is clearly spoken for all the grammar is inconsistent. Phil decides she must have had some study learning it but not much practice actually speaking it. Or maybe the other way around. Either way, he nods courteously.
"The inns on this side of the city mostly accept any coin. So near the docks, they'd make no money at all if they didn't." He nods at the endscrip. "You come in on a ship? I didn't think we had any trade with the Isles."
She startles a little. "Oh, yes. But from the Isles I am not. Left I years ago. From Netheria came the ship."
Phil snorts and tips his glass to her. "Netharia to the Arctic, huh? How are you enjoying the weather?"
Her face is very expressive. "Enjoying not." She gives an exaggerated shiver. "Heard have I that hell is hot, but think I that this worse is."
He chuckles. "Pretty nippy around these parts. You'll definitely want to wear more layers of cloth, it'll help keep the chill out." His pint is empty. He pushes it out and waves a hand at Sneeg for a refill, then holds out a hand to the woman next to him. "I'm Phil."
"Loch." Loch returns the gesture, and Phil notes the lack of gloves on her hands, instead tightly wrapped in what looks like strips of cloth torn from something else. "From here you are?"
"Yeah." Sneeg arrives to refill his drink, and Phil catches his sleeve before he whisks away. "Can I get a pint for Ms. Loch here?" Sneeg easily pours another before disappearing into the crowd to deal with someone's too-loud and off-key drunken singing. Phil slides the drink over to Loch.
"Oh! Give to you my thanks," Loch cheers, raising the glass before taking a large gulp. She immediately starts coughing.
"Shit!" Phil pats her frantically on the shoulder, the closest he can get to her back with her pack in the way. She starts laughing while choking, the kind of rapid-fire coughs of getting a drink down the wrong pipe, and shuffles the pack off.
"Sorry!" she gasps. "Sorry! Expecting not that strength, I was. Drinks softer in Netharia."
"Ah shit, I'm sorry," Phil says genuinely, but also beginning to laugh at the way she struggles to keep herself composed while interrupted by hiccuping coughs. "I knew that, I should'a figured you might not be ready for that." She pulls a waterskin from her bag and takes careful sips until the hiccups pass. When they do, she takes a much smaller and more cautious sip from her pint.
01-19-24
Wordcount: 818
QSMP AU Idea & Outline
- The setting is an assistance center with programs for new parents
- it's scholarship-based and charitably funded by the Federation
- the Federation is basically like the FBI in America; it's not the ruling/legislative government but it's basically able to control things
- It's set on the outskirts/suburbs of a big city, so the kids come variably from inner-city apartments to suburben houses
- Basically the program picks the kids up from after school on a bus, drives them to the facility, and drops them there for a few hours for basically free babysitting
- All the QSMP couples are sent offers (like mail stuffers) for assistance and all are in a desperate situation where they really have no choice but to accept the help
- The scholarship comes with a request to perform simple, behavioral-based tests & studies on the kids in a sort of after-school program (aka the "quests")
- they're super not-threatening, it's framed as like "we want to teach our employees how to write up behavioral reports for psychological studies" so it's like "your kids play games we pick out or eat snacks and have short lessons while our students will practice writing up reports about their behavior" and the parents have full access to the reports and stuff
- The parents are given a tour of the building (by the Duck character) and it's a big party room for kids with fun toys and climbing things and whatnot, an attached dining room like in a chucky cheese, and there are a couple of observation rooms with one-way mirrors for the scientists to observe the kids from (the parents are allowed inside and given what seems like a full tour with no hiding anything, although they're asked not to tell the kids they're being observed)
- Strange things begin happening outside of the study facility and the parents and kids slowly start to suspect something sinister going on
- things like sightings of Cucoroucho, maybe naked slenderman, whatever demonic stuff Dapper gets up to
- Tilin's sudden "accidental" demise and Quackity's total breakdown & institutionalization are a kick-starting event that mobilizes the parents & kids to investigate
- The death totally does not occur anywhere near the facility or with any of the employees involved so it's super not suspicious
- HOWEVER Quackity seems to have gone crazy (understandably) and when the other parents visit him at the hospital he seems to be raving about things blaming the Federation
- I think the death is that Charlie was driving Tilin and Juanaflippa to school one morning and there was a car accident, and Charlie and Juanaflippa come out fine but Tilin is super dead
- Events of the QSMP translated to the setting as danger, suspiciouns, and deaths increase
- they all end up trapped in the expansive grounds and facility of the program as the program has a month in the first month of summer where the kids do overnights like a summer camp
- Juanaflippa disappears and reappears but now she's mind-controlled
- Cellbit tries to investigate and does his bit where he pretends to join the Federation (a branch NOT involved with the facility) and does his whole weirdness thing searching for Felps
- Felps has been missing since shortly before the start of the story and Cellbit has been searching for him
- He doesn't have the Federation as a certain lead until after weird things begin starting at the facility, and something makes him think Felps is there
- He gets arrested by the Federation and put in a holding cell where he and Felps are reunited and the others gather to pay his bail
- this is the thing that finally cracks the parents into deciding to pull their kids from the program as a whole; other suspicious stuff has been kinda passed over because they all need the help so much from the babysitting
- Purgatory is when the kids get separated from the parents (ala Cabin in the Woods kind-of setting, the parents trapped in the forest and the kids trapped inside the facility)
- I think the story will end with the parents failing to get the kids out of the facility before the kids blow it up to destroy the Federation, but then the kids are rescued right before the explosion by Cucuorucho leading them to a bunker that keeps them mostly safe (some injuries so they have to go to the hospital where the parents are reunited with them at the end)
01-17-24
Wordcount: 759
"It's a disappointment." Tann shakes his head. "After all we've done for them, this is the limit of their generosity?"
Addison reaches forward and smacks the Salarian on the back of the head, hard. "Given the circumstances, it's a goddamn miracle," she retorts.
Across the table, Fabio Ryder frowns while skimming the tablet with their list of ambassadors. "Where are the human ambassadors?" he asks. Tann and Addison share a look.
"We needed your input before selection. We have a shortlist of candidates, but the actual ambassadors died during the uprising and our best option is freshly out of the hospital."
Fabio looks up. "Who?"
"Layla Ryder has the necessary background," Addison begins.
"But some of us," Tann interrupts, "have concerns regarding her . . . shall we say, stability for the role."
Fabio frowns thoughtfully and runs a thumb along his chin, tracing a scar still shining pink from the medigel. It's almost the only clean part of his face. "Aya's probably the safest place in the galaxy right now. And ambassador work shouldn't be any physical labour, or at least none that we can't put on the shoulders of whoever else we send for the humans. She's healing well given everything that's happened."
"Not exactly the stability we're worried about," Tann mutters, not quite quietly enough to avoid the tablet that Fabio chucks at him.
Addison sighs, and Fabio hits her with a glower as well. "Have you even asked her if she wanted the role? Hell, have you even talked to her since she's woken up?" She raises her hands defensively.
"I have no problem with including her as a candidate. I'm the one that put her name forward." She leans forward and tugs the tablet away from Tann. "Kesh agrees, and Tiran's only concerned about the lack of security we can send with them."
"Which is maybe the one thing we can agree on," Tann huffs.
"I've spoken with her, and Dr. Carlyle. She's willing, and Harry said there's nothing else to do for her condition but rest and physical therapy." She types something on the tablet and passes it back to Fabio. "I think we either send a medical professional as her second, or preferably petition the Angara to allow an additional presence with a medic that has experience with all the species we're sending. Which I have just received an affirmative from the Moshae for, as you can see there."
Fabio studies the message and nods. "Then I guess you guys have everything in order and don't even need me here." He pushes back from the table and stretches with an exagerrated yawn.
"We don't need your permission, no. But Ryder, we need your honesty." Addison squares up and folds her arms. "Tell me Layla can do this, or we'll find someone else. You're probably the best outside source besides Harry to assess her situation. Given the circumstances of her injuries, I don't want to compromise this chance we have for diplomacy."
Fabio juts his chin out. "Layla is in complete possession of her faculties. I just ran a successful rescue op based on her intel with zero injuries, let alone casualties. If she says she wants the job, I agree that she's ready for it."
"And you're completely unbiased about it," Tann scoffs.
"Is anyone? And do we really have other options?" Fabio retorts. He nods to Addison. "I have no reasons she can't do it. You guys like her resume. Put her on the job. I'm going to bed." He whirls around and stalks out of Tann's office, almost ramming into Jaal waiting in the hall outside.
Broad hands catch him before he trips into broad shoulders, steadying him with a concerned hum. Jaal, as tired-looking as Fabio but less covered in Eos dust, effortlessly pulls Fabio into an embrace. "That bad, hm?" he chuckles.
Fabio groans and presses his forehead into Jaal's rofjinn, breathing deep the soothing floral scent. "Just buerocratic bullshit that they don't need me for," he whines. "Again."
Jaal wraps and arm around him and guides him through the hallways. Fabio doesn't really know or care where they're going until they arrive in the hall leading to his father's old apartment, now officially his. Unofficially they belong to Layla, who still refuses to claim ownership in fear of getting complacent and ending up trapped on the Nexus. Fabio smiles at the thought. At least that was one problem fixed.
1-16-24
Wordcount: 4507
The Archon is dead.
It's been almost four weeks since the discovery of the Meridian and the freedom of Andromeda from his reign of terror and Evfra finds himself just as busy as he was when the fighting was thickest. While a large portion of the Kett force had retreated, enough had consolidated themselves into stronger bases and gone into lockdown. He won't be satisfied with letting them stay, but the change in tactics means a change in his plans for attack. The Resistance HQ was as crowded as ever, but the joy and hope in the air was refreshing.
One such breath of fresh air was the presence of the Moshae, who had moved into the HQ near full-time to assist with the communications between Angaran cities and daara. She is the closest their people had to a uniting leader over all Angaran, and Evfra's Resistance had the most contact across the planets for her to speak with them to assure them of their new hope and coordinate their future. He had given her his own office to work in, since she wasn't generating paperwork to compete with the tablets scattered around his space and he spent more time in the war room advising his generals anyway.
Evfra loves the Moshae, as much or even more than most. She had taken him in when he had rejected adoption, allowing him to carry on his family's name alone even as a traumatized and bloodthirsty newly-orphaned teenager. She never claimed him as her son, but the bond between them was as true as if it were. Which made it all the more frustrating when they disagree on matters.
"I will not allow alien dignitaries to play at court on Aya, of all places." He barely looks up when the Moshae entered, already assured of the reasons for her visit. "And neither should you."
The Moshae has the nerve to look amused, as if this was a squabble over what flavor rations they should eat for dinner. "I see your position is firmly set in place. But I have come with a counter-offer for you, as well as a bribe." She places a steaming cup of tavum at the edge of his desk, nudging a few tablets aside to make safe room for it.
Evfra rescues the tablets before any can fall to the floor. "It's far too early for tavum," he grouches, but pulls it towards himself all the same. The Moshae smiles sadly.
"I need to interrupt your work more often, I fear. The day is long since over."
"And yet the work continues." Evfra sips his tavum and allows that it is very warm and welcomed, though he refuses to allow Moshae her victory of seeing him relax. He is still in his place of work, after all. "I assume this is the bribe, so give me your counter-offer so you can go to rest."
"Of course, Commander, I would hardly dare to part myself from my rest." Her derisive snort warms his heart near as much as the tavum; it had been a long few months after her rescue before she could bring herself to smile, let alone tease and laugh like her old self. He could take any amount of ridicule from her as she wanted if it meant she was well enough to make light of him.
She walks around the desk to stand at the window at his back, forcing him to swivel in his chair to watch her. "Unlike you and some others I do not wish to name, I have determined that the vesoan from Jarevaon Imasaf are here to stay. As such, we must have a speaker between our peoples to ensure that neither of us become to the other as the Kett were to us."
Evfra's temper flares. "We would never--"
"We could." She cuts him off with the same stern glare that curbed the attitudes of a thousand Angaran students. "The Roekaar alone are evidence that Angaran souls are not set in righteous stone. I am the Moshae," her voice trembles, "and I will not--I cannot--allow us to forget who we are and repeat the evils that have been done to us."
Evfra lowers his gaze.
"We have hope. I think a miracle of the Resistance that can be laid at your feet is that you never allowed us in war to fall into our most basic and cruel sensibilities. It was your humility that allowed us to accept the overtures of the vesoan which lead to my rescue, let alone the death of the Archon."
"Desperation, more like," Evfra says bitterly. The Moshae catches his chin with her hand and lifts his face to hers with a tsk.
"Desperation could have made you more prideful, like our poor Akksul. But you, Evfra, I have called you clear-sighted before. You see far. It's what makes you neglect the things too close to you." She releases his chin and taps his tavum pointedly. He gives her a slow blink but takes another sip.
"You're getting off-topic. What is this counter-offer?"
"You agree that we must maintain a positive relationship with the Initiative, yes?"
His turn to snort. "Unless we wish to face the same fate as the Archon, yes."
"And yet you refuse to allow them entry to Aya." She raises a hand to cut off his protest. "A small, select few dignitaries to assist me in my office and in the creation of a unified, peaceful galaxy between our peoples. No invading force, no soldiers."
"They would be fools not to bring guards with them."
"And what use are guards to them?" she retorts. "On Aya, the safest place in the galaxy, surrounded by our people who both they and us know offer no harm."
Evfra drains his tavum and stands, joining her at the window. "You have a skewed view of them, Moshae," he murmurs. "You speak mostly to the Pathfinder, who is an exception with honor amoung their leadership. She came as a vesoan; the others came here to colonize. I do not trust their dignitaries because I have seen no dignity in them. I would welcome them to Aya as easily as I would welcome a knife in my heart." Then, a little pettily, "I've explained this before."
The Moshae lays a hand on his arm. "Evfra, clear-sighted, you see too clearly," she sighs. "I have been meditating on your thoughts shared with me, and I trust your opinion of the Initiative. But I also know we have to try. Hence my counter-offer: I will go to stay with their ambassadors in a neutral third location--"
"Absolutely not." He glares at her and yanks his arm away, and she returns the glare with crossed arms.
"You cannot have it both ways, Evfra. Either the ambassadors come here to Aya, unarmed and surrounded by the finest warriors of our people, under your watchful eye, or I go to them beyond your reach. I have a duty to more than just you, for all that I wish I had none other." Her voice softens but her stance and eyes are unyielding. "I would like to have the option of staying near you, but if you deem the risk too high then I will bow to your wisdom as commander. And I will leave."
It's difficult to maintain eye contact with her and he tilts his head in apology, eyes lowered. Slowly he pulls himself back to his usual level of control. There's a long few moments of silence that the Moshae easily lets settle around them as he gathers his thoughts, familiar as she is with his habits. Finally he gives a short sharp nod of aknowledgement.
"Human, krogan, asari, salarian, turian. One of each with a single attendant, who may be an additional ambassador or a guard. No more than that. And I will have full authority in removing them from Aya at any time."
"You and Paaran."
He scowls. "Me, Paaran, and you. I think I will need the emotional support of dealing with her."
Moshae offers him a true smile, warm and proud and a blessing all at once, and Evfra would need a harder heart than he already has to resist returning it in part. "On behalf of the future of jave jarevaon, or as the Initiative calls it, Andromeda. Thank you, Evfra." He shakes his head.
"Thank me by getting to bed. You're still recovering."
"Only if you rest as well."
At that, he shakes his head. "No, not yet." He returns to the table and his reports as the Moshae hovers by the doorframe. "I have a little work still to complete tonight."
In her bed on a space station several star systems away, Layla Ryder shoots up from another nightmare with a gasp.
01-15-24
Wordcount: N/A
Stanza 1: A1, b, A2
Stanza 2: a, b, A1
Stanza 3: a, b, A2
Stanza 4: a, b, A1
Stanza 5: a, b, A2
Stanza 6: a, b, A1, A2.
Sister,
A1. I pray this letter finds you well.
b. Though maybe you will be afraid when hearing why
A2. I am writing from the depths of hell.
a. Let me first explain and quell
b. Your instinct need to call this a lie,
A1. I pray this letter finds you well.
a. We never had a chance to dwell
b. in anything but hated nearness. Let this news mollify:
A2. I am writing from the depths of hell.
a.
b.
A1. I pray this letter finds you well.
a.
b.
A2. I am writing from the depths of hell.
a.
b.
A1. I pray this letter finds you well.
A2. I am writing from the depths of hell.